In Or Out Of The Circle?

The Church Before the Watching World, by Francis A. Schaeffer (1971, Inter-Varsity, 105 pp., paperback, $1.25), is reviewed by Donald Tinder, assistant editor, CHRISTIANITY TODAY.

Of the many issues currently dividing evangelicals, none has been more acrimonious than the question of what to do when one’s denomination becomes influenced by those who advocate doctrinal error. A Christian may freely move from one denomination to another when he changes his own doctrinal views. But what does he do when his denomination changes its mind?

The four basic answers have been to leave regretfully, to leave bumptiously, to stay in quietly, and to stay in to contend for orthodoxy. Francis Schaeffer used to take the second position. (In the thirties he left the Northern Presbyterians with Machen and soon sided with McIntire in the disputes among the seceders.) But for some years now he has advocated the first (having sided with those opponents of McIntire who broke from him in the mid-fifties). Schaeffer well knows two of the attitudes that he now decries: failure to love apostates as persons, and failure to love fellow believers who do not agree with the timing or manner of seceding.

This latest book consists of four essentially sermonic essays. The first concludes that “historic Christianity and either the old or the new liberal theology are two separate religions with nothing in common except certain terms which they use with totally different meanings.” Data to support this conclusion can be found in Schaeffer’s other books.

The second essay effectively marshalls the biblical evidence demanding the harsh but true conclusion that the theology of our day that “is only humanism spoken in classical Protestant terms” is spiritual adultery, “worse, much worse, than physical adultery.” This essay has already appeared as an appendix of The Church at the End of the Twentieth Century.

In the same book the other appendix was “The Mark of the Christian,” which was also issued as a separate book. It is necessary reading because in it Schaeffer contends for observable love among true Christians who disagree among themselves. Indeed, many do disagree with Schaeffer’s contention in his third essay that Christians should not be in denominations where false teaching is too prevelant to be disciplined. I definitely agree with both contentions, but, regretfully, I don’t think Schaeffer has made a strong enough case to convince those who don’t agree. He tells what those who leave or have left should be like, and this is needed. But the United Methodists and Presbyterians, the state churchmen of northern Europe and Britain, and others who believe in opposing apostasy from within their historic denominations are not given biblical reasons to change. Perhaps Schaeffer will address himself to this task, guided especially by the arguments he has found have actually worked in convincing individuals and congregations to secede in the proper spirit.

There is one glaring inaccuracy in the chapter. It is not true that only three of the larger Protestant denominations in America failed to come under liberal control a generation ago. Even today, of the fifteen largest white denominations (theological evaluation of the black denominations must be along different lines), six are conservative and three more have large conservative minorities.

The final essay is an appendix that presents what Schaeffer considers to be irreducible essentials of the faith. He describes them by the boundaries that should not be crossed rather than by exact formulations, over which there are legitimate differences. “There is room for discussion within each circle, but we must not forget that there is a circle to be in.” This essay provides a good starting point for discussion. Although I agree with the proposition, I would add that the circles themselves, as Schaeffer has drawn them, are also open to discussion.

On the whole, this is another stimulating piece of work, yet one that calls for further and more substantial offerings from the author to increase the likelihood of convincing many others of both “the principle of the practice of the purity of the visible church” and “the principle of the practice of an observable love and oneness among all true Christians regardless of who and where they are.”

The Fabric Of Exposition

The Thought of Rudolf Bultmann, by André Malet (Doubleday, 1971, 440 pp., $8.95), is reviewed by Robert D. Knudsen, associate professor of apologetics, Westminster Theological Seminary, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Even though nearly everybody wants to go beyond him, Rudolf Bultmann is still one of the best for the theological student to read if he wants to grasp the tendencies of contemporary theology. The reader may differ sharply with him; yet he can only be amazed at the deftness of erudition with which Bultmann weaves his reinterpretation of the gospel message together with threads of thought to which modern man has been attached to form a complete theological system.

Bultmann himself gave enthusiastic endorsement to Malet’s book. The work must certainly rate among the best expositions of Bultmann’s thought. It is precisely that, an exposition; it offers almost no criticism of Bultmann. According to Malet, Bultmann has successfully carried out his task of liberating the true gospel message, of letting it be seen in its true proportions so that it can be efficacious for modern man. The evangelical will have to take issue with this conclusion; nevertheless, he will profit immensely if he takes this genial compendium in hand as a guide to the reading of Bultmann himself, and also as a stimulant to comparing Bultmann’s position with those of other contemporaries.

An important qualification Malet has as an expositor of Bultmann is his thorough acquaintance with the background (“ontological”) of Bultmann’s thought. A definite lack in this area vitiates most discussions of Bultmann, including those of the bulk of conservative theologians; the result is usually an exposition that skims the surface and a criticism that largely misses the point. If one is to believe Malet himself, this failure is one that even the most renowned theologians have not escaped. Note his excoriation of Karl Barth, whom he flays for his “clumsiness” of exposition. If the orthodox theological student is to take seriously the advice of such staunch predecessors as the divines of Old Princeton, he ought to acknowledge that understanding an opponent’s position and being able to expound it clearly should be prerequisites to the assumption that one has some right to criticize it.

Even in a much longer review, it would be impossible to recapitulate what Malet says about the background of Bultmann’s thought. What the reviewer can do, however, is to report that what Malet says is very exact. The serious student can use Malet’s book to check out his own interpretations as he begins to penetrate into Bultmann’s world of thought.

An important aspect of Malet’s exposition bears some comment here. His presentation, as every good one must, involves an incisive and well thought-out interpretation. He views Bultmann’s work as an attempt to discover a proper conceptual schematism (Begrifflichkeit) for getting at the true gospel message. This takes place in the context of a hermeneutic of the “objectified” and “mythological” writing of the New Testament, in which form this message comes to us from the confession of the early Church. It is especially Martin Heidegger, Bultmann feels, who has provided us with the conceptuality in which this message can be understood and made relevant, because he offers us a penetrating, uncommitted description of what man is, as one who is open to what is beyond him (to “being”). Grant that Christians, including Christian theologians, have as a matter of fact related themselves to Jesus Christ; it is of the utmost importance that they have available an adequate conceptuality in which to understand this encounter. Malet interprets Bultmann, as Bultmann himself wants to be interpreted, as being first of all a theologian, in the sense that he lays bare the gospel message in which the encounter with Jesus Christ is enshrined and in the medium of which it occurs even today. He will not admit that he has imposed a philosophy, even the philosophy of Heidegger, on this original, eschatological message. The conceptuality (Begrifflichkeit) is regarded to be simply a means of understanding and opening up the gospel message, which is intact and operative even apart from it.

Malet presents a sophisticated interpretation of what Bultmann intends and how he understands the relation of the Gospel to theology and to ontological analysis. However, it is my conviction that if one allows himself to be swept along with this interpretation, he does so at his own peril and at the risk of undermining the Gospel. This supposedly neutral conceptuality must be unmasked as not being neutral at all; it takes a stance toward the Gospel, and that a negative one. Far from explicating the Gospel, this stance in effect denies it. The conceptuality that Bultmann uses, in the line of Heidegger, must be subjected to a critique that lays bare its ultimate religious presuppositions. Such a critique would show, I believe, that this conceptuality capitulates to the spirit of the age and distorts the Gospel.

Let me cite one example. Bultmann’s position entails that there must be an opposition of the event of encounter in Jesus Christ to a supposed intellectualizing of the gospel message into doctrines that are to be believed, and the elevating of certain events in space-time into events whose occurrence one must accept if he is truly to believe the Gospel. This opposition plays such a role in the thinking of Bultmann and others that they reach even into the writings of the apostles themselves to criticize them for sometimes falling prey to the temptation of “objectifying” the gospel message. Far be it from us to say that the Gospel and our relation with Christ is an intellectual affair. It is a matter of living commitment, of response to what God has done in Christ. But at the same time this relation involves what God has done and accepting his own interpretation of what he has done. This requires an intellectual grasp, be it ever so simple.

The believer will not reject Paul’s admonition to Timothy, “Take heed unto thyself and unto the doctrine …” (1 Tim. 4:16). And if accepting this means the believer must worship God in a fashion that in the eyes of Bultmann and his enthusiastic expositors is contraband, then let him confess to it, as Paul did to Felix during one of his defenses of himself long ago, and confess also that he believes “all things which are written in the law and in the prophets” (Acts 24:14).

For Stimulating Reflection

Philosophy and Religious Belief, by George F. Thomas (Scribner, 1970, 363 pp., $10), is reviewed by Myron Miller, assistant professor of philosophy, Nyack Missionary College, Nyack, New York.

This survey of the problems in religious knowledge is readable, interesting, and stimulating, despite its length.

Its unifying viewpoint is a very philosophically contentious one: religious claims refer to objects that transcend human sensory knowledge, but they are knowledge claims nonetheless. Although these claims are partially substantiated in sense experience, evidence must be allowed from other sources as well. Moreover, the character of God does not prevent at least limited factual knowledge of him nor is the nature of man so limited that he cannot obtain factual knowledge.

The first section, “Grounds of Belief: Experience and Reason,” begins rather disappointingly by saying that neither phenomenological description nor linguistic analysis will achieve true statements about religious beliefs. The alternative for Thomas is the method of metaphysical thinking. It is not clear how this is a genuine third alternative, however, for both phenomenological description and linguistic analysis involve metaphysical thinking.

In general Thomas is clearer on phenomenology than on analytic philosophy. His criticisms deal with logical positivism or naturalism, as in A. J. Ayer and Gilbert Ryle, but he overlooks completely some very important work—of Alvin Plantinga, God and Other Minds; J. M. Bochenski, The Logic of Religion; and R. M. Martin, Logic, Language, and Metaphysics. Bochenski, especially, uses the tools of analysis to aid in a rational reconstruction of religious beliefs in much the same way that Rudolph Carnap argued for a “rational reconstruction of the world” for scientific explanation. Thomas is still somewhat frightened by an old boogyman, the notion that analytic methods are limited to purely scientific methods.

The next section, “God and the World,” presents a lucid discussion of pantheism with a good summary of the problem of evil for the theist. Yet Thomas again neglects to explain the methods of linguistic analysis. In refuting J. L. Mackie’s claim that the existence of evil precludes believing in a good God who is omnipotent, Thomas simply subsumes Mackie under the heading “determinist” and dismisses the argument. He sometimes gives the impression that identification of someone as “empiricist,” “analysist,” or “determinist” equals refutation of that thinker’s arguments.

Numerous turns of Thomas’s discussion would have been greatly strengthened by more awareness of the force of linguistic arguments. In the last section, “Man, Freedom, and Grace,” we turn to the nature of man. The discussion generally is clear, and the arguments in such problem areas as the relation of “soul” to “body” are neatly outlined.

There is an interesting obscurity, however, in Thomas’s treatment of Ryle’s behaviorism. After criticizing Ryle for failing to do justice to the distinctive nature of intellect and self-consciousness, Thomas offers as an alternative “the dynamic view of mind”—that mind is the subjective knowing, willing, and feeling activity of a unified person. But it is just Ryle’s point to analyze the terms knowing, willing, feeling, in order to determine their reference. Nowhere does Thomas explain how his alternative avoids a possible behavioristic interpretation after a Rylean fashion. We can and should avoid Ryle’s behaviorism, but not by baptizing the nest of problems with another name. A better analysis of Ryle’s difficulties can be found in Charles Taylor’s The Explanation of Behavior.

The book ends with a discussion of the relation of faith to reason; again Thomas gives a neat outline of the views of several philosophers and theologians.

The author’s systematic way of handling the material in each of the chapters makes this an excellent supplementary text for courses in the philosophy of religion as well as a stimulating guide for the reflective person interested in such problems. An added feature is that Thomas includes some discussion of the philosophical import of Eastern, specifically Hindu, beliefs. The book is highly recommended to the reader who is always ready to ask the author, “Why so?”

In The Journals

For those who want to find out what evangelicals are writing, a marvelous aid is the Christian Periodical Index (910 Union Road, Buffalo, N. Y. 14224; $15 a year), which is now appearing quarterly, cumulated annually and every five years. Currently thirty-two journals are indexed.

The Post-American (Box 132, Deerfield, Ill. 60015; $2 a year) is a quarterly tabloid for the expression of radical commitment both to Christ as personal Saviour and to the biblical call for social justice. It decries the captivity of the churches to an unbiblical Americanism.

Another attempt to launch a periodical for the charismatic movement of our times has produced the Logos Journal (185 North Ave., Plainfield, N. J.; $3 a year, bi-monthly). The September–October issue includes the articles “Why Tongues” and “Why Did God Baptize You in the Spirit.”

A twelve-page monthly tabloid of book reviews has just begun, The Review of Books and Religion (Box 2, Belmont, Vt. 05730; $3.50 a year). Reviewers are generally from the denominations in the ecumenical movement.

With all the talk about the philosophy of Whitehead and Hartshorne, a journal devoted to it is certainly in order. The first issue has appeared recently of the quarterly Process Studies (1325 N. College Ave., Claremont, Calif. 91711; $6 a year).

Newly Published

First and Second Corinthians, by F. F. Bruce (Oliphants, 262 pp., £ 3.5). Another commentary by Bruce is always welcome. Perhaps this volume in the “New Century” series will find an American publisher.

Atlas of the Biblical World, by Denis Baly and A. D. Tushingham (World, 208 pp., $12.95). Much, much more than a set of maps. Dozens of well-chosen illustrations and a well-written and -indexed text enhance the value of this work.

Commentary on the Gospel of John; by Leon Morris (Eerdmans, 936 pp., $12.50). Will probably be recognized as the best recent commentary by an evangelical. A volume of the “New International Commentary.”

Faith on Trial in Russia, by Michael Bourdeaux (Harper & Row, 192 pp., $5.95). One of the best writers on Soviet religion gives a good account of the evangelicals generally called “Baptists” in that land. Treats fairly the division among them over degree of cooperation with the state.

Governing Without Consensus, by Richard Rose (Beacon, 567 pp., $12.50). An American teaching in Scotland writes on Northern Ireland. Much of the study is based on intensive interviews.

Religious Institutions, by Joan Brothers (Humanities Press, 104 pp., paperback, $2.50). One of a series of books on the social structure of modern Britain. Includes chapters on social class, role of the minister, and kinds of participation.

Grace, Guts, and Goods, by C. S. Calian (Nelson, 161 pp., $4.95). A challenge to affluent Christians to get involved personally with the concerns of the world’s “have-nots.” It takes “guts” to risk frustration without reward to further justice and progress. The author says Christ is the only reliable guide for this task.

A Parsing Guide to the Greek New Testament, compiled by Nathan E. Han (Herald, $12.95). Verse by verse, in biblical order, each verb is fully parsed. Much more accurate and much easier to use than Bagster’s Analytical. Struggling students will rise up and call Han blessed!

Healing and Wholeness, edited by D. Wayne Montgomery (John Knox, 240 pp., $7.50). A collection of thirty-two articles originally published in the Journal of the American Medical Association. Examples: “Physicians, Clergymen, and the Hospitalized Patient,” “Sex and Mental Health on Campus,” “Ethical Guidelines for Organ Transplantation,” “Religion and Psychiatry.”

Palestinian Parties and Politics that Shaped the Old Testament, by Morton Smith (Columbia, 348 pp., $9). A much revised Th.D. thesis seeking to determine by whom and why the documents we know as the Old Testament were assembled.

The Church of Our Fathers, by Roland H. Bainton (Scribner, 222 pp., paperback, $2.65). Reprinting of a work first published in 1941 by a renowned church historian. A survey of the Christian past ably written for younger readers.

What Theologians Do, edited by F. G. Healey (Eerdmans, 354 pp., paperback, $3.95). An introduction to the various branches of theological study. Thirteen British professors contribute a chapter each on such topics as Old Testament, philosophical theology, worship, and applied theology.

Samuel Davies: Apostle of Dissent in Colonial Virginia, by George William Pilcher (Tennessee, 229 pp., $9.75). He lived only thirty-seven years, but during the mid-eighteenth century Samuel Davies was one of the foremost evangelical leaders. This well-done, scholarly biography is long overdue.

Annointed to Serve: The Story of the Assemblies of God, by William W. Menzies (Gospel Publishing House, 436 pp., $7.95). A thorough account from the beginning before World War I to the present of the largest American Pentecostal denomination (some 8,700 congregations) by a qualified scholar and participant in the movement.

Broadman Bible Commentary: Volume 4, Esther-Psalms, Volume 11, II Corinthians-Philemon, edited by Clifton J. Allen (Broadman, 464 and 388 pp., $7.50 each). Latest additions to a major commentary series.

Ministries of Dialogue, by Henry Clark (Association, 224 pp., $6.95). Describes the efforts of various church organizations in cities across the country to make an impact on social problems of our day. Interesting and informative.

I Understand: A Handbook for Counseling in the Seventies, by Edmund J. Elbert (Sheed and Ward, 289 pp., $6.95). Attempts to help the counselor honestly say, “I understand.” The author includes specifics of certain problems as well as theory.

Jesus, by Eduard Schweizer (John Knox, 200 pp., $7.50). Though written for the educated general reader rather than the specialist, this book is probably best read only by those who are well grounded in the work of more evangelical scholars.

Der Markus-Stoff bei Lukas, by Tim Schramm (Cambridge, 207 pp., $13.50). An important new contribution to the monograph series of the Society for New Testament Studies. The author challenges the view of many recent scholars that Mark’s Gospel was Luke’s exclusive source for that part of the life and teaching of Jesus which is paralleled by Mark. The overall effect is to encourage a much more positive attitude to the trustworthy character of the Lucan writings than is current in some academic circles.

POSTER TALK

The other day a neighbor boy, Jim Beard, arrived home from college. I came up the walk as he was unpacking his car.

“Hi, Jim,” I called.

“Be free!” he returned, making a “V” with two fingers and smiling broadly.

“I’m sure everyone wants to be free,” I said laughingly as I drew nearer.

His response was delayed as he lifted out his eight-hundred-dollar stereo set and carefully set it down on the driveway. Then he said, “Freedom is nothing else but a chance to do better.”

I was somewhat puzzled at that. “Are you suggesting that we are all in need of moral improvement?”

“Judge not that you be not judged,” he shot back as he leaned his golf cart against the side of the car.

I was having a little trouble following the train of thought so I took a nondirective tack. “You think we should live and let live.”

“To live is the rarest thing in the world,” he responded, beginning to unload his fifteen blue denim jackets. “Most people exist, that is all.”

“Well, perhaps you’re being a little too judgmental …”

“Most men lead lives of quiet desperation,” he broke in seriously.

“What do you suggest as an antidote?” I asked. I was beginning to get the hang of being a straight man.

Lifting a three-foot stack of rock albums out of the trunk, he replied, “Through love one creates his own personality and helps others create theirs.”

“Well, I suppose everyone wants to feel loved and valued.”

“Everyone wants to be somebody: nobody wants to grow,” he replied, sitting down on one of three pieces of matched luggage and lighting a pipe.

Now I was in the full swing of my part.

“How would you characterize growth?” I asked.

“To grow is to change, and to have changed often is to have grown much.”

“Not bad,” I replied. “Is that your own?”

“Newman,” he said.

“Oh. And the others?”

“Camus, Jesus, Oscar Wilde, Thoreau, Anonymous, and Goethe.”

“I can see you’ve really been searching for the meaning of life in your two years in college. What answer did you find?”

“All around us for as far as the eye can see the universe holds together.”

“Eliot?” I guessed.

“Teilhard,” he replied with a frown.

“Are you still majoring in philosophy?”

“I quit!” he said somewhat gruffly.

“Muhammad Ali?” I asked.

“Jim Beard.”

“I see. You mean you’ve dropped out.”

“In a world of fugitives he who takes the opposite direction will appear to run away.”

“Chesterton?”

“Eliot.”

“Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

“Yes,” he answered. “You see, not to decide is to decide.”

“Harvey Cox,” I said knowingly. “What are your immediate plans?”

“I’m going to celebrate,” he replied with an expansive gesture.

“What are you celebrating?”

“I celebrate myself.…”

George Orwell taught us to beware of men who think in slogans and talk in bullets. He didn’t really need to add the last phrase.

TONGUES OR TRANSLATIONS?

Kudos on the four reviews of recent Bible translations (Books in Review, “Old Wine in New Bottles,” Oct. 8). O that we might have a reprieve for a decade—at least!—from this inundation of English translations! More money and effort would better be expended on the “Two Thousand Tongues to Go.”

I for one greatly appreciate the stupendous labors of Jay Green in making available to the general public the wealth of past and present orthodox volumes at unheard-of prices. May he be successful in opening a hundred of his book supermarkets. However, his KJ2 reveals, in my opinion, that his talents lie outside the field of Bible translation. What “bizarre-ities” the reviewer uncovered are no doubt in multiples of ten or greater and will combine to detract from orthodoxy on the open market. Let us pray that KJ2 will rest quietly in the library and museum.

Asst. Prof. of Philosophy

Tennessee State University

Nashville, Tenn.

GLOSSOLALIA—YESTERDAY AND TODAY

In “A Truce Proposal for the Tongues Controversy” (Oct. 8) Clark Pinnock and Grant Osborne mention my name after the following statement: “In addition, it is held that glossolalia, where it does appear in church history, arises in heterodox circles like the Montanists; therefore, it is concluded that the gift ceased after the canon was concluded …” (p. 7). What I actually did say (What About Tongue-Speaking, pp. 112, 113) is that the almost total absence of glossolalia from A.D. 100 to 1900 in the Church must give us pause, though I clearly conceded that the argument from history is not absolutely compelling (p. 113). The next sentence of the article states that some use First Corinthians 13:8 (“tongues shall cease”) to prove that glossolalia ceased in the early Christian centuries; I agree that this passage cannot be appealed to for this purpose (p. 106, n. 8).

While granting that I cannot be dogmatic on this point, I do have serious questions about whether the tongue-speaking which occurs in Pentecostal and neo-Pentecostal circles today is the same thing as the gift of tongues described in the New Testament. My reasons for questioning this are as follows: (1) When claims are made for tongue-speaking which are not taught in Scripture (cf. pp. 8, 9 of the above-mentioned article), I must seriously question whether the activity called tongue-speaking today is the Spirit-inspired gift to which Paul refers. (2) The Scriptures do clearly teach that the so-called miraculous gifts of the Spirit, like tongues and healing, served to authenticate the Gospel and the apostles who brought that gospel (see Acts 14:3; 2 Cor. 12:12; Rom. 15:15–19, and Heb. 2:3–4). (3) There is no injunction in the New Testament for the continued exercise of the miraculous or spectacular gifts of the Spirit, whereas the Church is frequently enjoined to continue to exercise the non-miraculous gifts of the Spirit-like teaching, exhorting, ruling, giving, and showing mercy (compare Romans 15:19 with Romans 12:6–8; and note that in the Pastoral Epistles, where the qualifications of officebearers are given, no mention whatever is made of the miraculous gifts of the Spirit—see First Timothy 3:1–13 and Titus 1:5–9).

Calvin Theological Seminary

Grand Rapids, Mich.

Mr. Pinnock and Mr. Osborne appear to me to be suggesting not a “truce” but rather a complete surrender on the part of the non-glossolalist and a complete victory for the “tongue-talkers.” One is reminded of the words of Tryon Edwards, “Compromise is but the sacrifice of one right or good in the hope of retaining another, too often ending in the loss of both.” The article seems to say that we may become reasonable men by giving up our convictions.

Andrews Avenue Church of Christ

Fort Lauderdale, Fla.

OFF PITCH

[I was disappointed] that … you would … print a news article in which you demean television preacher Rex Humbard (“Edifice Rex: Grubstaking the Gospel,” Oct. 8). It seemed to me to be less than the normative Christian ethic for your writers and editors to obviously find fault with the business practices of this gentleman. You did not cite him for misappropriation of funds or charge him with swindling people who trust him. Yet the whole tone of the article was critical.

Whereas the main thrust of the article was to speak about Reverend Humbard’s expanding business involvement, the demeaning attitude in the article descended to belittling statements regarding his personal image and mannerisms. By no stretch of the imagination can your writer’s statement [about his Hawaiian TV special] be construed [as] complimentary.…

We take it for granted that your magazine will champion Billy Graham—the man, his message, and his methods. So do I. Let us also thank God for those who preach the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ in a manner that is used of God to reach millions of people every week on television. You have acknowledged the fact that he is a fundamentalist. Thank God for that. Give proper praise or commendation to this man who, admittedly, uses folksy methods to reach millions of folks whom God loves with the message of redemption through Jesus Christ our Lord.

The First United Brethren Church

Peoria, Ill.

WITHOUT WELFARE

Thank you for “Careers With Christian Impact” (Sept. 24). I especially appreciated the emphasis regarding “sacred-secular” distinctions and the anticipated context of a career. I think a subsequent article could well be put forth in which the “two broad career categories” are spelled out more fully in terms of preparation, qualifications for tasks, and particularly strategic value in the effort of winning the world and/or influencing our culture in this day of change.… You say, “Paul left his tents … to become a missionary.” I would like to suggest that Paul may well have used his skills to support himself while preaching, in order to relieve the Church of undue financial burden and to make his preaching more independent, in effect, more freedom from fear of reprisal (1 Cor. 9:12). While Paul did not deny others this possibility of making a “living wage” in connection with their labors for Christ, he appears to have retained some means of support independent of the local churches which he served. In the absence of Social Security or welfare, many suggest Paul relied on his special skills in hours not spent furthering the Gospel more directly.

Bethel Church

Farmer City, Ill.

AWAY FROM THE TREND

I just want to say how much I appreciated the article “The New Paganism” (Sept. 24) by Gilbert Meilaender. 1 think it is time we call these religious writings and songs exactly what they are. The trend today seems to be to praise everything that has the name Jesus connected with it. The theology seems to be a secondary thing. We need more men who can discern error among the religious jargon and call it such.

First Baptist Church

Zeeland, Mich.

The haunting refrain in Superstar, “I really want to know,” suggests a hungry paganism, surely; and Jesus has a word to all who hunger. For the Christian the opera helps remove the docetic images with which we have been smothered in a rationalist era, helps reinforce our comprehension of how Jesus was tempted in all points as we are, yet without sin. And to the one for whom Christ is real now, and not just then, the dramatic replay of his agony and scourging is very moving! So I suggest the rock opera has something for Christian as well as pagan, plus some fine satire to shaft both Pharisee and secularist. I appreciated the article.

Dean of Faculty

George Fox College

Newberg, Ore.

Perhaps the greatest positive impact of Jesus Christ Superstar has been overlooked. Many more people are acquainted with the title, which has a sort of colloquial uplift, than they are with the inadequate theology of the piece. The title will be remembered long after the “new paganism” of the work is forgotten.

Calvary Baptist Church

Dallas, Tex.

A EUTYCHUS REVIVAL?

Evidently Eutychus’s tongue was in his cheek in “Electric Weltschmerz” (Sept. 24). Too bad. He might have used it to remind us of First Corinthians 6:19 and Second Corinthians 6:14–16. The trouble with pot smoking and “copulative verbs” is not that they are annoying, but that they blaspheme the Holy Spirit and make us less than Christian. The trouble is not that unbelievers sing songs of loneliness, hate, war, death, etc., but that they offer discredited palliatives. The trouble is not that yesterday’s songs were profound and today’s are shallow, but that unbelievers will always be with us and they will always write songs—some nonsensical, others affecting great truths.… Eutychus has again slumbered. Let’s pray the Apostle Paul will again revive him.

West Redding, Conn.

The late James D. Pike, well-known Episcopal maverick, often dwelt on the incompatability of the biblical language of a “three-story universe” with modern man’s post-Copernican understanding of space and time. He liked to inform audiences that, since scientific research had rendered the biblical picture of the universe obsolete, the Christian doctrines associated with this outdated world-view must also be considered untenable, at least in their traditional form. Man’s dwelling-place is not a flat earth with four corners. God’s is not above the bright blue sky. The dead do not descend into the lower parts of the earth. The earth is not central to the cosmos. The sun doesn’t rise as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber to run his course. In short, talk about the universe as three-storied is meaningless to space-age man.

Similarly, Bishop John Robinson of Woolwich, England, enamoured of Tillich’s abstraction “Ground of being” as a name for God, broadcast the idea that “out there” or “up there” (caricature concepts regarding God, anyway) could very well in these days give place to some image from depth psychology. Divine transcendence is out! Human sensitivity is in! But the theological iconoclast shows a blithe naïveté when he offers the spatial image of “depth” to replace the spatial image of “height.”

With such unconvincing “demythologizations,” proponents of a radical theology for tomorrow offer to deliver Christianity from an irrelevant frame of reference. If we take as our mentor Paul Tillich, then we can have a world-view “rooted in the divine ground which is man’s own ground.” Or if we welcome Teilhard de Chardin as prophet for our evolution-oriented culture, we can have a theology in which God is looked upon as the goal of the universe rather than its creator. The criterion for deciding whether a particular doctrine may or may not be believed appears to be its appeal to the twentieth-century secularist. If the typical man of our technologically-oriented age approves a doctrine, then it is considered relevant and intellectually respectable. If not, then the doctrine must be discarded.

The theological revolutionary has some hidden assumptions that do not seem warranted either by Scripture or by common sense. His attitude seems to be that since we find ourselves in a world transformed by scientific knowledge, we should jump to the conclusion that God is calling his Church to exchange its God-given role in the world for a role virtually dictated by that portion of the modern world that feels self-sufficient; then, allowing the world to prepare its agenda, the Church should provide for the world a doctrinal buttress for its mancentric world-view and, in general, a quasi-scientific “religion without revelation.” We are invited to fall for the fallacy that the secular viewpoint is the final criterion of what can be thought, uttered, or believed in.

Let us consider the red herring of the “three-story universe.” The Apostle Paul did indeed speak of three realms as a means of indicating the universal scope of Christ’s cosmic redemption, for which “every knee should bow—in heaven, on earth, and in the depths” (Phil. 2:10, NEB). In attributing to Christ the total prerogative and execution of the creativity of God, Paul spoke of “everything in heaven and earth … not only things visible but also the invisible orders of thrones, sovereignties, authorities, and powers,” as “created through him and for him” (Col. 1:15–20). The creeds do indeed speak of Christ as the One who “came down from heaven,” “descended into hell” (or, the place of departed spirits), and “ascended into heaven.” We rejoice in the whole biblical witness to the centrality of Christ in the divine scheme of things and the all-embracing validity of the cosmic redemption he accomplished. And there is not one shred of evidence that the obsolescence of the Ptolemaic world-view and the ensuing changes in the world-view of Western man have invalidated any of these biblical doctrines.

The argument used by proponents of a reductionist or radical theology runs like this: Christianity was originally propagated in an age ignorant of the scientific facts that began to come to light with the Copernican revolution in cosmology; therefore modern Christians should jettison doctrines whose biblical sources employ language reminiscent of the idea of an earth-centered, three-story universe. But this argument injects unnecessary confusion. It may be quite proper to use the term pre- or post-Copernican in a chronological sense in a discussion of the history of modern science. But it is quite another matter to employ the terms polemically when the context of the discussion is theological. It is as unscholarly as it is unfair to fling pre-Copernican as a kind of dirty word at Christians who see no threat to the faith of the New Testament in the advance of modern science and the scientific world-view.

The world-view discredited by the Copernican revolution is not the biblical view so much as that element in medieval Thomist cosmology derived from Aristotle. Cosmological references in the Psalms and other parts of the Old Testament are neither Ptolemaic nor Copernican. The poetry of Psalm 104 is as appropriate for the twentieth century as for the first: “Thou hast spread out the heavens like a tent.… Thou didst fix the earth on its foundation so that it can never be shaken.” And Psalm 102:25, “The heavens shall grow old as a garment,” sounds more like the Second Law of Thermodynamics than anything Copernicus ever said.

A Christian world-view can readily subsume within its total presentation the insights of Einstein. Yet there is no reason why modern Christians should not still use “three-story universe” language and still be considered intellectually honest. It is hard to improve on the language of St. Paul if we want to communicate his insight into the universality of Christ and the cosmic efficacy of his saving work. No one would criticize the astronauts for talking, as they doubtless often do, about the “sunrise” or “sunset,” or label them “pre-Copernican” for this. They do not let their technical knowledge rob them of the spiritual insights that are a valid witness to truth.

Men who get their scientific knowledge from its literary popularizers often show less humility in the presence of the mysterious universe than professional scientists. The scientist is a devotee of truth as his researches uncover it. In the laboratory he pays little heed to the philosophical implications of his discoveries. From time to time he may have to contradict the imperfect, partial, or even false conclusions of his predecessors. And at all stages of his progress as scientist it is still possible for him to be a Christian believer and accept essential New Testament truth. The noted scientist Sir A. S. Eddington has said:

A belief not by any means confined to the more dogmatic adherents of religion is that there is a future non-material existence in store for us.… The scientist declares that time and space are a single continuum, and the modern idea of a Heaven in time but not in space is in this respect more at variance with science than the pre-Copernican idea of a Heaven above our heads [The Nature of the Physical World, Cambridge, 1933, p. 351].

Then, in his conclusion regarding the lack of finality of scientific theories, he wisely warns: “The religious reader may well be content that I have not offered him a God revealed by the quantum theory, and therefore liable to be swept away in the next scientific revolution” (p. 353).

The achievements of science have been due in part to the intellectual joie de vivre and curiosity of thinkers and experimenters emancipated from the last vestiges of pre-Christian superstition in the Western world, and in part to the desire for utilitarian rewards; but most significantly scientific progress came from intuition into the ultimate principles at work in the physical cosmos, and to that inspired devotion to the discovery of what Einstein, borrowing a phrase from the philosopher Leibniz, called “a pre-established harmony.” This devotion is wholly in harmony with the essential Christian outlook on the universe as expressed by the Apostle Paul in his paean to the Christ whose Person, prerogatives, and power are cosmic in their relevance and redemptive scope. “His is the primacy over all created things. In him everything in heaven and on earth was created.… The whole universe has been created through him and for him … and all things are held together in him.… Through him God chose to reconcile the whole universe to himself” (Col. 1:15–20). “God has made known to us his hidden purpose—such was his will and pleasure determined beforehand in Christ—to be put into effect when the time was ripe: namely, that the universe, all in heaven and on earth, might be brought into a unity in Christ” (Eph. 1:9, 10). “This is in accord with the age-long purpose which he achieved in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Eph. 3:11).

We can have a space-age Christology without the exaggerated fears of those who have made shipwreck of the faith on the grounds that three-story-universe language is now untenable. A space-age Christology will see Christ as the Creator-Sustainer, the everlasting Lord and sole Redeemer of the whole universe. The magnitude of the universe as unveiled by astronomers is indeed awe-inspiring, but it is of less significance than the amazing grace of God in the biblical story of his dealings with and purpose for his creature, man, and of the centrality of Christ in the achievement of these.

The question arises: What would be the relation of Christ to creatures in other worlds, assuming there might be such? Biblically revealed truth is unchangingly relevant. There can be only one God, and one Mediator between God and his creatures. Therefore the whole universe, in its totality and in all its parts, is subject to the sovereignty of Christ the eternal Word, through whom it has been created; he is the rightful recipient of the adoration and praise of all orders of creation. There is as yet no evidence of the existence of human beings in other worlds; it is just a conjectural possibility based on the assumption that, given the existence of countless numbers of stars, it might be considered mathematically improbable that the planet Earth should out of all this wealth of creation be the only one that could support life and have human inhabitants. It now seems clear that in our own solar system no other planet has conditions that make even the most rudimentary forms of life possible. Yet it may be permissible to assume, for theological purposes, the existence of sentient and conscious life in other worlds than our own.

C. S. Lewis in his space trilogy has written fascinating stories based on this assumption, in such a way that the underlying theology is perfectly sound and in harmony with the Scriptures. And in his essay on “Religion and Rocketry” (The World’s Last Night, Harcourt Brace, 1960, p. 84), he says, regarding the supposed threat to Christianity, particularly the doctrine of the Incarnation:

Usually, when the popular hubbub has subsided and the novelty has been chewed over by real theologians, real scientists and real philosophers, both sides find themselves pretty much where they were before. So it was with Copernican astronomy, with Darwinism, with Biblical criticism, with the new psychology. So, I cannot help expecting, it will be with the discovery of “life on other planets”—if that discovery is ever made.

He then raises a point that non-Christians always seem to forget:

If there are species, and rational species, other than men, are any or all of them like us fallen?… They that are whole need not the physician. Christ died for men precisely because they are not worth dying for: to make them worth it. Notice what waves of unwarranted hypothesis these critics of Christianity want us to swim through. We are now supposing the fall of hypothetically rational creatures whose mere existence is hypothetical!… Perhaps of all races we only fell. Perhaps man is the only lost sheep; the one therefore whom the Shepherd came to seek.

Then, after wondering how things would go if men met an unfallen race, Lewis concludes: “I have wondered before now whether the vast astronomical distances may not be God’s quarantine precautions. They prevent the spiritual infection of a fallen species from spreading” (p. 91).

In his science-fiction novel Out of the Silent Planet, the same author has imagined a conversation between a redeemed astronaut visiting the planet Mars and Oyarsa, the planet’s tutelary angel. Speaking of the “war in heaven” when the Bent One was driven back and bound in the air of his own world, Oyarsa says:

There doubtless he lies to this hour, and we know no more of that planet: it is silent. We think that Maleldil would not give it up utterly to the Bent One, and there are stories among us that he has taken strange counsel and dared terrible things, wrestling with the Bent One in Thulcandra. But of this we know less than you; it is a thing we desire to look into [Out of the Silent Planet, Macmillan, 1947, p. 130].

Our Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ, is a cosmic Creator and a cosmic Redeemer. Just as the Old Testament prophets were inspired to tell of the grace of God awaiting future generations and “tried to find out what was the time, and what the circumstances, to which the spirit of Christ in them pointed, foretelling the sufferings in store for Christ and the splendours to follow”; and just as St. Peter and the other apostles were able to proclaim: “Now it has been openly announced to you through preachers who brought you the Gospel in the power of the Holy Spirit sent from heaven” (1 Pet. 1:11, 12); so too we may be permitted to say, These are things that angels in charge of other worlds and all the invisible orders of thrones, sovereignties, and powers that happen to have been created “through him and for him,” as the Apostle says, “long to see into.” We can even conceive of a missionary role for the ransomed of earth into the farthest limits of outer space. For the worship of heaven will ever be the worship of “the Lamb in the midst of the throne.” By the light of the Lamb “shall the nations walk, and the kings of the earth shall bring into it all their splendour … but nothing unclean shall enter, nor anyone whose ways are false or foul, but only those who are inscribed in the Lamb’s roll of the living” (Rev. 21:24–27, NEB).

The Challenge Off Resistance

No doubt a world in which matter never got out of place and became dirt, in which iron had no flaws and wood no cracks, in which gardens had no weeds, and food grew already cooked, in which clothes never wore out and washing was as easy as the soapmakers’ advertisements describe it, in which rules had no exceptions and things never went wrong, would be a much easier place to live in. But for purposes of training and development it would be worth nothing at all.

It is the resistance that puts us on our mettle: it is the conquest of the reluctant stuff that educates the worker. I wish you enough difficulties to keep you well and make you strong and skillful!

—HENRY VAN DYKE

John W. Duddington has retired from the post of associate rector of St. Peter’s Episocpal chruch, Redwood City, California. He previously was a caplian at Stanford University and a missionary in the Phillippians and China. He has the M.A. (Durham University, England).

Unless we find some way of knowing when a church is large enough, we may be in for an era of superchurches with attendance and membership figures of 3,000, 5,000, and 10,000. And if 10,000 is not too large, why not a church of 20,000 or even 50,000? If the only effective restriction is the size of the auditorium and related facilities, we can build Astrodomes to handle the crowds. There are great pressures on the Church to conform, and since the trend in government and business is toward ever larger operations, the religious conglomerate may be just around the corner.

In a continuing series on “Great Churches in America,” a well-known Christian journal has thus far covered large churches exclusively. The implication is that smaller churches are somehow failing, that the future belongs to the church big enough to attract the world’s attention. But surely we don’t believe that the only effective strategy for reaching America is found in the superchurch.

Granting that a healthy church is a growing church, who determines when or how that growth will peak? Is the ultimate size of a congregation to be determined by such unrelated factors as leadership capacity, lay vision, availability of more land, community exhaustion, and social change? Very few growing churches have any plan to stop expanding. There is always another program to set up, another staff member to add, another building to erect. And larger buildings mean more programs must be developed to make effective use of expensive facilities, and so still more staff must be engaged. Inevitably the cycle stops somewhere. The rate of growth first slows down and then stops. Attendance charts once posted in hallways are hidden away in closets. With more than a hint of self-reproach these churches look for the reason why they have stopped growing. Rarely do they consider the prior question of whether they should be larger.

There is a better strategy than open-ended growth. For every church of 2,000 or more, there are hundreds of vital churches that maintain or have the capacity to maintain a congregation of 400–600. These middle-sized churches have strengths denied the truly small church, yet avoid many of the weaknesses inherent in the developing superchurch. In the first place, a church of 400–600 can usually support a professional staff of at least two pastors. This avoids the weakness of the small church that may have a pastor who excels in the pulpit but founders in Christian education.

Adequate finances also mean that a church can move beyond the point of self-preservation. An alarmingly large number of smaller churches are excessively introspective. They have to be. Loss of a key family or the temporary disenchantment of a generous member can spell real trouble. On the other hand, the mid-size church can be motivated not only to provide adequately for itself but also to give financial support to home and foreign missions. Surprisingly, the bulk of missionary support comes neither from the small church that is struggling to stay alive nor from the superchurch that is striving to be still larger but from the mid-size church that has the ability to look beyond its own needs. For example, a survey showed that per-capita giving for foreign missions in three of the largest evangelical congregations in America (average membership 7,228) was less than $20 in 1970. In the same year the Evangelical Free Church, a denomination with no churches among the country’s seventy-five largest, gave $92 per capita to missions.

The church of 400–600 also avoids the small-church syndrome of discouragement. A feeling of inadequacy and failure is often reflected in telling ways in small churches. Peeling paint, cluttered classrooms, and ink-stained bulletins can sometimes mean the small church has given up heart in its effort to reach its world. The mid-size church, however, can afford the kind of office tools and buildings it needs to provide a well-rounded ministry to the whole man. Such a ministry is possible, not only because of adequate financing, but also because a leadership pool either exists or can be developed that will provide trained workers.

Perhaps the greatest advantage of the mid-size church is its ability to provide diverse expression without losing personal contacts. In such a congregation, the pastor can know everyone by name. More important, he can know something about each person, visit in his home, share his joys and sorrows. This kind of contact still has value, not only for the pastor, who must preach to real people, but also for the layman, who learns that Sunday’s preacher is more than a good actor, that he, too, is flesh and blood.

There are extraordinary pastors who can personalize their ministry to the thousands. But very few people in their congregations will share their gift. For most of these, worship and fellowship activities will involve a few friends and a great many strangers. A young man recently wrote me about the appeal of a smaller church in which he had worshiped. “It seems that progress is actually retrogression. You feel yourself to be a dignified part of something only when you can identify the other parts. That ‘at home’ feeling increases with familiarity. And as a church gets bigger … well, you’ve seen what happens. When you feel lost in church you are really lost.”

In most churches the Sunday school is the place where people get to know one another best. But a disturbing trend is the number of large churches reporting just one or two adult classes. It is now possible to feel lost in Sunday school as well.

For many churchgoers, the prospect of being a number on a church’s computer tape activated by a contribution, birth, death, or some other vital statistic is somewhat disquieting. The world is depressingly depersonalized as it is, and for the Church to follow this trend is to eliminate one of its potential appeals to modern man.

A recent bulletin from one of the largest churches in the South announced nineteen activities for the week. As far as this reader could observe, only the Sunday church services were designed to involve more than one age level at a time. Even then, those younger than junior high were excluded. It seems that the larger the church, the more thoroughly it segregates its people by age and interest. If the Church is not to accentuate today’s generation gap, it seems that the smaller or mid-size church will have to be the trailbreaker. In most larger churches, couples with toddlers never get to know their older counterparts with teen-age children; people who are single, widowed, or divorced are rarely involved with families; and no one except the deaconesses and the minister of visitation knows the senior citizens. The mid-size church may not be able to offer a fellowship group for every special interest, but it may have the potential for producing greater appreciation for the diversity there is in the Body of Christ.

The person who wants to “worship and run” will be decidedly unhappy in a church where he can be known and identified. Too many Christians seem to crave great preaching and great music and are willing to pay any price except personal involvement to get it. They take up their weekly watch on the end of a pew, contribute to the offering, rejoice in the sermon, shake hands with a greeter (whose name they probably do not know), and are gone for another week. Such Christians will always be with us, perhaps, but we ought not to structure our church strategy to make it easy to be an invisible member of the Body of Christ.

The church that encourages long-distance commuting and buses large numbers from distant communities is unconsciously creating a warped picture of the Church unless it also provides opportunity for vital service and fellowship in those distant communities. The extent of the problem for the very large church is often dramatized by the great disparity between Sunday-school attendance and the turnout for other gatherings during the week. A Sunday-school attendance two and three times larger than worship-service attendance ought to make us nervously aware of the superchurch as a potential gathering place for the irresponsible Christian.

At just this point the mid-size church has its greatest advantage. It must be dependent upon its lay leadership. It cannot have a large staff of professionals; it must look to the layman to play his God-given role by the exercise of his spiritual gifts. There is no reason save clergy reluctance why laymen cannot chair important committees, prayerfully set goals, direct the spiritual ministries of their fellows. A church staff of twenty or forty or more, no longer uncommon, would be unnecessary if every layman was persuaded to take his proper place and to minister along with his pastor.

Recently the coordinator of one of the West Coast’s largest churches told me that when the church was established some fifteen years ago, the pastor was deliberately made answerable to no one. The reason given was that he never wanted to be put in the position of having his plans and programs thwarted. The result has been a benevolent dictatorship—successful, to be sure, but still a dictatorship. Such an “us and them” attitude is never articulated to the membership but is nevertheless discernible. A member of the church commented to me on the large turnover of talented, spiritually minded laypeople in leadership positions. Perhaps they were gifted to lead but never allowed to do so. Such a person may leave to take his place in a smaller church willing to utilize his God-given talents.

The matter of community visibility is a mixed blessing. A large church more easily attracts not only crowds but also critics. And one of the loudest complaints against churches in recent years is the amount of money spent in erecting buildings infrequently used. Congregations, districts, presbyteries, and denominations are becoming increasingly sensitive to the charge of “edifice complex.” Recently a large and vital church in metropolitan Washington, D. C., faced opposition to its building program from the local governing body, which was uneasy about the propriety of investing so heavily in brick and mortar when subsistence-level poverty existed just a few miles away. While equally sincere and well-meaning friends may argue on both sides of the question, the fact remains that large buildings usually have a greater cost per pew seat than smaller ones.

Church builder Richard Niehaus of Pittsburgh argues that greater cost is not the result of structural necessity. Economical construction is almost indefinitely expandable, he says. But large churches face subtle psychological pressures that make added luxuries and greater cost almost inevitable. There is the feeling that the large church “ought” to be impressive. Making that impression is usually a costly procedure.

The mid-size church is better able (though still pressured) to resist the call for grandeur and let its architecture speak its concern for people, not cathedrals. A startling fact is that interest alone on a $1 million loan would be sufficient to completely finance two or three churches designed for 400–600 people.

Indeed, financing for the very large church has led some into very strange alliances. Rare indeed is the church of size that has no income-producing property or stock holdings. In some cases the church can no longer stand alone, so wrapped up has it become in its financial maneuvers. No wonder such churches hesitate to speak clearly on social issues involving business or government. Surely such involvement was never pictured by Christ when he said, “I will build my church.”

Putting a limit on growth need not stifle either ambition or energy. There will always be a neighboring community in need of a Christian witness in our sprawling suburbias. A community of 500,000 will be served best, not by one superchurch or by 500 neighborhood chapels, but by fifty dynamic churches that know where they are going and when they get there!

The mid-size church can offer the security of a close family relationship and still provide many of the wide-ranging benefits of a larger church. Two or more dynamic churches serving a community could structure their parish programs to cooperate rather than compete. Perhaps because of location one is better suited to provide a ministry to senior citizens. Another has facilities for a youth center. In a developing community of young families, there may be still another primed to begin a Christian school. Every church would not be under pressure to provide a full complement of weekday activities and services but would be free to do whatever it does best. On Sundays there would still be the recognizable family of faith gathered for worship. On weekdays the program would scatter in different directions.

Perhaps it is idealistic to expect that already established churches could manage to find the kind of selfless honesty needed to initiate such a program. But there are churches that could rediscover the principle of mothering. From the very start there could be the awareness of establishing a cooperative ministry. Through this linking of the principle of mothering churches with the extended-parish idea, there could be a dynamic rebirth of vitality in America’s evangelical churches.

When it became apparent that the phenomenal church growth of the fifties was not going to continue on momentum alone, a much needed study of the dynamics of church growth began. Books, theses, conferences, and retreats have all helped to promote the various principles discovered. The fact that there are scores, perhaps hundreds, of churches now with attendance in the thousands proves that growth is not a phenomenon limited to one decade. But in the interest of manageable church fellowship, the time has come to study the upper limits of church growth. Optimum size may vary widely depending on local circumstances but will in every case be found by putting priority on people.

James A. Davey is pastor of Arlington Memorial Church of the Christian and Missionary Alliance, Arlington, Virginia. He received the B.A. degree from Wheaton College and the Th.B. from Nyack Missionary College.

Does the Church need a new strategy for reaching large metropolitan areas? Mobility and anonymity have created problems for church outreach, compounded by rapid population growth and the continued movement of Americans to metropolitan centers (suburban and urban). The Church apparently does not have the finances or manpower to establish a neighborhood geographical parish for every hundred acres that is transformed into a housing tract. There seems to be no effective, all encompassing program for maintaining churches in cities when people move to suburbia. The apartment dweller tends to be a reluctant prospect for the corner church. And rural areas are witnessing more church closings each year; many ministers do not want to live in a rural hamlet and minister “out of the action,” to a small congregation. These facts suggest that the neighborhood geographic parish church can no longer hope to reach all segments of our society with the Gospel.

There is a new movement in American church life that not only cuts across neighborhood boundary lines but also transcends socio-economic barriers and reaches rural as well as urban dwellers. It is the large multi-service church, which offers a diversified program aimed at reaching various segments of the population and ministering to the total man. The large, multi-service church may be part of an emerging strategy that can help evangelize our country.

Churches like these have large staffs. First Baptist in Dallas, for example, which has a weekly Sunday-school attendance of 5,112 (probably the best criterion of size, since a church may have many members but little participation and attendance, and since few churches keep an accurate count of attendance at the morning worship service), has more than one hundred employees.

These large churches offer various services besides preaching and teaching, such as professional counseling, recreation, deaf ministry, foreign-language classes and church services, homes and treatment for alcoholics, senior-citizen homes, day-care centers, halfway homes for released prisoners, homes for unwed mothers, suicide-prevention centers, drug centers, Christian schools (kindergarten through high school), colleges, printing ministries, financial counseling, music lessons, and social activities for single adults. First Baptist in Van Nuys, California (3,167 attendance), lists more than sixty meetings each week in addition to regular services.

The large church usually centers in evangelistic outreach. Highland Park Baptist in Chattanooga, Tennessee (4,935 weekly Sunday-school attendance), which says “soul winning” is its main purpose for existence, last year began a program in which members plan to witness personally to all 322,000 persons in the greater Chattanooga area. Ten of the twenty churches with the largest Sunday schools as listed in Christian Life magazine televise their Sunday-morning service. The main purpose in most of these churches is to present the Gospel to those outside the church.

Roland Allen, an Anglican minister, examined missionary strategy in his book Missionary Methods: St. Paul’s or Ours? He concluded that the Apostle Paul did not attempt to visit every hamlet but rather established strong centers to disseminate the Gospel. Because he began a strong church in the metropolitan center of Ephesus, the message reached all Asia: “And this took place for two years, so that all inhabited Asia heard the word of the Lord, both Jews and Greeks” (Acts 19:10). The large church has an outreach similar to that of a powerful television station. A TV station does not establish a tower and station in every small town but covers a large area by means of a strong broadcast signal. Similarly, the large church can reach over wide areas, ministering to people where they are with the Gospel as well as pulling them from long distances to the church.

People will travel as far to church as they travel to work or to buy groceries. Some members of large churches drive thirty or fifty miles one way. Thomas Road Baptist in Lynchburg, Virginia (3,387 attendance), ministers to a large number of people living on farms; some drive fifty miles from areas where rural churches have closed because no pastor was available.

The large church is usually committed to evangelizing the city or metropolitan area, while the small church is limited to a geographical neighborhood. And along with the purpose of reaching the multitudes, the large church has finances and manpower to carry it out. First Baptist in Dallas has divided the city into square-mile sections, with members and deacons assigned to follow up new converts and evangelize prospects within their areas. Landmark Baptist in Cincinnati (4,103 weekly attendance) has more than one hundred Sunday-school buses that fan out into all areas of the city to bring children and adults to church. Several buses travel more than thirty miles one way. Calvary Temple in Denver (2,650 weekly attendance) has the financial base to televise its morning worship service to Denver and into the northern Rocky Mountain area, reaching to the Canadian border. Cathedral of Tomorrow in Akron (attendance 1,430) televises its service to more than 275 different stations.

The large church makes possible the exercising of many spiritual gifts. Each fulltime staff member has a particular ability or strength, called in Scripture a “gift” (Eph. 4:11), that makes his ministry different from all others. The large church with several specialists on its staff can give closer attention to the individual needs of members. At First Baptist in Van Nuys, California, one minister trained in counseling handles psychological problems, while other ministers visit the sick and handle pastoral problems. Youth, music, and education specialists can minister in their particular areas. Southern Baptists have advocated adding one fulltime staff member with the addition of every one hundred attenders. This includes secretaries and custodians, so that a church of one thousand should have a staff of ten.

Business has led in innovation and change among social institutions, followed by government, education, and the Church, in that order, at an interval of three to ten years. Therefore the churches should look at business to see what innovations are on the horizon. The greatest innovation in the business community in recent years has been the principle of the shopping center. Two or more large businesses are located together, along with a group of supporting smaller businesses, with ample parking space. One large business will not draw the crowds as will the multiple-service shopping center. This strongly suggests that the multiple-service large church is a coming thing.

Dancing The Rainbow

sharing covenant

with Rebecca,

grey December cat,

in downhill dance

lichens & moss

surrounded by sun

share covenant too,

afternoon spillings

of energy,

obligations to the Creator

whose rainbow upholds

the scruboak

whose right hand uplifts

the ant

& feeds the zinging

wasp whose covenant

includes the poorest

stone, slowest beetle

& all the flaming nuclear

angels of the sun

among jackpine

& scruboak, we dance

within the rainbow-ring

of sure Promise

F. EUGENE WARREN

Dr. Robert Schuller of Garden Grove (California) Community Church (1,913 attendance) says of the large church:

We are trying to set up here a team management on a large enterprising basis for Jesus Christ. If I am still alive by the year 2000 … I expect to be addressing a group of young ministers and saying to them, “While it is a thrilling thing to feel the power and the impact of the enormously strong church in America today, some of you would never believe that in the 1960s and the early 1970s leaders in the church in America were predicting its demise. They were predicting that the church of the future would be away from ground and buildings into small homes and private cells and commune groups. How wrong they were. Only the established churches with building and staff and people and program can form a base for operation for the generations to come” [Decision, March, 1971].

Following in the steps of the Old Testament prophets, a pastor may feel led to speak out against political corruption, social abuses, and other local sins. Dr. Dallas Billington, minister of Akron (Ohio) Baptist Temple (5,801 attendance), usually comments on the political issues of Akron on the televised Sunday-morning church service. Whether or not one agrees with this practice or his conclusions, the fact is that the community is aware of Billington’s position and politicians usually interact with what he says. If he had only a small church, he probably would not have the ear of the community.

Recently the town council of Lynchburg, Virginia, prepared to vote on a recommendation to loosen restrictions on liquor. The vote was expected to be close. Dr. Jerry Falwell, minister of the Thomas Road Baptist Church, told the council, “The only voice this council will listen to is power. My church has 10,000 members and our town has only 53,000 people. If any council member votes for liquor, I’ll see that you are defeated at the next election.” The vote was 9 to 0 against easing the restrictions.

Emphasis on the large church does not mean neglect of the community church or home Bible-study group. There is a place for both the large and the small gathering of Christians. Balance is needed to see the total picture of God’s strategy for evangelizing an area.

America keeps growing in population and changing in life style. The large church has the flexibility to adapt its ministry to changing needs. It can have the tolerance first to accept, then to incorporate new life styles among its members or innovative methods of ministry.

Two years ago there was one church in America averaging more than 5,000 in Sunday school; last fall seven churches were that large. Within this decade we will probably have more than 200 large churches (that is, churches with average attendance of 2,500 or more), at least one in every large metropolitan area. The seventies is a decade of the rapidly growing metropolis, and also of the large, multi-service church, which attempts to evangelize the entire area with the Gospel and minister to its people’s total needs.

Elmer L. Towns is vice-president and academic dean of the new Lynchburg Baptist College, Lynchburg, Virginia. He previously taught at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School. He received the Th.M. from Dallas Seminary.

In this issue we are pleased to bring our readers a portion of the address Billy Graham delivered at the opening of the European Congress on Evangelism several months ago. Mr. Graham has had many contacts with the Jesus movement and gives some opinions concerning that part of it which stands within historic theological orthodoxy. Our readers will also be interested in the evaluation in our News section of one strand of the youth religious movement that we cannot commend.

We were very glad to hear that the widow of Lee Harvey Oswald, who shot John F. Kennedy, came forward to commit her life to Christ for salvation at the recent Graham crusade in Dallas.

Readers should find this issue more inviting, thanks to a change in type face. The style you are now looking at is bona fide Times Roman, which for reasons of appearance and legibility has been the recognized leader for many years. It is being supplied us by Cooke Typographers of Arlington, Virginia, on Intertype machines. Because of changes in the industry and economic pressures, many periodicals have been obliged to adopt so-called cold type, cheaper but with greater variations in quality. After an experiment with it, CHRISTIANITY TODAY is reverting to the more consistent hot-type system.