NEWS

The strength of the European Congress on Evangelism, held August 31-September 3 in Amsterdam, was also its inherent weakness: Never before had so many European evangelicals from so many backgrounds met. Cultural, language, and—perhaps most important—theological barriers hampered their understanding of one another.

Half of the 1,300 participants and observers were laymen; more than thirty-five countries were represented from Europe and the Near East. (The most colorful participant was an Egyptian sheik in flowing robes.)

Delegates streamed in from cold Norway and bright Greece, from the windy Hebrides and warm Rumania, from the secularized countries of the Common Market and from Communist-controlled Eastern Europe. Though church leaders from all these countries had met at conferences of the World Council of Churches and the European Conference of Churches, these persons—all connected with evangelistic work—had never before been together.

Representatives of various Italian groups and churches who had never met and didn’t even know of one another’s existence got acquainted on the plane that brought them from Milan to Amsterdam. And representatives who hadn’t had contact with one another in their home countries met in the marble halls of the beautiful International Congress Center of Amsterdam.

The European Congress was the fourth major regional congress on evangelism since the Berlin World Congress in 1966. But compared to the congresses in Singapore (1968), Minneapolis (1969), and Bogotā (1969), more shades of evangelicalism were represented; certainly many delegates had lived in greater isolation.

The congress—after Billy Graham’s keynote address—got off to a theological start with thorough studies by Dr. Gerhard Bergmann of Germany on “The Relevance of the Gospel Today,” followed by Henri Blocher of France on “The Lost State of Man,” and Dr. Carl Wisloff of Norway on “The Nature and Mission of the Church.”

Deep theological differences separated delegates and impeded dialogue, though all gladly claimed to accept the fundamentals of the faith. Hyper-Calvinists sat with Pentecostals, Plymouth Brethren got involved with state-church pastors, laymen and clergy were assigned to the same workshops, and church representatives and leaders of independent organizations sat side by side on the platform.

Though backed by the Evangelical Alliance, the congress represented many groups that never had had any contact with that oldest of all ecumenical movements, formed last century. The movement died long ago in Holland, and in countries like Hungary and Rumania it never existed. Yet they too sent large delegations.

Getting discussions rolling was no easy task. When participants whose mother language wasn’t English, French, or German finally stoked up courage to speak, the meeting was often over. Discussion was dominated by the English-speaking in the early sessions. Then, too, many participants weren’t used to group discussions; they were more oriented to the lecture approach. Still others took the view that no opposing voices should be heard: whenever someone would articulate a criticism, another would pop up and warn, “We must keep it beautiful.”

Tongues loosened considerably, however, when Free University professor H. R. Rookmaaker and French radio preacher Charles Guillot spoke on “Youth in Revolt.” Young people in their twenties and early thirties abounded; a seasoned observer estimated the average age of the delegates was forty. And the discussion began to roll in earnest under the leadership of evangelist David Foster and his colleagues in a dramatized production, “The Young Revolutionaries,” which tackled the drug problem.

During that program pop singer Cliff Richard told why he stayed in show business (“Now I sing in every program a song with a message”), and film star James Fox (Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines and Thoroughly Modern Millie) told how he was converted some months ago.

The program—which confronted the delegates with the need for practical change—was right in line with Graham’s opener about the Jesus movement and the Church’s need to be ready for a great influx of young people. The evangelist, who said he will concentrate his future evangelistic work in the United States, introduced the congress theme with a speech on “The Biblical Mandate to Evangelize.”

Graham observed that one of the greatest problems of the European churches is the reluctance of many theologians and clergymen to believe that people who have been baptized as infants and later confirmed still need another significant encounter with Christ. Without this realization, Graham said, the motivation for evangelism is largely lost.

“Somehow,” he continued, “I sense a feeling against evangelistic proclamation that has descended on many churches.… Preaching and witnessing for decision is downgraded to the level of propaganda.”

On September 1, Dutch journalist Jan J. van Capelleveen said the European churches are too often still living in the age of agriculture instead of moving into suburban society. He and Dr. John R. Stott pleaded with the congress to make use of not only verbal but also non-verbal means of witness.

From the outset the congress refused to adopt any resolutions or paper pronouncements. But on the final day the different language groups considered ways of implementing congress ideas.

National maxi- and regional minicongresses were planned for the near future. German delegates appointed a committee to study the feasibility of a pan-German congress on evangelism. The Finns decided to hold one, and the English set one for next May on strategies for evangelism. The French will start with regional congresses.

The German, British, and Finnish delegates, feeling the need for a new evangelical news agency, planned an information service that could grow into a daily operation. European participants concluded that until now they have relied too heavily on the West for help. Now they will explore more fully possibilities for indigenous evangelism.

Meanwhile, American observers and European participants met behind the scenes to discuss a possible second World Congress on Evangelism. On a Trans World Radio broadcast, CHRISTIANITY TODAY editor Dr. Harold Lindsell proposed that such a congress on evangelism be combined with one on missions, in the line of the Edinburgh conference of 1910. The two congresses should meet at the same time and place, Lindsell said, because missions and evangelism have common problems and challenges. Many delegates appeared agreeable to his suggestion.

In the closing message, Dr. Gilbert W. Kirby, principal of the London Bible College, called for total involvement in evangelism. Evangelicals shouldn’t be content with outdated church structures, hymns composed several centuries ago, and programs that disregard sociological changes, he said. Rather, churches must reappraise what they are doing, face the modern world as it is, and “ask ourselves how we are geared to cope with the task of reaching men and women with the Gospel.”

Inside the imposing International Congress Center there was much talk about reaching the world for Christ. Outside, at least one American observer put theory into practice. A Campus Crusade for Christ staffer led an attentive taxi driver to Christ while two overseas delegates waited for him to finish so the cabbie could drive them to their hotel.

World Witness Walk

Street evangelist Arthur Blessitt phased out a summer of ministry on Times Square in New York City this month and embarked on a cross-bearing witness walk around the world. Currently lugging an eight-foot cross through Great Britain and Ireland, he estimates the globe-encircling trip will take several years. His proposed itinerary includes the Middle East and Red China.

Before crossing the English Channel Blessitt plans to take a break and “vocalize spiritual issues” during the presidential primary election campaign in New Hampshire. “We need a President who is turned on to Christ, who will call the nation to repentance and prayer,” he says. He wants the new President to cancel the Inaugural Ball and to exchange “the wining and dining” for concern “over the tragic poverty and tremendous spiritual need outside the doors.” His staff is already organizing prayer groups and pre-election “Jesus rallies” in New Hampshire.

During his Times Square stint, Blessitt preached nightly to thousands, recorded hundreds of conversions, and trained many church youths in street evangelism. The latter included contingents of Spanish-speaking young people who have been leading witness marches in the city since then. Meanwhile, youth teams from Calvary Baptist Church uptown are carrying on the Jesus blitz in Times Square.

Exit Social Credit

Led by avowed evangelicals, the Social Credit political party has been in power in the Canadian province of Alberta since its founding there thirty-six years ago. On August 30, the voters of Alberta decided it was time for a change, and in an upset that stunned political observers, they chose Progressive Conservative Peter Lougheed to replace Social Credit premier Harry Strom.

Strom, 57, who had been in office since 1968, was a rancher. Lougheed, 43, is a lawyer and former professional football star.

The founder of Social Credit was William “Bible Bill” Aberhart, a radio preacher who served as premier of Alberta from 1935 until his death in 1943. He was succeeded by Ernest Manning, also a respected evangelical radio preacher, who served until his retirement. Strom, though not a preacher as such, is an active churchman who shares the evangelical convictions of his predecessors.

Social Credit is now the most conservative of Canada’s four major political parties. It took its name from an innovative scheme championed by Aberhart whereby dividends (social credit) were to be issued based upon the real wealth of the country to every person. The program has never been fully implemented beause the party has not been able to muster enough support on a national scale. But Social Credit leaders successfully guided development along traditional financial lines. Alberta and other provinces where the party has been in power have enjoyed great prosperity.

DAVID KUCHARSKY

Jews Clash With Quakers

A group of Jewish scholars has sharply criticized a widely circulated Quaker report on the Middle East. They suggested that the authors’ search was not for peace but for American friends for the Arab world.

The Quaker report, Search for Peace in the Middle East, was produced last year by the American Friends Service Committee and has received considerable attention. The seventy-one-page rebuttal was authored by four Jewish professors described as well-known for their interest in and knowledge of Middle East Affairs. It was published jointly by the American Jewish Congress and the Anti-Defamation League of B’nai B’rith.

The AFSC was accused of distorting historical fact to bolster a “preconceived” pro-Arab bias and masking the effort with claims of objectivity.

Turnabout In Montreal: Sermons In Science

The 10,000th showing of a Sermons from Science film at Montreal’s “Man and His World” exhibition was celebrated this month with the help of the French Catholic mayor, Jean Drapeau, who said the continued popularity of the Sermons from Science pavilion was a testimony to man’s abiding interest in eternal things. He then cut a 400-pound cake topped with a replica of the pavilion.

The Montreal exposition is the carryover of the Expo ’67 world’s fair. About two million people have visited the theater in the five years it has been open. The ministry has developed into a year-round outreach with various kinds of followup, including correspondence courses and home Bible sales. Most inquirers are French Catholics.

For Quebec, where evangelicals once treaded lightly because of Catholic opposition, the turnabout has been remarkable.

LESLIE K. TARR

The effectiveness of the European Congress on Evangelism cannot be measured solely by what happened there in Amsterdam (see News, page 40); its full impact will not be realized until two or five or ten years from now. Still, certain benefits already apparent made the congress worthwhile regardless of future returns.

Strong fraternal bonds were formed with delegates from behind the iron curtain. The enthusiastic reception given these people assured them of the support of their brethren in the West. They brought with them the news that many young people of the captive countries no longer are party to what one speaker called the worship of the three M’s—Marx, Marcuse, and Mao.

Often evangelicals from different circles within the same country got to know and appreciate one another for the first time at the congress. State-church believers, free-church adherents, and Pentecostals experienced their oneness in Christ despite important and continuing differences.

To foster and sustain this cooperative feeling by keeping evangelicals abreast of what others are doing, information agencies were set up in several countries. One might be bold enough to suggest that this trend could lead to a transdenominational organism of some sort that might be linked to other regional congresses on evangelism to form a fellowship with a new vision to finish the task of world evangelization.

The congress dealt not only with theology but also with evangelistic methodology—the “how” of reaching people with the Gospel. One participant was thrilled to see a practical demonstration: when he got into the back seat of a taxicab he discovered that a believer in the front seat was busily engaged in leading the cab driver to Christ. For that man far away from home, evangelism was something to be done wherever he was. Another man told of leading a cab driver to Christ on the way in to Amsterdam from the airport.

Contrasts between this congress and the 1968 General Assembly of the World Council of Churches in Uppsala, Sweden, were striking. The congress made no socio-political pronouncements, adopted no resolutions, did not seek to pressure governments with statements on war or poverty or race; yet participants strongly applauded those speakers who insisted that the individual Christian has a social role to play as a member of Caesar’s kingdom and should be concerned about matters of race and poverty and war. At Amsterdam there was no visibility for radical theologians and Communist-oriented revolutionaries, if indeed there were any present. And again in contrast to Uppsala, the air was not foul with fumes from the lethal cigarette.

The theological emphasis of the Amsterdam congress was biblically evangelical. All men are lost, delegates agreed, and Christ is the only way of salvation; there was no specter of either syncretism or universalism. A captivating account of conversion was told by James Fox, a movie actor who has played opposite Julie Andrews. And England’s well-known singer Cliff Richard was well received not only for his music but also for his story of the saving grace of Christ and of his efforts to use his musical talent to further the Gospel.

Billy Graham, the only non-European to address the congress, brought a statesmanlike, prophetic, and profound message. He analyzed the world scene, showed the plight of the Church in a transitional age, and called for faithful adherence to the biblical mandate to evangelize. He responded to the European interest in the Jesus movement by vividly describing its place on the American scene and acutely analyzing its main characteristics. Graham called upon evangelicals to expect great things from God and attempt great things for God.

The first World Congress on Evangelism was convened in 1966 as a tenth-anniversary project of CHRISTIANITY TODAY. Now that a number of regional congresses have been held, the time seems ripe for another world congress. The suggestion has been made that two congresses assemble at the same time in 1973, one on missions and the other on evangelism. Some sessions would be held together and some separately. The famous Edinburgh missionary conclave of 1910 was based on missionary sending agencies, not on denominations. No similar gathering has been held since then. The time has come for a second world missionary conference, linked with a world evangelism congress; in this way the two major parts of the evangelistic arm of the Church could be brought into tandem to finish the task assigned to the Church by Jesus Christ two thousand years ago. Perhaps the slogan could be: Evangelize to a finish by a.d. 2000! If this is done, the Church militant will become the Church triumphant, for when the Great Commission is fulfilled the Church will be able to say with its Lord, “It is finished”—and the Lord will come!

EDITORIALS

During the 1966 Church and Society conference in Geneva an enterprising local newspaper sought out six prominent participants and asked, “What is the major obstacle to world peace?” The specially chosen churchmen and scholars, who represented four continents and five religious denominations, offered a variety of answers with an average length of about one hundred words. The major obstacles the six cited were: the division between rich and poor nations; national pride leading to selfishness; the economic bondage of emergent nations; deficient realization of human brotherhood; lack of concern for the total welfare of mankind; difference in understanding between the current ideologies.

There is a great deal of truth in these points, for the Christian who is not actively concerned about the world’s disparities has an imperfect grasp of the Gospel. But that these were the answers given to this particular question is depressing, for it shows how curiously circumscribed is the modern interpretation of peace. One of the six conferees mentioned the name of God—as a sort of wispy auxiliary force—but otherwise the responses would have received the enthusiastic imprimatur of any assembly of decent godless folk.

Peace is a word that seems to have been largely appropriated by the world, and given the world’s own stamp, so that it is taken largely to describe an absence of conflict. In the process its image has been somewhat tarnished, for it has been pressed into service to boost dubious causes: the kind of unruly anti-war demonstration to which we have become accustomed has no necessary connection with the things that belong unto our peace. Unless, that is, militant pacifism is accompanied not only by individual repentance for each marcher’s part in the collective guilt for war, but also by an acknowledgment that basically the heart of man is desperately wicked. War, after all, is merely one manifestation of man’s attempt to live out his life without the God who can give us that true peace which is a precondition of peace between man and man. We know all too well that the absence of war does not mean the presence of peace.

Even the Prague-based Christian Peace Conference shows a deficient understanding of peace. Although to its credit the organization does not wait till hostilities come before protesting against war but has the pursuit of peace as its very reason for being, its contribution is diminished by a certain lack of political disinterestedness. In addition to that, however, anyone who has listened to the CPC’s acrimonious sessions or has followed its bitter domestic squabbles is likely to be conscious of a ludicrously delimited approach to “peace.”

The Christian ought not to settle for an inadequate conception of peace. “A mental or spiritual state in which there is freedom from that which is disquieting …”—this definition leaves a negative and unsatisfying impression. Moreover, peace as the world knows it is a relative term. We can be free of war but have our cities disrupted by industrial strife and our streets and parks made dangerous by lurking violence. Our lives are assailed by pressures and anxieties, and Matthew Arnold’s world-weary character is familiar to us:

Her life was turning, turning,

In mazes of heat and sound,

But for peace her soul was yearning …

The believer, like David, has need of a strong refuge from “the pride of man and the strife of tongues” (Ps. 31:20). This does not mean a retreat into the cloisters in an attempt to keep ourselves unspotted from the world till the coming crowning day. It means being active in the market place, yet with the quiet heart that comes from “seeing Him who is invisible.”

Such peace is positive and many-sided. The Old Testament shalom (“completeness,” “soundness,” “wholeness,”) is still common usage among Semitic peoples. The word can denote the ideal condition of neighborliness (Ps. 28:3) and the mark of wellbeing and security (Eccles. 3:8). Isaiah points it out as the reward of a God-stayed mind (26:3), and the opposite of what the wicked can expect (48:22). It is commended by Zechariah (8:16) in association with honest dealing and true justice, and it figures prominently in the description of the coming Messiah (Isa. 9:6).

The New Testament continues and adds to these views of peace. The Greek word eirene is used of the result of God’s forgiveness (Phil. 4:7); of the ideal relation with one’s brother (2 Cor. 13:11), to bring which was part of Christ’s reconciling mission; and of Christ himself (Eph. 2:14 ff.).

The bringing of peace summarizes the gospel message (Acts 10:36). Peace is a mark of serenity (John 14:27) to be sought after (Heb. 12:14). It is one of the fruits of the Spirit (Gal. 5:22); will give benefit to those who practice it both now (Ja. 3:18) and at the Parousia (Rom. 2:10); and is the opposite of disorder or confusion (1 Cor. 14:33).

The question asked by the Swiss newspaper cited earlier ought to have elicited another: “What is world peace?” Humanly speaking it is an unrealistic concept when what many would settle for would be “to increase the probability of a world that minimizes the incentives for armed, violent solutions to conflict situations.” The Bible, on the other hand, has made it clear that the world will know no peace until the return of the Prince of Peace.

Until that time, peace properly understood does not come other than individually. Last century a Russian youth was summoned before a czarist court for his refusal to be drafted. Pleading his own case, he defended himself by quoting passages from the Gospels. The judge intervened: “But, my son, that is the Kingdom of Heaven, and it has not come yet.” “Your honor,” replied the young man, “it may not have come for you, but it has come for me.”

Come to the word peace on the world’s terms and we are chasing a will-o’-the-wisp: not only is it a shadowy truncated goal, but it is in any case unattainable. Peace is not the absence of conflict but the presence of God. The world, which cannot give or understand it, cannot take it away. The Christian who knows that true peace has come for him is charged to tell others that it may come for them too, through Christ, who alone is our Peace.

The Scrutiny Of Dissent

The following prayer by Alexander Solzhenitsyn appeared in 1966 in Vestnik, a publication of the Russian Student Movement, and was reprinted in the April, 1971, issue of Religion in Communist Dominated Areas:

How easy it is for me to live with You, Lord! How easy it is for me to believe in you! When my thoughts get stuck or my mind collapses, when the cleverest people see no further than this evening and do not know what must be done tomorrow, You send down to me clear confidence that You exist and that You will ensure that not all the ways of goodness are blocked.

From the summit of earthly fame I look round with wonder at that road through hopelessness to this point, from which even I have been able to shed abroad among men the refulgence of Your glory.

And You will grant me to express this as much as is necessary. And insofar as I am not able to do it, that means You have allotted this to others.

An incident last month gave Solzhenitsyn even more reason to be thankful that he can turn to God. The Nobel prize-winning novelist, whose works have set him at odds with Soviet authorities, said that secret police raided his country residence and assaulted a friend who discovered them. The charges were contained in a letter of complaint Solzhenitsyn wrote to the chief of Soviet security police. Copies were circulated in Moscow and made available to Western newsmen.

This was but the latest of a long series of harassments, according to Solzhenitsyn. The letter declared, “For many years I have borne in silence the lawlessness of your employees, the inspection of all my correspondence, the confiscation of half of it.” He cited “the search of the homes and the official and administrative persecution of my correspondents, the spying around my house, the shadowing of visitors, the tapping of telephone conversations, the drilling of holes in ceilings, the placing of recording apparatus in my city apartment and at my cottage, and a persistent slander campaign against me from speakers’ platforms when they are offered to employees of your ministry.”

Such surveillance is not, of course, peculiar to the Soviet Union or to Communist countries. But in a democratic society, these allegations from a respected citizen would—at the very least—be reason enough to initiate a public court battle, which in turn could muster enough public sentiment to topple an elected government. In his courageous letter, Solzhenitsyn challenged the Soviet police chief to allow a similar resolution of the case: “I demand from you, Citizen Minister, the public identification of the robbers, their punishment as criminals, and an explanation of this incident.” We shall see.

In A Black Hole

The Community Sex Information and Education Service Inc. operates a Manhattan answering service for people who haven’t read—or haven’t wanted to buy—Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex—But Were Afraid to Ask. Founded by nurse-psychologist Ann Welbourne, the service is staffed by ten paid, trained personnel in sociology and psychology, with twenty-five trained volunteers answering the telephones from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. The purpose, says nurse Welbourne, is to “dispel myths with facts.” “Our basic philosophy is to be non-judgmental; it’s usually a matter of just giving information.” Since its inception two months ago, the number of calls has doubled to more than 160 a day.

This exemplifies the twentieth century’s obsession with “fact”; this label is used for those things regarded as truth and reality because they are more or less directly perceived. Man analyzes and categorizes himself into organs and complexes, and disregards the spiritual, transcendent aspect of his nature. C. S. Lewis in The Pilgrim’s Regress graphically describes this phenomenon. John, in intellectual and spiritual prison, looks around in terror at his fellow prisoners. “A woman was seated near but he did not know it was a woman, because, through the face, he saw the skull and through that the brains and the passages of the nose, and the larynx, and the saliva moving in the glands and the blood in the veins: and lower down the lungs panting like sponges, and the liver and the intestines like a coil of snakes. And when he averted his eyes from her they fell on an old man, and this was worse for the old man had a cancer. And when John sat down and drooped his head, not to see the horrors, he saw only the working of his own inwards.”

Preoccupation with sensory data leads to blindness; no longer can man see man as anything but a physiological animal. Even the wonder at man’s biological intricacies is gone. In trying to free himself through “fact” man has thrown himself into a black hole: “Hence all their thinking has ended in futility, and their misguided minds are plunged in darkness.”

Bernadette Devlin: Mother And Maverick

Bernadette Devlin is passionately concerned for humanity, particularly that section of it to be found in her own parliamentary constituency of Mid-Ulster. “My public,” she calls them, “for whom I haven’t done miracles, freed the people, produced civil rights, or lived up to the image of St. Bernadette.” That image was in the eyes of some further tarnished last month when the unmarried twenty-four-year-old gave birth to a daughter. The inevitable correspondence in the Times of London disclosed a fair amount of sympathy for her, with one eminent Englishman dryly remarking that while she might be the first unmarried mother in the House, that venerable building may have seen some unmarried fathers.

That Miss Devlin is a very independent young lady indeed is seen in more than her refusal to consider abortion, name the father of her child, or have it adopted. On Northern Ireland she has very definite views, and not always those we might expect, as can be seen in her autobiography, The Price of My Soul (Vintage Books, $1.95). Brought up a Roman Catholic of humble origin, she is convinced that “there are very few Christians in Northern Ireland,” the place where people hate each other in the name of Jesus Christ. “Among the best traitors Ireland has ever had,” she declares, “Mother Church ranks at the very top, a massive obstacle in the path to equality and freedom.” Similar barbed shafts are sent winging toward “the Reverend Ian.” Miss Devlin is convinced that Dr. Paisley dislikes socialism more than popery, and loves power best of all. She holds, not without justification, that both Catholic and Protestant churches should long ago have been campaigning for the dignity of the people and the breakdown of sectarianism in the province. And they did nothing.

About herself she explodes some fallacies. In 1968 she grew out of Republicanism, with its dream of an unpartitioned Ireland, and took to “concern for nonpolitical social justice.” She shrewdly refuses to think of Ulster’s troubles as Catholic versus Protestant when unemployment in places seldom falls below 10 per cent and half the houses lack at least one basic amenity.

But neither, Miss Devlin protests, is she a Communist; she and her colleagues, in fact, pushed the Communists out of the civil-rights movement because they were “as reactionary as the Unionists.” Life, she insists, has made them socialists: “what’s so frightening about being left—if it’s the only way to get justice?” It is to some a cogent argument. She tells of a taxi driver’s comment as he took her one day to the British legislature: that only two honest people had ever entered the building—herself and Guy Fawkes.

Miss Devlin may have a certain capacity for selectivity and self-deception, and may too have made maximum mileage out of the uncouth-urchin-takes-Westminster-by-storm image. But repudiation of Republicanism and Communism, and championing of social justice for its own sake, might suggest an honesty and singlemindedness one finds sometimes in political mavericks who owe nothing to a city hall that deals in prices but not souls. Bernadette Devlin is spectacularly in rebellion against the Church because the Church was conspicuously not in rebellion against the status quo in Ulster. In that fact is indictment of an immorality with far wider implications than that leveled against Miss Devlin. It might throw up an uncomfortable thought for Christians everywhere to ponder.

Missionaries And The Devalued Dollar

One result of the President’s economic policy that all Christians should keep in mind is its effect upon missionaries. These men and women serve as our representatives, and we send them dollars to enable them to live and to minister. But now in many countries their dollars will be exchanged into a smaller amount of the local currency than before. Americans in government and commercial employment abroad are generally paid high enough salaries that the dollar devaluation will cause them little hardship. This is not the case with many missionaries.

In Japan, for example, where many Americans are representing Christ on behalf of us, a dollar income that bought just enough yen to pay for necessities now won’t buy as many yen. Since Japanese rents and prices haven’t gone down, a missionary may suffer hardship if his income remains the same.

Christians and congregations should begin sending more funds to the mission societies with which they deal for transmittal, whenever officially permitted, to those overseas who have been adversely affected by the de facto devaluation of the dollar. Instead of indulging in self-pity over the supposed long-range hardships that some of us may think are imposed upon us by the new policies, let us consider the immediate and obvious effect upon those who represent us on minimal incomes in the spreading of the Good News abroad.

An honest appraisal of the youth scene forces us to admit that the plight of many young people is not of their own making—they are sent into the world without chart or compass. The accelerated departure from moral and spiritual values by young people mirrors the moral and spiritual decadence of adults.

Nevertheless we are convinced that the average young person wants to know the score; he does want spiritual confrontation and challenge. When faced with the greatest spiritual challenge, he often gladly capitulates to Christ as the living Saviour and Lord of his life. The “Jesus movement” is an unexpected but welcome proof of this.

Why is this a generation morally lax and spiritually blind? Recently we talked with an experienced law enforcement officer discouraged and frustrated at the problems he faced—willful destruction of property, hooliganism, gang fights, open promiscuity, thievery, and complete disrespect for law and order. He admitted that these are not always the actions of young people from “across the tracks,” but often are committed by those whose parents have financial security and social standing.

Basic to the problem, as already indicated, is that adults have failed young people. We have ignored Christ’s warning that man does not live by bread alone. He is more than an animal with appetites; meaningful values are eternal rather than secular and material. The higher man’s attainments in education and culture, the greater his capacity to sin, unless with these achievements he recognizes the spiritual and moral controls proceeding from God and revealed in his word.

Parents are to blame for the predicament of youth, if they have failed to give their children a biblical sense of values. The Church is to blame for the predicament of youth if it has sponsored “youth programs” glorifying the humanitarian aspects of Christian responsibility but neglecting instruction on how to become a Christian. The Church is also at fault for the predicament of both parents and children if it has emphasized superficial or peripheral matters and ignored the spiritual verities that are the heart of the Christian faith.

If the predicament of youth is to be solved, certain steps must be taken. For many the time is late, almost too late. In the Church there must be a dedication, or rededication, of parents to God through faith in Christ with a new emphasis on Bible instruction and obedience to God’s laws. Parents must reclaim their biblical authority as priests of the family altar and instruct their children in God’s ways. The average young person is spiritually illiterate, for he has discarded Scripture as ancient folklore, rather than studying it as today’s most relevant book.

But what of that great mass of young people living beyond the reach of godly parents or Christ-centered churches? Where they are concerned, it is not enough to speak of spiritual awakening within the home, of a revitalization of the Church and her programs. While we pray and work for this, we also must pray and work for those millions of young people who are living where Christ is unknown and where little is being done to reach them. Again we say, thank God for the “Jesus kids”—back them with all that you have!

Concerned Christians must reach out to unchurched youth. We must use spiritual methods and weapons while remembering that these are often secular, material, and practical. An intelligently organized program for young people will have secular and material props. These young people must be reached where they are, not where we would like them to be.

In response to the spiritual anemia in many denominational programs, a number of independent organizations have emerged—for example, Young Life, Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship, the Navigators, and Campus Crusade for Christ. All are thoroughly Christ- and Bible-centered and oriented to the needs of students and young people. Where encouraged, these organizations actively cooperate with local churches.

There is no quick and easy solution for the plight of the young. It requires the prayers and dedication of both parents and the Church. These young people are trapped by neglect and false values. But the Gospel is not bound. It is God’s power for salvation, with the moral and spiritual values strong enough to free man. Let’s get back on the road to freedom and help our youth to find it. Young people need Christ and they need him now! There is no time to waste.

The Urgency Of Doing Justice

Marxism and Radical Religion: Essays Toward a Revolutionary Humanism, edited by John C. Raines and Thomas Dean (Temple University, 1970, 176 pp., $8.50), The Constructive Revolutionary: John Calvin and His Socio-Economic Impact, by W. Fred Graham (John Knox, 1971, 254 pp., $7.95), and Reformation or Revolution: A Study of Modern Society in the Light of Reformational and Scriptural Pluralism, by E. L. Hebden Taylor (Craig, 1970, 632 pp., $12.50), are reviewed by C. T. McIntire, assistant professor of history, Institute for Christian Studies, Toronto, Ontario.

We are coming to realize, slowly, that “the Christian life” involves more than personal piety and belief, manifested in devotions, church attendance, and evangelism. The questions are pressing: Doesn’t our “life” include everything we do? Isn’t our commitment to Christ supposed to shape everything we do? What, then, is the inner relation of Christian faith to our life in the social order?

The three books here reviewed offer some answers. Strikingly, all three reject individualism; they also reject Marxist-Leninism. They all insist that one’s view of man will shape his perception of the social order and his task in it. All quite clearly urge acting on the principles discussed and not merely appreciating them intellectually.

Marxism and Radical Religion differs from the other two on the key point, however. As its subtitle suggests, revolutionary humanism, rather than biblical Christianity, is its hope. The volume is a collection of eight essays, each by a different author, presented during a two-day conference on “Marxism, Religion, and the Liberal Tradition” held at Temple University in 1969. The authors make up a Who’s Who of the noteworthy spokesmen for new directions in Marxism and in ecumenical Christianity: Herbert Marcuse, leading neo-Marxist philosopher; Jan M. Lochman, successor to Josef L. Hromadka among Czechoslovakian Christian supporters of the Communist revolution there in 1948; Richard Shaull, prominent Christian revolutionary who is on the faculty of Princeton Theological Seminary; John C. Bennett, the dean of Christian liberalism; Paul M. Van Buren, well known for his work on “secular theology.”

Marcuse’s contribution, the lead essay, is sketchy but suggestive, and sets up the categories for much of what follows. Both the liberal democratic tradition of the Western world and the Marxist-Leninist tradition of Communism, he argues, have resulted in rigid establishments that today impede the achievement of an authentically liberated man in a liberated society. Nearly all the other authors agree, especially Lochman and Shaull.

For Marcuse, and the others, the earnest search is on for the key to something really new. The truly free society, writes Marcuse, “can never be a mere by-product of new institutions and relationships, no matter how basic.” It can be achieved only through “a new type of man, a different type of human being, with new needs, capable of finding a qualitatively different way of life, and of constructing a qualitatively different environment.” All the contributors who speak to this issue agree.

The new kind of man is best portrayed, Marcuse believes, in the early writings of Marx, especially The Economic-Philosophical Manuscripts, antedating the rigid scientism of Das Capital. He is the “all-around individual” who “fulfills the potentialities of the human species” with his “mental faculties” and “his senses, in his sensibility and sensitivity,” who is “physiologically incapable of tolerating an ugly, noisy, and polluted universe.”

That early Marx is the definitive revelation is argued by John C. Raines, an editor of the volume, in his essay “From Passive to Active man.” Early Marx, says Raines, was the first one to free man totally from the notion Raines mistakenly finds common to paganism and Christianity, that man is “a passive imitator of some higher transcendent order or orderer.” On the contrary, for Marx, man creates himself, man is active toward himself and nature, man holds the human world as his own responsibility and risk.

The whole matter is summarized by a pungent quotation from Marx in the front of the book: “To be radical is to grasp things by the root. But for man the root is man himself.” Therein lies the key to the subtitle, revolutionary humanism, as well as to the major disappointment of the book.

The curious thing about the volume, a kind of Marxist-Christian dialogue, is that the initiative in supplying the critique of society’s ills as well as the solution emanates from secularly spirited sources. The confessionally Christian writers seem to do with revolutionary humanism what Shaull laments Christians have done for the last century. The church follows after and provides a “sacral validation” for the way opened by secular thinkers. Thereby Christianity discredits itself as an original transforming power.

The concluding essays by Van Buren and Thomas Dean, the co-editor, underscore the problem further. Van Buren testifies that he is one of those who are partially alienated from the Christian tradition. Judged by the criterion of man, he affirms, Christianity has a bad record, especially on the point of making man subservient to God. He, apparently, is one of those nurtured in Christianity who no longer believe there is a God who acts in the world now or has acted in the past. Van Buren “wants to affirm man and not God.” The secular humanist self-awareness underlying radical movements bent on changing our society will increasingly be shared by Christians of Van Buren’s sensitivity.

To this point, especially, Dean responds that Van Buren’s is the best qualified “theology” to dialogue with Marxist humanism, but clearly “the dependent rather than the creative partner.” Dean concludes that Christians who seek their nourishment for the transformation of society from secular sources, including Marx, are of little original help. What is needed, he believes, is to get beyond thinking that is “theistic” or “antitheistic” and “clear the ground for a new secular faith for this post-religious world” in which we find ourselves in the twentieth century.

The two other volumes propose a fundamental alternative to the first: rather than settle Christianity in with revolutionary humanism inspired by young Marx, and thereby both emasculate Christianity and evangelize for a secular faith, W. Fred Graham and E. L. Hebden Taylor urge that Christians and non-Christians alike find the hope they seek in a recovery of the biblical message of man as the image-bearer of God, transformingly remade in Christ.

Both authors would agree with Marcuse that a new type of man is needed who can shape a qualitatively different way of life in the social order. That man, in Taylor’s vision, is one of the new people of God, the ecclesia, who are the new mankind, already, because of Christ, experiencing healing, the wholeness of life, in a world pained by brokenness. Revolutionary humanism, he would argue, is a secular reflection of the new man in Christ, but without the transforming power of God, and hence illusory, a dead end.

Graham and Taylor complement each other very nicely. The Constructive Revolutionary is mainly historical, examining John Calvin’s social and economic thought and practice in sixteenth-century Geneva. Taylor’s work, with its misleading title, is Christian social and economic philosophy, drawing largely upon the Calvinist tradition, especially the new Calvinist movement in the Netherlands and elsewhere associated with Abraham Kuyper and his successor in philosophy Herman Dooyeweerd. Both books are not simply academic treatments but calls to a change of ways among Christians.

Graham, an associate professor of religion at Michigan State University, presents a revisionist study arguing that Calvin should not be treated simply as theologian, or worse, as the propagator of some austere doctrine of depravity and one who somehow had a hand in burning Servetus. Graham, whose education includes studies in theology and a doctorate in history, ranges through voluminous sources, especially Calvin’s sermons and commentaries and Genevan archives. He examines a wide range of Genevan social issues and institutions, including refugee treatment, the cost of living, working conditions and wages, labor relations, hospitals, schools, family life, the state and the churches.

The emerging picture is quite unlike the old stereotype of Calvin’s Geneva as a rigid moralistic theocracy. Instead Graham shows us a man and a historical movement that sought to implement the Gospel of Christ in every dimension of Genevan life. Calvin in no way limited the Christian dynamic to church and inner personal life. For him, Christian faith was to transform a whole way of life in society. The question, Does the Gospel relate to the social order?, never arose; the Calvinists simply tried to live out Christian social principles naturally.

According to Graham, Calvin was animated by a constant concern that “what one does must be of benefit to the whole church and the community of mankind.” Men, whether officials in government, owners of goods, masters in business, teachers in school, fathers in the family, were never to take their authority as absolute; it was always to be restrained and limited under the Master, who is Christ. All things were God’s, held in trust by men to use for the common good and the glory of God. The state should be judged by whether it does justice, especially toward those in real need—the poor, the weak, the afflicted. Writes Graham, “For Calvin it was the treatment of the weak in society that really determined the value of a political regime.” In all things the rule of love, of mutual care and cooperation, is to govern.

Graham is critical of Calvin on many counts, especially his Christology, but argues that his failings should be judged in the context of the sixteenth century, and of his overriding concern to practice love of neighbor and justice.

In a disarming passage, Graham remarks that he “would insist that Calvin’s social and economic teachings were clearly just as important to Calvin himself, and might just as well be used as the yardstick of Calvinist orthodoxy.”

Taylor’s tour de force measures up to that yardstick quite well. Taylor, an Anglican with a master’s from Cambridge University, produces a study unusual among evangelicals in the English-speaking world. He wants the new people of God to minister, in Christ’s name, the healing power of the Gospel to social and economic brokenness. Such healing, or shalom, he maintains, is integral to the full meaning of redemption.

Take the problem of the degradation of work (chapters 2, 10). Secularism has rendered work a “job” or a “function” or a “statistic.” Both Adam Smith and Marx reduced man to his economic life. The rule of technique and pragmatism atomized and depersonalized the factory. Christian socio-economic action, by business executives, labor officials, consumers, could minister healing by restoring meaning to work as vocation, the calling by which men serve God and their fellow men in the production and distribution of goods from the wealth of the earth.

Taylor does not limit the relevance of the Gospel to the “moral” aspects of the social order; rather he addresses the Good News to issues intrinsic to the central and characterizing matters of social and economic life: the nature of business enterprise, relations between management and labor, wage determination, working conditions, automation and mechanization, labor unions, the state’s relation to industry, the nature of property, the place of profits, and much more. He rejects the contention that Christianity should add something to the already secularly formed social matters; instead he insists that, in biblical perspective, there are no independent aspects of life that may be considered a priori secular. There is only social life informed by the Christian message of shalom or by some other religious dynamic, be it a secular humanist faith such as that called for by Thomas Dean or something else.

In this sense, Taylor can conclude that, aware of our sin, “as Christ’s Body in the world we are to struggle for nothing less than the redemption and reformation of society as a whole.”

The heart of Taylor’s Christian social philosophy is his exposition of “societal pluralism.” This, he posits, is a Protestant Christian principle. In lengthy, somewhat uneven chapters, he contrasts this principle critically with Communist collectivism, which makes the state omnicompetent; with liberal democratic individualism, which atomizes society into individual particles; and with Roman Catholic subsidiarity, with which he has some sympathy, but which he believes subsumes the social order under the dogmatic and moral teachings of the church institution. Taylor’s perspective does not fit the usual conservative-liberal spectrum of American social and political thinking.

“Societal pluralism” receives each social relationship as distinct from, yet interdependent and coordinate with, all others. Family, marriage, state, church, industry, social clubs, art associations—each has its own characterizing norms, he argues, rooted in the creation order. Men never create de novo any social relationship; rather, they give cultural shape, out of their religious dynamic, to creationally given norms that define one social structure from another. For example, Taylor shows, there are various kinds of states today—liberal democratic, Roman Catholic, Communist, Islamic—yet all are in the societal category of states and not of families, or social clubs. In the idea of societal pluralism, whatever we may think of some of his many particular suggestions on implementing it, Taylor offers a significant insight that a few other political theorists—Robert A. Nisbet, Robert A. Dahl, Jacques Ellul, Bernard Zylstra—have recently discussed.

The import of Taylor’s exposition is that Christians, not simply as single persons but as the community of the saints, are mandated to do the good works of the Gospel within the variety of institutions of the social order.

This seems markedly superior to the concrete proposals that appear in Marxism and Radical Religion: Richard Shaull’s small, withdrawing, and undifferentiated “paradigmatic communities,” John C. Bennett’s relatively ordinary notion of reform in liberal democracy, and Lochman’s defense of the assumptions of a socialist society.

There’s heady reading in these three volumes, but biblically enlivened Christians must get to it, discerning the spirits. It should impel us to change our ways when those who look to revolutionary humanism for the new type of man have seen so little evidence of Christ’s transforming redemption in the way Christians have lived in the social order. These books, especially those by Graham and Taylor, can help us get on with the task in society of doing justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with our God.

Black Churchmen Speak Out

Quest for a Black Theology, edited by James J. Gardiner and J. Deotis Roberts, Sr. (Pilgrim, 1971, 111 pp., $5.95), Liberation and Reconciliation: A Black Theology, by J. Deotis Roberts (Westminster, 1971, 205 pp., paperback, $3.50), The Jesus Bag, by William H. Grier and Price M. Cobbs (McGraw Hill, 1971. 295 pp., $6.95), Marriage in Black and White, by Joseph R. Washington, Jr. (Beacon, 1970. 358 pp., $7.50), and For Blacks Only: Black Strategies for Change in America, by Sterling Tucker (Eerdmans, 1971, 211 pp., $4.95), are reviewed by James S. Tinney, who teaches black studies at a high school in Kansas City, Missouri.

Although all these books were written by black Americans, most of whom are churchmen, they have different aims and viewpoints.

The first two books add to the growing literature in black theology. Quest for a Black Theology represents a very wide cross section of churchmen. Twc of them, Preston N. Williams and Joseph A. Johnson, Jr., are co-chairmen of the Theological Commission of the National Committee of Black Churchmen. They rely so heavily on formal statements of their group—as well as on run-of-the-mill exposition of theological liberalism—that one would probably do better to read these committee documents instead. No new insights are put forth.

Somewhat in contrast, in another article in this collection Albert B. Cleage gives a compact summary of his book The Black Messiah; this excellent statement of his “religion of Black Power” contains all the meat of the book, minus its redundancy.

The main contribution of Quest for a Black Theology, however, is the essay by Walter L. Yates, a black professor at Livingstone College in Salisbury, North Carolina. Perhaps because this is his first appearance in book print, he inundates the reader with a wide assortment of facts relating the history of Christianity in Africa to the current Afro-American religious scene. Of particular interest is his explanation for Christianity’s demise in Africa (“the false identification of Christianity with the purpose of empire”) despite early and widespread success.

The second book, Roberts’s Liberation and Reconciliation, tries to offer a “black theology” but degenerates into a tirade against other black theologians, particularly Cleage and Cone, and fails to develop a positive theology of its own. Roberts is, however, the first of the old-line civil-rights generation to attempt to relate to the new scene of blackness, at least among non-evangelical theologians. But he falls back to older, less controversial positions in the end anyway (witness his opposition to both segregation and nationalism, whether imposed or voluntary, and his idolization of King—a figure he is psychologically unable to move beyond).

The third book, Grier and Cobbs’ The Jesus Bag, fall into the category of black psychology, the newest discipline in black studies. It is not as impressive as the same authors’ previous volume, Black Rage. The Jesus Bag is too general and offers no startling conclusions in social psychiatry (both authors are black psychiatrists). A third of its pages are taken up with an unannotated bibliography. Furthermore, the title is deceptive: only one chapter deals with religion per se.

The two final volumes are well worth reading. Washington’s Marriage in Black and White considers black folk religion (it reverses the disdainful view of folk Christianity he expressed in a previous book, Black Religion), black consciousness, and interracial marriage. Washington summons the aid of social scientists, historians, and theologians and also draws upon denominational statements and folklore to give the reader an exhaustive treatment of the subject. Without dismissing reasoned opposition to black-white marriages (“the term ‘intermarriage’ is negatively loaded,” he says), he makes a strong case for such marriages. What he says gives credence to the view of certain other black writers—James Baldwin and Eldridge Cleaver, for example—that white fears of sexual relations between their women and black men is the root cause of racism.

Far and away the best of the quintet is the final volume, For Blacks Only, by Sterling Tucker, executive director of the Washington, D. C., Urban League. Despite its title, it is must reading for whites as well as blacks, for it is the most realistic, practical, and reasoned exposition of the black revolution to date. It is hard to find another book that includes a black approach to the youth movement, women’s liberation, the ecological movement, educational reform, and political objectives. Tucker competently weaves a strategy that involves all these and more. No simplistic answers are offered.

No one else has so aptly defined “responsible militant.” Whites will be relieved at a few of Tucker’s suggestions, but angered by his reasons for them; black revolutionists will like his tentative approval of a programmed violence-of-sorts but will sulk at his appraisal of radical rhetoric and sneer at his suave style. Although it makes no specific mention of religion, this book is probably more Christian than any other social appraisal yet published.

Most of these books touch, at least indirectly, on certain concerns now prominent among both races and of particular interest to the evangelical—the psychological aspects of the black experience, sexual-marital implications, violence, and black theology in the black church.

Grier and Cobbs join the increasing number of professionals who distrust intelligence tests as reliable measurements of young black minds. “The capacity of young black children to learn suffers because they are so occupied with the demands of survival,” say these authors. They also decry the fact that most psychological illnesses of blacks are attributed to poverty rather than to more personal factors. Tucker goes further. “We do not steal because we are poor,” he says, and to accept this kind of non-responsibility for actions “is an erosion of our dignity.”

Both books also see black rage as “appropriate, life-preserving and sustaining,” to use Grier and Cobbs’s words. “It is psychological dishonesty to tell the Negro he should love white people,” Bayard Rustin once said; Tucker explores this idea thoroughly, adding a corollary dimension: “We don’t need to love him and we don’t need to hate him either. He who hates is as dependent on his object as he who loves. What is needed is detachment.”

Interestingly, Tucker also discusses the psychological motivations of many whites who work on the black scene. Not able to identify fully with blacks, they are “more interested in a gratifying emotional and dramatic involvement.” They need to feel the pain of being black as well as the guilt of being white. For this reason, more whites were active in the emotional confrontations of the early civil-rights movement than now. But, he adds, “whites can serve black interests, and in many cases they are psychologically freer to do so than black leaders.”

Roberts fails to “find a healthy reason for interracial marriage,” noting that society rejects both the couple and their children. But Washington counters that black and white marrieds are “healthy people in a sick society.” What he desires is not a loss of racial identity through mass intermarriages but a change in the way society views such unions.

That the other authors of these books and essays pass over the issue of black and white marriages could suggest the importance blacks in general give to the matter. Or perhaps they are simply more interested in goals and problems nearer at hand. But Washington feels that “if we could be honest in regard to marriage in Black and White, the other problems between Blacks and Whites would fall into place.”

What should be the response of blacks to violence, whether subtle or overt, suffered at the hands of whites? Roberts says that non-violence on the part of blacks is not a theological necessity but “may be justified if programmed and measured.” Tucker cannot condone violence; “yet in the end,” he says, “blacks cannot fight according to the rules because they are designed for whites to win.” And Cleage says that “turn the other cheek” applies only to situations within the brotherhood, that is, to blacks dealing with other blacks.

All this mirrors a pacing change in attitudes among black church leaders regarding violence. Even the more moderate Roberts and Tucker have traveled far down the road from non-resistance. Only Grier and Cobbs, who might be expected to approve violence as a legitimate form of “black rage,” speak cautiously regarding force; passivity, they say, is a form of rebellion in itself, with the goal survival.

The status of Jews among these writers bears special mention, since some persons have raised the issue of anti-Semitism among blacks. Certainly, few besides Cleage identify Afro-Americans as Jews. But Grier and Cobbs are definitely pro-Jewish. They accuse all (including some blacks) who oppose a contemporary black-Jew coalition of having the same motives as “Wallaceites.” Only Washington castigates the Jews (they especially are opposed to inter-marriages of all kinds); yet even he admits that Jews are involved in a large proportion of black-white marriages.

Roberts rejects Cleage as a Christian theologian and asserts that whites “should not repent for worshipping Christ in their own image.” Yates also disagrees with Cleage’s practice of using the Old Testament as a basis for black theology: it “gave the New England settlers the concepts of their being the chosen people … the God of warfare … and sanction for seizing land from the Indians to make room for the New Israel.”

All in all, these authors make a heavy case for uniting the Church and the black revolution, while admitting that theology may need to be restructured in the process. In most cases, however, it is their own previous theologies that are up for remodeling.

From A Lacerated Heart

Jesus and Israel, by Jules Isaac (Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1971, 405 pp., $12.50), is reviewed by Edwin M. Yamauchi, associate professor of history, Miami University, Oxford, Ohio.

First published in 1948, Jesus and Israel is a passionate and moving plea for “the necessary correction of Christian teaching on the Jews.” Jules Isaac, an eminent French historian, began this book in 1943 while hiding from the Germans. As he was writing it his wife and daughter were killed by the Nazis, “killed simply because their name was Isaac.” As the author himself describes his book, “it is the cry of an outraged conscience, of a lacerated heart.” Passionate though it may be, the work is entirely free of rancor.

In dealing with the New Testament texts that have been used to damn the Jews as deicides, Isaac proposes no hypotheses about what the texts should have said but argues with cogency for the explicit recognition of the Jewish background of Jesus and the early discples—especially in the teaching of children. (Until its revision in 1967, a Catholic catechism that has been used in France since 1939 nowhere stated explicitly that Jesus and his disciples were Jews.)

As Isaac points out, the word Jews occurs only half a dozen times in each of the Synoptic Gospels, but seventy-one times in John. Since in John the term is often used of Jesus’ enemies, without any further qualification, readers are in danger of generalizing the notion that all “the Jews” were opposed to Jesus. Isaac argues that even the total acceptance of the New Testament tradition as it stands “does not give anyone the right to conclude that Israel is guilty of the crime, that the Jewish people are fully responsible for it, nor to state it on every occasion to the Christian people, nor to teach it to children in the catechism.”

Isaac originally drew upon French Catholic sources for most of his examples of offensive generalizations in which “the Jews” are presented as the murderers of Christ. This new English translation includes a few examples of defamatory statements about the Jews taken from American publications.

Isaac’s book made a great impact upon European Catholics. Until 1959 the Catholic liturgy contained a prayer, “Let us also pray for the perfidious Jews.” In 1965 the Vatican Council belatedly declared:. “Jewish authorities and those who followed their lead pressed for the death of Christ; still, what happened in His Passion cannot be charged against all the Jews, without distinction, then alive, nor against the Jews of today.”

At the end of the book Isaac lists eighteen practical suggestions for how Christians can guard against teaching the New Testament in such a way that they unwittingly foster anti-Semitism. This is a book that should have been translated into English earlier. Now that it is available it should be read by pastors, by Christian teachers, and especially by those who write Sunday-school materials.

Newly Published

Conflict and Conscience, by Mark O. Hatfield (Word, 172 pp., $4.95). Collection of speeches and writings of an evangelical whose vocation requires him constantly to relate his faith to the social issues of our time.

The Puritan Hope: A Study in Renewal and the Interpretation of Prophecy, by Jain H. Murray (Puritan, 301 pp., $4.50). A significant study of the eschatology of those Puritans who expected many revivals before Christ came to usher in the eternal state. Includes the biblical bases and practical results of this view, with laments on its eclipse.

Does the Bible Really Work?, by David A. Hubbard (Word, 75 pp., $2.95). Excellent radio messages on such topics as the purpose, inspiration, authority, and power of the Bible.

Death and Rebirth of a Marriage, by Alan and Margaret Havard (Tyndale, 1970, 102 pp., paperback, $1.45). A husband and wife tell their versions of the break-up and final reconciliation of their marriage, and how their lives and marriage have been changed by Christ.

The Thessalonian Epistles, by D. Edmond Hiebert (Moody, 383 pp., $6.95). A major commentary similar to Moody’s recent ones on Daniel and on Revelation (by John Walvoord) and on Ezekiel (by Charles Feinberg).

The Christian and Social Concern, by Clifford V. Anderson (Harvest, 166 pp., paperback, $1.95). A Bethel Seminary professor writes on war, poverty, race, politics, and sex. A good introduction.

Will Man Survive? Prophecy You Can Understand, by J. Dwight Pentecost (Moody, 208 pp., $4.95). Survey of God’s future program by a Dallas Seminary professor. He wisely says: “We have a responsibility to live today as though the Lord might come before we go to bed, but to plan for tomorrow as though He couldn’t come for a hundred years.”

In Bluebeard’s Castle, by George Steiner (Yale, 141 pp., $5.95). Western man, says the author, is driven like Bluebeard’s wife to unlock all doors in search of truth—and stands on the brink of cultural disaster.

The Family That Makes It, by Ken Anderson et al. (Victor, 192 pp., paperback, $1.25). Good advice from some evangelical experts in the field.

The New Testament Logia on Divorce: A Study of their Interpretation from Erasmus to Milton, by V. Norskov Olsen (Tübingen, Germany: J. C. B. Mohr, 161 pp., DM 36, cloth, DM 30, paperback). An important contribution by an Adventist theologian. Demonstrates, among other things, how difficult it is to be truly objective in interpreting the Bible.

The Stirring Giant, edited by Bob E. Patterson (Word, 312 pp., $7.95). Brief excerpts arranged topically from about 100 books and a score of periodical articles appearing over the past two decades dealing with the vague but important concept of “church renewal.” Excellent as an overview and as a stimulus for further reading and action.

The Heart of the Yale Lectures, by Batsell Barrett Baxter (Baker, 332 pp., $3.95). Summary, with many quotations, of what the famous Lyman Beecher lectures at Yale from 1871 to 1944 had to say on the techniques of preaching. First published in 1947.

Breath of Life, by Patricia St. John (Norfolk Press, London, 238 pp., $4). A thrilling narrative of fifty years of church growth among Anglicans in Burundi, Rwanda, and southwest Uganda.

Form Criticism of the Old Testament, by Gene M. Tucker and Literary Criticism of the Old Testament, by Norman Habel (Fortress, paperbacks, 84 pp. and $2.50 each). Introductory textbooks to some currently dominant methods of academic Bible study.

A Creative Minority: The Church in a New Age, by Richard E. Koenig (Augsburg, 123 pp., paperback, $2.50). An introduction to the need for renewal by one who, if not strictly evangelical, is at least sympathetic.

The One and the Many, by Rousas John Rushdoony (Craig, 388 pp., $6.50). A historical study of philosophical speculation on the relation of the group and the individual since earliest times. Presents Cornelius Van Til’s view as the correct one.

Soul of the Black Preacher, by Joseph A. Johnson, Jr. (United Church, 173 pp., $4.95). Uninspiring, uncontroversial sermons from the presiding bishop of the Christian Methodist Episcopal Church.

Single and Satisfied, by Audrey Lee (Tyndale, 136 pp., paperback, $1.45). An informative book written by a single missionary. She gives insight into missionary life and the problems most single women face on the field. Her answers to these problems could be of benefit to any woman, regardless of marital status.

Sin, by G. C. Berkouwer (Eerdmans, 599 pp., $9.95). The long-awaited English edition of the eleventh volume in the planned eighteen-volume “Studies in Dogmatics.” The author is perhaps the foremost contemporary evangelical theologian.

God … Where Are You? by Mickie Rogers and Marjie Thompson (Regal, 109 pp., $2.95). What began as “God commercials” on FM radio station KBIQ grew into a full-time ministry, the “People Who Care” telephone ministry, a challenging, unusual service for people who need God.

The Dispersion of the People of God: The Covenant Basis of Matthew 28:18–20 Against the Background of Jewish, Pre-Christian Proselyting and Diaspora, and the Apostleship of Jesus Christ, by Richard R. De Ridder (Baker, 239 pp., paperback, $4.95). An important technical study in the theology of missions.

This Morning With God, three volumes, edited by Carol Adeney (Inter Varsity, 120 pp., paperback, $1.50 each). Daily Bible-study guide including thought-provoking questions that stimulate the reader to learn the Bible on his own and relate biblical events to similar present-day situations.

Theory of Catechetics, by Hubert Halbfas (Herder and Herder, 211 pp., $6.95). A tillichian approach to religious education.

Faith Seeks Understanding: A Christian Approach to Knowledge, by Arthur F. Holmes (Eerdmans, 175 pp., paperback, $2.95). A solid discussion of the nature of metaphysical thinking and religious commitment by a noted evangelical philosopher.

Knox Church Toronto, by William Fitch (William Fitch, 190 pp. $5.95). The story of a 150-year-old evangelical congregation set in the context of Canadian history.

The Right, the Good, and the Happy, by Bernard L. Ramm (Word, 188 pp., $5.95). An introductory guide to Christian ethics. Discusses both general principles and specific applications to abortion, business, drugs, organ transplants, war, and a dozen other matters.

A History of Spurgeon’s Tabernacle, by Eric W. Hayden (Pilgrim, 163 pp., $3.95). A former pastor tells the story to the present of the congregation once served by Spurgeon.

Church Leader in the Cities: William Augustus Muhlenberg, by Alvin W. Skardon (Pennsylvania, 343 pp., $15). First-class biography of a leading nineteenth-century Episcopal clergyman of Philadelphia and New York.

Revolution and the Christian Faith, by Vernon C. Grounds (Lippincott, 240 pp., $4.95). An important book by the president of Conservative Baptist Seminary in Denver. Interacts with the arguments of those advocating revolutionary social change. Calls for a true Christian radicalism that is shaped by the New Testament.

History and Christianity, by John Warwick Montgomery (Inter Varsity, 110 pp., paperback, $1.25). A good apologetic for the historical reliability of the Gospels, especially regarding their testimony to Christ.

The Cross and the Scalpel, by James Hefley (Word, 158 pp., $4.95). An interesting survey of several medical missionaries from different lands.

I Was an Algerian Preacher, by W. N. Heggoy (Vantage, 92 pp., $3.50). Tells of the proclamation of the Gospel in our times in one of the hardest of lands; it focuses on a national, Said Abouadaou.

Christ the Hope of the Future, by Warren F. Groff (Eerdmans, 145 pp., paperback, $2.45). A rather complex interaction with recent speculative theology. Limited in interest.

Isaiah and Wisdom, by J. William Whedbee (Abingdon, 172 pp., $5.95). A doctoral dissertation on the complex relation of Isaiah, a representative prophet, to the wisdom tradition. Revises earlier scholarly judgments.

Imputed Rights, by Robert V. Andelson (Georgia, 153 pp., $6). A conservative approach to the ground and nature of human rights by a philosophy professor.

God’s Lively People, by Mark Gibbs and T. Ralph Morton (Westminster, 212 pp., paperback, $2.65). The authors of God’s Frozen People have become more optimistic about the future of the Church and theology; now laymen are more lively.

Your Fig Leaf Is Slipping!, by Paul H. Shetz (Creation, 200 pp., $4.95). Everyone has something to hide in this age of phoniness. Through 200 tedious pages the author tries to uncover what people spend so much time trying to hide.

God’s Plan, Man’s Need, Our Mission, by G. Christian Weiss (Back to the Bible, 172 pp., paperback, $.75), and The Divine Intent, by Homer Duncan (Missionary Crusader, 105 pp., paperback). Designed to stir up interest in missions.

ELECTRIC WELTSCHMERZ

I recently attended a rock music concert. I state this fact with no claim of extenuating circumstance, throwing myself completely on the mercy of my readers.

Since I’m a little old for this sort of thing, I attempted to be as inconspicuous as possible by dressing casually and youthfully. I forsook the dull blues and olive drab of my ordinary garb and wore a brightly striped pair of orange and black flares with a vivid green sport shirt.

At the concert pavilion I walked confidently down the aisle only to discover that I was about as inconspicuous as Liberace at an Amish service. There I was in my casual, youthful attire, awash in a sea of faded blue denim and army surplus olive drab.

The generation gap is wider than I thought.

However, I was undaunted by my sartorial incongruity. I bravely led our party of four to the grass area for which we had tickets. (My ambivalence over the whole adventure caused me to buy the cheaper lawn seats.) We spread our blankets, broke out the picnic dinner, and waited for the high-decibel assault to come, oblivious of the bemused smiles on the faces of our neighboring picnickers.

Waiving for the moment such annoyances as pot smoking and the overabundant use of copulative verbs on the part of the audience, it was an interesting and not altogether unpleasant evening.

Rock lyricists originally erred in an unseemly emphasis on drugs and erotic love. Now they have compounded their felony by seizing on such troublesome matters as loneliness, hate, war, death, politics, poverty, pollution, and the meaning of life.

It’s certainly a depressing turn of events for those of us over forty. Where, we ask, are those simple songs of yesteryear, songs that explored such vital questions as:

Does the Spearmint lose its flavor

On the bedpost overnight?

If you paste it on the left side

Will you find it on the right?

What happened to songs that probed such deep problems of personal involvement as:

Who takes care of the caretaker’s daughter

While the caretaker’s busy taking care?

And where are songs that set forth such profound cosmological insights as:

When you order ham and eggs

By the time that they appear

‘Twill be nighttime in Italy

And Wednesday over here.

Professor Whitehead couldn’t have said it any better.

Let’s face it, they just don’t write songs like that anymore. Other concerns now obsess the young generation. You can listen to their music and tell what’s on their minds.

Just listen … please.

BETTING TOGETHER

Eutychus, man, your comments about our need for high-level, two-year Christian junior colleges—and the reasons for same—are right on (“Pay Your Money and Take Your Choice,” Aug. 6)! There are at least a couple: Trinity (Christian Reformed) in Chicago, and Trinity (Evangelical Free) in British Columbia. But I still won’t take your “bet.” For I’m as convinced as you are that we won’t repeat this on any significant scale. In fact, I expect we’ll go right on doing the traditional things, building additional four-year colleges—even though a lot of people might agree that your idea makes a lot of sense.

You know, Eutychus, we could take a further step. We could swallow our pride and admit that the Mormons have the real answer for the seventies. Then we could rent or build our “institutes of religion” adjacent to state university campuses. One full-time academic dean could coordinate a faculty of moonlighting (or volunteer) evangelical professors from across the street. Curriculum? Some Bible/theology content; but mostly seminars integrating the various disciplines into a Christian world and life view—designed for Christian students, but open to the honest seeker, too.

On the non-suitcase campuses, we could even retain in loco parentis, if we must, be renting a couple of apartment buildings. Hire a dean of students and a couple of assistants. With or without “dorms,” capital investment and budget would be peanuts, relatively speaking. And we could serve a lot more of our young adults.

I understand there are already a few such institutions. We could use hundreds to supplement our existing four-year colleges—maybe sponsored by these experienced schools as extension departments. But like you, Eutychus, I’ll “bet you five dollars” we won’t do it.

President

Missionary Aviation Fellowship Fullerton, Calif.

A PARROT’S WIDESPREAD WINGS

The editorial entitled “The Orange Enigma” (Aug. 6) prompted me to reply because of its biased, uninformed statements. Undoubtedly, there have been instances and there will be instances of discrimination in jobs, housing, and in local government; but this is not a general widespread practice, which you infer. I come from a long line of Ulstermen; and to allude that the Orange Order is made up of brainwashed bigots is truly showing that your investigations, if any, have been very shallow.

Please take the time to correspond with the publication “Ulster Commentary,” Belfast, Ireland; and I’m sure they can set forth the true facts on the alleged discriminatory practices you so freely parrot.

Winder, Ga.

The editor gives the impression that all the woes and troubles lie at the door of the Orange Order. I take exception to this. During my visit to Ireland last year (1970) it was my privilege to address approximately 10,000 Orangemen on the 12th of July. Nowhere would you find a finer body of men. The 12th of July means as much to them, and the Ulster people in general, as the 4th of July means to us Americans. It is part of their heritage. To quote Prof. B. K. Kuiper in his book “The Church in History” (page 320), “The Battle of the Boyne saved Holland, England and America for Protestantism.” It is true that many orangemen do not live by the great biblical principles on which the order is founded. Neither do church members. There are hypocrites in the church, and always will be, yet you do not condemn the whole church of Jesus Christ.… All this, however, is beside the point. The basic issue today is not religion, although originally it may have had its roots in religion. It is more political. Until the year of 1969, the people of Northern Ireland, Protestant and Roman Catholic (with few exceptions), were prosperous, peaceful, and law abiding citizens, whose only desire was to extend the hand of friendship to their neighbours in the Republic.

Rochester, N.J.

Like the report of the death of Mark Twain, the account of Northern Ireland affairs in your editorial is “grossly exaggerated.” It must seem strange to American ears that the Northern Ireland Government, which pays 100 per cent of the salaries of the separate Roman Catholic schools, should be accused of “shameful subjugation of a minority.”

A recent report of the Commissioner of Complaints covering [such areas as] housing and employment states that while he found maladministration in only 5 per cent of the cases investigated, there was no evidence to confirm discrimination by local authorities or public bodies.

Coming to some of the other allegations in the editorial:

1. It is not true to say “no Ulster Unionist member of Parliament can be elected without Orange Order sanction.”

2. Few people in Ulster or elsewhere have ever seen a “drum-beating procession” on the Twelfth July celebrations. As in the St. Patrick’s Day processions in New York or elsewhere, the only drums in evidence are, like the majorettes, part of the bands in the procession.

The reference to the victory of William over the Catholic James at the battle of the Boyne suggests a very superficial view of history. Even if many Orangemen and more of your readers do not know it, the Dutch William supplanted James with the approval of Pope Innocent XI to limit the power of Louis XIV. When he fought the battle of the Boyne, James still regarded himself as king of England—he had fled from England but did not abdicate—and his main forces at the battle were French, along with support from the Irish.

Belfast, Ireland

I was surprised and disturbed by “The Orange Enigma.” Surprised because so many of the true facts have apparently been ignored, and disturbed because a magazine of the standing of CHRISTIANITY TODAY is being used to spread propaganda started by those whose hands are red with the blood they have shed in an attempt to wipe out religious freedom in Northern Ireland.

One fact often overlooked is that the fighting is confined to the Belfast and Londonderry areas. Word I have received from Ulster is that about 95 per cent of the Protestants and Roman Catholics in Ulster are living together peaceably. The trouble was not started by the Protestants, but by agitators who wish to take over Ulster, chief of whom are the I.R.A.…

While it is true that there are some Protestant extremists, such as Ian Paisley, whom you falsely called a fellow traveller of the Orange Order, probably 99 per cent of the extremists are on the other side. From behind their barricades they made raids on the Protestant areas where they fire-bombed Protestant places of business, and murdered people, then retreated behind their barricades where they were protected from the Protestants.

(Lic) ARNOLD J. SLANEY

Meductic

New Brunswick, Canada

OF LIGHTS AND LIONS

Both revival and Robert E. Coleman’s “The Coming World Revival?” (July 16) are needed today; too many professing Christians … have loins burning and lights girded!

Heart of America Bible Society

Kansas City, Mo.

There is just one change I would make in Robert E. Coleman’s excellent article and that would be to change the question mark to an exclamation point.…

Christianity Today has done a commendable job of reporting (and encouraging) the many revival movements of our times, both here in the USA and elsewhere in the world. The secular press has also noted—often, surprisingly, with approval—the amazing vitality among Christians, both inside and outside the traditional churches. These movements are harbingers of a great world revival.

“Coming events cast their shadow before,” says the adage. It is significant that Christians are discussing a great coming revival. Prior to the Protestant Reformation the Church was alive with talk of reform. The yearning for reform became very vivid and concrete in the mighty pre-Reformation revival in Florence under Savonarola. Savonarola was put to death but within a generation the Reformation began.

We are now living in the shadow of the great coming world revival. The hope in the hearts of so many of God’s people is not simply wishful thinking. It is itself a sign and a promise.

Central Baptist Church

West Franklin, N.H.

I wish to express my appreciation for “The Coming World Revival?” So often in articles written regarding the second coming of Christ the writer presents his own interpretation of the chronological order of events. Mr. Coleman records several possible meanings when it is not clearly stated. In view of the times we are living in, I do hope we may have more articles on this glorious truth that He is coming again and perhaps soon.

Houston, Tex.

SOME KEY POINTS

In reply to Mr. Sandstroem (Aug. 27), the translation of Bede’s work (from the Latin, obviously) by Alfred or someone he commissioned is so familiar a classic of Old English that it has almost primary status. Most studies of English style refer to it. But Bede has also been often translated into later forms of English, including modern. To distinguish the original Old English of Alfred’s time from the other versions (within the context of stylistic features, of course) I referred to precisely what I had in mind—the original Old English version as distinct from later translations. The “original Latin” was in no way germane to my topic. I was not discussing Latin style but English style, and the original Old English version was the subject of my paragraph. (I rather assumed, I am afraid, that readers would be quite aware that Bede wrote in Latin. All monkish writers did in his day.) … Mr. Sandstroem’s point that Middle English “works written more than 200 years apart” are not to be considered in the same “age” for purposes of treating broad stylistic developments is, I am afraid, uninformed. Of course there are many dialects and many styles in that long period known as the “Middle Ages,” as there are in that equally long (or longer, according to what theory you follow) period called the “Renaissance.” But it is possible (and in a brief article about very broad developments, it is essential) to summarize key points. And, of course, styles actually changed slowly in the Middle Ages. Manuscripts were few and far between; few were literate; and until the late fifteenth century, and printing, very few writers were concerned with such things as style.

Dean Professor of English Literature

The George Washington University

Washington, D. C.

COSMIC SEARCH

Re your article, “Therapist and Theologian Look at Love” (Aug. 6), I am reminded of the increasing vagueness of word meanings in our culture. Specifically, the author refers to “a cosmic environment of love,” at the close of his article. If such a thing is the solution to the problems discussed in the article, I would like to know what it is and how I can go about finding it.

Hightstown, N.J.

ONLY A CLICHE?

I wish to reply to the news story, “Box Office Religion” (Aug. 27). I disagree with Miss Forbes’s affirmation of current Broadway musicals, particularly one Godspell, and her contention that they are viable means for evangelism.

Miss Forbes says Tebelak, the author of Godspell, is laboring under the compulsion to “answer despair” and thus wrote Godspell. Recently, when interviewed on the Today program in between numbers performed by the cast of Godspell, Tebelak did not seem concerned about despair. He admitted no belief in the doctrines of Christianity but, rather, had been a student of myths at school and realized there was potential in the Jesus myth in the song-and-dance field. After hearing this self-revealed unbelief and seeing the result of that unbelief very evident in the mock-gospel he had created, I was very dismayed to read the article by Miss Forbes praising Godspell as “evangelistic”.…

[She] says that at least Godspell is “fun” and “entertaining.” If that’s what it is, we know for sure that it can’t be a vehicle for “evangelism” as claimed, because we all know that evangelism is not fun and entertaining because it has to do with seeking lost souls. And it is telling lost souls about Christ which is meant to bring salvation to man and glory to God. And we never speak about these subjects as being “fun” and “entertaining.” I hope Miss Forbes and those who praise today’s mock-gospels will follow logic and reject the conclusion that Godspell is “one of the best ways to reach today’s kids with the Gospel and to open them up to the claims of Jesus Christ.” It seems this latter assertion is one of those cliches one hears in evangelical circles on occasion which is attached to unusual things not making any logical sense at all. I think the instance at hand is one of those occasions.

St. Paul, Minn.

A UNIQUE PERIODICAL

For seventeen years I have been a steady reader, supporter, and promoter of CHRISTIANITY TODAY because of its uniqueness in truth and accuracy, whether it be biblical or historical. It has enriched my ministry. I often quote from it and recommend it.

Senior Chaplain

Glendale Adventist Hospital

Glendale, Calif.

FEARLESS EXPLOITATION

St. Paul a moderate on the subject of women (“St. Paul and the Liberated Woman,” Aug. 6)? On Mr. Miller’s scale Paul is indeed a moderate, but so what?

We are still left with Paul’s statements which rank woman as second-class citizen. Even if he regarded women as liberated in Jesus Christ, Paul would have regarded a woman who spoke out or taught in the Church as a disobedient sister. For Paul a liberated woman was one who was obedient to Christ and man.

In Miller’s article we can chalk up another victory for the platitudes of male chauvinism, and the churchmen who Miller classifies as “right wing” can continue to enunciate Paul’s dictums as they exploit women without fear. Miller might well have spent some time discussing the Church as exploiter of women. It has always been interesting to me that those who are anxious to cite Paul’s views on women forget all about them when it is time to find that new teacher for the primary department.

Incidentally, I always thought of myself as a moderate on this subject, but now you can classify me as a “right-of-center radical.”

Cucamonga, Calif.

THE SOUL OF COMMERCE

Your interesting panel discussion on “Evangelism: How to Get Involved” (Aug. 27) has at least two points which should receive criticism.

One: we dare not “celebrate” in public worship what we have done during the week. Instead, Christian worship celebrates what God has done for us in Christ to forgive the past week (since our best accomplishments are still “filthy rags”) and to strengthen and guide us for the coming week of service to him.

Two: I can’t possibly imagine St. Paul agreeing with the idea that we dare not try to be with people for the sake of winning them to Christ. True, we must show Christian love to all, regardless of their response. But why did Paul go on his missionary journeys except to win people to Christ? Why does any missionary go? Why does Jesus command us to go? And why does he even command his people to “shake the dust off’ regarding those who rejected their evangelistic mission. You may label this a “commercial spirit,” but apparently he knows how best to serve him.

St. John Lutheran Church

Oakes, N. D.

Young people of today who want so desperately to change the Church and the world will soon get the chance. It is not a matter of revolution but of time. The present generation will retire and die off, and the youth currently chafing at the establishment will become the new establishment. For Christian young people this inevitably suggests tremendous prospects. They alone hold the lasting answer to the ills of society. But will they be prepared to make their mark? They are answering that question right now as they choose careers.

Intelligent young believers know it is not enough to hope and pray and sing and contribute money for the advancement of God’s kingdom. They realize that there are key vocations for wielding Christian influence. The wise young evangelical will choose his career with the utmost care, seeking to be especially sensitive to the leading of God’s Spirit, and realizing that the Spirit often speaks through circumstances. There is reason to think that young people today may be more sensitive to the Christian dimensions in all vocations.

Several years ago a young bus driver became a Christian and felt increasingly impelled to enter the ministry. He went to his pastor for counsel and was told to forget his idea and stick to bus driving. He made the approach repeatedly with the same result. Finally he went again to the pastor and exclaimed, “Look, God has called me to preach. I’ve got to preach.” Whereupon the wise old pastor replied, “That’s what I’ve been waiting to hear you say. Now you’re ready to apply for training.” The bus driver eventually became pastor of that very church, and it thrived as never before under his ministry.

For many people, God’s call is not that apparent or compelling. Occasionally the Spirit leads to a career choice at an early age and there is never any wavering. For most of us, however, the decision is neither quick nor easy. God’s call comes not in one loud shout but in a long series of barely discernible whispers. We pray for guidance and he makes us work for the answer. Such work today can take the form of pre-vocational involvement wherein the student tries out various fields in part-time work (Christian employers do well to provide such opportunities).

Even very devout young people may undergo vacillation and long periods of uncertainty. A few young Christians may fall into the “perennial student” class because of laziness, indecision, and procrastination; their own consciences tell them that. But they are not to be confused with willing young people who simply are having a hard time discerning the divine nudge.

Pastors, elders, Sunday-school teachers, and other mature Christians should go out of their way to offer to talk with young people about vocation, but they should not be dogmatic. Evangelicals have yet to develop a substantial theology of vocation appropriate to our day, and good literature on the subject is lean. The best introduction is “The Christian View Of Work,” a chapter in Carl F. H. Henry’s Aspects Of Christian Social Ethics. Christian vocational counselors may have to settle for merely helping to bring the widest possible picture into view. They certainly should stop short of making specific recommendations on a line of work.

The basic decision that has faced believing young people has been whether to opt for “full-time Christian service” or “secular” work. This dichotomy apparently originated with pietists who after the Reformation drifted back to the traditional Roman Catholic distinction between secular and sacred vocations. But more and more the trend is away from such sharp separation, partly out of theological reasons, partly because there is greater specialization of tasks, even in church-related vocations, and partly because of the increasing recognition that every occupation should have a biblical dimension. It used to be, for example, that Bible-school graduates were recruited for “general missionary work.” Today they go instead as doctors, linguists, teachers, pilots, radio technicians—yet as evangelists as well. Christians now see more clearly that the layman is also a minister. He cannot discharge his biblical responsibility merely by contributing to the salaries of underpaid “professional Christians.”

The Christian young person is well advised to decide first the kind of work he is going to do and then determine whether he will work in an outwardly religious or secular context. The second decision will hinge not as much on the job itself as on whether God wants to use him in a congenial or hostile environment. Some Christians simply feel better suited for working in a church or evangelical organization than for a job in a worldly setting. Others, strangely enough, seem to get along better with unbelievers than with other Christians. A few actually tend to lose out spiritually unless their environment continually puts them on the defensive.

This brings up the matter of how seriously to regard tastes, talents, and aptitudes in choosing a career. Obviously, these things should all figure in the decision. They should not, however, be allowed to weigh too heavily against the factor of current needs and opportunities, which could conceivably be more important. Under some circumstances one might actually serve God better in a crucial vocation in which he was mediocre by the world’s standards than in a less strategic profession in which he might excel. Moreover, tastes, talents, and aptitudes are often more acquired than inborn and can be developed and altered through education of one kind or another.

This is an acute point today because we are in the midst of a philosophy that argues for self-fulfillment, for doing your own thing, for blooming where you are planted. To be sure, God bestows special gifts that wait to be discovered and used. But there is also such a thing as bowing too low before the altar of ability. Even in the Bible, God’s will for a lifetime does not always correspond to conspicuous traits (remember Aaron, for example).

There is truth in the assertion that one can let his light shine anywhere. But this should not be pressed to the extreme view that it doesn’t matter to the cause of the Gospel what a Christian does for his livelihood. We are not to demean any legitimate and needed vocations, but there are obvious priorities that vary according to time and place. After all, Paul left his tents or leather work or whatever it was he did to become a missionary. Jesus’ disciples left their fishing nets to follow him. Jesus himself left the carpenter’s shop.

The point is that talent is not the ultimate indication of what the Lord wants us to do. Nothing in Scripture tells us we must exploit some particular mental or physical capacity throughout our lifetime because we have been assigned an extraordinary measure of it. “I gotta be me regardless of all others and all else” is the attitude that has produced our environmental crisis. One may have a knack for digging holes, but only so many holes need to be dug. In the Christian realm personal fulfillment may need to yield to pooling and coordination of resources. Today’s needs, moreover, must be examined carefully; emotional appeals and ulterior motives must be screened out. As one Christian counselor has put it, “We need always to be wary of people attracted by superficial fervor to some field for which they seem to lack aptitude and temperament. This calls for serious caution and intensive, prayerful investigation of the humidity level of our fleeces.”

A modern version of an old illustration may help to understand how needs or circumstances may speak of God’s will: a pilot in his final approach for a landing at night maneuvers his plane until the runway lights are perfectly in line and appear as one. So in life, when the factors in a situation jibe, we can be confident of our direction. The only problem is in deciding which are the “lights” that need to be lined up.

By all means, we should bloom where we are planted. But those who still have the option of a site should think carefully before planting themselves. Transplanting is often possible and should be attempted if a bad initial choice becomes apparent; but it can be difficult, and it always sets one back in time. “Trying out” a vocation in summer and weekend work is a wise move.

The Scripture passage perhaps most directly relevant to life work is First Corinthians 7:17–24, which places the emphasis neither in gifts nor on circumstances but on calling. This is the way the Revised Standard Version has it:

… Let every one lead the life which the Lord has assigned to him, and in which God has called him. This is my rule in all the churches. (18) Was any one at the time of his call already circumcised? Let him not seek to remove the marks of circumcision. Was any one at the time of his call uncircumcised? Let him not seek circumcision. (19) For neither circumcision counts for anything nor uncircumcision, but keeping the commandments of God. (20) Every one should remain in the state in which he was called. (21) Were you a slave when called? Never mind. But if you can gain your freedom, avail yourself of the opportunity. (22) For he who was called in the Lord as a slave is a freedman of the Lord. Likewise he who was free when called is a slave of Christ. (23) You were bought with a price; do not become slaves of men. (24) So, brethren, in whatever state each was called, there let him remain with God.

On the basis of this passage, Luther expounded his great doctrine of the priesthood of all believers, that the divine calling was not limited to the clergy. He saw every vocation as an avenue of divine service. This is a tremendous truth, but Luther may have gotten a bit carried away with it. To say that a believer can serve God in any vocation is one thing; to go on to say that it does not matter what vocation he chooses is something else. Luther himself must have known this; without the training and position he had, he would not have been able to bring off the Reformation. Yet in a 1533 sermon he discouraged people from striving for influential office because “sitting on top is no fun.… It entails so much labor and displeasure that he who is sensible will make no great attempt to attain the position.”

It is foolish to say that one can advance the cause of Christ as much in one vocation as in another. Surely Luther did not mean that. True, one can serve God in any capacity, and in his sovereign plan everyone has a niche to fill. But we cannot go on to assert that all careers are equally crucial in the advancement of God’s kingdom. Even wicked kings sometimes served God’s purposes, but none of us ought to aspire to be a wicked king.

Calvin built upon Luther, urging Christians to take a more dynamic view of their vocations. As Henry J. Ryskamp has put it: “Luther was content with the idea that men should not neglect to serve God in their vocations,” whereas Calvin “exhorted his readers and followers to serve God through their vocations.” Today we still face the challenge of carrying out Calvin’s point. We have the task not merely of doing secular jobs well and honestly but of finding divine purpose and biblical dimensions in them (see also the editorial on page 20 of the June 18 issue). Too many Christians are working below capacity; they merely echo secular patterns and attitudes that were developed from views alien to or at odds with Christianity.

There is enough ambiguity about the passage in First Corinthians seven (especially verse 21, which is rendered in contradictory ways even in modern translations) that one ought not to try to build an airtight doctrine on it alone. Liberal scholars tend to dismiss Paul’s remarks here as just another manifestation of his fatalism, his supposed feeling that the world was soon going to end, so Christians might as well stick with what they were doing. But most evangelical New Testament scholars feel Paul is urging Christians to stay in the jobs they were doing before they became Christians. Perhaps he is implying that by staying there they become the salt of the earth, permeating society for the sake of God’s righteousness. Indeed, Paul may be saying only that one ought not to break previous commitments and obligations in order to take up a new vocation after conversion. All we can say for certain about verse 21 is that it is at least implying that slaves are not expected to flee from their bondage upon becoming Christian.

Another general consideration in career decision-making is how high one should aim. Is it better to aim low and thus make “success” more attainable? Or should a Christian err on the side of aiming too high? As with many other questions relating to career, the specific answer must lie with Spirit-enlightened consciences. Lest this outlook be thought too subjective, let it be remembered that the New Testament repeatedly views conscience as a legitimate test and verification vehicle for the Christian.

This much can be said: Low aims are not necessarily the result of modesty, humility, or meekness. They may be caused by insecurity or pure laziness. Both aiming too low and aiming too high can also result from emotional problems or physical illness which obviously should be cared for—or at least taken into account before a career commitment is made.

Jewish people are known for aiming high, and therein may lie a lesson for Gentiles, for it is likely that Jews have a greater proportional influence on the world than any other ethnic grouping. More than three-fourths of all Jewish high-school students plan to go to college, according to Ernest Van Den Haag in The Jewish Mystique. In the elite schools, he reports, Jews as a proportion of the population are over-represented by 365 per cent. Their earnings afterward indicate, moreover, that they are far more successful. The author contends that it is not merely minority status that gives Jews extra motivation, as some philosophers and sociologists have suggested. Many evangelicals would say the Jews are what they are because they are still God’s chosen people. Whatever the reason, their sense of work and opportunity is sharper than that of any other peoples. It is an attitude that Christians desperately need to emulate.

Women, sometimes (disparagingly) referred to as a “minority group,” find themselves in the opposite situation. Their present status tends to discourage them from careers, as women’s lib never tires of pointing out. Young women in high school and college have a much more difficult time planning for the future than men. They must allow for discrimination and, even more significant, for considerable flexibility. They do not know whom—or whether—they will marry. They have precious little on which to base plans. Will the career a girl chooses be compatible with that of her future husband? If not, will her training and talents be wasted?

In finding her answers to these questions the young Christian woman can only rely upon a Spirit-enlightened conscience. It is extremely regrettable that society looks strangely at unmarried women in religious vocations, such as those who become missionaries and nuns. As in all occupations, some choose this route for the wrong reasons, but by and large these women are among the most dedicated people in the world. Paul’s clear though often misunderstood teaching was that both men and women ought to be willing to give up marriage in order to serve God better.

Most women, naturally, prefer to marry, and an increasing number want to combine a career with homemaking. However, there is still a great divergence of opinion among evangelicals about the wisdom of many such blends. In the May 7 issue of Christianity Today Mary Bouma aptly pleaded that mothers avoid thinking that worthwhile Christian careers are possible only outside the home. She pointed out that spiritually meaningful careers are not only possible but perhaps even more likely if the home is used as a base. In many ways the Christian woman, whether inside the home or out, can exert an influence for God that the male cannot approach.

Interestingly, two key vocational areas in which women often excel are also those in which Christian evangelism today can be most effective: communications and the care of others. Women are generally acknowledged to be particularly proficient in such professions as teaching, acting, writing, music, advertising, publicity and public relations, counseling, and perhaps even law. The same is true in fields where deeds count more than words, such as medicine and social work. And in coming years, Christian women as well as men will undoubtedly find in work related to ecology wide-opening doors of witness to their faith.

Every Christian young person should consider these two broad career categories—communications and service to others—for it will probably be on these that the Church will rely most heavily for its advance during the rest of the twentieth century. Remember that pastors and missionaries fall under these, and good people are needed in both fields more desperately than ever. Unfortunately, Christian professional education is not gearing up to meet the present challenge. There is not a single graduate school of communications or social work with an evangelically oriented curriculum. There has simply not been the demand for such training. And there never will be, unless evangelicals begin to sense more keenly their evangelistic responsibilities and get the vision of capturing a culture for Christ through the media and through the demonstration of concern for the welfare of others.

The singling out of these two areas is not arbitrary. Throughout the Bible we see that God chose to reveal himself primarily through verbal means, and in the New Testament especially we note that proclamation of the Gospel is most effective when it occurs in an atmosphere of concern for our neighbor’s body as well as his soul.

For a long time overt fundamentalists shied away from politics, and thereby lost a great deal by default. In recent years, some younger evangelicals have tended to overcompensate, exaggerating the potential of public officeholders. This is possibly because we live in an age when politics is regarded as the great dynamic, and people think that ultimate worldly power resides in legislation and personal charisma. Experience tells us, however, that historians, philosophers, theologians, and thinkers in general have exerted the most leadership and have left the greatest mark upon their times. The greatest need today as always is for Christian thinkers. Nothing can stop a good idea, and Christians have in Scripture the best foundation for profitable thought.

The choice of career is one of the three most important decisions in a person’s life, equally significant from God’s perspective as the choice of a life partner, and overshadowed only by the decision to accept or reject Christ. We in the West need to be thankful that we live in a free-enterprise system in which vocation is a bona fide individual choice. It adds to our responsibility to choose wisely, prayerfully, with the evangelism of the world in mind and not out of economic or marital necessity, as some young people do.

A career decision is not easily revoked. It pervades the whole life; it is not an isolated bad choice, which can usually be lived down. And if we reject God’s will, we are then faced with living in continual sin. The bishop of Southwell did not put it too strongly when in Vocation and Ministry he declared that “what comes terribly near … the sin against the Holy Ghost is to choose our occupation or employment (so far as we have any real freedom of choice) from entirely selfish or interested notions—for that poisons all the wills of motive and injects every subsequent thought and action.”

We should not begrudge submitting to God in this or any other decision. After all, he alone knows all the factors, past, present, and future, and he alone knows what works for our ultimate good.

Worship And Work

When a person’s inner life seems shallow, his devotion as refreshing as a dried-up pond, it is often an indication that there has been no expression of his Christian faith in creative service. And when a person becomes so exhausted in his effort that he is ready to quit, it is a good indication that he has not fed his spirit with genuine prayer, meditation, and worship. When a man cultivates the inner life, which the five foolish virgins did not do, then he has that desire to express it in moral action. Then his moral action takes on fire, and direction, and purpose, and he comes back again to replenish his own lamp. I cannot overemphasize the truth that the Christian life must always be lived in the tension of worship and work.—From When Love Prevails: A Pastor Speaks to a Church in Crisis, by J. Herbert Gilmore, Jr. (Eerdmans, 1971, p. 58). Used by permission.

In their well-meaning attempt to make the Gospel relevant and credible to modern man, advocates of the new theology have only succeeded in emptying the faith of its biblical content. They have sought to incarnate the Gospel so fully that they have ended in burying it. They have tried so hard to make the Gospel meaningful that they have actually obscured it. By trying to make the faith this-worldly they have secularized it. The apostles of relevance can justly be accused of losing the identity of the Gospel and also of breaking continuity with the church tradition.

Social Activism

One of the hallmarks of the new mentality in the Church today is the concern to establish relevance by social involvement. That the Gospel has social imperatives and that Christians are obligated to put their faith into practice in the social arena are truths that should surely be acknowledged. Yet when social justice and material security become ends in themselves, then we have lost the primary goal of biblical religion, which is to seek Christ’s kingdom and his righteousness.

Our social action should be seen as a sign of the coming kingdom of God and as a means toward God’s greater glory. But so often in the circles of secular and political theology social action becomes an end in itself or a means for realizing a utopian dream. The Gospel must not be made to serve a this-worldly utopia whether this goes under the name of the Great Society, an Opportunity State, the Classless Society, or a One World Federation of Nations. The Church must never be treated as a means to political ends, for then its freedom is undermined. Political action can be accepted and encouraged as a fruit of faith, but it becomes an effective means of burying the Gospel when it is regarded as the ground or essence of faith.

Many of our would-be prophets within the Church today actually assume a pseudo-prophetic stance. True prophecy is informed by Scripture and brings all sides of a controversial issue under the judgment of God. Instead of speaking the word of God with power, many social activists unwittingly ally the faith with a social ideology, be it of the radical right or the new left. When church agencies give support to African guerrilla movements but are silent on the harassment of ethnic minorities in Arab Africa or black Africa (e.g., the Indians in Kenya), then the Gospel has probably been sacrificed to a cultural ideology. Again, when some conciliar leaders criticize the shedding of blood in South Viet Nam but close their eyes to indiscriminate abortion and mercy killing, then earnest Christians have the right to wonder whether this kind of political judgment springs from cultural rather than religious values. We should by no means wish to minimize the horror and brutality of the war in Indochina, but our protest should be based upon the divine commandment and not political partisanship. When church leaders march in peace demonstrations under the banner “Better Red Than Dead,” then again it is not unreasonable to ponder whether the real moral and social imperatives of biblical faith have been disregarded. Certainly churchmen have the right to join peace marches, and sometimes they may feel constrained to do so out of loyalty to the Gospel; but they should take care not to identify the faith with the cause of radical leftists who envision a society without God. It need hardly be said that remaining silent in the face of controversial moral issues in society is simply another way of burying the Gospel.

Revolution is now a key word in theological vocabulary, but so often those who use it tend to support the violent overthrow of existing social structures. This stands in contrast to the revolution Jesus preached, the inward transformation of the heart of man and the resultant freedom to enter into the struggle for a just society but without resort to violence. What we need is not less social involvement but a deeper social involvement, one that is rooted in faith in God instead of a social ideology and one that is careful never to absolutize any social program or political platform.

Psychological Analysis

The cure of souls has always played an important role in the ministry of the Church. Both Luther and Calvin spoke of the need for pastoral guidance, visiting the sick, intercessory prayer, meditation, and private confession. In this kind of ministry the Gospel was not hidden but revealed and declared; the penitent was directed to place his trust and confidence in Jesus Christ. Many of the early evangelicals advocated frequent self-examination in the light of the Word, but the Word was never subordinated to the goal of personal fulfillment.

In modern pastoral theology the therapeutic methods of secular psychotherapy figure more prominently than the spiritual direction practiced by our fathers in the faith. The penitent is not guided toward Christ or the Scriptures but instead is thrown back upon his own inner resources. The aim of modern nondirective counseling is rational self-understanding rather than the discovery of the will and purpose of God declared in Scripture. The emphasis is upon self-analysis and self-realization, not the greater glory of God. It is mistakenly supposed that by beginning with self one will eventually come to an understanding of God, whereas we hold with Calvin that one cannot know himself until his eyes have been opened to the reality and majesty of God.

Many counselors within the Church today eschew any kind of overt guidance, but they practice manipulation nevertheless. By the skillful use of leading questions the counselor can control the discussion and turn it toward the desired end, that is, rational insight and the resultant catharsis. Admittedly, the older form of pastoral care might also take the form of manipulation, but ideally it consisted not so much in the attempt to influence the unconscious side of the personality as in the straightforward declaration of God’s mercy and an exhortation to obedience.

In sensitivity training and encounter groups the Gospel is again hidden rather than proclaimed or confessed. Although there is direction in such groups, it is direction not from the Word of God but from one’s peers. In this kind of therapy people seek to expose their inmost feelings before others and then reexamine themselves in the light of the group reaction. The group is intended to provide support for each person, but often it assumes control, sometimes in a relentlessly judgmental manner that smacks of totalitarianism. As in the older Enlightenment philosophy, it is presupposed that the truth lies within oneself and needs only to be brought out in group discussion that also entails group criticism. Not the worship and service of God but a heightened self-awareness and an awakened sense of togetherness are the goals of sensitivity training. It is hoped that by becoming more cognizant of one’s own feelings one will become more open to the feelings of others. Only too often the result is a morbid preoccupation with self that diminishes or excludes any real interest in one’s fellow man. It is interesting to note that some seminaries today have required courses in sensitivity training and group dynamics but not even an elective course in prayer or devotion.

Lest I be misunderstood, let me clearly say that I do not wish to minimize the possible wholesome effects of psychological counseling and group dynamics on a certain level. The Church can learn from the insights of secular psychotherapy, and one such insight is the need to listen and to cultivate empathy with the distressed person. My objection lies in the confusion of inner psychic resources with redeeming grace and the equation of catharsis and divine forgiveness. There are also grounds for criticism when nondirective counseling is substituted for spiritual direction and confession and when self-examination is regarded as the surrogate for prayer.

We can learn from secular psychotherapy, but such learning must entail discriminating between truth and error. What should be opposed is not empirical psychology but the naturalistic and humanistic philosophy that informs much of what goes under the name of psychology and also pastoral theology. The modern preoccupation with self contrasts with the biblical goal of transcending self in the service of God. In the words of Catherine of Siena, one of the doctors of the Catholic Church: “Nothing is more His enemy than is self to me.… It will be God or self, not God and self.” Teresa of Avila, who was well known as a spiritual director in her time, expressed the biblical position when she said: “One shall advance more by keeping eyes on divinity than keeping eyes on ourselves.” In our day Jacques Maritain gives similar words of wisdom: “If we look at ourselves instead of looking at God … we wander disquieted instead of entering into peace.” Our Lord cogently expressed the paradox of the Christian faith when he said that by losing ourselves in the service of the kingdom of God we shall find ourselves, but that when we seek to find or discover ourselves then we shall lose ourselves (Luke 9:24, 25; John 12:25).

My plea is not for less pastoral care but for care that is anchored in the wisdom of Scripture and the catholic tradition. At times we need to listen and be nondirective in counseling, but we must always seek finally to bring the Gospel into the open and not let it remain hidden. Dr. George Benson, a Christian psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, has said that “today people will not be led to change save by one who speaks with priestly authority” (“The Disavowal of Priestly Authority,” The Christian Century, May 28, 1969).

Often the Church today seeks to promote fellowship by group techniques instead of letting fellowship spontaneously arise by giving its people a vision and higher purpose in life. I agree with the admonition of Mary Shideler: “The fashion of promoting ‘fellowship’ as such is foredoomed because authentically personal relationships cannot be manipulated by direct techniques.” She goes on to say (in her book Consciousness of Battle) that these relationships are usually the byproducts of something else, such as shared work. True fellowship arises in a church when people are gripped by the passion of faith and are moved to give of themselves for the cause of the Gospel.

When pastoral psychologists explicitly recognize the Gospel, they often treat it as a means to the end of fulfillment and happiness. But the Gospel cannot be made into a tool for solving man’s problems or used as a stepping-stone for man’s personal growth. Nor does the Gospel guarantee happiness and security for the believer. Indeed, if we are true to Scripture we discover that the Gospel brings new problems and that it promises not happiness as the world understands it but instead the cross of affliction and suffering (see Matt. 10:34–39).

This is not to overlook those in psychology and psychiatry who are seeking to do justice to the spiritual dimension, such as Paul Tournier and Bernard Martin. Nor is it to disregard those concerned with pastoral theology who have in varying degrees remained true to the evangelical and catholic tradition of pastoral care, such as Arvid Runestam, Canon E. N. Ducker, and Eduard Thurneysen. But the danger of psychologism, that is, the idea that psychological analysis supplies the key to understanding the human spirit, is very real in all these circles, and the Church must be alive to this everpresent temptation.

SILVER AND GOLD HAD I

I have wept with nickel sentience

And money-making zeal,

And grieved in coin with pathos

I did not really feel.

Papered with bills, my conscience

Grew coarse and ceased to be.

Still I condoled with coppers

And penny sympathy.

I pitied with paper currency

And modest funds for years.

Oh God, forgive the hard, cold cash

I gave in place of tears!

LOIS HOADLEY DICK

Liturgical Innovation

The new liturgy, like the new theology that informs it, also tends to bury instead of exalt the Gospel. New liturgical experiments that feature agape meals, guitar masses, audiovisual aids, and religious drama often leave out the one thing that is most important to evangelical theology—the preaching and hearing of the Word of God. The heart of the Gospel, say the avant-garde liturgists, is not a rational message but an experience of community or a style of life. The Catholic lay theologian Leslie Dewart contends in The Future of Belief that Christianity has a “mission, not a message.… What it communicates is its reality and existence, not an idea.”

In a notable break with the liturgical tradition, the new liturgy is centered not in God’s revelation but in man’s faith. It is geared to the celebration of the festivity of life instead of the Word made flesh. Its concern is with the search for identity rather than the worship of a living, personal God. At the Ninth Youth Quadrennial of the Presbyterian Church U. S. in Atlanta several years ago, a worship leader gave this definition of liturgy: “Liturgy is something which relates me to my neighbor, which makes me feel good, which gives me identity.” At a jazz mass broadcast over television from St. Mark’s Episcopal Church in New York City, one of the celebrants remarked: “Our aim is to help people to feel something—anything.”

God’s wondrous condescension in the person of Jesus Christ is often ignored while man’s potential for divinity is accentuated. Jesus is upheld as a court jester (Cox) or a social revolutionary rather than the Saviour from sin. A this-worldly optimism pervades the new liturgism. The pleasures and vitalities of life are given prominence, whereas the Bible speaks of joy amid suffering. In the view of Harvey Cox (as expressed in his The Feast of Fools), erotic dancing, intoxicating drinks, and drugs can all have a place in a “festive liturgy.”

Another characteristic of the new liturgism is the loss of the moral imperatives of the faith. Although many of the new liturgies focus upon critical social issues of the day, such as peace, race, and poverty, the theology that is presented undermines effective social action, for it disallows any kind of moral discrimination. Kent Schneider, a liturgical jazz artist, declares: “When we say celebrate, we mean that we celebrate the entire world, not just those things that we like, but all the good and evil aspects of life that feed into our consciousness” (United Church Herald, Nov., 1969). The Ecumenical Institute in Chicago, which has pioneered in liturgical experimentation, has for its slogan “All that is, is good.” In the theology of this community, everyone is “totally accepted,” “everything is approved.” No wonder that in advocating social revolution it condones any means for bringing about a new society.

Liturgical innovations are also evident in “ecumenical happenings” that bring together Catholics and Protestants and very often Jews, Muslims, and non-believers as well. A great many of these “ecumenical” services are characterized by syncretism and latitudinarianism. That the “sermon” is usually focused upon social betterment or social-personal integration rather than upon the Gospel is not surprising, for in order to attract, the service must be based upon what the various participants have in common. At a recent ecumenical Eucharist service in Cumberland, Rhode Island, a Hindu swami took part in the celebration.

Liturgical experimentation can be wholesome as long as it is informed by Scripture and by the wisdom of the church tradition. We should stand against reactionaries who merely wish to restore liturgical patterns of a bygone day just as we criticize the new liturgism that derives its inspiration from secular fads. What is needed is a new kind of liturgy, but one that stands in continuity with the past and is centered about the Word and the sacraments. In The Trouble With the Church Helmut Thielicke has said that the two main threats to the Church today are the liturgists and the musicologists because of their penchant toward archaism. He was speaking before the rise of the new liturgism that buries the Gospel in contemporaneity. As evangelicals we should seek neither to ape Catholic practices nor simply to repristinate the cultus of the Reformation churches; instead we should boldly create new forms of faith that are rooted in the past but relevant to the present.

Donald G. Bloesch is professor of theology at Dubuque Theological Seminary in Dubuque, Iowa. He received the Ph.D. from the University of Chicago and has done post-doctoral work at Oxford, Tübingen, and Basel universities.

Bitter polarization has struck most denominations today. Outsiders are bewildered to see that churchmen, who are supposed to love one another, are at one another’s throats instead. How can a group that is called the community of reconciliation be so divided?

Obviously, the divisions in the Church reflect the fracturing of the society around us. In addition, there has developed a certain theological polarization. But a prime and overlooked cause for the whirlwind of dispute is a defection by many from the basic biblical message of justification by faith. A humanistic “works righteousness” is a source of much bitter alienation in the churches today.

In both the Old and the New Testament, justification means bringing one person into a right relation with another. Sinful man needs to be brought into a right relationship with God and with his fellow man. Alienated man desperately needs the wholeness, the new life of mercy and justice, that a right relationship to God can bring.

But human history and the biblical record both attest that man, by his own efforts, can never bridge the gulf between him and God. The abyss separating finite man from the Infinite God is itself infinite. Man, by himself, can never pass over this chasm between himself and the offended God, between what is and what ought to be.

But God has bridged the gulf through Jesus Christ. The cross of Jesus spans the abyss, satisfying the holiness of God and becoming a pathway of forgiveness and new life for those who believe. By faith in Jesus, man can come into a right relationship with God. By faith, man can be progressively transformed into what God wants him to be. So the Apostle declared, “Therefore we conclude that a man is justified by faith without the deeds of the law” (Rom. 3:28).

Yet humanity through the ages has sought to become right with God by various forms of “works righteousness.” The controversies between Paul and the Circumcision, between Augustine and Pelagius, between Luther and the Roman system, all revolved about man’s attempt to make human existence pleasing and acceptable to God. Paul, Augustine, and Luther insisted that man pleases God and releases His transforming power into society only through simple trust in God’s powerful grace.

The basic controversy in the Church today is of the same cloth. Much social idealism and activism bears the mark of a humanistic “works righteousness.” Many in the churches seem determined to compel humanity to realize God’s Kingdom on earth. Some are determined to seize the wheel of history and by human effort alone force society to accept divine standards of justice and mercy. Just as the Pharisees, captivated by works righteousness, grew self-righteous, hard, hostile, and bitter, many of today’s social activists have become self-righteous, intolerant, inflexible, and impatient. They act as though society’s rebirth depended completely on human effort. They seldom appeal to the Lord of history, who will have the final word. They are unwilling to do their best and then leave the outcome to a sovereign God. Rather, in a frustration born of human inadequacy, they increasingly turn to emotional or even physical violence in frantic efforts to turn the wheel of history. Filled with unresolved guilt, they flail about trying to force society to expiate, to atone for its sins—and for theirs. Yet their frustrations only increase because neither mankind nor individual man can by human effort alone bridge the gulf between what humanity is and what humanity ought to be.

Many of us have known a Reverend Mr. X, who in his younger years felt the life-changing touch of God on his life and turned to the ministry. He had a successful ministry during the early years. But he couldn’t handle success. Imperceptibly, he came more and more to rely on his own cleverness and managerial ability, and human effort, works, began to replace faith. So he gradually lost an intimate relationship with his Lord. Frustration set in because man can never do enough good to compel heaven to bless earth. As his frustration grew, he became dissatisfied with his ministry and with the Church. Groping for a new basis for his ministry, a new justification for his existence, he became captivated by the vision of becoming an agent of change. So he hurled himself into social activity. He sought to bridge the gulf between what society is and what it ought to be by trusting in political stratagems. As angry, self-righteous, and hostile as the Pharisees of old, he became captive to a destructive works righteousness. He grew to hate those who did not accept his humanistic programs. And so he became a divisive force in his church and his denomination.

But the biblical way of bridging the abyss between what is and what ought to be is faith. Man, individually and collectively, is justified only by faith. Salvation for individuals and for society comes as men trust not in their own capacity to change things but in the sovereign grace of Christ to direct, to motivate, and to achieve change. This faith can energize a man, giving him mighty power to do good. Yet there is no strain, no frustration. Rather, there is love, joy, patience, and peace, because his trust is in the sovereign God who is the Lord of history.

Seen from this biblical perspective, the Church’s primary mission is to proclaim that our individual and corporate salvation is by faith. Deliverance from the evils of life comes from God through men and women empowered by faith. It comes in God’s good time and in his way. Does this then suggest retreat into a passive pietism? Not at all. To any serious student of the New Testament, it is apparent that genuine faith, a right relationship with the God who was hurt for all who hurt, motivates men to action, to good works. Yet the New Testament brand of activism is a far cry from the hate-filled, humanistic, impatient variety so often seen in today’s world. It is loving, sacrificial, and humble, as was its Lord. And it is as effective as a Paul, an Augustine, a Luther, a Wesley, or a Kagawa in uprooting the evils of life. The Church, then, must give priority to the message of deliverance through faith.

Secondarily, the Church must work for the reconciliation of man with man, but first within its own ranks. It is significant that Paul’s appeal for reconciliation between men is directed first to those who have already been reconciled to God through faith in Christ. God’s love is the indispensable dynamic liberating man from the sins and prejudices of the past and enabling him to identify with others who also are liberated by God’s grace. Paul yearned to see those who were reconciled to God by faith reconciled to one another through faith. This we sorely need in our day.

One denominational executive has said, “Most Protestants will not be alienated but will support programs of social betterment if they see a biblical or theological rationale for such programs.” Yet today’s ecclesiastical activists usually offer little biblical support for their programs. They seem to have little concern for reconciliation within the Body of Christ and press wildly on, trying to force political programs of reconciliation on society as a whole. But the biblical pattern gives priority to reconciliation within the Church through faith shared, discussed, and experienced together. Only thus can the community of believers become a prototype of the reconciliation that God wills for all men, and an instrument of life-changing grace to humanity.

The man justified by faith should not seek to compel either the Church or the unbelieving world to work its way toward a righteousness that can be achieved only through faith. Rather, he should proclaim to all how the world can become what God wants it to be. And he should, by sharing and experiencing the grace of God with others in the Church, strive for reconciliation within the Body of Christ. As churchmen together rediscover and experience the biblical message of justification by faith, a polarized church can yet be reconciled, and a lost world can be shown the way to harmony with God.

Charles S. MacKenzie is the new president of Grove City College in Grove City, Pennsylvania. He previously was pastor of First Presbyterian Church of San Mateo, California, and of Broadway Presbyterian Church, New York. He has the Th.D. from Princeton Seminary and has done further work at various universities here and abroad. He is a specialist in the epistemology of Blaise Pascal.

A recurring theme in the writings of C. S. Lewis is that God’s action in Christ is really a completion and fulfillment of what is intimated in the great myths of ancient peoples. For that reason Lewis, while always finding paganism deficient, nevertheless found in it much of worth. Typical of his attitude is this opening paragraph from one of his addresses:

I have lost the notes of what I originally said in replying to Professor Price’s paper and cannot now remember what it was, except that I welcomed most cordially his sympathy with the Polytheists. I still do. When grave persons express their fear that England is relapsing into Paganism, I am tempted to reply, “Would that she were.” For I do not think it at all likely that we shall ever see Parliament opened by the slaughtering of a garlanded white bull in the House of Lords or Cabinet Ministers leaving sandwiches in Hyde Park as an offering for the Dryads. If such a state of affairs came about, then the Christian apologist would have something to work on. For a Pagan, as history shows, is a man eminently convertible to Christianity. He is essentially the pre-Christian, or sub-Christian, religious man. The post-Christian man of our day differs from him as much as a divorcée differs from a virgin [“Is Theism Important?” God in the Dock, edited by Walter Hooper, Eerdmans, 1970, p. 172].

In a sense Lewis was indicating that the pagan was pre-Kantian in a way that “secular” man can never be. For the pagan, the gods were alive and active in his world. It was a world in which the events of nature, the destinies of men, and even small (and petty) affairs were the intimate concern of the gods. It was a world alive with meaning and value, not one in which “facts” and “values” were divided by a great gulf.

This is not to say the pagan was unaware of the difficulties raised by philosophers. Pagan philosophers, at least, surely knew about them. Rather, it is to say that the conceptual world in which the average person lived—the way he saw his world—was different. For pagans saw a world in which the gods were alive and active, ready to judge, to punish, to help.

However, the pagan’s conception of his gods differed, not only from what we call a secular viewpoint, but also from the picture his Christian descendants came to have of their God. Edith Hamilton has written:

Human gods naturally made heaven a pleasantly familiar place. The Greeks felt at home in it. They knew just what the divine inhabitants did there, what they ate and drank and where they banqueted and how they amused themselves. Of course they were to be feared; they were very powerful and very dangerous when angry. Still, with proper care a man could be quite fairly at ease with them. He was even perfectly free to laugh at them [Mythology, Mentor Book, New American Library, 1942, p. 17].

The Christian civilization that grew out of Greek and Roman roots certainly conceived God differently. Building upon their Judaic heritage, the Christians had a greater conception of God as the transcendent, numinous one. He was not just to be feared in the sense that Edith Hamilton uses the word; he was a God before whom man stood in awe. One took off his shoes before stepping into the presence of this God.

He was, however, still a God who was alive and active in the world. He was still concerned with the events of nature that he controlled, with the destinies of men, and even with the minor details of the lives of seemingly insignificant people. And he was, finally, a God who—so Christians confessed—had been willing to share human nature and live among men as one of them. He did not remain aloof from his world but came to die and rise again, even as the ancient myths would have to him do.

All this is really by way of introduction. It is intended to take some of the bite out of the title of this essay and help us look at a modern phenomenon from a fresh perspective. Without attempting to document it, I shall simply assert that there appears to be a new interest in integrating religious belief into the fabric of life, in finding in the Christian faith something with which men of our time can identify. And I want to focus attention upon the rock opera that has recently become such a sensation—Jesus Christ Superstar—as a leading example of what I choose to call “the new paganism.”

God did not disdain to become man. He shared our joys, our sorrows, our weaknesses, our temptations. That is, he lived a fully human life on our behalf, except that he did not sin. If this central affirmation of incarnation is true, it is surely of decisive importance in the history of the world. Then we can only applaud anything that helps the story to be more than a story, to become real for those who confront it. And this Jesus Christ Superstar often accomplishes. The listener senses the agony of Jesus, the mocking derision of Herod, the vacillation of Judas. The crowds seeking nothing more than a man to perform stunts seem vividly real and a judgment upon not only past but also present believers. In many ways this story of Jesus of Nazareth comes alive. Pieces fall into place. The story takes on a meaning that had perhaps been lost in the encrusted ways of reading it and telling it.

But is this Jesus perhaps finally too “familiar” a figure? Is he too much only the superstar with whom we are already acquainted? The Greeks felt at home with their gods in a way that the ancient Hebrews and Christians could never feel with theirs. The difference was not merely ethical. The God of the Hebrews and Christians was transcendent. But the gods of the pagans were only men immensely multiplied. With them one could attempt to stand on an equal footing. One could see in them his own faults; as, Hera, for example, was the typical jealous wife.

Is Jesus the Superstar finally too familiar a figure? To sense that Jesus could have experienced sexual temptation is to sense just how deeply he shared our situation. But to laugh at the implications as Mary soothes and comforts Jesus may not be quite the same. To sense that Jesus was pushed to the limits of his patience by the crowds is to see that the friction of living in community was temptation for Jesus even as it is for us. But is that quite the same as hearing him roar—in less than righteous anger—at the crowds to heal themselves?

To give the idea of incarnation its full measure, the Christian must take seriously the fullness of Jesus’ humanity. He must find in it the comfort and the strength that the writer of Hebrews finds there. However, there is a fine line separating that attitude from the exultation of bringing Jesus down to one’s own level. We must put the question bluntly: Does Superstar appeal because it points us to one who shared our troubles and weaknesses—but conquered them? Or does it appeal because there we find a god who has shared not only our temptations but also our tendency to succumb? Or, at best, a god who shares our uncertainty that the struggle against weakness and evil is worthwhile and can end in triumph?

The incarnation means that God took upon himself humanity. It does not mean that his character is now to be read as nothing more than humanity writ large (as Hera was the typical wife on a grand scale). I cannot avoid the judgment that Jesus Christ Superstar—beautiful in places and moving though it surely is—remains ultimately and essentially pagan rather than Christian. And therein lies the significance of its haunting question, “Who are you?” It cannot affirm that in this man God is acting, because it finds in him only a man—a man writ large, a man like the gods, a superstar, but only a man.

Here, however, we must recall Lewis’s words: “A Pagan, as history shows, is a man eminently convertible to Christianity.” To say that Superstar is pagan rather than Christian is not necessarily the most damning judgment one could make about it. Since we have recently experienced a period of “secular Christianity,” the label pagan might even be thought an accolade. To borrow again from Lewis’s example: better the virgin than the divorcée!

This could explain one of the most curious facts about the rise of this rock opera—its appropriation by the churches. Perhaps they have been unconsciously longing for something—anything—that will seem to make God once again a living reality in the universe. What has been forgotten in the initial burst of enthusiasm, however, is that Christianity is not the only thing capable of accomplishing that. Paganism will do just as well.

Failing to make this distinction has led to a misuse of the opera. The point in recognizing paganism is to convert it. But the churches have been using Superstar, not to help secular man raise the questions he needs to raise, but (mirabile dictu) to provide him with answers. Yet it is precisely the central Christian affirmation that is lacking in the opera. Insofar as it leads man from secularism to paganism, it is to be applauded. But to pretend that Christians should be satisfied to do that would be to miss the point by a wide margin.

For the pagan’s god must finally be understood as the pagan’s own creation. And like all other creations of men he must be judged and found wanting. He must die if knowledge of the true God is to arise. Jesus Christ Superstar can be enjoyed and also used by Christians and by Christian churches. Nonetheless, they must ultimately find a God who, even while becoming man, is most definitely not on their level. A God whom they cannot by any means bring down to their level. A God who does not justify their faults. A God who speaks with more than human authority. They must find a God who has done more than share their weaknesses; he must have conquered them. And then—most emphatically—they must affirm in triumph and victory that God has risen to conquer even death.

Gilbert Meilaender, Jr., is a student at Concordia Seminary in St. Louis. In addition to his theological studies he is doing graduate work in philosophy at Washington University. He has just completed a year of vicarage at a Lutheran church in Seaford, New York.