EDITORIALS

A church signboard in Manhattan lists under pastor the man’s name and under ministers “all members of the congregation.” If 1971 Christian graduates could catch the import of that, they could really do some commencing. Whatever a Christian’s station in life, his chief concern should be to make Christ known. A special challenge in our day is to surface evangelical truth in all areas of human endeavor. One of the Church’s crippling weaknesses is the failure of so many believers to work for Christ in ways directly related to their own life situations.

For many laymen, such involvement is not easy. But as Thomas Huxley said, “perhaps the most valuable result of all education is the ability to make yourself do the thing you have to do, when it ought to be done, whether you like it or not.” The Christian graduate who has learned that, and who is willing to tackle adversity for the sake of God’s revelation, is on his way to changing the world.

“Cultural confrontation” is a high-sounding term that may suggest sophisticated effort beyond the reach of all but a super-intelligent few. But as the task of the Christian it is nothing more than an expansion of biblical witness in ways appropriate to our day. It is no longer enough to speak an occasional word for the Lord to the friend or passerby (some believers, regrettably, have not even come that far). We have the means for much wider influence—upon whole communities and even upon society itself. To let this potential slip is to disobey God and to offend our fellow men, because we thus keep to ourselves something of supreme value.

For example: in the political milieu, cultural confrontation can mean speaking up for Christian principles in an election campaign. In medicine, Christian witness can be expressed in conscientious, biblically based efforts to develop ethics for the handling of new problems. In the arts and communications, a Christian sure of his ground has unparalleled chances to give visibility to evangelical truth, and everyone can write letters to editors and react to TV and radio programs. In community life, the believer can win respect by volunteering to do unpleasant tasks, as Mennonites recently did in cleaning up after the Washington demonstrators.

Such activity runs against the grain of the current philosophy of doing your own thing. A student in a Christian college recently lamented that a distressingly large number of her peers prefer handcrafts to homework. Effective cultural confrontation depends upon adequate preparation—academic as well as experiential. There is no short cut.

What barriers hinder cultural confrontation?

One is simply ignorance of what the dimensions of our witness should be. It is not enough to be honest and diligent. In many vocations, the nature of a Christian posture has yet to be explored, and we’d rather not bother. We prefer to leave proclamation of the Gospel to preachers and evangelists. But our support of these workers, however admirable, does not get us off that unyielding hook called the Great Commission. Christ’s “Go … and preach” must be obeyed in all the little worlds in which we live and work and play. Perhaps the new graduates will see this more clearly.

Cultural confrontation is crippled if we try to do it all from inside the institutional church and equate spiritual advance with bulging pews. Today’s most promising spiritual opportunities may lie in the path of alert laymen who look for them in the context of professional, business, and community life. Although the Church is as crucial as ever, its primary role is not to involve itself in secular affairs but rather to equip believers to step out into the world and minister (Eph. 4:12). Churches ought to send saints out as well as bring sinners in. Much preaching from the pulpit as well as from the printed page is wasted today because it is not reaching the intended audience.

A quip currently moving along the ecclesiastical banquet trail tells of a brochure-writer’s naïve description of a conference speaker: “He was a pastor before he went into communications.” Actually, pastors today may indeed be more restricted in gospel proclamation than laymen, for the laymen may have much more ready access to spiritually needy people.

Another barrier to cultural confrontation is fatalism. Many Christians think the world we live in is hopelessly corrupt. Evil, anti-Christian forces have so firm a grip, they feel, that opposition is futile; one must either join them or withdraw. This attitude shows ignorance, and probably laziness as well. True, tares are all about; but the wheat is growing too. For the Christian who cares, opportunities are limitless. He will respond with a willingness to become “all things to all men,” so that he can “by all means save some” (1 Cor. 9:22).

The cornerstone of evangelical reticence may very well be personal pride. We shrink at the thought of erring, of embarrassing ourselves before the world. While secular culture exudes confidence, we cower in a corner, hiding our light.

Whatever New Testament “separation” means, it does not mean an isolationism that keeps us from presenting the Gospel to sinners where they are, in the setting in which it is most likely to get through to them. The salt we are to be is pervasive and penetrating!

Many signs point to a great spiritual awakening just around the corner. We have the means and the message to turn that corner. Can this year’s Christian graduates supply the push we need—and perhaps usher in the Christian generation?

What a commencing that would be!

Ecclesiastical Mccarthyism

In what Newsweek called “an unexpected show of pique” before the United Presbyterian General Assembly, the stated clerk, William Thompson, “lashed out at the straightest group in the church—the evangelically-minded Lay Committee …” (see also News, page 29). Thompson accused the group of “calculated attacks upon the theological position taken by one of the agencies of the General Assembly and upon the integrity of the General Assembly itself.” He wanted the Standing Committee on Minutes and Reports to examine the material he thought objectionable and decide whether to recommend that the General Assembly appoint a committee to investigate the Lay Committee, which he said is operating “in a manner designed to divide and destroy the church.”

Fortunately for Thompson, the church, and the decadent liberal establishment, the Standing Committee on Minutes and Reports did not press matters further. But still we must ask, Why pick on the Lay Committee, whose purpose is to maintain the purity of the church and the integrity of the General Assembly’s own approved Book of Confessions?

If the stated clerk is really interested in the integrity and the peace of the church, he has drawn a bead on the wrong target. He should aim at some of the seminary professors, clergymen, and ordinands who openly deny major teachings of the Book of Confessions to which they are supposed to be committed.

He might also take a hard look at the Presbyterian publishing house that published and promoted J. A. T. Robinson’s Honest to God and Thomas J. J. Altizer’s Gospel of Christian Atheism, both of which contravene clear teachings of the Book of Confessions, and the Larger Catechism of the church.

And then, turning his sights on himself, Thompson might ask: Why is it wrong for the Lay Committee to criticize what it feels is the wrong course of the church if it was right for Thompson himself to stand in front of the White House for a week recently to protest what he sees as the government’s wrong course in Viet Nam? Could not this action be construed as no less “divisive and destructive”? What’s sauce for the goose is not sauce for the gander, apparently.

Elusive Liberties

The conviction of four Jews in Latvia suggests once again that the world is still a long way from recognizing freedom of speech and religious liberty as basic human rights. The four were found formally guilty of slander against the Soviet state (see News, p. 34) and were sentenced to prison terms ranging from one to three years. Their real “crime,” we fear, is that they were devout Jews and that they campaigned hard to be able to go to Israel.

Jewish leaders have done a service to freedom-loving people everywhere by calling attention not only to the repression of their own brethren in the Soviet Union but also to the harassment there of Catholics, Orthodox, Protestant, and Muslims. In this last case, unfortunately, world opinion was not sufficiently aroused to pressure the Soviets to release the four Jews.

The need to speak up for freedom will undoubtedly continue. Nine Jews are awaiting trial in Kishinev, the capital of Soviet Moldavia. The charges are believed to be similar to those brought against the Jews in Latvia.

Making The Rod Count

What has happened to the “rod,” that Solomonic symbol of discipline? At one time the mere sight of a leather strap or birch switch or mother’s poised hand created instant catharsis. But the permissive society has changed all that. In the classroom as well as in the home, the discipline of the rod seems to be a thing of the past.

One school system is trying—too hard—to compensate for the lack of home-administered corporal punishment. Whippings and beatings are standard treatment in Dallas, Texas. One eleven-year-old student, new in class, was whipped repeatedly for such sins as “misspelling, tardiness, and inattentiveness.” Another child was beaten until his buttocks hemorrhaged, and in one elementary school the principal wields a twenty-two-inch baseball bat as a paddle. Although some parents have complained, the policy remains unchanged.

The use of extreme, indiscriminate disciplinary measures is not the way to reverse the permissive trend. We need to make discipline count. Solomon, a firm believer in discipline, knew that “the rod and reproof give wisdom” when wisely administered (Prov. 29:15). Solomon’s old advice is worth heeding today.

Portfolio Power

The more liberal church bodies are frustrated by the silence that has met their numerous social pronouncements, says Fletcher Coates, information director for the National Council of Churches. They have therefore been enlarging their strategy to take in direct economic clout. Coates notes that the churches “have begun to examine their investment portfolios with a view to applying financial pressures to secure the social goals they seek.”

There is plenty to examine. Church wealth in this country has been estimated at $160 billion, of which about $20 billion is thought to be invested in corporate securities. Churches are second only to the federal government in monies received and distributed annually. Social activists who see the Church’s role as making the world a better place in which to live are now very eager to channel the power of that money into the promotion of certain causes. The NCC recently published a seventy-eight-page primer for economic involvement and is opening a “Corporate Information Center” to keep an eye on the “social profiles” of major American corporations.

Proponents of the movement cite divestiture of securities in offending companies as one option (selling all investments is not considered). But the preferable course, they say, is to keep the stock and take part in voting campaigns at annual stockholders’ meetings to pressure management to adopt “social criteria.” Hence churches have been actively involved in movements such as Campaign GM. (They have not, however, expressed any regret for their acceptance and use of dividend checks garnered through “immoral” corporate policies, past or future.)

At one time, the churches’ only major moral concern about investments was whether the liquor and tobacco industries should be shunned. That’s admittedly narrow, though legitimate as far as it goes. Now the focus has shifted to whether the firms make armaments, pollute the environment, exploit people and resources, and abet racial discrimination.

There are some immoral men in corporate structures, as in every other human endeavor. Some corporate attitudes can be challenged on ethical and theological grounds, and when business and industry leaders have not moved rapidly to eliminate inequities, they should not be surprised when churches that are socio-economically oriented enter the fray. For the Christian, it should be obvious, profit can never be the sole criterion. But the big question is which particular policies are to be challenged and how.

The issues on which the churches have centered their investment attention are matters of valid moral concern. But they certainly do not exhaust the range of important moral issues that crop up in business and industry, and one wonders why these alone are the targets of the campaigners.

We do not deny the churches’ right to vote their stock as they please. We do question the implied assumption that in complex situations fallible churches can sort out the moral issues so efficiently as to determine what is the Christian way to vote. Christians—indeed Christian ethicists—conscientiously differ on which means will achieve a particular good end. Church leaders may claim a superior moral outlook because they do not measure “profit” solely by the size of dividends. But many exhibit a leftist or socialistic political bent that reduces the objectivity of their moral views. And they tend to discount the Christian businessman’s practical insights based on experience in how ethical principles are best implemented.

Who is to say that ceasing to do business in countries whose governments condone racism (which we agree is wrong) will remove that evil or improve the lot of those who are discriminated against? And why do the current campaigners seek on the one hand to boycott these countries and on the other to increase trade with governments that promote religious persecution? And why is no word of concern uttered about inflation, which creates the most hardship among poor people, or about the moral factors in unwarranted consumer demands? These are some of the hard questions for which the campaigners give no answer.

The outworking of biblical principles is best achieved when individual Christians apply these principles in their multitudinous spheres of influence, not when tenuous propositions are put forth at stockholders’ meetings as Christian solutions. If church leaders feel that Christian laymen are insensitive to moral issues, then the churches have failed. And that failure is not going to be corrected by creation of pressure groups. If the churches cannot by preaching and teaching convince their laymen to act in accord with Christian principles, it is hard to believe that they will convince them with speeches at annual meetings. It may well be that moral insensitivity in business today is a result of many churches’ neglect of biblical precepts.

A strange twist in this whole movement is that the integrity-questioning scrutiny of companies proposed by church leaders is the same kind of thing they deplore when critics bring it to bear on them.

G, Gp, R, X: Rated Unreliable

Can the movie industry police itself? The rating system set up in 1968 seemed like a conscientious attempt at self-regulation. But the standards have deteriorated very noticeably, and many people think the rating system is now quite unreliable. The Broadcasting and Film Commission of the National Council of Churches and the National Catholic Office for Motion Pictures have withdrawn their support of the system, and we applaud their forthright action.

We do not want government censorship of films. The public may demand this alternative, however, unless the members of the Motion Picture Association of America agree among themselves and provide some decent fare.

Explosive love relationships develop rather readily in our society with its warped concept of love. Some extramarital relationships stay hidden for a long time, but sooner or later the marriage partner begins to sense that something is going on. Eventually the problem is exposed and major decisions have to be made. At that point a couple wanting to save their marriage may turn to an understanding pastor.

The offended partner will, naturally, be deeply hurt. He or she may at first think divorce is the only solution. Though Christ permitted divorce in cases of adultery, he did so only because of the hardness of men’s hearts. A better solution is to forgive the offender and rebuild the marriage.

To begin the restoration, the hurt partner needs time to express his pain, bitterness, anger, hostility, or sorrow. Eventually, however, he must face the hard but necessary question, “What have I done that contributed to this situation?” Because the extramarital relationship often supplies what the marriage lacks, the answer is frequently one or more sins of omission, such as taking the other for granted, neglect, failing to provide reassurance, negligence in expressing appreciation, or failure to be attractive, accessible, approachable. Sometimes a spouse with a busy scheduled life appears disinterested or cold. Children, clubs, business, and church activities, important as they are, need to be kept in perspective.

When the offended partner realizes his own shortcomings and their contribution to the breakdown, he can, with God’s help, begin to forgive the offender and rebuild trust. Although man’s forgiveness is—like all else that he does—imperfect, both partners must be willing to forgive as totally as they can. As divine forgiveness depends not on man’s feeling forgiven but on God’s declaration of forgiveness, to be accepted on the basis of his Word, so each of the partners must declare forgiveness of the other and then accept the other’s forgiveness on the basis of his word. He must also learn to forgive himself, something that is often harder than forgiving the other person. The wise counselor will spend further time with the offended one exploring what he has learned from the past.

The offending partner must break a deep emotional attachment in order to rebuild his marriage. He has learned to depend—wrongly so, to be sure—upon someone else to fulfill various important needs, and the required break will probably bring extreme pain and turmoil. The offended partner can help by trying—despite his own anguish—to understand the painful “withdrawal” that accompanies his spouse’s redirection of loyalty and dependence. More than anything else, both partners need someone with whom to share their burdens, and there is no better way to rebuild a marriage relationship than to begin again to lean on each other. Sharing the heavy burden helps redirect attachment to its proper object. To remove the illegitimate relationship without replacing it could lead to the fate of the man who was cleansed but not refilled: seven worse demons came in and took over. The offended one may need help to resume his place as the needed one.

Both partners will need to renew their spiritual commitment. They must cultivate their love for Christ. For the offended one, that love will salve the wounds and help cleanse away the anger. The offender needs it to cleanse away the sin and guilt. Both must appropriate the Holy Spirit’s power: one will need it to stay mind and tongue in forgetfulness; the other will need it to maintain faithfulness. Both need the fruit of His presence: love.

The partners will need to renew their commitment to each other, not only in an emotional way but with a declaration—and deeds to fit the words. They will have to say to each other what, if they are Christians, they have already said to God: “I belong to you heart, soul, mind, and strength. I will do all I can to be faithful to you.” Then they must pactice loving each other. They must give as much of themselves as they are able to give—and want and work to give much more.

If a strong desire to give can be established, the marriage can be rebuilt, even from a very painful past. And the new relationship can be stronger than husband and wife have ever experienced before. Such a happy ending requires of both the strong desire to save the marriage and the maturity and flexibility to face their individual contributions to the breakdown. A minister’s wise counsel, pointing them to God’s example of love and forgiveness, may be the cornerstone of their new life together.—HENRY WILDEBOER, pastor, First Christian Reformed Church, Calgary, Alberta.

Coming out of a restaurant where I had had lunch I met a young couple I have known for a long time. They have been married six years, and I knew they were childless. But in his arms there was one of these “punkin’ seats” and in it a precious baby, sleeping quietly with a cherubic smile on its face.

These young people told me about their search for a baby and how this one had come to them through an adoption agency when he was only twelve days old. He is now in a home where the warmth of love surrounds him, and he has brought to that home great joy.

As we talked they told of another couple, also known to me, living in one of our large Northern cities. They too have been searching for a child to adopt but have been frustrated again and again.

As I walked away there swept over me the feeling that here is the answer to the problem of unwanted babies, the alternative to the burgeoning abortion mills of our land! Tens of thousands of couples would gladly welcome these babies into their hearts and homes.

Not in years have I been as shaken as now, as I realize the widespread indifference to the implications of abortion on demand and the commercialization of this destruction of life.

Although I have retired from the practice of medicine, I am still on the active rolls of some medical societies, and as a result I receive solicitations from organizations that have sprung up like mushrooms in New York State, where abortion on demand is legal. So far I have received letters from six apparently unrelated groups that say they are prepared to handle the whole matter safely and conveniently for those who are referred to them.

That we have embarked on this new approach to the termination of pregnancies bodes ill for America as well as for those churches that have become active in this. It evidences a callous disregard for the realities of the unwarranted termination of life, which sears the souls of all concerned.

There are, obviously, two groups of women who ask for abortions, married and unmarried. The married woman may feel she already has as many children as she wants, or may cite poverty or any one of a number of other reasons, while the unmarried woman may ask for an abortion because she wishes to rid herself of her guilt.

In both cases, how much better to accept the consequences of pregnancy and then permit the babies to be welcomed into the hearts and homes of the childless! This may be “inconvenient,” but I believe it is the “Christian” way out of a difficult situation.

I write from neither ignorance nor inexperience, for I have performed abortions in cases where, after full consultation, it was decided that termination of pregnancy was necessary. But I find the brazenness and coldness of approach among some ministers and politicians—and now the “abortion expediters”—unbelievable.

Some of the same people who are urging the abolition of capital punishment are taking the lead in advocating abortion on demand. Has the willful murderer more rights than the unwanted child?

The current movement toward abortion on demand can have disastrous results, for not infrequently abortion leads to a psychological trauma. The feeling of guilt can rise up again and again to plague those who have compounded one grave mistake with another.

Another effect of abortion on demand is to give added impetus to the growing trend toward sexual laxity. Young people—confused by the modern interpretations of “love,” distracted by church and college leaders who have fallen for either the pagan philosophy of free love or situation ethics, hooked on the assurances of “the pill,” and lacking biblically based moral and spiritual values—are highly susceptible to the abortionist’s promise of temporary release from the problem of biological cause and effect. The fact that some official church departments have become agents of abortion on demand, and have assigned persons to carry out this program, adds greatly to the confusion.

What is the “Christian” solution to an unwanted pregnancy? I do not believe that it is abortion. Those who seek counsel should be pointed to a better way out. They should be told that the life of the unborn is at stake, that it too has “rights” that must be preserved. If the woman is unmarried, the second step should be to recommend a Christian home for unwed mothers, of which there are many, where she will find love, compassion, and sorely needed spiritual help. Finally, those involved in the decision should be led to face up to the rightness of releasing the child for adoption.

I admit that “trouble” and “waiting” are involved, but I insist that this course of action is infinitely better and, I believe, more in accordance with God’s will than the wanton destruction of life, which is what abortion on demand really is.

As a physician I well know that there are times when an abortion is necessary, but the reasons then are basically medical, and it is physicians in consultation who alone are competent to determine this matter.

The Christian minister increasingly finds himself called upon for counsel by pregnant unmarried girls. It is a responsibility he cannot shirk. But it is disturbing to see that many ministers are meeting this situation by referring the girls to the various abortion services now available through church agencies.

As a physician and a Christian, one who can well understand the emotional agonies involved for parents and daughters, I urge all concerned not to accept what seems to be the easy way out but to face up to the fact that a human life is involved—a life that cannot defend itself and is in no way responsible for its plight.

Confronted with what is, sad to say, a growing problem in the life of America, where Christian convictions and moral standards are on the wane, Christian parents and ministers must look for the solution that most clearly conforms to God’s will for us sinners.

The consequences of sin cannot be avoided, but they must not be compounded by a further step in the wrong direction. I urge that parents and ministers encourage the unmarried mother-to-be to let the pregnancy continue, while she spends the waiting period in one of the available homes for unwed mothers where an atmosphere of Christian love and care can bring healing to the spirit. Then do whatever possible to pave the way for the child’s adoption into a loving home. That baby who is unwanted by some is yearned for by others.

This can be the “Christian” way out of a tragic predicament.

FROM THE DESK OF …

DEAR ELIJAH,

As chairman of the board of Jordan Divinity School, let me take this opportunity to express to you the appreciation of all of us on the board for your courageous, prophetic stand on current issues.

As Jordan’s founding president you have exercised a dynamic leadership and have exerted a great influence on the young sons of the prophets which will undoubtedly continue to be felt in years to come.

It is your steadfast leadership that has enabled the school to weather all of those organizational difficulties that beset any new endeavor.

And now the school is entering into a new phase of its existence. The enthusiastic support of the 880s has given way to the ennui of the 870s. Current giving is at its lowest point in the past ten years, and the income from endowments is off by about 40 per cent. We have been forced to dip into our reserves for the first time in our history.

Several factors seem to be involved. To begin with we are feeling the backlash of Middle Israel to the continued political pronouncements and anti-administration statements of both yourself and graduates of the divinity school. Don’t misunderstand me, I wouldn’t for a moment suggest that anyone connected with the divinity school should have done anything other than express himself honestly. I am simply setting forth the facts as they appear to those of us on the executive committee—who are, after all, responsible for the continuation of the school.

In addition we are faced with a depressed economy, brought on in part by the continued difficulties with Syria. These political problems have had a debilitating influence on the nation.

We must also face the fact that our big givers are by and large a conservative lot. Elijah, I think we must ask ourselves the question: Have we gotten too far ahead of our constituency? After all, what good is prophetic leadership with no one to lead?

Perhaps it is time to pause a bit and let the rest of Israel catch up with us. It might be well if we were to be a little less prophetic for a time.

I know you will understand that I am not suggesting that anyone compromise his conscience in these matters. I would be as distressed as anyone to see these young men become captives of the establishment.

However, we must learn to understand and adjust to the times we live in. Perhaps this is the time for us to remember that “he who restrains his lips is prudent.”

I leave this matter completely in your hands knowing that you will give full weight to the deep concern felt by the trustees over the continuation of quality theological education.

Yours for the greater glory of God,

SACRIFICE FOR STUDENT AFFLUENCE?

Having attended a prominent Christian liberal-arts college (and having, I feel, greatly benefited from it), I particularly enjoyed the May 21 issue with the articles concerning Christian education. Specifically, Frank E. Gaebelein’s “Crisis in Christian Education” draws appropriate attention to the need to support such education; and I heartily agree with his point in the latter paragraphs: Christian stewardship, even to the extent of giving sacrificially, is a must if Christian education is to survive and/or grow.

My question is this: Why should the middle-class Christian give sacrificially (as the article implies, to the point of giving up some of his affluence) just so the Christian college student may live in affluence? Although I know from experience that this is by no means universally true, in some cases little or no practical, disciplined frugality has been applied in the planning of new facilities. Yes—buy books for the library; buy excellent scientific equipment; spend for all those things necessary for a solid Christian education. But must those men and women—being trained to face our secular world with sound, integrated Christian answers—live in dormitories that are laid out, furnished, and equipped more like plush motels than home? Is this necessary to the formation of their Christ-like characters? Quality is essential; but where lie our values?

Dallas, Texas

ENCOURAGING REFRESHMENT

Thank you for your very fine “Evangelical College Students: An Opinion Sampler” (May 21). It is indeed encouraging to see such fresh, penetrating, and balanced thinking when so many students are hugging the left lane of nihilism and so many of the silent majority have made a sharp right turn into stodgy traditionalism.

Your magazine is like taking a two-hour refresher course in Christian thought every couple of weeks.

Memorial Presbyterian Church

West Palm Beach, Fla.

BLIND TO BEAUTY

Carl F. H. Henry’s excellent article on “The Rationale for the Christian College” (May 21) lists truth, justice, grace, and righteousness as the essential concerns of Christian education today. I wonder why beauty is omitted from the list. Its omission reflects not only a blind spot in present-day Christianity but a general malady in our pragmatic and scientifically oriented society. Our culture’s inability to regard beauty as a value has produced a world which is increasingly unfit for human life. I submit that education which neglects to educate and enliven our artistic faculty is not a complete Christian education.

Asst. Prof. of English

Wheaton College

Wheaton, Ill.

NO DUPLICATIONS NEEDED

We appreciate the report of the twenty-ninth Annual Convention of the National Association of Evangelicals, “The New Evangelical Surge” (May 21). However, the concluding paragraphs commenting on Dr. Billy Graham’s reference to “a new international evangelical fellowship” were understood by your reporter to mean that Dr. Graham was calling for something to replace the NAE. Actually this was not the case, as a transcript of the speech indicates.

Dr. Graham was talking about an international organization (not a national one) that would pull evangelicals together in a worldwide non-structured fellowship, regardless of other affiliations. Of course, there cannot be a fellowship without some structure to call it together. Such a loosely structured fellowship already exists in the World Evangelical Fellowship. It is composed of national alliances or fellowships of evangelicals. The oldest ecumenical evangelical alliances, such as the Evangelical Alliance of England (1846), France, Germany, and others are part of the WEF.

Dr. Graham’s concern is that the WEF only has members from some eighteen countries so it is quite inadequate because it does not account for the one hundred countries not represented. However, the WEF is at least a start.

General Director

Office of Public Affairs

National Association of Evangelicals

Washington, D. C.

THE MISUNDERSTOOD N.A.E.

Your correspondent’s interpretation (“The NAE: New Marching Orders,” May 7) of what NAE’s response might be to Dr. Graham’s address at the closing session of its convention disclosed an apparent lack of understanding of the association’s historic stand on fellowship. He alleged that it would be a major problem for those in the National Association of Evangelicals to establish contact with evangelicals in churches affiliated with the National and World Councils of Churches. This suggests that he is ignorant of the fact that throughout the twenty-nine years of its history NAE has included within its membership individuals and churches that are thoroughly evangelical and thus able to subscribe to its seven-point Statement of Faith, and yet are part of denominations that hold membership in the National and World Councils of Churches.…

It should be pointed out, also, that the proposals to which your correspondent referred were presented at the closing session of the convention. There was no possible opportunity for the association to consider these. Hence, any assessment of the reaction of NAE to the proposals is wholly speculative and premature.

President

National Association of Evangelicals

Wheaton, Ill.

IT TAKES TWO

Mary Bouma still misses the point in “Liberated Mothers” (May 7) by continuing to assume that women are the homemakers. The point of the liberation movement—which, properly conceived, includes men as well as women—is that it not only takes two to make a baby, but two to make a home. No matter how much creativity and skill goes into cooking, decorating, and gardening, some women are going to prefer writing or teaching or administration or selling; and some men—left to their own inclinations, and with cultural approval—would love to be working around the house more.

Both are needed in and responsible for the nurture of their children. There is no necessary reason why the need for intensive interaction with an adult (as shown by current research by Margaret Mead and others) should always be supplied by the mother, after nursing days are over. The father is another good choice.

Chicago, Ill.

The cover of the May 7 issue was clever but insulting to liberated mothers and to all women.

While I understand and appreciate Mary Bouma’s efforts to present “a conception of homemaking much broader than the usual one,” I find her conception quite narrow. She envisions the man as the money-earner and the woman as the homemaker. I find this strict division of roles to be quite harmful both to the man and to the woman.…

Mrs. Bouma consistently states that the man should go to work and the woman should stay at home, except in cases of economic necessity. Some couples may choose this pattern as being most in line with their personalities and preferences. Others may choose the opposite pattern. However, the pattern which is healthiest for the man and woman and their children is one in which the family is integrated. The father works and yet orients his life around the home; perhaps he takes a job with a lower salary and less prestige in order to be with his family more hours per week or during certain parts of the day.

The mother likewise works and orients her life around her family. Both people are deeply involved in the physical and spiritual care of their children. Both have the stimulation and fulfillment of a useful role in the larger community. In Mrs. Bouma’s pattern the emotional capacity of the man is restricted; he is too busy and too tired to interact meaningfully with his children. In her pattern, the mental capacity of the woman is restricted; she is advised to sacrifice this for her family and for the Lord. In a healthy, happy home, each need of each family member should be fulfilled.…

Finally, and most grievously, Mrs. Bouma calls Christian mothers to selfdenial and sacrifice. No woman should sacrifice her self to be a homemaker or money-earner or anything else. She should choose a pattern of activities that fulfills her self, the self given her by God to be used in his service. Her true nature may call her to homemaking, to a career, or to a combination of the two. But in no event should she suppress her self and think thus to gain God’s approval. Jesus Christ calls each human being to the fullest use and development of himself.

Berkeley, Calif.

‘JESUS’ VIGOR

I was extremely blessed by [reading in “Wave of Witness,” May 7, of] this renewed approach by the youth of our nation. You and others may call them Jesus freaks, but it may take this simple “hallelujah chorus group,” to bring the high and mighty in this present system to understanding that we as born-again Christians must “go ye …” to be witnesses to the uttermost nations and people, even at home. Thank God for young people that will cry aloud the name of Jesus.… It is good to hear that fresh vigor still abounds in the United States.

Springfield, Ohio

Thanks so much for the May 7 issue. Boy, what a thrill to get a panoramic view of what Jesus is doing! People keep asking me, “What is the Jesus Movement?” And I always say, “It’s Jesus moving!”

Los Angeles, Calif.

Seventh-day Adventists take some pride in being called a “peculiar people,” which indeed they are. They are among the few remaining church groups that believe in the literal interpretation of the Bible. They hold fast to a personal second coming of Christ—soon—and envision their task as preparing the earth for his return. Their health practices, rather strictly observed, were once considered foolish and quaint. Now ample scientific support is found for a large share of them.

As Christians all over view with alarm the churches’ slipping hold on their members, Adventists maintain a steady increase in numbers. Their evangelistic programs flourish in many countries, and their hospitals are financially sound and well operated. A measure of the commitment of a Seventh-day Adventist is his faithfulness in contributing a full 10 per cent of his net income to the church as well as his liberality in supporting church-related projects, including an extensive parochial school system. Adventist giving for 1969 was $350.96 per member, the highest of forty-eight churches reporting in a recent study published by the National Council of Churches.

How does a church with these strict practices survive in a day of permissiveness? The answer lies chiefly in the guidance given the church by its prophetess, Mrs. Ellen G. White. But herein lies a problem.

Adventists believe that the writings of Mrs. White have the same authority as the Bible. The justification usually given is that she has never written anything not in keeping with conservative theology; her messages explain and amplify biblical truth. But this is missing the point. Adventists are told by church leaders to regard her publications as having the same degree of inspiration as the Bible.

The Seventh-day Adventist church emerged out of the intense interest in the advent of Christ predicted for 1844. It was formally organized as a body in 1863 with John Byington as the first General Conference president. During its early years the church benefited greatly from the genius of Mrs. White’s leadership and counsel. She had an uncanny business sense, and she was capable of inspiring men to commit themselves to a life of service. A word from her could alter the attitudes of church brethren as they deliberated over critical issues in the General Conference.

Many of her counsels and visions dealt with specific issues of the day. An example is her attitude toward the widespread medical misuse of harmful drugs. In those days it was common practice for physicians to use liberal quantities of strychnine, arsenic, mercury, purges, and emetics in dealing with an already weakened patient. Mrs. White stated that drugs had no part in the treatment of disease and recommended hydrotherapy and the healing qualities of fresh air, sunlight, and simple foods.

However, losing sight of the historical situation to which Mrs. White addressed herself—the drug abuse that was common practice among physicians of her day—ultra-conservative Adventists of today still oppose the use of drugs. They bemoan the fact that Adventist hospitals are like other hospitals. In other words, they believe that what Mrs. White said in a particular situation a century ago applies with equal force today, no matter how much times have changed.

To cite another example: in Mrs. White’s day the country was rife with stage hypnotists, phrenologists, and self-styled psychologists, and so she warned her followers against being conned by these charlatans, using language and thought current in her time. The conservative Adventist now reads her writings and concludes that all hypnotism is a work of the devil.

New currents of understanding may bring some changes in the rigid stance of the Adventist Church. Two publications, Spectrum (sponsored by the church) and Perspective (an Adventist laymen’s publication), are raising questions and self-criticisms. But the main issue of reorienting the church to a more rational attitude toward Mrs. White is evaded; it’s too loaded a topic.

In the minds of many Adventists, to disagree with one of her messages or visions opens the floodgates to a rejection of her counsel on all matters, including theology. For reassurance, such members read where Mrs. White anticipated such a movement and clearly labeled it a manifestation of the evil one. In other words, any serious study of Mrs. White’s theological writings that is more than a literal interpretation is considered by the rank and file of Adventists to be a hostile attack by “liberal elements.”

Consider where this puts anyone wishing to search in depth on doctrinal matters. He may study the Bible carefully, but the final word rests with Mrs. White. Her opinions are considered untouchable if she prefaces her remarks with “I was shown …” or “In a vision I saw.…”

This doesn’t stop thinkers in the church from weighing carefully the age of the earth, a new mission of the laity, the remnant-church concept, attitudes toward the Catholic Church, and a host of other matters. Yet they discuss these topics without comfort and with a sense of guilt. Unfortunately, personal feelings work their way into such discussions, and what is said may indeed become a hostile attack, as church leaders label it.

On the other hand, free-thinking Adventists may be wanting to have their cake and eat it too. They cherish conservative habits and practices; they are pleased that their children are growing up removed from the atmosphere of protest and drug abuse. Yet they long for the opportunity to speak out on issues that might ultimately destroy the very thing they cherish! Some are satisfied to read and stay abreast of current Christian thought, turning off this part of their knowledge when they go to church and hear enshrined doctrines. Church means primarily a fellowship, a clinging to the conservative past. Others sit in discomfort and mentally disagree with what is going on. They fear to make their opinions known because of the social ostracism they would suffer. Still others carry on a vendetta severely critical of everything Mrs. White ever wrote or did. As the conservatives hang on Mrs. White’s every word to support their dogmas, so these critics tear her writings apart sentence by sentence in an attempt to prove her inconsistent, cantankerous, and mentally ill.

Both attitudes do her a grave injustice. By her creative leading the Adventist church became a stable organization. It is too bad that Adventists can’t pay her the respect she deserves and then continue where she left off. But this would mean seeking answers to difficult questions. It is easier to go on with the task of reconciling her statements to the present and finding out that after all she did have the answer; all that was needed was the research to ferret it out.

A current trend in the church is to compile from Mrs. White’s voluminous writings her statements on a certain topic and then set this compilation forth as the guide. What she said on the mind can be a guide to psychiatric practice. A compilation of her statements on child-rearing take the place of Dr. Spock in the Adventist home. Computers open up all sorts of possibilities for books like these on what Adventists should believe and do. Currently series of meetings called “Testimony Countdown” are held in the churches to encourage church members to read and meditate on what Mrs. White has said.

Adventist literature displays the slavish use of her comments to support almost any point the writer wishes to make. The method is like that of the dogmatist who artfully manipulates Bible texts to support his own views. The church paper, the Review and Herald, is filled with sentences and paragraphs from the pen of Mrs. White. Adventists are to accept all such statements as being a product of inspiration; thus they must go unchallenged.

The Adventists face the challenge of accepting the fallibility of Mrs. White while at the same time preserving the church’s commendable characteristics. This predicament simmers in the minds of many and threatens to erupt in a rift-creating encounter. Let us hope that extremes can be avoided and Mrs. White’s contributions can find their rightful place as a historical guide to the church and a source of inspiration to its members.

Genius Afire

Who am I? What am I like? Of what evil am I not capable, in either deed or word or will? But you are good and merciful, Lord. Your right hand reached to the bottom of my heart and emptied out its dregs of death and corruption. All you asked was that I cease to want what I willed, and begin to want what you willed. But where had my free will been hiding during all those years? From what secret cranny did you summon it at a moment’s notice, so I might bend my neck to your easy yoke and my shoulders to your light burden. Christ Jesus, my strength and my redeemer? How good it felt to be done with the delectable trifles of life! Those things 1 had been afraid to let go, it now became a joy to dispense with. You drove them away from me, you who are the true and highest joy. You drove them away and came in yourself with a sweetness beyond all pleasure (though not to flesh and blood), brighter than every light (though the most hidden of all lights), and higher than every honor (but not to those who build up their own). My mind was free at last from the corroding anxiety of running around trying to get somewhere, and continually scratching the itch of lust. I talked to you freely as a child talks to its father, Lord my God, my light, my treasure, and my salvation.—From St. Augustine’s Confessions as translated by Sherwood Eliot Wirt in Love Song (Harper & Row; © 1971). Reprinted by permission.

Stanley G. Sturges is a medical doctor with a practice in Dayton, Ohio, and a psychiatry instructor at the Cincinnati University School of Medicine. He formerly was a Seventh-day Adventist medical missionary in Nepal.

During my time in a prisoner-of-war camp I came to realize the importance of hope. Hope was what sustained us; we expected little from the present but a great deal from the future. Because of the hope we shared there were few suicides in our camp.

But this dimension of hope has been neglected in the free world with its emphasis on physical well-being and economic security. Even in churches, relatively little has been said about Christian hope. Now a painful sense of the meaninglessness of existence, portrayed in much contemporary literature and drama, again brings the concept of hope to our attention. So it was not really surprising that Jurgen Moltmann’s A Theology of Hope (1967) was picked up eagerly and reviewed quickly—and favorably—in popular magazines like Time and Newsweek, even though it was a theological work. With the thoroughness characteristic of many European theologians, Moltmann reinterpreted the whole Bible from the viewpoint of hope, reworking just about every major Christian doctrine around the promise motif.

To theologians and philosophers who question the resurrection of Christ on scientific and philosophical grounds, and to men who assume that they and their fellows have an almost God-like control over the future, Moltmann’s book offers a straightforward challenge to focus again on Christ. Such affirmations as “Jesus meant what he said” and “the resurrection is the key to the understanding of the Bible” seem a clarion call.

Moltmann explains that the hope element is what distinguished Judaism from other religions that also claimed epiphanies. While other religions were preoccupied with the presence of the eternal, the Old Testament is primarily interested in the future and what is promised. Thus Moltmann says the calling of Moses from the burning bush can be properly understood only in the future tense: God reveals himself in the form of promise and in the history that is marked by promise. With this new interpretation, faith once again becomes something dynamic because it is born out of promises and can be defined essentially as hope, confidence, and trust in God, who will remain faithful to his promises.

Moltmann’s hope motif also sheds light on man’s self-understanding. Self-knowledge came for Moses, Isaiah, and Jeremiah as they faced a future opened before them by God. They realized the discrepancy between the divine mission and their own mediocrity and discovered that only as God pointed them to a future could men rise above their mediocrity. Thus, says Moltmann, man learns his human nature not from himself but from the future to which God leads him. As man adjusts to the universal rectifying future of God, he is gripped by the needs around him and in him and may anticipate the redeeming future of being; in the light of the coming justice of God, man becomes open for loving, expending himself to humanize inhuman conditions.

Here is a way to relate the Scriptures to modern society. If hope was the key to what motivated Old Testament people, then it should be the key to our motivation. Theology based on hope is free from all kinds of world views and utopian schemes, for now world history can be experienced in the light of the future of truth. Christians are called upon to point out the difference between a scientific and technical millenarianism, which seeks the end of history in history, and an eschatology of history, which arises from the event of promise in the resurrection. This, to me, seems to be the important and clear message of Moltmann’s hope, as he expressed it in his first book. The world can be changed by Christ, in whom we anchor our hope. This does not mean that the Christian message sanctions the present. Rather, it calls for a break away from the present toward the future. God is not “pie in the sky” or totally removed in the beyond but the One who is coming, and as the coming One he is present.

However, there are some questions that careful readers cannot escape asking—especially since the appearance of Moltmann’s second book, Religion, Revolution and the Future (1969). Is Moltmann overemphasizing hope to the exclusion of other elements, such as fear, that help account for the apostles’ zeal and success? Is not God the God of the past and the present as well as the future? We must not become blind to the fulfilled messianic presence and already fulfilled promises. The church of the future, which Moltmann describes so well by the term Exodus, is also described as the temple of God and as the body of Christ. As we attempt to make the Scriptures speak to our day, the temptation looms to remove more obstacles than necessary and thereby falsify the message. Is this Moltmann’s pitfall?

Is it true that the resurrection is historical only because of its effects, that is, because it produces a history in which one can live and move and opens up an eschatological future? Can one talk about the historicity of the resurrection without mentioning the empty tomb and the bodily resurrection? Moltmann writes: “Only when our own consciousness of history takes the form of a consciousness of mission can the raising of Jesus from the dead be called historic” (p. 202). For centuries the Church may have stressed the historic event of the resurrection without emphasizing adequately the resultant changes in human lives, but disregarding the historical event altogether will make of the resurrection something different from what it was intended to be. Scripture and theology cannot be harmonized in this manner.

Little is gained by sidestepping the issue of historicity. As important as hope is, we dare not attach it to less than the historic data of an empty tomb and eyewitnesses. Moltmann’s refusal to take seriously the question of historicity suggests an attempt to build a socio-ethical structure by capitalizing on the ready-formed sympathies implicit in the name Christian. Under that structure Moltmann seems to give support to radical students at Tübingen, the university where he teaches. Student activist groups there have openly attacked the professors and denounced the New Testament, particularly the death of Christ. Everything in the Bible that is not in line with improving society or outright revolution is, they have said, meaningless and irrelevant. During homiletics seminars they have been known to take over when sermons do not advocate revolution.

Moltmann’s views lend support to these radical students by reviving Hegelianism. Moltmann is guided by an optimistic faith in the future as the standard by which Christianity is to be understood and guided. In his first book this was covered up, but in the second it comes out clearly. God is subject to the process of time. “The God of history is changing into the God of the future” (Religion, Revolution, and the Future, p. 7). Out of this new creation will arise a new being that will put an end to the ambivalence of all created beings between being and non-being. In such a new being God himself will come to his rest (p. 36).

Evangelical Christians are concerned with how the Gospel can bring about needed changes in society. By and large they have felt that, however slow the process may be, society can be changed through individual repentance and conversion. Moltmann, however, advocates revolutionary change. He reasons that, since struggling factions have become tired of appeals to conscience and verbose sermons on morality, totally new ways of producing change have become necessary. He sees new paths to change in a church that demolishes all the barriers men erect between one another. And the way toward this new humane community, he says, is a revolutionary way.

What this reasoning amounts to is an application of the future principle to ethics. If God and Christ have their basic significance in the future, then men’s actions should also be judged by the future. Thus any action that produces the desired result is justified, and the criterion for deciding between violent and non-violent action is the measure of possible transformation. “Any means may be appropriate, but they must be different and better than those of the opposition, if they are to bewilder the opposition,” Moltmann says (p. 145), in language reminiscent of Karl Marx. But the important question is this: If the theology of hope removes all finality from everything present or past and becomes the final word explaining reality, then on what is that final word based? If that final word is a word of God spoken in the past, then the future gets its meaning from the past. But this line of thought reverses Moltmann’s sequence; for him, the past gets its meaning from the future.

Moltmann’s theological program seems to provide a system for a restless generation for whom the state rather than the church provides the key to the future. But, as David Scaer notes (review of Religion, Revolution, and the Future, CHRISTIANITY TODAY, Dec. 19, 1969), “belief in this program demands a naïve, unwarranted, and untested faith in man and his future that completely avoids the ideas of the fall and original sin.” Radical behavior like that of some Tübingen students is quite alarming. But when professors like Moltmann give them theological support, we may expect increasing disruption and even attempts at restructuring the whole theological curriculum along Marxist lines.

Moltmann’s treatment of hope offers many good points. In this light the Bible can be interpreted dynamically and, often, more fully. However, without the historical event of the resurrection as an objective basis for it, hope is betrayed and becomes something less than Christian hope. When the credibility of the written Word of God is undermined, when the Scriptures cease to be considered the revelation of God, and as such normative, then the espousal of highly questionable revolution-oriented solutions may be the next step. As prisoners of war know, any hope will make a difference. Those who embrace revolutionary doctrines may be carried a long way and even be induced to offer their lives for their hope.

What does Christian hope look like? It needs to be in harmony with the Word of Scripture and with the life and death and resurrection of Christ. Only this twofold anchor will safeguard our hope from impatience, unfounded optimism, and recklessness in using unchristlike methods. Positively, such hope will rely fully upon Christ’s victory and his overcoming resurrection life.

Herbert R. Dymale is associate professor of religion at Malone College, Canton, Ohio. He received the Th.M. (Princeton Seminary) and Ph.D. (State University of Iowa). During World War II he was a medic in the German air force and was captured in the Normandy invasion.

Despite what Marshall McLuhan has said—and it is uncommonly difficult to determine precisely what he has said—the major traffic between minds still travels the roadway of the written and the spoken word, and is likely to do so indefinitely. Even without appealing to the basic text, “In the beginning was the Word,” one can confidently say that man was created with a verbal faculty and that this faculty not only provides the best tool for communication but constitutes in some subtle way a definition, in part, of man’s rational nature. To express it quite simply, man and God are word-using beings, and there is nothing in Scripture or in human semantic or linguistic study to suggest that any better basis of communion is inherently possible, at least so long as man is a terrestrial creature. Pictures are useful, as are gestures, diagrams, and examples; but one clear sentence is better than a thousand pictures in transferring an idea from one mind to another.

It may even be true, as some have maintained, that words are not merely the counters by which we reckon ideational quantities but are themselves the things we know. Nonsense, some would say. It makes no difference whether we use a word of Scandinavian derivation and say “sky” or one of French origin and say “ciel.” It is the same object. Precisely: the same object. But is it possible for us to possess an idea—an abstraction—in any container save that of words? The limit of our intellectual activity, the very horizon of our mental habitation, is our vocabulary. We may feel an emotion, point to an object, or smell a smell without words; but we cannot think a thought unless we have the words to think it with.

We do not communicate with words alone, of course. Words without syntax, that is, without organization, convey meanings, but they do not ordinarily make statements. The difference is the ancient one between content and form. Every one of us has just about what Shakespeare had, so far as content (that is, vocabulary) is concerned. Every pianist has the same content Rachmaninoff had—eighty-eight keys. Marble from the quarry Michelangelo used is still available to those who have the urge to carve a statue. Tubes of the same colors Rembrandt used may be bought at any artist’s supply store. But as Browning has Andrea del Sarto say, as he despairingly and enviously looks at a painting by Raphael: “All the play, the insight and the stretch—out of me, out of me!”

The breath of life is breathed into language when the form is created. Literally, this is inspiration.

But what is form? We know that our sense of form lies within, or at least is inseparable from, that mysterious capacity we call the aesthetic sense. We know—I think we know—that an inherent element of that sense is an awareness of the difference between order and disorder, and a built-in preference for the former. No matter how widely separated by space or time, concepts of form (or beauty) possess certain common characteristics, common at least to the degree that order is an element in all. This must be so, for disorder is a non-thing in itself, and exists only as the absence of something that we know. The seeming appeal of disorder in language or thought or art depends entirely upon the shock of violating a remembered kind of order.

Furthermore, at least so far as the form of language is concerned, we know that while our aesthetic sense seems inherently to desire the beauty of order, the precise nature of the order appropriate to language must be learned. Perhaps certain basic features of the form of language, notably rhythm, are not so much learned as possessed innately, and then refined by art: but the pleasure we derive from fine writing is directly related to the quality and quantity of our reading.

So perhaps we may say of literary form—as of all other kinds—that form is that which gratifies an anticipated fulfillment, and that the variety and richness of the anticipation is dependent, in its degree, on the right kind of preparation. We all know how this works in actual experience. We hear a certain piece of music for the first time, and perhaps are pleased by it. If we listen to it again, and if it has sufficient depth of form to merit the term art, we enjoy it more, not because we do not know “how it comes out,” but because we do. We do not avoid the symphony concert that lists our favorite music, on the grounds that we have heard it before. Rather we seek it out, our anticipation keen, explicit, complex, and ready for the satisfaction that form will produce. The same principle applies to great writing. We constantly reread the things we like best because our educated anticipation is bound to be gratified. Hence, the unlearned, the unsophisticated, can gain little gratification from great music, art, or literature, for he anticipates nothing; he is not sufficiently “educated” to be able to anticipate intelligently.

In passing, note that while the gratification of form is the only lasting attraction of writing, it is not the only one. We enjoy it also because it gives us information through content. But information is simply that which gratifies curiosity, as does a detective story. Granted, many “whodunits” are well enough written to provide aesthetic pleasure as well, that is, the enjoyment of form. Normally, however, it would never occur to us to reread a mystery story unless we have forgotten how it comes out.

Also in passing, note that the pleasure of many jokes is that they rely precisely upon not satisfying the anticipated gratification. Hence it is that jokes of one culture are not funny in another, for the frame of reference within which one person comes to anticipate a certain kind of gratification is not familiar to the uninitiated.

That bewildering and much misused word culture cannot be neatly pinned down, but surely we can measure a sizable segment of it by asking: “In how many areas, dimensions, art types, literary traditions, historical periods, bodies of knowledge, emotional experiences, aesthetic patterns is this people immersed, and, as a consequence, in how many ways is this people capable of holding highly educated anticipations to be gratified by the forms of its culture—by its architecture, music, art, literature?”

Once two great traditions, providing the richest possible heritage within which to build educated anticipation, were common to the culture of Western man: the classics and the Bible. Each now has practically disappeared as standard equipment, and there is, so to speak, no orchestra within the sensibility of the modern generation with which to play the great melodies of our traditional culture. Nor is it yet clear whether any adequate substitute has been, or can be, found. Even the delight one can take in the sheer precision of language, the ability of a great writer to provide a form (chiefly a syntactical form) by which it may be said that an idea has oft been thought but ne’er so well expressed, has been eroded by anti-intellectualism and by a deficiency of practice in the art of thinking clearly. Even the least sensuous of the lines of Alexander Pope can give intense pleasure, simply by saying things with supreme economy and precision—but I find that very few of my students are able to experience it.

It is, therefore, small wonder that in these days we are buried beneath tons of words put together in such a way as to provide no slightest aesthetic enjoyment, and with no other purpose than to communicate, by the millions, those bits of information necessary to get through our complex but unbeautiful lives. Small wonder that the power of words is almost a forgotten heritage, and that the instant appeal of pictures—an appeal largely to our curiosity, not to our aesthetic sense—has captured our exclusive attention. Our journalistic age reduces pictures almost entirely to content without form, and most modern novels are popular entirely because of the events they describe, not the way they describe them. Even pop music is enjoyed as much for its pelvic gyrations as its melodic form.

It may seem we have strayed a long way from the topic—the urgent need to enhance the excellence of religious writing in our day. What I have tried to do, however, is to stress, first, the centrality of words as part of our nature, not just as a tool society has in the past found fairly useful; second, to suggest that only the truly literate person can write effectively, for his effectiveness is dependent more on form than on content; and third, to note some of the reasons why writing, not only in religious areas but as a whole, is so enfeebled in our generation.

Let me turn now to a more focused view of the nature and history of the style of religious writing.

As to its nature, I have only to say that religious writing has need, if any kind of writing does, to make use of every possible grace, every aesthetic device, every sinew of rationality, every principle of structure—in short, of every dimension of literary art. This is owing to the nature of the subject. Man needs not only to be informed about religious matters—he needs to be moved; and to be well moved, the mind, the heart, and the spirit must be touched. Surely those of us who believe that the Bible is more than a human book can see how God’s servants who wrote that Book made use of every grace of form in order to force their words not only into the ears but also into the hearts and minds of their readers and hearers. Furthermore, it is in those areas of aesthetic anticipation least esoteric and susceptible to particular and varying cultures that the formal elements are most apparent, notably two: rhythm and image. The vaunted beauty of the King James Version is no mere coloration added by the master verbal painters of the early seventeenth century. The literary qualities of the ancient Hebrew are the kind that may be literally translated without losing the grace and power to move. To say, not that “The divine power maintains benign supervision over my life,” but that “The Lord is my shepherd,” is not to add a grace note to the original but simply to translate literally what David wrote.

In sum, then, my point is that religious literature by its nature must do more than inform. It is not simply exposition. It must, by every means available to the devoted writer, make its entry into the heart through form.

As to the history of religious writing in English, my point is equally simple, though somewhat more extensive. My purpose is obviously not to trace even cursorily the lone and rich heritage of religious writing in our tongue, for many books have not exhausted the topic, but only to suggest a few features of the past as they may be relevant to the present condition of religious writing.

First off, let us remember that despite the wisely held notion of great gaps in understanding between the generations, there has been and is a clear continuity in religious writing, largely, I suppose, because our religious needs do not change. Man was a sinner, and he still is; man fled from God, and he still does; man needed to hear God’s word, and he still does. From Bede to Barth, the problem is the same; the inherent aesthetic and moral potential of man is the same; the spiritual need is the same; the role of language is (with superficial differences) the same. There has been no revolution of sensibility to separate us from Maurice de Sully in the 1190s, or from Latimer, or Hooker, or Donne, or Fuller, or Baxter or Bunyan, or Wesley, or Lewis. What separates us from them is our ignorance of them, and ignorance is a disabling but curable ailment.

Listen first to Bede, in Book II, Chapter xiii of his Ecclesiastical History of the English People. This is a famous passage, describing how the English kingdom of Northumbria was presented for the first time with the Gospel by a missionary named Paulinus. King Edwin called a council of his advisers to decide whether to hear the strange new doctrine, and a pagan priest named Corfi speaks:

O King … I verily declare to you … that the religion we have hitherto held has no virtue or utility in it. For none of your people has applied himself more diligently to the worship of our gods than I; and yet there are many who … obtain greater dignities than I, and are more prosperous in all their undertakings. Now if our gods were good for anything, they would rather assist me, who have been more careful to serve them.

Rarely has the utilitarian view of religion been more sharply expressed. Another adviser then spoke,

The present life of man, O King, seems to me, in comparison of that time which is unknown to us, like to the swift flight of a sparrow through the room wherein you sit at supper in winter, with your commanders and retainers, and a good fire in the midst, whilst the storms of rain and snow prevail abroad; the sparrow, I say, flying in at one door and immediately out at another, whilst he is within, is safe from the wintry storm; but after a short space of fair weather, he immediately vanishes out of your sight, into the dark winter from which he had emerged. So this life of man appears for a short space, but of what went before, or what is to follow, we are utterly ignorant. If, therefore, this new doctrine contains something more certain, it seems justly to deserve to be followed.

The two speeches were remarkably successful, for (Bede tells us) Edwin immediately gave his decision in favor of the new religion, and Corfi, the priest, with his followers, went straightway to their temple and demolished it.

Note the two characteristics of the style: rhythm (which is strikingly apparent in the original Old English; faintly perceptible even in translation) and imagery. There is another feature, too, and that is simplicity—reminding us of Milton’s dictum that the essential elements of style are simplicity and sensuousness. Note, too, that the appeal of form through imagery is based, as form must always be, on anticipated gratification. In this case the anticipation is grounded in the hearers, familiarity with the natural world about them—the sense of the comfort of the mead hall in winter; the forlornness of the sparrow outside, momentarily flying in at one open end of the hall; the dark mystery of the world outside the door, and even the greater mystery of the dark universe beyond the dimly lighted door of this earth.

It is precisely these ingredients that pervade and quicken the style of the Old Testament as supremely revealed in the King James Version, a translation, remember, notable for its literal rendering of the images of the Hebrew original. How penetrating are the physical images that permeate the ancient Hebrew—“the sweat of the brow,” “a broken reed,” “weighed and found wanting,” to smite “hip and thigh,” “the skin of the teeth.” And, transcendently, images drawn from the life and work of the shepherd.

Note that this endless array of images is not needed in order to communicate, rationally, the content of the message. The thought that God protects does not rationally need the parallelism, “the sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night,” but the power of form does. Consider the poignance of the message of Ecclesiastes: “And the doors shall be shut in the streets, when the sound of the grinding is low …,” and “… the strong men shall bow themselves, and the grinders cease because they are few, and those that look out of the windows be darkened.”

But this, you may say, is poetry, and we expect a heavy load of formal paraphernalia there. Consider, then, a mere narrative—the killing of Sisera by Jael: “At her feet he bowed, he fell, he lay down; at her feet he bowed, he fell; where he bowed, there he fell down dead.” The expository content is simple: he died. But the writer skilled in giving life to words (so that they bleed when cut, in Luther’s phrase) is as concerned with how he writes as with what he says. It is not enough to condemn idleness abstractly, much more powerful to say, “yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep,” and destruction comes upon us. “We walk in darkness, we grope for the wall like the blind.” “Thou makest us a byword among the heathen, a shaking of the head among the people.”

When religious writers ceased from being steeped in the King James Version, their writing grew pale and thin.

Calvin D. Linton is professor of English literature and dean of Columbian College, The George Washington University, Washington, D.C. He holds the A.B. from George Washington and the A.M. and Ph.D. from Johns Hopkins.

I recently gave the commencement address at Asbury College in Wilmore, Kentucky. A year ago this Methodist-oriented school experienced a spiritual awakening whose effects continue to be felt around the world. Some months ago a group of Asbury students shared their testimonies with us during a devotional period at CHRISTIANITY TODAY. The freshness and vitality of their witness was impressive. Signs continue to point toward a spiritual revival in the United Methodist Church, and tens of thousands of evangelicals are praying and working to that end.

I’m pleased to announce the coming of Henry De Weerd as our circulation manager. He has a B.S. in business administration from Indiana University and a diploma in broadcast engineering technology from Moody Bible Institute, plus certificates for various courses at which an editorial mind can only wonder (what might he have learned at Crypto Repair School? at Tropospheric Scatter School in Anchorage, Alaska?). We gladly entrust to his care those equally inscrutable machines in our fulfillment department and the staff members who keep them happy and humming. Mr. De Weerd comes to us from WMBI, the radio station of Moody Bible Institute, where he was assistant manager. We welcome him, his wife, and their two small children to the magazine family.

A friend from western Pennsylvania sent along a clipping from the Youngstown Vindicator, since the story had a news-service tag, it no doubt has been widely distributed. The friend sent the clipping somewhat in the spirit of “what do you think about this?” I have done my best but I still don’t know what to think about it.

The scare headline reads, “Drugs, Sex, Violence Empty U. of Miami Dorms,” and the story pretty well fits the headline. “Drug parties, armed robberies and sex attacks have started an exodus from dormitories at the University of Miami,” the writer says. After commenting on the financial loss to the university with the emptying of 500 rooms, a cost estimated at $137,000 a semester (no small item, which may bring officials to stern attention), the writer then gets more specific on the personal level: “In one month this year, five coeds were threatened with rape or murder. One faced a masked gunman.” The one who faced the gunman reported, “This is ridiculous. This is supposed to be our home.”

The editor of the campus newspaper “called Eaton Hall, a dorm from which he moved, ‘a pig sty,’ ” and continued, “You can walk down the halls of some dorms and get stoned just smelling the marijuana. The students are so well-protected you can’t do anything about it.” And again from the student editor, “Most students are afraid to say anything about what goes on in the dorms. They just move out.”

In answer to all this criminality the dean of men, Dr. William Sandler, is reported to have said, “There is a permissive atmosphere in the dormitories that does not work for all students.” Brave words, indeed! What else is new?

What is reported so clearly from this school is not, unfortunately, unparalleled elsewhere. This kind of thing, though probably not typical, can certainly be said to be widespread, so far uncontrolled, and probably spreading. The whole scene raises serious questions about the state of our nation and its future dependence on the graduates of our institutions of higher learning. What are they learning there? In the classrooms, and also in the general presuppositions on which behavior of men and women in society rests, there seems to be a fearful climate in which everything can decay. Serious questions in all this continue to bother me.

Is it seriously believed in educational circles that there really are people who do not need the controls, the threats, and the punishments of the law? We hear much criticism of anything that sounds like in loco parentis; dismissing that “outmoded” approach to things, we end up with some idea of freedom for people between eighteen and twenty-five that puts them above or beyond the law. They are to be treated as “adults” now. Would that they were. Some of them certainly appear to commit adult crimes; the trouble is that when these crimes become evident, then these same young people cannot be treated as any criminal adults should be treated in any society anywhere. Now they are the “dear young people,” up to mischief indeed—but everyone knows that “boys will be boys” and that in the spring “the tides of life run high.”

One university that had a peck of trouble on all levels of crime revealed at one stage of the game that 16,000 of the university students were living in housing in the community under no university control whatsoever. How can one keep his sanity thinking about a community of “adults” or “young people” without any controls of the law, no police power, no discipline? What has the whole history of civilization been about if not, at least, about how to control evil-doers so that the arts and sciences, pursued in a framework of decent behavior among men, may get on with the civilizing process? One university group on the West Coast has cut itself off from the powers of the surrounding community. Just who do these people think they are?

Do the universities want to keep their own houses in order, or do they want the state to step in? The old battles between town and gown have never been settled in theory and have had a long history of confusion in practice. The universities have wanted an autonomy by which they take care of their own. If they plan to take care of their own, then they must do so. The editor of the University of Miami Hurricane—a student, not a hardhat—said, “The students are so well protected you can’t do anything about it.” Protected by whom? And why protected? If it is a matter of freedom, then what of the freedom of those about whom the student editor said, “Most students are afraid to say anything about what goes on in the dorms. They just move out.” Now then, if the university is protecting freedom, just when, in the name of common sense, is it going to protect the freedom of those who want nothing more than to live in the dormitories free from the threat of rape or murder? If the universities have neither the machinery nor the courage to protect the law-abiding, then they must summon outside aid. What a pity when universities will neither keep order nor call upon the forces of order.

Do the higher educators believe that men are sinners needing to be reborn, or do they believe that men are basically nice and only need encouragment? Both William Temple and General MacArthur (and there’s a team for you!) said that “all our problems are theological ones.” The Old Testament is pretty plain on all this, and the writings of Paul make clear the necessity of the restraints of the law. We can’t quite duck behind “gentle Jesus meek and mild.” He said it: “It were better a millstone be hung about his neck and he be drowned in the depths of the sea.…” Who? The man who causes one of these little ones to stumble.

The dean of men at the University of Miami admits that the permissive atmosphere in the dorms “does not work for all students.” How true. Now then, let’s get at what needs to be done where the permissive attitude doesn’t work so that students who are self-disciplined and self-motivated may have the freedom to pursue their studies. There are other institutions for those who aren’t ready for university life. A reform school? A prep school? A nursery, maybe?

While anti-war demonstrators burned the American flag and waved the Viet Cong one at such places as the Justice Department and the grounds of the U. S. Capitol last month, a cadre of America’s choice military men were making a stout defense of what they believe is right about the nation.

During the forty-sixth national convention of the Military Chaplains Association, the chaplains clearly were for God, flag, and country—usually in that order.

Earlier, a letter to the magazine of the MCA (which seeks to represent America’s 10,000 or so active and reserve chaplains), the Military Chaplain, was addressed to the Militant Chaplain. The letter came from Clergy and Laymen Concerned About Vietnam, largest of the church-related peace organizations that regularly protest in Washington, D. C.

The typographical error may not have been too wide of the mark, judging from religious fervor evident at the chaplains’ Washington meeting.

Most of the several hundred military chaplains of all faiths who met during the finale of the Mayday protest were disturbed by what was going on outside. These chaplains knew—more than most of the protesters—that the war in Southeast Asia is dehumanizing. But they obviously didn’t feel America had gone as far down the drain as the demonstrators claimed.

“Contrary to what some of our citizens, including some politicians, are trying to project, America is not a warlike nation,” boomed the MCA’s executive director, Karl B. Justus. “But in two short centuries we have often been called on to defend our freedoms, as well as the freedoms of others who wish to remain free. As peace-loving people the choices have often been difficult, but millions of Americans have never failed to rise to the defense of freedom—and the blood and supreme sacrifice of countless Americans attest to this. We want freedoms for all, but all who want freedoms must be willing to share equal responsibilities. Freedom is not free.…”

Last year, Justus, who is editor of the Military Chaplain, led a bombastic campaign through an editorial entitled “Tell It to Hanoi.” Sparked partially by the hard-hitting editorial, many reserve and retired MCA members across the country stimulated their churches to raise a concerted appeal about the prisoner-of-war situation.

This year the MCA passed a resolution addressed to Hanoi and points north, President Nixon, Congress, and anyone else who might pay it heed:

“Whereas there are now more than 1,700 Americans held prisoner of war or missing in Southeast Asia, some of them for more than seven years: Be it resolved that the MCA … persists in witness and work, prayers and petitions, on their behalf and that of their families.” The resolution then enlarged, saying that the MCA’s concern “embraces all engaged in or victims of war throughout the world, wars which we earnestly hope will be soon resolved with justice for all.”

The action called upon all the high signatory powers to comply with the provisions of the Geneva Conventions, particularly for repatriation of the seriously sick, wounded, or incapacitated, the humane treatment of all retained, and information about and fuller communication with all prisoners.

Justus tried to make it clear that despite their dual military-ecclesiastical role, the chaplains are not warmongers. “I am sure that every one of us here, in our military ministry, is dedicated first and foremost to peace, but the trouble with some of our citizens who want peace at any price is that their minds are like concrete—thoroughly mixed and permanently set.”

The convention, chaired by Dr. Edward L. R. Elson, chaplain of the U. S. Senate and a strong supporter of the Truman Doctrine of containing Communism, came at a time when the chaplaincy is under strong attack, particularly by the New Left and by many in the peace movement.

A writer said in the Christian Century recently that “the chaplain is part of a dehumanizing process in the military” and is a front man prohibited from giving any religious indoctrination.

This made Justus fighting mad. “The chaplain and the military chaplaincy are performing an indispensable ministry, and neither can ever be adequately replaced by any proposed civilianization of the chaplaincy,” he said. “They [civilians] can’t identify.”

Fortunately, it would seem, the paths of Justus and protest leaders Abbie Hoffman and Rennie Davis never crossed during the Mayday demonstrations.

Someone surely would have had to call a chaplain.

It Rained On Mcintire’S Victory Parade

Radio preacher-politician Carl McIntire blamed the weather and “fear of hippies” for the poor turnout at his prowar “March for Victory” in Washington last month.

The skies were indeed overcast as McIntire strode down Pennsylvania Avenue in front of a mixed multitude that included hard hats, Ku Klux Klansmen, John Birch Society leafleteers, students from Christian schools, “Free Calley” petitionists, and church members who seemed to believe that a military victory in South Viet Nam is a necessary tenet of fundamentalist faith.

And dozens of long-haired leftovers from anti-war demonstrations earlier did drop by to listen to McIntire and others at the rally on the Washington Monument grounds. But, except for two arrested in a hassle with hard hats, they were peaceful. Many, in fact, seemed more interested in having rally supporters answer questions about God and the Bible than in arguing politics.

McIntire had told the press he expected “many more than the hippies had” at the April 24 war protest, which drew about 200,000. But despite weeks of passionate appeals to the readers of his 135,000-circulation Christian Beacon and to listeners of his daily broadcasts over more than one hundred stations, relatively few showed up. Police estimated 14,000. CHRISTIANITY TODAY, however, counted only 5,200 marchers—slightly higher than a Washington Post body count—plus several hundred who went directly to the rally location.

Fewer than two dozen Shelton College students were in the march, lending credence to press reports of the student body’s growing disenchantment with Shelton’s president. (Reliable sources say that only 10 per cent of the school’s faculty and students plan to be around when the school reopens in the fall at McIntire’s Florida headquarters. See May 7 issue, page 36.)

Rinus What’S-His-Name

Israel doesn’t exist, according to the Arab countries. One consequence of these political blinders is that Israel doesn’t appear on a map of the Near East used in Arabic schools. Rivers suddenly stop, streets end—and the void begins.

Dutch theologian H. Mulder at the Near East School of Theology in Beirut discovered some other side-effects of the non-Israel mentality. He failed to receive a certain issue of a Dutch theological monthly. The Lebanon post-office had rejected it, he later learned, because it was devoted to Israel.

The observing professor chuckled over still another find: the caption under a picture of the Dutch soccer team Feyenoord, which won the world cup last year. All players were fully listed except one, Rinus Israel, a full-blooded Amsterdammer.

He was simply “Mr. Rinus.”

JAN J. VAN CAPELLEVEEN

Some marchers had mixed feelings. One member of the Miami-based “Agape” singing group said: “I dig Jesus, man, not this politics trip. Sure, I want us to win in Viet Nam, but right now it’s more important for us to turn this country to God.” Several young marchers discarded “Peace by Victory” placards and joined an ancient man with a long beard in a sort of counterprotest near the speaker’s platform. The man held up a huge sign that quoted: “Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord,” and “Seek ye first the kingdom of God.”

McIntire meanwhile appealed to President Nixon to “wield the sword” to win the war and put down Communism in Southeast Asia. Among those addressing the crowd were congressmen John Rarick (D.-La.), a Liberty Lobbyist, and John Schmitz (R.-Calif.), a Birchite. Telephone calls of support from Alabama governor George Wallace and Georgia lieutenant governor Lester Maddox were channeled through the loudspeakers, but a call from South Vietnamese vice-president Nguyen Cao Ky didn’t get through. The State Department allegedly prevented Ky from addressing a similar rally last October.

The event ended ingloriously as McIntire delivered a stinging rebuke of Nixon’s military withdrawal policies. The heavens opened in a drenching downpour, driving most of the crowd out of earshot.

In another development, McIntire asked the American Council of Christian Churches to settle its suit against him out of court. He offered to leave the ACCC alone in exchange for the title to the ACCC’s International Christian Relief Commission, a major source of funds for McIntire projects (see May 7 issue, page 36). An informant said the ACCC will accept.

EDWARD E. PLOWMAN

New Bible Versions Break Language Barriers

Now the French have their own “today’s version” of the New Testament. The first copies were handed out on April 27 to an illustrious company of French professors and Paris preachers.

This already seems to have become the year of popular Bible translations. The immensely popular Today’s English Version, Good News for Modern Man (28 million copies have been sold worldwide), went into its third printing in an improved text this month.

The Spanish version, a revision of the Latin American Popular Version that sold more than two million copies, went to press in Madrid. And the same type of translation was published in Germany.

The Paris ceremony, sponsored by the French Bible Society, was held in the Grand Palais. A splendid exhibition of Yugoslav art included some of the most beautiful handwritten illustrated Bibles from the eleventh century. VIPs on hand included seven speakers and some Americans: George Clark, publisher of the French edition of Decision magazine; Laton Holmgren, American Bible Society general secretary; David Barnes, director of the European Bible Institute; and George Winston of the new Evangelical Seminary of Vaux.

Speaker François Refoule, a Roman Catholic priest, said: “First, the Bible societies broke through the financial barrier by producing Bibles everybody could pay for. Then they broke through the language barrier by translating the Bible into hundreds of languages. And now they are breaking through the cultural barrier by producing Bibles in the language of the common man.”

The first reaction to this translation was rather good. But some in Bible society circles agreed the book will be far more important for Africa than for Europe. In Africa there already are at least three times as many French-speaking Protestants as in Europe. Most of them have difficulty with the French of the Louis II-period translation. Some Bible societies in Europe contemplate fund drives for a concerted push of this new version in Africa.

The new book costs just over a dollar in France, Switzerland, and Belgium. Bible societies plan to subsidize half the cost in Africa.

Meanwhile, two new Bible translations, approved for both Protestants and Catholics, have gone to press for the people of Thailand, Religious News Service reported. Publication of the Old Testament in Thai completes a translation project started in 1954. The New Testament was issued in 1967. The new versions of the two testaments are the first complete revision of the Scripture in the native language since 1896.

A Popular Version of the New Testament—comparable to the English Good News for Modern Man—has also been completed for early printing and distribution. The translations were initiated by the Thailand Bible House; Catholics joined the project in 1967.

A motivating factor for the Popular Version is to make the New Testament more easily understood by the Buddhist population of Thailand, said to be 97 per cent of the country’s total. The American Bible Society sparked the idea; translation work has been coordinated by the United Bible Societies.

JAN J. VAN CAPELLEVEEN

Missionary Mandate At Home And Abroad

The world must now pay the price of man’s “importunate sacrifices at the grisly altar of Mammon,” says a report presented last month to the Assembly of Evangelicals in London. Commissioned by the Evangelical Alliance in 1968, the 173 pages of findings stoutly face up to crucial issues in a world overflowing, inequitable, urban, revolutionary, and post-colonial (“only the Portuguese and … Russian empires remain”).

The report’s references to race, which it describes as the “accidental” factor, are surprisingly brief. But the assembly resolved later that another commission should promptly tackle that problem.

While the report expresses fear that “the uniqueness of the gospel and its redemptive emphasis may be diluted in pursuit of numerical strength,” it also warns evangelical separatists that “pettiness and bigotry, caused often through disagreements on points of minor doctrinal importance, have made a strange caricature of the Body of Christ.” Other criticisms: Western prejudice has often been exported with missionaries. An Indian complained that his people were now divided into denominations instead of tribes. Many Rhodesian students were convinced that Christianity was a white man’s invention to ensure the perpetual thralldom of Africans. Not bosses but fellow workers were needed in the younger churches.

The report cites also the problem posed when some governments (it gave Indonesia as an example) deal only with WCC-related groups in negotiating the entry of Christian workers.

In presenting the report, commission chairman Morgan Derham said he hoped it would provide a better appreciation of the great size and complexity of the missionary task. Anyone who reads it will agree that it does.

The assembly also welcomed a thorough and thoughtful 126-page report on evangelical strategy in the new towns, into which more than half a million people have gone in the past twenty-five years.

The permissive society was faithfully—if startlingly—thumped by the young headmaster of a girls’ school. If present trends continue, he said, by the time his own three small daughters are between thirteen and eighteen he might expect one to be on mainline drugs, one to have an abortion, and the other to have venereal disease. The assembly agreed that a commission should examine how best to present Christian standards and guidance to schools and parents.

The assembly’s much depleted numbers reflect the withdrawal of more rigid free churchmen (now associated with the British Evangelical Council) and the not unrelated waning of interest among prominent Anglican evangelicals. As one delegate obliquely hinted during the major debate, there is still a tidy work of reconciliation to be done at home.

J. D. DOUGLAS

Testing Tongues

A scientific study of glossolalia concludes that utterances of people tested did not have the characteristics regarded as essential to human language. And in a tape experiment, tongues-speakers were found to disagree on the meaning of what the others said.

The federally financed study showed no appreciable gap between the mental health of active devout churchgoers who speak in tongues and those who don’t. The most significant variable was described as the tendency of tongues-speakers “to be more submissive, suggestible, and dependent in the presence of authority figures.”¹In somewhat of a contrasting finding, the researchers “noted the lack of modesty that was often present in the people who practiced glossolalia.” They were also said to “feel better about themselves” than non-glossolalists. A report on the study added, however, that “it is generally not the speaking in tongues that brings the great feelings of euphoria that these people experience; rather, it is the submission to the authority of the leader.”

A forty-eight-page typewritten summary of the study findings was released. A more detailed analysis will appear in a forthcoming book.

The research project was initiated in 1965 at the Lutheran Medical Center in Brooklyn, New York, by Dr. John P. Kildahl and Dr. Paul A. Qualben. Kildahl is a psychologist and psychoanalyst who directs the pastoral psychology program at New York Theological Seminary. Qualben is a psychiatrist. Both are also Lutheran ministers.

The study was of limited scope and relied almost entirely on empirical data. No attempt was apparently made to assess sociological impacts of tongues-speaking or to weigh theological factors.

Money for the research was provided by the Behavioral Sciences Research Branch of the National Institute of Mental Health. The findings were based largely upon tests and interviews conducted with twenty-six people who spoke in tongues and thirteen who did not. All belonged to “mainline Protestant congregations,” not Pentecostal churches.

Linguist William Samarin, a former Hartford Seminary Foundation professor, helped in the inquiry (see November 24, 1967, issue, page 39). He stated that where certain prominent tongues-speakers had visited, whole groups of glossolalists would speak in his style of speech. “So again,” the report declared, “the leader was important not only in inducement of the experience, but also in the way in which it was carried out.”

The report added that several persons who had stopped speaking in tongues were inadvertently interviewed in the study and it was found “that the crucial factor in stopping the practice was a ‘falling out’ with the authority figure who had introduced them to glossolalia.”

The researchers stated flatly that the ability to yield ego control in the presence of the authority figure is indispensable to speaking in tongues, and that this ability is the same general trait found in people who can be hypnotized.

The report listed features that linguistic experts say characterize human language and argued that recordings of people speaking in tongues did not display enough of these features to warrant the conclusion that the utterances were any kind of human language, known or unknown, living or dead. They said the utterances did possess “phonological structure” and tongues-speakers were observed talking “fluently.”

The report said “there was no similarity in the interpretation of the various ‘interpreters.’ One interpreter said the tongues-speaker was praying for the health of his children; another interpreter would report the same speech to be an expression of gratitude to God for a recently successful church fund-raising effort. The most common interpretations were general statements that the speaker was thanking and praising God for many blessings.”

DAVID E. KUCHARSKY

British Union In Sight

A merger between the Congregational Union of England and Wales and the Presbyterian Church of England seemed probable after the annual assemblies voted on the issue last month. With each body requiring a 75 per cent majority in favor, the Congregationalists achieved 89, the Presbyterians 79.

The scheme must now be ratified at congregational level. The projected new body, to be named the United Reformed Church, will have a membership of just under 250,000.

Catholic Editor Fired

Robert G. Hoyt, Catholic layman and founder of the controversial National Catholic Reporter, has been fired as editor of that magazine. The action came on the heels of a drawn-out conflict between him and the Reporter’s publication board.

The magazine has long engendered criticism for its outspokenness on matters of Catholic dogma and organization. Designed “to serve a new generation of Catholics”—to use the founder’s words—the Reporter provided a forum for those in favor of abortion, birth control, a redefinition of papal authority, a married priesthood, and even neo-pentecostalism. “All our basic beliefs have been questioned,” lamented publisher Donald J. Thorman. He said he has not decided whether to seek a new editor.

Only five years after the Reporter was founded, circulation rose to a peak of 95,000. In 1971, two years later, it had dropped to 50,000. To make matters worse, Hoyt, 49, along with seventy-five other church figures, was arrested a month ago during an anti-war demonstration near the White House. Some observers think that incident prompted Hoyt’s firing.

“They wanted me to resign presumably to avoid unpleasantness and let me save face. But I chose to be fired because a resignation would not have reflected my real feelings,” Hoyt explained.

Frank Brennan, president of the publishing board, said the board “wanted to improve declining circulation by bringing back many of those who have left us and who have a strong commitment to the church.”

JAMES S. TINNEY

Self-Help For Kohos

A unique vocational-training center for the Koho-speaking Montagnards was dedicated last month just outside Dalat, Viet Nam. The tribesmen previously have had to rely on the Vietnamese for skilled labor.

A large industrial-arts building to handle 200 students is completed. Carpentry, mechanics, metal, sewing, and home-economics skills are taught, and courses in barbering, shoe repair, tailoring, and storekeeping will be added soon. Four dorms are expected to be finished this year.

A prime goal of the center is to improve the economic and domestic life of the Koho community. The project has been sponsored jointly by the National Church of Viet Nam, the Christian and Missionary Alliance, and the National Association of Evangelicals’ World Relief Commission. Planners hope that within three years the final stage will be achieved: self-support through employee production of goods and services.

DAVID F. HARTZFELD

Vice Has Grip On Market

In a period when many industries have suffered declining profits, cigarettes and beer remain two of the most profitable products for companies to make.

Profits after taxes for the eight largest cigarette and cigar manufacturers amounted to a 14.2 per cent return on stockholders’ invested capital in 1969, the Federal Trade Commission said, compared with 13.9 per cent the year before. After-tax profits of the twelve largest brewing companies were 12.8 per cent in 1969 compared with 12.5 per cent in 1968.

Manufacture of distilled liquor is not quite so profitable because of the large stocks of aging whiskey carried in inventory, but profits of the twelve largest distilleries increased to 7.9 per cent on invested capital in 1969 compared with 7.6 per cent in 1968.

Drug and medicine manufacture remained by far the most profitable industry in America with after-tax profits of 19.9 per cent in 1969, an increase of .4 per cent from 1968. Ranking behind it were office machines, air conditioners and pumps, and cigarettes.

GLENN EVERETT

Religion In Transit

Major parochaid bills have been defeated and can be considered dead this year in Arizona, Colorado, Indiana, Kansas, Missouri, Montana, New Mexico, North and South Dakota, and Michigan, according to Americans United. Parochaid has passed in Maryland and Georgia (tuition vouchers), Vermont (parochial-school aid by local school districts), and Minnesota (state income-tax rebates and tuition grants). Still pending at mid-month were Illinois, New York, Texas, Wisconsin, Delaware, California, and Oklahoma.

An estimated $6 million was collected by tens of thousands of young people in 160 cities who walked hundreds of thousands of miles on the May 8–9 weekend to raise funds to combat hunger and help the poor. American Lutheran clergyman David Brown, who heads the sponsoring American Freedom From Hunger Foundation, said church youth groups played a key role.

As a result of a suit against alleged compulsory attendance at chapel services in U. S. military academies, the Air Force Academy has issued a new ruling permitting all cadets to attend churches of their choice instead of chapel. Annapolis middies have an additional option: attend a study group on ethics or morals taught by staff.

The Cesar Chavez-run United Farm Workers Organizing Committee received about $81,000 of $586,000 in grants from the U. S. Roman Catholic Church’s Campaign for Human Development launched last November.

The National Office of Black Catholics—which said last November it wouldn’t take “one penny” of $150,000 offered by the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops (the NOBC had asked $659,000) accepted the money after all last month.

The United Methodist Church will have made available $35 million between 1968 and the end of 1971 for minority group empowerment and self-determination.

The evangelical United Methodist group, Forum for Scriptural Christianity, has appealed through three theologically conservative spokesmen to the denominational curriculum planners for more educational material for “Wesleyan evangelicals.”

Planners of the All-Mennonite Consultation on Evangelism, Probe ’72, slated for next spring, are having to rethink their site selection. Some of the brethren who embrace simple life styles have objected to the plush quarters of Chicago’s Conrad Hilton Hotel, one of the city’s few hostelries with hall facilities for 2,000 people.

To show concern for peace and reconciliation, students from Eastern Mennonite College and high school in Harrisonburg, Virginia, trekked to Washington, D. C., for a weekend to clean up the Mayday encampment site of antiwar radicals in West Potomac Park.

Berkeley (California) Free Church pastor Dick York announced that “an intimidating group of motorcycle toughs with a penchant for fistfights” had forced the hippie church to close down, the San Francisco Chronicle reported.

Number Three, by Ken Anderson Films, was named the best movie of the year by the National Evangelical Film Foundation of Glenside, Pennsylvania. For the first time the foundation gave a “Christian Oscar Award” to a Catholic group: the Medical Mission Sisters for their folk album called “Seasons.”

Personalia

National Religious Broadcasters president Eugene R. Bertermann has been named executive director of the Far East Broadcasting Company and is stationed at the organization’s Whittier, California, headquarters.

Evangelical editor and freelance writer Phil Landrum of Carol Stream, Illinois, has been chosen the new editor of the Christian Teacher, a periodical associated with the National Association of Christian Schools.

Senator Mark O. Hatfield (R.-Ore.) was scheduled to be the main speaker at this month’s graduation ceremonies at Princeton Seminary.

Former BBC journalist Derek Tipler has bought a second-hand caravan and joined a band of gypsy musicians, and says he’s going to spend the rest of his life on the road translating the Bible into the gypsy language Romanes. Tipler, 41, a Welshman of gypsy descent, speaks four languages in addition to several dialects of Romanes and knows Hebrew and Greek.

The Reverend Tom Harpur, professor of New Testament at Wycliffe College, a well-known seminary of the Anglican Church in Canada, has resigned to become religion editor of the Toronto Daily Star.

Dr. David L. Stitt, president of Austin (Presbyterian) Seminary in Texas since 1945, has resigned to become associate pastor of Houston’s First Presbyterian Church, second largest in the Southern Presbyterian denomination.

Episcopalians of Washington, D. C., elected the black canon of Washington Cathedral as their suffragan bishop last month. John T. Walker, 50, is the third bishop of his race now serving a domestic Episcopal diocese.

The thickset, bearded United Church of Christ clergyman who is paid to organize Marxist-Christian dialogue on the Stanford University campus may lose his job. The United Ministry in Higher Education, a Protestant combine in northern California that funds Joseph Hardegree, 35, is recommending a $7,000 amputation for Stanford’s United Campus Christian Ministry next year.

World Scene

Jewish evangelist Morris Cerullo will lead a four-day evangelistic crusade in Pusan this August; half a million Koreans are expected.

The Christian Democrats, Chile’s largest political party, have declared qualified support of President Salvatore Allende’s Socialist government “in everything that contributes to the national interest.” Eighty Catholic priests there also pledged support for Allende. Meanwhile, Religious News Service reported indications of “an upswing in ecumenism throughout Chile.”

In an apostolic letter issued last month Pope Paul VI called on Christians to become actively involved in social and political problems. He urged that Christian ideals be applied in tackling them. Urbanization is one of the worst modern problems, he said.

A shock report on drug abuse in Ireland reveals that drug addiction has increased eightfold in an eighteen-month period.