In the second of two on-scene reports, News Editor David E. Kucharsky surveys the state of Protestantism in the Soviet satellites of Eastern Europe:

Aboard a train traveling from Bucharest to Budapest a young Rumanian worker hummed merrily the theme of American TV’s “Bonanza.” “It’s my favorite program,” he said.

A few days before, President Johnson had announced steps toward a major expansion of trade with the Communist countries of Eastern Europe. Prospects for friendlier relations brightened, despite continuing differences over Viet Nam.

All of this raised the possibility of lowering barriers that have isolated these countries from outside Christian influence for more than a generation. In Bucharest you can now buy Kodak film and Winston cigarettes. Why not Rumanian-language Bibles, Protestant literature, and records of sacred music?

Rumania might even be a good place to start urging authorities for such outlets. There seems to be an openness to the West not evident in the Soviet Union, nor even in Czechoslovakia, Hungary, or Poland. Rumania may quietly be looking for a big new friend, since the Soviet Union enjoys something less than peak popularity there and Communist boss Nicolae Ceaucescu avoids taking sides in the split between Moscow and Peking.

“Stay here a year and visit a new church every day,” a tourist guide trumpets in Bucharest. Sure enough—there are 365 churches in the city. The absence of a Soviet-style campaign to turn them into museums may be a solid indication of residual religious interest. Another symptom—the sight of an attractively dressed young woman wearing a dainty cross necklace.

The handful of Protestant churches in Bucharest are all small, plain buildings, in contrast to the many cathedral-like Orthodox and Roman Catholic structures. But for the years ahead, Rumanian Protestants have something more important going for them—their concept of church-state separation and, in many cases, congregational polity. The state-church orientation of Orthodoxy and Roman Catholicism spells all sorts of complications under a Communist system. Communist authorities fear the potential competitive power inherent in state church and connectional systems.

The problem is well illustrated in Bucharest, where the parliament shares a picturesque hilltop overlooking the city with the Orthodox Patriarch’s home and the city’s most prestigious church. Any appreciable increase in Orthodox strength or vitality will surely be viewed with misgivings.

Protestants have little more than a foothold in Czechoslovakia, despite the great heritage of Jan Hus, fifteenth-century Reformer whose Bethlehem Chapel has been restored in the Old City of Prague. Most of Prague’s 120 churches are Roman Catholic or Orthodox. But Dr. Arnold T. Olson, president of the Evangelical Free Church of America, says Protestant congregations there are healthy. After a visit to Czechoslovakia several weeks ago, Olson said that “while working under some restrictions, the congregations enjoy more freedom now than at any time since the socialist state was founded.”

Rumania, Czechoslovakia, Yugoslavia, Bulgaria—even East Germany and the Soviet Union—have been readily granting visas to American churchmen and newsmen. Poland and Hungary are a bit more reluctant, and Albania is out of bounds for all U.S. citizens.

The attitude of Hungarian and Polish authorities toward churchmen and newsmen is probably attributable in part to continuing problems with their respective Roman Catholic cardinals. Church-state tensions in Poland have been at a high level all year because of Christian millennium celebrations and periodic pokes at the Communist authorities by Cardinal Wyszynski.

Hungarian officials are embarrassed by the continuing presence of Cardinal Mindzenty, who took the anti-Communist side during the 1956 revolution and has been holed up in the American legation in Budapest ever since. Protestants, however, may be gaining a freer hand. The Hungarian Evangelical Lutheran Church announced recently it is planning its first synod meeting since World War II.

Protestants interested in gaining influence in Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union will have to decide between “underground evangelism” and quiet negotiations with authorities. The surreptitious method lends itself to a more dramatic appeal, martyrdom, and some phony exploitation.

Official concessions from face-to-face confrontation with Communist officials require much harder work, infinite patience, and a profound sense of diplomacy and strategy. Brinkmanship may also play a part in such negotiations, and some persons may get hurt. But there is growing evidence that under the non-Chinese brand of Communism today, the open-appeal method will be more effective over the long haul.

Not An Echo

An organization increasingly critical of “new evangelicals” assembled in Charleston, South Carolina, the same night that the “new” breed’s World Congress on Evangelism opened in Berlin (story above).

The first night of the twenty-fifth anniversary meeting of the fundamentalist, anti-Communist American Council of Christian Churches drew only ninety-seven persons. But attendance was expected to pick up considerably for the closing rally featuring Dr. Carl McIntire, predominant personality of the ACCC.

The ACCC was organized in September, 1941, with McIntire as first president. It was formed as a conservative counterpart to the Federal (now National) Council of Churches, which had great leverage in such areas as publicity, appointment of military chaplains, and distribution of visas for foreign missionaries.

In later years, conservative Protestants who generally agreed with the ACCC in theology but were less separatist in strategy formed the National Association of Evangelicals, Billy Graham’s organization, and other groups. Today the ACCC claims a constituency of two million; but perhaps more important than the formal membership list is the amorphous congregation that hears McIntire’s “Twentieth Century Reformation Hour” every day on a reported 630 radio stations.

The ACCC just opened a Southern office in Atlanta and plans field offices in the Midwest and West. Although few persons below middle age were evident in Charleston, the ACCC youth arm last month fielded the first issue of a sixteen-page monthly, Reformation, aimed at college conservatives.

McIntire also drew an impressive turnout at the state capitol in Harrisburg recently to protest a Pennsylvania House resolution that criticized McIntire’s attacks on the National Council of Churches. McIntire said twelve to sixteen thousand persons attended the “Second Convocation for Religious Freedom”; Religious News Service estimated 5,500.

Although sounds of segregation crackle when McIntire’s Southern supporters congregate, McIntire says the ACCC is open to anyone who believes. General Secretary John Millheim is trying to enlist Negro churches in Philadelphia and Chicago.

After hearing Dr. David Otis Fuller—businessman and fellow board member with Graham at Wheaton (Illinois) College—blast the “new evangelicals,” and making his own speech, McIntire planned to fly to Berlin to watch the new evangelicals firsthand. When McIntire’s weekly Christian Beacon last month carried the headline, “World Congress on Evangelism will exclude anti-Communists,” World Congress Chairman Carl F. H. Henry suggested McIntire pass up the overcrowded Kongresshalle and march in protest to the Berlin Wall.

A Plea For Separation

The opening address at Britain’s National Assembly of Evangelicals last month caused quite a stir. Martyn Lloyd Jones, famous preacher of London’s Westminster Chapel, said evangelicals should now leave the major denominations and form a new united church.

After the impassioned plea, Chairman John R. W. Stott, noted Anglican evangelical leader, replied that both Scripture and history were against Lloyd Jones. Earlier, Stott’s brief talk on unity had stressed biblical faith, mutual recognition of ordination and sacraments, and openness to various beliefs and practices in matters of secondary importance.

‘Black Power’ In Church

With low but audible murmurs of “Amen, Amen, Amen,” forty-eight United Church of Christ ministers called on their denomination to “renew itself as a community committed to a kingdom without caste.”

The resolution came after a two-day consultation on racial problems in the predominantly white denomination, concluded October 20 in Washington, D. C. The meeting also formed a “watchdog group” to press for the end of racial discrimination in the UCC, which has two million members.

Most of the UCC’s Negro pastors attended and said they would mobilize the potential “black power” in their congregations to help achieve a multiracial, multi-class society within the church.

Earlier, the clergymen heard C. Shelby Brooks, executive secretary of the Rockefeller Fund for Theological Education, say that both Negro clergymen and the “white power structure” of the churches were to blame for keeping Negroes from the centers of denominational power and decision-making.

O. WILSON OKITE

… Like An Adventist Should

After a five-year comparison of Seventh-day Adventists in California with the rest of the Smog State’s population, the U. S. Public Health Service and American Cancer Society report SDA members have one-sixth as many deaths from lung cancer and one-third as many from respiratory disease.

The American Medical Association Journal says SDA’s no-smoking rule appears to be the only reason for the difference. Adventists also abstain from alcohol and caffeine, hold other dietary strictures, and stress health in general, but the study said their death rate from other diseases is about the same as that for other Californians.

An upcoming report on a study of 42,000 families by the National Center for Health Statistics reportedly will provide important new evidence against smoking and reveal a jump in all cigarette-linked diseases since 1950.

Ecumenism In Education

The Christian education board of the Presbyterian Church U. S. (Southern) voted to merge its campus ministries into the five-denomination United Campus Christian Fellowship. Plans are complete for a “Uniform Lesson Series” with the United Presbyterian Church and the United Church of Christ. The board will also ask the next General Assembly to liberalize the requirement that John Knox Press authors be in the “evangelical Christian tradition” so that Roman Catholics and Jews can be added.

United Presbyterian and United Church laymen “will soon be studying the same lessons about the meaning of the Christian faith and how Christianity functions in the world” under a unified national program. National staffers will also help local churches set up their adult education programs.

Pleas for greater coordination and global effort by evangelicals characterized the opening of the World Congress on Evangelism in Berlin. In a stirring speech (page 3), Billy Graham departed from his text to say divisions contribute to the Church’s “tragic confusion” today. Out of the pulpit, the evangelist said the congress meets a long-felt need for world-wide consultation among those who believe in the biblical view of evangelism.

“Where differences of class or race or secondary doctrines or trivial patterns of behavior divide us, I am convinced that the Holy Spirit will be limited in using us for evangelism,” he said.

Twelve hundred delegates and observers from some 100 countries were on hand for the colorful flag procession October 26 at the opening of the ten-day congress. Churchmen from Hungary and Yugoslavia were on hand but other Communist nations refused visas.

Emperor Haile Selassie of Ethiopia made a special six-hour visit to Berlin (his first) during a European tour to throw his support behind evangelism, which he called “a task of paramount importance in this age, as is evidenced by this great assembly of Christian leaders.”

Speaking in emphatic tones in his native Amharic tongue—which was simultaneously translated into four other languages—Selassie came out for religious liberty, and called church unity a “sacred objective” which he hoped would be achieved in our time. (The Ethiopian Orthodox Church of which he is protector belongs to the World Council of Churches.)

But, to the surprise of some conservative delegates, the emperor continued, “We refer to all this only to indicate that this age above all ages is a period in history when it should be our prime duty to preach the Gospel of grace to all our fellow men and women. The love shown in Christ by our God to mankind should constrain all of us who are followers and disciples of Christ to do all in our power to see to it that the message of salvation is carried to those of our fellows for whom Christ our Savior was sacrificed, but who have not had the benefit of hearing the Good News.”

“Arise, and with the spiritual zeal and earnestness which characterized the apostles and the early Christians, let us labor to lead our brothers and sisters to our Savior Jesus Christ, who only can give them life in its fullest sense!”

In his role as opening speaker at the congress, Editor Carl F. H. Henry of CHRISTIANITY TODAY challenged delegates to echo worldwide Christ’s invitation to regeneration.

“Outside of a rediscovery of the Gospel of grace, there now remains no long-range prospect for the survival of modern civilization, but only a guarantee of its utter collapse,” Henry said.

What the Church desperately needs, he observed, is not simply to deplore the evangelistic paralysis of the ecumenical movement but to devote itself aggressively to the right option.

He asked, “Is it too much for men devoted to Jesus Christ to pledge their hearts and lives to a bold new effort to give every man on earth in our time the opportunity to accept or reject the Redeemer?”

“Evangelicals of all lands and races are being drawn together across the ecclesiastical divisions of the recent past,” Henry declared. “Dare we look for inter-racial teams of evangelists who will circuit the earth in courageous confrontation of whole communities and nations torn apart by racial strife?”

He cited as a major weakness of modern Christianity “its abandonment of the heavy burden of evangelism to a small company of professional supersalesmen.”

He lamented that much of the academic world today fails to present the case for Christianity on its merits.

“Communist campuses caricature the Living God,” he said, “while many free-world institutions simply ignore him. For this superficial disengagement from the supernatural world, our civilization already pays a terrible price both in modern thought and life. Another generation, its best minds aware of the reality and truth of redemptive religion, will rise up to judge our superficial age.”

Henry suggested that while the machine age threatened to make man himself a mere impersonal adjunct, the computer age now threatens to dispense with him entirely. “Nazis elevated only the Nordic race to importance; Communists sacrifice the individual to the collectivity; Western materialists reduce man to a machine for multiplying mammon.… In its search for laboratory explanations, the scientific approach to life overlooks individuality in order to emphasize the universal and the predictable and thus minimizes the significance of human decision.”

But the Gospel, he said, reminds all men of an inescapable personal destiny in eternity, and Christ’s redemptive power is still potent in a generation no longer quite sure of human dignity. “By its urgent call to individual regeneration the religion of the Bible stands between the modern man and the daily erasure of his personal meaning and worth.”

In a public prelude to the World Congress on Evangelism, Billy Graham preached at an eight-night crusade at Berlin’s Deutschlandhalle. An average of 10,000 persons turned out each night, with more than 13,000 on closing night, October 23.

Across town at the Kongresshalle, admission had to be restricted to accredited delegates, observers, and newsmen, because of the auditorium’s limited seating capacity. The only public service planned as part of the congress itself was an outdoor Reformation Sunday observance beginning with a procession of delegates to Wittenberg Plaza in the heart of Berlin.

At the twin-tiered Deutschlandhalle, however, there was plenty of room. Berliners flocked to the crusade despite a week of intermittent, chilly rain. Local Christians lent overcoats to World Congress delegates who came unprepared from tropical countries.

The crusade, sponsored by the German Evangelical Alliance, drew wide church support. Berlin’s Bishop Kurt Scharf gave the meetings his blessing in a pulpit appearance at the opening service. His predecessor, aging Bishop Otto Dibelius, also attended and on closing night gave a brief evangelistic message.

German church-goers prefer a restrained type of music, but they want plenty of it. Beside the 500-voice a cappella choir, a 100-piece brass band played. An American musical touch was provided by tenor Jimmy McDonald, whose Negro spirituals made a big hit.

But the most moving sound of the crusade came from neither voice nor instrument. It was the sobering rumble on the wooden floor of those taking steps of commitment. Graham’s quiet invitation at the close of each service had only the accompaniment of those tramping feet. The effect was electric.

YMCA leader Peter Schneider, who has always been Graham’s number-one fan in Berlin, interpreted the evangelist’s messages into German, phrase by phrase. Graham repeatedly cited the confirmation vow taken by countless Germans: “Did you really mean it? Renew that vow now.”

The week after the crusade, Graham announced his next major preaching effort would be a “mission of peace to preach the Gospel” to troops of various nations in Viet Nam. Graham said he would not speak on politics or conduct of the war, and that he would like to preach to Communist Vietnamese if he could get to them. The trip, on invitation of General William Westmoreland, will probably be around Christmas.

Eutychus II bids adieu

Ave Atque Vale

This is a kind of announcement—that this is the last round for Eutychus II. I have it on the authority of Shakespeare that parting is sweet sorrow, and in this day of the worship of paradox “sweet sorrow” just shows how timely Shakespeare is.

They say (and “they say” is probably a greater authority than Shakespeare) that if you have a pain somewhere, a worse one will cover it. In other words, if you really hurt, just think up another hurt and you can forget the first one—if, of course, you can handle the second one. So I have my double hurt. This announcement assures an end, but the more severe hurt is that now all is revealed. As I cease and desist in the writing of this column, I am really hurt by the pain and shame of knowing that so many people will now know who was responsible for all this. I made a couple of bad slips, particularly in athletics, that gave me away to former students. Other people thought they recognized my style. That was nice, because not everybody would agree that I have style. Well, some days were worse than others, but I always managed to hit the deadline.

That reminds me of the story of the little Irish boy whose father took him to market the day they sold the cow. The father had let it be known to the family that he wanted to sell the cow for $75 but would take $50. Imagine the father’s chagrin to hear his boy telling a prospective customer, “My father wants $75 but he’ll take $50.” “If you would keep your mouth shut,” said his father, “people wouldn’t know how stupid you are.” While the father was away doing something else, another man came and asked the price of the cow, and the boy clammed up. The man said, “You’re too stupid to be left in charge of a cow,” as he walked away. When the father came back, the boy was in tears. “I kept my mouth shut,” he said, “but they found out how stupid I am anyway.”

ADDISON H. LEITCH

Relief For Weary Eyes

I found your recent articles on journalism and religion (Crisis in Communication Issue, Oct. 14) a sight for the weary eyes of any religion editor on a newspaper. Although I do not necessarily agree with the theological stance of your magazine, I nevertheless found the articles to be well written, provocative, and enlightening. It is a joy to see some prophetic stance being taken in what must be considered at times a wasteland.

JOHN C. MORGAN

Religion Editor

The Journal

Lorain, Ohio

Thank you for your excellent issue.… One aspect particularly missing in this appraisal of communications trends is the fact that the Christian college campus has no serious program in Christian communications. I had hoped that your magazine with its excellent research know-how would have done some kind of analysis into this area.…

Evangelical Literature Overseas and Evangelical Press Association are joining in a project called EPIC (Evangelical Press in Colleges) to seriously do something about getting Christian communications into the curriculum of our Christian colleges.

JAMES L. JOHNSON

Executive Secretary

Evangelical Literature Overseas

Wheaton, Ill.

Heartiest congratulations on your tenth-anniversary issue. It is indeed outstanding.

HOWARD A. KUHNLE

St. Paul’s Lutheran

Richmondville, N. Y.

Regrettably the issue lacked balance by failing to include an article on advertising, potentially one of the most promising yet actually one of the least developed forms of religious communication.

JAMES W. CARTY, JR.

Chairman

Communications Concentration

Bethany College

Bethany, W. Va.

One form of communication which was not mentioned, and yet is stronger and better than all other forms of communication, is the communication of the Holy Spirit with people.

HENRY W. LAMPE

Springfield, Mo.

I’ll offer two comments. Mr. Cassels hit the nail on the head in the panel discussion when he said, “I think people are deluged with so many communications from so many voices clamoring for their attention that they are rapidly losing the ability to hear or respond to any of them”.… Dr. Mason’s statement, “Today I think [Jesus] would use TV,” is all wet. He would have no more access to the great communications media than some of his faithful spokesmen today.

HAROLD FOX

Malta, Mont.

Bibliographic Bigotry Revisited

In the September 30 issue, Mr. Harvey Arnold, my successor as librarian of the University of Chicago Divinity School, asked me “publicly for some clarification” of my claim that his library “made a very poor showing in the field of biblical eschatology.” He wonders what subject heading I could have checked and claims that “we have every major, critical, scholarly, substantial work in that field—in all languages.”

In my original article (Aug. 19 issue) I gave a specific citation to the published study embodying my evaluation of Chicago’s biblical eschatology materials (American Theological Library Association Proceedings, XVI [1962], 94, 95); had he consulted this paper, he would have received his answer: I checked Library of Congress categories BT 819–90. But just in case my earlier research did not accurately reflect the current situation, Mr. Joel Samuels, our Trinity librarian, rechecked Chicago’s holdings against Wilbur Smith’s standard, selective Preliminary Bibliography for the Study of Biblical Prophecy (this time a complete author check was made), and the dismal results were these: Chicago has only 120 of the 220 Smith items, and in the specific area of monographic works on biblical prophecy, Chicago has only 16 Smith items (6 per cent of Smith’s list). Though it hardly seems possible, there is not a single publication by Lewis Sperry Chafer in the University of Chicago’s Divinity School Library! Since Smith’s Bibliography contains only the indispensable works in the field, these results are not insignificant.

By the by, Mr. Arnold would elicit more confidence in his acquisition policies vis-à-vis orthodox theological literature if he would get the names straight: it is the Evangelical Theological Society Bulletin, not Proceedings.

JOHN WARWICK MONTGOMERY

Professor and Chairman

Division of Church History

Trinity Evangelical Divinity School

Deerfield. Ill.

Looking Over The Overseers

If the ordained contributors among Eutychus’s Kin are representative of those whom we might hope “the Holy Spirit has made overseers, to feed the church of God …,” the prospect for us laymen is indeed a dismal one.

KENNETH W. LINSLEY

Lt. Colonel, USAF

APO, New York

Setting The Record Straight

In all fairness to Faith Church and for the benefiit of your readers, the latter surely should be made aware of some grave inaccuracies and misleading implications in the news article entitled, “Church Beats EUB in Court” (News, Sept. 16 issue).

The EUB Discipline does not say “that under trust provisions the denomination owns the property,” as the report stated. The article did not make clear that the judge unequivocally announced that the property belonged to the congregation and declared, “There is no fraud on the part of the defendants.”

Nor was it clearly pointed out that the denomination did the suing. The congregation merely sought to defend their property rights after having twice officially endeavored to negotiate an amicable property arrangement before withdrawing in order to forestall such unchristian litigation and shameful waste of the Lord’s money (not to mention the time and anxieties involved). Both times and once again during the court case, the EUB officials bitterly rejected the Faith Church’s overtures.

The judge’s decision was not as naïve as the denominational representatives would have the church world believe through this report. Nor was the pulpit “embattled,” as stated. Only once did about fifteen of the denomination’s officials come into a Sunday morning service and ask to present Rev. Lang as pastor of the non-existing Faith EUB Church. To avert disruption of a worship service, the officers of the congregation allowed the presentation, but went on with their service. Otherwise the church has prospered in the peaceful proclamation of the Word.…

PAUL M. ALLEMAN

Denver, Col.

High And Dry

I won’t cancel my subscription to CHRISTIANITY TODAY, but I would suggest that writer Robert L. Cleath (News, Oct. 14 issue) read Genesis 8:11 before he does any more reviewing of the biblical movie, The Bible … in the Beginning. Olive leaf, Mr. Cleath!

GEORGE GIPPLE, JR.

Whittier, Calif.

• The dove that old Noah let fly

Came back with a leaf bye and bye.

But the bird’s little twig

Was olive, not fig,

And the writer was caught high and dry.—ED.

Poem Treasure

I was very much blessed by that perfect treasure of a poem entitled, “Sonnet of the Midget Crosses” (Sept. 16 issue), by Wilma W. Burton.

DOROTHY E. BECKER

Schenectady, N.Y.

More On Evolution

In “The Creation of Matter, Life, and Man” (Insert, Sept. 16), Dr. Leitch writes as though the creationist view and science cannot be reconciled. Eminent scientists do believe this is possible. In fact, they believe that the available evidence is more in harmony with the creationist viewpoint than it is with the evolutionist viewpoint. Please note carefully the enclosed letter from Dr. John J. Grebe. Similar letters from other eminent scientists can be furnished if you desire them.

M. F. GABLER

Longview, Tex.

He has forgotten, or never seen, the fact which Christians should be aware of when discussing creation and evolution; that is, that death, so vital a part of the theory of evolution (e.g., death is basic to the survival-of-the-fittest concept), is not mentioned at all until after the fall of Adam and Eve.

WILLIAM L. SCURRAH

Minneapolis, Minn.

Dr. Leitch has employed fallacious reasoning, extremely selective “scientific facts” from which he deduces very dubious inferences.

EDWARD C. BOWLEN

Church in the Wildwood

Shingletown, Cal.

Clergy Salaries

You are to be commended for the news article “The Problem of the Underpaid Pastor” (Sept. 30 issue).…

Since the figures and the facts for the Church of God do not match the Church of God, Cleveland, Tennessee, may I assume that these are Church of God, Anderson, Indiana, figures?

HOLLIS L. GREEN

Public Relations Director

Church of God

Cleveland, Tenn.

• You may.—ED.

Startling Statement

I was quite startled recently when I stumbled upon an item in CHRISTIANITY TODAY, referring to the University of Colorado. In “The Drift on the College Campus” (Sept. 30 issue) appears the statement, “At the University of Colorado, 4,000 students—approximately one-third of the student body—sought psychiatric help in 1965.”

This statement is not only seriously in error but is also subject to gross misinterpretation.… The director of the University Health Service has told me that the actual number was 690. This is about 4.5 per cent, … the “norm” for state universities.…

I do recall that in my annual report on the activities of the Counseling Service, [4,000] is about the number reported as having availed themselves of these services. Some of these, of course, were prompted by emotional and other personal reasons, but very many more were for academic and vocational consultation.…

J. B. SCHOOLLAND

Dir. of Counseling

Prof. of Psychology, Emeritus

University of Colorado

Boulder, Colo.

Four-Story Christology

Foundations of New Testament Christology, by Reginald H. Fuller (Scribners, 1965, 268 pp., $5.95), is reviewed by Richard N. Longenecker, associate professor of New Testament history and theology, Trinity Evangelical Divinity School, Deerfield, Illinois.

Building upon the foundation of his The Mission and Achievement of Jesus (1954), and following the Formgeschichtliche Methode Professor Fuller attempts to demonstrate three theses: (1) that via “traditio-historical” analysis, the Bultmannian distinction between the early kerygma and the self-consciousness of Jesus can be substantiated exegetically; (2) that contrary to Bultmann, there is an essential implicit—though assuredly never explicit—continuity between the Christology of the New Testament and the activity of God in Christ; and (3) that contrary to Cullmann (though without reference to Cullmann’s clarification, cf. Scottish Journal of Theology, XV, 1, 1962, 36–43), a philosophy of the relation of functional and ontologic Christological categories can be developed.

Fuller’s procedure is to construct a four-strata pattern of New Testament affirmation, define each stratum in accordance with its ideological milieu, and then submit the Christological statements of the New Testament to critical analysis in an endeavor to assign each to its stratum and provenance. The result is as follows:

Stratum 1—Jesus conceived his earthly mission in purely functional terms. He is the eschatological prophet (à la J. A. T. Robinson’s detection of the confusion in the Gospels between John the Baptist and Jesus) whose task it was to announce, and who would be ultimately vindicated by, the coming Son of Man.

Stratum 2—The earliest Aramaic-speaking Christians of Palestine likewise thought of Jesus in a functional-prophetic manner, though they also identified him with the eschatological Son of Man, as Jesus himself never did.

Stratum 3—Hellenistic Jewish Christians (e.g., Stephen) combined ontic categories with functional, and thus heightened the conception of Jesus’ person during his ministry and added the thought of his present reign as exalted Lord.

Stratum 4—In the Hellenistic Gentile Mission (Paul, deutero-Paulinists, Hebrews, James, Petrine letters, Johannine literature), ontological categories were added, and there developed a pre-existence, incarnational, “divine man” Christology.

In each stratum, according to Fuller, a decided shift in both concept and terminology took place; and there is no express affinity between the self-consciousness of Jesus and the affirmations of later periods. Yet each shift was necessary for the particular context in which it is found, and each must be viewed in its ideological milieu as a valid response to the activity of God in Christ.

However, the author says, it would be a mistake (“sheer biblicism”) to take any of these expressions as normative—even Jesus’ own self-understanding—for all Christologies are but human responses to the divine encounter and are determined by the intellectual climate in which they arise. What we today must learn from them is that behind the varied affirmations lies implicitly a common faith, and that our Christology must be fitted to the day in which we live.

Now, such a presentation is not new. Nor has Fuller suggested that he is proposing an original synthesis, though some individual discussions reflect creative insights (e.g., on the Gnostic Redeemer Myth). What he has done is to present very ably a semi-popular and synthetic treatment of “New Quest” theology clothed in earnest piety; and in so doing he has both advanced the cause of neo-Bultmannianism and pointed up the issues confronting New Testament scholarship today.

But while Fuller’s craftsmanship, literary ability, and piety are above reproach, his presuppositions and methodology must be called to account. At six points, this reviewer objects to the presentation: (1) in the nominalistic understanding of biblical language; (2) in the separation effected between kerygma and history (geschichte and historie); (3) in the assumption that linguistic distinctions (Aramaic and Greek) reflect profound differences between Hebraic and Hellenistic thought; (4) in exegesis by supposition; (5) in the dating of sources primarily on the basis of theological presuppositions; and (6) in limited interaction with positions other than the author’s own.

Basic to Fuller’s enterprise is the conviction that “Christology is not itself a part of the original revelation or action of God in Christ” but a confessional response of the Church to the encounter of God that must be understood in light of the contemporary milieu (the “God Who Acts but refuses to become verbal” theme of G. E. Wright and Fuller’s earlier treatment). Thus biblical language cannot, it is claimed, be used in an univocal manner; it can be used only analogically. But in that the language of the Bible demonstrates no specifiable content (“faith analysis” never roots itself in the objective, which would be mere historie)—which is a necessity if analogical speech is to be meaningful—the type of reference is best called nominalistic, and not analogical at all. And nominalistic language is a frail foundation for a valid Christian experience and theology.

Reading for Perspective

CHRISTIANITY TODAY’S REVIEW EDITORS CALL ATTENTION TO THESE NEW TITLES:

• History of Evangelism, by Paulus Scharpff (Eerdmans, $5.75). Evangelism in Germany, Great Britain, and America viewed in their historical relationship by a German writer who urges mutual exchange of such knowledge by Christians.

• Jesus of Nazareth: Saviour and Lord, edited by Carl F. H. Henry (Eerdmans, $5.95). Sixteen evangelical scholars enter the current Christological debate to assess the failure of Barthian and Bultmannian perspectives, and to present the case for the historical basis of biblical Christology.

• Man: The Dwelling Place of God, by A. W. Tozer (Christian Publications, $3). Terse essays by the late Christian and Missionary Alliance editor that provide insight into the pitfalls and victories of the life of faith.

The dichotomies erected between (a) kerygma and history, and (b) the Hebrew mentality and the Greek, while commonly asserted today, are artificial. The first is the product of the meddling—though earnest and well-meaning—of the “in-laws” with the marriage; and the dictum, while slightly out of context, holds true here as well: “What God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.” Certainly the evangelists had a primary theological interest. They would not have written without it. But it would be a non sequitur to argue that any historical data in their writing is therefore to be viewed with skepticism. The second dichotomy ignores the uncertainties regarding languages in first-century Palestine, the blending of concepts within a bi- or tri-lingual situation, and the possibility that a word having one meaning for the author could be understood in a slightly different sense by the addressees in a different milieu.

Objectionable also is Fuller’s occasional “exegesis by supposition,” wherein possibilities are presented at an early point only to appear later in the dress of probabilities and certainties. Thus, for example, the treatment of: (1) Peter’s confession “You are the Christ” as a prime example of Satanic temptation, which Jesus refused in the most explicit manner in the words “Get behind me, Satan”; (2) Jesus’ so-called Triumphal Entry, where he was not hailed as the Messiah but simply acclaimed as a pilgrim; and (3) Paul’s reference to purveyors of “another Jesus” (2 Cor. 11:4) as meaning those who proclaimed a “divine man” (God-man), which the Apostle, because of his Jewish background (even though Hellenistic-Jewish), could identify only as a fleshly approach to Christology (cf. 2 Cor. 5:16). In each case, there is a very hesitant initial acceptance of the interpretation and a subsequent building upon the position as if it were fact.

Then too, while theological content is significant and presuppositions inevitable, must they reign supreme in matters of special introduction? Though the claim is made to the contrary, when the chips are down Fuller reverts to the argument that since it would be impossible for early Aramaic Christianity to have held such a position, the affirmation in question must be ascribed to a different milieu. Having then assigned the matter in question to another context on theological grounds, and having described that particular milieu in such a fashion as to receive the affirmation easily, he can then show how nicely the statement fits the milieu described and how impossible it therefore is for early Christians to have held such a position, since they were not of the milieu described. And the result is claimed a triumph for modern criticism!

Thus the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs—evidently in its entirety—is pre-Qumran, and the Christological hymns of the epistles (especially Phil. 2:6–11) cannot have come from the earliest Palestinian stratum, Lohmeyer’s supposed Aramaisms to the contrary. And so too the work of M. de Jonge on the Testaments, W. F. Albright on the early dating of New Testament literature, W. D. Davies on the Hebraic background of Paul, Miss Thrall’s rejoinder to Miss Hooker’s thesis on the Servant, and R. E. Brown’s rejoinder to Tödt’s thesis on the Son of Man—to mention only a few—can be ignored.

In all, Foundations is an eloquent presentation of “New Quest” theology by an able workman in the profession. It rides the crest of modernity and articulates effectively modern theology’s use of the New Testament. But its basic presuppositions will be considered disastrous by evangelicals, if not by others as well; and its critical methodology ought to be disquieting within the larger world of scholarship. This reviewer cannot help feeling that we are being asked, like Aladdin’s wife of fable, to exchange old lamps for new, only to find in the end that the old anthropomorphisms and phenomenal language really contained the genie after all.

RICHARD N. LONGENECKER

A Streamlined Kjv

The Bible: Selections from the King James Version, edited by Roland Mushat Frye (Houghton Mifflin Company, Riverside Editions, 1965, 591 pp., $2.75), is reviewed by Calvin D. Linton, dean of arts and sciences, George Washington University, Washington, D. C.

Roland Frye’s anthology of selections from the King James Version of the Bible is unquestionably the best of its kind. Unique among such volumes, it is based on a belief in the essential unity and wholeness of the Bible. “God’s disclosure of himself and of his demands is the great theme of the Bible,” Mr. Frye writes. And the New Testament is both integral part and culmination of the whole, for there “Jesus was not only called the Christ, but also the Son of God and the Word of God made flesh. It was in him that the ultimate characterization of God for men took place. Henceforth, according to this conviction, men may find what God is like in the New Testament’s graphic and dramatic presentation of Jesus Christ.”

Such a view of the Bible enables the editor, despite the reduction of the total bulk to about one-fourth of the original, to preserve a sense of the human and cosmic sweep within its scope and to convey its overwhelming dramatic impact, its “impression of vast sweep and vitality.” To foster this sense of continuity, the selections from the historical books and the prophets are arranged in chronological order.

To his task Frye, now at the University of Pennsylvania, brings high repute as a scholar in sixteenth and seventeenth-century English literature, having in recent years published definitive books on the religious dimensions of Shakespeare’s plays (for several years he was resident professor at the Folger Shakespeare Library) and the works of Milton. It is to be hoped that this fine paperback text will encourage more college students to take a course in the Bible, the book of which no man can afford to be ignorant and still claim even elementary literacy.

CALVIN D. LINTON

On The Teeter-Totter

The Anchor Bible, Volume 12: I Chronicles and Volume 13: II Chronicles, translated with introduction and notes by Jacob M. Myers (Doubleday, 1965, 241 and 269 pp., $6 ea.), are reviewed by Carl E. DeVries, research associate, The Oriental Institute, Chicago House, Luxor, United Arab Republic.

These volumes of the Anchor Bible (12 and 13), along with the author’s volume on Ezra-Nehemiah, form a unit. Meyers considers these four biblical books to be “the work of a Chronicler.” He treats them with apparent fondness and a measure of solicitude. Pointing to the neglect of this section of the Old Testament, he says that previously it was approached “grudgingly, often with misunderstanding, misgiving, or downright hostility.” Currently it is handled more sympathetically, for “archaeological and historical studies have now rendered it more respectable and have shown it to be at times more accurate than some of its parallel sources” (I, XV).

The commentator himself assumes a teeter-totter position on the merits of the Chronicler as a historiographer. Although he frequently affirms the reliability of Chronicles as a historical document, he characteristically qualifies such statements by so many contrary assertions that the reader only casually acquainted with the technicalities of Old Testament criticism may be at a loss to discover the author’s intent. For example, he states, “Despite the obvious legendary accretions and embellishments, the nucleus of the story may be taken as historical” (II, 147). Myers generally disparages the statistics of Chronicles but occasionally indicates that certain numerical statements are acceptable, or even preferable to those of parallel accounts.

The reader’s reactions to the theological presentation of the commentary will, of course, vary with his own theological convictions. Though Myers’s viewpoint may be described as moderate, this reviewer is uneasy about certain of the concepts credited to the Chronicler or projected by the commentator.

While it is generally agreed that Kings and Chronicles are written with different purposes or emphases, the spelling-out of the differences may vary considerably. It appears that Myers overdoes the opposition of what he labels the “Chronicler” and the “Deuteronomist.” Often his attempts to account for differences between Chronicles and Samuel—Kings are oversimplified, as are his conjectured feelings and attitudes of the Chronicler. The homiletical purpose ascribed to Chronicles may with almost equal validity be found in the other historical books; today’s preachers may find Samuel—Kings even richer in ready-made sermonic material.

In spite of essential criticisms, the reviewer feels that these volumes on Chronicles, like the other Old Testament commentaries of the Anchor Bible, are well and carefully done. One must commend Myers for his scholarly, sympathetic, and at times almost enthusiastic treatment of Chronicles.

CARL E. DEVRIES

Unraveling The Intricacies

Behind the Dim Unknown, edited by John Clover Monsma (Putnam, 1966, 256 pp., $4.95), is reviewed by Albert L. Hedrich, head, Communications Research Branch, Goddard Space Flight Center, Greenbelt, Maryland.

Undoubtedly many evangelical Christians who have not been educated in the natural sciences feel that a basic conflict exists between Christianity and science. I concluded some time ago that there is no basic conflict and that, on the contrary, an open-minded study of God’s creation (this is natural science) will lead the student to the inescapable conclusion that “all things were made by him; and without him was not anything made that was made” (John 1:3). It is this conviction that twenty-six able scientists express through their contributions to this book. Dr. Monsma has performed a valuable service in bringing the essays together.

The twenty-six chapters deal with practically all branches of natural science, and each is complete in itself. The reader may start at any place and consider the chapters of the book in any order.

The editor tells us in his introduction that the book “deals with the greatness of God as evidenced by the problems that scientists encounter in their study of nature” and “seeks to explain in laymen’s language how such problems constitute a testimony of Divine greatness …” (page 14). The first has been done, and the book’s testimony is powerful; but most laymen will not see it. They are more likely to be impressed with the extraordinary inroads man has made into the mysteries of God’s creation, since, without the scientist’s background, the problems are hard to appreciate. The effort (by the editor, I assume) to define the more difficult scientific terms is of practically no help; in fact, there are at least two gross errors, in the definition of sublimation on page 176 and that of integral on page 196.

Ministers will find the book to be a valuable source of illustrations. It will also serve as a powerful testimony to the young Christian contemplating a scientific career, and pastors and youth counselors should recommend it. Dr. F. H. Giles, Jr., in his chapter on “The Answer to Astronomy’s Final Enigma,” states it this way: “It is a rewarding challenge to be working to unravel the intricacies of the universe. It is a fascinating experience to be attempting to learn more of the Person and providence of God. It is an exciting adventure to be doing both.”

ALBERT L. HEDRICH

Pacesetting Psychologizers?

The Triumph of the Therapeutic: Uses of Faith after Freud, by Philip Rieff (Harper & Row, 1966, 274 pp., $5.95), is reviewed by Orville S. Walters, director of health services and professor of psychiatry, University of Illinois, Urbana.

The changing moral configuration of modern culture is the theme of this second volume from a sociologist who has focused upon Freud and his influence in our time. In his scrutiny of the psycho-historical process, Rieff concludes that the spiritual emphasis of the nineteenth century has been supplanted by the psychological, as contemporary concern shifts from the common good to the individual self. The psychologizers, he believes, are fully established as the pacesetters of cultural change, and psychotherapists are like to be the secular spiritual guides of the future. Where religious man was born to be saved, today’s psychological man is born to be pleased.

The spiritualizers, Rieff concludes, are trying to maintain contact with constituencies that are already deconverted in all but name. The prevailing rage is to be free of the morality inherited from an authoritarian, coercive “church civilization.” If a given course of conduct enhances one’s sense of well-being, it is considered therapeutically useful and therefore desirable, even though it may have been looked upon as immoral in an older period. The emerging culture brings release from the moral demands that have been asserted as truth under creedally authoritative institutions. We are in a cultural revolution dedicated to the greater amplitude and richness of living. The system of moral demand has lost its capacity to produce obedience, faith, or guilt, Rieff believes, and the emancipation of Western man from a sense of sin may be in sight.

Psychoanalysis has discovered “no hierarchy of value inscribed upon the universe,” hence practices and teaches a “fluidity of commitment” to soften the demands of life upon oneself (p. 51). Analysis reserves the right “even to disobey the law insofar as it originates outside the individual, in the name of a gospel of freer impulse … of a durable sense of well-being” (pp. 31, 40). Therapy emphasizes learning the importance of the present and unlearning the existence of the ultimate or the divine. Clarity about oneself supersedes devotion to an ideal as the model of right conduct.

Psychotherapists are struggling to discover a proper attitude toward the religious systems from which modern man has been deconverted. However, Rieff believes that all attempts to connect the doctrines of psychotherapy with the old faiths are patently misconceived; preaching is a dead art. The psychoanalytic and the religious engage in wordy torrents of good will, “making hash of two inherently antagonistic legacies” (p. 93).

Following an examination of Freud’s interest in cultural change and the influence of his thought upon it, Rieff writes “In Defense of the Analytic Attitude,” a chapter that is also critical of the narrowness, the false empiricism, and the internal dissension prevailing in psychoanalysis. He then turns to three “successor-critics” of Freud—Carl Jung, Wilhelm Reich, and D. H. Lawrence—searching their writings for theory and program relating to cultural change. He finds Jung’s contributions tendentious and innocent of social responsibility. A similarly assiduous examination of Reich and Lawrence yields results that seem hardly to justify the effort.

Laced with the jargon of sociology, and often redundant, this book lacks the readability and the aptness of Freud: The Mind of the Moralist. Rieff misperceives “ascetic” Christianity as predominantly restrictive, unconcerned with meaning, and ultimately pathogenic. The sociologist seems to be more able to maintain the neutrality attributed to psychoanalysis than are the analysts. After all, withholding commitment or maintaining its “fluidity” proves to be only another declaration of allegiance.

ORVILLE S. WALTERS

Book Briefs

Forerunners of the Reformation: The Shape of Late Medieval Thought, by Heiko Augustinus Oberman (Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1966, 333 pp., $7.95). A scholarly presentation of late medieval Christian writings to show the continuity between the Middle Ages and the Reformation and dispel the notion that Reformation doctrines were merely heretical innovations.

New Directions in Anglican Theology: A Survey from Temple to Robinson, by Robert J. Page (Seabury, 1965, 208 pp., $4.95). A somewhat prosaic discussion of some current aspects of Anglican thought. The themes covered include biblical criticism and theology, the contemporary drive for liturgical renewal, the relation of Anglicanism to the ecumenical movement, and the so-called new theology and new morality.

Adam’s Haunted Sons, by Sister Laurentia Digges, C. S. J. (Macmillan, 1966, 302 pp., $5.95). Stirring sketches of Old Testament men haunted by visions of God and destiny, beautifully written by a Catholic sister.

From the Mountain to the Cross, by Roy F. Osborne (Biblical Research Press, 1966, 198 pp., $3.50). Sermons sound in scriptural content, pedestrian in style.

Yes to Mission, by Douglas Webster (Seabury, 1966, 127 pp., $2.50). A British professor of missions sanely reassesses the Christian mission and argues that Africa and Asia still need the Western missionary.

The Children’s Moment: A Year of Story Sermons for Boys and Girls, by Julius Fischbach (Judson, 1966, 128 pp., $2.95). Children’s story sermons with catchy titles like those found on marquees: “Singing in the Rain” and “Who’s Afraid?” (of Virginia Woolf?—Ed.).

Man’s Place in Nature: The Human Zoological Group, by Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (Harper & Row, 1966, 124 pp., $3.50). The well-known priest-paleontologist advances the mystical philosophy that “nothing apparently can prevent man—the species—from growing still greater, so long as he preserves in his heart the passion for growth.”

Pulpit in the Shadows, by Freddie Gage, with Stan Redding (Prentice-Hall, 1966, 182 pp., $3.95). The true story of a young minister who “before the bar of heaven … is the ‘mouthpiece’ for the hustler, the prostitute, the dope fiend, the killer, the alcoholic, the scuffler, the restless, and the troubled”; told with “gritty realism.”

The Victorian Church, Part I: 1829–1860, by Owen Chadwick (Oxford, 1966, 606 pp., $12.50). A hefty history of the ebb and flow of the Church of England, 1829–1860.

Money Management for Ministers, by Manfred Holck, Jr. (Augsburg, 1966, 150 pp., $4.75). For the minister who needs help in balancing his personal budget.

The Spirit of a Sound Mind, by John R. Cobb (Zondervan, 1966, 128 pp., $2.50). A popular blend of Scripture, anecdotes, and psychological insights to guide one to “joyful spiritual adjustment.”

The Minor Prophets, by Jack P. Lewis (Baker, 1966, 103 pp., $1.95). Succinct guide for beginning students of the oft-neglected twelve.

Die Verkündigung Jesu Christi: Grundlagen und Aufgabe, by Friedrich Gogarten (J. C. B. Mohr, 1965, 568 pp., DM 34.-).

Paperbacks

Christianity and Scholarship, by W. Stanford Reid (Craig, 1966, 110 pp., $1.50). Convinced that the Christian faith provides a more secure foundation for science than humanistic approaches, Reid appeals to Christian scholars to relate their studies to the Word of God. Recommended.

The Dead Sea Scrolls: A New Historical Approach, by Cecil Roth (Norton, 1965, 99 pp., $1.25). Roth argues that the literature of the Scrolls is not that of a pre-Christian sect but that of extremist zealots in the revolt against Rome, A.D. 66–73.

Christianity in a Mechanistic Universe and other Essays, a symposium edited by Donald M. MacKay (Inter-Varsity, 1966, 125 pp., $1.25). Essays stressing that scientific studies should be rooted in the biblical theistic view of the universe.

Peace or Peaceful Coexistence?, by Richard V. Allen (American Bar Association, 1966, 233 pp., $1). An American Bar Association study warns that the policy of “peaceful coexistence” is a deceptive strategy in the Communist offensive.

The Christian in Industrial Society, by F. H. R. Catherwood (Inter-Varsity, 1966, 130 pp., $1.25). A plea that evangelical emphasis on personal regeneration be balanced by collective Christian impact on industrial society.

The Maréchale, by James Strachan (Bethany Fellowship, 1966, 221 pp., $1.95). A glowing literary portrait of the life and ministry of Catherine Booth, eldest daughter of the founder of the Salvation Army.

Church Plays and How to Stage Them, by Albert Johnson (United Church Press, 1966, 174 pp., $3). A rationale for drama as Christian witness; includes Reformation, nativity, and morality plays.

Suppressed Books: A History of the Conception of Literary Obscenity, by Alec Craig (World, 1966, 287 pp., $1.65). A chaperoned tour of literary obscenity problems from antiquity to Lolita.

Why Scientists Accept Evolution, by Robert T. Clark and James D. Bales (Baker, 1966, 113 pp., $1.50). The writers show the anti-supernatural biases of leading exponents of evolution and request a reopening of the question.

The Work of the Usher, by Alvin D. Johnson (Judson, 1966, 64 pp., $1). Tells the “doorkeeper in the house of the Lord” how to put his best foot forward.

A Christian’s Guide to the New Testament, by Alan Cole (Moody, 1966, 96 pp., $.95). Elementary but enlightening introduction for those beginning to study the New Testament.

Visions of Heaven and Hell, by John Bunyan (Reiner, 1966, 63 pp., $.75). Visions from the past needed for today.

Is christianity reasonable? Only if human reason is properly related to faith.

I am quite aware that this statement may appear “unreasonable,” but I believe it lies at the very heart of the predicament of unregenerate man.

The “preaching of the Cross” is nothing but foolishness to those who do not believe. The offense of the Cross is its revealing both man’s utter helplessness and God’s way of redeeming him—through a Person and an act far transcending human experience and wisdom.

Revelation is solely from and by God. Reason is a human faculty given to man by God. By divine fiat man was granted the power to say yes and to say no. And he is held accountable for his choice. Wrong choices based on faulty reasoning carry grave penalties.

Years ago Pollock remarked that, for many persons, “reasoning” is the great obstacle to conversion. This is perhaps even more true of people today. Basic theological problems emerge when reason is given priority over faith.

One extreme is the “God is dead” philosophy, where human reason has become sterile rationalism: man becomes his own god, and God is ruled out of existence.

The Apostle Paul, preaching in Lystra against the idolatry of that city, told of God’s dealings with mankind from the time of the creation and said, “Yet he did not leave himself without witness” (Acts 14:17a, RSV). This witness is the revelation he has given us of himself and his truth.

The revelation of God in creation is continuing and universal. “The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims his handiwork. Day to day pours forth speech, and night to night declares knowledge. There is no speech, nor are there words; their voice is not heard; yet their voice goes out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world” (Ps. 19:1–4a).

The Apostle Paul speaks of the revelation of God’s works of creation as entailing man’s responsibility: “Ever since the creation of the world his invisible nature, namely, his eternal power and deity, has been clearly perceived in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse” (Rom. 1:20).

Because revelation is the foundation of Christianity, faith must be given precedence over mere human reason. In view of the implications of revelation, there obviously is much that man cannot understand this side of eternity. If it were otherwise, revelation would be unnecessary. There is much that must be accepted by faith, which often transcends human reason.

God also reveals himself and his truth in his acts of providence and control—in our personal lives, in current events, in history. This revelation must be believed even though we do not always understand God’s ways. By faith we see the operation of the divine and omnipotent hand that moves in such a mysterious way through our own lives and through history. The Apostle Paul was led to exclaim, “O the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!” (Rom. 11:33). This was an affirmation of faith, not of human reason.

The abundance of God’s revelation to man is also seen in his Written Word. How limited our knowledge and understanding would be without the Bible! In it are found the answers to the wailings of the existentialist, the gropings of the philosopher, the inquiries of the scholar. There also is found the “historical Jesus” some seek.

Only in the Scriptures are revealed the eternal truths of Christ, who he was and what he did. It is not human reason that makes these things plain; rather, faith accepts them as revealed. God has revealed himself in the Person of his Son so that, seeing him, we know what God is like. Human reason can never account for Christ; only faith apprehends him.

To those who will see and hear, God also reveals himself through the presence and power of the Holy Spirit. It is he who takes the things of Christ and through them speaks to our hearts and minds. To the unregenerate mind, the person and work of the Holy Spirit are incomprehensible.

Every revelation from God and of God must be accepted by faith. The great emphasis of the New Testament is on faith. It is to those who believe, not those who employ mere human reason, that Christ becomes a living Saviour. The foolishness of the Cross saves those who subordinate human intellectual concepts to God’s divine wisdom. To try to reason and rationalize the meaning of our Lord’s death on Calvary can lead only to folly. To accept it by faith is to bring the wisdom and understanding of God into one’s soul.

Of course reason has its place, but it is not enough in itself. It must be aided by revelation and enlightened by faith.

I see an apple by the side of the road, and reason tells me there is an apple tree somewhere. But only revelation tells me where the tree came from.

I read the morning paper with its stories of war and suffering, crime and lust, injustices and oppression. Reason tells me that there is something wrong with the world. Only revelation tells me that it is sin in the human heart and that sin is disobedience to God’s holy laws.

And revelation goes further. It tells of God’s remedy for man’s predicament. It tells me of the things that are seen and those that are not seen and of their comparative values.

Giving priority to revelation rather than to human reason takes humility, the “faith of a little child” of which our Lord spoke. This is not childishness but the subordination of human wisdom to the wisdom of God, so that our boast is not in man but in God.

Once the demand of revelation over human reason is recognized, faith itself becomes reasonable. Supernatural Christianity (e.g., the Incarnation and the Virgin Birth) becomes truly reasonable when received through the eye of faith. Until there is faith, all that is miraculous and supernatural is foolishness. Once a man recognizes that God in his dealings and manifestations transcends human reason and experience, he finds that faith itself commends as reasonable that about which the world knows nothing.

Many of the problems of theology and of the Church arise through a sophistication that is an enemy of Christianity. When reason divorced from faith is given top priority, faith shrivels. The Bible teaches that “no wisdom, no understanding, no counsel, can avail against the Lord” (Prov. 21:30). It is equally explicit in saying that because “the world did not know God through wisdom, it pleased God through the folly of what we preach to save those who believe” (1 Cor. 1:21).

The gateway to eternal life lies not in human reason but in the divine revelation of Jesus Christ and all that is implied by his death and resurrection. The Gospel centers in these two historical facts.

Reasonable? Only to those who know by faith the truth of God’s revelation.

Those who would destroy the Church have seen it gain new life

“Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the Lord of hosts” (Zech. 4:6b)

My dear fellow workers in the Lord: Let me greet you by quoting First Corinthians 16:19, “The churches of Asia salute you.”

It is a great honor for me to attend the World Congress on Evangelism and to share in its vision and aspirations.

Surely it is a time for us Christians to have a worldwide missionary vision and strategy, not only because the gospel is for the whole world but also because the the world is becoming smaller and smaller and because the forces of evil are bolder and more rampant. We are confident that God in his faithfulness will meet us in some special way at this crucial hour in human history.

All of us know the situation in the Scripture lesson we have read this evening. The long period of Israel’s Babylonian captivity was over, and God had fulfilled his promise to his Chosen People “to give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified” (Isa. 61:3). So “like them that dreamed, their mouth filled with laughter and their tongue with singing,” they returned to Jerusalem with bright vision and high hope.

On reaching Jerusalem, the Children of Israel gathered themselves together and began to build the temple. They laid the foundations with great rejoicing and with prospects of speedily completing the work. But no sooner was the work begun than adversaries, the Samaritans, rose against them and sent a letter of bitter accusation to the King of Persia. Seeing the smallness of their resources and the enormity of the undertaking, Zerubbabel and his people became discouraged and ceased from their labors. For a full fifteen years they did nothing.

It was in this hour of depression that God appeared to Zechariah, his prophet, in a vision of a golden candlestick with seven lamps and two live olive trees, one on each side. “Knowest thou not what these be?” asked an angel. Zerubbabel said, “No, my Lord.” Then the angel continued: “This is the word of the Lord unto Zerubbabel, saying, not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the Lord of hosts. Who are thou, O great mountain? Before Zerubbabel thou shalt become a plain: and he shall bring forth the headstone thereof with shoutings, crying, Grace, grace unto it.” Commenting on this Scripture, John Calvin said:

Here the angel bears witness … that the power of God alone is sufficient to preserve the Church and there is no need of other helps. For He sets the Spirit of God in opposition to all earthly aids; and thus He proves that God borrows no help for the preservation of His Church because He abounds in all blessings to enrich it. Further, by the word Spirit we know is meant His power, as though He had said, “God designs to ascribe to Himself alone the safety of His Church; and though the Church may need many things there is no reason why it should turn its eyes here and there, or seek this or that help from men; for all abundance of blessings may be supplied by God alone.”

I

Let us first of all observe that it is the Spirit of God alone who establishes his Church. It was on the Day of Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit came upon those who were in the upper room as a rushing, mighty wind and as cloven tongues of fire, that the Church was born. The city that had crucified Jesus was hostile and hateful to his newly born Church, and it is a miracle that the Church survived. Arrayed against it were hypocritical Pharisaism, secularistic Sadduceeism, the intolerant and idolatrous Roman government, and vain, humanistic Hellenism. The Church appeared as a lamb in the midst of wolves.

Yet the lamb survived. And not only did it survive; the Church of Jesus Christ grew and spread until at last it conquered all its foes and changed the course of history with its redemptive truth. How? “Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the Lord of hosts.”

Ii

The story of the Jerusalen Church during the first century is the history of the Church throughout the centuries. Many thought that the last days of the Church had come when the Roman Empire fell, or when the fanatical Muslim army reached Europe. Nevertheless, despite these foes, the Church not only has survived but also created a Christian civilization.

During the modern era of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the Church has had to face many new enemies in the form of natural science and humanistic philosophy that denied the supernatural and robbed Jesus of his deity. Yet in these times great revivals broke out in Europe and America that renewed and revitalized the Church and inspired God’s people to take the Gospel to the ends of the earth. How? “Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the Lord of hosts.”

Iii

Let me tell you how the Korean church was born. The first missionary of the modern era who brought God’s word to our people was martyred on the very day he landed on our shores. Robert J. Thomas, a Welshman, was a colporteur of the Scottish Bible Society who was working in China. He learned that the Korean language is based on Chinese and that the Korean intellectuals could read Chinese. And so, despite his enormous responsibility of getting the Scriptures to the hundreds of millions of Chinese, he determined to get God’s truth to the Koreans as well.

Thomas secured passage on an American schooner, the General Sherman, that was sailing for Pyeng Yang, the large city in the north on the Tae Tong River. As the vessel neared Pyengyang, a bitter controversy arose with the native coast guard; the ship was burned, and all the passengers were killed. The death of one passenger was most unusual, however, for as this man staggered out of the water his arms were filled with books that he thrust into the hands of the Koreans who clubbed him to death. This is how the Bible first came to Korea, in 1866.

When Korea opened her doors to the world in 1884, Dr. Horace N. Allen, a Presbyterian missionary, came to the United States embassy as a physician. The Rev. Horace G. Underwood and the Rev. Henry G. Appenzeller, of the Presbyterian and Methodist missions respectively, arrived in Korea on Easter morning of the same year.

By the turn of the century enough missionaries had arrived to establish stations in the principal cities of Korea. New converts were organized into congregations, and various educational institutions were founded for their training. In 1907 the theological seminary graduated its first class, and in that same year—a historical and memorable date—the Korean Presbyterian Church was organized.

Political confusion and social unrest made the future of the church uncertain, however. In 1905 the Russo-Japanese war had been fought over Korea and after the conflict the country was occupied by Japanese forces. Embittered by this loss of their freedom, Korean guerrillas waged warfare all over the country. A violent anti-foreign storm, especially of anti-Americanism, swept across the land because the United States had formally recognized the Japanese annexation of Korea. Torn between two loyalties—to the American missionaries on the one hand and to their anti-American compatriots on the other—Christians turned in their dilemma to God. In his book Gold in Korea Dr. William N. Blair writes:

So it was that God compelled us to look to Him. We had reached a place where we dared not go forward without His presence. Very earnestly we poured out our hearts before Him, and God met us and gave us an earnest of the blessing that was to come. Before the meeting closed the Spirit showed us plainly that the way of victory for us would be the way of confession, of broken hearts and bitter tears.

We went from those August meetings realizing as never before that nothing but the baptism of God’s Spirit in mighty power could fit us and our Korean brethren for the trying days ahead. We felt that the Korean Church needed not only to repent of the sin of discord and schism but needed a clearer vision of all sin, that many had come into the church sincerely believing in Jesus as their Saviour and anxious to do God’s will without great sorrow for sin because of its familiarity. We felt the whole church needed a vision of God’s holiness; that embittered souls needed to have their thoughts taken away from the hopeless national situation to their own personal relation with the Master. We agreed together at that time to pray for a great blessing, especially at the time of the winter Bible-Study class for men in Pyengyang.

The time for the Bible class came. The missionaries met every day at noon for prayer. Dr. Blair describes his own experience as follows:

Monday noon, we missionaries met and cried out to God in earnest. We had been bound in spirit and refused to let God go until He blessed us. That night it was very different. Each felt as he entered the church that the room was full of God’s presence. Not only missionaries but Koreans testified to the same thing. I was present once in Wisconsin when the Spirit of God fell upon a congregation of lumbermen and every unbeliever in the room rose to ask for prayers. That night in Pyengyang, the same feeling came to me as I entered the room, a feeling of God’s nearness impossible to describe.

After a short sermon, Dr. Graham Lee took charge of the meeting and called for prayers. So many began praying that Dr. Lee said, “If you want to pray like that, all pray,” and the whole audience began to pray out loud, all together. The effect was indescribable. Not confusion, but a vast harmony of sound and spirit, a mingling together of souls moved by an irresistible impulse to prayer. It sounded to me like the falling of many waters, an ocean of prayer beating against God’s throne. It was not many, but one, born of one Spirit, lifted to one Father above. Just as on the Day of Pentecost, they were all together in one place, of one accord praying, “and suddenly there came from heaven the sound as of the rushing of a mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting.”

God is not always in the whirlwind, neither does He always speak in a still small voice. He came to us in Pyengyang that night with the sound of weeping. As the prayer continued a spirit of heaviness and sorrow came down upon the audience. Over on one side someone began to weep and in a moment the whole congregation was weeping.

Dr. Lee’s account, written at the time of the revival, gives the history of that night better than any words written later, however carefully penned, can do. “Man after man would arise, confess his sin, break down and weep, and then throw himself to the floor, beat the floor with his fists in perfect agony of conviction. My own cook tried to make a confession, broke down in the midst of it and cried to me across the room, ‘Pastor, tell me, is there any hope for me, can I be forgiven?’ and then threw himself to the floor and wept and wept, and almost screamed in agony. Sometimes after a confession, the whole audience would break out in audible prayer, and the effect of that audience of hundreds of men praying together in audible prayer was something indescribable. Again after another confession they would break out in uncontrollable weeping and we would all weep together, we couldn’t help it. And so the meeting went on until two o’clock A.M., with confession and weeping and praying!”

I wish to describe that Tuesday night meeting in my own words because part of what happened concerned me personally. We were aware that bad feeling existed between several of our church officers, especially between a Mr. Kang and a Mr. Kim. Mr. Kang confessed his hatred for Mr. Kim on Monday night, but Mr. Kim was silent. At our noon prayer-meeting Tuesday several of us agreed to pray for Mr. Kim. I was especially interested because Mr. Kang was my assistant in the North Pyengyang Church and Mr. Kim an elder in the Central Church and one of the officers in the Young Men’s Association of which I was chairman. As the meeting progressed, I could see Mr. Kim sitting with the elders back of the pulpit with his head down. Bowing where I sat, I asked God to help him and looking up I saw him coming forward.

Holding to the pulpit he made his confession. “I have been guilty of fighting against God. An elder in the church, I have been guilty of hating not only Kang You-moon, but Pang Moksa.” “Pang Moksa” is my Korean name. I never had a greater surprise in my life. To think that this man, my associate in the Men’s Association, had been hating me without my knowing it. It seems that I had said something to him one day in the hurry of managing a school field day exercise which had given offense, and he had not been able to forgive me.

Turning to me he said, “Can you forgive me? Can you pray for me?” I stood up and began to pray, “Aba-ge, Aba-ge,” “Father, Father,” and got no further. It seemed as if the roof was lifted from the building and the Spirit of God came down in a mighty avalanche of power upon us. I fell at Kim’s side and wept and prayed as I had never prayed before. My last glimpse of the audience is photographed indelibly on my brain. Some threw themselves full length on the floor, hundreds stood with arms outstretched toward heaven. Every man forgot every other. Each was face to face with God. I can hear yet that fearful sound of hundreds of men pleading with God for mercy.

As soon as we were able, we missionaries gathered at the platform and consulted, “What shall we do? If we let them go on this way some will go crazy.” Yet we dared not interfere. We had prayed to God for an outpouring of His Holy Spirit upon the people and it had come. Separating, we went down and tried to comfort the most distressed, pulling the agonized men to the floor and saying, “Never mind, brother, if you have sinned God will forgive you. Wait and an opportunity will be given to speak.”

Finally Dr. Lee started a hymn and quiet was restored during the singing. Then began a meeting like to which I had never seen before, nor wish to see again unless in God’s sight it is absolutely necessary. Every sin a human being can commit was publicly confessed that night. Pale and trembling with emotion, in agony of mind and body, guilty souls standing in the white light of that judgment, saw themselves as God saw them. Their sins rose up on all their vileness till shame and grief and self-loathing took complete possession. Pride was driven out; the fact of man forgotten. Looking up to heaven, to Jesus whom they had betrayed, they smote themselves and cried out with bitter wailing, “Lord, Lord, cast us not away forever.” Everything else was forgotten; nothing else mattered. The scorn of men, the penalty of the law, even death itself seemed of small consequence if only God forgave. We may have our theories of the desirability or undesirability of public confession of sin. I have had mine, but I know now that when the Spirit of God falls upon guilty souls there will be confession and no power on earth can stop it.

The Pyengyang Class ended with the meeting Tuesday night. The men returned to their homes in the country, taking the Pentecostal fire with them. Everywhere the story was told the same Spirit flamed forth and spread. Practically every church not only in North Korea, but throughout the peninsula received its share of blessing. In Pyengyang, special meetings were held in the various churches for more than a month. Even the schools had to lay aside lessons while the children wept out their wrong-doings together.

Repentance was by no means confined to confession and tears. Peace waited upon reparation, wherever reparation was possible. We had our hearts torn again and again during those days by the return of articles and money that had been stolen from us during the years. It hurt so to see them grieve. All through the city men were going from house to house, confessing to individuals they had injured, returning stolen property and money, not only to Christians, but to non-Christians as well. The whole city was stirred. A Chinese merchant was astonished to have a Christian walk in and pay him a large sum of money that he had obtained unjustly years before.

The new Korean Church was organized as had been planned. The first meeting of the new church was really a foreign missionary meeting. A Board of Foreign Missions was organized. The Presbytery laid its hands upon one of the first seven men to be ordained to the Gospel ministry, perhaps the most gifted man in the class, Ne Ke-pung, and sent him as a missionary to the island of Quelpart, south of Korea. The missionary spirit took possession of the whole church, especially of the young men in the college. The Pyengyang College and Academy students raised enough money to send one of their own number, Kim Hyung-chai, to Quelpart, to help Ne Ke-Pung.

Two years later another ordained man was sent by the Korean Church to Vladivostok in Russia, to preach to thousands of Koreans who had settled in that section. In 1912 the General Assembly of the Korean Church decided to send missionaries to China, having been invited to do so by the Shantung Presbytery in China. Three strong Korean pastors were sent, and a work was begun that has continued through the years with much blessing to the Chinese people and to the Korean Church.

The so-called Million Movement in 1909 and 1910 was one of the results of the revival. The Korean Christians made a serious effort to present the Gospel to the whole nation in one year. Tens of thousands of days of preaching from house to house were pledged by individuals. A special effort was made to place a copy of Mark’s Gospel in every house. The Bible Society printed a special edition of one million copies of Mark’s Gospel for this campaign, and over 700,000 copies were sold during the year.

Thus the Korean church was born. How? “Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the Lord of hosts.”

Iv

Now let me recount briefly what God has been doing in Korea since the Second World War. As you know, Korea was divided at the Thirty-eighth Parallel, and an uneasy truce separates Communist-dominated North Korea from the free South. How has this ceasefire armistice affected the church?

Before the Second World War the church was strongest in the north; fully two-thirds of all Korea’s Christians lived there. Because of the oppression, from the time the Communists began their occupation in 1950 many, if not most, of the Christians fled south. They fanned out in all directions, carrying the Gospel with them, establishing new congregations wherever they went.

Because of the suffering and destruction of war, Christians everywhere began to pray more earnestly than ever before. Early-morning prayer meetings sprang up in almost all churches. The whole church became prayer-conscious, and the Spirit of God moved mightily through these prayer sessions.

With the organization of the Korean armed forces, army, navy, and air force chaplaincies were formed. Since all young men are required to serve in the military, the youth of the land have been challenged for Christ through these Christian leaders. The effectiveness of this ministry is seen in the fact that whereas the percentage of believers among civilians is 7 per cent, in the armed services it is 15 per cent. Freed from the bondage of village tradition, these young men are at liberty to make their Christian commitment.

During the war vigorous evangelism was carried on among the 150,000 North Korean Communist prisoners; about 20,000 turned to Christ, of whom 150 are now in the Christian ministry.

As evidence of church growth that resulted from the suffering and misery of the war years and the peoples’ turning to God, there are today in the city of Seoul about 600 congregations, where previously there were only 30; Pusan now has about 200, where before there were only 12; Taegu has 170, where previously there were only 17. We could go on.

We now have a church in almost every sizable community throughout South Korea. Although we Christians are still a small minority, a mere 7 per cent of the total population, we believe a bridgehead has been made. Our task now, as never before, is to go forward.

What about North Korea? While no direct information is getting through, reports indicate that aside from a few “showplace” churches permitted to operate in the larger cities as “evidence” to tourists of “religious liberty,” all other places of Christian worship are closed. It is dangerous to preach anywhere, or even to admit one is a Christian; but a faithful remnant is working underground as it did in Nero’s time. Many are confident that if and when pressure against the Church by the Communist government is removed, a large and devoted body of believers will emerge.

We believe the unification of Korea will come in God’s own time. When that day comes, Korea will certainly be a Christian Korea, for we know that “the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church.” How? “Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the Lord of hosts.”

V

Now we are gathered here with a great burden on our hearts for the unsaved millions of the world. We are living in the latter part of the twentieth century, when history is moving rapidly in most mysterious ways. The great advancement of science and technology has brought a change not only in man’s mode of life but in man himself. Sometimes we speak even of “dehumanization.” Political, economic, social, and cultural revolutions are occurring in every continent and country.

Communism, with its atheism, materialism, and totalitarianism, now controls about one-third of the people of the world. Asia, the biggest continent with the largest population, is progressing politically and economically and is reviving its ancient, indigenous religions. In some Asian countries the door to Christian missions is being closed; and with secularism and worldly compromise sapping the strength and vitality of considerable areas of the older churches in America and Europe, the Church appears once more to many as a lamb in the midst of wolves. But, praise God, we read in the book of the Revelation that the Lamb will finally conquer all the cruel forces of heaven and earth. How? “Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the Lord of hosts.”

So, onward Christian soldiers! Let us march forward, for the Spirit of God is with us, ever conquering and to conquer!

Christ’s Gospel revealed the moral rottenness of the times and laid bare the powerlessness of the pagan religions and philosophies

Whenever Christians have sought to return to the first century, they have hoped to search out once again the source of Christianity, its purity of doctrine and simplicity of practice. Here they have hoped to discover the secret that enabled the early Christians, in less than a hundred years, to proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ to the world powers of that age—the Roman Empire with its materialistic paganism, illustrious Greece with its philosophy, and Jerusalem with its religion.

Bursting upon every situation like an avalanche that carries everything before it, that new and simple message revealed the moral rottenness of the times. It also laid bare the powerlessness of inconsistent religions and philosophies to apply ethical principles to daily life.

Into a corrupt and decadent society overrun with religious and philosophical doctrines based on pompous language, ancient moral codes, human traditions, and gross practices and superstitions, came the gospel message. It arrived at a point in history when humanity was completely impotent. Only a few choice souls, sickened by the corruption around them and disquieted by a spiritual hunger for the truth, gathered together, often secretly to protect their families and preserve their homes and customs. Others looked to religion and philosophy for comfort, light, and guidance. The great multitude, however, insensitive to spiritual problems, drifted along, indulging in vices and pleasures. Only a few, having a premonition of great things to come, devoted themselves to meditation, all the while alert to signs that pointed to some providential person, significant event, or transcendental solution.

The gospel message contained all three of these elements: (1) the doctrine of a Person, the Son of God, manifest in the flesh, who should come into the world to seek lost man in order to save, dignify, and transform him; (2) the unprecedented event of his death on a Roman cross between two malefactors at the end of a sinless life of incomparable ministry in word and deed; and (3) the effective, immediate solution wrought by the power of the crucified and risen Lord. Christ’s Gospel was the divine dynamite that destroyed the power of sin and brought abundant spiritual life and a glorious and radiant hope. This is the secret of early Christianity. Its purity and authentic glory can inspire us in this day when social, moral and spiritual conditions are so like that of the first century. Actually, with the passing of time, evils have increased, the night has become darker, resources are more limited, and the end is nearer.

Let us return, then, to the beginnings of Christianity, to the day of Pentecost. On that day the Apostle Peter preached Christ. Because Christ was a contemporary of those who were listening, the events were current and the conclusions logical: prophecy and history met and coincided perfectly at the foot of the cross. This, in my opinion, is the relevance of the Gospel we preach after so many centuries—we “upon whom the ends of the world are come” (1 Cor. 10:11).

The Person of Jesus Christ does not belong to a remote past, is not a product of traditions or carefully preserved legends, is not something surrounded by a halo of mysticism. Christ the Son of God is as much a contemporary of today’s men and women as he was of those on the first Day of Pentecost. His life, his teachings, his death on the cross, his shed blood, are now as then the only basis of redemption, the unshakable rock on which the soul rests for salvation.

God’s message has not changed. His method of salvation has not varied. He has not altered the way of access for the repentant sinner to God and the Saviour. The Lord is as contemporary as the solution he presents to mankind. Only Christ has the answer to man’s tremendous problems. Today, as then, he is the only hope, the true light, the way, the truth, the life. No one—whatever his religious or irreligious state, whatever his academic prowess, his economic or social status—can find God apart from Jesus Christ. It was this Gospel, preached by men, some of whom were considered ignorant, that produced one of the greatest commotions in history. In fact, it made Greek mythology look ridiculous, reduced to impotence the ancestral Hebrew religion, and gave a death blow to the paganism whose center was Rome.

A verse in First Peter (1:12) speaks of “them that have preached unto you with the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven.” The question arises immediately: What kind of Gospel was this? What is the content of the message? What power attends it? How could the glorious Spirit of God, an invisible Person, be the preacher of the Gospel?

To answer these questions we have only to turn to the Book of the Acts of the Apostles and analyze the apostles’ sermons. There is something distinctive about them—the apostles preached Christ. Christ in his Person and in his work was pre-eminent, central in all respects. The apostles did not waste time on human reasoning nor lower the high level of their preaching to dialectics. They knew that their audience represented the three great cultures of that age, Roman, Greek, and Hebrew; yet evident behind the outline of their message was the perfect harmony between history and prophecy. History was so recent that many had known Jesus personally. Prophecy was centuries old and therefore when quoted was given special emphasis.

If we take as an example Peter’s sermon at Pentecost recorded in the second chapter of Acts, we see that of twenty-two verses, twelve refer exclusively to the Old Testament. Other verses refer to the application of these prophecies. The remainder of the great Pentecost message is but two verses: one of these is a quotation from the Old Testament and the other is an exhortation. That is to say, this great sermon, the first apostolic sermon recorded in the New Testament and the first great spiritual “fishing” in the dawn of the Church, is 50 per cent Bible quotations and 50 per cent personal exhortation.

Peter was speaking of the saddest day in human history, of a juridical error and an injustice without parallel, of a most ignominious death, of what from the human point of view was defeat, tragedy, the end. Nevertheless, his sermon could aptly be called a sermon of victory. There are several reasons why this is so.

First, Peter presents Christ’s victory in life (v. 22). From the humble manger of Bethlehem to Calvary, Christ’s life was transparent to both friend and foe. He spent his first thirty years in a village where he became known as “the carpenter’s son.” From Nazareth, where he spent those years after his baptism by John the Baptist and the temptation in the wilderness, he started a public ministry that revealed divine approval and attracted great multitudes. His wonders, miracles, and signs brought him popularity and an audience but also aroused the worst sentiments of jealousy and hate among the religious classes.

He lived a natural life—so human, so simple, so humble, yet so victorious. His triumph was more than a mere victory of truth over error, of God over the works of Satan, of health over disease. It was a triumph over temptation, over sin and its chains, over false prejudices, over inconsistent human traditions, over a tacit admission of sin, corruption, bribery, vested interests, injustice, outrage, hypocrisy, avarice. This triumph of Christ established a pattern for presenting a clear interpretation of the law, bringing heaven closer to the sinner, revealing God the Father in his infinite heavenly love in order to show the way of salvation, the opportunity of regeneration, and the reality of individual transformation through the power of the Gospel.

Moreover, Christ lived what he preached, and preached what he lived. Nobody could point a finger of accusation against him; even his worst enemies recognized that “never man spake like this man” and that his works were unequalled. Most important of all, Christ’s victory in life was shown by the victory of holiness, purity and truth, compassion, grace, love, tolerance, kindness, understanding, faith, meekness.

The apostle refers secondly to Christ’s victory in death (v. 23). Once again, from the human perspective, the cross does not appear to be a symbol of victory. The multitudes who followed our Lord abandoned him and returned to their towns and villages. The crowd that on his triumphal entry into Jerusalem sang hosannas and fulfilled the prophecy of Zechariah now on the day of his crucifixion joined his enemies in demanding his death. Not even the sight of “the Man of Sorrows, despised and rejected of men,” crowned with thorns, dressed in a scarlet robe with his hands tied, showing his wounds and shedding his blood in silence like a meek lamb, excited sympathy. In payment for his love he received the worst of all tortures; in exchange for the riches and glory he left behind, he accepted the opprobrious poverty of Calvary; insults and taunts were the only echo of his wonderful teaching.

Finally, nailed to the cross, he is denied water for his thirst, and comfort for his affliction. At the cross, all man’s hate and all God’s wrath seemed to converge. Only a few followers at the foot of the cross stood out against that overwhelming rejection and despisal. Christ was heard to cry, “It is finished.” Did he mean merely that he had finished his teaching, his miracles, his works of love, and was now leaving the earth as he found it—plunged in darkness and in the power of the Evil One? Had he failed in the work his Father entrusted to him? Had the glory of the night of Bethlehem ended in another night of misery and pain? Had he who walked on the sea and with his voice calmed the wind and the waves now himself plunged into the cold waters of death? Was he who freed the captives from the power of Satan, from the pain of their wounds and the inertia of paralysis, now to die, now to bleed from his own wounds, now to be powerless to descend from the cross and to save himself? Was he who could have worn a king’s crown and crushed the power of human empires to wear a crown of thorns and die without honor?

Christ’s victory on the cross is the victory over death, sin, and hell. In dying, he gave life. In shedding his blood, He opened a way for the sinner to be reconciled to God. The sinner, disinherited by sin and weakened by his experience, can now call himself a son of God, an heir of God and joint heir with Christ. In the cross, the eye of faith perceives a death so necessary that if it had not occurred, man would never have found the road to God, reconciliation with the Father, forgiveness of sins and peace of soul.

In the third place, Peter’s sermon is a sermon of victory because its climax is the victory of Christ in his resurrection and ascension (v. 24). He who lived a victorious life ended his earthly ministry by a victorious death. Risen from the dead and ascended into heaven, he is exalted and seated at the right hand of God. He has poured out upon men and women the gifts of his spirit, thereby sharing the trophies of his victory and the power that he himself possessed.

Christ’s ascension into heaven not only confirmed the supernatural event of his resurrection from the dead, destroyed the power of the tomb forever, removed the fear of death; it also demonstrated that when the Son rose from the dead. God the Father accepted his sacrifice for sin. Christ’s offering for our sins, his payment of our debt, his perfect righteousness, his infinite merit, are sufficient to atone for our iniquity. We are reconciled by his death and saved through his life. He who died to save us now lives to keep us, makes intercession always for us, and occupies the undisputed place of High Priest of his people. He who “was tempted in all points” now succors those who are tempted. His throne is a throne of grace to which we can draw near in every circumstance of life to obtain mercy and find “grace to help in time of need.”

Finally, Peter’s sermon at Pentecost is a sermon of victory because Christ’s victory was a complete one with eternal consequences. Although not all people on this planet of his vast universe have experienced Christ’s victory, yet God has “made peace through the blood of his cross, by him to reconcile all things unto himself … whether they be things in earth, or things in heaven” (Col. 1:20).

One of the Gospel’s main characteristics is its personal nature. “What shall we do?” ask the multitudes. The apostle’s answer is likewise personal: “Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost” (Acts 2:38).

“Every one of you,” says the text. As we analyze the Gospel preached by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven, we discover the emphasis is on man’s lost condition. This is shown in Jesus’ teachings about the man who fell among robbers on the road to Jericho; the woman who was a sinner in the house of Simon; Zacchaeus, who climbed into the sycamore tree. It is seen in the story of the lost sheep, the lost coin, the prodigal son; in that of the publican in the temple, the man with the withered hand in the synagogue, the paralytic at the Pool of Bethesda, the blind man by the wayside, the dead man whose soul has crossed the boundaries of life, the thief who dies on a cross. Each case reveals man’s lost condition, his spiritual ruin, and his separation from God. Jesus the Christ, this greatest Preacher, not only spoke as no man had ever spoken but did so with such power and so winningly that multitudes followed him for days, forgetting even to eat.

After pointing out man’s ruined state, the Gospel preached by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven indicates that God’s day of judgment will come, and the Supreme Judge and inflexible arbiter will be none other than he who was once judged unjustly, betrayed, slandered by false witnesses, beaten without compassion. He who appeared before the mob and was condemned to die on a cross will be Judge. At the Great White Throne he will judge the dead for their words, their deeds, their failure to use their privileges and opportunities. Those whose names are not written in the Book of Life, says God’s Word, will be cast into the lake of fire; this is the second death.

Moreover, the Gospel preached by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven looks to Christ as Saviour. This message is complete. Not only does it contain the solution for all present ills and sins through God’s gracious salvation bestowed by faith to everyone who believes, but it also looks to the future. This same Jesus who died to save us, who lives to keep us and is interested in every one of his own, is coming again. He will not come to Bethlehem in poverty, nor return to be scorned, wounded, and crucified by the world. His second and glorious coming will be in the clouds to take his Church from this world to the Father’s House, where he is now preparing a place for each of those who believe on Him. The Gospel preached by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven looks toward a future day when all human problems will be forever ended, sin will have been removed from the earth, and death will be no more.

The Gospel, in other words, announces the definite triumph of good over evil. Heaven and earth as they now exist will give place to God’s world of tomorrow. In the new heaven and the new earth, righteousness will reign. This glorious order of things, this sublime ending to the story of man’s miserable and sad history, will not come through the efforts of men or nations. It will come by the will of God, who said concerning that day, “Behold, I make all things new.”

Let me emphasize that when the Gospel is preached, however eloquent and complete its presentation may be by doctrinal standards, and however simple its appeal, it will not accomplish the desired effect unless it is accompanied by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven.

The Apostle Peter speaks of “the Gospel preached … with the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven.” This he said toward the end of his fruitful ministry, and his words are illustrated by what happened on the Day of Pentecost. God’s seal to Peter’s preaching was the Holy Spirit, which came down from heaven and fell on all those who were listening to his sermon. This was not intended to create a psychological or emotional state; the power of the Holy Spirit was first displayed in deep conviction of sin by repentant hearts that suddenly, in the divine light of the Gospel, saw the magnitude of their errors, the wickedness of their conduct toward Jesus, the seriousness of their sins, and the punishment they deserved. This same power of the Holy Spirit created the faith that when placed in Jesus for salvation brought pardon and peace as fruits of Calvary. Thus empty and sad hearts were filled with joy. Baptism followed as a sign of obedience to and identification with him who died, was buried, and rose from the dead.

Once the new Christians became part of the new Church they were not satisfied with merely being members and participating in all the activities and privileges of their new spiritual state. Faith had to manifest itself in a changed life full of good works, the fruits of righteousness. The eyes of the world that for thirty-three years had observed the most admirable and perfect life, that of the Lord Jesus, were now fixed on them. They had to live Christ; or rather, Christ lived in them and made himself manifest to the world through them.

Among the many dangers that now threaten the Christian pulpit, two are particularly common. One danger is that of presenting a Gospel without a biblical basis, without the cross of Christ. Such a message pretends to be modern by adapting itself to the spirit of the times, to a mentality that has departed from the divine purpose both in language and in spirit. Although it pretends to fill a present need, this message has lost authority and spiritual power, influence on lives and hearts. It is empty and hollow, the product of a sophisticated age. Though it professes to be relevant, it cannot be, because the desperate spiritual state of humanity cries out for the true Word of the Gospel.

Another serious danger today is a Gospel that, though rich in Bible quotations, presents the way of salvation as something very easy and asks that one only believe. It is true, of course, that the Scriptures say, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved.” “Only believe” is not merely a slogan but a blessed reality. The grace of God has made it possible for a sinner to receive eternal life, the gift of God, through personal faith. But we must not forget that the same Scriptures underline the fact—so often illustrated in the Gospels and in the Acts of the Apostles—that genuine faith is followed by a life of works, by an undeniable transformation. The sinner becomes a saint, the miser a generous man; the cruel becomes gentle, the proud humble. This is what happened to those who heard and heeded the first Pentecost sermon. They believed in Jesus Christ.

The closing part of Acts 2 tells of those blessed days of heaven on earth. While divine power accompanied the apostles, those who believed had something more than a creed. They had brotherly love. They showed a spirit of self-sacrifice and generosity. Their hearts abounded with works of mercy, faithfulness to doctrine, perseverance in worship, fullness of joy. They were simple and sincere. Their lives were lives of continuous praise to the God they called their Heavenly Father. They were very well thought of by the public. And God gave an astounding but normal growth to the mystical body of Christ, his Church.

While this pattern is many centuries old, it is not an impossible utopian scheme. What God did then he can do now. God has not changed. His Gospel has not lost its power. The Holy Spirit of God is still in the world, convicting men of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment. Human need has grown immensely. There have never been so many destroyed homes, so many broken hearts, so many young people drifting as slaves to vice and sin, so much crime and hate, so much international unrest, so many social problems. There is no peace and even less hope. Only the Gospel has the solution for so much evil, the answer to so many questions, for only the Lord Jesus Christ, the Desire of all nations, can put an end to this tragic state of affairs.

Let us preach the Gospel and nothing else; and may our lives, totally surrendered to the Holy Spirit, demonstrate what we preach. Then the Spirit will accompany the Word of God with his power. And only then will the world hear what it needs: “The voice of God and not of man.”

An invitation to place ourselves anew beneath the Cross of Christ

Four hundred and forty-nine years ago, on October 31, hammer blows fell on the door of the castle church at Wittenberg. These blows echoed quickly on the wings of the wind throughout all the Christian civilized world of that day. The Reformation became a cosmic event of the first magnitude and the threshold of a new Western era.

The World Congress on Evangelism here assembled does well to remember this birthday of the Reformation. In doing so let us consider three points: (1) the various ways of viewing the Reformation; (2) the inner meaning (Selbstverständnis) of the Reformation; and (3) the challenge of the Reformation for us today.

Various Views Of The Reformation

History is the teacher of life; that is, we learn about life from history. Beginning in 1517 the Reformation penetrated the decades and centuries that followed, making a strong impact even upon us in 1966. Unfortunately, the Reformation could not escape being subjected to dire misconceptions.

There are four different views of the Reformation.

1. There is the cultural-historical view. This was particularly popular around 1900. Here Luther is praised as the founder of the German language and as the herald of freedom of conscience. He is lauded as the pioneer of a humanistic view of man. Luther and Erasmus, the Reformation and humanism are drawn together. But it was this optimistic, rosy picture of man as given by Erasmus to which Luther objected sharply. Mankind should have learned from history that the Reformation gained its cause by its biblical and therefore sober and realistic view of man. The horrors of two world wars, the concentration, prison, and internment camps have decisively refuted humanism. Humanism is finished. For in humanism man becomes something harmless and inoffensive. Never dare we put the Reformation and humanism in one package. The cultural-historical view of the Reformation, therefore, is definitely false.

2. There is a nationalistic view. This is represented especially by Paul de Lagarde and by National Socialism. Here Martin Luther is seen as the great German who freed Germany from the bonds and tutelage of Rome. But this nationalistic interpretation of the Reformation is also false. It is true that Luther believed in his people and country, as every Christian ought to do. But something else was of central importance for him. “When Germany buries its last minister,” he said, “then it will be burying itself.” With these words Luther clealy pointed beyond that which is but national to that which truly abides. It was this that was Luther’s concern.

3. There is the confessionalistic view. This appears in both Protestant and Catholic garb. Even today many inside the Catholic church interpret the Reformation as the great downfall of Western man. The Reformation brought about defection from the church. The Reformation, they say, is responsible for the fateful division of Christianity; it even supplies the root for later secularism and for the autonomous man of our times. This view of the Reformation subjects one to a distorted view of history, for the root of secularism and autonomy is not in the Reformation but in the Renaissance. Happily, a change is taking place in the Roman Catholic Church’s view of the Reformation.

But we find an erroneous understanding of the Reformation even among Protestants. There are those who lull themselves into confessional self-satisfaction, become exhausted in polemics against the Roman Catholic Church, and are no longer self-critical. This confessionalistic view of the Reformation is likewise false. Luther did not see himself as a confessionalist; very humbly he saw himself as a preacher of the Word in keeping with the admonition, “Preach the Word!,” given by the Apostle to the Gentiles to his pupil Timothy.

4. There is the view of the Reformation as related to the entire Church. This view has a great deal of truth. It says, for example, that Luther wanted, not a new church, but simply renewal of the existing church. He desired continuation, not inauguration of something new. For this reason the actual birthday of the Protestant church is not October 31, 1517, but rather the first Day of Pentecost, A.D. 33. This view also notes, and properly, that Luther was no revolutionary but rather a reformer. The Reformation was simply something that happened in the Church.

It is likewise correct to say that every one of Luther’s successors bears a responsibility to the entire Church. Even this World Congress is in no way exempt from this responsibility. Yes, we bear responsibility also toward the Roman Catholic Church, for everyone who takes seriously Jesus’ high-priestly prayer in John 17, “Holy Father … may they be one as we are one,” considers the division a great, gaping, bleeding wound in the body of Christ, his Church. For just as there is but one God, so there is but one Church. A divided Christendom is a self-contradiction. Because the successors of the Reformation have a responsibility to the total Church, all of us both inside and outside this Congress Hall are called to confessionalistic cleansing.

No matter how correct this is and remains, no matter how properly it is seen from the total church perspective of the Reformation, nonetheless the Reformation was concerned not about the Church as such but about something else. This brings us to the next point we must consider.

The Reformation’S Inner Meaning

If someone asked, What was the Reformation all about, the answer would include three things: (1) the absolute glory of God; (2) the all-sufficiency of the redemptive work of Christ; (3) the joyous Christian who has assurance of personal salvation. The inner meaning or core of the Reformation, therefore, is Theo- and Christo-centric.

Let us briefly ask ourselves: What is contained in this threefold inner concept of the Reformation?

In the first place, it stresses the absolute glory of God. The basic concern of the Reformation lies in consistently taking seriously the first commandment: “I am the Lord thy God. Thou shalt have no other gods beside me.” Luther’s opposition to the papal church derived from his recognition that it had indeed placed something “beside me.” Because the entire Reformation took very seriously God’s revelation in his Word, the Reformation movement became a movement of the Bible. Because it was concerned for the absolute glory of God, the Reformation was concerned, too, for the honor of God’s Word. This basic passion of the Reformation—to let nothing stand alongside the God revealed in his Word—helps us understand Luther’s revolutionary, and in his day heretical, comment: “Even councils can err!”

This basic concern of the Reformation helps us understand also its denial, not of tradition as such, but of an equal status for Scripture and tradition. The Reformers deeply revered the church fathers. But everything the fathers said was to be measured in the light of the Holy Scriptures. It was this concept of the Bible as the exclusive, determinative norm for all the teaching of the Church, that prompted the poet Konrad Ferdinand Meyer to say of Luther: “He senses the monstrous rupture of the times, and securely clasps his Bible.”

In the matter of God’s glory, the Reformation was concerned about a clear witness to what constitutes ultimate authority (Erstinstanz). And what is this ultimate authority? The triune God. The Reformation found the witness to this triune God in sola scripture, in Scripture alone.

Second, the Reformation was concerned with the all-sufficiency of Christ’s redemptive work. We are wrong if we think that the Reformers were opposed to good works and pious exercises; what they did deny was the meritorious nature of good works. The Reformers vehemently opposed any suggestion of synergism, the false teaching that man cooperates with Christ to bring about faith and does so in a manner that grants him personal merit. All of us somehow have a touch of synergism.

Why should there be this impassioned opposition to cooperatively gained merit? Simply because to the extent that man can help earn his salvation by good works, to that extent Christ’s merit is lessened and thus the all-sufficiency of his redemptive work is undermined. For this same reason we must also understand the Reformation’s total negation of invoking the saints. The Reformation takes seriously the words of Scripture: “If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous” (1 John 2:1b).

In the last analysis, this second principle of the Reformation is concerned with the glory of Jesus Christ, in that it stresses the all-sufficiency of his atoning work and of the objective redemptive facts.

Third, the Reformation is concerned with the joyous Christian who has personal assurance of salvation.

What does this mean?

Despite God’s greatness and incomprehensibility, man is called to the possibility of having the joyous certainty of being a child of God. This means nothing less than that personal assurance of salvation is a special concern of the Reformation. As Luther says: “It is idle talk to say man is uncertain whether or not he is a recipient of grace. Beware lest you ever be unsure; instead, be sure.” This assurance of personal salvation is possible because of the gracious and merciful gift of Christ’s redeeming work. We see, then, that the third concern of the Reformation is closely related to the second.

The Reformation discovers anew the words of Scripture: “Ye know that ye were not redeemed with corruptible things, as silver or gold … but with the precious blood of Christ …” (1 Pet. 1:18, 19); “we know that we have passed from death unto life …” (1 John 3:14).

It was this awareness of personal salvation that brought the joyful Christian into being, that created the freedom a Christian knows in his bondage to Christ. The Reformation proclaimed certitudo, certainty of salvation, over against securitas, security of salvation depending on the number of meritorious works.

First we must note that the problems apparent on October 31, 1517, were different from those of October 31, 1966. The World Congress must take this fact into consideration. This change in problems has come about in two ways: (1) the concept of the world (Weltbild) has changed; (2) the view of man (Menschenbild) has changed.

The prescientific concept of the world still held at the time of the Reformation eventually had to succumb to the scientific view. For many people, this scientific concept of the world is that of natural science, a causal-mechanistic view. In this construct of natural science, this causal-mechanistic view, there is no longer any room for anything that would explode the causal-mechanistic theory. In other words, there is no room for anything miraculous, supernatural, or mystical, no room for anything that deals with wondrous and inexplicable things, no room for soteriology and eschatology.

Just as the concept of the world has changed, so has the concept of man. Today’s man has a different attitude toward life than did medieval man. Today’s man is the man of technology and science.

But I would ask, dear friends, have those two changes—in viewing the world and in attitude toward life—not also thrust the Reformation into the wheel of history, into the panta rhei, the flow of all things? Is it still possible to speak seriously of a challenge of the Reformation?

Paradoxically enough, the answer must be that the very fact of these changed concepts of the world and of man makes attention to the Reformation all the more necessary and the challenge of the Reformation all the more urgent. This we must see.

Challenges Of The Reformation For Us Today

The Reformation presents us with a threefold challenge: (1) that pertaining to supreme authority (Erstinstanz); (2) that pertaining to the correct view of man; and (3) that pertaining to fullness of spiritual power.

The first part of this challenge concerns the matter of supreme authority. It is true that man’s concept of the world has changed. But it is wrong to exalt this changing world view to the place of supreme authority (Erstinstanz). Even logic opposes this. That which changes cannot be norma normans. Only that which itself is removed from the cycle of changeability can be supreme authority. God is this ultimate authority, and not some construct of the world (Weltbild). God is unchangeable.

The Weltbild is even less justifiably enthroned as final authority now that the natural scientific concept of the world has once again been enthroned in our day, and that in fact by natural scientists. The time is past when it is considered possible to absolutize a causal-mechanistic view of the world, and to raise it almost to the status of a philosophy. Even if the existence of God cannot be scientifically proved, neither can it be scientifically denied.

It follows then that if the question about ultimate authority is made clear, and if God and not some concept of the world, not some human rationalistic idea, is the ultimate authority, then the threefold concerns of the Reformation are still fully valid today. Today, therefore, we are still concerned with: the absolute glory of God, the all-sufficiency of Christ’s atoning work, and personal assurance of salvation.

We shall now consider the second challenge of the Reformation, the question of a valid concept of man.

It is true that many people today are influenced and impressed by science and technology. But it is wrong to capitulate to this fact, to make it a gauge for one’s proclamation of the Gospel. It is foolish to argue, for example, that because many people today no longer believe in miracles, we must tell them that there never were any miracles. Any theologian or Christian who does this is offering the white flag of surrender to the followers of science and technology. Such a one is not in a position to be of any real help to modern man.

We must clearly acknowledge that there are those who are indeed influenced by science and technology. In fact, all of us are influenced by these to some extent, and in some manner. But even those who are especially impressed in this way are aware of other and deeper levels of consciousness that are beyond the reach of technology and science. But it is here that the real and essential decisions of life are made.

Apart from technological persons, there are still many more persons whose thinking and emotions are not decisively influenced by technology and science. Against this background, we will see how totally wrong and absurd it is, even from a religious-psychological perspective, for Bishop Robinson (in his book, A New Reformation?) to deal with a concept of man that—although I won’t say it is totally unknown—is what one might at least say is practically non-existent. Moreover, it is the greatest of errors to make this obviously false view of man the yardstick for Christian proclamation.

Let me state the situation clearly: neither some view of the world nor some concept of man can be or can become the ultimate authority (Erstinstanz) for proclamation. While views of the world and of man are not overlooked in the right kind of proclamation, they are subject to correction in the light of the revealed Gospel. The Gospel helps secular man recognize his self-estrangement as, in fact, an estrangement from God.

For these insights into the proper view of man we are indebted to the Reformation in its totality. Seen from this perspective, the Reformation of 1517 becomes real and imperative for us also. We are still concerned with justification of sinners by God and with personal assurance of salvation. Today, when a great deal is being done in depth psychology and when much is in danger of being dissolved in psychologizing, we must tell people in all clarity that assurance of salvation is not something measured by some kind of a barometer of the emotions. If this were so, man would be thrown back on his own resources. And that would be wrong. Assurance of salvation, though it has to do with persons, nevertheless comes from, derives its life from, the fact of salvation. Assurance of salvation comes about through the objective redeeming work of Christ. God imputes it to anyone who personally avails himself of it in an act of faith. Certainty of salvation therefore rests not in man’s psyche but in the redemptive work of Christ.

All that we have said thus far confronts us now in the Reformation’s third challenge for us today, the matter of fullness of power (Vollmacht). The reformation was accompanied by such fullness of spiritual power that it spread like a life-giving breath through much of Europe.

We, on the other hand, suffer because many of our churches are tongue-tied. Yet our many diverse churches and fellowships yearn for a word of authority.

Two questions are prominent, then, as we look back to 1517: (1) what is fullness of power?; and (2) how are we to preach, in order that proclamation may be accompanied by this fullness of power?

To experience fullness of power is to be filled with the power from on high, filled with the Holy Ghost. Fullness of power is total dependence upon Christ and independence of men. It is unconditional assent to Christ and denial of self.

In Jesus, fullness of power as dependence upon God, selflessness, and freedom toward men were coupled with seeking and sacrificial love. “For even the Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45).

Today we have only as much fullness of power as Jesus has power in us. For fullness of power is not a matter of determination. It comes, not by personal choice and of oneself, but from what is given.

All fullness of power in the lives of his Reformation servants is a reflection of Jesus’ indwelling power. Fullness of power is captivity of the conscience to the Lord. It was Luther’s total dependence on Christ and the captivity of his conscience to Christ that prompted him to declare before kaiser and kingdom: “Here I stand, I can do no other. God help me. Amen.” Fullness of power as dependence upon God gives an inner feeling of being able to rise above people and circumstances. This explains Luther’s letter to his sovereign in which he said: “I should rather protect your Highness than that you should protect me.”

Now we consider the second question (2), which concerns the relation between proclamation and fullness of power. First we must distinguish between fullness of power in regard to the message (Sache) and fullness of power in regard to the person. Fullness of power in regard to the message refers to the inescapable validity of the revealed fact of the triune God as given in his infallible Word. Bible criticism destroys fullness of power. Therefore we unhesitatingly say yes to the Holy Scriptures. Fullness of power in regard to the message and in regard to the person are inseparable.

And so, because the concerns of the Reformation are actually the basic concerns of Scripture, it follows that we can expect fullness of power in proclamation today only if we make the foundations of the Reformation in their entirety the basic concern of all our proclamation, teaching, and life.

Authoritative proclamation in preaching and evangelism, in written and spoken word, must have as its purpose the glory of God and the salvation of men.

Today one often hears it said that during the Reformation, man’s main concern was, How shall I apprehend a gracious God? But today, presumably, man’s concern is, How can I have good neighbors? In our response to this widespread attitude, we must make it very clear that certainly we are concerned about good neighbors, whoever they might be—whether American, Russian, Chinese, or even the neighbor on the street or at the office. But we will have gracious neighbors only when men find their way back to a gracious God. Even the anthropological problem of our day is a theological one.

Fullness of power as dependence upon Jesus Christ and independence of men and of theological ideas and trends has in it the courage to face unpopularity. It has also the courage to face the consequences. Such authoritative proclamation must trumpet forth the truth that the deepest reason for the spiritual illness of our feverish world is man’s proud self-glorification, which stops not even at the doors of the church. The constantly greater turning away from God is the basic evil of our times. The scourge of our age is autonomy and anthropocentrism. To the extent that autonomy and anthropocentrism gain room in the Church and in theology, to that extent will the church and theology become savorless, discarded salt; more than this, both will become traitors to the ultimate authority (Erstinstanz) and to the Reformation of 1517.

On the other hand, to the degree that we take seriously the revelation of God as given in his Word and keep it untainted from secular philosophical questionings, inasmuch as the Bible is not at all interested in such, I say, to that degree we may hope God will open the gates of heaven and pour forth torrents of his power that will surge through the Church and theology, through our preaching and our evangelizing.

Authoritative preaching today in 1966 as in 1517 consists in the full, undiluted proclamation of the Kingdom of God. Fullness of power is total absence of compromise in both the message and in the messenger.

Therefore, dear brothers and sisters in Christ, who of us does not see the connection between the Reformation of 1517, this Reformation Memorial Day of 1966, and the World Congress on Evangelism? Is there anyone who does not recognize his personal responsibility?

The Reformation of 1517 shall and must under all circumstances live on, both today and in the future. Never must the Reformation chimes become a death knell. Brothers and sisters in Christ, the Reformation bells of Easter will ring out today also in each of our hearts if we, like our fathers, are filled with the honest determination that to God alone shall be the glory. Soli Deo gloria!

The torch of faith is passed from believer to believer

“When they arrived, they gathered the church together and declared all that God had done with them, and how he had opened a door of faith to the Gentiles (Acts 14:27, RSV).

The major concern of evangelism is winning souls for Christ, “bringing many sons into glory” (Heb. 2:10). The Book of Acts—the book of great events and mighty movements of the Spirit—is the least theological of all the New Testament writings. We find that the apostles advanced no theories of evangelism but shared their experiences when they had gathered the Church together. In that same spirit and conviction I also speak to you (2 Cor. 4:13).

A missionary doctor from England came to the northern tip of Pakistan on the border of Afghanistan to proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ to the followers of Islam. Although the people were illiterate, bigoted, and wild, he labored among them for more than fifty years. The first two converts to Christ were murdered. The next were also martyred. Despite such discouragements, this faithful servant of Christ continued his work until a hospital and chapel had been established in this border town. Today there is a church here of nearly five thousand souls.

Each clay the Gospel was faithfully proclaimed from the hospital. Among those reached was a Muslim businessman who, after his cure was completed, came daily to the out-patients’ ward. Told that he could return home, he indicated that while he knew his body had been cured, he was looking for the cure of his soul. It was my privilege, after instructing him, to baptize this man into the Body of Christ.

After his baptism, this convert from Islam lived by the conviction that if someone came to his door—be it even a postman or tradesman—it was Christ who had sent that person so that he might share the good news. When he went to live among the people of his own tongue, I was very fearful for his life. Several months later he invited me to visit him and, to my amazement, I found in that area a great interest in Christ. The Holy Spirit was truly at work and had gone before us.

Returning home I challenged thirty-four other workers to unite in team evangelism in that area. After four weeks of teaching, sixteen villages signified through their head men that they were prepared to accept baptism. We now have several thousand Christians in this region, and every month more are being brought into the fellowship of Christ’s Church.

Very near my country lies the mystery land of Tibet, fast in its superstition and little known in the outside world. A traveler from Germany returned home and told the story of this vast, mountainous country that had no witness for Christ. Two missionaries from Switzerland were challenged and decided to go there as witnesses. Since they could not gain entry, they settled on the border on the Indian side to wait for God’s time.

About that time, because of political unrest in Tibet, a cultured and educated Tibetan migrated from his country. He chose not the usual routes through Sikkim or China, but an unknown route toward India, and settled on the border. Here he met the two missionaries. At their request he began teaching them the Tibetan language, and the missionaries started a translation of John’s Gospel.

The manuscript of this Gospel fell into the hands of the eleven-year-old son of the Tibetan teacher. Light dawned on the soul of this lad. He accepted Christ as his Saviour and resolved that after his education he would dedicate his life to translating the Bible into Tibetan, so that his people could hear about Christ. He labored for thirty-five years, from the age of twenty-one to fifty-six, until he had completed the translation of the Old and New Testaments.

But there was no type or press to print the Bible. So this elderly man undertook to write the entire manuscript on sensitive paper in his own handwriting from which litho-copies could be made. He worked so hard that his health began to fail. I begged him to employ some scribes, so he chose two men to help him in the writing. Both these men accepted Christ as they read the Bible. Later it was my privilege to publish the Tibetan Bible. Today there are several hundred Christians on the borders of Tibet.

Copies of the Bible, the new Testament, and Scripture portions were sent into Tibet through traders. One of these Bibles got into the hands of the Dalai Lama. Recently he wrote from his exile in India and asked for another copy: he had to leave his Bible behind when the Communists overran his country. We wondered, too, at the unusual demand for Bibles from Tibet. On making inquiries we found that the Communist Chinese were learning the Tibetan language by comparing the Chinese and Tibetan Bibles! “My word shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please” (Isa. 55:11).

I myself was not brought up in the Christian faith but accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as my Saviour when I was twenty-seven. I was born in a Hindu family. My lovely mother would gather us around her and tell us the stories of our gods and goddesses, our heroes and heroines. When I was seventeen, she asked me if I would like to go with her on some pilgrimages. I was thrilled to be invited to travel with her to all the sacred places of India—to the place where Shiva told the eternal tale to Parvati, where Krishna met with Arjuna and the dialogue of Bhagavad Gita was enacted, where sacrifices are offered to the Kali Mata, where Buddha did his meditations; or to the sacred Ganges, where the Yogis have worshipped for thousands of years; or to the place where the god of duty, Ramchandra, performed his penance. I was thrilled. But as I traveled from one holy place to another, I became conscious of an emptiness. I did not sense the presence of God; I had no communication with him.

When I asked my mother about this, she replied, “I know you miss reality, and I miss it too; but our holy books say that if we do these pilgrimages we shall have a reward in the next life.” Mother was in the evening of her life and passed away within eighteen months of those pilgrimages. I remained dissatisfied. I searched for communion with God in Hinduism, which offered me a million lives in which to work out my own salvation. Knowing I had no merit, I found this a terrible prospect. I studied Buddhism only to find that it was an atheistic philosophy in which there is no hope of communion with God, only an agnostic belief in nirvana. I searched Islam, which believes in salvation by works: on the day of reckoning our good deeds will be weighed against our evil ones to determine whether we merit heaven or hell.

Christianity was a foreign religion about which no one had spoken to me, although I had lived in the city of Karachi for seventeen years. For nine long years I wandered in the wilderness, seeking for the reality of God. Then a Christian friend of mine had trouble with his eyes. His doctor told him he would operate in the hope of restoring at least some sight.

As can be imagined, my friend was very much perturbed at the possibility of losing his sight. When I visited him, he said, “I may never be able to read again, to read my Bible again. Will you read it to me?” I took his Bible, and it opened to the fourteenth chapter of John’s Gospel. As I read aloud, I was amazed at the claims of Jesus: “I am the way, the truth, and the life”; “He that hath seen me hath seen the Father”; “I am in the Father, and the Father in me.” And then I read the promise in verse 14: “If ye shall ask anything in my name, I will do it.”

I turned to this Christian friend and said, “This Jesus of yours makes such amazing claims—why don’t we ask him about your eyes?” My friend and I both knelt by his bed and spent most of that night in prayer. That night I became conscious of the reality of God. I turned to my friend and said that when he returned from the hospital seeing, I would follow Jesus. My friend grasped my hand and asked, “Do you believe I will ever see again?” I replied that I believed God had given me my sight and his, too.

We went to the hospital the next morning, a well-known hospital in Simla. A Scotsman was to do the surgery. When the doctor first of all applied some instrument to measure the tension of the eyes, he found the tension reduced. Thinking something was wrong with the instrument he sent for another, only to find that the tension was indeed reduced. Seeing me outside the room the doctor called me in and asked, “What did this man put in his eyes last night? When I examined him last evening, the tension was so high that I decided to do the surgery this morning. Now the tension is greatly reduced!” Then I knew that Jesus truly was alive. I told the doctor about our prayers and how we had felt we were in the presence of God. The doctor shook his head and said, “We don’t believe in miracles.” After thinking a while, he asked, “Were many tears shed while you were praying?” “We were very conscious of the presence of God and of being in his presence,” I replied. The doctor decided it was the tears that had reduced the tension. He would not do the operation then, he said, but should the tension return, the operation would be necessary.

The tension has never returned, and my friend’s eyes cleared up gradually. We both know that Jesus is alive. He is a minister of the Gospel and so am I. But my heart was not satisfied even then. My mother had died, and five million people who spoke my language were without Christ and without the Bible. So I entered a theological college to prepare for the ministry. After ordination I was sent to work in Karachi. But for the first nine months of my ministry I did not win a single soul for Christ, for the college I attended had destroyed the authority of the Word for me and had put all sorts of doubts in my mind.

One day a lady approached me and asked if I believed what I preached. I resented the remark and said, “How dare you ask such a question?” She answered me very humbly, and when I finally confided that I had doubts about the Scriptures, she patiently led me back to my evangelical faith. Since then no week has passed that I have not been privileged to lead someone to the Saviour. We now have more than 30,000 Christians in the Karachi area.

I could cite many more conversions from different backgrounds and show how each person in his own way has been instrumental in “bringing many sons into glory.” But let me close with the story of a convert from Sikhism.

I had been very much concerned because seven million Sikhs had no Bible in the Gurmukhi language. The New Testament had been published, and six editions were sold out. So I started praying that the Lord would indicate who was to translate the entire Bible. As I prayed and shared this burden with friends, everyone seemed to mention one man who was a convert from Sikhism. He lived eighty miles away. I went to see him, only to discover an unkempt creature in a dirty home. There was no evidence of spiritual life or joy. I came away feeling my guidance was wrong. As I continued to pray, the conviction grew that this indeed was the man to be challenged. So I went to him a second time. This time I was even more repulsed and realized that the man was a drug addict.

I returned home without indicating my mission, deeply disturbed in spirit. When I prayed the heavens seemed closed. When I went to see him a third time, the man asked, “Why do you come to see me when you do not love me?” I then told him why I had come; I wanted to challenge him to translate the Scriptures into the Gurmukhi language. But since he was a drug addict, how could I do so? Quiet for a time, he then said, “You believe the Lord has sent you. Go home and pray this night, and I will also do the same. If the Lord guides you, come to see me in the morning.”

I spent most of that night in prayer; the joy and sweetness of prayer returned. When I went to see the man the next morning, he was smiling and his face was shining. There had been a transformation. He was radiant and said, “You have returned; I will do it.” So he undertook the task and in seven years completed the translation of the Old Testament into Gurmukhi. The drug habit was broken. He was liberated, and through his testimony many pundits and gianis (learned men) have accepted Jesus Christ as Saviour.

A convert from Islam, a convert from Tibet, a convert from Hinduism, and a convert from Sikhism: the Lord used each man in his own way as an instrument to open the door of faith to the Gentiles. It was the Lord who gave a passion for souls together with an open door of access and who proved the power of the Word under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. May the same Lord give each one of us a vision of the souls in conflict and reveal to us the resources for life abundant.