Ideas

Theological Default in American Seminaries

The wave of Bultmannian teaching and writing now flooding American seminaries is a sorry commentary on religious thought in this country. Not only does it attest the lack of independent theological virility in America, a fact lamentable in itself; it also repeats the costly tendency to popularize speculative notions already discredited abroad. Before World War II, liberal theologians in America were indoctrinating seminary students with a theology supposedly as up-to-date as tomorrow (the modernism these young professors had absorbed in their doctoral studies abroad). But in the meantime classic modernism was already being discarded in Europe as outworn and untrue. Then the American “frontiersmen” moved toward crisis-theology, and by 1958 almost as many Protestant ministers listed themselves in the neo-orthodox camp as in the modernist movement. Barth and Brunner were the luminaries of these Americans, and little mention was being made of Bultmann. Barth and Brunner, however, were soon to acknowledge Bultmann’s command of the theological dialogue. And now that the Bultmannian empire is breaking up in Europe, the American Protestant seminaries are predictably becoming a Johnny-come-lately Bultmannian circuit.

Amid the professorial cross fire and combat on Continental seminary campuses, most European students are withholding any personal commitment to Bultmann’s theology. They learn Bultmann’s positions, yes, but fly no Bultmannian banners. As George Traar, superintendent for the Evangelical (Lutheran) Church for Vienna, puts it, students are equally interested in “what others are saying—not only Bultmannians, but anti-Bultmannians.” “Bultmann’s solutions are bypassed and his methodology of existential interpretation is under such fire,” says Helmut Thielicke of Hamburg, “that students no longer are transfixed by the claims of the Bultmann scholars, and their minds are open to a hearing for alternative viewpoints.”

“The German students like the ancient Athenians are especially on the lookout for novel points of view,” remarks another Continental theologian. “That is why our textbooks live only for a couple of years. Students are interested in watching a fight—in hearing theologians who make cutting remarks about competitors and colleagues; scholarship and relevance and dialogue no longer seem to assure an atmosphere of enthusiasm. The younger generation now seems more disposed to watch the theological controversy than to join it.”

In America things are worse. Seminary students are content with European leftovers specially seasoned by American dieticians against decomposition.

Despite the decline of Bultmann’s prestige and influence in Europe, and just at the time when Continental scholars and students are veering from a commitment to his views, American divinity students abroad and some seminary professors in the States are rallying to “modern” perspectives already considered dated and doomed on the European side. The latest theological fashions in America have traditionally lagged a half generation or more behind European influences. Subsequently this European inheritance has been carried to radical extremes, long after its underlying presuppositions were abandoned abroad. There are numerous indications that this unpromising process may now be repeated once again.

No wholesale exportation of Bultmannism to the United States is likely, it should be noted, for the simple reason that American philosophy does not contain the background of existentialism which this theology presupposes. Where no background of existential philosophy exists, the Bultmannian insistence that Christianity must be translated into existential categories to become relevant and intelligible to the modern man becomes nonsense. This dissimilar philosophical background is one explanation for the difficulty of negotiating effective American-European theological dialogue on the frontiers of contemporary religious thought.

Yet an avant-garde minority is energetically carrying Bultmann’s theology to the American scene. And through its influence upon ministerial students in the seminaries, the Bultmannian speculation sooner or later will be felt in certain church-related colleges and in the churches themselves. American graduate students abroad, always open to new idols and finding none at home during liberalism’s present transition period, are committing themselves to Bultmannian positions in conspicuously greater numbers than are Continental scholars. At the Montreal Faith and Order Conference in 1963 it became clear that World Council programming hoped to give Bultmann scholars a larger role in the theological dialogue. American seminaries have welcomed an increasing Bultmannian exposure. Bornkamm and Conzelmann have given lectures here in the past; Käsemann comes in 1965 to Yale and San Anselmo; at Drew, Union, Claremont, and Harvard, Bultmannian scholars have served or are now serving as professors. Macmillan will soon publish its volume on Bultmann in the Kegley and Bretall “Living Theologians” series, and denominational as well as secular publishing houses have increased the tempo of Bultmann-oriented religious books. Volumes one and two in the Harper and Row series devoted to European-American dialogue on major theological issues, edited by James M. Robinson and John B. Cobb of Southern California School of Theology, are given over to existentialist concerns. Both books, The Later Heidegger and Theology and The New Hermeneutic, are so heavy and abstruse as virtually to nullify a similar complaint by one of the contributors against German theologians! Yet those who peruse the recent volume entitled The Historical Jesus and the Kerygmatic Christ (Carl E. Braaten and Roy A. Harrisville, editors, Abingdon, 1964), with its essay on this central point of contemporary theological debate, will find the complaint amply justified. Not all the volumes on the margin of the Bultmannian controversy settle for Bultmannian or post-Bultmannian positions. Some, like Hugh Anderson’s Jesus and Christian Origins (Oxford, 1964), deplore the new quest’s correlation of historical inquiry with a special brand of philosophical speculation. Anderson demands a larger role for the historical ingredient in Christianity, yet gives half his case away to the demythologizers. Some of the new works are basic theological tools. But none says openly what needs to be said—that contemporary Protestant theologians are largely lost in wildernesses of speculation, and that further progress can now be made in theology only by asking not where Barth, Brunner, and Bultmann end but where the Bible begins.

Despite the absence of a native American tradition of existential philosophy, other factors contribute a mood compatible with Bultmannian views. The American theological interest in Kierkegaard and in Barth and Brunner as well as in Bultmann has encouraged religious interest in both dialectical and existential premises. Much of American liberalism had already shared neo-orthodoxy’s skepticism over the ontological significance of reason; that is, over the rational structure of the metaphysical world and the competence of human reason to understand spiritual realities. Further, the trend toward analytic philosophy and linguistic analysis has tended to limit the search for universally valid meaning to the world of sense realities. The most influential theological figures in America, Reinhold Niebuhr and Paul Tillich, themselves have emphasized that reason can expound the supernatural realm only in symbolic or figurative categories.

There is, in fact, increasing prospect of a synthesis of the positions of Bultmann and Tillich. This development signifies that neither position has won a permanent hold, and that disciples of each are seeking exterior reinforcement.

Despite its pursuit of the latest fashions in European thought, theology in American seminaries is touching mainly the formative principles that distinguish Bultmannian from non-Bultmannian positions. Whereas European scholars reflect a mood that runs increasingly contrary to Bultmann, American religious speculation at the frontiers reflects much more Bultmannian sympathy. In their studies of the Bultmann tradition, American graduate students abroad scarcely have time to keep up with the most recent books. Many volumes are increasingly critical of Bultmannism; many are not yet translated, and some undoubtedly never will be. It is strange, indeed, that pulpits of university churches and teaching posts in church-related colleges as well as in seminaries so often are reserved for doctorate-holding scholars who return to America as flag-wavers for European systems, especially when abroad these systems are already outmoded and in disrepute.

In view of the breakup of Bultmannian positions, Werner Georg Kümmel of Marburg, president of the Society of New Testament Scholars, cannot understand why “the younger grandsons of Bultmann keep getting chair after chair in the theological seminaries.” “The post-Bultmannians continue to get the spoils,” he comments, “although the unity of the Bultmann school is shattered.”

Many seminaries have become so much the purveyors of abstruse theological speculations, and give so little evidence of a fixed authoritative norm, that they seem to be making themselves theologically dispensable. Contemporary theologizing has become an exceedingly perishable commodity. Doubtless some seminaries remain denominationally or ecumenically indispensable for ecclesiastical objectives. But in a warring age at the brink of self-destruction, when scientists think that 22,300 miles out in space is no place for mistakes, one might wish that the seminaries on terra firma would forego the business of propagating heresy generation upon generation.

It is as true in America as in Europe that on university campuses the theologians are today looked upon as an inferior academic species. Claiming a private pipeline to the supernatural, they refashion their gods every generation. And American theologians are notoriously predictable. Unless they stand in the mainstream of evangelical Christianity, committed to the God of Moses, Isaiah, and Paul, they are forever resurrecting the ghosts of recently buried European dogmatic speculation. The theologians can hardly be fully blamed—they are student-victims of earlier theologians addicted to the same error. And each generation of students seems to drink from the same bitter wells.

No Universalism At The Temple Gate

Concerning Gerhard Kittel’s Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, the Journal of Biblical Literature has aptly commented: “One of the few biblical studies of this generation that is destined for immortality.” Even while manifesting a wide diversity of theological conviction—contributors range the spectrum from Hermann Sasse to Rudolph Bultmann—the Wörterbuch has managed to make itself virtually indispensable to serious biblical scholarship.

One article in Geoffrey W. Bromiley’s English translation of the first volume (Eerdmans, 1964) is of particular significance to the current theological ferment in this country concerning the doctrine of universalism. Debate is particularly lively among American Baptists in a contest over the nature of that denomination’s evangelistic thrust.

Leipzig scholar Albrecht Oepke wrote the Wörterbuch article on apokatastasis, which means basically “restitution to an earlier state” or “restoration.” The word appears only once in the New Testament. After healing the lame man at the temple gate, Peter spoke to the crowd that gathered: “Repent ye therefore, and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out, when the times of refreshing shall come from the presence of the Lord: and he shall send Jesus Christ, which before was preached unto you: whom the heaven must receive until the times of restitution of all things, which God hath spoken by the mouth of all his holy prophets since the world began” (Acts 3:19–21).

Origen (c. 185–c. 254) understood apokatastasis to mean the restoration of all created beings. Though rejected by official theology, especially in the West, Origen’s teaching has found followers such as Scotus Erigena, F. D. Schleiermacher, and more recent universalists. But Oepke points out that the neuter gender of “all things” in the Acts passage means that apokatastasis “cannot denote the conversion of persons but only the reconstitution or establishment of things.” Oepke’s words merit careful attention in the current debate: “On the question whether the [New Testament] teaches a final restoration of all fallen sinners, and even of Satan, to the harmony of all created things in God, no light is shed by this particular text. In general such an idea is just as remote from the NT world of thought as the Jewish.”

What Evangelism Is

There is much confusion regarding the nature of evangelism. Can it truly be described as “social legislation,” as being “buddy-buddy” with people, as demonstrating kindness to those in need—“changing a tire for a fellow,” for instance?

Evangelism is not “letting one’s light shine,” important as that is. Rather is it telling of the One who is the Light and the Life. Evangelism is a message of God’s supreme act of redeeming love in Christ, available to all who will receive it.

Physicians now and then face the problem of dealing with Christian Scientists, whose denial of the actuality of disease is frustrating. If persisted in, such denial can be fatal for the victim.

Within Protestantism itself there is far too little recognition of the fact and consequences of sin and of the remedy God has provided in his Son in redeeming men from the guilt and penalty of sin.

Evangelism centers in the great facts of Christ crucified, dead, buried, and risen again. Omit this true center of evangelism and the substitute is unworthy and unavailing. Our Lord commissioned his disciples to be witnesses of the One who alone “opens their eyes, turns them from darkness to light, from the power of Satan unto God, that they might receive forgiveness of sins, and inheritance among them who are sanctified by faith” (Acts 26:18).

Evangelism is not telling people what to do for mankind or for God but telling them what Christ has done for them. On this foundation the Church must be built.

Signs Of A Bultmann-Tillich Merger

The theological scene now reflects increasing prospect of a synthesis of the viewpoints of Bultmann and Tillich. Talk of such a synthesis signifies that neither man’s position has fully won a permanent hold, and that disciples of both are seeking exterior reinforcement. Otto Weber of Göttingen has recently noted the growing impact of Tillich’s philosophy upon Bultmann’s position, because Tillich’s thought includes an appealing apologetic element absent from Bultmann’s presentation.

Quite understandably, Bultmann would be less than happy over a synthesis. All such mergers of systems are ideological reductions, and they imply that neither of the positions involved is independently adequate. Bultmann still criticizes Tillich’s view as “less Christological and more philosophical”; one critic notes that Bultmann promotes independence of all philosophy, existentialism excepted. Moreover, Bultmann disowns Tillich’s interest in psychology and depth psychology, because of his own distinction of true-being and non-being and his understanding of man on the basis of Worthaftigkeit.

Nonetheless, some components are common to both viewpoints, and there are noteworthy similarities between the two scholars. Both have influenced many young intellectuals—divinity students more than scientists. Both are more theological in their sermons than in their systematic theology. Both oppose traditional dogmatics and ontology from the standpoint of critical reason. Both reject any knowledge of God objective to personal decision. In respect to anthropology, moreover, Bultmann says Tillich and he concur. Both scholars have sharply accommodated Christianity to modern philosophy of science. Yet Bultmann professedly seeks a Christological systematics, while Tillich’s structure is more obviously that of a religious philosophy.

Bultmann insists on the reality of a personal God who specially confronts all men in the Word alone; Tillich, on the other hand, considers personality as applied to the Unconditioned purely symbolic, and finds a special side in all general revelation. Tillich’s influence in Europe has thus far been impeded by his lack of emphasis on historical criticism and on the newer exegesis ruling the field. Aspects of his thought, however, are now being reworked by the so-called Pannenberg scholars, who consider history and exegesis within the framework of a revelational concept. Above all else, the trend toward a synthesis of these systems signifies that both European and American liberalism have entered upon a major period of dissatisfaction and transition.

The Triple Revolution

Common to American news commentators is the delusion that extremism in the United States is more typical of the political right than of the left. The stigma of radicalism, they imply, attaches to a long string of right-wing groups besides the K.K.K. and the John Birch Society, while except for the Communists all left-wingers are commendably respectable.

But to identify conservatism mainly in terms of white-backlash and Red-baiting maligns rather than understands the movement. At grass-roots level, the citizenry intuitively recoils from such distortions.

Multitudes of Americans believe that this is a time for second thoughts about socialism, and not, as the left-wingers would have it, a time for growing acceptance of a social philosophy that expands the incursion of bureaucratic government into the private sectors of life.

Recently an amazing document was prepared and commended to the White House by the Ad Hoc Committee on the Triple Revolution, whose spokesman appears to be W. H. Ferry, vice-president of the Fund for the Republic’s so-called Center for the Study of Democratic Institutions in Santa Barbara. The document declares that the cybernation revolution (automation), the weaponry revolution (nuclear missiles), and the human rights revolution (civil rights crusade) demand a new society in which (take a deep breath here!) the traditional doctrine of work and reward must be discarded and an income assured to all persons irrespective of work. In short, the thirty or more signers of the research paper call for a massive increase of public funds in the private sector. In writing of “the wave of the future,” they propose no new panacea but a society not unlike the Marxian state which rewards man not for his effort but according to his needs (or wants, as it will appear). The society of the future bears outlines of the corporate state and also has elements of a fascist philosophy.

In their letter to President Johnson, the minute-men of the triple revolution assert that “the very near future” will require “public measures that move radically beyond any steps now proposed or contemplated.” If their proposals are ignored, they say, “the nation will be thrown into unprecedented economic and social disorder.” This “new science of political economy will be built on the encouragement and planned expansion of cybernation,” they add. And cybernation, in turn, will require an answer to such questions as these: “What should be the basis for distributing individual access to national resources? Are there other proper claims on goods and services besides a job?” Since over 8,000,000 people are assertedly unemployed (many admittedly no longer in search of jobs) and 38,000,000 (one-fifth of the nation) are said to live in “poverty,” bold action is urged.

And what do these apostles of abundance, these men who have no sense of scarcity, propose? For one thing, new patterns of income distribution must recognize the disadvantaged Negro’s special plight among “the millions of impoverished.” We are told that “the economy of abundance can sustain all citizens in comfort and economic security whether or not they engage in what is commonly reckoned as work.… We urge, therefore, that society, through its appropriate legal and governmental institutions, undertake an unqualified commitment to provide every individual and every family with an adequate income as a matter of right.” (All politicians ready to run on this platform please line up on the moderate left!) “The unqualified right to an income would take the place of the patchwork of relief measures—from unemployment insurance to relief.…” The establishment of this “right to an income will prove to have been only the first step in the reconstruction of the value system of our society.…”

Before detailing “practical” proposals for implementing the abundant society, one may be forgiven for noting that, when the significance of the concept of right is thus corroded, nobody need be surprised if some political commentators can no longer tell left from right or right from wrong. In a society where the relation between work and income is broken, it would appear to be unjust, if not unwise, for anybody to work. We are unconvinced that such a workless utopia can emerge from a finite, fallen world by the miracle of paper pamphlet assurances.

The document’s signers are pregnant with specific interim proposals: federal programs for training an additional 100,000 teachers annually; $2 billion or more annually for public works programs: a massive cooperative public-private housing program for 700,000 to 1,000,000 units annually; federally financed rapid transit systems; a public power system; major tax revision to redistribute income; empowerment of trade unions to bargain for the jobless as well as for the workers; and enlargement of government licensing and regulation in the cybernatic age. In a word: “Planning agencies should constitute the network through which pass the stated needs of the people at every level of society.… A principal result of planning will be to step up investment in the public sector.… A central assumption of planning institutions would be … that the nation is moving into a society in which production of goods and services is not the only or perhaps the chief means of distributing income.”

It is no wonder that enlightened spokesmen in both political parties voice mounting concern over the federal government’s growing incursion into private life. For the triple revolutionists, the present national concessions to socialism represent a half-way house to welfare statism; the conservative movement, on the other hand, views the present compromise as a malignancy whose destructive consequences for a free society can be avoided only by radical surgery.

The Passing Parade

Youth, it seems, will have its idols, and the Beatles are hardly the worst of all human possibilities. They are no “four-footed beasts” but unshorn, creepy creatures who slyly beat the barbers. They defy rationality more than morality.

The Bible says, “Keep yourselves from idols.” But it also utters that reassuring word, “An idol is nothing.” These idols too shall pass.

Squared Away—For What?

The conclusion of nominations by the Democratic National Convention now finds the two major parties and candidates squared away in a contest for popularity and votes that will be waged relentlessly, perhaps fiercely, until the November elections.

It has often been affirmed that Christians should prove themselves a nation’s best citizens. Unfortunately this does not always eventuate. Far too many regard lightly the privilege and duty of voting. None should be confused by the phenomenon of partisan politics—that men of equal gifts and piety, or the lack of these, will inevitably be found on both sides.

The primary concern of Christians is that righteous principles shall prevail. To that end they should pray and work. While taking neither side among parties and personalities, CHRISTIANITY TODAY sincerely hopes that statesmanship shall prevail over expediency, and that America’s image abroad shall be that of a nation which values honor and principle above all else.

For more than thirty years American foreign policy has been largely based on accommodation. More and more this is proving a snare and a delusion. Compromise of principle never pays. Lavish use of money cannot compensate for an obscure righteousness. Neither device will win friends or establish peace.

The Christian citizen’s primary duty is to make his influence felt in the home, in the market place, and in the polling booth. Righteousness in national and international dealings and Christian character in her citizens make a nation great. On the other hand, sin corrodes from within and, unless checked, leads to national oblivion.

Relevance That Breeds Irrelevance

The relevance of the Church to the world of today depends on her understanding of her mission and message. In the midst of a secular and temporary world her mission must be spiritual, her message geared to the eternal. Otherwise she fails.

Social concerns are leading many Christian spokesmen to ignore the regeneration of the human heart, that spiritual dynamic by which alone reformation can be effected. Without giving priority to the spiritual and eternal, the Church can never discharge her responsibility to the world or to her Lord. The frantic effort to make the Church “relevant” to the world of today often reflects more concern about the living conditions of the prodigal in the far country than about bringing him back to his Father.

Peripheral concerns are valid, but not to the neglect of concerns that are central. A study of the debates and actions of most major denominations yields the sober conclusion that should all their recommendations for social action be carried out, men would still be lost and without Christ.

The Apostle Paul was concerned about many things within the church at Corinth. But he based his ministry on the gospel message, which he affirmed to be of “first importance.” He stated that message clearly: “That Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures.” Only as that message comes first can the Church be relevant to the needs of the world today. Concern for peripheral matters can become a tragic excuse for neglecting that which should come first.

In Defense Of Property Rights

So prominently has the erosion of property rights figured in this generation’s loss of liberty that one may take heart from a recent Conference on Humane Economy that set sights on this theme. Meeting in Appleton, Wisconsin, at The Institute of Paper Chemistry, affiliated with Lawrence College, almost two dozen distinguished American economists, historians, and political scientists deplored the growing incursion of government into the arena of private property, and particularly into the decision-making process.

The diminution of property rights, in the view of the Wisconsin conference, amounts actually to a diminution of the self. This verdict is a wholesome antidote to the prevalent contrast of human rights and property rights. When man’s goods are expropriated, his deeds coerced, his decisions dictated, his thoughts controlled, he is injured in his humanity.

The right of private property needs to be vigilantly protected today, when the attack on property rights takes many subtle forms—economic, political, psychological, ecclesiastical, and even pseudo-theological. The biblical supports for a philosophy of human freedom and responsibility need special emphasis in an age when political decision-makers readily cast themselves as divine arbiters of a never-never land of compulsion and coercion. Neglect of high intellectual interest in questions of property and ownership has, in fact, contributed to the climate of indifference in which socialist influences have increasingly modified historic American ideals, institutions, and practices. Happily, signs are now multiplying of a mounting concern over the erosion of property rights, and of a widening dedication to the defense of private property.

Theology

History and Faith

The student of the New Testament should be primarily an historian. The centre and core of all the Bible is history. Everything else that the Bible contains is fitted into an historical climax. The Bible is primarily a record of events.

That assertion will not pass unchallenged. The modern Church is impatient of history. History, we are told, is a dead thing. Let us forget the Amalekites, and fight the enemies that are at our doors. The true essence of the Bible is to be found in eternal ideas; history is merely the form in which those ideas are expressed. It makes no difference whether the history is real or fictitious; in either case, the ideas are the same. It makes no difference whether Abraham was an historical personage or a myth; in either case his life is an inspiring example of faith. It makes no difference whether Moses was really a mediator between God and Israel; in any case the record of Sinai embodies the idea of a covenant between God and His people. It makes no difference whether Jesus really lived and died and rose again as He is declared to have done in the Gospels; in any case the Gospel picture, be it ideal or be it history, is an encouragement to filial piety. In this way, religion has been made independent, as is thought, of the uncertainties of historical research. The separation of Christianity from history has been a great concern of modern theology. It has been an inspiring attempt. But it has been a failure.

Give up history, and you can retain some things. You can retain a belief in God. But philosophical theism has never been a powerful force in the world. You can retain a lofty ethical ideal. But be perfectly clear about one point—you can never retain a gospel. For gospel means “good news,” tidings, information about something that has happened. In other words, it means history. A gospel independent of history is simply a contradiction in terms.…

The Bible contains a record of something that has happened, something that puts a new face upon life. What that something is, is told us in Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. It is the life and death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The authority of the Bible should be tested here at the central point. Is the Bible right about Jesus?

The Bible account of Jesus contains mysteries, but the essence of it can be put almost in a word. Jesus of Nazareth was not a product of the world, but a Saviour come from outside the world. His birth was a mystery. His life was a life of perfect purity, of awful righteousness, and of gracious, sovereign power. His death was no mere holy martyrdom, but a sacrifice for the sins of the world. His resurrection was not an aspiration in the hearts of His disciples, but a mighty act of God. He is alive, and present at this hour to help us if we will turn to Him. He is more than one of the sons of men; He is in mysterious union with the eternal God.

That is the Bible account of Jesus. It is opposed today by another account. That account appears in many forms, but the essence of it is simple. Jesus of Nazareth, it maintains was the fairest flower of humanity. He lived a life of remarkable purity and unselfishness. So deep was His filial piety, so profound His consciousness of a mission, that He came to regard Himself, not merely as a prophet, but as the Messiah. By opposing the hypocrisy of the Jews, or by imprudent obtrusion of His lofty claims, He suffered martyrdom. He died on the cross. After His death, His followers were discouraged. But His cause was not lost; the memory of Him was too strong; the disciples simply could not believe that He had perished. Predisposed psychologically in this way, they had visionary experiences; they thought they saw Him. These visions were hallucinations. But they were the means by which the personality of Jesus retained its power; they were the foundation of the Christian Church.

There, in a word, is the issue. Jesus a product of the world, or a heavenly being come from without? A teacher and example, or a Saviour? The issue is sharp—the Bible against the modern preacher. Here is the real test of Bible authority. If the Bible is right here, at the decisive point, probably it is right elsewhere. If it is wrong here, then its authority is gone. The question must be faced. What shall we think about Jesus of Nazareth?

From the middle of the first century, certain interesting documents have been preserved; they are the epistles of Paul. The genuineness of them—the chief of them at any rate—is not seriously doubted, and they can be dated with approximate accuracy. They form, therefore, a fixed starting-point in controversy. These epistles were written by a remarkable man. Paul cannot be brushed lightly aside. He was certainly, to say the least, one of the most influential men that ever lived. His influence was a mighty building; probably it was not erected on the sand.

In his letters, Paul has revealed the very depths of a tremendous religious experience. That experience was founded, not upon a profound philosophy or daring speculation, but upon a Palestinian Jew who had lived but a few years before. That Jew was Jesus of Nazareth. Paid had a strange view of Jesus; he separated Him sharply from man and placed Him clearly on the side of God. “Not by man, but by Jesus Christ,” he says at the beginning of Galatians, and he implies the same thing on every page of his letters. Jesus Christ, according to Paul, was man, but He was also more.

That is a very strange fact. Only through familiarity have we ceased to wonder at it. Look at the thing a moment as though for the first time. A Jew lives in Palestine, and is executed like a common criminal. Almost immediately after His death He is raised to divine dignity by one of His contemporaries—not by a negligible enthusiast either, but by one of the most commanding figures in the history of the world. So the thing presents itself to the modern historian. There is a problem here. However the problem may be solved, it can be ignored by no one. The man Jesus deified by Paul—that is a very remarkable fact. The late H. J. Holtzmann, who may be regarded as the typical exponent of modern naturalistic criticism of the New Testament, admitted that for the rapid apotheosis of Jesus as it appears in the epistles of Paul he was able to cite no parallel in the religious history of the race.

The raising of Jesus to superhuman dignity was extraordinarily rapid even if it was due to Paul. But it was most emphatically not due to Paul; it can be traced clearly to the original disciples of Jesus. And that too on the basis of the Pauline Epistles alone. The epistles show that with regard to the person of Christ Paul was in agreement with those who had been apostles before him. Even the Judaizers had no dispute with Paul’s conception of Jesus as a heavenly being. About other things there was debate; about this point there is not a trace of a conflict. With regard to the supernatural Christ Paul appears everywhere in perfect harmony with all Palestinian Christians. That is a fact of enormous significance. The heavenly Christ of Paul was also the Christ of those who had walked and talked with Jesus of Nazareth. Think of it! Those men had seen Jesus subject to all the petty limitations of human life. Yet suddenly, almost immediately after His shameful death, they became convinced that He had risen from the tomb and that He was a heavenly being. There is an historical problem here—for modern naturalism, we venture to think, an unsolved problem. A man, Jesus, regarded as a heavenly being, not by later generations who could be deceived by the nimbus of distance and mystery, but actually by His intimate friends! A strange hallucination indeed! And founded upon that hallucination the whole of the modern world!

So much for Paul. A good deal can be learned from him alone—enough to give us pause. But that is not all that we know about Jesus; it is only a beginning. The Gospels enrich our knowledge; they provide an extended picture.

In their picture of Jesus the Gospels agree with Paul; like Paul, they make of Jesus a supernatural person. Not one of the Gospels, but all of them! The day is past when the divine Christ of John could be confronted with a human Christ of Mark. Historical students of all shades of opinion have now come to see that Mark as well as John (though it is believed in a lesser degree) presents an exalted Christology, Mark as well as John represents Jesus clearly as a supernatural person.

A supernatural person, according to modern historians, never existed. That is the fundamental principle of modern naturalism. The world, it is said, must be explained as an absolutely unbroken development, obeying fixed laws. The supernatural Christ of the Gospels never existed. How then explain the Gospel picture? You might explain it as fiction—the Gospel account of Jesus throughout a myth. That explanation is seriously being proposed today. But it is absurd; it will never convince any body of genuine historians. The matter is at any rate not so simple as that. The Gospels present a supernatural person, but they also present a real person—a very real, a very concrete, a very inimitable person. That is not denied by modern liberalism. Indeed it cannot possibly be denied. If the Jesus who spoke the parables, the Jesus who opposed the Pharisees, the Jesus who ate with publicans and sinners, is not a real person, living under real conditions, at a definite point of time, then there is no way of distinguishing history from sham.

On the one hand, then, the Jesus of the Gospels is a supernatural person; on the other hand, He is a real person. But according to modern naturalism, a supernatural person never existed. He is a supernatural person; He is a real person; and yet a supernatural person is never reall A problem here! What is the solution? Why, obviously, says the modern historian—obviously, there are two elements in the Gospels. In the first place, there is genuine historical tradition. That has preserved the real Jesus. In the second place, there is myth. That has added the supernatural attributes. The duty of the historian is to separate the two—to discover the genuine human traits of the Galilean prophet beneath the gaudy colors which have almost hopelessly defaced His portrait, to disentangle the human Jesus from the tawdry ornamentation which has been hung about Him by naive and unintelligent admirers.

Separate the natural and the supernatural in the Gospel account of Jesus—that has been the task of modern liberalism. How shall the work be done? We must admit at least that the myth-making process began very early; it has affected even the very earliest literary sources that we know. But let us not be discouraged. Whenever the mythical elaboration began, it may now be reversed. Let us simply go through the Gospels and separate the wheat from the tares. Let us separate the natural from the supernatural, the human from the divine, the believable from the unbelievable. When we have thus picked out the workable elements, let us combine them into some sort of picture of the historical Jesus. Such is the method. The result is what is called “the liberal Jesus.” It has been a splendid effort. I know scarcely any more brilliant chapter in the history of the human spirit than this “quest of the historical Jesus.” The modern world has put its very life and soul into this task. It has been a splendid effort. But it has also been—a failure.

In the first place, there is the initial difficulty of separating the natural from the supernatural in the Gospel narrative. The two are inextricably intertwined. Some of the incidents, you say, are evidently historical; they are so full of local color; they could never have been invented. Yes, but unfortunately the miraculous incidents possess exactly the same qualities. You help yourself, then, by admissions. Jesus, you say, was a faith-healer of remarkable power; many of the cures related in the Gospels are real, though they are not really miraculous. But that does not carry you far. Faith-healing is often a totally inadequate explanation of the cures. And those supposed faith-cures are not a bit more vividly, more concretely, more inimitably related than the most uncompromising of the miracles. The attempt to separate divine and human in the Gospels leads naturally to a radical scepticism. The wheat is rooted up with the tares. If the supernatural is untrue, then the whole must go, for the supernatural is inseparable from the rest. This tendency is not merely logical; it is not merely what might naturally be; it is actual. Liberal scholars are rejecting more and more of the Gospels; others are denying that there is any certainly historical element at all. Such scepticism is absurd. Of it you need have no fear; it will always be corrected by common sense. The Gospel narrative is too inimitably concrete, too absolutely incapable of invention. If elimination of the supernatural leads logically to elimination of the whole, that is simply a refutation of the whole critical process. The supernatural Jesus is the only Jesus that we know.

In the second place, suppose this first task has been accomplished. It is really impossible, but suppose it has been done. You have reconstructed the historical Jesus—a teacher of righteousness, an inspired prophet, a pure worshipper of God. You clothe Him with all the art of modern research; you throw upon Him the warm, deceptive, calcium-light of modern sentimentality. But all to no purpose! The liberal Jesus remains an impossible figure of the stage. There is a contradiction at the very centre of His being. That contradiction arises from His Messianic consciousness. This simple prophet of yours, this humble child of God, thought that He was a heavenly being who was to come on the clouds of heaven and be the instrument in judging the earth. There is a tremendous contradiction here. A few extremists rid themselves easily of the difficulty; they simply deny that Jesus ever thought He was the Messiah. An heroic measure, which is generally rejected! The Messianic consciousness is rooted far too deep in the sources ever to be removed by a critical process. That Jesus thought He was the Messiah is nearly as certain as that He lived at all. There is a tremendous problem there. It would be no problem if Jesus were an ordinary fanatic or unbalanced visionary; He might then have deceived Himself as well as others. But as a matter of fact He was no ordinary fanatic, no megalomaniac. On the contrary, His calmness and unselfishness and strength have produced an indelible impression. It was such an one who thought that He was the Son of Man to come on the clouds of heaven. A contradiction! Do not think I am exaggerating. The difficulty is felt by all. After all has been done, after the miraculous has carefully been eliminated, there is still, as a recent liberal writer has said, something puzzling, something almost uncanny, about Jesus. He refuses to be forced into the mould of a harmless teacher. A few men draw the logical conclusion. Jesus, they say, was insane. That is consistent. But it is absurd.

Suppose, however, that all these objections have been overcome. Suppose the critical sifting of the Gospel tradition has been accomplished, suppose the resulting picture of Jesus is comprehensible—even then the work is only half done. How did this human Jesus come to be regarded as a superhuman Jesus by His intimate friends, and how upon the foundation of this strange belief was there reared the edifice of the Christian Church?

In the early part of the first century, in one of the petty principalities subject to Rome, there lived an interesting man. Until the age of thirty years He led an obscure life in a Galilean family, then began a course of religious and ethical teaching accompanied by a remarkable ministry of healing. At first His preaching was crowned with a measure of success, but soon the crowds deserted Him, and after three or four years, He fell victim in Jerusalem to the jealousy of His countrymen and the cowardice of the Roman governor. His few faithful disciples were utterly disheartened; His shameful death was the end of all their high ambitions. After a few days, however, an astonishing thing happened. It is the most astonishing thing in all history. Those same disheartened men suddenly displayed a surprising activity. They began preaching, with remarkable success, in Jerusalem, the very scene of their disgrace. In a few years, the religion that they preached burst the bands of Judaism, and planted itself in the great centres of the Graeco-Roman world. At first despised, then persecuted, it overcame all obstacles; in less than three hundred years it became the dominant religion of the Empire and it has exerted an incalculable influence upon the modern world.

Jesus, Himself, the Founder, had not succeeded in winning any considerable number of permanent adherents; during His lifetime, the genuine disciples were comparatively few. It is after His death that the origin of Christianity as an influential movement is to be placed. Now it seems exceedingly unnatural that Jesus’ disciples could thus accomplish what He had failed to accomplish. They were evidently far inferior to Him in spiritual discernment and in courage; they had not displayed the slightest trace of originality; they had been abjectly dependent upon the Master; they had not even succeeded in understanding Him. Furthermore, what little understanding, what little courage they may have had was dissipated by His death. “Smite the shepherd, and the sheep shall be scattered.” How could such men succeed where their Master had failed? How could they institute the mightiest religious movement in the history of the world?

Of course, you can amuse yourself by suggesting impossible hypotheses. You might suggest, for instance, that after the death of Jesus His disciples sat quietly down and reflected on His teaching. “Do unto others as you would have others do unto you.” “Love your enemies.” These are pretty good principles; they are of permanent value. Are they not as good now, the disciples might have said, as they were when Jesus was alive? “Our Father which art in heaven.” Is not that a good way of addressing God? May not God be our Father even though Jesus is now dead? The disciples might conceivably have come to such conclusions. But certainly nothing could be more unlikely. These men had not even understood the teachings of Jesus when He was alive, not even under the immediate impact of that tremendous personality. How much less would they understand after He had died, and died in a way that indicated hopeless failure! What hope could such men have, at such a time, of influencing the world? Furthermore, the hypotheses has not one jot of evidence in its favor. Christianity never was the continuation of the work of a dead teacher.

It is evident, therefore, that in the short interval between the death of Jesus and the first Christian preaching, something had happened. Something must have happened to explain the transformation of those weak, discouraged men into the spiritual conquerors of the world. Whatever that happening was, it is the greatest event in history. An event is measured by its consequences—and that event has transformed the world.

According to modern naturalism, that event, which caused the founding of the Christian Church, was a vision, an hallucination; according to the New Testament, it was the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. The former hypothesis has been held in a variety of forms; it has been buttressed by all the learning and all the ingenuity of modern scholarship. But all to no purpose! The visionary hypothesis may be demanded by a naturalistic philosophy; to the historian it must ever remain unsatisfactory. History is relentlessly plain. The foundation of the Church is either inexplicable, or else it is to be explained by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. But if the resurrection be accepted, then the lofty claims of Jesus are substantiated; Jesus was then no mere man, but God and man, God come in the flesh.

We have examined the liberal reconstruction of Jesus. It breaks down, we have seen, at least at three points.

It fails, in the first place, in trying to separate divine and human in the Gospel picture. Such separation is impossible; divine and human are too closely interwoven; reject the divine, and you must reject the human too. Today the conclusion is being drawn. We must reject it all! Jesus never lived! Are you disturbed by such radicalism? I for my part not a bit. It is to me rather the most hopeful sign of the times. The liberal Jesus never existed—that is all it proves. It proves nothing against the divine Saviour. Jesus was divine, or else we have no certain proof that He ever lived. I am glad to accept the alternative.

In the second place, the liberal Jesus, after He has been reconstructed, despite His limitations is a monstrosity. The Messianic consciousness introduces a contradiction into the very centre of His being; the liberal Jesus is not the sort of man who ever could have thought that He was the Messiah. A humble teacher who thought He was the Judge of all the earth! Such an one would have been insane. Today men are drawing the conclusion; Jesus is being investigated seriously by the alienists. But do not be alarmed at their diagnosis. That Jesus they are investigating is not the Jesus of the Bible. They are investigating a man who thought He was Messiah and was not Messiah; against one who thought He was Messiah and was Messiah they have obviously nothing to say. Their diagnosis may be accepted; perhaps the liberal Jesus, if He ever existed, was insane. But that is not the Jesus whom we love.

In the third place, the liberal Jesus is insufficient to account for the origin of the Christian Church. The mighty edifice of Christendom was not erected upon a pinpoint. Radical thinkers are drawing the conclusion. Christianity, they say, was not founded upon Jesus of Nazareth. It arose in some other way. It was a syncretistic religion; Jesus was the name of a heathen god. Or it was a social movement that arose in Rome about the middle of the first century. These constructions need no refutation; they are absurd. Hence comes their value. Because they are absurd, they reduce liberalism to an absurdity. A mild-mannered rabbi will not account for the origin of the Church. Liberalism has left a blank at the beginning of Christian history. History abhors a vacuum. These absurd theories are the necessary consequence; they have simply tried to fill the void.

The modern substitute for the Jesus of the Bible has been tried and found wanting. The liberal Jesus—what a world of lofty thinking, what a wealth of noble sentiment was put into His construction! But now there are some indications that He is about to fall. He is beginning to give place to a radical scepticism. Such scepticism is absurd; Jesus lived, if any history is true. Jesus lived, but what Jesus? Not the Jesus of modern naturalism! But the Jesus of the Bible! In the wonders of the Gospel story, in the character of Jesus, in His mysterious self-consciousness, in the very origin of the Christian Church, we discover a problem, which defies the best efforts of the naturalistic historian, which pushes us relentlessly off the safe ground of the phenomenal world toward the intellectual abyss of supernaturalism, which forces us, despite the resistance of the modern mind, to recognize a very act of God, which substitutes for the silent God of philosophy the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, having spoken at sundry times and in divers manners unto the fathers by the prophets, hath in these last days spoken unto us by His Son.

The resurrection of Jesus is a fact of history; it is good news; it is an event that has put a new face upon life. But how can the acceptance of an historical fact satisfy the longing of our souls? Must we stake our salvation upon the intricacies of historical research? Is the trained historian the modern priest without whose gracious intervention no one can see God? Surely some more immediate certitude is required.

The objection would be valid if history stood alone. But history does not stand alone; it is confirmed by experience.

An historical conviction of the resurrection of Jesus is not the end of faith but only the beginning; if faith stops there, it will probably never stand the fires of criticism. We are told that Jesus rose from the dead; the message is supported by a singular weight of evidence. But it is not just a message remote from us; it concerns not merely the past. If Jesus rose from the dead, as He is declared to have done in the Gospels, then He is still alive, and if He is still alive, then He may still be found. He is present with us today to help us if we will but turn to Him. The historical evidence for the resurrection amounted only to probability; probability is the best that history can do. But the probability was at least sufficient for a trial. We accepted the Easter message enough to make a trial of it. And making trial of it we found that it is true. Christian experience cannot do without history, but it adds to history that directness, that immediateness, that intimacy of conviction which delivers us from fear. “Now we believe, not because of thy saying; for we have heard him ourselves, and know that this is indeed the Christ, the Saviour of the world.”

The Bible, then, is right at the central point; it is right in its account of Jesus; it has validated its principal claim. Here, however, a curious phenomenon comes into view. Some men are strangely ungrateful. Now that we have Jesus, they say, we can be indifferent to the Bible. We have the present Christ; we care nothing about the dead documents of the past. You have Christ? But how, pray, did you get Him? There is but one answer; you got Him through the Bible. Without the Bible you would never have known so much as whether there be any Christ. Yet now that you have Christ you give the Bible up; you are ready to abandon it to its enemies; you are not interested in the findings of criticism. Apparently, then, you have used the Bible as a ladder to scale the dizzy height of Christian experience, but now that you are safe on top you kick the ladder down. Very natural! But what of the poor souls who are still battling with the flood beneath? They need the ladder too. But the figure is misleading. The Bible is not a ladder; it is a foundation. It is buttressed, indeed, by experience; if you have the present Christ, then you know that the Bible account is true. But if the Bible were false, your faith would go. You cannot, therefore, be indifferent to Bible criticism. Let us not deceive ourselves. The Bible is at the foundation of the Church. Undermine that foundation, and the Church will fall. It will fall, and great will be the fall of it.

Two conceptions of Christianity are struggling for the ascendency today; the question that we have been discussing is part of a still larger problem. The Bible against the modern preacher! Is Christianity a means to an end, or an end in itself, an improvement of the world, or the creation of a new world? Is sin a necessary stage in the development of humanity, or a yawning chasm in the very structure of the universe? Is the world’s good sufficient to overcome the world’s evil, or is this world lost in sin? Is communion with God a help toward the betterment of humanity, or itself the one great ultimate goal of human life? Is God identified with the world, or separated from it by the infinite abyss of sin? Modern culture is here in conflict with the Bible. The Church is in perplexity. She is trying to compromise. She is saying, Peace, peace, when there is no peace. And rapidly she is losing her power. The time has come when she must choose. God grant she may choose aright! God grant she may decide for the Bible! The Bible is despised—to the Jews a stumblingblock, to the Greeks foolishness—but the Bible is right. God is not a name for the totality of things, but an awful, mysterious, holy Person, not a “present God,” in the modern sense, not a God who is with us by necessity, and has nothing to offer us but what we have already, but a God who from the heaven of His awful holiness has of His own free grace had pity on our bondage, and sent His Son to deliver us from the present evil world and receive us into the glorious freedom of communion with Himself.

Theology

The Great Delusion

(First in a Series on Satan)

When the enemy is camouflaged, it is easy to fail to recognize him or, even worse, to think he does not exist.

An often quoted saying of Professor Emile Cailliet should constantly remind us of the danger in which we find ourselves: “Experienced students of Christianity have pointed out that among Satan’s accomplishments the neatest of them all is that of persuading so many people that he does not exist.”

Probably at no time in history have so many who should be engaged in the battle against Satan and his works succumbed to the delusion that he does not exist. “Evil?” they say. “Oh, yes, we believe that evil exists in the world, but it is the manifestation of a symptom, something to be overcome by education, information, and organization.” And all the while the Devil smugly smiles because he has deluded minds and can carry on his work of deceiving and destroying.

We could hardly believe that the personality of Satan could be denied were it not for the increasing number of ministers within the Christian Church who obviously do just that. Going out to do battle against evil, they deny or ignore the source of evil and are therefore ignorant of Satan’s devices.

The Apostle Paul had no such delusion. Writing to the Corinthian church he says: “Lest Satan should get an advantage of us: for we are not ignorant of his devices” (2 Cor. 2:11).

Satan is a malignant personality in revolt against God who unceasingly seeks the destruction of man. The names he is given in the Bible indicate both his nature and his methods. Deceiving mankind, inciting disobedience to and rebellion against God and his holy commands, the Devil wages an unceasing war against God and his creation.

The Devil is the father of lies, the instigator of unbelief, the murderer of men’s souls. He does not hesitate to give the lie to God while at the same time he leads his own children into sin.

Children? Yes, just that. Our Lord, speaking to the Pharisees who were opposing him, said: “Ye are of your father the devil”; and we read in First John: “In this the children of God are manifest, and the children of the devil” (3:10a). Just as God has his children through regeneration, so Satan has his children by natural birth—the children of wrath. Little wonder that our Lord says, “Ye must be born again.”

We are aware of how this jars the feelings of some, but the fact remains that the cultured, educated, sophisticated, wealthy dowager of Fifth Avenue, if she is without Christ, is a child of Satan just as is the ignorant voodoo woman of the jungle.

When Christians ignore or play down the role of Satan, he is able to deceive with impunity. When the Gospel is preached it is the Devil who snatches the seed from unwary hearts. When the seed takes root it is the Devil who sows tares in its midst, confusing the world and hampering the Christian.

The subtle workings of Satan are a reality that must always be taken into account. It is sobering that no man can withstand the Devil in his own strength.

Even Christians have difficulty realizing that ours is a continuous warfare against the implacable enemy of God and man. Phillips has translated Ephesians 6:12 with a vividness that would make saints cringe but for the fact that we belong to the One who has overcome the Devil and who gives victory for the believer: “For our fight is not against any physical enemy: it is against organizations and powers that are spiritual. We are up against the unseen power that controls this dark world, and spiritual agents from the very headquarters of evil.”

Just as God’s angels are ministers of his loving care, so Satan’s agents—demons—work unceasingly to do his bidding. To deny or ignore the existence of the enemy and his minions is to lay ourselves open to certain defeat.

The “special forces” of our armed services receive training in deception and camouflage because they are to fight a deceptive enemy. Stories coming out of South Viet Nam tell again and again of grenades thrown from ambush, of loss of life because our men fail to recognize a well-disguised enemy on a crowded street.

The Christian must continually be aware of Satan and of the multiplicity of his methods and attacks. For this reason Paul admonishes us to “put on the whole armor of God.” As we study the components of that armor, we are reminded of the necessity for the inward qualities of the heart that come alone from the indwelling Christ and the outward manifestations of regeneration that are the work of his Spirit.

Then we are reminded of the one weapon against which Satan cannot stand, the Word of God, the Sword of the Spirit. Little wonder that from the beginning the Devil has feared and tried to give the lie to God’s Word!

Finally, Paul tells us to “pray at all times,” indicating the continuing battle, its spiritual nature, and the spiritual remedy.

Satan works in a multitude of ways. He is literally “as smart as the Devil,” and woe to that one who does not believe in Satan’s existence or who thinks he himself has the resources to defeat the enemy.

The Devil’s methods are designed to thwart us in every good endeavor, to confuse the issue, to lead us into shadow-boxing when the real danger is elsewhere. He points in one direction to distract our attention while he carries out his purposes elsewhere.

Our Lord gives us clear warning: “I will warn you whom to fear: fear him who, after he has killed, has power to cast into hell; yes, I tell you, fear him!” (Luke 12:5, RSV). In Hebrews we read of Christ, “That through death he might destroy him who has the power of death, that is, the devil” (2:14b).

That Satan will ultimately be destroyed in person and in power gives little comfort until we have, at the personal level, found victory in Christ.

This writer is convinced that the cause of many personal problems among Christians and of many in the Church is our failure to recognize the enemy and to make use of the God-given means of defeat of Satan and victory for ourselves.

A part of the Apostle Paul’s commission from his risen Lord was, “To open their eyes, that they may turn from darkness to light and from the power of Satan to God” (Acts 26:18a, RSV). How often do we hear this imperative mentioned? Too rarely. And what mention there is usually is made by preachers in the smaller and less sophisticated churches!

It would appear that in our sophistication we have become victims of the great delusion—that Satan does not exist.

What a victory … for the Devil!

Climbing ‘Spencer’s Mountain’

Friends had recommended Spencer’s Mountain as a “religious” picture we would enjoy. This Warner Brothers production is not an “advanced” or “adult” film but simply an ordinary Hollywood portrayal of American life, set in the beautiful country around Grand Teton in western Wyoming. The story concerned the Spencer family, poor in earthly things but rich in affection and ambition. The mother was a devout, Bible-believing member of the Church of God—a fundamentalist. With one exception, a time when she lied rather weakly, she was presented as a conscientious and good person. The father was a poker-playing, profane, drinking man who was devoted to his family and served his community well but who openly ridiculed his wife’s religion.

The plot dealt with two crises that hit the family. The first was an accident in which Spencer cut down a large tree that fell upon and killed his father. In the funeral service that followed, the simple faith of the Church of God people was shown with a deeply moving dignity and warmth that revealed something of the real magnificence of Protestantism. But if the picture showed what faith can do for people, it also showed what people can do for themselves. For in the second crisis, the family worked to get the oldest son into college, and the non-Christian father’s determination brought the family through to victory.

One might suppose that we came away that night grateful for the “climb” up “Spencer’s Mountain.” After all we had seen some things that had enriched our own faith and life. But we did not come away grateful. We came away incensed and soiled. What might easily have been a shining hour showing family life at its best, showing human beings in the rich texture of their relationships to God and to one another, was turned into what might be described as a kind of “spiritual nightmare.” We watched sex stupidly cheapened to the point of repulsiveness. We saw modesty and dignity shamelessly pushed aside.

This criticism is strong, but it is not too strong. Consider this business of choosing a “good” picture. Many church people try to follow the PTA reviews or in some other way to distinguish between desirable and undesirable films. Thus a parent may forbid a high school boy to see La Dolce Vita and encourage him to see Ben Hur. But although this type of choice is still possible it is becoming increasingly difficult, for even in the better films there is much questionable material.

How has this come about? For one thing, to accept all that is now being shown on the screen is regarded by many as a mark of sophistication. It is considered provincial to have puritanical standards or to register embarrassment. Perhaps it is true that a certain breadth of outlook is good for us. But when people reach the point where nothing seems to shock them, sophistication is un-Christian. The simple truth is that much of what now passes for sophisticated fare on the screen is little more than vulgarity. We have lost the courage to call it by its right name.

Another attempted justification for inserting degrading material into the average picture is that films must show life as it is. But realism does not mean following people into their bedrooms when they undress or staying with them while they take a bath.

Three Indictments

How was this film with an acceptable plot, a competent cast, and beautiful scenery spoiled? Spencer’s Mountain comes under indictment on three counts.

First, the audience was spared little in the way sex was handled. In one way or another, the film concerned itself with the bathroom habits of children, the developing physique of young girls, the sexual adventures of teen-agers, the breeding of cattle (a snickering reference), and the marital bed.

One scene calls for special comment. The Spencer boy had a young girl friend, and few details of their love-making were left to the imagination of the audience. The camera came in close for their kisses, the movement of their hands, and the profile of their figures. While such scenes seemed in bad taste, one could at least understand them as a part of the Hollywood bait. But there was an episode where even this was impossible. The two teen-agers secured a large, “unexpurgated” dictionary in order that they might look up “dirty words,” as the young girl, who throughout the picture seemed obsessed with sex, put it. The audience then watched the wondering and wandering eyes of the boy as the girl led him on.

Sex is a central fact of life hallowed by God in the Scriptures, and the screen can hardly avoid it. But the cheap and suggestive way it intruded into Spencer’s Mountain constitutes a challenge the Church can no longer ignore. Young people who see that kind of film may be morally hurt by it.

Consider next the profanity in the picture. Years ago profanity was never permitted on the screen. Today the standard is radically different, with careless and frequent profanity the accepted practice. Those who defend this say that there are people who swear and that, if they are to be shown honestly, they must be shown as they are. That is only partially true. People should be shown as they are, but respect for the audience should limit that portrayal to what is in good taste.

A third indictment of this film concerns the image it gave of the Protestant pastor. I make no prejudiced demands on Hollywood with respect to the Church and its ministers. Let them be shown as they are, and let the chips fall where they will. But the characterization should certainly be fair. Spencer’s Mountain was dishonest in its portrayal of the Church of God preacher. This young man was introduced in a scene in which he met Spencer while trout fishing. Spencer offered him a drink of whiskey that the young pastor accepted, after being told that it was a “mosquito repellent.” He drank and eventually fell into the river. I know ministers who drink on occasion, but I doubt whether there is a preacher in the country who would drink whiskey without knowing what he was doing. The minister was made to appear stupid.

We hear much talk these days about the “post-Protestant” and even the “post-Christian” era in which we live. On the many factors involved in our spiritual decline, I leave the verdict in other hands; but I am sure of at least one contributing cause. Increasingly the movies are spreading their sludge across the land. Our young people know more and more about the pleasure-obsessed, cocktail-drinking, swearing, gambling, and sexually undisciplined way of life. The scandal of the frequently divorced stars of former years has now given way to open promiscuity among leading actors.

One result of this week-by-week indoctrination is that the American people are beginning to accept Hollywood’s standards as the norm for conduct. A situation has developed that we in Church leadership have been slow to realize and may now be even slower to admit. We face a real conflict, with Hollywood on one side and the Church on the other.

What Might Be Done

As I see it, three developments are possible in this conflict. First, Hollywood could change its ways. This it ought to do out of compassion for the human beings who are being tempted and perhaps destroyed by its films. The average director must know what happens to a girl who finds herself expecting a baby out of wedlock. He must know the tragedy of a broken home. Does he, then, knowingly and willingly entice youth into moral quicksands? Would he be willing to have his own teen-age daughter filmed as the blond girl in Spencer’s Mountain? How would he feel if he found his high school son and a girl studying the language of prostitution and perversion on a date? Hollywood ought to face the fact that it is helping to undermine the moral character of a great nation. Should the industry respond to the Church’s conscience on that question, the Church would have won a significant victory.

Secondly, things could remain as they are. The film industry might decide to continue its present practices regardless of church criticism. There is abundant evidence that this is exactly what it intends to do. And the Church, confronted by this policy, might accommodate itself to the new environment without realizing it has made a serious compromise with the world. There is evidence also that this is happening. There was a time, I believe, when the Church would not have accepted the Taylor-Burton affair. Today there is little real protest. Should the Church accommodate itself to this new environment in which Hollywood sets the standard, then Hollywood would have won a significant victory and the Church would face further deterioration.

The third possibility is that the Church might once again train its people to be in the world but not of it. For those who have been schooled in the idea that the Church ought to be thoroughly involved in the problems of society, the very mention of a religion that calls for withdrawal from the world suggests something distasteful and futile. What good does it do to live in an ivory tower of faith, they ask, if the world is going to pieces? Is not withdrawal basically selfish?

There is no question whether Christianity ought to be relevant to our modern world. No church will have influence if it retreats while the great social and ethical questions of our day are being fought out. Nevertheless, we must be concerned that spirituality and moral values are being sabotaged in the modern motion picture. If Hollywood continues to offer such fare, we shall have to withdraw in order to save our own sense of values. That is neither cowardly nor unrealistic. It is merely common sense. In the Christian life, it is not only what is inside us that establishes our values; our environment also has its effect. The most devout Christian cannot withstand indefinitely the suggestive, cynical, and vulgar material now being offered on the screen.

Charles R. Bell, Jr., is the pastor of the First Baptist Church of Pasadena, California. He received the Ph.D. degree from Brown University, the Th.M. from the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, and the D.D. from Kalamazoo College. Dr. Bell has served on the General Council of the American Baptist Convention.

Eutychus and His Kin: September 11, 1964

WHAT’S THE WORD?

“And he spake three thousand proverbs: and his songs were a thousand and five. And he spake of trees, from the cedar tree that is in Lebanon even unto the hyssop that springeth out of the wall: he spake also of beasts, and of fowl, and of creeping things, and of fishes.” Thus the record in First Kings 4 for King Solomon. I wonder if he could hold his own with a New York cab driver, at least as cab drivers are quoted by hard-pressed columnists. Me, I get beyond cab drivers. Let me tell you about the driver of an airport limousine. (Nothing but the best for CHRISTIANITY TODAY!)

We were going to the St. Louis airport, and in that whole long limousine I was the only passenger. So we talked first about the stoplights, and he observed that “if you get the first one wrong, the rest of them will be wrong for the whole trip.” (I think there is a sermon lurking there.) Then he asked me if I liked the air-conditioning, and I said X did. He said he didn’t, because he hadn’t been too well and he thought the air-conditioning gave him sinuses. But when I told him to go ahead and turn it off, he said No, No; I guess he preferred a little martyrdom each day, especially if it was properly noticed.

In reply to my further discreet inquiry about his health, he said he thought he had a stomach ulcer because before driving the airport limousine he had been driving a cross-country tour bus, “and them people can sure ulcer a fellow.” (A lot of people ulcer me, too.) But the good old job, he said, had been when he was driving a pack team of supplies every week up some valley in Montana (my favorite state, by the way). Then the conversation turned to pack mules, guns, rattlesnakes, and blacksnakes—“and if a feller ain’t seen a blacksnake for awhile he’d better watch out for rattlesnakes.” Well, I haven’t seen many blacksnakes lately!

As we parted I thought I should say a good word for Christ. How would you touch that man’s mind and heart? “I’ll tell you one thing for sure,” I said. “God loves you.” “Yeah,” he said, “I’ve heard all that.” But if he ever really hears it the ulcer just may go—or even his sinuses.

EUTYCHUS II

AFRICA

Your (July 31) issue on AFRICA: CONTINENT IN CRISIS is superb. You are to be congratulated on such a fine piece of research in an area of the world where reliable statistics are not easy to secure.

The five major regional articles are lucid, comprehensive, penetrating, and eminently fair to all concerned. The authors show wide acquaintance with their subject and good judgment.

Enclosed please find my check … [for] copies for my students in missions.

J. HERBERT KANE

Director of Missions

Lancaster School of the Bible

Lancaster, Pa.

Could you please send … twenty copies for our Africa prayer group.

KEITH M. HOOD

Grace Church of Santa Barbara

Santa Barbara, Calif.

Your survey of the Protestant impact on Africa offers much that is heartening, some that is disturbing—and certain discrepancies. These discrepancies come to light when figures and ratios used by your correspondents are compared with those in the table of statistics. This would seem explainable only by the almost total ignoring of the French Protestant missions in Africa by the observers who reported their surveys.

Before me I have a report of the Société des Missions évangeliques de Paris, outdated (October, 1945), it is true, but revealing that after the descriptions of the occupations, there were still three overseas members of the Reformed Church of France to each of the 700,000 Continental Protestants. Your tabular summary reflects, for instance, that the Protestant community on Madagascar substantially outnumbers Roman Catholics (1,445,751 to 1,174,455), that Cameroon has 554,254 Protestants. The Paris Society also reported a quarter-million believers in what was then Frendi Equatorial Africa, with 150,000 in French West Africa.

An interesting sidelight, however, is revealed in a personal letter from Dr. Roland de Pury, who serves the Malagasy Church. “Our churches are weak,” he notes, “because of the prevalence of ancestor worship. It would almost seem that these people are more afraid of offending ghosts than of slighting their Saviour”.…

C. J. KEARNEY

Alexandria, Va.

I … noted that under “Africa: Religious Population” … the statistics [listed] 318,000 Jewish people.…

There are many more Jewish people presently in Africa on a non-resident basis. Likewise, thousands of Jews have had to flee from Algeria and Morocco in the past three years. Many Jews who had no particular religions convictions have concealed their identities and are generally bypassed in such a census.

Unfortunately … even less is done in Africa to evangelize the Jews than the little which is done to point Muslims to Christ.

MARTIN MEYER ROSEN

Minister in Charge

Los Angeles District Headquarters

American Board of Missions to the Jews

Hollywood, Calif.

I have read your July 31 issue on Africa with considerable interest and would appreciate the opportunity to point out … the following inaccuracies and misconceptions. On page 5 it is stated that the Dutch Reformed Church is the “state church” in South Africa. There is of course no state church in South Africa. The churches enjoy complete independence.…

On page 15 the Reverend Don K. Smith states that “the Republic of South Africa is proposing to erect barbed-wire fences on its boundaries, and traffic is checked at an immigration post at the site of Livingstone’s great discovery, the Victoria Falls.” The Reverend Mr. Smith made this statement in the context of describing rigid “boundaries” in Southern Africa. The barbed-wire fences which South Africa is erecting are to contain animal foot-and-mouth disease originating in the British protectorates, particularly Bechuanaland, and have no significance whatsoever in the sense the Reverend Mr. Smith implies. South Africa also has no immigration post at the Victoria Falls, only a customs office at Beit Bridge, the northern entrance to the country on the Limpopo River.…

E. M. RHOODIE

Public Affairs Officer

Information Service of South Africa

New York, N. Y.

As a subscriber who usually finds CHRISTIANITY TODAY worthwhile, I have just discarded the current issue on Africa. I hope there will be no more special issues. Few readers read all of a journal. When the contents range freely over a wide field, there will always be one or two items of interest. On a one-shot deal like a special issue, the shot misses many readers.…

J. TROY HICKMAN

Corpus Christi, Tex.

The issue contains a wealth of helpful material, and it represents an enormous achievement.…

EUGENE R. BERTERMANN

Executive Director

The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod Foundation

St. Louis, Mo.

Issues of this type are, in my judgment, as important as those on the heavier or deeper side.… All the splendid items combine, in my opinion, to make this particular number quite a memorable one.

WILLIAM J. JONES

American Sunday-School Union

Philadelphia, Pa.

POLITICAL SCENE

I am surprised that in your analysis of “GOP Ticket: The Religious Factors” (July 31 issue) you did not mention Gold-water’s habit of profanity. More than once on television I have heard this man refer lightly to the name of God.…

LYNDON B. PHIFER

Tallahassee, Fla.

If “Liberty, Fraternity, and Equality” were revolutionary words in the eighteenth century, then “UN-ism, World Brotherhood, and Peace” are the words for today’s self-styled “revolutionaries.” When these topics are subtracted from popular religious statements there remains little for individual souls who seek identity with the Divine and escape from an ever-increasing authoritarian collectivism. The sincere seeker today sees Christianity divided into two hate-filled camps, both shouting invectives—“fundamentalists fascist” and “modernistic marxist”—and both sides base their attacks on love! CHRISTIANITY TODAY provides a source of inspiration which churches so long have ignored.…

ERNEST S. LEMIEUX

Chaplain, U. S. Navy

U. S. Naval Weapons Laboratory

Dahlgren, Va.

ONE WORLD, One CHURCH

Dr. Max Lackmann of Germany is in our country speaking to college, seminary, and other groups, and is advocating the physical reunion of the Roman Catholic Church with Protestant churches (including the Lutheran Church). Dr. Lackman has also written a book on Catholic Unity and the Augsburg Confession which is on display in a library of a theological seminary in Leningrad, Russia, along with other books by liberal and modernistic authors, who deny some fundamental teachings of the Bible. The union of all churches into one world-wide church is also the underlying and hidden purpose of the National Council of Churches, the World Council of Churches, as well as the United Nations. By all these movements toward one church and one world government we are paving and preparing the way for … anti-Christ.

EMIL H. MUELLER

Covina, Calif.

THE NEWS FROM PRAGUE

You are to be congratulated on the news report … “Engineering Peace in Prague” (July 31 issue). Thank God your publication was represented. This is the type of information that needs to be widespread.

R. WILLIAMS

Woodland Hills, Calif.

It should alert all evangelical Christians to wake up. Christianity and Communism cannot co-exist without Christianity being the loser.

ODIE GREGG

Hackleburg, Ala.

RESTORATION

I appreciated so very much your news report of the North American Christian Convention (July 31 issue).…

I think that you have not only presented the facts regarding the Restoration Movement but have captured the very spirit which is giving to it life.

EARL C. HARGROVE

President

Lincoln Christian College

Lincoln, Ill.

YOUR REPORT … CLEARLY AND ACCURATELY REPRESENTS THE GENIUS OF THIS CONVENTION. WE ARE ONE WITH YOU IN THE OBJECTIVE OF CHRISTIANITY TODAY “TO HELP RESTORE TO PROTESTANTISM THOSE PRINCIPLES AND PURPOSES ESTABLISHED BY THE APOSTLES.…”

PAUL BENJAMIN

National Information Director

North American Christian Convention

Lincoln, Ill.

I was very pleasantly surprised.…

Most usually our group has been referred to as the Disciples of Christ. I am happy to know there are those who are beginning to see the trend of modernism which has crept into the Disciples churches, and also to see the position taken by independent churches.

NORMAN E. TONEY

Church of Christ

Mount Auburn, Ill.

Your accuracy in handling the position of each of the various segments is much appreciated, and is indicative of a keen understanding by Mr. Farrell. The divisions are most unfortunate, … yet each does appreciate accurate reporting.

GENE DULIN

Toronto Christian Mission, Inc.

Toronto, Ont.

THE GOSPEL

L. Nelson Bell (A Layman and his Faith, July 31 issue), in his analysis of the race problem from the Christian viewpoint, has said what should have been said a long time ago by the leaders of our major denominations. When church leaders should have been reprimanding the self-proclaimed martyrs among the clergy who went into the South to stir up trouble and get themselves arrested, they were blindly patting on the back those who were making such irresponsible gestures.

It would seem that we have become so enamored with our own importance that we are telling God that the preaching of the Gospel is too slow a method of doing his work; that since we have not been successful enough with our preaching and teaching, we will force it upon an ungodly society, whether they want it or not. Truly, as Mr. Bell says, “she [the Church] is offering a mess of temporal pottage” to a world in need of the saving grace of God. Too much of the Church’s effort is nothing more than good sociology, and maybe even that could be debated.…

J. RAY NEISER

The Methodist Church

Lacrosse, Wash.

None will argue for the establishment of concord by means of tyranny.

However, we must beg leave to claim justification of “those church leaders who have left their pulpits for the streets.” Whether an elect saint is preaching Christ crucified or risen, or endeavoring to advance through chinks in the racial barrier, he will achieve no victory (or defeats) by remaining in the officers’ mess in time of battle. “A work of regeneration” cannot be brought about in the Assembly of the Regenerate … but must be accomplished “out there.” It is only “in the streets” that men need to hear someone “preach the way to a new heart,” or utter “words of reconciliation,” or minister the “message of a balm to the soul”; only in the streets can the love of Christ be shed abroad in the hearts of men.…

HENRY A. GOERTSON

New Westminster, British Columbia

In these troublous times, marked by much shallowness, Dr. Bell is to be commended for his depth of perception and discernment.

MARY L. LYONS

West New York, N. J.

COMMUNICATION

I have read with interest the article on “The Morals Revolution and the Christian College,” by David L. McKenna, in the June 19 issue.… I am sympathetic to the point of view in the article, but I’m afraid it is unlikely to get the student cooperation which the author hopes for. I feel it is too hostile, e.g. the caption, “A Plan for Striking Back”.… I think the “open communication” called for will not come to pass because the tone of the article is too dogmatic, with little evidence of real feeling for our awareness of the feelings of youth.…

LESTER A. KIRKENDALL

Dept. of Family Life and Home Admin.

School of Home Economics

Oregon State University

Corvallis, Ore.

TO BRIDGE A CONTINENT

Concerning what might be called the “Synchronized Service”: A few months ago a brand-new experience came to me unsought, and the impression was so deep and profound I should like to share it with my fellow ministers especially. One of my members lost her daughter in the province of British Columbia, at the other end of Canada from where we are. It was not possible by reason of age for the parents to travel all that way, and yet they felt that at the hour of the service they should like to be linked in that bond which is the “communion of saints.”

I was asked to conduct a service timed as near as possible allowing for the time barrier which separates East from West and this to be conducted in the home of the parents. It was simple, and a deep sense of that unity which united us in sorrow as in joy was refreshingly evident. If other ministers have had this experience I would like to know, for it seemed to me that this was a “new frontier” of comfort that should be explored, for the sake of the loved ones and our Master. In my friend’s own words, she felt that she was very near the loved ones in Western Canada and she did not feel spiritually isolated.

WILLIAM BLACK

St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church

Dresden, Ont.

RELIGION AND THE SUPREME COURT

The July 17 issue of CHRISTIANITY TODAY carries a long letter by Mr. Floyd Robertson of the Office of Public Affairs of the National Association of Evangelicals. This letter seems to be written on the assumption that states’ rights are the most important element of the American political system. Another assumption, equally false, seems to be that a constitution should never change by interpretation.

Mr. Robertson correctly asserts that before 1940 and the historic Cantwell v. Connecticut case the United States Supreme Court did not control the actions of states respecting religious practices. He apparently believes that this was the proper relationship. In view of the Constitution of 1789 it was, perhaps, the proper relationship. But the Constitution has changed a great deal since 1789 both in terms of interpretation and in terms of amendment. The resultant change and especially the change that occurred with the ruling in the Cantwell case have been notable achievements in the defense of freedom of religion. Were it not for Mr. Robertson’s devotion to states’ lights, he would recognize that the Cantwell and subsequent cases on free religion that rest on the Cantwell decision have been the landmarks of American constitutional history reflecting our rights of the free propagation of religious beliefs.

Since that great and memorable Cantwell case, the Supreme Court in a host of decisions has broadened religious liberty by striking down limiting state and local laws. Some of these laws restricted the distribution of tracts on the streets, some of them restricted door-to-door propagation of religious beliefs, some of them denied the right of use of public places such as parks and streets for religious witnessing, and one of them forced children against their beliefs to salute the flag. These the Supreme Court, on the basis of the Cantwell case, struck down as invasions of freedom of religion.

Those of us who think that freedom of religion is the highest of all political values can do nothing but applaud the chain of cases which began with the Cantwell case.…

WALFRED H. PETERSON

Prof. of Political Science

Bethel College

Saint Paul, Minn.

CHRISTIAN SCHOOL AND THE BAGEL

The June 19 issue contained two letters (Eutychus) telling of the need for more Christian schools on the elementary and secondary level. Both writers held to the position (as I do) that more of these schools are needed today.…

All too often we see Christian schools sacrifice quality education for mere doctrinal training.… Forgotten is the need for employing state-certified administrators and teachers, the construction of adequate buildings, and the functional equipping of classrooms.

While I realize that one of the primary aims of the Christian school is to help win the student to Christ and to build a sound biblical frame of reference within him as he matures in the Christian life, the physical, intellectual, social, and emotional development of the student must also be taken into consideration.

During my graduate study in the area of Christian education I examined Christian schools, in both their philosophy and practice. It bothered me to see Christian grade and high schools without libraries, gymnasiums, cafeterias, science labs, and so on. How can these students be trained to their fullest for God if the tools with which to train them are missing?

Yes, money is the big problem. How many Christians are refusing to support Christian schools because the local Christian school is more concerned about training the child in some narrow doctrinal mold rather than help him to integrate his growth in the Christian graces into his total growth pattern, and to relate this growth to the needs of the world around him?…

Unless our evangelical schools are founded and operated on sound evangelical and educational principles and are operated in and with buildings, equipment, and educators that are comparable to those found in the neighboring public schools, we as evangelicals will never be able to conduct the schools which we need to do the job which we are not now doing.

DICK CRIST

Portland, Ore.

After twelve years in public schools I went to an excellent Christian liberal arts college for four years and then spent three years in a large state university. For me, both secular and Christian educational experiences were excellent.

But I learned at the university that one major drawback from my Christian college years (among many benefits) was a loss of contact with the real world of beer and bagels. In my life and in the lives of friends from Christian colleges I noticed an extraordinary difficulty in witnessing for Christ to people in this outside world.…

If four years of Christian college can partition reality and blunt the witness, then twelve more years can only maximize this Christian isolationism. For if we start with Christian playmates in the Christian kindergarten and follow them all the way through to their Christian college graduation (plus, perhaps, Christian graduate school), what should we be prepared for but a Christian world afterwards?

And the tragic thing is this: all too often a Christian world is attained. By making careful (but by now quite natural) choices—Christian friends, Christian partner or business associates, Christian organizations, and a full round of activities in a Christian church—this product of a thoroughly Christian education succeeds in fulfilling that well-known commandment: “Be ye neither in the world nor of the world.”

ROLAND F. CHASE

Frankfurt am Main, Germany

HIGH COST OF LOW STANDARDS

I have read with genuine interest each article that you have published in CHRISTIANITY TODAY on the church-related college. My interest in the Christian college is of long standing. I took my undergraduate work in a church-related college and have taught for thirty-nine years in one.…

Two years ago there came to my home a young man with a problem, and his problem being one under which I had suffered for many years, I naturally was moved by it. This young man is now a teacher in the public schools; he is married and father of two children. He had been convinced by the literature and personal visitations from a representative of a much advertised college to select it for his undergraduate work. True—the college was not a member of any standardizing association, neither did its faculty carry the approved number of teachers with earned doctor’s degrees, and its material equipment [was] below standard. He was assured that these things made but little difference, as its faculty was definitely Christian. He chose to invest not only a large amount of money but also four years of his life. He is now a teacher who truly loves his work. He would like to advance in his profession, but in order to do so he finds that he must do graduate work and secure advanced degrees, and that no graduate school of desired standing will accept him without [his doing] additional work and [securing] a degree from an accredited college. The requirements now placed on this man if he is to advance in his profession are next to impossible; yet if he is to advance he must recognize and accept the standards of his profession.…

A businessman who knowingly sells a bill of inferior goods to any individual through misrepresentation is not Christian, and it is my conviction that the selling of education is no different than the selling of a piece of merchandise.

R. E. MOHLER

McPherson, Kan.

NO COFFEE ALLOWED

Joe has been reading your magazine and has gotten quite worked up over the cigarette squabble. “It’s a personal matter,” he said. “And besides, a similar case can be made out against coffee.”

I didn’t see how this could possibly be true until I began to read on the subject and to recall some events in my own life. These supported Joe’s contention. There were two clippings in my file, as follows:

1. A fire in the Blue Mountains National Forest destroyed over 5,000 acres of timber last week. Rangers investigating the fire blamed it on a half-drunk cup of coffee, carelessly thrown from a car. The hot coffee is thought to have ignited the dry grass along the road.

2. The Wide World apartment building was completely destroyed by fire last night with the loss of ten lives. Investigations so far indicate that the fire was caused by a half-consumed cup of coffee left standing on a bedside table when the occupant fell asleep.

My own experiences were as follows:

Many times when I returned home from travel by bus or plane my wife has said, “Where have you been? Your clothes reek of coffee.”

I have been embarrassed often by the sight of otherwise respectable people blowing coffee fumes into each other’s faces. A careless diner dribbled coffee grounds on my sleeve. A thoughtless coffee addict burned my child’s arm with his hot cup.

The airlines know how dangerous coffee can be. Going to board a plane I passed a sign which said, “No coffee drinking beyond this point.” When I got to my seat, a sign in front of me said, “Fasten seat belts. No coffee drinking.”

It was a pretty solemn day when the doctor told us our uncle was dying of cancer of the lungs. “Probably from drinking too much coffee,” he said. His subsequent remarks indicated that he was warning the rest of us. But I’ll be O.K.

Joe was right. But as for me I drink coffee but have never smoked. I’d rather fight than switch.

MALCOLM FORSBERG

The Sudan Interior Mission

Wheaton, Ill.

Theology

Biblical Faith and Sex Education

No man today can deny that sex plays an important role in human life. Yet when the subject of sex is under consideration, there are those who ask whether the Christian Church has any right to involve itself with such a topic. There are those who, in all sincerity, insist that the domain of religion in restricted to consideration of the mysteries of God and the universe. But the Christian faith is not a nebulous abstraction, detached from the world in which we are living. If the Christian faith is not relevant to man’s everyday life, it is not relevant to man at all.

The basic Christian doctrine of creation has implications for sex education. The Book of Genesis is a profound theological treatise which declares that everything was made by God and was very good. Man, the crown of creation, is described as being made “in the image of God.” How strikingly beautiful is the description of man’s creation: God took the dust of the earth and breathed into it the breath of life. Man is not, and was never intended to be, merely a biological specimen of the highest order. He is created in God’s image.

In light of this truth the Christian Church must be ready to assert that sex is not just a physiological phenomenon. If man were but an animal with sex as a seasonal instinct, there would be no reason why he should not play the game of musical beds in his neighbors’ boudoirs. But when any man exploits another human being as an object for self-gratification, he is living on the animal level.

Another factor that can be culled from the creation narrative is the thought that man was not made to be alone. Companionship is part of the divine plan for God’s highest creation. So it is that man has his friends, his communities, his nations. But more profound is the suggestion in the Bible that at least part of man’s incompleteness is sexual. Does not the biblical account imply that sex was established by God to be the ultimate in fellowship between people who were not designed to live alone, physically, psychologically, or spiritually? Sex needs to be seen in this light by modern man. Is it not an opportunity, even a responsibility, of the Church to guide him into a proper understanding of the sexual relationship? Sex is not and must not be considered as something unclean.

With this understanding of man, one must then turn to ask what the biblical teaching is about the relationship between these persons created by God. The Christion tradition teaches clearly that marriage is the bond entered into by two people, each responsible to the other and both responsible for the children who may be born as a result of their sexual relationship. Three striking terms are used in the Bible to describe marriage. If these can be made clear by the Christian Church, there will be a decrease in problems within marriage.

The first of these terms is love. As is well known, the Bible uses several words all of which are translated as love. One of these is the Greek word eros, which generally refers to the sexual love of a husband and a wife. The other Greek word is agape, which generally refers to the love of one for the sake of the other, without any concern for self-gratification. This is the word, for example, used by Jesus when he told his followers that they are to love their enemies and their neighbors. The Christian Church needs to make clear that on the basis of biblical teaching it is possible, yea, even necessary, for everyone, whether married or unmarried, to practice agape love. All too often, however, the Church has failed to emphasize that when Paul commanded husbands to love their wives, he used the same term, agape. He wrote to the Ephesians, “Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her” (5:25, RSV). Husband and wife are to love each other not simply for the gratification each derives from the other but because of the desire to want to offer one’s best to one’s beloved.

The second term used for the marriage relationship is know. This usage is especially familiar to those who study the King James Version of the Bible. When the word knowledge or know is used, it can be taken in two ways. It is possible to gain knowledge about a certain subject—nuclear physics, or the preparation of apple pies—by reading a book. As a result, one might become a better physicist or a better cook. But there is a more profound meaning implied in the biblical term. This is the knowledge by identity, by person-to-person relationship, illustrated in the bodily contact of the sexual act. Matthew’s account of Mary and Joseph illustrates this. When Joseph awoke from his vision, he knew Mary not until she had borne her son.

The Church needs to make clear that nothing is more fallacious than the modern suggestion that the best way to learn about sex is to experiment with various partners. The Church should be quick to declare that promiscuous sex relations are wrong and that those who engage in them know, in fact, nothing of the deep and meaningful experience of sexual love between husband and wife.

The third term applied to marriage is mystery. St. Paul wrote, “… a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one. This is a great mystery …” (Eph. 5:31, 32). The Christian Church needs to declare unashamedly that there is an enchanting secret reserved for married life, disclosed only in that moment of ecstasy when for the first time a man and a woman are made aware of their mutual dependence. In this physical union the mystery of man is revealed. This revelation must not be debased by illicit relations entered into apart from marriage.

These words of the Apostle strikingly suggest an underlying spiritual union of the husband and the wife that is symbolized by the physical union. If two have become truly one, this union is essentially beyond dissolution apart from the death of one of the partners. Is there, then, any place for divorce in a Christian marriage?

In this day characterized by many unhappy marriages, promiscuity, adultery, and divorce, the Christian Church has a real opportunity to utilize its scriptural basis in its teachings about a most vital part of human life in light of the will of God for men.

E. Herbert Nygren is chairman of the Department of Religion and Philosophy at Emory and Henry College, Emory, Virginia. He holds the A.B. degree from Taylor University, the S.T.B. degree from Biblical Seminary, and the A.M. and Ph.D. degrees from New York University.

Suffering

If flowers reasoned, would they understand

Why suddenly the gardener’s lzand

Uproots,

Selects,

Transplants

To give their roots moye room, their leaves more air–

Would flowers misconstrue this care

As wrath,

Contempt,

Disdain?

Or be content to let their beauty show

His wisdom … or demand to know

His plan

Intent

Design?

JANE W. LAUBER

The Church and Social Welfare

My name’s Rocky,” the good-looking young man began, and with only a little encouragement he went on to tell his story to the chaplain of the church social agency. He was broke. He had recently lost a job because his weak leg and back, injured in the Korean War, rendered him unable to work eight hours a day. He was behind in his room rent. His mother would not help any more. He had not seen his wife in several months. Drinking had been a problem but was not responsible this time. “I’m at the end of my rope,” he concluded. “I didn’t know where to turn, and then somebody told me of you.” The chaplain waited, then asked, “Rocky, what do you think I can do for you?” The answer came slowly but with some assurance: “I think what I need most is just somebody to be a friend.”

The answer surprised the chaplain. These men usually ask for money, for a job, for carfare or a meal ticket, or sometimes, quite frankly, for the price of a drink. They move from one crisis to another, seeking money to keep going nowhere. They seldom recognize their need as moral, spiritual, or social. Rocky’s diagnosis was different: “I think what I need most is just somebody to be a friend.”

All too often social agencies and workers make the same mistakes in diagnosis as their clients. This may result in part from the obviousness of material need. Physical hunger is easier to diagnose than moral weakness. Lack of money is easier to discern than spiritual poverty. Errors may also come from the greater ease in satisfying material as compared to spiritual needs. We follow the line of least resistance. It is much simpler to give a man like Rocky a meal ticket and a week’s room rent than to try to satisfy his deep longing for “just somebody to be a friend.” But when we choose to satisfy the immediate and obvious need, we are not moving toward a solution of the real problem. We are “passing the buck” to someone else—and there is much “buck-passing” in the social welfare world of our time.

Are not hospitals, prisons, and homes for the aged and chronically ill obligated to treat more than outward symptoms? Ought not social agencies of all kinds to be concerned with more than the material needs of clients? Should not all institutions and agencies be aware, at least, of the whole person and all his needs as they serve those who come to them for help? And, in the end, should we not have a greater concern for the moral and spiritual than for the material and physical welfare of our people?

The Lure Of Circumstances

I am sometimes disturbed by the idealistic use of such a slogan as “War on Poverty.” For one thing, it is reminiscent of slogans of another political party—“A chicken in every pot” and “Two cars in every garage”—used boastfully before the Great Depression of the 1930s. Such slogans were based on social diagnoses just as superficial as mistaken individual diagnoses. In social work, too, we are easily beguiled by the latest hope or plan or technique for improving the material welfare of people. Ten years ago we hoped to achieve Utopia through better housing; today we discover that our glittering new housing projects are beset by the same social ills as were the slums before them. Here also we succumb to the temptation to take the easiest way out. People are not changed by changing their physical circumstances. And it is people, not circumstances, that should concern us most. It is Rocky and his need for “a friend,” not his poverty and hunger, that deserve our most careful attention.

Elimination of poverty is no more an adequate goal for society than is material comfort a satisfying ambition for a man. Such a goal “would be sufficient,” as Albert Einstein once said, “only for a herd of cattle.” America has made more material progress than any other nation in history. President Johnson tells us we have reached a peak of prosperity unmatched in our past, and that this nation is producing goods and services at the fabulous rate of $600 billion a year, $100 billion higher than the rate only three years ago. Our capacity to harness and control nature has never before been achieved. But are we better off than others were? Are we even as well off as our Pilgrim ancestors who faced a threatening and stubborn wilderness, who gained a bare subsistence from the rocky soil of New England, and who gave thanks to Almighty God for their mere survival after a severe winter?

There is considerable evidence that strength of character morally and spiritually is as often found among the poor as among the rich; that it can, in fact, grow under either condition. The great leaders of America have come from humble as well, as from privileged homes. Indeed, he whom we recognize as our greatest president came from the humblest of beginnings. Our Lord himself was born into the simplest of homes, as were most of his disciples and many of the prophets of Israel. The nation Israel, to which we owe so great a portion of our spiritual heritage, was a small, weak, and relatively poor people.

Nor can we Christians forget that the One we call “Lord” had some convictions that did not suggest a war on poverty. “Blessed are you poor,” he said, “for yours is the kingdom of God” (Luke 6:20b, RSV).

It is not my intention to glorify poverty. Prolonged and painful deprivation is hardly conducive to a good life. But surely those who are called to minister to people in trouble should be reminded occasionally of the venerable truth first recorded in the Book of Deuteronomy (8:3) and later made a foundation stone of Jesus’ ministry: “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God” (Matt. 4:4). All of us, troubled or not, have a deep need for someone “just to be a friend.”

If this is true for secular agencies, how much more is it true for religious ones? Our great purpose is to lead men and women to the Great Friend, the Good Shepherd, the God who is righteousness and love, judgment and mercy, demand and support, Guide, Companion, and Saviour. Someone recently expressed this relation of man to God in psychiatric terms when he spoke of God as “the companioning Super-ego.” The phrase speaks of God in two principal aspects of his relation to us: friendliness and moral expectation. This God is revealed to us in his Son, Jesus Christ.

Preacher In The Red

OR, SO HE THOUGHT

The local funeral director is very systematic in providing a car to bring ministers to the funeral parlors, and on the morning of the funeral he calls to see whether the minister desires this service or is driving his own car.

The funeral director also informs the police of the city and adjacent suburbs of the time that a funeral procession will be passing through so that a police escort can be provided.

The office memo was not really as ominous as it sounded: “Rev. Hostetter coming by himself. All police have been notified.”—The Rev. B. DAVID HOSTETTER, minister, Church of Saint John and Saint Stephen, Saint John, New Brunswick.

He Came Preaching

The centrality of Christ is the conviction most surely held by all Christians. To proclaim Christ to the world—and to bring the world to him—is the chief business of the Church, whether it confronts the world as a parish, a diocese, or a social agency. And this tire wise founders of the New York Protestant Episcopal City Mission Society (now the Episcopal Mission Society in the Diocese of New York) saw clearly. Their chief purpose was not to feed, clothe, or house the poor, but to preach to them the Gospel. They stated this intention clearly, not only in the charter they sought and were given by an act of the State Legislature in 1833, but in the motto they chose: “To the poor the Gospel is preached!” In this they were following their Lord. The Evangelist Mark tells us that “Jesus came … preaching the gospel of God” (Mark 1:14).

There is an event in the life of Jesus that speaks eloquently of the mission of the Church. Following a triumphant day of successful healing, Jesus spent the night, not in contented sleep, but in prayer in “a lonely place.” When his disciples found him the next morning, they were eager to return to the exciting ministry of miracles. “Everyone is searching for you,” they said. To which he replied, “Let us go on to the next towns, that I may preach there also; for that is why I came out” (Mark 1:35–38).

The Gospel that the Church preaches is Jesus Christ. “The Church’s one foundation is Jesus Christ her Lord”—we sing it often enough; we had better mean it. There are too many in the Church who flit from one new secular fad to another. One year it is labor legislation, the next better housing. Then they jump on the bandwagon of urban planning. And now it seems to be community organization. What will it be in 1965? No doubt each of these movements has something to say to the Church; but Christians have a prior and a higher commitment. Let not the Church relinquish for a mess of secular pottage the birthright given by her Lord and Master: “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to the whole creation” (Mark 16:15).

In a recent article the Rev. John Heuss, rector of Trinity Church in New York, put it well. Speaking of the millions of people in the slums and urban-renewal projects of America’s cities, he said:

They need Christ and His Church. They need Christian teaching and Christian love. They need understanding and acceptance. They need the sacraments and they need counselling. They need dedicated [clergy] … and trained lay workers. And they need them in a flood of people dedicated to Christ and His Church working together, not in lonely isolation but in team ministries.

At St. Barnabas House in New York City, the command of the Lord to bring the Gospel to the needy is being fulfilled. Originally a ministry to both women and children, this work is now almost exclusively with children. Here are met inner, spiritual needs of the 200 children who call it home for at least a portion of the year. Here are children, often physically undernourished and ill-cared-for, always spiritually bruised. Though sometimes their stay is brief, the endeavor is to make it a time of healing. For those who stay longer, sometimes two years or even more, there is the special privilege and responsibility of bringing them an experience of loving care and wise professional guidance.

I think of these children gathered in the chapel on Christmas morning—young, eager, responsive. They so need the assurance that God is with them and that he so loved us that he sent his only Son Immanuel to save us, to teach us how to live, and to show us how much he loves us. I see them later in the service as they come quietly and confidently to the altar. And then I see a winsome young man who 2,000 years ago “took a child, and put him in the midst of them; and taking him in in his arms … said to them, ‘Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me; and whoever receives me, receives not me but him who sent me.”

On returning from a tour of Europe immediately following World War II, Eddie Cantor told how in Paris he visited a home in the suburbs. “It was once,” he said, “a Rothschild home, and now it’s a place for D.P. children waiting for shipment. I brought along chocolates and gave them to the children. Then I came to a little, tired, pathetic blond girl whose face looked like the face of a hundred years. I asked her, ‘And what can I do for you?’ She said, ‘Love me!’ ” How like Rocky’s answer to the chaplain’s question: “I think what I need most is just somebody to be a friend.”

So often our most effective proclamation of the Gospel is like Jesus’ act of taking a little child in his arms. Our ministry to the bruised spirits of boys and girls, men and women, is essentially a communication to them that they are loved—loved by us, yes; but more important, loved by God in Jesus Christ. The Church and her social agencies are called to show forth to the world, by words and deeds, that the God who was in Christ is the God who is merciful, just, and loving. And in a time when the state is increasingly taking over the responsibility of providing for the physical needs of its deprived citizens, the Church and its agencies are more-free than ever before to pursue this, its major mission. Such a ministry to the souls of men is ultimately the only solution to our vast problems of poverty, racial turmoil, crime and delinquency, alcohol and narcotics addiction, and divorce and family breakdown.

Ralph Bonacker is director of the Episcopal Mission Society in the Diocese of New York. He is a graduate of Park College (A.B.) and Yale Divinity School (B.D.). He has served as rector of the Church of St. John the Evangelist (San Francisco) and as director of the Episcopal Community Service of San Diego, California.

Church and State behind the Iron Curtain

According to reports from behind the Iron Curtain, the church in the lands of socialism is completely separated from the state. But this is far from true. In these lands the union of state and church exists in a reversed form. In the classical union, as practiced during the past centuries chiefly by Roman Catholicism, the church gained a controlling grip on the state and its resources and used them for her benefit. In Communist countries the state holds the churches under its firm rule, using church organizations, influence, and international connections for the advancement of socialism. But the union exists.

Such a union is a demonstrable fact. The Communists originally set out to destroy the churches together with the bourgeois system. As is well known, they failed in their effort to annihilate religion as much as they fell short in their plan to create a classless society or to solve economic problems by the application of strict Marxist principles (indeed, whenever they made a few steps of economic progress they had to cheat Marxism).

The new attitude of the Communist party toward the churches is a temporary change of tactics compelled by the unalterable fact of religion. Religion exists in Communist lands in spite of adverse indoctrination, suppression, and outright persecution. If there must be religion at least for a while in Soviet lands, and if religion appeals to a great mass of people both at home and in the free world, it is reasoned, Communists might just as well use it to serve the socialist cause.

Churches can well be used behind the Iron Curtain to mollify the feeling among the farmers against the detested collectivization. The church is a very suitable instrument in the Communist peace movement. This movement is an insidious method of planting seeds of distrust against the “war-mongering West” while at the same time creating an admirable image of the “peaceful Soviet.” Through the controlled churches, the atheistic regime can point to the biblical injunction for Christians to support the government as a solemn duty.

The Club And The Carrot

A certain degree of freedom of the churches and some well-publicized government assistance to denominations will mitigate, the Communists expect, the effect of the previous harsh treatment of Christians in Communist lands. Many millions of Muslims, Buddhists, and Hindus reject Communism in spite of its glittering material promises just because they are afraid of a system that suppresses religion. Communists thus are trying to change this unfavorable image of their system by relaxing their severe methods and by granting the churches token assistance.

Today the governments behind the Iron Curtain, notably those in the satellite nations, actually extend financial help to rebuild a church here, install a new organ there, or pay part of the salaries and pensions for active and retired ministers. This financial aid is just a small portion of the modest salaries given to ministers, but the governments are taking the full equivalent of the money they grant. The subsidy justifies government control over the churches and presents opportunities for the most desirable type of propaganda. The support given pensioned ministers may also be used effectively in getting rid of a few unbending churchmen, forcing them out of active service before their retirement age. The Communists hope that with the decreasing number of ministerial candidates, it is a matter of time until the ministry will be too weak and too small to save the churches from mortal atrophy. This expectation is worth all the financial assistance they give to religious bodies. Moreover, the very valuable humanitarian aspect of such aid can well be used to create a favorable impression of the Communist governments among people of the free world.

Marxists have not publicly denied their original irreconcilable antagonism against religious beliefs. Whatever they now do in supporting churches and tolerating religious practices is a well-calculated move to serve the cause of Communism.

Channels Of Control

The firm connection between state and church behind the Iron Curtain is demonstrated by the government’s strict control of the churches. The supreme administration of all religious bodies is in the hands of irreligious Communist government officials. These officials do not trouble themselves with theological issues, liturgical questions, or denominational controversies. Fields of ecclesiastical or doctrinal friction do not interest any government agency. The theological and biblical arguments on which church leaders spend many written and spoken words are for Communists unintelligible babblings. These disputations are segments of the liberty Communists allow the churches to enjoy. The government officials control the churchmen through whom they execute their will.

Churches are not free to elect pastors, nor are conventions free to choose secretaries or presidents. Denominations cannot freely select teachers for theological schools. The actual secret appointing power is in the hands of the proper officials in the “Office of Church Affairs.”

Although churches and conventions still go through the routine of “elections,” the candidates are cleared first by the “Office,” and whom the powers want to see elected is well known. Churches that took a chance in calling pastors whom they liked soon learned that the Office of Church Affairs would not go along with their choices. The churches had to drop the matter, of course, and had to find out whose election would please the government and vote accordingly.

Although travel to and from the Iron Curtain countries is no longer prohibited, it is still restricted. No church officials can invite any foreign clergyman to visit as a fraternal representative without first obtaining permission from the proper government functionary. No churchman can receive a passport to travel to the West without a statement of approval from the Office of Church Affairs, in which it is declared that the planned travel of the churchman is in line with the country’s interests—i.e., the Communist system. The governments behind the Iron Curtain jealously protect the appearance of the “freedom” granted the churches. The “clearing,” “approval,” or “disapproval” is done discreetly.

Members of churches and convention delegates learn by word of mouth in what persons the government’s confidence rests. To elect anyone else would be wasted time and would be regarded as a challenge to government authority. And if, by chance, a favorite who is disapproved by the government “Office” emerges as a serious candidate, he receives friendly “counsel” to decline the honor of being elected.

The show of church freedom is one that every official in church circles respects. No one in a trusted position would dare divulge that a suggestion or a rejection on which committees, churches, or conventions must act comes from the government. All voting activities must appear to be done as a free expression of the will of the church organization concerned.

The government has its hand in the removal of ministers and church officials. A minister may carefully adhere to the directives set by the central office of his denomination, which in fact is a mouthpiece of the government, yet make himself obnoxious in the eyes of the Office of Church Affairs. He may be too successful or too popular. His church may grow faster and have a greater outreach than the Communists like to see. Action will then be taken: a shift of ministers will be suggested, and the one in disfavor will be relegated to an insignificant or difficult post. Thus his efficiency and popularity will be rendered harmless.

God’S Sword Thrusts

By the time pearl harbor struck I had returned to America, but my husband was facing Japanese soldiers in China. He was forced to live in semi-house-arrest away from his missionary work until March, 1943, when he and 1,700 other “enemy aliens” were moved to an internment camp in Shantung Province. Even the Red Cross was unable to establish communications with war prisoners in Japanese camps; my pile of letters at Red Cross headquarters was returned to me. Would the camp life mean harsh treatment—or starvation? What fears and forebodings preyed on my mind!

Early one morning I could stand it no longer. While the baby my husband had not yet seen still slept, I slipped into another room and sat before the Lord. Too discouraged even to kneel, I sat with bowed head and honestly told God everything. “Father,” I said, “I have reached the end of my faith. I cannot go on speaking in churches and giving a victorious testimony.”

Quick as a flash came the answer, “I have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not” (Luke 22:31a). My heart warmed. “If Jesus prays for me I cannot fail. His faith is mine.” Fortitude and restfulness were given from that very hour. Nine months later the “Gripsholm” mercy ship brought my husband home.—LAURA C. TRACHSEL, Taiwan, Free China.

Establishing new missions and churches is not forbidden. But since there are hardly enough ministers to serve the existing churches, it is practically impossible to begin new ones. The number of ministers is efficiently controlled by the Communist system. Ministers are required to have a state license that must be revalidated annually. The minister who cannot obtain or renew a license is not permitted to preach anywhere within the jurisdiction of the Communist government.

In Communist jargon, that something is not forbidden does not necessarily mean it is permitted. The predicament of the first and only Baptist church in Moscow clearly demonstrates what can be done by invisible government control. There is a definite need for at least two or three more Baptist meeting places in the Russian capital. The Baptist leaders feel it, and the Soviet government is aware of it—but new churches are not being established. No Baptist minister could start a new church. This would not be openly prohibited, nor would anyone be given a written denial of permission for opening a new meeting hall. Whoever insisted on founding a new Baptist church in Moscow, however, would find himself “promoted” to a faraway, secluded section of the country and would eventually lose his ministerial license.

One must not forget that in Communist countries the Office of Church Affairs is not maintained for the benefit of the churches and for the peaceful advancement of the religious work. On the contrary, these offices are established for one purpose only: to check the progress of religion and slowly, subtly stifle the life of the organized churches. As a byproduct of this union of state and church, the Communists are enjoying favorable publicity. This publicity is, however, given unwillingly by the churches.

Communists are freely using corruption in their effort to hasten the euthanasia of religion. There are in every religious organization a few men who desire to gain positions such as chairmanships, presidencies, and bishoprics, and thus wield power emanating from the government. Obviously the Communist authorities do not require moral and spiritual qualifications in those whom they support and through whom they control the churches. The government seeks men who will serve the system, and the only “ethical” requirement is unswerving loyalty to the government. The road to power and leadership leads, not through the churches, but through the Office of Church Affairs.

Denunciation, whispering defamations, secret information may unseat any denominational official, and the one who has proved faithful and vigilant in confidential reporting will be put into the saddle. Such men serve Communist purposes well. They help discredit the churches and undermine the spiritual standard of leadership of the religious organizations. And when they are in leading positions, these men will effectively check for the government the intimidated ministry.

The Communist Office of Church Affairs can point with satisfaction to one significant success of its effort of corruption: the fellowship of the Christian ministry has been poisoned. Fear and mistrust are part of the natural atmosphere in Communist lands. There are secret informers in every religious organization. Ministers feel isolated and in many cases lonesome. The divide et impera diabolical principle is applied well, with sad results for Christian leadership.

The Power Of True Faith

There are at least two encouraging aspects of the religious situation behind the Iron Curtain. First, it appears that the Communists, confronted by the realities of living religion, will eventually be forced to reinterpret Marxist theories about religion. They will have to accept a “peaceful coexistence” with the churches. Who will last longer? Who will bury whom? We cannot help believing that year by year it will continue to be more difficult to uphold Marxist atheism before the deep spiritual conviction of a large segment of the people behind the Iron Curtain.

In the second place, the great majority of Christians are aware of Communist machinations. They know of the power struggle among ambitious church leaders, the favorites of the governments. They make it quite clear in their confidential utterances that the government appointees are not the true leaders of the churches and that their spiritual example should not be followed. There is a prevalent hope that these testing years will come to an end and that a church victorious will emerge. Until then, Christians patiently accept the realities of the time and comfort themselves by whispering, “There had to be a Judas even among the disciples of Jesus.” And even the world recognizes the falsity of those high-sounding statements about freedom of religion and separation of state and church behind the Iron Curtain.

There is more than awareness among the Christians in Communist lands. There is genuine faith. When the Marxists failed to capture the mind of the masses, they missed the mark in their avowed aim to control the hearts of the people and to eradicate faith, which is the gift of God.

Bela Udvarnoki is professor emeritus of social science at Chowan College, Murfreesboro, North Carolina. From 1939 to 1947 he was president of the Baptist Theological Seminary in Budapest, Hungary, a post in which he succeeded his father. He holds the Ph.D. degree from Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville.

The Prodigal

He came back from the gray dust

of alien streets and the smell

of the swinecote, back to love.

Two things he would never understand:

why he had fled love for the dark streets

and the black wine, or why,

when he quit the swinecote, love

ran to meet him on the road.

But he did not need to understand.

It was enough that music from the house

washed over him, and that he was kissed,

and that the words fell on his spirit:

This, my son, was dead, and is alive again:

he was lost, and is found.

LON WOODRUM

Theology

The Faith of Our Fathers

A few days ago I read a report from one of our eastern offices about a currently operating Communist party front—about how it is collecting money, distributing literature, subtly undermining our democratic way of life. As I saw the machinations of the party, enticing unsuspecting Americans into its devious network, I could not help thinking about a statement I had recently read: “In modern times the death of democracy is, more often than not, camouflaged suicide.”

This is our danger today. Communism has been able to make inroads into our country not so much because of its inherent strength but because of our weaknesses; not because of its superiority but because of our failure to understand its chicanery and deceit. The penalty for such a failure can be nothing but national suicide, all the more tragic since it is a camouflaged suicide.

Let us make no mistake. Communism is an aggressive, dynamic, assertive ideology, claiming to offer, in the words of one of its textbooks, “an integral world outlook, the most progressive outlook of our time” (Fundamentals of Marxism-Leninism, a Communist textbook published in Moscow). No man can deny the demonic power of Communism—its lethal wizardry in inciting men to fanaticism, dedication, and allegiance to an ideal, false as that ideal may be; its admitted ability to break down the sinews of civilized nations; its monstrous intention to rewrite all of history in its own self-proclaimed dialectical patterns. Never must we forget that in barely a generation this false religion has swept through one-third of the world’s population and one-quarter of the earth’s land surface.

Yet despite this tremendous energy and this monstrous capacity to enslave men’s minds, hearts, and souls, Communism is inherently weak when compared with the explosive power of man’s urge to be free. This basic fact Americans so often overlook—that it is in the faith of our fathers, a trust in God, and a belief in the dignity of man that the real revolutionary power of history arises; and that it is this power that over the centuries has ripped apart tyrannies, overthrown dictators, and humbled the idolatrous.

By neglecting our spiritual heritage, by succumbing to apathy and unconcern, we are endowing the enemy with a strength he does not possess and could never hope to secure from his own inner being. As I read the FBI report on my desk and saw how some Americans were donating money to the Communist front, supporting its program and spreading its propaganda without taking the time to examine what the group’s true objectives were, I thought again: “Look how we are opening the gates of our nation to the Marxist wolf, giving him an entree he could never have achieved on his own merits.”

Truly one of the striking phenomena of our age is the failure of so many men of good will to trust the historic values of our Western civilization and to believe that freedom is the best way to solve the problems of man and bring in a better world for all. Far too many Americans today are uninformed about the history of their country and the principles of free government. They are victimized by the lure of false panaceas. The glib talk of a Communist front is mistaken as an authentic effort to improve society. Some, caught in the deadly snare of Communist influence, become party members.

A Course In Disillusionment

The real tragedy of Communism can be seen in the tortured testimony of men and women who have passed through the Iron Curtain and have eaten of the Communist manna, have sampled the wares of the Marxist table, have lived in the Communist household, and have then returned to their heritage of freedom. These men and women—and there are thousands of them in the United States—testify to the eerie darkness of the Communist world, the stultifying of independent thought, the shackling of human love, the inculcation of a materialistic discipline that chains reason and dries up the true emotions of the heart.

“Basically, my break with Communism can’t be adduced to one factor alone,” wrote one ex-Communist. “If it is desired to put the answer in a nutshell, it is the contradiction between the shining beauty of the theory of Communism and what it is in practice as a bestial, corrupt, retrogressive way of life, as a system of government of false morality, perverted ethics, wasteful economy, and politics of horror and torture for the working people.”

I am convinced that deep down in the hearts of many in the Communist movement, even in the hard-core, fanatical members, there still flickers a flame of freedom even though they themselves do not realize it. This flame is the eternal striving of man to be free, to have dignity and respect, to be regarded as a human being. I further believe that despite Communist discipline and indoctrination, this flame can never be permanently extinguished. Why? Because of the image of God in every human being.

The current intensive campaign inside the Soviet Union to throttle the free expression of writers is indicative of the scope of this problem even in the nation where Communism has already been in state power for more than a generation. “An impassioned struggle for the triumph of the most humane and just society on earth—Communism—is the principal mission of literature and art in our day,” proclaimed L. F. Ilyichev, secretary of the Party’s Central Committee. “The truly Soviet artist or writer,” he said, “… is asked to have keen eyes for and to help consolidate by all available means … those new, growing, Communist features that express the very essence of our life as it develops.” In other words, the writer in Communism is the handmaiden of the state, its tool in propagandizing the masses, its weapon in the struggle to create a Communist culture.

The Need To Dream

But this party intention runs counter to the inner flame of freedom. “Some great thinker once said that man is an animal with a capacity for dreaming,” wrote Yevgeny Yevtushenko, one of the Soviet poets severely censured by Mr. Khrushchev. Then Yevtushenko adds these significant words: “There are men whose lives confirm only the first part of this proposition. Yet if we look into their hearts we find that, although they have no lofty dreams, there are dreams nevertheless, for man has a need to dream.”

“For man has a need to dream.” This is the free human spirit at work. George Washington struggling at Valley Forge, Thomas Jefferson penning the Declaration of Independence, the colonial patriots wrestling with a new Constitution—all dreamed, dreamed of a new nation that would be free, strong, and obedient to God. In their dreams they found strength and the faith that enabled them to endure suffering, hardship, and discouragement.

This is the spiritual nature of man. It is that aspect of his existence which causes him to rebel eternally against tyranny, to fight desperately any effort to shackle his heart, mind, and soul. This is the need of man, as a child of God, to ask questions about life, to think for himself, to mold his own inner destiny. This is the demand for man to be himself, thereby giving Communism an obstacle that it will never be able to conquer.

Here, in a belief in the power of freedom, lies the strength of America. This is the faith of our fathers, a faith that liberates the energy, vision, and dreams of our people. We need to rededicate ourselves to this faith, to know more about our history and the spirit of freedom.

Freedom as a way of life is not antiquated. In fact, it has as never before meaning and significance for our lives. As Americans, we should learn to trust God, to know his teachings, and to live in his ways. Before the eternal majesty of God, the Utopian promises of Communism pale as the murky shadows before the blazing sun.

Let us not allow Communism to gain a strength it does not deserve. Let us place our hope in the only faith that can move men to the most noble purposes in life, the faith of our fathers.

J. Edgar Hoover has been director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation since 1924. He holds the LL.B. and LL.M. degrees from George Washington University and many honorary degrees from other universities.

Theology

The Theological Situation in Europe: Decline of the Bultmann Era?

First in a Series (Part I)

After ruling German theology for more than a decade, Rudolf Bultmann is no longer its king. Former students have usurped his throne and are scrambling for the spoils of conquest. While their loose-knit coalition of post-Bultmannian views tends as a whole to fragment Bultmann’s presuppositions, their own impact is blunted by internal disagreement.

In other quarters anti-Bultmannian forces are challenging existentialist theology with increasing vigor. European critics heading this anti-Bultmannian offensive include the traditionally conservative school, the Heilsgeschichte (salvation-history) movement, and the emerging “Pannenberg school.”

Third Time In A Century

For the third time in our century Continental Protestantism has tumbled into a morass of theological confusion and transition. Apprehension shadows almost all phases of current theological inquiry and reflection; what the final direction of the dogmatic drift will be is now wholly uncertain.

Contemporary European theology underwent its first major reconstruction when Karl Barth projected his crisis-theology in vigorous protest against classic post-Hegelian modernism. As a result, German theologians by the early 1930s were conceding the death of rationalistic liberalism, which Barth had repudiated as “heresy,” and admitting the triumph of dialectical theology over immanental philosophy. Barth’s Kirchenkampf role against Nazi Socialism, centering in his appeal to a transcendent “Word of God,” removed any doubt that theological leadership had fallen his way and gave him almost the status of a Protestant church father. Barthian theology accordingly remained the dominant force in European dogmatics until mid-century.

It was the appearance of the theological essays titled Kerygma und Mythos (Hans-Werner Bartsch, editor) that soon eroded the vast influence of Barth’s dogmatics. Published in 1948, this symposium included and made prominent Bultmann’s essay on “New Testament and Mythology,” a work which had but little recognition at its first appearance in 1941.

Barth’s early agreement with existentialism had been evident both from his broad dialectical refusal to ground Christian faith in the realm of objective history and knowledge and in the explicitly existential emphasis of his Römerbrief (1919). Bultmann conformed this existentialist commitment to several ruling ideas, namely, that Formgeschichte (the form-critical evaluation of New Testament sources) establishes what the primitive Church (rather than what Jesus) taught; that Christian faith requires no historical foundation beyond the mere “thatness” of Jesus’ existence; and finally that Christian relevance and acceptance in the modern scientific age require reinterpretation of the New Testament in terms of an existential non-miraculous pre-philosophy. In view of this “creeping naturalism,” Barth and Bultmann parted company between 1927 and 1929. In the 1932 revision of his Kirchliche Dogmatik Barth openly repudiated existential philosophy, and he has continually added “objectifying” elements in order to protect his dialectical theology against existentialist takeover.

At the same time, by dismissing modern scientific theory as irrelevant to Christian faith and relegating historical criticism to a role of secondary importance, Barth neglected pressing controversies in related fields of exegesis. Bultmann, on the other hand, assigned larger scope both to a naturalistic philosophy of science and to negative historical criticism, and demanded that the New Testament be “demythologized” of its miraculous content. The theology of divine confrontation, he contended, can and must dispense with such proofs and props. The young intellectuals became increasingly persuaded that Barth’s “theology of the Word of God” applied the basic dialectical principle less consistently than did Bultmann’s reconstruction. In fact, so extensive was their swing to Bultmannism on the seminary campuses that both Barth and Brunner had to concede that “Bultmann is king” (cf. “Has Winter Come Again? Theological Transition in Europe,” in CHRISTIANITY TODAY, NOV. 21, 1960, pp. 3 ff.).

The Stars Are Falling

The wide split in the Bultmann camp has now created a new strategic situation. The differences among the disciples of Bultmann signal an impending breakup of the total Bultmannian empire. Self-professed “followers” of Bultmann now range from those who regard interpersonal relations alone as significant for encountering God, to those who emphasize a necessary connection between the historical Jesus and the content of Christian faith. In his retirement, Bultmann has become but a symbolic ruler of the theological kingdom. Meantime an oligarchy of post-Bultmannians—many of them former students under Bultmann—has seized the intellectual initiative and is now best known for pointed criticisms of Bultmann and for sharp disagreements within its own ranks.

Says Ernst Fuchs of Marburg, “The vitality is now with Bultmann’s disciples who are in revolt, not with Bultmann and those who remain loyal.”

And Karl Barth of Basel, commenting on Time magazine’s recent statement that Bultmann still dominates European theology “the way the Russians dominate chess,” remarks, “That’s saying too much.” The Bultmann forces, he indicates, “are divided among themselves.” “And,” he adds, “Bultmann has become more or less silent.” As Emil Brunner of Zürich puts it, “Bultmann’s shaky throne gets more shaky day by day.”

Aware that a time of theological transition is again in process in which new views are constantly coming to the fore, scholars contemplate the future of Continental theology with mounting uncertainty.

“One of the tragedies of the theological scene today,” remarks the Erlangen New Testament scholar Gerhard Friedrich, “is that the theologians outlive the influence of their own theologies. Barth’s star has been sinking, and now Bultmann’s is sinking too.”

“The realm of systematic theology today suffers from a confusion of the frontiers of thought,” adds the Hamburg theologian Wenzel Lohff, because there is not yet “a new binding concept.”

And Brunner, whose encounter-theology held the line for a season between Barth and Bultmann, himself contends that “no one theology now on the scene can become the theology of the future. The Germans are monists—they want one leader at a time.”

Brunner concedes that for the moment Bultmann and Barth remain the strongest contenders for this leadership. And Heidelberg theologian Edmund Schlink believes that “in the field of systematic theology Barth still has more control, while in the New Testament field, it is Bultmann who holds more influence, although his positions are increasingly disputed and disowned.” “Barth has the vitality and he has disciples,” notes Fuchs, “whereas Bultmann has the a prioris and his disciples have the vitality—that is what distinguishes Bultmann’s situation from Barth’s. The real trouble is between Bultmann and his disciples.”

Commenting not simply on the vitality of the post-Bultmannians but also on the rivalry between them at the very moment when basic Bultmannian positions are under heavy fire, Schlink notes further: “The counter-criticism is growing, and the waves of demythology are diminishing.”

The Irreconcilable Divisions

In the eyes of Bultmann’s successor in New Testament at Marburg (since 1952), the Bultmannian school has “broken to pieces” during the past ten years. Long a foe of Bultmannism in its German seat of origin, Werner Georg Kümmel is currently president of Europe’s Society of New Testament Studies. As he sees the situation, Bultmannism is now irreconcilably split, and New Testament scholarship is divided into at least four competing camps:

1. The conservatives, including Otto Michel of Tübingen, Joachim Jeremias of Göttingen, Gustav Stählin of Mainz, Karl Heinrich Rengstorf of Münster, Leonhard Goppelt of Hamburg, and Gerhard Friedrich of Erlangen.

2. The Heilsgeschichte scholars, a mediating group to which Oscar Cullmann of Basel provides a kind of transition from the first category. Kümmel lists himself here, as well as Eduard Schweizer of Zürich, Eduard Lohse of Berlin, and Ulrich Wilckens of Berlin.

3. The post-Bultmannian scholars.

4. The so-called Pannenberg scholars. Led by Mainz theologian Wolfhardt Pannenberg, this school stresses the reality of objective divine revelation in history and the universal validity of the Christian truth-claim.

5. Independents whose viewpoints defy group identification. Helmut Thielicke of Hamburg, for example, combines liberal, dialectical, and conservative theological ingredients. Cullmann may be listed here also; he so modifies traditional views that he prefers not to be identified as a conservative. On the other hand, many Heilsgeschichte scholars brush aside his positions as too conservative. Ethelbert Stauffer of Erlangen is widely associated with a revival of radical liberalism in conservative garb.

Revolt In The Camp

Kümmel traces the death-knell of the Bultmannian school to Ernst Käsemann’s “revolutionary” paper of 1954 on the historical Jesus (“Das Problem des historischen Jesus”): “We cannot deny the identity of the exalted Lord with the incarnate Lord without falling into Docetism, and depriving ourselves of the possibility of distinguishing the Church’s Easter faith from a myth.” Since that time interest in the “happenedness” of something more than the mere existence of Jesus has advanced until most of Bultmann’s disciples have come to insist for both theological and historical reasons that some knowledge of the historical Jesus is indispensable. As a result, dialogue was inevitable with such New Testament scholars as Cullmann, Michel, Jeremias, Kümmel, Goppelt, and Stauffer, who had never been uninterested in the historical Jesus and who opposed Bultmann’s theology for a variety of other reasons as well.

Not only Bultmann but also Barth deplored this revival of interest in the historical Jesus. In his report, “How My Mind Has Changed,” Barth voiced strong suspicions of “the authoritative New Testament men, who to my amazement have armed themselves with swords and staves, and once again undertaken the search for the ‘historical Jesus’—a search in which I now as before prefer not to participate” (The Christian Century, Jan. 20, 1960, p. 75).

Nonetheless the historical Jesus became an increasing concern of Bultmann’s former students—including Fuchs of Marburg, Ebeling of Zürich, Bornkamm of Heidelberg, if not of almost the entire Bultmannian school. Only a minority resisted this historical interest—former Bultmann students like Hans Conzelmann of Göttingen, Philipp Vielhauer of Bonn, Manfred Mezger of Mainz, and, on the American side, James M. Robinson of Claremont.

Bultmann himself helped to create the popular distinction between “genuine” and “spurious” disciples of Bultmannism by commending the theological consequences of Herbert Braun’s views. Together with Mezger, his faculty colleague, Braun stresses interpersonal relationships alone as decisive for divine revelation. Although both “genuine” and “spurious” groups retain Bultmann’s emphasis that the task of exegesis is existential interpretation, the genuine disciples renounce a basic interest in the historical Jesus, while the spurious promote this interest.

Käsemann of Tübingen is the most disaffected member of the Bultmann school; in fact, some observers put him in a class by himself. He speaks of his former teacher as “a man of the nineteenth century” and tells classes that when the Marburg scholar substitutes existential interpretation for New Testament tradition he is simply “looking at his own navel.” With an eye on Bultmann’s “Eschatology and History,” he charges that Bultmann’s theology is no longer Christian. Käsemann repudiates Bultmann’s anthropological emphasis. He denies also the existential exegesis which Fuchs and Ebeling retain alongside their stress of the importance of the historical Jesus for faith. Although Käsemann sees no sure way to go behind the Gospels to the historical Jesus, he recognizes the difficulty of the form-critical method, namely, that it cannot tell either where Jesus speaks or where the Church speaks. He resumes some of the basic emphases of conservative New Testament scholars—for example, the Jewish rather than Hellenic background of the New Testament (“all Torah must be fulfilled”)—and shows interest in New Testament apocalyptic. For Käsemann what is central for primitive Christian preaching is not the believing subject (as with Bultmann) but the interpretation of the eschatological teaching with its anticipation of final fulfillment: God sent his Son, and this has apocalyptic significance. The Jesusbild of Matthew’s Gospel is eo ipso the historical Jesus. It is equally significant that the problem of Heilsgeschichte—of the meaning of certain acts of God for proclamation—again comes into the foreground. In his deviation from Bultmann’s methodology at the point of emphasis on the New Testament as the proclamation of an apocalyptic happening, Käsemann occupies a position between most of the post-Bultmannian scholars and the non-Bultmannian “history of salvation” scholars. It is this exegetical turn which accounts for the fact that in New Testament discussion today the most lively theological encounter is occurring between the “moderately” critical Heilsgeschichte scholars and the most energetic critics of Bultmann in his own camp.

Except for a very small colony of “genuine” Bultmannians, most of Bultmann’s former students and disciples now modify or reject his emphasis that “the preached Jesus” is the ground of community between God and men. Fuchs and Ebeling seek to correlate the philosophical side of Bultmann’s position with some of Luther’s motifs as a corrective. Their conviction that the basis of community between God and men is the historical Jesus means, further, that the historical Jesus is the One who must be preached. “The historical Jesus—not the preached Jesus—is the one theme of the New Testament,” insists Fuchs. Bultmann’s failure to say this, he adds, is “the cause of the trouble among his disciples, and is a serious error.”

The Mainz Radicals

Eyeing the elements of ambiguity in Bultmann’s presentation, Fuchs observes: “Where Bultmann stands sometimes only God knows and not even Bultmann.” Confusion over Bultmann’s position grew apace when he approved the consequences of the theology of Herbert Braun and Manfred Mezger, the so-called “Mainz radicals,” who stay with “the kerygmatic Christ” and do not revive the quest for the historical Jesus. (See “Das Verhältnis der urchristlichen Christusbotschaft zum historischen Jesus,” a lecture at Heidelberg Academy of Sciences in which Bultmann replied to scholars reviving the quest for the historical Jesus. The English translation appears in The Historical Jesus and the Kerygmatic Christ, Carl L. Braaten and Roy A Harrisville, editors, New York: Abingdon Press, 1964. Note Bultmann’s remark: “It may be that Herbert Braun’s intention to give an existential interpretation has been carried out most consistently,” pp. 35 ff.).

These Mainz theologians (Mezger is a former student of Bultmann; Braun, a friend) consider themselves—rightly or wrongly—the heirs of the dialectical theology, and carry Bultmann’s position to greater extremes than do other Bultmannian disciples. They question the possibility of speaking of God as a being independent and distinguishable from the world and man. From the Incarnation Mezger concludes that God is not an exceptional reality but a totally profane reality, and that all facts and acts of faith must be encountered in our world in personal relationships. Mezger defines God as the Unobjectifiable and Unutilizable who encounters us always and only through our neighbor. Revelation for Mezger is the Word that meets me unconditionally, so that I can only trust or reject. Braun, too, insists that revelation shows itself “only where and when I am struck by it.”

But despite his approving references to the results of Braun’s theology (most recently in “Der Gottesgedanke und der moderne Mensch,” Zeitschrift für Theologie und Kirche, December, 1963, pp. 335–48, reprint of an article which appeared first in the daily newspaper Die Welt under the title “Ist Gott Tod?”) Bultmann considers some formulations of his Mainz disciples as objectionable and dangerous insofar as they leave in doubt the reality of God. Bultmann distinguishes reality and objectivity; he denies that God is knowable objectively, insists that revelation occurs only in decision and that God always confronts us when there is revelation. “If Mezger and Braun depict revelation as occurring in personal relationships and dispense with the reality as well as with the objectivity of God, they are in error,” he says. “I will not dissolve the faith in revelation into subjectivism. The danger of Braun’s formulations is that he seems to do so, although I do not believe he intends this.”

The irony of the situation is that Bultmann’s criticism of the “Mainz radicals” is not dissimilar from Emil Brunner’s criticism of some of Bultmann’s own recent formulations. “The concept of revelation has been a dispensable luxury in Bultmann’s scheme,” Brunner remarks, pointing to Bultmann’s delineation of God as the transcendent in the immanent, the unconditional in the conditional. Brunner continues, “Only the idea of God which seeks and finds the unconditioned in the conditioned, the other-worldly in the this-worldly, the transcendent in the present reality, is acceptable to modern man” (“Der Gottesgedanke und der moderne Mensch,” ibid., pp. 346 ff.). “Bultmann is a modern Origen,” says Brunner, “an allegorist of the Alexandrine school. Bultmann has always been a student of Heidegger, who transforms the New Testament for him. Heidegger is an avowed atheist; he bows to no revelation—understands none, needs none, allows none. He smiles at Bultmann for ‘making theology out of my philosophy.’ ”

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