Presbyterians U.S. Nail the Door Open

Amid rising mountains and falling rains the 104th General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in the United States convened last month in Montreat, North Carolina. While the nation struggled on Capitol Hill with civil rights, 456 commissioners of what is popularly known as the Southern Presbyterian church struggled at the church’s Conference Center in the Blue Ridge Mountains to grant the Negro religious rights within their churches. The mountains were blue, the days gray, the issues critical. Although only one-tenth of 1 per cent of the church’s membership is Negro, many of the assembly’s decisions concerned race, and many others were haunted by a racial specter that played a real but unspoken role in the assembly’s decisions.

In what may prove to be a historic assembly, the commissioners faced the problem of Negro presbyteries “which occupy the same district as that of other presbyteries,” and “instructed” these latter presbyteries “to bring their procedures into line with the constitution of our church, and to take into their membership and under their care all of the ministers and churches … within the district for which they bear particular responsibility.” Each of these presbyteries was also instructed “to present a report of its progress to the General Assembly at its next meeting.” The Rev. J. Reed Miller of Jackson, Mississippi, decried this as “enforced integration” and moved that “instruct” be changed to “request.” The motion was rejected. There were indications that the action to “instruct” will be challenged as being contrary to Presbyterian polity.

The synods of Alabama, Georgia, and Louisiana were also instructed “to take steps to dissolve” the denomination’s three Negro presbyteries. Some commissioners feared that the order to integrate might cause some local churches to leave the denomination.

The assembly adopted the “policy of holding its annual meetings only in churches willing to accept all persons for worship and membership in the congregation … and further, that this policy become effective with respect to the 1967 meeting of the Assembly.” A strong attempt to make this policy apply to the 1965 assembly meeting failed. Had it succeeded, it would have necessitated cancellation of plans to meet in the Second Presbyterian Church of Memphis in 1965.

Later a letter was adopted to request the Memphis church, whose pastor, Dr. Henry Edward Russell, is a brother of Senator Richard B. Russell of Georgia, to bring its practice in line with the denomination’s position. The decision to send the letter was later withdrawn.

The assembly voted to add to its Directory of Worship the statement, “No one shall be excluded from participation in public Worship in the Lord’s House on grounds of race, color or class.” To become part of the denomination’s Book of Church Order, this action must be approved by a majority of the church’s eighty presbyteries.

A pastoral letter to the local session of each congregation was also adopted. It deals with ways of solving racial problems on the local level. One Southern minister told the meeting that if he read the letter to his sessions, some of his elders would ask, “What is wrong—don’t you want to live here any more?” The letter was adopted unanimously.

Dr. Felix B. Gear, professor of theology at the church’s Columbia Seminary at Decatur, Georgia, was chosen as moderator of the assembly. At a press interview, he asserted that the country “needs something in the way of a civil rights bill.” He also declared he had no objection to members of the church engaging in the proper kind of civil rights demonstrations. He added, “I don’t think it’s the business of the church to tell legislators how to secure justice, but it’s our business to say justice should be secured.”

In one resolution the assembly asserted that it “does hereby deplore the unlawful manipulation and use of children of juvenile age by adults in the advancement of local or national programs regardless of the nature or purpose of such programs.”

By an overwhelming vote the commissioners rejected a recommendation of the Standing Committee to participate in the NCC-sponsored Church Assembly for Civil Rights in Washington, D. C.

In his “State of the Church” report Dr. William H. McCorkle, retiring moderator, called the racial problem the “paramount issue of our Church.”

The assembly adopted a record benevolence budget of $9,968,380, an increase of $155,200 over the 1964 figure.

Recommendations were adopted urging that the religious training of children is the “primary responsibility” of church and home and that school authorities should permit students to engage in some form of “voluntary” devotional activity. For the rest, the assembly took the position that the recent Supreme Court decisions on prayer and Bible readings are “theologically sound.”

Plain Words On Civil Rights

The Interreligious Convocation on Civil Rights in Washington, D. C., last month was considered an impressive show of support by the major faiths of the civil rights bill.

Protestants, Catholics, and Jews, whites and Negroes, were on the platform and in the audience at the convocation, held in the gymnasium of Georgetown University. Senator Hubert Humphrey sat almost directly in front of the pulpit in the front row, and four other congressmen were in the audience.

The three main speakers were the Most Rev. Lawrence Shehan, Archbishop of Baltimore; Rabbi Uri Miller, president of the Synagogue Council of America; and Dr. Eugene Carson Blake, chairman of the Commission on Religion and Race of the National Council of Churches.

After the meeting, leaders of the convocation were invited to the White House for a talk with President Johnson.

The audience was attentive throughout, but when Dr. Blake rose to speak with revivalist fervor, it burst into repeated applause.

“The crisis of the nation is no more severe than the crisis in our churches and synagogues,” said Dr. Blake. “How can any of us ministers, priests or rabbis, stand safely eloquent behind our pulpits, reflecting the moral confusions of American culture in our tactful, balanced prose when God is thundering at his people, calling them to repent and be saved? Never in the life of the nation have the churches and synagogues through their best leadership been so fully united intellectually on any moral issue confronting the American people. But such intellectual unity will reveal the weakness and irrelevance of our pulpits, unless from them we speak.…

“Our task as churchmen is not to be expert in legislation or to tell the Congress how to legislate. But it is our task and it is our competence to cut through the fog of immorality that threatens every American home and every church and synagogue, and to say so that everyone can hear and heed—‘Thus saith the Lord’—‘Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever flowing stream.’ ”

Archbishop Shehan said in his address, “Through its Congress, this nation is laboring to give a more complete expression in terms of law to our original vision and commitment. Only in an order of justice shall we have peace. Only in peace shall we have national unity. Only in national unity can we accomplish our difficult tasks.”

Rabbi Miller said, “The American people have been delinquent for a hundred years in putting into practice the principles of the emancipation declaration. We cannot tolerate intolerance either morally or practically.”

The crowd that filed out of the gymnasium was unaware that a few students had tried unsuccessfully to stage a protest against the terms of the present civil rights bill. Nor did many in the crowd see police remove a wooden cross found near the gym. The charred remains of cloth fastened to it indicated it had been burning.

GEORGE WILLIAMS

The commissioners were faced with six overtures requesting withdrawal from the National Council of Churches. Most of the objections to continued affiliation opposed the actions of the NCC’s Commission on Religion and Race. The assembly expressed concern that “some of the activities” are “ill advised, and that in the future the Commission consider the conscience of local ministers and sessions and consult with and seek to work more closely with local ministers.” The final vote to remain in the NCC was substantial; some observers thought it was the strongest ever registered. The vote was preceded by three special speakers, allotted fifteen minutes each to provide the assembly with what was termed a “full objective educational program concerning the National Council of Churches.”

Another decision in the area of church union reaffirmed the conviction of the 103rd Assembly, “that ultimately the Presbyterian and Reformed communions in the United States should present a united life and witness according to the Reformed faith and Presbyterian order.” On the basis of this, the General Assembly instructed its “Ad Interim Committee on conversations with the General Synod of the Reformed Church in America to investigate with the like committee of the Reformed Church the advisability of expanding conversations to include the U.P.U.S.A. Church and other Reformed Churches looking toward ultimate union.” Some observers felt that this candid desire to merge with the so-called Northern Presbyterians, from whom the Southern Presbyterians divided over the issue of the Civil War, would hinder merger possibilities with the Reformed Church in America. An adopted report declared that there seem to be no essential “impediments” to union with the Reformed Church in America, and many resolutions were adopted to express by means of various acts of fellowship and cooperation the unity of the one faith of the two churches.

The church’s Committee on Christianity and Health, concerned with the emotional health of ministers and their wives, urged that “presbyteries take with great seriousness their responsibility to be a bishop or pastor to the ministers who may have particular need, making use of retreats, Bible study, and other proven ways of deepening supportive friendships.”

The same committee urged the adoption of a resolution asserting that it would be “contrary to our theological position if we as an Assembly of the Church of Christ should pronounce, in terms of research in tobacco, that an individual in our denomination shall not smoke.… Very moderate smoking, especially of cigars and pipes, so far as current research indicates, is not in itself injurious to health. The same applies to other oral intakes under attack.” Dr. Paul T. DeCamp, a chest surgeon, commented on the resolution, concluding his remarks with the advice that the assembly should “stick with religion and you may be right; get into medicine and you are almost sure to be wrong.” Thereupon the assembly immediately tabled the resolution of its Committee on Christianity and Health.

Reduction of nuclear stockpiles is desirable, according to a report adopted by the assembly, but it should occur multilaterally; unilateral action by the United States is unthinkable because of its obligations to itself and to the free peoples of the world.

By a vote of 240 to 145, the assembly took the final step permitting women to hold the offices of elder and minister in the denomination. An overture requesting that elders be permitted to administer the sacraments was, however, rejected.

O.P.C. Debates Separation

The Orthodox Presbyterian Church was preparing this year to send its sister church in Holland a detailed statement containing the biblical arguments for “separation from unbelief,” but after lengthy debate, the General Assembly sent the statement back to the drafting committee.

The church, founded in 1936 by J. Gresham Machen and several other Presbyterian ministers, is concerned about the indirect connection between De Gereformeerde Kerken and the World Council of Churches (through the church’s missionary agency) and has already expressed its disapproval.

In March of this year, the Holland church announced that it saw “no decisive hindrance” to full-fledged membership in the World Council. This precipitated a heated debate in the General Assembly of the OPC last month.

In the end, the assembly voted to approve the “general thrust” of the committee’s report but sent it back for redrafting. Some wording was viewed as extreme.

Though interpretations on separation and other questions varied, the commissioners at the General Assembly were united in their emphasis on scriptural support for their positions. Dr. Edward J. Young, in an evening address, noted the church’s “one desire—to act in accordance with the Scriptures.”

In other business, the General Assembly:

—Voted to “go on record as indicating its conviction that the work of medical missions is a proper work of the church.” This means that the church will proceed with plans to build a 22-bed hospital in Ghinda, Eritrea (Ethiopia).

—Went over the expenditures of its Committee on Christian Education with minute scrutiny but passed the committee’s budget, along with the others. (The committee had gone into debt in order to begin publishing its own Sunday school material. Its senior quarterly has been well received and is used in as many churches outside the denomination as within it.)

The host church this year was the Knox Orthodox Presbyterian Church of Silver Spring, Maryland, where the Rev. Charles H. Ellis is pastor. A former pastor of the church, the Rev. Glenn R. Coie, was named moderator.

GEORGE WILLIAMS

The Church Immovable

“We have been communicating with the Presbyterians for thirty years, yet we haven’t apparently moved an inch. This is disgraceful.” The speaker was an archdeacon at the Convocation of Canterbury last month. History had earlier been made when the gathering was addressed by Dr. J. W. C. Dougall, chairman of the Church of Scotland panel engaged in the current Anglican-Presbyterian conversations. Other participants in the latter, apart from the two national churches, are the Presbyterian Church of England and the Episcopal Church of Scotland. The most significant, and to some evangelicals the most disappointing, feature of Dr. Dougall’s address was his assertion that “so far as Scotland is concerned, the central, practical problem of Anglican-Presbyterian relations will be the relation of the Church of Scotland to the Episcopal Church in Scotland.”

What this means, in effect, is that the Church of Scotland (1,281,000 communicants) must negotiate with the Episcopal Church (55,000 communicants), which largely represents the “Higher” wing of Anglicanism, before progress is possible with the Church of England. Some years ago the editor of the Scottish Episcopal Church Year Book, in discussing Anglicans who come to Scotland, said: “It has always been a matter of regret that so many, especially from England, have joined themselves in ignorance to the Presbyterians and Established Church in our land.… It is hoped that skillfully directed publicity (without rancor) may be successful in damming this avoidable and unnecessary leakage.” It might perhaps have been more happily put in the interests of ecumenicity, but it got across a viewpoint not uncommon in his denomination.

J. D. DOUGLAS

Baptists And Beatles

Baptist church membership reached its peak in 1906, and is today back where it was eighty years ago despite the increased population, said the report presented last month to the annual assembly of the Baptist Union of Great Britain and Ireland. “Christian doctrines and standards,” it acknowledges, “are criticized and even repudiated, in a way unknown to this country during the past two centuries.”

The report is oddly equivocal, however, when, turning from the general to the particular, it mentions Honest to God, and welcomes the fact that doctrine and theology “have once more become subjects of eager discussion in the newspaper, the market-place and the studio.” The Profumo affair is mentioned disapprovingly, but then follows a quaint reference to the honors paid to, and the mass hysteria caused by, the Beatles, “a group of Liverpool young men.” The presidential address was given by Dr. L. G. Champion. The union’s statistics show a membership of 310,437.

J. D. DOUGLAS

Rewiring the House of God

American Methodists chafe under the image of a segregated church. Delegates to their General Conference in Pittsburgh faced problems squarely and set in motion orderly, if controversial, transitions.

A nattily attired company of young pickets, among them an expectant mother, marched quietly before the main entrance to Pittsburgh’s Civic Arena. They carried placards with a mutual plea to the 1964 General Conference of The Methodist Church: “Integrate Now!”

Racial upheaval is the pre-eminent theme of discussion among all major denominational conventions this year. In no religious communion is the problem more acute than in American Methodism with its segregated framework of church government: five geographically divided jurisdictions and a sixth embracing 90 per cent of the church’s 373,000 Negroes. A majority of the 858 delegates at the Quadrennial General Conference in Pittsburgh favored abolition of the Central (Negro) Jurisdiction. But the issue is so intricate that delegates settled for another try at voluntary restructure under a constitutional amendment dating back to 1956.

Demonstrators pressing for more decisive action staged an all-night vigil at two downtown Pittsburgh churches. Some 1,600 persons took part. They climaxed the effort with a “kneel-in” outside the arena. A spokesman, the Rev. James H. Laird of Detroit, said the demonstrators had come “hopeful of renewal among the people called Methodists and now find ourselves in dismay and sorrow at the failure of this conference to provide courageous leadership in removing racial injustice among the house of God.”

Laird’s group calls itself “Methodists for Church Renewal,” with “renewal” meant to apply primarily to the area of civil rights. A broader type of renewal, however, was urged on Methodism by important conference figures. The most outspoken was Dr. Eugene L. Smith, chief of the Methodist foreign missionary program, who successfully steered the enactment of a program designed to achieve “greater oneness.” Smith related the experience of J. B. Phillips, who in translating the Pauline Epistles told of feeling “like an electrician having to rewire a house when he could not turn off the main current.”

“We are called,” Smith declared, “to rewire the house of God with a rewiring adequate to our day, and we have to do it while the wires are ‘hot’ with the power of the Holy Spirit moving through them. If we do this, we have no idea whether we will be burned, whether we will be illumined.”

Smith, a leading advocate of rapprochement between mainstream Protestantism and the theologically conservative bloc, asked that a proposed congregational sharing program not be limited to Methodist churches. As an example, he indicated, “I know where we ought to throw strength behind Pentecostal churches.”

Smith is blunt in speaking of Methodist problems. Although the 10,235,000-member denomination is more prosperous than ever, signs of weakness are increasingly apparent. Since its last General Conference, The Methodist Church has been displaced by the Southern Baptist Convention as the nation’s largest denomination. The population percentage of Methodists in the United States has been declining gradually but steadily since 1950. A dramatic review of the encouraging as well as the discouraging trends in American Methodism was narrated by Smith and proved to be a highlight of the conference. It was patterned after a Broadway musical.

Hungerford in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. Reprinted by permission.

The two-week conference opened April 26 with the Episcopal Address given by Bishop Gerald H. Kennedy of Los Angeles. This traditional state-of-the-church report is prepared by a specially chosen bishop, then reviewed by all other bishops before he delivers it (see excerpts on page 32).

The racial problem hung heavy over the conference from the outset. Bishop Kennedy said that the General Conference “should insist upon the removal from its structure of any mark of racial segregation and we should do it without wasting time.” But he did not mention the Central Jurisdiction by name, and he offered no formula to abolish it. The eighty-two Methodist bishops sometimes debate on legislation affecting agencies on which they serve, but they have no vote in plenary sessions.

One of the first announcements made at the conference was that the Council of Bishops had chosen Bishop Prince A. Taylor, Jr., of Monrovia, Liberia, as president-designate. No other Negro has ever held the post.

A total of 4,503 proposals for legislative action were filed with the 1964 General Conference. They ranged from a request to have bishops appoint preachers by casting lots to a plea for the study of chiropractic. As expected, however, the most recurring theme was what to do with the Central Jurisdiction, which is as old as the present Methodist Church. It was created in the interests of ecumenicity at the 1939 General Conference, which brought together in a merger the Methodist Protestant Church, the Methodist Episcopal Church, and the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. Negroes voted against the racial division, but Southern whites generally regarded it a condition of unification.

A constitutional amendment aimed at voluntary abolition of the Central Jurisdiction was enacted by the 1956 General Conference and ratified by The Methodist Church’s ninety-eight annual conferences in the United States within two years. The legislation provides for optional transfer of annual conferences and local churches from the Central Jurisdiction to one of the geographical jurisdictions. Thus far twenty-seven local churches have made the switch or are in the process. Not a single annual conference, however, has yet transferred.

Responsibility for digging Methodists out of their racial dilemma rested during the past quadrennium on a thirty-six-member commission headed by New York lawyer Charles C. Parlin. In this role the 65-year-old Parlin was easily the most respected personality among the 10,000 or more Methodists who traveled to the Pittsburgh conference. His broad understanding of issues and procedures and his calm and humble spirit were esteemed even by his opponents.

Parlin’s commission, which included six Central Jurisdiction representatives, brought lo the conference a thirty-four-page “Report on Plan of Action for the Elimination of the Central Jurisdiction.” Four Southern representatives on the commission refused initially to endorse the document, but by last month they had reversed themselves. The document therefore had the support of thirty-five of the thirty-six commission members (the lone dissenter: Dr. Dean Richardson, a district superintendent from Buffalo who favors a new constitutional amendment).

After more than nine hours of debate, the conference adopted the plan with only minor changes. It includes provisions for working out the thorny problem of Negro representation in the church leadership—which now is much greater than Negroes are entitled to on a strictly numerical basis. A measure of financial relief is promised for underpaid Negro ministers.

Subsequently, the South Central Jurisdiction Board of Lay Activities voted to urge annual conferences in its area to implement the Parlin commission plan. This was regarded as an encouraging development. Chief resistance, however, is expected in the Southeastern Jurisdiction, in whose boundaries reside nearly half the members of the Central Jurisdiction.

The racial question came up in a number of other ways throughout the conference. Delegates repeatedly beat down attempts to impose integrationist mandates, despite a reminder that a Negro bishop had been barred from Easter services at a Methodist church in Jackson, Mississippi.

Probably the most decisive vote on the racial question came during consideration of the proposed merger of The Methodist Church with the 758,000-mcmber Evangelical United Brethren Church. Dr. W. Astor Kirk, an economist and political scientist, asked delegates to record a judgment “that the Central Jurisdiction structure of The Methodist Church not be made a part of the plan of merger with the Evangelical United Brethren Church.” Kirk’s motion carried by a vote of 464 to 362.

The merger itself with the more theologically conservative EUB Church was approved in principle. Preparation of a plan of union was entrusted to a committee that was instructed to present it at a special session of the General Conference to be called in 1966. Target date for the actual merger is the spring of 1968. EUB Bishop Reuben H. Mueller, currently president of the National Council of Churches, conceded that some EUB pastors and churches will withdraw in protest of the merger. The merged denomination will probably be called “The United Methodist Church.”

Delegates also quickly approved a commission report which was regarded as a setback for the six-way Protestant merger proposed by Dr. Eugene Carson Blake (see CHRISTIANITY TODAY, News, May 8, 1964, page 47). Parlin, who represented the commission, told delegates:

“The promoters of this proposal ask each of the six participating churches to get from their highest legislative bodies directions and orders to proceed to the drafting of a six-way plan. Your commission wrestled with this problem and decided that we were not ready to ask this General Conference for such an order because there were too many unsolved problems. It left the commission with three alternatives: the first was to accept the proposition and bring to you a request for an order to draft a six-way plan. Secondly, to say it was premature and withdraw from the consultation. But your commission took a middle ground, and said we would recommend continuing our consultation, but that we thought we should make known to our fellow participants certain concerns which we felt.”

The race question was again introduced during a discussion of Christian social concerns. The debate in this case turned on whether “civil disobedience” is ever justifiable. Delegates finally approved a statement which noted that “in rare instances, where legal recourse is unavailable or inadequate for redress of grievances from laws or their application that, on their face, are unjust or immoral, the Christian conscience will obey God rather than man.”

The church-wide fund to assist Methodist ministers and laymen under duress in racial issues was established by the conference. An attempt to name the fund the “Civil Disobedience Relief Fund” and to set aside a specific Sunday for an offering was defeated. The fund will be maintained by voluntary contributions from churches and individuals.

Support for the Negroes’ voting rights and their access to public accommodations was voiced by delegates. Reports asserting that all persons regardless of race may attend or join Methodist churches anywhere were approved without debate. The reports gave no alternative for churches that fail to honor the principle.

The General Conference reaffirmed the historic Methodist position against the use of alcoholic beverages with scarcely a skirmish. An amendment to modify the stand by affirming “that sincere Christians differ” on drinking was soundly defeated. Methodists expect all church members to abstain, and “those accepting nomination or appointment for any official leadership in the church are expected to set a worthy example by refraining from all use of intoxicating beverages.”

Methodists also oppose smoking, but an expected move to enforce the church’s position in light of recently published studies linking cigarettes and disease failed to materialize. Many Methodists, even paid employees of official church agencies, ignore their church’s stand on drinking as well as smoking.

Action by the delegates will provide Methodists with their first new hymnal in twenty-five years. Selections of a special hymnal committee were overwhelmingly endorsed by the General Conference. Hymns that will be making their debut in Methodist churches include “How Great Thou Art.” Among those that appeared in the old hymnal but are being dropped is “From Greenland’s Icy Mountains.” A motion to delete “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” because of its association with the Civil War died for lack of a second. The new hymnal will not appear before the end of 1965. It will cost about $3.00 per copy.

Also approved by delegates was a revised and enlarged Book of Worship which leaders called the most comprehensive book of its kind to be published in the United States. The revision was geared toward a more contemporary approach to most of the services, rights, and sacraments of the church. The Book of Worship is recommended for Methodist churches, but its use is not mandatory.

Other action by the conference: establishment of a maximum retirement age for bishops of 72 instead of 74 (a move to reduce the mandatory retirement age for ministers from 72 to 70 was defeated); an almost unanimous vote of continued support of and participation in the National and World Councils of Churches despite numerous rank-and-file protests; anti approval of a budget of $18 million for the worldwide work of thirteen national and international Methodist agencies for each of the next four years, a 20 per cent increase over the past quadrennium.

An unexpected guest at the conference whose appearance was announced only a few hours in advance was Roman Catholic Bishop John J. Wright of Pittsburgh, a leading voice for the liberals at the Second Vatican Council. Wright’s presence marked the first time a Roman Catholic bishop had ever spoken to a Methodist General Conference.

“We welcome one another as Christians and the first business of Christians is to give thanks, so let me come today to say a few thank-yous,” he said, whereupon he expressed gratitude for the nice things Methodists have said about Popes Pius, Paul, and John. He also cited Bishop Fred P. Corson, president of the World Methodist Council, and Dr. Albert C. Outler, of Perkins School of Theology, for their perceptiveness as observers at recent Vatican Council sessions in Rome.

“There are many and deep and basic differences between us,” Bishop Wright said. But he declared that “precisely as Christians we share a difference. We share a radical difference also involving everything that is important in time and eternity, a difference from the world and the spirit of the world that must keep and bring us ever closer together as the spirit of the world becomes more and more secularist, inspired by a certain atheism frequently practical and often ductile, a secularism, a scientism, an atheistic humanism that constitutes the grounds of a difference between the world and us as Christians, whatever difference is among us, which is total.”

Religion At The Fair

Spokesmen for religious pavilions at the New York World’s Fair say they are encouraged and gratified at the interest their exhibits have generated among fairgoers. A total of 300,000 leaflets were distributed at the Vatican Pavilion in less than two weeks. At the Billy Graham Pavilion and the Protestant and Orthodox Center, visitors are streaming through at a rate of 15,000 or more a day.

The Graham building features hourly showings of Man in the Fifth Dimension, a 28-minute Todd-AO color evangelistic film. Graham narrates the film, which includes testimonies from Dr. Elmer W. Engstrom, RCA president, Dean Calvin Linton of George Washington University, and a Harvard University psychiatrist. The film is climaxed by an appeal for commitment to Christ. Inquirers are invited to meet with specially trained counsellors who are on hand at all times.

Excerpts From The Episcopal Address

Here are excerpts from the Episcopal Address delivered by Bishop Gerald Kennedy at the Methodist General Conference:

While our fathers were good organizers, they regarded organization as a means to fulfill the evangelistic purpose. Their success was a testimony to the power of witnessing to Christian experience and another example of how the preaching of the Word of God saves men by faith.

In our fascination with subjective analyzing we have reduced the awful catastrophe of sin to a disease, and man’s moral betrayals become mere sickness.

We believe in spiritual and physical discipline and we do not believe there is anything pious about inefficiency. But it is our opinion that we spend too much time at the General Conference tinkering with our machinery. The president of the Carnegie Foundation has reminded us that almost always the last act of a dying corporation is to issue a new and enlarged edition of the rule book. An excessive attention to rules and laws may be … a sign of sickness.

We stand for the truth that nothing is any good for any people unless it brings them closer to God and makes them more aware of the spiritual foundations of their being.

We believe that this General Conference should insist upon the removal from its structure of any mark of racial segregation and we should do it without wasting time.

We rejoice in the growth of the ecumenical movement and in the development of the ecumenical spirit.… But we are not sure that God wills the churches of the Reformation to become one organic union. We believe that our pluralism has produced much good fruit, not the least of which has been freedom. We doubt seriously that eliminating our denominations would solve all our problems. We have no intention of apologizing for our own heritage or slowing down our evangelistic efforts until some proposed merger has been accomplished. The final goal for any Church is not necessarily merger but how to use its resources to serve Christ better.

The connection between cigarette smoking and disease is now so clear that no Church can be neutral regarding this habit.

We do not share the current pessimism which speaks of a “post-Protestant era.” … Let The Methodist Church proclaim that so far as it is concerned, we are not post-anything, and the best is yet to be.

The coming of the Holy Spirit in power demands human preparation.… The time has come for us to ask ourselves what precisely we believe.… The spirit of expectancy must possess us anew.

The biggest religious attraction at the fair is Michelangelo’s “Pieta,” on display in a dramatic setting at the Vatican Pavilion. The pavilion itself surprises many Protestants with its profuse display of Scripture. Immediately inside the main entrance is a ten-foot square mosaic with the inscription: “God sent his son into the world that the world may be saved through him. John 3:17.” Outside, in gold letters, are the words of Pope Paul: “Let the world know this church looks at the world with profound understanding, with sincere admiration and with a sincere attention not of conquering it but of serving it, not of despising it but of appreciating it, not of condemning it, but of strengthening and saving it.”

The Protestant and Orthodox Center is getting a late start. Its chapel, its theater, and a number of its exhibits were not ready on opening day. The showing of the controversial film Parable was therefore delayed for several weeks. Among unfinished exhibits were those planned by the governments of Israel (an aquarium with fish front the Sea of Galilee) and Jordan (olive wood and mother-of-pearl carvings).

In a pavilion operated by the government of Sudan is displayed a recently discovered fresco of the Madonna and Child painted between 1,000 and 1,200 years ago.

The large Mormon Pavilion features a fourteen-minute color film purporting to answer such questions as “where we came from, why we are here, and where we are going.” One scene shifts to a hospital delivery room and shows a newborn infant. Other scenes attempt to depict souls in pre-creation existence and in the hereafter (bleached blondes with flip hairstyles predominate in both).

A Menacing Backwash

The Greek Orthodox Ecumenical Patriarchate at Istanbul has been threatened repeatedly in a backwash of the Cyprus crisis. Hostile moves against the patriarchate by authorities in traditionally Muslim Turkey have been denounced in Christian circles throughout the world.

There has been much talk of the possibility of ousting the patriachate from its ancient seat in Istanbul, formerly Constantinople. This is a long-standing threat, dating from the time several years ago when Turkish newspapers first began accusing the patriarchate of political agitation in favor of the Greek attitude on Cyprus.

Religious News Service quoted Athens Radio as saying that the Ankara government is planning to raze the patriarchate on the pretext that this is necessary for city planning and improvement.

The report was confirmed in London by Metropolitan Athenagoras, the Ecumenical Patriarch’s representative in Britain. He said the government also ordered two senior members of the Istanbul hierarchy to leave the country, forced the patriarchate to cease printing its official publication, and banned a film showing the meeting between Patriarch Athenagoras and Pope Paul VI that took place during the Pontiff’s Holy Land pilgrimage in January.

At Buck Hill Falls, Pennsylvania, Dr. O. Frederick Nolde told the U. S. Conference of the World Council of Churches that he had received assurance from the foreign minister of Turkey that both the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople and “the person of the Patriarch will remain inviolate.”

The foreign minister also said, “I hope that you have also drawn the attention of Archbishop Makarios, who is the president of Cyprus as well as being a man of the doth, in connection with the planned massacre of defenseless Turks—including women, children, and old people in Cyprus since Christmas of 1963.”

The World Council has not made public any communications with Archbishop Makarios.

Books

Book Briefs: May 22, 1964

A Secular Version Of Jesus Christ

The Secular Meaning of the Gospel: An Original Enquiry, by Paul M. Van Buren (Macmillan, 1963, 205 pp., $4.95), is reviewed by James Daane, editorial associate, CHRISTIANITY TODAY.

This book reinterprets the Gospel to make it meaningful to the Christian who, because he lives in the twentieth century, is a secular man who thinks in secular categories. Reinterpretation is demanded, says Paul Van Buren, associate professor of theology at Episcopal Theological Seminary of the Southwest in Austin, Texas, because “the whole tenor of thought of our world today makes the biblical and classical formulations of this Gospel unintelligible” (p. 6). What the secular tenor of thought cannot accept, to say it all at once, is the assertion that Jesus Christ is both God and man.

Van Buren thinks that if we really take history seriously and make use of linguistic analysis, we can discover what the New Testament writers and the Church Fathers intended to say, and did say within the thought modes of their day: and we can thus retain the real essence of the Gospel while eliminating those elements of the biblical and classical formulations that are offensive to the modern, secular man.

Once an admirer of Karl Barth, the author now rejects Barth’s theological method. Barth seeks to understand faith front within faith; to this Van Buren does not object, for he does the same. But Barth thinks that if one exegetes the Scriptures he will hear God’s Word, and that nothing more needs to be done except repeat that Word to modern man. Van Buren thinks this is not enough; the intended meaning of the biblical writers and of the Fathers must be dug out and expressed in modern modes of thought and speech. What Van Buren wants is more than merely a new technique of communication, or a modern idiom. He is disturbed that Barth is not bothered by the fact that the confession that Jesus is very God of very God “may be literally nonsense to men today” (p. 8). Van Buren, in his introduction to his translation of Barth’s new book God Here and Now, expresses his amazement that Barth should be so concerned with what is said and so unconcerned about how it is said. Barth’s reply would doubtless be that Van Buren’s concern about the how has lost the what that should be proclaimed.

Van Buren wants to retain a historical Jesus of Nazareth to escape pure subjectivity; it is a historical Jesus that is seen, he says, within the Easter perspective. He therefore also rejects Bultmann’s existential theological method; for as Fritz Buri in Europe and Schubert M. Ogden (Christ Without Myth) in the United States have shown, Bultmann’s method, if consistently applied, cannot retain the need for a historical Jesus. The Easter perspective, urges Van Buren, is not sheer subjectivity; what is seen in this perspective is the actual Jesus of history.

Van Buren then views the gospel writers in terms of their concrete historicity—men living at a certain time, thinking in terms of the then current categories, using words and language in the peculiar mode of their time. He then applies linguistic analysis to their thought, particularly to their statements, “The Word became flesh,” and “Jesus is Lord.” In the process of analysis Van Buren makes many astute observations, for he is a competent theological thinker and a good writer.

A full-dress review of his analysis cannot be given here. Van Buren concentrates on Christology; he shares the historical concerns of Ritschl and Harnack and their criticisms that Hellenistic terms like “substance” and “nature” are too static or too materialistic to do service to the verb “became” in the statement “the Word became flesh,” and to the verb in the assertion “Jesus is Lord.” Chalcedon must go; modern secular man is too aware of the nature of history to accept Chalcedon.

What is the essence of the Gospel? What were the Fathers trying to say in their time? From the perspective of Easter, they saw Jesus as the one man who was wholly free for others; and they experienced that his freedom was contagious, for they caught it, too, and found themselves so free as to be able to live for others. What they saw from the blik of Easter was a unique man, God’s man, God’s Elect, his Servant, but nothing more than a man. What indeed, asks Van Buren, could the “more” possibly mean?

The Incarnation, traditionally interpreted as God’s entrance into history, is nothing more than a pointer that points toward history. The Virgin Birth is not factually true. If it were, Jesus would not be historical in the sense in which we are, that is, wholly historical. The doctrine simply indicates that Jesus is unique, the one truly free man. An actual Virgin Birth would be open to all the same objections as is an actual Resurrection. For Easter is only the experience of discernment in which we come to see Jesus as the man who is wholly free to live in love for others. This, says Van Buren, is what Chalcedon meant when it said “God of very God”; and this, he says, is what he has said in his own way.

He then shows how his reinterpretation relates to other Christian truths. I mention only two. The mission of the Church is to live in the way of freedom to love and serve others, and “not the way of trying to make others Christians.” He concedes that Christian prayer has been in the language of address, but for the modern man prayer is not speaking to God; it is rather a contemplation of a situation in the perspective of Easter. The twentieth-century adult Christian concerned, for example, about the weather is “as much inclined as the next man to consult the weather map and the meteorologist for the answer to a question about a change in the weather, rather than to ‘take it to the Lord in prayer.’ ”

One may doubt the accuracy of many of Van Buren’s historical and theological judgments, but not his personal honesty. He explicitly says what he believes and as explicitly says what he rejects. There is no need to wonder about his theological position. He frankly admits that he has reduced the Gospel to historical and ethical dimensions and has eliminated the religious and metaphysical dimensions. He says plainly with reference to prayer, “Our secular thinking leaves us puzzled if we are asked to posit ‘someone’ to whom to speak in prayer” (p. 188). His admitted reduction of the Gospel, he says, is no more a loss than was the reduction of astrology to astronomy, and of alchemy to chemistry. “Theology cannot escape this tendency if it is to be a serious mode of contemporary thought, and such a ‘reduction’ of content need no more be regretted in theology than in astronomy, chemistry, or painting” (p. 198); and he adds, “We would also claim that we have left nothing essential behind” (p. 200).

If we think his reinterpretation too radical, we are told that the alternatives are few and even less attractive. One of them is “a very orthodox but meaningless faith which refuses to enter the secular world” (p. 200). The question we must face—and Van Buren does not—is whether the orthodox are not after all more committed to a secular world in their belief that God enters it than is Van Buren, who keeps God outside.

Few theologians, I think, will be moved by Van Buren’s linguistic analysis, for it does not convincingly support his reinterpretation of the Gospel. It is the weakest point in his book. All too evidently, his reinterpretation of the Gospel rests rather on the modern mind, which insists that an incarnation, a virgin birth, a resurrection, or indeed any transcendent miraculous act just is not possible. Consequently, what he in his subtitle calls “an original enquiry” is nothing more, except for surface differences, than a re-echo of an old theological modernism. But even so, the Church ought not to ignore Van Buren’s reinterpretation of Jesus Christ, for he can rightfully say, “This interpretation of Jesus and the Gospel is an example of the kind of Christology which is being developed in many quarters by men influenced by biblical theology, and it is intended to be faithful to the concerns evident in the Christology of the Fathers” (p. 55).

It is not permitted to us to judge Van Buren’s intentions as he seeks to establish his sonship. But since we have equal right to exercise “linguistic analysis” we may, on the basis of what the son and the Fathers have written, issue the judgment that this is a son the Fathers would not recognize as their own. Van Buren’s theology comes not from the Fathers but from his twentieth-century neighbors.

JAMES DAANE

A View On History

History, Archaeology and Christian Humanism, Vol. I, by William Foxwell Albright (McGraw-Hill, 1964, 342 pp., $6.95), is reviewed by John Wm. Wevers, professor of Near Eastern studies, University of Toronto, Toronto, Ontario.

This book is divided into three parts: “General Surveys,” “Special Areas,” and “Some Scholarly Approaches.” The last section evaluates the work of James Breasted, Gerhard Kittel, Arnold Toynbee, Eric Voegelin, Rudolf Bultmann, and Albright himself. These as well as the five chapters of the middle section have all appeared in other publications. Only the three chapters in the first section appear here for the first time. These three are also the most informative for probing Albright’s approach to historical synthesis.

The first study, “A Theistic Humanism,” is Albright’s attempt to define his approach to history. He accepts Dawson’s understanding of humanism as “a tradition of culture and ethics founded on the study of humane letters.” Three main types are analyzed: classical, atheistic, and theistic. Under the last-named he discusses Dawson, Toynbee, Butterfield, Daniélou, and de Lubac appreciatively but critically. In spite of such writers as Reinhold Niebuhr, Tillich, and Bultmann, he maintains that Germans and Americans do not take history seriously.

Albright classifies historical judgment as follows: typical occurrence, particular facts, cause and effect, value and personal reactions. The first two are scientifically objective, and the last two, though subjective, necessary. Historical cause and effect is the most tendentious because it is difficult to be fully objective. Archaeological studies are of tremendous value to the ancient historian precisely because “they deal almost entirely with judgments of fact and typical occurrence”—a statement that the reviewer suspects to be more true of archaeology than of archaeologists. It is this faith in archaeology that has led Albright to a greater conservatism regarding the historical accuracy of Old Testament traditions.

In the author’s view of the impact and analysis of cultures, he rejects both the instrumentalist and the functionalist approach, though he takes certain elements of both approaches for his own. It is correct neither to view Hebrew culture as so completely interlocking that it can be understood by and in itself, nor to understand it simply as the product or amalgam of surrounding cultures.

The second chapter is entitled “The Human Mind in Action: Magic, Science, and Religion,” the subtitle having been borrowed from Bronislaw Malinowski. Albright’s view of the kind of thinking underlying these three is strongly influenced by Lévy-Bruhl’s famous division: prelogical vs. logical mentality. Albright quite rightly prefers the term “protological,” since “prelogical” wrongly introduces the concept of chronological priority. To these forms of thinking he adds empirical logic. Formal logic began with the Greeks, thus does not characterize the Old Testament. Primitive man thought empirically (in his everyday living) as well as protologically (in his higher culture, where experience was no guide since history actually did not exist).

In Chapter 3 Albright discusses “The Place of the Old Testament in the History of Thought”; he defends the thesis that the Old Testament contains next to no evidence of protological, but rather of empirical logic. To this reviewer, this is his most important contribution. The ancient Israelites had a sense of historical movement. Salvation was a series of redemptive acts in history: the Exodus, Crossing the Waters, the Wilderness Journey, and the Promised Land. This is diametrically opposed to myth, which is timeless and static, and the sooner Old Testament theologians abandon the notion of myth the better. Israel, in contrast to Egyptians, Mesopotamians, Hittites, and Canaanites, could and did view religious experience empirically, i.e., in the light of a historical faith. Albright may not be as separate from the views of Alt, Noth, and von Rad as he pretends.

JOHN WM. WEVERS

Panel On Peace

Biblical Realism Confronts the Nation, edited by Paul Peachey (Fellowship Publications, 1963, 224 pp., $4), is reviewed by C. Gregg Singer, chairman, Department of History, Catawba College, Salisbury, North Carolina.

This symposium, with contributions by nine scholars in company with Paul Peachey of the Church Peace Mission, is an effort to arouse the Christian conscience to the perils involved in nuclear warfare and to encourage the churches to take a strong stand against any national policies in domestic or foreign affairs that might lead to such a cataclysm.

In his introductory chapter Peachey sets forth the problem in a compelling manner and offers a real challenge to his panel of scholars, who originally gave these chapters as papers at a conference held in June, 1962, near Washington, D. C. But the panel never actually meets the challenge. Although the title of the book conveys the idea that biblical realism must be the basis for any solution to the problem of nuclear warfare, it is exactly at this point that these writers fail to meet the challenge. There is in this volume no consistent biblical theology or realism with which to confront the American people. There is frequent reference to biblical passages, but the general thrust of the book is fragmented by the lack of agreement in appeal to the Scriptures. In his conclusion Peachey himself reveals a vague awareness that somewhere his panel has failed him.

The failure lies in the fact that all the panel members are in the liberal camp; some are strictly neo-orthodox in their approach to the Scriptures while others are existentialist. In every chapter it is obvious that the writer does not hold to the inspiration and infallibility of the Scriptures and that the acceptance of higher criticism has so vitiated the message that there is little biblical realism. Most of the authors fall into difficulty because they have no doctrine of common grace; at the same time, they try to create some kind of a substitute. This predicament is clearly expressed in the chapter by Lionel Whiston, who struggles manfully with his assignment and comes very close, only to miss the goal.

The fact that the Church Peace Mission was apparently unable to find conservative scholars to espouse the cause of Christian pacifism should raise some profound questions among its leaders. The value of this volume is that it presents the thinking of sincere liberals on one of the most serious issues of the day, and their failure to find a biblical answer for it.

C. GREGG SINGER

The Early Baillie

Faith in God and Its Christian Consummation, by D. M. Baillie (Faber & Faber [London], 1964, 308 pp., 30s.), is reviewed by W. R. Forrester, emeritus professor of practical theology and Christian ethics, St. Andrews University, St. Andrews, Scotland.

The great success of Donald Baillie’s later book, God Was in Christ, has revived interest in this earlier work (1927), out of print for many years but now given a second edition with an admirable and penetrating foreword by Professor John McIntyre. The latter rightly claims that Faith in God has a relevance and an importance for contemporary thought far beyond its mere historical value in giving him a “fix” at the end of the Kantian and at the beginning of the Barthian era. Though Baillie was acquainted with the earlier work of Barth and with some of Kierkegaard, there is no trace here that either had influenced him, cast as his thought had already been in the mold of idealist philosophy.

To show how dated some of the book may be, one of his earliest illustrations is of the poor but pious charwoman whose simple faith owes nothing to theological speculation. It would be necessary, to make this illustration comprehensible to the young and to our American brethren, to explain that a pious charwoman is not a medieval martyred saint but a spiritual entity of some importance, especially in the Victorian era!

The theological world has moved a very long way since 1927, and Donald Baillie too moved beyond many of the positions he takes up here. But the secular world has moved even further and faster, and in disconcerting directions. Thirty-seven years ago it was still possible to speak of Christendom and be more or less understood. It was also possible to get fairly general agreement that Christian morality was a good thing, not a series of mistakes. Many of the questions with which Donald Baillie wrestled have ceased to interest even thoughtful people. Not that we, or he, can claim to have found the answers. We no longer ask the same questions, or expect any answer to the questions we may ask.

Faith did not come easily to Donald Baillie, and he was plagued all his life by chronic ill health; yet students the world over found he spoke to their condition. In this book, as in all his others, we see abundant evidence that here was no arid theologian peeping at the world, surrounded with books in some ivory tower, churning out intellectual exercises, but a spiritual athlete of no mean stature. The faith of which he speaks he won with toil and thought and discipline and prayer. Can there be any higher recommendation?

W. R. FORRESTER

Mental Stimulant

New Meanings for New Beings, by Richard Luecke (Fortress, 1964, 267 pp., $3.50), is reviewed by Alvin L. Hoksbergen, pastor, Ann Arbor Christian Reformed Church, Ann Arbor, Michigan.

Joseph Sittler of the University of Chicago makes these comments on Dr. Luecke’s book: “This is a sober, faithful book for the hour. The book is as good as we need, better than our lethargy deserves. I wish I could say that pastors and teachers will exult in it. That will not be true—which is a judgment. But not about the book.”

These are challenging words. If true, they indict today’s pastors and teachers, making the book even more important. In this reviewer’s opinion, the indictment has more truth than many of us would like to admit.

The author is not concerned with theology as such, nor with a careful analysis of the Christian religion. Neither is he interested in giving easy answers to perplexing questions. His concern is to stimulate thought on the relevance that the Christian faith should have for many crucial areas of life.

The first three chapters are concerned with the problems of language and innocent suffering. The religious language of our day must be re-examined in the light of the new world in which we live. The Church is too often busy answering questions that are no longer being asked. When this happens, the “point of contact” with modern man is lost, and we are left with a suffering mankind to which the mercy and love of God are meaningless, empty words.

The next four chapters deal with the concept of the “self” in psychological and biblical language, the corporate society made up of persons with different gifts and abilities, the relation between law and love, and the relation between church and state.

The final three chapters treat the relevance faith has for the world of physical things, for the world of learning, and for the combination of things and ideas in artistic expression.

Each chapter begins by listening to some of the “secular” and traditional “religious” language of the day concerning the subject under discussion. The author then seeks the meaning that the words and deeds of Jesus and the prophets have for that topic. Toward the close of the chapter he takes a part of the Church’s liturgy and shows how our life of worship applies to the subject of the chapter.

Dr. Luecke has a rich background of knowledge and a keen understanding of problems. A refreshing sense of humor flows easily from his pen. This book is well suited for group studies by church or campus groups.

ALVIN L. HOKSBERGEN

Written For Whom?

Palestinian Judaism in the Time of Jesus Christ, by Joseph Bonsirven, S.J., translated by William Wolf (Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1964, 271 pp., $5.50), is reviewed by Jakob Jocz, professor of systematic theology, Wycliffe College, Toronto, Ontario.

The author, who died in 1958, was New Testament professor at the Pontifical Biblical Institute in Rome and a well-known authority on rabbinic Judaism. An earlier work, On the Ruins of the Temple (England, 1931), was greatly admired by the present reviewer. It is therefore with reluctance that he exercises the prerogative of criticism in reviewing the present book.

First a word about the translation. Granting that no translator can ever reproduce the original, still with greater care many mistakes could have been avoided. There are some clumsy sentences, some grammatical mistakes, and an occasional misunderstanding of meaning. The reviewer was puzzled by the statement concerning oral law which the sages held to have been revealed to Moses “including all the decisions of the rabbis, grammatical minutiae, and even all the reflections a pious student will show his teacher.…” We suspect, without the original text before us, that this ought to read: “a pious teacher will show his students.” But on the whole the book reads easily, and the language is not the problem.

The real problem lies elsewhere.

No one can write a book on Judaism based on rabbinic sources without exposing himself to some criticism. In the case of this work there is much to criticize. The first mistake committed by the author is to treat occasional rabbinic utterances as if they were dogmatic statements. Judaism knows nothing of dogmatic formulation as is traditional with Christianity. Except for halakha, which lays down obligatory practice, Judaism is not a dogmatic religion. No rabbi can speak for the whole of Jewry, only for himself. Sentiments on the part of certain rabbis recorded in Talmud and Midrash are not statements of doctrine but views of individuals. These views were colored by the circumstances of the times, the needs of the people, the economic and political condition of the community. In his extensive bibliography Bonsirven quotes the book by C. F. Montefiore, Rabbinic Literature and Gospel Teachings (1930). This erudite work by a famous Jewish scholar was occasioned by the publication of Strack and Billerbeck’s Commentary to the New Testament from Talmud and Midrash. Montefiore was able to show how Christian writers are mistaken in treating rabbinic texts as authoritative utterances.

It is a fact that for every quotation from rabbinic sources Bonsirven uses to make a point, another quotation could be cited to prove the opposite. The author knows Judaism well enough not to feel uneasy about it, and he occasionally wonders how seriously he can treat a text.

But the book suffers from an even greater defect. The title reads: Palestinian Judaism in the Time of Jesus Christ. This is an audacious title full of promise but impossible to accomplish. There are no written rabbinic sources prior to A.D. 70. The author to some large extent depends upon the Apocrypha Pseudepigrapha for evidence, but the question immediately arises to what extent these writings represent traditional Judaism. The fact that the synagogue has eliminated these books from the Canon ought to be given full consideration. Neither Josephus nor Philo is a representative of rabbinic Judaism. The rabbinic texts are of a much later date, some very late indeed.

This brings us to the next point. Bonsirven works on the assumption that the defeat suffered at the hands of the Romans and the disappearance of the temple brought no “real revolution in matters relating to doctrine” (p. IX). But this is an utterly unwarranted assumption. Two major events changed the whole structure of Judaism: the disappearance of the priestly cultic religion and the rise of the Christian Church. When Bonsirven refers in his text to “rabbis” and “laymen,” he imports a Roman Catholic concept foreign to the synagogue: all Jews are “laymen,” rabbis included. We mention this only to show the distance from a temple-oriented to a synagogue-oriented faith. The assumption therefore that “Judaism” prior to A.D. 70 was the same as it was after the Destruction rests upon a misunderstanding.

Although the author has tried to be fair to Judaism, he has not succeeded. We are assured by the publishers that “the constant purpose of this study is objectivity, not apologetics,” but this is not borne out by the text. The author assesses Judaism, or what he calls “Judaism,” from his own theological position, and this creates an unusual situation. There is a hidden irony in that Bonsirven finds fault with Judaism in the very points that are characteristic features of his own church. It is somewhat startling to have a Roman Catholic, and a Jesuit at that, criticize Judaism for its legalism; for its “arithmetic rule of commutative justice”; for its “rigorous principle of retribution”; for the practice of superstition such as the use of “amulets” (sic); for its teachers’ giving the appearance of being better informed than anyone else about “other-worldly mysteries” (sic); for its misunderstanding of the “gratuitousness of grace”; for its emphasis upon the immortability of the soul over against the resurrection. Only once does the author admit that the Jews excel “Catholics”: in their concept of the works of charity, which is superior to the giving of alms (p. 153).

The author has not managed to hide a certain hostility, which becomes most evident in his treatment of relations between Jews and Gentiles. It is obvious that the text was prepared before the changed attitude on the part of the Vatican toward the Jewish people. On this subject the book is most misleading and even dangerous.

It leaves the reader with the impression that the Jews harbor everlasting enmity toward all non-Jews: the heathen are God’s enemies; one is allowed to profit from their errors; Israelites may keep an object stolen from a pagan; the nations will be annihilated when Messiah comes; and the like. The extent of this lack of objectivity can be seen from the following sentence: “Another idea, formulated after the third century but suggested earlier, is that Israel will possess the wealth of the nations” (p. 222). But anyone who has read Isaiah knows that this is not an “idea” formulated by the rabbis (!). It is hardly fair to blame rabbinic Judaism for a biblical text (cf. Isa. 61:5 f).

The paramount question is: For whom is this book written? This abridged edition of a larger work is not a book for scholars. It can be no rival to G. F. Moore’s Judaism, nor to Montefiore’s Rabbinic Anthology. As a popular work, it is misleading by its bias and pretense. It lacks a glossary to explain rabbinic terms, provides no historical background, and takes too much for granted for the ordinary reader. It is also puzzling: how can Judaism be blamed for “an excessive respect for God” (p. 27)? Frequently the author both castigates and praises Judaism for one and the same thing. This is not a book we can easily recommend.

JAKOB JOCZ

Paperbacks

The Heidelberg Catechism for Today, by Karl Barth, translated by Shirley C. Guthrie, Jr. (John Knox, 1964, 141 pp., $2). First English translation of Barth’s Die christliche Lehre nach dem Heidelberger Katechismus, and Einführung in den Heidelberger Katechismus. It presents a brief view of Reformed theology in the sixteenth century, and glimpses of Barth’s own.

The Teen-ager You’re Dating, by Walter Riess (Concordia, 1964, 127 pp., $1). Sound counsel in language youth will read.

The Christian Faith and War in the Nuclear Age (Abingdon, 1963, 108 pp., $1). A report of the Methodist Church’s special study commission on nuclear war. Worthy of study.

Unity in the Dark, by Donald Gillies (Banner of Truth Trust [London], 1964, 128 pp., 3s. 6d.). A conservative look at the ecumenical movement that is critical of conservative evangelicals as well as of the ecumenical movement. It says many things that should be said, and others with which many evangelicals themselves will disagree.

Tell el Amarna and the Bible, by Charles F. Pfeiffer (Baker, 1963, 75 pp., $1.50). One in the series of “Baker Studies in Biblical Archaeology,” written in such form as will appeal to the non-expert but serious laymen. This study, by a competent writer, deals specifically with Egypt in the Amarna Age (fourteenth and fifteenth centuries B.C.).

Ideas

The Legacy of John Calvin

“On this day, with the setting sun, the brightest light in the world and he who had been the strength of the Church was taken back to heaven.” So wrote Theodore Beza of the passing of John Calvin four hundred years ago, on May 27, 1564.

Who was this man who, though one of the greatest men of his age, was buried, in accordance with his own express desire, without any outward ceremonial in a grave unmarked by tombstone or epitaph? Some have made him out to be a monster and a tyrant, a hater of his fellow men and a perverter of the truth—so much so that still today in certain religious circles his name is regarded with abhorrence. This judgment of Calvin cannot be reconciled with the facts of history, and it is a cause for satisfaction that our own age is increasingly coming to a more just appreciation of the true worth of this remarkable man.

Calvin was not the ruthless dictator of religion and morals of the republic of Geneva. The faith of the Reformation and a strict moral code had been formally adopted by civic rulers and people before Calvin arrived in their city; nor was it of his own will and design that he settled in their midst. In 1536, Calvin, then a young man of twenty-seven, spent a single night in Geneva en route to Strasbourg. He had no thought of lingering in Geneva, let alone spending the rest of his life there. Indeed, his clear ambition was to pass his days in scholarly retirement, untroubled by the problems that beset the man who is a public figure, writing the books he felt it was God’s will for him to write. But the fiery William Farel, to whom Calvin’s presence in Geneva had been reported, had other ideas. He sought out the young scholar in his inn and, when pleadings proved fruitless, uttered an imprecation that God would curse his scholarly retirement if he refused to stay and labor in Geneva, where his help was much needed. In this way Calvin’s purpose was turned, and he became bound to the city and people of Geneva.

But he never ceased to long for release from the demands and controversies of public life, though there was never anything perfunctory about his self-giving. “The welfare of this church,” he said of Geneva, “lay so near to my heart that for its sake I would not have hesitated to lay down my life.” In this spirit he served it, working incessantly for its well-being and progress, a natural leader because of his phenomenal powers of personality and intellect. Despite the handicap of physical frailty and almost unremitting ill health, he never spared himself but gave himself freely and fully to the service of God and his fellow men.

Calvin’s life is one of the outstanding examples in church history of the strength of God being made perfect through weakness. Each day of every other week he preached in Saint Pierre, and three times a week he lectured in theology. Far from abandoning his literary projects, he labored constantly with his pen, preparing his commentaries on the books of Holy Scripture, composing handbooks on Christian doctrine and treatises on important theological issues that were before the Church, and revising his Institutes. His other activities included corresponding with a host of persons of both noble and humble birth, known and unknown to him, in many lands; visiting the sick and those in trouble; making himself available to the stream of callers from far and near who sought him out; giving himself in wholehearted fellowship to his friends; instructing the clergy; guiding the affairs of the consistory; and willingly, when requested (remember that he had had a brilliant career in the law school of Paris prior to his conversion), allowing the civic leaders to benefit from the wisdom of his counsel—though, because of his clear conception of the distinct spheres of jurisdiction of church and state, he always did this in his capacity as a private person. Incidentally, some may be surprised to learn that this supposed tyrant did not even enjoy the privilege of citizenship during the greater part of his life in Geneva; this was not conferred on him until 1559, some five years before his death. Not only was his manner of living always unpretentious and frugal, but his whole life was one of single-minded devotion to the cause of Christ. At a time when he was severely weakened by sickness his friends pleaded with him to relax his labors and spare himself, but he replied: “What, would you have the Lord find me idle?”

Calvin’s compassion is seen in his tender devotion to his wife and his grief at her death in 1549, after ten years of happy married life together during which they had had the sorrow of burying their infant son; in his spontaneous love for his friends; and in his touching solicitude for fellow Christians who were suffering persecution for their faith in various places. At the same time, the forcefulness of his character is seen in his inflexibility of purpose when he discerned that the truth of the Gospel was at stake. He would rather die than dishonor Christ by compromising his Gospel. He hated controversy, but it was only God, never man, whom he feared. The extreme logicality of his mind led him at times to decisions and formulations that we might consider unduly harsh or rigorous, though we must beware of tearing him out of the context of his age. But the record of his achievement, as also of his personality, is there for all to study, and there can be only one verdict: that intellectually, spiritually, morally, and magisterially John Calvin has his place among the preeminent geniuses of the whole Christian era. And his influence did not die with him; on the contrary, it is greater today than it has ever been and shows every sign of becoming greater still.

There is something else to be said about this amazing man. Although his name is indelibly associated with the city of Geneva, his interest was by no means confined to the territory of Geneva. It is probably not generally realized to what an extent the Geneva of Calvin’s day was the hub of a wheel from which radiated the spokes of missionary activity. One of the outstanding characteristics of the Genevan church under Calvin was precisely its missionary-mindedness. This fact alone should silence the glib and oft-repeated assertion that Calvin’s theology spells death to evangelism and missionary activity. Geneva, it is true, became a refuge for many who were fleeing from the terrors of persecution, and this influx was a source of strength and enrichment to the church there. But that church was not content merely to receive and give shelter; it was intent on the advancement of the Gospel in territories far beyond its own limits. Accordingly, suitable men were constantly prepared for this vital ministry and sent out to preach and to teach the doctrine of Jesus Christ.

The men sent out were tried and trusted, and they were men of vision and courage; for this was no simple operation that they were undertaking, but one of the greatest hazardousness. The enemies of the Reformation were ruthless, and discovery might well mean (and in numerous cases did mean) torture and death. Not surprisingly, then, these messengers of the Gospel were sent out in secret, often covered by the cloak of an assumed name. On reaching their destination, after a journey by dangerous mountain tracks across the Alps, they ministered to those whom they could muster behind closed doors or in the shadows of the woods. The mission field to which these men were sent out comprised, in the main, France and Northern Italy; but in 1561 two pastors were sent as far afield as Brazil to serve among the members of a French expedition and to bring the Good News to the South American Indians. (That the venture proved abortive does not detract from its significance.) Thus year after year men were sent out from Geneva with their Bibles and their doctrine. The number of missions reached a peak of some 150 in 1561—a remarkable testimony to the outward-looking, unselfish effect of Calvin’s theology when it is properly understood.

John Calvin has much to say to us today. There is first of all the theological legacy he left us, which, thanks to the enterprise of publishers and translators, is readily accessible to all who wish to study it. Foremost in this is his Institutes of the Christian Religion, the finest systematic presentation of biblical theology in the history of the Christian Church. As for his commentaries on Holy Scripture, these should certainly not be neglected, 400 years old though they are; for they and the Institutes were intended to supplement each other, and with their sane explanation of the natural sense of the sacred text they form a landmark in the history of exposition. His other writings, too, will be found to be full of treasures. Through his writings, then, Calvin speaks to us and instructs us.

But again, the whole of Calvin’s life speaks powerfully to us today. How can we fail to be challenged by such a man? Indeed, a consideration of his life is likely not only to challenge us but also to cause us to blush with shame, for his ardor, his dedication, his singleness of purpose, which we regard as so phenomenal, should surely be characteristic of every follower of the Master. Calvin shows us what God can do with a single, frail servant who is willing to put aside personal preferences; to abandon the funk hole of religious respectability; to go, if need be, against the ecclesiastical tide; to denounce error; to proclaim the truth without apology and without ambiguity; to labor ceaselessly for Christ’s cause, regardless of personal cost; and to have but one ambition: the glory of God.

And Calvin challenges the Church of our day to repent of its introversion and to cease “playing it safe”; to return to its missionary task, which after all is its main task both at home and abroad; to be not merely a haven but also, in the power of the Holy Spirit, a dynamic centrifugal force penetrating with the message of life to the uttermost parts of the earth.

Finally, John Calvin says to us all as we lounge in the luxury of complacency and unconcern: “What, would you have the Lord find you idle?”

Premature Obituary

“Historically speaking, the age of the missionary is drawing to a close.” With this sentence C. L. Sulzberger began a recent New York Times column in which he assumed the imminent demise of the foreign missions movement. On the basis of missionary difficulties in Burma, India, and Africa, and quoting Prime Minister Milton Obote of Uganda (“White missionaries have done good work, but their era is finished”), Mr. Sulzberger concluded that the complex problems of emerging nations and the historic link between missions and colonialism have made the foreign missionary enterprise obsolete.

But this judgment is premature. That missionaries are now working under changing conditions is undeniable. The passing of colonialism has indeed affected those missions that at one time rode on its crest. Like every enterprise in which men are engaged, Christian missions have made mistakes. When school systems and hospitals have been built by government subsidies, problems have multiplied. Sometimes the headship of the missionary leader has tended to obscure the headship of Christ. There are problems of recruitment, although there are still missionaries eager to go to nations to which doors are now closed.

Yet the Great Commission still stands. Despite mounting opposition, there will always be Christians obedient to their Lord’s command to go and make disciples of all nations. While the Iron and Bamboo Curtains seem well-nigh impenetrable and while there may be hostility to missions among new nations, the gospel outreach is being pioneered in the jungles of Amazonia, in the hinterlands of New Guinea and Borneo, and in other areas where men have never heard the name of Christ. Missions are changing; die indigenous church is far more important than it was a generation ago. But the message and the commission continue unchanged and unchanging.

No, the missionary’s era is not over. It will continue until the consummation of the Kingdom at the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ. In the foreign missionary enterprise the Church moves forward; therefore no opposition, not even Communism or nationalism, shall prevail against it.

The Forgotten American

The United States’ unjust treatment of the American Indian is unfortunately not yet a matter of bygone history. The latest chapter is being considered in Congress, where a Senate-House conference committee is considering the Seneca Indian reparations bill. On October 1, the 700 members of the Seneca tribe in western New York must leave their homes as a result of government action that has taken a large part of their lands for the Kinzua water-storage project. The 1794 treaty, which was backed by George Washington, recognized these lands as belonging to the Senecas forever. But neither Congress nor the Supreme Court saw fit to uphold the treaty. The takeover was justified on grounds that the displaced persons would be granted generous reparations. The House accordingly approved a fund of $20.2 million for a reasonable program of rehabilitation that would include relocation, housing, educational and industrial projects.

But in the Senate, this fund was spectacularly slashed to $9.1 million. Seemingly topping the injury with insult, the upper house also approved an amendment “terminating” the relationship of the Seneca Nation to the United States.

We believe that the conference committee should accept the House version of the bill. Economy in government is exemplary, but not when it is at the expense of justice. The Indian vote is not a large one, and this has bred a certain callousness in handling the affairs of the “forgotten American.”

Senators should ponder well the $20 million our government awarded the Pennsylvania Railroad for twenty-eight miles of right-of-way acquired for this same water-storage project. And while considering economies, they may ponder as well the purpose of the House bill: to render the Senecas self-supporting, despite loss of their treaty-guaranteed lands. But over and above such considerations is the fact that congressional consideration of the fate of 700 people has become a crucible for American integrity.

Public Schools And De Facto Segregation

The Supreme Court did the sensible thing when it refused to review a decision of the Seventh Circuit Court of Appeals which ruled that children need not be transferred to schools across town to overcome the tie facto segregation in many cities that occurs because children attend their neighborhood school. The right of a child to go to a public school in his own neighborhood ought to be honored. To sacrifice this right in order to achieve an artificial pattern of school integration of checkerboard consistency is as much a violation of civil rights as it is illogical.

No child should be banned from any public school for reasons of color. This cuts both ways as does any just law. No Negro child living in a predominantly white neighborhood should be excluded from the neighborhood’s predominantly white school. For the same reason, neither should a white child be transported across town to attend school in a Negro neighborhood in order to overcome de facto neighborhood segregation.

Civil rights means equality before the law; it does not mean the mixture of races beyond the demands of the law. In the long run, only the removal of housing barriers will eliminate de facto segregation.

Francisco Lacueva: Nothing Sinister

Despite some misguided smoke-screening, a clearer view is now possible in the case of the vanishing ex-priest, Francisco Lacueva (see “Missing in Action,” CHRISTIANITY TODAY, News, March 27). Dark hints at skullduggery, made by an official of the evangelical society that employed Lacueva and publicly reiterated by the missing man’s twenty-three-year-old wife, have proved to be unfounded with the emergence of a more mundane explanation. “I was overworked and homesick,” he is reported to have said when finally traced to a Spanish Jesuit retreat in Tortosa. The latter destination can be connected with a visit he paid to a London Jesuit priest on the morning of his disappearance, but without the sinister interpretation put upon it. The English evangelical society concerned now announces that Mrs. Lacueva has joined her husband in Spain, and that he proposes to work there in collaboration with a Protestant pastor.

A peculiar responsibility attaches to those who undertake the rehabilitation of former Roman Catholic priests. A man transported suddenly from one world to another is particularly vulnerable. He is often assumed to be suitable for work for which he has in fact no natural aptitude, a fallacy perhaps encouraged by his own quite understandable eagerness to tell of the great change God has wrought in him. Even against the demands of Protestant propaganda a wise restraint may be prudent at first. This would guard against his becoming involved in meeting after meeting, particularly when (as in this present case) a necessarily incomplete grasp of Reformed doctrine is further complicated by a tenuous command of the English language.

Francisco Lacueva, newly converted after fourteen years as a theological professor in Spain, had barely arrived in England in 1962 when he was taken to an evangelical convention to witness before several thousand people. His name and his story became known. Thereafter the glare of constant publicity and the merciless pressure on his time and energies could not have contributed to an atmosphere in which a man could compose his soul. The cumulative effect was physical weariness and a confusion of mind that compelled him to get away from it all. Where else should he go but to his homeland? If English Jesuits encouraged him in this, would not we have done the same in their position?

Those of us who knew this man loved him and mourn the circumstances that have permanently inhibited his ministry in Britain—circumstances that may now, however, in the mercy of God, prove a blessing to the evangelical cause in Spain. At the same time one is left pondering whether it is not a dubious kindness and a dubious Christianity that hustle new converts from one public platform to the next before they have time to attain even a human adjustment.

The Church And The Mission Hospital

Is a ministry of mercy a legitimate part of the missionary work of the Church? Most would immediately ask, “Is this debatable?” Yet last month the General Assembly of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church debated the question whether or not to build a hospital in Eritrea (now Ethiopia).

In a minority report of the Committee on Foreign Missions, Dr. Meredith G. Kline wrote, “The precise question that requires study is whether there is biblical warrant for the church as church institution to administer the affairs of a medical establishment.…” He answered the question with an emphatic No. Christ’s healing miracles, which served as “attendant witnesses to divine revelation,” could not be adduced as an argument for medical missions or medical missionaries, Dr. Kline maintained. “On the contrary, those healings were such as to obviate the need for medical establishments,” he wrote. “The church finds itself in conflict with the most important principles of biblical ecclesiology as soon as it adopts the traditional approach to medical missions.…”

The Rev. Herbert Bird, an Orthodox Presbyterian missionary to Ethiopia, took issue with Dr. Kline in a biting rebuttal in which he said: “It is not written that when the leper sought cleansing, Jesus said to him, ‘I will now perform a special sign in this special period of redemptive history, serving as an attendant witness to divine revelation.…’ It is written, ‘And Jesus, moved with compassion, put forth his hand and touched him and said unto him, Be thou clean’.… If we should agree that official appointments to a ministry of mercy as part of missionary work are unwarranted, we really have no choice but to instruct the evangelist at Ghinda [Ethiopia] to cease and desist from such [medical] work.… Or if this should seem unrealistic, we may decide that the Orthodox Presbyterian Church should withdraw completely from the area, and send its missionaries to some less contaminated region, to some place where the pure preaching of the Word will not be complicated by the demands of human wretchedness.…”

As is reported elsewhere in this issue (page 36), the Orthodox Presbyterian Church, far from deciding to withdraw, agreed on a statement that medical missions are properly a work of the Church. It is going ahead with plans to build its hospital.

We cannot endorse this decision strongly enough. Evangelicals, who have deplored movements within the Protestant church that would have converted it into “a kind of literary and social club, devoted vaguely to good works,” as H. L. Mencken once wrote, have often tended in the direction of neglecting good works for fear of exposing themselves to the social gospel. The result is that those who have looked to the Church to do something, or at least say something, about social evils (need we remind ourselves that they are also moral evils?) have sometimes looked in vain in the direction of evangelicals. Yet that this need not be so is shown by the trend toward greater social concern among many evangelicals today.

It is incredible that in 1964 the matter of setting up a hospital under the auspices of a mission should be the subject of debate; but it is heartening that, in this case at least, the issue was faced and realistically settled.

Only A Beginning

The adoption of a self-imposed advertising code by the companies that manufacture 99 per cent of American cigarettes is at least a step in the right direction. The promise of the code to abandon the virility appeal may help deliver youth from the notion that they must smoke cigarettes to be adult. A similar promise not to associate cigarettes with health claims may make the manufacturers look more honest. No doubt it filtered through the industry’s prudence that the belated move to police itself might also forestall more severe regulations by the Federal Trade Commission and governmental health agencies. Yet the moral problem of the continued making and marketing of a product harmful to the consumer remains. The code in no way relieves government of its duty to keep on informing the public of the dangers of cigarettes to life and health. And it does not lessen the Christian obligation to judge and to react to the cigarette habit in the light of the stewardship of the body.

Theology

Decisions

Lying at the heart of man’s free moral nature is not only the right but also the necessity of making decisions. This attribute of man can be his glory, or it can be his undoing. How he decides many issues determines the present and the future, and even reaches forward into eternity.

Decisions cannot be evaded, for while one may think he is evading them he will find that, like his shadow, they remain until disposed of one way or the other.

True, many decisions can be postponed; but instead of being a solution, this inaction can lead to stagnation of life and futility of purpose.

All who travel our highways know that arriving at a crossroads, a driver must decide to take one road or the other. There are signs to indicate the destination of each, and the driver’s decision is made according to these signs.

In life there come times when we stand at a crossroads and must make a decision. Many decisions are trivial; their outcome is of little importance, and if they prove unwise they can be rectified. There is never a day that we are not confronted with the need to make such decisions: purchasing a hat, an article of furniture, this kind of food or that. Passing down the line in a cafeteria can be both interesting and confusing, for the choices are attractive and numerous.

But for all of us many decisions involve moral issues, what is right and what is wrong; and woe be it to the person whose conscience is so blunted that such matters do not stand out in bold relief—this is right, but that is wrong. In such matters, how we decide has a deep and lasting effect on our own lives, and often on the lives of others.

While many decisions have neither moral nor spiritual implications, there are many others where the issues of life pulsate deep anti strong.

The vital importance of making the right decision confronts every person and affects his life in a multitude of ways. At the forefront of all decisions is man’s answer to the question, “What will you do with Christ?” On it hinge life to come and, for this life, an understanding of spiritual and moral values on which conduct depends.

Once the decision is made to reject God, man has ventured out on a chartless sea in a rudderless ship. Having rejected the One who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, he lives, as Paul says, “without God and without hope in the world.”

But a decision for or against Christ is not the only one we face. One may truly accept Jesus as Saviour and Lord, but he still finds it necessary to make vital decisions day by day. There is a difference, however, for now there is an unseen Guide, the Holy Spirit, and a Book that comes alive as it unfolds the clear and sure way God has purposed for our lives.

For the Christian there are decisions having to do with personal habits, relations with others, honesty and dishonesty, truth and error—all of which can be resolved only if Christ is taken both as Lord and as Guide of life.

Parents must make a multitude of decisions for their children. We live in a world and in a time when young lives need to be guided in the way of righteousness even before they come to the age of responsibility. Happy is the child who, as he enters more mature years, can look back on the words and example of godly parents who, by the Holy Spirit, brought him up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. Happy the child who can look back in memory to a home where God, his Word, and the family altar were given a central place.

For young people, decisions come in a crescendo of pressures from which there is no escape, and on these decisions rest true happiness and peace. The exuberance of youth may be a temporary façade against the hard realities of life; still there is found a longing that can never be satisfied until right decisions are made.

In our time the clear distinctions between good and evil have been blurred by compromise, doubt, and outright rejection. Relativism has supplanted the absolutes to be found in God’s holy laws, and young people are confronted on every hand by adults who by word of mouth and precept of life do not know God and give no heed to the divine revelation.

Today even in the highest echelons of national life men affirm that right and wrong, good and evil, are so relative that decisions must be based on the commonly accepted mores of the current social order and not on the holiness and truth of that which God has ordained.

At this very point, one of the most important of all decisions must be made: “Shall I follow men, influential men, powerful men, educated men, or shall I follow Christ and his way?”

Those decisions having to do with eternity are based on an understanding of the nature of man and the love of a holy God. The decision to take Christ as Saviour and Lord must come from a deep sense of human need. Few of us like to admit that we are born spiritually dead, but this is the case. Few of us like to face up to the necessity that Jesus affirmed: “Ye must be born again.”

But it is a realization of spiritual needs that brings with it a joyous acceptance of the fact that God has done something about human need in the Person and Work of his Son. Once this decision is made, there opens up the dazzling realization that Christ meets every need, not only now but for all eternity. Unregenerate man’s sense of futility and frustration stems from an undirected present and an uncertain future. The Christian’s serenity stems from the One in whom he has trusted and the glorious future that he knows is his. Like Paul he can say, “I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able.”

God has made provision, not only for our salvation, but also for daily living. That many Christians live like spiritual beggars is their fault, not God’s. That many Christians grope their way when they should be walking in the clear light of God’s purposes is due to their failure to avail themselves of God’s loving provision for them.

Our Lord spoke of the “necessity” of returning to heaven, that he might send the Holy Spirit into the world to live in the hearts of men and guide them in his way. But we neglect God the Holy Spirit and in so doing forfeit both peace and help.

God has given us his Word, the sword of the Spirit; our ignorance of the Bible compounds our problems, for there the way of the Christian is charted.

God has given to us the privilege and power of prayer, but we neglect this two-way communication and walk by the feeble glimmer of human understanding rather than by the light of the One who is the Light of the world.

Decisions? Yes. The right of choice? Yes. And with that right God holds us responsible for how we choose.

When secondary considerations influence our decisions, the outcome can be disastrous. Eternal destiny is determined by conscious decision.

Eutychus and His Kin: May 22, 1964

PLATITUDES, NEW AND OLD

I think it is Look magazine that has part of a page designated “for women only,” which, of course, is the best way in the world to get the men to read it. I am more serious. What follows is for preachers only, and I hope the laymen will turn their heads to one side and maybe drop them just a little in shame.

Let me quote from a very observant dean of women back from a convention. She asked me if I knew Dr. So-and-So, a man of considerable fame across the Church, and I said I did. “It was a funny thing,” she said. “I knew he was in the crowd long before I saw him. Like any great preacher he was laughing louder and just a little bit sooner than everybody else. And he had something to say on every single topic.”

What an awful thing to say—especially since it has so much truth in it. Preachers get so used to having people listen to them that they begin to think everything they say is worth listening to. And if anybody wants to succeed in the profession, he has to try very hard to laugh heartily.

In a restaurant recently I was within earshot of a table filled with ladies and one preacher replete with rosy cheeks and a backwards collar. He was sounding off, primarily on psychology (you can’t make it today if you can’t make the right sounds on psychology). He tickled me with his entering ploy, “I do not pretend to be acquainted in this area,” after which he went on in the area to show how smart he was.

Everyone is picking up the lingo from the operating room now, too—“she had surgery,” “she went into surgery,” and the like. If these words are said with proper mien, a great deal of wisdom accumulates around the speaker. (Did you hear about the doctor who flunked his TV test and had to become a general practitioner?) Everybody has “violent” headaches or is “under” psychiatric care, and soon the effort to be different ends up in the platitudinous.

If you will excuse me now, I have just been co-opted to an ad hoc committee.

EUTYCHUS II

LINCOLN CALLED IT BONDAGE

Thank you for the excellent editorial in the April 24 issue entitled “Abstinence Makes Sense,” as indeed it does when presented with the objectivity, simplicity, and candor with which you wrote.

It is sad, by contrast, to find the subject so casually dealt with if not completely ignored by other church publications which profess great concern for human welfare and for the social applications of the Gospel. And there is a bit of grim humor in the fact that the same social actionists who, alluding to alcohol, insist that “You can’t legislate morals!” are in the thick of the fight to legislate racial justice. Personally I think we should, as Christian citizens, be doing just that. It is the inconsistent timorousness about our Christian responsibility in the matter of alcohol which makes one wonder, and mourn.

Perhaps your editorial will help to rid us of our embarrassment and to get us back into the struggle to liberate literally millions of God’s children from what Abraham Lincoln called a bondage worse than (Negro) slavery. It would be a pity if the Church were unable to summon the courage and the common sense to become involved again, until as in the case of cigarettes the medical profession should make our concern “respectable.” The case against alcohol is so much more serious, and obvious, for anyone who will come at it with the frankness which your editorial displays.

JOHN M. GORDON

First Presbyterian Church

Yakima, Wash.

With a specious claim that things are different now you ignore the biblical message of temperance and substitute your own of abstinence. Men have been suffering from the ill effects of alcohol since the dawn of recorded history. The scriptural position fully recognizes this evil. Yet the solution is temperance. Man is to enjoy the fruit of the earth. But it is easier to say abstain from all enjoyment thereof than risk excess indulgence. Likewise it is easier to conceive of Jesus as God or as man rather than as “very God and very man.” But it is not scriptural. On the matter of drinking, unwilling to follow Scripture, you ignore it as inadequate and unworkable and seek to impose upon it what you think is an improvement.

Thus your “reasonable and safe solution” “to the glory of God” is not a Christian solution (which would be along the lines of a biblical treatment of temperance) and is unworthy of you and your magazine. North Hills, Pa.

DAVID C. LACHMAN

A very effective presentation of this subject and one which many people should read.…

LEWIS C. BERGER

State Superintendent

The Temperance League of Ohio, Inc.

Columbus, Ohio

There is one fact … that we should not overlook in dealing with humanity: man has a colossal resistance to the truth. People know better than they do. This is true of all of us.

It seems to be an inborn nature that causes us to put up such a terrific resistance to the entrance of the truth into our minds. You can tell people about the danger of dope and drink and cigarettes, and yet they will keep on using them.

There is plenty of good advice in the world to save the world. There are enough sermons preached each year to convert the whole world. But little heed is often paid to this good advice. If truth is palatable, we swallow it, but if it interferes with our pleasure, we ignore it.… As Abraham Lincoln put it, “Liquor has many defenders, but no defense.” The truth is on the other side.…

ROBERT L. ROBERTS

McKinley Park Presbyterian Church

Pittsburgh, Pa.

It is one of the most concise statements of the “drink” question from all angles that I have seen.…

H. L. WOODWARD

Costa Mesa, Calif.

WELL ANYWAY, WE’RE EDUCATED

Ignorance of basic Mormon concepts is not confined to the uneducated. A case in point is your report on the religious exhibits of the World’s Fair (News, Apr. 24 issue), where it is stated that the Latter-day Saint pavilion features a replica “of the Mormon Tabernacle in Salt Lake City.”

For a church which recently passed the two-million mark, there are thousands of meeting houses, of which the Salt Lake City tabernacle is one. What the pavilion features, however, is the Salt Lake Temple. There are but twelve temples in operation, where special ceremonies, including the scriptural baptism for the dead, take place.

RICHARD L. ANDERSON

Prof. of History and Religion

Brigham Young University

Provo, Utah

ON LIBERALISM

I belong to the “one in seven” that hastens to point out a grievous fault in Roberson’s article (Apr. 24 issue) on the decline of “liberalism.” Never once does he tell us what he is talking about. He does not say whether he means the extreme humanism of Unitarians who refuse to be classed as Christians, or whether he means the eloquent and convincing statements of Harry Emerson Fosdick, minister to all America for a generation. There is all the difference in the world!

Both Roberson’s article and your editorial on it are far too complacent and optimistic about the take-over by “evangelical Christianity,” so-called. I do not get this impression at all. The exceptional response to Bishop Robinson’s Honest to God (whose premises I do not accept) does not warrant your complacent conclusions.

The recent death of John Haynes Holmes reminds us that the religious movement in the past fifty years that has produced great hymns has been the liberal faith—not orthodoxy, neo or otherwise. Whether you can sing your religion or not is a pretty sound test of its validity. The truly great hymns of recent times have not been inspired by evangelical Christianity.…

CLARENCE F. AVEY

First Methodist

Westfield, Mass.

The best down-to-earth, pulpit-to-pew analysis of liberalism ever printed—reflective, challenging, short, and thought-provoking.

WM. A. LAWRENCE

Altura Presbyterian

El Paso, Tex.

I enjoy your magazine, but I sometimes wonder what would happen to it if there were suddenly no more liberals. The one thing that will continue to give survival to liberals is the sweetness of being able to read their books and articles without any reference to what they are against.

Jesus fought the Pharisees. But today’s liberals hardly fit into their shoes. If the liberals are wrong (and I’m sure they are as we all are in so many places), then let us as conservative Christians go deeper into the Word and truth to satisfy the craving minds of today, rather than throw stones at those who are at least giving an appearance of trying to do this very thing.

BILL NICHOLS

First Baptist Church

Alton, Mo.

LOGIC

It is interesting to note that in his comments on Mr. Daane’s article Mr. Lewis (Eutychus, Apr. 24 issue) follows his unbelieving predecessors in fulfilling Scripture while attempting to overthrow the Truth.

He says, “Why a loving God and father should demand such a bloody and cruel sacrifice of his only child, remains to me incomprehensible.”

The Scripture says, “We preach Christ crucified, unto the Jews a stumblingblock … but he that believeth on him shall not be confounded”.…

It is only the disobedience of unbelief which turns history into “pure fiction” and the love of God into a piece of “incomprehensible” ill logic. But if Mr. Lewis is disposed to solve religious problems by means of unbelieving logic, let him try to understand how the author of a so-called “violent anti-Semitic article” can put his ultimate faith and love in a crucified Jew.

PAUL H. SEELY

Philadelphia. Pa.

WE’RE GLAD TOO

Yesterday my first copy of CHRISTIANITY TODAY arrived, dated April 10. To my way of thinking, if all the pages had been blank except the one on which is found Portia Martin’s poem, “Like As the Hart,” I still would have gotten a good bargain! Poetry of this caliber is not easy to come by.…

Glad, incidentally, that the rest of the pages were not blank!

R. OTIS NICHOLSON

First Baptist Church

Vallejo, Calif.

BIRMINGHAM

I … must write to chide your eager reporter about his write-up of the recent Billy Graham meeting in Birmingham (News, Apr. 24 issue). Or maybe I should compliment the man.

The burr that sticks is his reference to the Negro people being bombed often by their white (Birmingham) neighbors. Does the reporter know for sure that the bombers were (1) white? or (2) residents of Birmingham? If he does, he knows who they are. I have quite a few kin in Birmingham who would not mind at all if the reporter would turn the names over to the local police and to the FBI, who really need the help.

You may have noted that the bomber recently convicted in Florida was not from the South at all; as 1 recall, he was from Indiana.

HAL D. BENNETT

Baptist Bible Institute

Graceville, Fla.

A CASE OF IDENTITY

My report on “Open Grave” (News, Apr. 10 issue) referred to a book as The Brook Kidron. The book I really meant was The Brook Kerith, by George Moore.

GRACE IRWIN

Toronto, Ont.

SDA

Comments contained in Chaplain Escobar’s letter (Mar. 27 issue) concerning Dr. Lindsell’s review of The Four Major Cults, by Dr. Hoekema, most certainly call for a rebuttal!

Is it true that Seventh-day Adventist theology is in “essential agreement” with evangelicals on the doctrines as noted by Chaplain Escobar?…

Would evangelicals subscribe to an article appearing in the Review and Herald (May 11, 1961, issue) authored by R. R. Figuhr, president of the General Conference, entitled “God’s Best Gift to His Church Today”—the “Best Gift”? Mrs. Ellen G. White? Is our Lord Jesus Christ dethroned?…

The new birth, SDA-interpretation, is lawkeeping, in the final analysis meaning Sabbath-keeping. “… and they hallow His Sabbath. In this act they identify themselves with God’s power to create and recreate in His likeness” (Dimensions in Salvation, W. R. Beach). From another Review and Herald publication: “… the Sabbath … is God’s own appointed sign of redemption and sanctification … the symbol of the new birth …” (God Speaks to Modern Man, Arthur E. Lickey, p. 419). “… this faith in Christ … the mark of this faith will be a meaningful observance of the seventh-day Sabbath” (“The Mark of God’s True People,” Review and Herald, Aug. 9, 1962).

The Sabbath is even substituted for the Blood! And I quote with the minimum of ellipses, for emphasis;

“But that the Sabbath is inseparable from the sealing work is clear.… A mark is placed upon every one of God’s people just as verily as a mark was placed over the doors of the Hebrew dwellings, to preserve the people from the general ruin. God declares, ‘I gave them my Sabbaths.…’ … what is the seal of the living God, which is placed in the foreheads of His people? It is a mark which angels, but not human eyes, can read; for the destroying angel must see this mark of redemption.… Those who would have the seal of God in their foreheads must keep the Sabbath of the fourth commandment …” (Review and Herald, Aug. 10, 1961, p. 9).

Do SDAs really believe in the authority of God’s Word as evangelicals do? This most surely bears scrutiny. An editorial in the Review and Herald, April 27, 1961, p. 3, admonishes: “Brethren and sisters, God has demonstrated His love for the church by placing in its midst the prophetic gift [Mrs. E. G. White]. If we prize the counsel given, we shall be protected against the wiles of the enemy.… Let us read these inspired writings, walk in the precious light revealed in them, and encourage others to rest their faith on a ‘Thus saith the Lord.’ ” Likewise, it is asked “If we neglect these books [Mrs. White’s testimonies] how can we be saved?” (Review and Herald, Sept. 27, 1962)!

As Dr. Hoekema has stated concerning the cults, they have “a ‘Bible in the left hand’ which actually supersedes the Bible in the right hand” (The Four Major Cults, p. 378). Anyone with even a casual acquaintance with SDA theology is all too aware of the exalted place Mrs. White and her “inspired” (to SDAs) writings hold within the very structure of SDAism. Seventh-day Adventism emphatically states; “No church without this gift [Mrs. E. G. White] could rightly claim to be God’s true church” (Review and Herald, Dec. 10, 1959).

MARY LYONS

West New York, N. J.

We believe that Jesus Christ is supreme and the “best gift to His church.” Certainly Mrs. White is not made to dethrone the Lord Jesus Christ.…

ARTHUR J. ESCOBAR

Chaplain

Pacific Union College

Angwin, Calif.

PERSECUTION REVERSED

I can understand how it happened, but your news story headed “Persecution: Twentieth-Century Style” in the April 10 issue rests upon unfounded assumptions. I have no evidence at all, save the press report of a troubled student’s statement to police, that the young people who recently tormented my family were in fact motivated by religious prejudice.

Even if so, it should not be called persecution, for that is a vice reserved for persons in authority. Students cannot “persecute” professors, though some of mine would testify that at examination time, anyhow, it works the other way.

This is a people’s university, a great one, and a free one, open to persons of every religious belief and none. I have not, therefore, ever uttered a word of prayer in classes here. Courtesy would forbid it, even if the law does not.

If Christianity fails to thrive in free institutions, the fault will lie with Christians. I think, not with freedom.

TIMOTHY L. SMITH

Assoc. Prof. of History and Education

University of Minnesota

Minneapolis, Minn.

ENLARGE THE VISION

On the back page of your March 13 issue … another translation of the New Testament in English was introduced. The English-speaking peoples are benefiting greatly from the many Bible scholars who are devoting years of labor to produce readable and understandable translations of God’s Word for this generation.…

As missionary organizations advance into unreached areas, additional unknown languages are found. The many translations in English have contributed greatly to the understanding of God’s message in this generation. They have also been a great help to those who are doing Bible translation in other languages. Now, however, I think it is time that Christian scholarship enlarge its vision and put a missionary emphasis on translation.

Even though it would not be possible for most New Testament scholars to go prepare a translation for one of these linguistic groups, I do believe that some of them could make a valuable contribution to this translation program. They could prepare helps for those doing the translation.

Good commentaries on the books of the New Testament continue to be published, but these commentaries do not answer many of the problems raised when translating the New Testament into non-Indo-European languages. Each language has its own set of grammatical and lexical requirements that demand the translator to render explicit many things which are only implied in the New Testament. These present a real problem.

These scholars could make an invaluable contribution if they would familiarize themselves with the problems associated with this type of Bible translation and then write commentaries directed to these problems. I am sure the benefits would be many. They would not only be contributing to a badly needed field; but their own understanding would be extended since they would be forced to answer questions never before proposed. The layman, pastor, and theologian could also benefit from these publications.

JOHN R. ALSOP

Wycliffe Bible Translators

Hidalgo, Mexico

Theology

Toward a Theology of Proclamation

The words of the woman to Elijah when he had brought her child back to life give proper focus to the minister’s calling and task. She said, “Now I know that you are a man of God, and that the word of the Lord in your mouth is the truth” (1 Ki. 17:24). The woman has put in one summary sentence the “Who” and the “What” of the minister: he is to be a man of God, and he is to speak the Word of the Lord.

Luther became so accustomed to thinking of the sermon as the medium of God’s proclamation that he called the sermon the “Word of God.” This is an identification we should desire, so that in every sermon it is clear that God’s Word is spoken.

A theology of proclamation must be grounded in Scripture because biblically speaking preaching is “a continuation of the Bible, of God’s Word” (Gustaf Wingren, The Living Word, trans. by Victor C. Pogue, Philadelphia: Muhlenberg Press, pp. 70, 71). When we ponder this meaning of our place as ministers, there is room only for humility. Who are we, that God has called us to proclaim his Word? Preaching and teaching are linked in many ways, but preaching has primacy over teaching as God’s call has primacy over man’s understanding.

Gustaf Wingren states that “if … preaching does not contain the Word of the Gospel, if it is not the message about God’s acts, but just talk about ‘Christianity’ … then it may well be asked whether it is really preaching at all. The important question is not whether there is a passage [of Scripture] as the starting point but whether what the preacher says as a whole is a Kerygma or not.”

No doubt all of us ministers can remember times when we came from the pulpit feeling that in the sermon there was true proclamation, but no one indicated that God had spoken his Word to him. On the other hand, there have also been times when upon leaving the pulpit we wished with Jeremiah for a wayfarer’s lodging place in some desert (Jer. 9:2), but at the close of the service someone said that God spoke to Page him through the sermon. God is able to speak his Word in spite of us as well as because of us.

When the congregation has gathered and the preacher comes to the pulpit, he comes with one purpose: to bring about an encounter between the people and the Word of God. God does will to make an impact upon our day, and it is the glory of preaching that he will make this impact through the proclamation of his Word.

We live between the times: between God’s decisive victory on the Cross and the final consummation. Irenaeus and Luther both regarded the time between the Ascension and the Parousia as the time of proclamation. Proclamation bespeaks the end, and “preaching is the link between Christ’s resurrection and our own.”

All creatures other than man have been created by the Word of God. Man has been created for the Word. God has created man to hear and to respond in obedience to his Word.

The problem of preaching is often the preacher. We can well shudder to think of the many times when God has sought to speak his Word to his people, but the preacher was more concerned about himself than about God’s speaking his Word to his people. Instead of recounting and proclaiming the mighty acts of God, the preacher kept himself in the center.

Professor Barclay relates that on one occasion when Toscanini was rehearsing his orchestra to play a Beethoven symphony, he said, “Gentlemen, I am nothing; you are nothing; Beethoven is everything.” The great conductor was concerned that he and the orchestra not hinder Beethoven from coming through. We need to remember that it is not the preacher who preaches; it is the Holy Spirit who proclaims God’s Word in the words of the preacher.

A young man related that he made his decision to enter the ministry during a chapel service in school. Asked what preacher spoke in the service, he replied, “I have no idea; I only know that Jesus Christ spoke to me that morning.” That was true proclamation.

Men Of The Book

We must live with the Scriptures; if we are faithful Christians, we will be men of one Book as well as of many books. Refreshing winds are blowing today in biblical studies, and our ministry will be seriously impoverished if we do not set our sails in this direction. We must spend hours in prayer and in serious study of the Scriptures. This one thing is needed; without it we fail to do that to which we have been called. The Bible is the basis and condition of all authentic preaching.

Dr. Albert Outler tells of a visit King Charles XII made to a small village church in Sweden in 1716. The king arrived unexpectedly, and the pastor was so overwhelmed that he put aside his sermon and gave a message of praise on the royal family. Some months later the church received as a gift from King Charles a crucifix, with the instructions: “This is to hang on the pillar opposite the pulpit so that all who stand there will be reminded of their proper subject.” When the preacher ceases to proclaim what God has done for man in Christ on the Cross, he ceases to preach. Through the work and witness of the Holy Spirit God will make himself known in proclamation.

Alexander Whyte preached with the mantle of inspiration in his Edinburgh church one morning. Following the service a worshiper said to him, “You preached as if you came straight from the audience chamber with God.” Prayer may be the most difficult part of proclamation. It is so easy for the preacher to stand in the position of the rich man in the twelfth chapter of Luke, who felt that he was sufficient with the things he possessed. The preacher is never sufficient within himself. No matter how thorough his exegesis, he must rely upon the Holy Spirit. He may have his sermon on paper and in his head, but “it can become a mighty deliverance of God’s Word only through the gift of God’s Spirit—and for that he must constantly make renewed entreaty. This waiting and hoping, this dependence on God’s free intervention, is always burdensome and vexing for man” (Emil Brunner, The Divine-Human Encounter, p. 25).

The Mission Of The Word

The one aim of preaching is “that Christ may come to those who have assembled to listen.” Paul expresses the mission of the Word as he writes to the Colossians: “He has delivered us from the dominion of darkness and transferred us to the Kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins” (Col. 1:13, 14). It is in the light of the Word that man sees his darkness. The Word comes not only to reveal man’s sin but to set him free from the power of sin and bring him under the Lordship of Christ.

The presence of the Word is the relevance of the Word. When God’s Word strikes the hearer in a tender spot, when it burns into his situation and smites his conscience, there is no doubt about its relevance. Christian social concerns spring from decisive encounters with the Word.

In saying that “only the doer of the Word is its real hearer,” Karl Barth covers the ministry as well as the congregation. Paul knew there was no merit in preaching when he wrote, “… lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway” (1 Cor. 9:27).

Remember the words of the woman to Elijah, “Now I know that you are a man of God.” True eloquence comes from living in Christianity. We speak out of the faith, that those outside the faith may hear and respond to the Word. Kierkegaard said, “He who is to preach ought to live in the thoughts and conceptions of Christianity—this should be his daily life” (For Self-Examination and Judge For Yourselves! trans. by Walter Lowrie, London: Oxford Press, p. 36).

The Word we proclaim must be lived out in our own lives, or we will become castaways. The Word of judgment we proclaim to the people encompasses the pulpit as well as the pew. We too are judged by the Word. The true response to the Word is not, “Let’s talk it over,” but obedience.

Aubrey Alsobrook is minister of the Asbury Memorial Methodist Church of Savannah, Georgia. He holds the B.Ph. and B.D. from Emory University and the Ph.D. from Drew University. He contributes a bimonthly column to the “Wesleyan Christian Advocate.”

‘Younger Churches’ in Conflict

The termination of colonial rule in Africa and. Asia has left the liberated new countries in a confused and confusing situation. The ideological argument that these countries used in their fight for independence was basically the same everywhere. Ever since President Wilson proclaimed that every nation had a right to be independent, colonial rule could no longer be continued merely on the basis of the Western powers’ military and economic superiority. In a world in which the very foundation of international law had been destroyed by the reckless disregard for it shown by the belligerent powers in World War I, Wilson’s principle seemed to be the promising beginning of a new world order based upon reason and nature. There was only one way whereby the colonial powers could justify continuation of their regime: to contend that the nations under their tutelage were not yet sufficiently developed to lead a sovereign existence in the commonwealth of nations. And this argument was losing strength increasingly as young men from the colonies came to attend the colleges and universities of the West and returned home with the splendor of academic degrees. Between the world wars they established themselves as the political leaders of their countries. Through them the demands for national freedom became articulate. It was this group of intellectuals, an infinitesimal fraction of their various nations, who would claim that their academic training enabled them to take the place of the colonial administrators. While Western nations thought the capability for self-rule lay in a very distant future, these native leaders claimed that the goal had been reached.

The difficulties that the colonial powers experienced have led to a paradoxical result. With a few exceptions, all the nations of Asia and Africa that had been under foreign rule now enjoy sovereignty. Yet at the same time they are treated by the Western powers as “undeveloped” and “underdeveloped” countries. The new nations recognize this fact by applying to the United Nations, the World Bank, and other agencies for economic, cultural, and military support. Their leaders have to admit that their education, no matter how brilliant, has not yet reached the masses. There is a wide gap between a Ph.D. degree and the ability to build a modern economy and a democratic state.

In this painful and vexing predicament, the leaders of the “young nations” find it difficult to hold their own. In the modern world no country can prosper unless it adopts modern technology and scientific methods, and this in turn requires a universal education, such as that which the West has developed. Not only has none of the “liberated” countries reached that level yet; even the most advanced of them, such as Nigeria and India, are far from being able to vie with the industrial countries of Europe or the United States. Pathetically, their vitality and the resulting high birth rate tend to widen the gap between needs and accomplishments. No wonder that Sr. Galvao, who not long ago had attempted an insurrection in Portuguese Angola, could recently state before the Trusteeship Committee of the United Nations that in his opinion Angola was not yet prepared for self-government. The furor of the African delegates to the United Nations should surprise no one. They sensed that Sr. Galvao’s argument implied a condemnation of the whole African experiment.

In order to forestall an international development of momentous consequences for the new countries, their leaders have shifted their argument. The independence they claim is, in the first place, founded not upon their ability to govern themselves but rather upon their “racial” or ethnic character. Hitler’s advocacy of Germanity (Deutschtum) has now its counterpart in Africanity or in Arabism, as far as Africa is concerned; and in a similar way the liberated countries of Southeast Asia are emphasizing their determination to live in accordance with their “national” or ethnic particularity. For this reason they do not want to be governed by nations belonging to another “race,” and they resent any meddling of the foreign powers in African or Asian affairs. Anybody who meets the natives of Africa or Asia realizes the uneasiness his very presence creates.

As a result, life in the new countries witnesses to strange crosscurrents. On the one hand, the leadership is craving for a share in Western education and Western technology. While with the masses the image of leadership may still be associated with that of native chieftains or princes, the new group of leaders instinctively recognize that it was the Western type of administration that lifted their country up to the level at which it could participate in world affairs. Thus they are proud of their academic degrees and are anxious to adopt the Western style of life.

Yet the recent developments in Africa and Asia would be completely misunderstood if the tendency toward Westernization were interpreted as wholly dominating the younger nations. The eagerness with which they accept the help of the American Peace Corps, the German Volunteers, or the scholarships at the Lumumba University of Moscow too easily hides from the observer their wish to intensify the specifically African, Arabic, or Asian features of their national life. The fight for independence and the new pride of a sovereignty finally gained have vitalized the desire for indigenization. Of course, to implement this tendency is not easy. In North Africa and the Near East, the goal is seen in a renewed Islam. This movement, whose center is Cairo, could resort to a historical heritage. In Southeast Asia, a revitalized Buddhism seems to serve as the medium through which the “ethnic” aspirations can be expressed. The situation is more difficult in Africa south of the Sahara, where the native population lacks historical recollections and the culture has not yet reached a high level. Perhaps the indigenous character will first become articulate in music.

Missionaries And Westernizing

Judging the work of the Protestant missionaries in Africa and Asia in its relation to present cultural tendencies, one can say that with a few minor exceptions they have Westernized the people to whom they announced the Gospel. The school would invariably be joined to the chapel in order to enable converts to study the Bible and Christian literature. It was probably inevitable that both curriculum and method in the mission school would be similar to what had been used in the training of the missionaries. Similarly, the gospel message itself in its Protestant presentation would reflect the experience and mentality of Northern Europe. The same observation holds good for the way of life the missionaries taught. They had to reckon with the fact that practically the whole daily life of the converts had originally been molded by their pagan religion, and would therefore insist that the separation from the former practices be as complete as possible. As an alternative, the missionary would point out the way in which he had been brought up, that is to say, a Christian way tinged in every respect by the outlook and the needs of the West. Often a native in East or South Africa will put off his native costume and don Western dress when he presents himself for baptism.

There is no good reason to blame the missionaries for doing this. Their methods reflected the rationalistic-humanistic identification of Western man with the true man, a view that has dominated the Western world since the eighteenth century. Similarly, when the missionaries started to train a native clergy they offered a modified version of the seminary training that they themselves had received. One should not marvel at the young native’s desire to go to a European university or to an American seminary. Did he not see daily the authority and the social standing that a degree from these institutions conferred upon its holder? No wonder that the native pastors insist the African seminaries should adopt the curriculum of the outstanding Western institutions, and that their level of scholarship should match that of the sending churches. The new impetus that the Theological Education Fund has given to the training of native ministers has greatly fostered this tendency. At the request of the indigenous clergy and against the advice of the European instructors, one recently established model institution has made Greek and Hebrew graduation requirements for the B.D. degree. The reason: that is what Princeton does! It is easy to see how the young African, who in addition to his tribal language has to master successively Bulu, French, and English, will spend a disproportionate amount of his time learning Greek and Hebrew.

The urge toward Westernization is counterbalanced, however, by the need for indigenization. The African or Asian minister, much more than the missionary, is aware of the strangeness that the traditional presentation of the Gospel carries with it. For some time a change has been taking place in church architecture. The Gothic or classicistic building that the missionary had erected in loving memory of his home sanctuary stands out as an alien in the African bush or in the jungle of Thailand. It is impossible, of course, to adjust the architecture of the pagoda to Christian purposes, because its structural elements and ornaments are filled with pagan symbolism. But ways have been found to adapt a church building to secular architecture while adding a note of indigenous grandeur or simplicity.

Church architecture is not a central problem in the younger churches, however. More important for the native minister is the adaptation of the saving message to the mentality of the natives. The revival of the indigenous religions on the one hand and the very active propaganda of Islam on the other have rendered this task more urgent than it was in the past generations. Like those religions, the Gospel has to be offered as a worthwhile way of life rather than as a theology. While any kind of syncretism is out of the question, the African and Asian Christians must be made to feel that their religion satisfies a need in their lives.

A leading Zulu pastor summed up the void that the missionary work had left in native civilization by stating that Christianity had taken the joy out of their lives. This was hardly an effect that the missionaries had intended. But equally interesting is the fact that they had not noticed it. African life follows the phases and seasons of agricultural life and the stages in the growth and development of the individual. Each occasion is accompanied by celebrations that include dancing, singing, and festive meals. With the animistic character of African religion, each of these feasts includes some pagan elements. No wonder that the missionaries insisted that Christians keep away from them. But this stern discipline cut the native Christian off from the most exciting and enjoyable part of village life and dried up the source of his most natural happiness.

Bringing Back The Joy

Gradually, native churches in Africa began to react against this impoverishment of indigenous life. Most promising is the endeavor to substitute African music for the Western tunes that the missionary imported from his home circle and denomination. The White Fathers have established an Institute of Church Music in the Congo that is probably the most advanced pioneer in this field. But the experimenting goes on all over Africa, and African and Asian students at the Westminster Choir College in Princeton, New Jersey, are encouraged to modify the traditional hymn tunes so as to make them suit African rhythm and harmony. Hesitantly the native churches of Africa also try to introduce Christian feasts. Leadership lies with the rural congregations. Just as the missionary was not aware of the impoverishment that resulted from his strict church discipline because he had literature, art, music, and social life that compensated for the moral rigor, so the African town congregation has succeeded in finding joy of life in the urban civilization. But the village church begins to celebrate the relevant events in daily life in its own way. The forms, though adjusted to African life, are compatible with Christian standards.

The most remarkable force in indigenizing Christianity is the numberless cults. The only help the pagan African knew against the many hidden forces and spirits that disturbed and threatened his life was the medicine man, a person presumed to have spiritual power that enabled him to discover the source of trouble and to curb it. Conversion to Christianity does not mean that this belief is discarded; it lingers on for generations. No wonder that Africans are looking for a type of ministry that gives evidence of spiritual power. The result is thousands of small congregations not affiliated with the organized churches but rather formed around people who manifest their spiritual power in ways that combine Christian and indigenous features. The missionaries came from denominations in which the specific character of Christianity had become articulate in some kind of theology. But theology is the result of a typically Western attitude. It rests upon the belief that the nature and the work of God can be apprehended in a rational way. All the prerequisites of such an understanding of the Christian faith are lacking in Africa. Inasmuch as theology is accepted, it is in the pursuit of Western ideals. Where the Christian religion has entered into the life of the people, it manifests itself in charismatic enthusiastic meetings in whose center the Spirit-powered leader stands.

In Asia, the situation is different. While the people to whom the Gospel was first brought in India, China, or Korea may have belonged to the lower classes, the Christian message nevertheless entered there into a world that has an ancient civilization. It is not surprising, therefore, that the theological type of Christianity should appeal to these people. But in Asia, too, the renaissance of nationalism and of Buddhism has raised new problems. The type of organized fellowship characteristic of Western Protestantism is an alien element in the Far East. The National Church of Japan (Kyodan) was forced upon the numerous denominations during the last war by the Japanese government. But the fact that it does not grow numerically is paradoxically due in the first place to the developed state of its theology. The ministers are preoccupied with academic theology, and thus with the theoretical problems of the West rather than with the spiritual needs of the Japanese people.

Much more in keeping with the Japanese character is the No-Church movement, which received its impetus from Kanzo Uchimura (1861–1930). Its approximately 200 groups are engaged in efforts to understand what the Bible message means for one’s personal life. There is no strict organization; each group consists of a leader and from 50 to 200 people who meet with him regularly. Some of the pioneers of this movement were masters of literary style and poets who tried to wed the genius of Japanese mentality with the Word of God. But the movement now seems to be in a state of stagnation.

A Protestant ‘Third Force’

A considerable step further in the process of indigenization is the Original Gospel movement, whose leader is Professor Ikuro Teshima. For some time he was associated with the No-Church movement, and his tabernacles resemble the No-Church assemblies in many respects. But the movement, with its 15,000 members, has become a “third force” in Japanese Protestantism and has a considerable influence upon the ministers of the Kyodan and the denominational churches. With the emphasis it places upon the manifestation of the power of the Holy Spirit, it resembles the Pentecostal movement. But it differs from Pentecostalism in two regards. Whereas in Western Protestantism sin and the forgiveness of sin have been central, the stress falls here on soteria, wholeness and healing. The Holy Spirit is expected to enable the Christian to live a full life. Absence of legalism in any form and naturalness place the Original Gospel movement so near to certain forms of Japanese Buddhism that missionaries are prone to speak of syncretism. But that is precluded by its strict biblicism. The other characteristic feature is spiritual discipline. By methods like those of Buddhism, the believers raise themselves into a state of ecstasy and claim to experience the work of the Spirit in their hearts. But ecstasy is not a means of mystical contemplation, as with the ancient Egyptian monks. Rather, it enables people to live joyfully a Christian life of fellowship and love in a non-Christian, often hostile environment.

Indigenization and Westernization are in many respects conflicting tendencies. The ecumenical movement has on the whole bypassed the charismatic movements, and these in turn have looked with suspicion upon the manner in which the World Council of Churches and its Commission on Mission have envisaged the problem of church unity. Starting from the Western axiom that truth is basically propositional, the churches united in the WCC have attempted to provide a theological statement that would express their oneness in Christ. It is true that theologians in India and Japan have attempted to inject indigenous elements into the ecumenical discussion. But interesting as is their confrontation of classical theology with mythical or metaphysical elements of Hinduism or Buddhism, the debate remains thereby within the confines of a Western type of rational thought that is worlds apart from the speculative and meditative literature of the Far East. The charismatic movements, in turn, depend so obviously on the authority of their leaders that the emphasis falls on diversity rather than on oneness.

If the political development in Asia and Africa provides any clue at all, Christianity in these continents is moving toward diversity and particularism rather than organizational unity. While the “fraternal workers” that the churches of Europe and America send to those countries will plead for continuation and strengthening of ecclesiastical organization, they will find it increasingly difficult to overcome the resentment against their “Western” concept of the Church. The structure of the Roman Catholic Church, with a common spiritual head, will make it easier to combine the satisfaction of indigenous needs and wishes with solid, visible unity. For Protestantism, much will depend on a deepened understanding of the work of the Holy Spirit and on a new type of fellowship (koinonia) willing to recognize the diversity of charismatic gifts.

Otto A. Piper is professor emeritus of New Testament literature and exegesis at Princeton Seminary. He holds the degrees of Th.D. (Goettingen), D.D. (Paris), and LL.D. (Wittenberg College). Previously he taught in Germany and in Wales. Among his books are “God in History” and “The Christian Interpretation of Sex.”

Theology

Calvin the Expositor

In restoring the preaching of the Word of God to its proper place within the life of the Church, the Reformers realized that the task of interpreting the Scriptures had to undertaken in a much more serious, disciplined, and instructed way. In the Roman church preaching had been deprived of its true position; what was needed was a revival of true biblical interpretation.

None sought to meet this need more seriously and systematically than John Calvin. He grieved that Scripture, on the Protestant as well as on the Roman side, was seldom “rightly divided,” and was often deformed by false comments, as if men sought to “hide its light by their own smoke.” “Some mutilate it, others tear it, others torture it, others break it in pieces, others, keeping to the outside, never come to the soul of doctrine.”

Amid all the other tasks that claimed his energy, Calvin therefore forced himself to produce a series of remarkable commentaries on the books of the Bible. He began with the Epistle to the Romans, and concentrated at first on completing the New Testament, deliberately omitting the Book of Revelation—an omission that drew from one of his great contemporaries the admiring cry, “O most wise Calvin!” Working in the Old Testament he produced, sometimes as a series of lectures covering the whole text of a book, commentaries on all the Minor and Major Prophets (with the exception of a portion of Ezekiel), the Pentateuch, Joshua, and the Psalms.

These works were enthusiastically received by the Church in his own day, and their appeal was universal. Even in the sixteenth century, the Anglican Thomas Hooker affirmed that Calvin’s sense of Scripture was to be held as of more force than ten thousand Augustines, Jeromes, Chrysostoms, and Cyprians. Arminius, the theological opponent of Calvinism, admitted that Calvin himself was “incomparable in the interpretation of Scripture.” In a strange way this appeal to people of many different types of outlook has lasted. Sir George Adam Smith, referring to the help he had received from other commentators when engaged in his own work on Isaiah, wrote: “To begin with there was Calvin, and there is Calvin—still as valuable as ever for his strong spiritual power, his sanity, his moderation, his sensitiveness to the changes and shades of the prophet’s meaning.” It is astonishing that what Calvin produced in the 1550s can often be set favorably beside what is being produced today, and can be regarded essentially as modern rather than as medieval.

The legacy that Calvin has left us in his work as an expositor is by no means confined to the commentaries. His long series of sermons, covering consecutively the whole text of many books of the Bible, themselves form a series of extended commentaries in which Calvin, while always adhering closely to the argument of the text, allows himself a certain liberty to expand his thought and range of application. Calvin preached these sermons without notes but after careful preparation. They were taken down in shorthand, and their text was later corrected by the preacher. In this way Calvin, preaching often on weekdays as well as twice each Sunday and taking a few verses at a time as his text, covered the whole of the books of Job, Deuteronomy, Ephesians, Galatians, the Pastoral Epistles, the Synoptic Gospels, I and II Samuel, and many other selected portions of Scripture. His discipline in forcing his preaching to follow the text of the Bible systematically was seldom relaxed. Having been exiled from Geneva in 1538 as a result of violent opposition, he returned more than three years later and faced a large and expectant congregation in the cathedral. He made some brief and moderate remarks about the office of the ministry and about his own faith and integrity, and then without further ado took up the exposition of Scripture at the exact place at which he had previously stopped.

Four Expository Principles

An examination of Calvin’s work as an expositor compels us to note certain principles on which he based his approach and method.

1. A careful grammatical and historical exegesis of the text is indispensable. The Roman church had tended to despise such exegesis. Gregory the Great had scoffed at the idea that the knowledge of divine things in Scripture could possibly depend on man’s ability in grammar. It was held that the literal sense, found by exegetical methods, was essentially mean and poor. Much deeper and richer allegorical and mystical meanings were hidden from the mere scholar with his use of Greek and Hebrew but were discoverable by other methods.

Calvin, on the other hand, held that “almost the only task” of a commentator was to “unfold the mind of the writer whom he has undertaken to expound.” Therefore he seized his opportunities to become an expert in Greek, and arranged to be instructed in Hebrew by one of the great scholars of the day. He studied the words, the connection of the sentences, and the historical circumstances as far as these were relevant. In what was a revolutionary approach for his own time, he applied to the text of Scripture the methods of purely secular Latin and Greek scholars.

Such methods, he believed, would help him find the “true and natural meaning” of the text. For Calvin, of course, the writers of Holy Scripture were men who felt themselves confronted by God’s presence and redeeming activity in the midst of all they were writing about, and knew themselves to be mastered by God’s truth, to which they were seeking to bear witness under the inspiration of the Spirit. Therefore the true and natural meaning of the text and events of the Bible was bound to include this witness to Christ that the writers were constantly bearing in all they wrote. It was because he believed that the Bible contained Christ as its real and literal meaning that Calvin found Scripture to be a “most rich and inexhaustible fountain.”

2. The study of theology is an indispensable discipline for the interpretation of Scripture. In the letter dedicating his commentary on Romans to Grynaeus, he wrote: “If we understand this epistle, we have a passage opened to us to the understanding of the whole of Scripture.” Behind such a statement there lies Calvin’s belief that the whole Bible gives a consistent and faithful witness to the one revelation of God in Christ, and that the witness of each author can best be understood when it is seen and interpreted in the light of this whole witness. This principle of interpretation Calvin sometimes called the “analogy of faith,” recalling Paul’s use of this phrase in the twelfth chapter of Romans.

Calvin’s aim in the later editions of his Institutes was to give a summary of the teaching of the whole of Scripture so that the various parts of Scripture might be better understood in the light of it. He sought to “instruct candidates in sacred theology for reading the divine word, in order that they might have an easy access to it, and advance in it without stumbling.” Thus he desired to provide even for the layman “a key and an entrance” in order that he might have “access … well and truly to understand Holy Scripture.”

3. In the task of interpreting Holy Scripture, the Word itself must be allowed always to control and reform all our presuppositions, theological or otherwise. It is most significant that Calvin allowed the use of theological presuppositions in face of Holy Scripture only in order to allow us “access” to the meaning of Scripture. He would never have dreamed of suggesting we could find a theology or a system of doctrine that would enable us to “master” the Bible and to unfold, as in the solution of a cleverly constructed puzzle, the meaning of every part. He often confessed that he did not understand certain parts of the Bible, and he made an honest attempt to avoid using clever argument to harmonize the meaning he found in it with his own theology. That he gradually revised his Institutes as he wrote his commentaries may be a sign that he was willing, where he found himself able, constantly to revise his theology in the light of Scripture. “The Holy Scripture contains the mysteries of God which are hidden from our flesh, and sublime treasures of life which far surpass our human measure.”

Calvin realized that the great danger threatening every expositor of Scripture is that of “presumptuously bringing our own natural shrewdness” into the task of interpretation as a decisive factor. In this respect he believed that the Roman church had failed. Their interpreters went to Scripture, not to bring their system of doctrine under the criticism of the Word so that it might be reformed, but simply to establish with scriptural proof a system that was already final. The Roman church believed that the Church had given birth to the Word; thus the primacy, in the act of interpretation, lay not with the Word but with the Church. Calvin argued rather that it was the Word that had given birth to the Church; thus the primacy, in the act of interpretation, must be given to the Word, and not to the Church with its theology.

Calvin clearly and beautifully describes his own attitude as an interpreter of Scripture in a passage in the Institutes:

We do not with perverted ardor and without discrimination rashly seize upon what first springs to our minds. Rather, after diligently meditating upon it, we embrace the meaning which the Spirit of God offers. Relying upon it, we look down from a height at whatever of earthly wisdom is set against it, Indeed, we hold our minds captive, that they dare not raise even one little word of protest, and humble them, that they dare not rebel against it.

4. The true meaning of a passage will be found only as its relevance is found for the constantly urgent situation of the Church in the world. In interpreting any passage of Scripture, the commentator or preacher must decide which aspects of the message of the text he wishes to dwell on and wrestle with, in order to pass on to the Church what he has found there. Calvin abhorred the practice of those who made the interpretation of Scripture simply an occasion for showing their skill in manipulating phrases, or for playing about with trivial points as if they were a game. The interpreter must never forget that Scripture is given in order that the people of God might be brought into obedience to his will in their present situation. The preacher’s duty is to allow Scripture to speak to men about the will of God in concrete terms, and “to supply weapons to fight against Antichrist.” He can interpret Scripture properly, therefore, only when he has his mind acutely occupied with the situation of the people for whose sake he is interpreting the Word.

Certainly Calvin himself did not always follow the principles he laid down so clearly. Sometimes his theological bias overcame his exegetical judgment, and sometimes he neglected historical research because he saw the immediate relevance of a passage so vividly. But in his approach, method, and practice, there is much to challenge us today. Many of us are tempted either to despise or to neglect the hard exegetical or theological work (or the training for this work) that alone can enable us to be consistently true interpreters of Scripture. Many of us would, in our actual practice, tend to show little faith in Calvin’s thesis that in the long run a strict adherence to truth, in biblical exegesis, is the policy that will ultimately prove most effective in building up the Church. We depend on the immediate inspiration of the moment, and tend to “seize rashly” on any superficial feature of the text that may seem edifying or that gives us a pretext for constructing a good sermon—and sometimes the result is a display of skill rather than an urgent and saving message for the people of God. Far too many of us go to Scripture to have our theology confirmed rather than reformed.

God’S Sword Thrusts

David’s prayer became mine: “Search me, O God.… See if there be any wicked way in me.… Lead me …” (Ps. 139:23, 24). I arose feeling uncondemned; no sin stained our relationship—God’s and mine. I hummed as I rolled my shiny washing machine from the corner. Suddenly panic seized me. I remembered another woman. She was struggling to coax a balky washer from its corner. Anxious to sell it before moving, I had assured her that it washed beautifully, failing to mention that the casters would scarcely roll.

Had she been censuring me, I wondered? Oh, well, that was done months ago and far away.

“Search me,” my prayer echoed!

With trembling fingers I wrote, “Forgive me for not telling you about the casters.… Check is enclosed for entire price.”

My heart bowed as I read her answer: “Your letter was the best sermon I ever heard.… Returning the check.”—LOIS GORDON, Fayetteville, Arkansas.

Calvin’S Method And Ours

Calvin’s close adherence to the text of Scripture contrasts with our usual practice today. We often try to reduce what the text says to some topic or theme or series of connected themes, which we then treat in a neatly constructed sermon, with an introduction and a conclusion. Calvin tended to dispense with such medieval scholastic forms. The announcement of his text served often for introduction enough. The argument of his sermon followed the sequence of thoughts as they arose out of the text during his progress through it, and the sermon ended when the last part of the text had been dealt with, the whole having gained its unity from the unity of the text. Calvin’s method in this respect is not always so rhetorically satisfying as ours, but it does seem to ensure the conditions under which the Word of God is least likely to be obscured by our own human wisdom. Calvin’s practice of disciplined preaching on lengthy and consecutive passages of Scripture would save many of us the agony of having to jump about here and there, rather tiringly, in choosing a text, and would ensure for our people that our preaching does not neglect or evade any important aspects of the biblical teaching. Moreover, the wealth of expression found in the biblical text would add a new and surprising variety to our often well-worn phraseology. “Let us apply ourselves to the text,” says Karl Barth. “The true exegete will always find in it fresh depths and new mysteries; like a child in a marvelous garden, he will be filled with wonder.”

But we must end with Calvin himself: “We ought to have such respect for the Word of God that any difference of interpretation on our part should alter it as little as possible. Its majesty is somewhat diminished especially if we do not interpret it with great discretion and moderation. If it be considered a sin to corrupt what has been dedicated to God, we assuredly cannot tolerate anyone who handles that most sacred of all things on earth with unclean or even ill-prepared hands.”

Ronald S. Wallace is minister of Lothian Road Church of Scotland, Edinburgh. A graduate in Arts and Science, he holds also the Ph.D. from Edinburgh University. He has lectured widely in Britain and in the United States, and his published works include two books on Calvin.

Theology

The Glories of Heaven

Most of us have a rather vague concept of heaven. It is necessarily so. We can understand new things only in terms of something we already know. Thus, for instance, we have difficulty telling someone what an exotic tropical fruit tastes like. How can we describe it? It does not taste like an apple, a pear, a tomato, or anything else. To know how it tastes, one must taste it.

Imagine trying to describe a sunset to someone born blind. He has never seen a glow, a light, or a fire, and does not know red from black or green. Our terms are but empty words to him. Thus heaven is indescribable. It is not like anything we have already known or experienced. It is a new realm beyond our comprehension.

To some, “heaven” means nothing more than streets of gold. Some whose loved ones have gone on ahead think of heaven primarily as a grand reunion. Others think of it as the final great escape, with no more sorrow and sickness (a desirable state, to be sure, but a wholly negative concept). There are also those who feel the proper expectation is that of being with Jesus.

Much of the biblical description that we apply to heaven, however, does not refer explicitly to heaven at all! No death, no sorrow, no pain; walls of jasper, streets of gold, gates of pearl, foundations of precious stones; lighted by the glory of God, and free from all defilement—all this is spoken of the “holy Jerusalem, descending out of heaven from God” (Rev. 21). The description is not of heaven but of the capital city of the new earth. “And the nations of them which are saved shall walk in the light of it: and the kings of the earth do bring their glory and honor into it” (v. 24).

Yet we are told that “they which are written in the Lamb’s book of life” will enter into it (v. 27). Shall we conclude, then, with the Jehovah’s Witnesses that we are not going to heaven but to a new, redeemed earth? By no means! True, we shall have access to the city; but we are nowhere limited to it. The description in verse 25, “the gates of it shall not be shut at all …,” suggests exit as well as entrance.

Who knows what starry vistas will be ours? It is not likely that man, already reaching into space, will in his perfect state be bound to this earth. We shall be like Christ, and he ascended bodily into heaven before the very eyes of the disciples. And what will heaven be like? Who knows? But surely it will exceed in glory the new Jerusalem, and that is saying a great deal!

While heaven will be glorious for circumstance, however, the greater glory will consist in our transformation. Things, after all, have never brought happiness. If “a man’s life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth” here, how can abundance of things there make a heavenly life? Some here have everything and are miserable, while others are quite content with meager fare.

Glory all around us will never make a heaven unless there is glory within us, too. After all, we shall still have to live with ourselves, and that can be pretty miserable. We should therefore be more interested in becoming wonderful people than in going to a wonderful place. And a study of the Scriptures reveals that it is exactly at this point that God puts his emphasis.

Now, so far as the body is concerned, the transformation will occur at the return of our Lord. Although in one sense our salvation was complete when Jesus Christ cried out upon the Cross, “It is finished,” in another sense our salvation is still not complete. We are yet “waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of our body” (Rom. 8:23). Our bodies are still under the curse of sin.

Thus Paul could say, in Romans 13:11, “… now is our salvation nearer than when we believed.” What? Did not our salvation come when we believed? In a very real sense it did. Our souls were saved from sin’s penalty, eternal death. But our bodies are still subject to the penalty of death. Yet we shall be saved even with respect to our bodies. “For our conversation is in heaven; from whence also we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ: who shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto his glorious body …” (Phil. 3:20, 21).

While that bodily transformation is, then, to be accomplished at His coming, the changing of our vile character to be like his glorious character ought to be taking place now. Indeed, this is God’s whole purpose in the disciplines of everyday life.

We love to quote Romans 8:28—“All things work together for good to them that love God.…” But in what sense is the verse true? All things do not always work together for our financial good; many godly people never have much more than bare essentials. All things do not work together for our physical well-being, our social prominence, or our vocational success. Many who do not love God have a greater share of all these things than those who do.

Change Through Circumstance

But in a deeper sense all things do indeed work together for good to them that love God, “… to them who are the called according to his purpose … [which is] to be conformed to the image of his Son … (Rom. 8:28, 29). Everything God permits to enter the life of the believer he intends to contribute to this greatest good: to make us Christlike. Our financial reverses, our bodily infirmities, our personal and interpersonal problems, our trials, our blessings—all can help make us like him. As by faith we dedicate ourselves to him in all the circumstances of our lives, we are transformed here and now.

This is where God places his great emphasis. How often we miss it! How often we hear Christians claiming (no, mis-claiming) Ephesians 3:20: “Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think.…” Almost always, those who quote the verse have in mind that God should do some great thing for them—bring about a wonderful solution to their problems, or pour out unimaginable blessing on their efforts. But the verse offers something much better. “Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us.” We want the power to work for us; God wants it to work in us.

The context bears out this glorious fact. God can do so much more in us than we realize! He can make us so much better persons than we are or can even hope to be. Even dwarfed, twisted personalities can actually be “filled with all the fullness of God” (v. 19), and unbelievably changed. This is many times better and more glorious than merely having God do something for us.

The glories of heaven, what will they be? “I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us” (Rom. 8:18). The man who uttered those words knew great suffering. He had been stoned, beaten, shipwrecked, maligned, and imprisoned, and had suffered hunger and cold. Yet these sufferings were not merely small compared to the glory awaiting him—they were also so small as to be unworthy even to be compared with that glory. But again, it is not so much a glory that shall be revealed to us as a glory that shall be revealed in us.

The Christian And Death

Sometimes we are subjected to a charge of inconsistency in this matter. “You Christians say that heaven is so much more wonderful than this life. You say you know you are saved and bound for heaven. Yet you do not want to die. If heaven is so great and you have no doubt of your destiny, why do you not want to go there?”

Let us admit, first of all, that most Christians do not relish the thought of dying. Death is an enemy; the Bible plainly says so (1 Cor. 15:26). It is an unnatural phenomenon, whatever funeral orators may say to the contrary; for God created man, not to die, but to live on and on. Death has thrust itself upon us through sin. We do not like it; we are not supposed to like it.

Secondly, let us also admit that heaven remains primarily an unknown quantity to us. If we really knew what heaven was like, we should be eager to go there. Yet death itself would still be an undesirable enemy.

Only one man in the Bible, apart from our Lord Jesus Christ, really knew what heaven was like; and he did want to go there. He knew the glories of heaven firsthand, for he had been there and returned. That man, the Apostle Paul, tells us about it in Second Corinthians 12:2–4: “I knew a man in Christ above fourteen years ago (whether in the body, I cannot tell; or whether out of the body, I cannot tell: God knoweth), such an one caught up to the third heaven. And I knew such a man (whether in the body, or out of the body, I cannot tell: God knoweth), how that he was caught up into paradise, and heard unspeakable words, which it is not lawful for a man to utter.”

Paul speaks in the third person as if he were describing the experience of someone else, but there is no doubt that he really refers to himself. Very likely this was his experience when he was stoned at Lystra on his first missionary journey (Acts 14:19). Paul tells the Corinthians that this paradise experience happened “above fourteen years ago.” The date of this letter was about 60 A.D. The episode at Lystra occurred in 46 A.D., fourteen years earlier. Some believe Paul was killed at that time, that he could not possibly have survived such a stoning as the Jews practiced as a means of execution. They believe Paul was actually raised from the dead. Paul himself makes it doubly plain that he does not know whether he was in the body or out of it.

In any case, he was caught up to the “third heaven.” If the first heaven is our atmosphere, the “heaven” where the birds and airplanes fly; and the second heaven is the starry heaven of outer space; then the third heaven is the abode of God himself. Paul calls it paradise. There he heard “unspeakable words which it is not lawful for a man to utter.” They were “unspeakable,” that is, they could not be humanly expressed. Paul could not have described heaven had he wanted to, nor would it have been “lawful” to do so.

We might ask, Why? Why will God not allow us to hear all about heaven’s glories? In the first place, we are to walk by faith, not by sight. We are to trust him that heaven is all glorious, without knowing what it really is like. Besides, if we knew how glorious heaven is, we probably should be more taken up with it than with him. We are to serve him because we love him, not for the glory of our heavenly reward. Moreover, we might be rendered unfit by a vision of that glory to serve here in this vile world in the spirit of humility and cheerfulness so essential to the servant of the Lord. Had it not been for Paul’s humiliating thorn in the flesh, even a man as spiritual as he would have been so unavoidably puffed up by such a revelation as to be rendered useless (2 Cor. 12:7). This in itself reveals something of heaven’s glory, a glory so great that it would exalt a man above all measure.

Paul would have liked to go to heaven after this experience; yet he was left upon earth to continue a needed ministry. When in a Roman jail he contemplated the possibility of execution, he hardly knew what to choose: “For I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ; which is far better; nevertheless to abide in the flesh is more needful for you” (Phil. 1:23, 24).

Heaven will indeed be glorious—glorious for circumstance, but more glorious for the transformation in us. It will be glory unspeakable.

Stanley C. Baldwin founded Calvary Community Church of Albany, Oregon, and served for seven years as its pastor. He was ordained by the Conservative Baptist Association and is now a full-time evangelist.

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