JOHN ROBINSON, Bishop of Woolwich, is 44, a ban-the-bomb marcher, member of the Labour party, defender of Lady Chatterley’s Lover, opponent of capital punishment, and campaigner for reform of severe legislation against homosexuality (“a peculiarly odious piece of English hypocrisy”). On his consecration in 1959 he publicly vowed to be “ready with all faithful diligence, to banish and drive away all erroneous and strange doctrine contrary to God’s Word.”

A few months ago Robinson’s paperback Honest to God hit the market (SCM Press, London; Westminster Press, Philadelphia). Currently at the top of the non-fiction best-seller list in England, sales to date total some 200,000. The effect it has produced is astounding. Despite a boost from the pulpit of Westminster Abbey from a preacher who turned out to be the publisher of the book, it has been denounced by the Archbishop of Canterbury as rejecting the concept of a personal God as expressed in the Bible. An Oxford don complained that the bishop was making it increasingly difficult to be an atheist; a humanist-agnostic acknowledged the bishop’s “gratuitous contribution to our basic standpoint”; a left-wing columnist welcomed the idea of “a non-Christian bishop”; and London’s Daily Herald hailed the “agonising and unusual spectacle—a bishop gasping for truth.”

In a confused opening section Robinson scoffs at what he considers our outdated image of God as “up there” or “out there”—neither the literal nor the symbolic view will do. He suggests the Freudians might be right: that “the God of traditional popular theology is a projection, and perhaps we are being called to live without that projection in any form.… actually the Bible speaks in literal terms of a God whom we have already abandoned.” Does it? Have we? What is not at all clear is what Robinson is putting in place of the view “we” are discarding.

In other sections of the book the argument becomes clearer, but the tone ceases to be speculative and becomes astonishingly dogmatic. Thus pages 118, 119: “The only intrinsic evil is lack of love.… this is the criterion for every form of behaviour, inside marriage or out of it, in sexual ethics or in any other field. For nothing, else makes a thing right or wrong.” Unless words are carefully defined, this is dangerous nonsense. “When we want to read of the deeds that are done for love,” said George Bernard Shaw sixty years ago, “whither do we turn? To the murder column.”

Of the Atonement, Robinson says: “The whole schema of a supernatural Being coming down from heaven to ‘save’ mankind from sin, in the way that a man might put his finger into a glass of water to rescue a struggling insect, is frankly incredible to man ‘come of age’.… the ‘full, perfect and sufficient sacrifice, oblation, and satisfaction for the sins of the whole world’ supposed to have been ‘made’ on Calvary requires, I believe, for most men today more demythologizing even than the Resurrection” (pp. 78, 79). Apart from such destructive criticism, many will find offensive the impression given that these are the sort of conclusions necessarily arrived at if men are thoughtful about religion, and don’t want to be branded as incorrigibly square. The impression is confirmed when we read page 70 on the Incarnation: “The belief that we are at this point and in this person in touch with God has increasingly been left to the religious minority that can still accept the old mythology as physically or metaphysically true.” But on this subject the bishop goes further. “Jesus was not a man born and bred,” he asserts, “he was God for a limited period taking part in a charade. He looked like a man, but underneath he was God dressed up—like Father Christmas.” Well, he’s got the point across, but many will never forgive him for the way he did it.

At other times Robinson shows an odd pseudo-pragmatic approach. In one section redolent of engaging candor he tells how the whole of the teaching on prayer he received in his theological college meant little: “… it was an impressive roundabout: but one was simply not on it—and, what was worse, had no particular urge to be.” Because what his teachers said here rang no bell with him, that was the end of it—he found then, and confirmed later, that he was not “the praying type,” that he had no “proficiency for it” (pp. 20, 92, 93).

In this book the names of Bonhoeffer and Tillich are freely bandied about, and both are extensively quoted. The latter scholar’s name especially might serve to explain an incredible reference on page 21, where Robinson admits: “I cannot claim to have understood all I am trying to transmit.” He might profess not to know what the message was when it left him, but when it gets to us it seems perilously like a major and determined attack upon Christian orthodoxy—though on occasion the Tillichian big guns are called into service to demolish a pitiable caricature of the faith.

Dr. Ramsey said that he was “specially grieved at the method chosen by the Bishop for presenting his ideas to the public.” Dr. Ramsey is completely right: his words go straight to the heart of the situation. That Robinson realized the potential offense, as any intelligent man would, can be seen from his preface, which forecast that many would consider his book heretical.

After indulging in his little exercise in controversial divinity, Dr. Robinson continues in office as a bishop in the church of Christ. Perhaps on September 30, the fourth anniversary of his consecration, he might read again in the Book of Common Prayer words addressed to him on that occasion: “Be to the flock of Christ a shepherd, not a wolf; feed them, devour them not. Hold up the weak, heal the sick, bind up the broken, bring again the outcasts, seek the lost. Be so merciful, that ye be not too remiss; so minister discipline, that you forget not mercy: that when the chief Shepherd shall appear ye may receive the never-fading crown of glory; through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

Calvin on the papacy—Daniel and Paul foretold that Antichrist would sit in the temple of God (Dan. 9:27; 2 Thess. 2:4); we regard the Roman Pontiff as the leader and standard-bearer of that wicked and abominable kingdom. By placing his seat in the temple of God, it is intimated that his kingdom would not be such as to destroy the name either of Christ or of his Church. Hence, then, it is obvious that we do not at all deny that churches remain under his tyranny; churches, however, which by sacrilegious impiety he has profaned, by cruel domination has oppressed, by evil and deadly doctrines like poisoned potions has corrupted and almost slain; churches where Christ lies half-buried, the gospel is suppressed, piety is put to flight, and the worship of God almost abolished; where, in short, all things are in such disorder as to present the appearance of Babylon rather than the holy city of God (Institutes, II, IV, ii, 12).

LUTHER ON THE POPE—We regard and condemn both the pope and the Turk as the very Antichrist … (Vol. II, p. 181). It is impossible for the tyranny of the popes to continue any longer, for Rome is so tainted with every kind of wickedness that it cannot be any worse unless it becomes hell itself … (II, 220).… His Most Execrable Lordship, the pope … (II, 151). Our doctrine frees all nations from the torture and tyranny of Satan, from sin, from eternal death, from the countless monstrosities of the pope, and from the notoriously heavy burden of conscience (III, 342).—Luther’s Works, ed. by Jaroslav Pelikan, Concordia, 1960.

WORLD COUNCIL OF CHURCHES—We beg your eminence to accept the expression of our deeply felt sympathy on the decease of Pope John XXIII, who has contributed so greatly to the new brotherly relationships of the Churches believing in the one Lord. May he rest in peace and his works be fulfilled.—Cable to Cardinal Bea, president of the Vatican Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity, by Dr. FRANKLIN CLARK FRY, chairman of the Council’s Central Committee; Dr. ERNEST A. PAYNE, vice-chairman; and Dr. W. A. VISSER ’T HOOFT, WCC general secretary.

LUTHERAN WORLD FEDERATION—The hearts of Christians of every confession are united to a degree that is unique for many centuries at the death of the universally esteemed and beloved John XXIII, the Pope of Unity. Thanks to God who gave him to our generation. All of us would have wished for him to live on, throwing open doors of understanding and thawing the antagonisms that have separated Christian brethren. Our prayer is that the warmth of his spirit will not he chilled and the height of his vision will not shrink.—Franklin Clark Fry, president, Lutheran World Federation, the world’s largest Protestant grouping.

A MAN OF WIDE VISION—I feel that Pope John XXIII was a very aggressive and effective leader of his people. He was sincerely interested in the whole matter of world peace. He was a man of wide vision who demonstrated his insight to the critical condition of a world in need.—K. OWEN WHITE, president of the Southern Baptist Convention.

THE DIVINE SPARK—He was the chosen leader of world Catholicism, but his concern for the human spirit transcended all boundaries of belief or geography.… To him the divine spark which unites men would ultimately prove more enduring than the forces which divide.—President JOHN F. KENNEDY.

OUT OF THE KREMLIN—We retain good memories of John XXIII, whose fruitful activities for the maintenance and strengthening of peace earned him wide recognition and won him the respect of peace-loving peoples.—Premier NIKITA KHRUSHCHEV.

MAN OF THE YEAR—He has demonstrated such warmth, simplicity and charm that he has won the hearts of Catholics, Protestants and non-Christians alike.—Time magazine, saluting Pope John as “Man of the Year” in 1962, and as the most popular pontiff of modern times and perhaps ever.

A WORLD SPIRIT—Of all the leaders in the world at this moment, I know of none who so radiates a sense of paternal regard for all God’s children as Pope John XXIII.—ADLAI E. STEVENSON, United States ambassador to the United Nations, in a talk at Notre Dame University.

ABLE ARBITER—The death of Pope John is a loss not only to the Roman Catholic Church, but to a fragmented and anxious world needing meaning and unity in the midst of chaos. Pope John’s churchmanship and diplomacy made it possible for him to be an arbiter among the most divergent points of view.—EUGENE CARSON BLAKE, stated clerk of The United Presbyterian Church in the United States of America.

A RESURRECTION OF LOVE—The Pope seemed to be struggling to resurrect the message of Christian love from the grave of institutional absolutism where it has long been buried. I hope that the new pope will continue in this wise course. Pope John was more interested in people than in ritual, forms, and ceremonies. He was a kindly and earthy human being who had entered the door of friendship with other churches. I hope this will eventually lead to full religious freedom for those who have differing emphases.—GLENN ARCHER, Protestants and Other Americans United.

DIFFERENCES REMAIN—Although our beliefs differ sharply the Bible teaches us to mourn with those who mourn, so we share the sorrow of our Roman Catholic friends in the loss of their dedicated leader, Pope John XXIII.—ROBERT COOK, president, National Association of Evangelicals.

MORE THAN CHARITY—Pope John’s reform movement within his own church has confronted evangelicals with the prime necessity of reaffirming basic Reformation principles in the context of our modern, scientific-secular age. His vision of amity via conformity to Roman Catholic dogma, however, served only to reinforce the wall of separation between Roman Catholic tradition and classic evangelical Christianity. It will certainly take much more than his admirable spirit of charity to break down that wall.—STUART GARVER, Christ’s Mission.

Not For The Faint Of Heart

Overkill and Megalove, by Norman Corwin (World, 1963, 114 pp., $3.50), and Hostage America, by Robert A. Dentler and Phillips Cutright (Beacon Press, 1963, 167 pp., $3.95), are reviewed by Earle E. Cairns, chairman of the Department of History and Political Science, Wheaton College, Wheaton, Illinois.

These books are for those who do not panic easily but want to consider the horrors of nuclear war and the possible alternatives. Neither pessimistic negativism nor optimistic positivism appeals to these authors. They face the possibility of civilization’s disappearing in a nuclear holocaust but suggest a possibility of constructive action to meet the challenge by means other than unilateral or total disarmament, or a mad rush to find the ultimate weapon first. Corwin’s vision is less practical than that of Dentler and Cutright, but both books give evidence of thorough research. Both reduce nuclear warfare to its impact upon particular economic, religious, and political groups, and especially upon the individual.

Corwin’s skills in communications media are used negatively to pillory defenders of nuclear war in savage, satirical, and at times crude, at other times basically religious (pp. 12, 18, 36), poetry. He then develops his positive vision in “Could Be,” originally written for the United Nations, which is a picture of the peaceful constructive use of nuclear power by international cooperative effort. This could become the moral equivalent of war.

The two sociologists, Dentler and Cutright, consider America a hostage to war since the Russian explosion of a hydrogen bomb in August, 1953. This thesis leads them to consider the results, in social and individual terms, of a probable nuclear attack upon seventy urban areas.

After considering five ways in which our theory of deterrence might lead to thermonuclear war, they point out the enormous loss of life and the religious, economic, and political maladjustments that a nuclear strike would bring. They close the first chapter with a statement on the impracticality of civil defense and shelters: an enemy would merely increase the megatonnage needed for destruction of his foe. The necessary 20,000 megatons are already available even if we exclude land- or submarine-based missiles. In the second chapter the authors conclude that panic, anxieties in shelter life, and physical difficulties (with chemical gases, high humidity, and temperatures), as well as the breakdown of leadership, might make life intolerable in the necessary six-month period in the shelter. The third chapter demonstrates poor chances for long-term recovery of the nation in terms of health, the economy, and democracy within five to fifteen years of the attack.

This gloomy picture is offset in the final chapter by their hope for a possible Nuclear Neutralization Pact (pp. 102, 103) to ban production, testing, and use of nuclear weapons or delivery systems. Nations could instead use conventional forces to carry on limited warfare. Pressure by individual citizens could well achieve this.

Dentler and Cutright provide the practical data pointing up the problem of nuclear war; Corwin provides the dynamic and the vision. The former are more realistic in their approach to a possible solution which citizen pressure might bring in the policies of the two nuclear giants. The evangelical, who cannot have a lasting pessimism concerning the future since it is in God’s sovereign control, can yet realistically support the limited goals which Dentler and Cutright suggest. It is more realistic than total or unilateral disarmament or the escalation of nuclear weapons.

EARLE E. CAIRNS

Christian Writers

Books with Men Behind Them, by Edmund Fuller (Random House, 1962, 240 pp., $3.95), is reviewed by D. Bruce Lockerbie, chairman of the English Department, The Stony Brook School, Stony Brook, New York.

In Books with Men Behind Them critic Edmund Fuller has written a companion volume to his Man in Modern Fiction, published in 1958. The earlier work established as Fuller’s fundamental premise the Christian view of man “as a created being, with an actual or potential relationship to his Creator,” as “inherently imperfect, but with immense possibilities for redemption and reconciliation with his Creator.”

Books with Men Behind Them differs from its predecessor, although it shares the same vision of man. In his new hook Fuller writes of authors he admires, and except for an unnecessary chapter, “The Post-Chatterley Deluge,” which he hoped would link his two books, he has produced an exceptionally solid and readable study of significant modern writers. Fuller concentrates on seven contemporaries, the latter four of whom have special interest to Christian readers: Thornton Wilder, Gladys Schmitt, C. P. Snow, Alan Paton, C. S. Lewis, J. R. R. Tolkien, and Charles Williams.

Fuller shares the view generally accepted among evangelicals, that Paton’s Cry, the Beloved Country is the paramount Christian novel of our time. However most of the chapter on Paton considers his lesser-known novel, Too Late the Phalerope, which Fuller compares with The Scarlet Letter and Crime and Punishment. In his dealings with sin and justification through grace, Paton’s commitment to Christian beliefs is evident throughout both books.

C. S. Lewis is “the Christian spaceman,” and it is the Lewis trilogy of Out of the Silent Planet, Perelandra, and That Hideous Strength that Fuller analyzes. Lewis has suggested, as have other writers before him, that the man in space will not find that God has changed. He will find, in Fuller’s words, that “if, elsewhere, there are other beings who have fallen, before or since man’s fall, it is likely that God will have devised the appropriate means for their redemption, though not necessarily the same as the means for ours.”

J. R. R. Tolkien, to whom Lewis dedicated The Screwtape Letters, and Charles Williams have never acquired the popular reception given to Lewis. Tolkien’s writings are not unrecognized, but that recognition has been held almost clandestinely by his admirers. The Hobbit and the other volumes of his four-part cycle, The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers, and The Return of the King, remind Fuller of Wagner’s Ring music drama. Williams, like Lewis, has a mixed audience: he is known as scholar (for his Dante studies), as popular theologian (The Descent of the Dove), and as novelist. These varied skills he combines in fiction such as Shadows of Ecstasy, War in Heaven, and All Hallows’ Eve—works strange enough to evoke from Fuller this oddity: “If you can imagine grafting a Dorothy Sayers detective story onto the Apocalypse of St. John, the resulting fruit might be like a Charles Williams novel.”

Books with Men Behind Them possesses its own merit as criticism, to be sure, but its value is heightened by the fact that the books and the men it spotlights are worthy of consideration.

D. BRUCE LOCKERBIE

For The Long Hike

Hurdles to Heaven, by Brian Whitlow (Harper & Row, 1963, 155 pp., $3), is reviewed by Karl A. Olsson, president, North Park College, Chicago, Illinois.

Dean Whitlow’s book on the seven capital sins uses a trope from the running track or perhaps from a journey to suggest its character. Life is like a race or a pilgrimage, and only he who finishes the course keeps the faith. In a day of what might be called equestrian theology, this is refreshing. We are not given any mad flights to the thunder of hooves or any leaps into the abyss. With Christian in Pilgrim’s Progress we walk or lope. And the temptations we encounter are stiles we climb over on our way.

This pedestrian ethic, and I use the term as a commendation, is directed toward everyman in the Church. It is not without significance that Dean Whitlow has already written a book in which the worship needs of everyman are met. He now faces the persistent problems in our common moral life. No one who reads the book can fail to be impressed by the good gray quality of its diagnosis and its cure.

The author’s procedure is thorough and helpful. After a brief historical account of the origins of the seven sins in the Church, he proceeds to an analysis of each in terms of its proliferations. The assumption is that the seven capital sins are mothers with whole broods of dismal progeny. Dean Whitlow leaves none unaccounted for. He then deals with the Christian foil for the sins, showing how the corresponding virtues stem from the New Testament and particularly from the teaching of our Lord.

In working out the pattern of the sins the author not only ranges widely and perceptively in the world of books (Dostoyevsky, Eliot, Tolstoy, Marlowe, Gregory, Wouk), but also constructs his own parables in which the capital transgressions are given arms and legs and a face and are shown walking about in the world we know. At the end of each chapter are appropriate quotations from Scriptures and sensitively chosen prayers to accompany the Christian sojourner on his way to heaven.

KARL A. OLSSON

Twin Cities?

The Hemlock and the Cross, by Geddes MacGregor (J. B. Lippincott, 1963, 255 pp., $5.50), is reviewed by C. Gregg Singer, professor of history, Catawba College, Salisbury, North Carolina.

Reading for Perspective

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

★ Man in the Struggle for Peace, by Charles Malik (Harper & Row, $5). Prominent Christian statesman lays strategy for a distinctively Western revolution which will prepare the world for peace as well as for war.

★ The Christian Mind, by Harry Blamires (Seabury, $3.50). The author urges that there is no longer a Christian mind, but only Christians saturated with secularism.

★ Things Most Surely Believed, edited by Clarence S. Roddy (Revell, $3.95). The faculty of Fuller Theological Seminary in a fifteen-voice symposium declares its understanding of and commitment to the great affirmations of the Christian faith.

In this book Geddes MacGregor, dean of the Graduate School of Religion in the University of Southern California, raises once more the great question which Tertullian posed for the Church of his day: “What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?” MacGregor offers to the Church of the twentieth century a very different answer from that which Tertullian gave. In place of the insistence that the Academy and Jerusalem have nothing in common, he insists that they are mutually dependent; and the very name of this book signifies the close relationship which he finds existing between Christianity and humanism. The hemlock signifies the manner in which Socrates, the real founder of humanism, died; the Cross, of course, signifies the death of Jesus Christ. His conclusion is that the humanism which had its origin in the method and teachings of Socrates and the teachings of Christ are virtually wedded to one another and have much in common. “The Cross, in its march through the Mediterranean, could not help picking up bits of the hemlock on its travels” (pp. 131, 132). The result of this process has been an indissoluble wedding between Christianity and humanism, and “indeed there is no reason for wishing to dissolve it.” Such statements are indicative of the spirit of the work.

While MacGregor does not deny the supernatural claims of Christianity, it is quite clear that in his thinking supernaturalism is not that of the Scriptures. There is no recognition of the uniqueness of the Christian faith, or of the authority of the Scriptures. There seems to be no awareness of the fact that even in the ancient Church Augustine set forth a third approach to the problem of classical culture quite different from both that of the school at Alexandria and that of Tertullian, in which he insisted that all human learning must be brought into captivity to Jesus Christ and the Word of God. It is unfortunate, and quite misleading, when MacGregor claims Augustine for his own position.

There is value in this book, but it fails to sharpen our appreciation for historic Christianity and it paints humanism in terms of which it is hardly deserving. In order to achieve a synthesis between the two, Professor MacGregor does justice to neither the Cross nor the hemlock.

C. GREGG SINGER

Bits And Gems

The Place of Understanding, and other papers, by Nathaniel Micklem (Geoffrey Bles, 1963, 177 pp., 16s.), is reviewed by Martin H. Cressey, minister, St. Columba’s Presbyterian Church, Coventry, England.

“The Gospel is not at all indefinite, but it is to be spiritually apprehended and never conclusively defined” (p. 12); “An undogmatic faith is sure to be invertebrate, and certainly it is not historic Christianity” (p. 45); “the ideals and principles of politics, as I suppose, point to the transcendent, the ultimate, the Being whom we call God” (p. 82).

These three quotations may serve as clues to the many-sided writings of the former principal of Mansfield College, Oxford, represented in this volume by lectures, articles, and portions of earlier books. Here is comment on the religion of Shelley, some plain speaking on the centrality of the figure of the historic Jesus, and some wise discussion of international law and “Politics and Religion.” On this last Dr. Micklem says some things highly relevant to current controversies about the state’s recognition of God, about the difference between “the religion of the religious” (in the West, organized Christianity) and what he calls “the religion of the people.”

The more philosophical writing, including the piece which gives the book its title, are more in the manner of idealism than will appeal to present-day Oxford—but this may not be a bad thing!

MARTIN H. CRESSEY

A Two-Edged Method

Karl Barth’s Theological Method, by Gordon Clark (Presbyterian & Reformed, 1963, $5), is reviewed by Harold B. Kuhn, professor of the philosophy of religion, Asbury Theological Seminary, Wilmore, Kentucky.

Evangelicals have not found it easy to survey the works of Basel’s famous theologian with objectivity. Dr. Gordon Clark has in this carefully reasoned volume avoided the tendency to dismiss Barth with a facile: “He is Kantian; he is not Reformed; the truth is not in him.” The work seeks to investigate the method of Barth, rather than his treatment of specific doctrines of the Christian creed. On the positive side, Professor Clark finds Barth to be systematic and logical, although he feels that in the Kircheliche Dogmatik the Swiss theologian restricts unduly the field of the norm of logic (p. 59). He applauds his criticisms of “the immanentism, the optimism, and the humanism” of nineteenth-century “liberal” Protestantism (p. 4). He likes Barth’s rejection of mysticism upon the ground of its irrationality (p. 117) and welcomes his attempt to maintain the integrity of reason as an instrument for the exploration and elaboration of theological truth.

At the same time, Dr. Clark calls many of Barth’s procedures and conclusions into question. He thinks that Barth goes too far in denouncing philosophy as “a game of wits” (p. 84), and that he dismisses unbelief too easily. He feels that Barth’s system does in essence deny the imago dei, and that his method, while asserting logic and rationalism, degenerates into irrationalism as it faces certain vital problems.

Perhaps his strongest objection to Barth’s Dogmatik as a whole concerns Barth’s view of revelation. Allowing that Barth’s theology may rightfully be termed a “theology of the Word,” he yet finds Barth equivocal in his definition of revelation. That is, in his downgrading of all language and verbalization (done in the name of faith) (p. 120), he elaborates an unbiblical form of epistemology (p. 127) and undercuts the factuality of Scripture, rendering it essentially wordless (p. 173).

It seems clear that Dr. Clark is dissatisfied with Barth’s attempts to evade certain questions which ought to be controversial. For example, he dislikes the tendency of the Swiss theologian to substitute the formula “capacity for error” for “fallibility” (pp. 195 f.) and his attempt to substitute the term “saga” for “myth.” Barth seems to him to embed two basic errors in his theology: that of a “wordless religion” and that of an implicit universalism (pp. 220 ff.).

This volume is a wholesome contribution to the literature relating to Karl Barth and his theology. It is somewhat less sanguine than Professor Berkouwer’s The Triumph of Grace in the Theology of Karl Barth. One cannot characterize it as easy reading; but the thoroughness of its conclusions will reward the careful reader. Its appeal to Calvin’s Institutes as normative for theology may seem to some readers too frequent and too thoroughgoing. But many will applaud the author’s loyalty to the historic Christian faith.

HAROLD B. KUHN

Recognizing Revelation

Twentieth Century Religious Thought: The Frontiers of Philosophy and Theology, 1900–1960, by John Macquarrie (Harper & Row, 1963, 415 pp., $5) is reviewed by James Daane, editorial associate, CHRISTIANITY TODAY.

This book traverses that corridor where the theology and philosophy of 1900–1960 met, touched, and influenced each other. The number of thinkers treated is almost legion, and the number of conflicting answers given life’s deepest problems recalls Tennyson’s “our little systems have their day, they have their day and cease to be.” Though the point is not made, the book is a warning against the folly of becoming a passionate disciple of some latest school of thought. What is modern in thought is not long thought of as modern.

Considering the mass of material to be shaped into manageable limits and within them the difficulty of being both adequate and lucid, Macquarrie, professor of systematic theology at New York’s Union Theological Seminary, has done admirably well. The book is fine for quick reference; but it is more, for it shows movements and alterations of religious and philosophical thinking, particularly as the latter influenced the former in the twentieth century.

The book’s one real weakness stems not from lack of competence but from its accepted canon of evaluation. Macquarrie’s concern is to retain—against encroachments in recent theology—a place for reason in religious understanding. This means for Macquarrie not, as in Brunner, Barth, and their like, the right of reason to exercise itself within a by-faith-accepted divine revelation. Macquarrie insists that this is all too little, and he contends for the right of reason to sift, test, question, and judge the knowledge content of revelation. This rational critique of revelation, according to Macquarrie, must “always” take place “before what is given [in revelation] can be known.”

The current popularity of Barth, Brunner, Cullman, and even Bultmann, is said to stem from their acceptance of an “absolute divine revelation” at the center of theology, which Macquarrie scores as a “returning to a more dogmatic type of theology” and an appeal “to those traditionalist and obscurantist elements in the Church who are only too glad to escape the philosophical problems which contemporary thought poses for the Christian religion.” This reinstatement of an absolute, exclusive, and unique divine revelation at the heart of theology, Macquarrie describes with some passion as an act of “arrogance.”

The author urges that “we must submit it [revelation] to the scrutiny of reason, both theoretical and practical,” and he criticizes Barth and Brunner because, although they “do indeed give a place to reason and philosophy in theology,” they give it “a lowly place which is entirely subordinate to the sovereign word of God.” “In the last resort,” claims Macquarrie, “one is bound to say that the revelation is accepted, after it has been tested in every way, it wins the allegiance of reason and conscience.”

Macquarrie asserts, “We do not think that there is anything in the least impious in our demand that our critical faculties should be directed upon the revelation itself.” Perhaps not. But there is something logically irrational in the attempt to combine his view of the function of critical reason upon revelation with his other views that the knowledge given in revelation is “a gift rather than something that we have gained by our own efforts,” and that “in any revelatory experience, man cannot be other than submissive before the numinous presence.” The experience of knowing God in revelation cannot be both a submissive act of accepting such knowledge as a gift and an experience in which revelation must be sifted, tested, and questioned “before what is given can be known.” This is simply confusion of thought, one which does not lend credence to his insistence that we “must question the revelation itself” to determine whether it really was a “revelation or only an illusion” and that “this questioning must be done by the light of reason and such human wisdom as the man may possess.”

If Macquarrie’s otherwise excellent book demonstrates anything, it is that the theological and philosophical thinking of the last sixty years does anything but suggest that “the light of reason and such human wisdom as (the) man may possess” are equal to the task of finding the truth in a divine revelation which is less than absolute. We may agree with Macquarrie when he resolutely opposes the tendency to undervalue reason (p. 333), but his own book shows the folly of entertaining any hope for a Reason which is not “entirely subordinate to the sovereign word of God.” The only alternatives are either “that the divine revelation puts us in question, so that our attitude must be one of unquestioning acceptance and obedience [which Macquarrie rejects],” or a reason that autonomously behaves in the contradictory, ambiguous fashion his book so clearly portrays as having in fact occurred during the last sixty years.

JAMES DAANE

Meet The Doer

What Jesus Did, by Theodore Parker Ferris (Oxford, 1963, 131 pp., $3.25), is reviewed by John T. Sandlund, minister, River Road United Presbyterian Church, Washington, D. C.

This book is to be commended for the gracious way in which it introduces Jesus as a person one would want to know. The author seeks to do this through the actions of Jesus, rather than His words. As an introduction, however, it leaves conclusions that parts of Scripture are more imaginative than accurate reporting and comment. The author believes that Jesus was God incarnate, but his “exercise in devotion” suggests a Christology below the standards of Anglican doctrine. In spite of this serious deficiency, however, we recognize the practical insights and helps, even from unorthodox observations, of this famed preacher whose gifts and graces are so attractive.

JOHN T. SANDLUND

Not By Drill

Teaching Our Faith in God: Methods and Meaning of Christian Education, by L. Harold DeWolf (Abingdon, 1963, 188 pp., $3.75), is reviewed by D. G. Stewart, professor of Christian education, San Francisco Theological Seminary, San Anselmo, California.

This book is a compilation of several papers and lectures of L. Harold DeWolf, professor of theology at Boston University School of Theology. An introductory chapter defines Christian education as the nurture of the Christian life, of which the central point or “magnetic pole” is God. The goal is “relating the pupil to God in glad, obedient faith” (p. 23)—a departure from contemporary content-centered, group-centered, and church-centered emphases.

The Christian life, DeWolf insists, “cannot be taught by any human teacher” (p. 38) or imposed by drill in characteristic habits and attitudes; it is rather “characterized by faith, that is, the total commitment of self to God” (p. 39). Chapter three contains the sequence of instruction by which this is accomplished, with an insistence on presentation of “the whole faith” at every age level. How the author proposes to accomplish this (pp. 47–54) may seem inadequately demonstrated in the relatively short space he devotes to it.

In chapters four through seven one detects a major aspect of the author’s total thesis, namely, that the doctrine of the triune God is the clue to Christian education. It comprises a corrective for doctrinal distortions on the one hand and an adequate summary of the Bible’s message on the other. The chapter on the Holy Spirit is fresh and contributes a much-needed emphasis in Christian education.

The remaining section of the book is concerned with sin, the Church, the world, and the centrality of Christian education. The closing chapter is interesting to the educational reader as a theologian’s point of view. However, the devotion of only a page and a half to “evangelism” as a subject to which Christian education is related seems emblematic of the confusion in which theological scholars find themselves, notwithstanding the fact that Christian education’s primary concern is interpreted as “relating the pupil to God in glad, obedient faith.”

D. G. STEWART

Two Spades

Archaeology and the Old Testament World, by John Gray (Thomas Nelson, 1962, 256 pp., $6.50; 30s.), and Archaeology and the New Testament, by Merrill F. Unger (Zondervan, 1962, 350 pp., $4.95), are reviewed by Bastiaan Van Elderen, associate professor of New Testament, Calvin Theological Seminary, Grand Rapids, Michigan.

The two books under review present the reader with the contributions of archaeology to a greater understanding of the Bible and its background. However, they diverge considerably in approach to and achievement of this aim. Not only do these two authors deal with two different parts of the Bible, but they proceed from two distinct and opposing attitudes and stances toward the Bible.

John Gray, lecturer at Aberdeen University, is the author of Archaeology and the Old Testament World. His familiarity with the Ancient Near East and scholarly research in Old Testament well qualify him to attempt this reconstruction of Israel’s historical and cultural environment. Through a study of ancient monuments and texts he describes the institutions and social conventions of the Ancient Near East. Gray has a vast knowledge of the field and penetrating insights, and provides a valuable sourcebook for these areas.

Merrill F. Unger, professor at Dallas Theological Seminary, has written Archaeology and the New Testament, a companion volume to his earlier Archaeology and the Old Testament. This volume gives the archaeological, historical, and geographical setting of the narrative portions of the New Testament. Unger begins his presentation with a brief but lucid description of the complicated political situation in Palestine from the time of Alexander the Great to the New Testament period. The succeeding chapters follow the New Testament narrative and amplify these accounts with relevant historical and archaeological data. An amazing amount of material has been marshaled in this way, and the documentation in the footnotes shows extensive reading on the part of the author. On the other hand, this work has somewhat of an eclectic nature and shows a heavy reliance on secondary sources. Actually, some chapters are more up to date than others, but usually the latest sources quoted or evidence cited is dated about 1957—the one major exception being the section on the Gospel of Thomas (pp. 92–94), which appears to be a later addition. However, the bibliography lists books as late as 1961, many of which are not cited in the text.

In his opening chapter Unger sets forth the orthodox opinion on biblical inspiration and expresses his agreement with it: “… the New Testament (as well as the Old) is God-breathed and without error or mistake in the original autographa.… Thus Scripture … is inspired in a unique way. The product itself is accordingly unique and on a different plane from any other writing, sacred or secular” (p. 16). No such statement of presupposition is found in Gray’s work, but one soon becomes aware that Scripture for him is neither unique nor on a different plane from other literature, but must be treated and controlled in the same way as any other body of literature. The exact nature of the authority of Scripture is neither explicit nor implicit in Gray’s work. Consequently, he has no difficulty accepting questionable critical hypotheses, such as the Kenite origin of Yahweh worship (pp. 14 f.), Canaanite prototype of the Feast of Tabernacles (p. 18), eclectic nature of Hebrew ritual, thought, and literature (pp. 42 ff., 82 ff.), unique role of Amos in the political and religious consciousness of Israel (pp. 120, 179). Admittedly, there are progression and development to be noted in the Old Testament, but throughout the account the word and act of God are unique, authoritative, and revelatory.

The presupposition with which Unger begins is commendable. However, the problem arises as to the role of archaeology in terms of this presupposition. Unger answers this as follows: “The role which archaeology is performing in New Testament research (as well as that of Old Testament) in expediting scientific study, balancing critical theory, illustrating, elucidating, supplementing and authenticating historical and cultural backgrounds, constitutes the one bright spot in the future of criticism of the Sacred Oracles” (p. 25). An application of this is seen in the preceding paragraph, where Unger writes: “While difficulties still persist, archaeology has in numerous cases vindicated the New Testament, particularly Luke.” The use of the terms “authentication,” “vindication,” or “confirmation” is questionable. At best, this should be considered a secondary role of archaeology, since Scripture does not require such vindication. Confidence in the trustworthiness and faith in the truth of Scripture do not depend upon or await the results of archaeological and historical research. As a result, sometimes Unger seems to overstate his case—e.g., in connection with the identification of the scene of the demoniac’s healing, he writes: “The Revised Standard Version in Matthew 8:28 correctly connects the ministry of Christ to the demoniac with Gadara, but also anomalously and certainly incorrectly connects it with Gerasa (Jerash) in Mark 5:1 and Luke 8:26 (‘the country of the Gerasenes’)” (p. 141). The RSV is simply reflecting the situation existing in the best manuscripts and surely does not deserve to be impugned in this way, and the evidence hardly warrants Unger’s dogmatic conclusion. The encyclopedic nature of Unger’s work sometimes results in unevenness and mild inconsistency—e.g., on page 22 he refers to the phenomenal discovery of the Bodmer papyri, but in the section beginning on page 331 in which he discusses “more recent New Testament papyri discoveries” he fails to mention these. On page 19 he mentions that there are 63 papyri witnesses to the New Testament text. The first of the biblical papyri in the Bodmer collection (published in 1956) brought this total to 66, and in 1961 P75 appeared in this series (bringing the number to 75). In 1962 the number reached 78 papyri.

In format and quality, Nelson’s publication of Gray’s work is much more attractive than Zondervan’s publication of Unger’s work. The photographic plates which accompany Gray’s text are sharp and clear. The pictures in Unger’s work are usually fuzzy and blurred and perhaps not very helpful. The line drawings, rather well executed, have doubtful value in a work of this nature. However, the end-maps are more useful than the black-and-white maps in Gray’s work. All in all, the quality of workmanship in Unger’s work leaves much to be desired. Typographical errors are rather limited in Gray’s work, but Unger’s is often marred by errors and inconsistent style, especially in the footnotes.

In conclusion, these two works on archaeology and the Bible have limitations which should be recognized—Gray’s as to viewpoint and approach and Unger’s as to workmanship and a tendency to dogmatic finality. In spite of these limitations, these works contain much valuable material and constitute significant contributions to the field.

BASTIAAN VAN ELDEREN

A Case Of Identity

The True Face of the Kirk, by Stuart Louden (Oxford, 1963, 148 pp., $3.40), is reviewed by J. D. Douglas, British editorial director, CHRISTIANITY TODAY.

Based on the 1961 Cunningham Lectures at New College, Edinburgh, this book by the minister of historic Greyfriars sets out to examine “the ethos and traditions of the Church of Scotland.” Every aspect is covered thoroughly, and some strikingly relevant facts emerge. In the chapter on church, state, and community, we learn that “the Church of Scotland can give no countenance to the view that education is a self-sufficient and autonomous sphere of life; for when the State seeks to become completely secular and neutral, it is already in danger of becoming a monster, as in the totalitarian state of the twentieth century.” Discussing worship, Dr. Louden reminds us that “preaching is not a human art but God’s power unto salvation in Jesus Christ, the Living Word. Preaching is not for the glorification of the preacher or listeners, but for the edification of the flock.” Attacks are launched upon the personality cult among ministers, Roman Catholics (whose intrusion into Scotland has helped to “obscure the face of the One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church in the land”), subjective hymns, and the “historic episcopate” as popularly misunderstood. Dr. Louden calls for reexamination of the place of confession and absolution.

Is it an authentic picture of the Kirk? There are some theologically confusing statements here, such as: “The Scottish view is that the society of the baptized is the Church of God in the land.” (Is it even legitimate to speak about “the Scottish view”?) Elsewhere Dr. Louden laments the infrequence of the Apostles’ Creed, as “token of a prevalently inadequate sense of the congregation in worship.” Is this necessarily so? His use of the word “Eucharist” with its suspect associations will raise some Scottish eyebrows. There is also something unreal in his resorting to the Westminster Confession to support particular points: no one who heard the 1962 General Assembly debates or noted its moderator’s pre-assembly utterances will deny that confession’s fading authority in Kirk circles today.

The chief impression left by this work is of an inordinate repetitiveness in parts and a didactic style which make vast demands on the reader’s concentration. In the opening fifteen lines, for example, the words “Ecclesia Scoticana” appear five times; on page 37 “Presbyterian(ism)” occurs fourteen times; and other words or phrases are conspicuously overworked. A surprising number of misspellings and grammatical inaccuracies have crept in, and it should be noted that the space given to appendixes, gathered footnotes, and the index reduces the actual text to 102 pages. The determined reader will nevertheless find this an authoritative and generally reliable volume.

J. D. DOUGLAS

On Saving History

Salvation History, by Eric C. Rust (John Knox, 1963, 325 pp., $6), is reviewed by Merrill C. Tenney, dean of the Graduate School, Wheaton College, Wheaton, Illinois.

The continuity of divine self-revelation in history through the acts of God is the main theme of Dr. Rust’s exposition of Heilsgeschichte for English readers. Beginning with a discussion of the relation of revelation, interpretation, and history, the professor of Christian philosophy at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary formulates a statement of the plan of salvation in cosmic terms: “The incarnation of the Word in Jesus of Nazareth constitutes the center point of a stream of events in which history is being redirected toward the divine purpose and in which man’s misuse of his God-given freedom is being corrected.” He does not accept a literal interpretation of either the Old or the New Testament; he does not, however, dismiss the historical reality of the person of Christ, although he states that the external facts do not disclose the real meaning of Christ. “The historian … cannot unlock the inner secret of Jesus. As historian he will not find the inner side of the life, death and resurrection of the Lord, even though the enigmatic elements will disturb him. A painstaking historical investigation will not bring us nearer to the heart of Heilsgeschichte.”

Although this approach might easily lead to a skeptical abandonment of all historical verity in the statements of Scripture, or to an unrestrained flight into mysticism, Dr. Rust takes neither of these alternatives. He recognizes that “without some emphasis on the historicity of Jesus, our faith lapses into docetism and the gospel becomes an abstract form of universal truths.” Consequently he adheres to the historicity and uniqueness of the Resurrection, and states that Heilsgeschichte is grounded in actual historical events.

In developing the theme of salvation history Dr. Rust lays great emphasis upon the eschatological element in revelation. “In dying, Christ defeated death, for death was robbed of its prey in the resurrection.” In the person of Christ the eschaton, the end, has centered history.

Unlike some expositors Dr. Rust does not dismiss the parousia of Christ as an apocalyptic dream nor dissolve it completely in “realized eschatology.” He indicates that Jesus did not quote directly from the apocalypticists who had written in the inter-Testamental period, but that He uttered independent prophecies. The author recognizes the elements of eschatological expectation: the future return of Christ, the “man of sin,” catastrophic judgment, and a final consummation in which “the redeemed community will be consummated in a redeemed universe.”

Fluid is the best word to describe this book. It does not adopt the extreme of rationalism which would logically follow from its premises of biblical criticism, nor does it accept fully the implications of a grammatico-historical exegesis of inscripturated revelation. It is an attempt to dispense with literalness, and at the same time to conserve the values of an evangelical theology. It is consequently a compromise in which must remain an unstable equilibrium. The rearrangement of the Old Testament narrative and the treatment of much of it as “mythical” (however that term be defined) alters the entire foundation of revelation and the understanding of the plan of God. If the basic facts are uncertain, the conclusions will be equally uncertain.

This book is aimed for scholars, who will enjoy its breadth and its representative treatment of modern New Testament theology, but it is not satisfactorily definitive of the evangelical position.

MERRILL C. TENNEY

Book Briefs

Flames from the Altar, by R. R. Williams (Calvinistic Methodist Book Agency [Caernarvon, England], 1962, 99 pp., 9s. 6d.). The author’s main objective is to refute the common tendency among both American and British writers to regard the Presbyterian Church of Wales as an offshoot of the movement inaugurated by Wesley.

The Empirical Theology of Henry Nelson Wieman, edited by Robert W. Bretall (Macmillan, 1963, 423 pp., $8.50). Nineteen essays by as many authors examine nineteen aspects of the theology of Wieman, who replies to each and supplies his intellectual autobiography. Writers include E. J. Carnell, G. Florovsky, G. Weigel, D. D. Williams, M. Barth. Excellent for the student of Wieman.

Best-Loved Hymn Stories, by Robert Harvey (Zondervan, 1963, 160 pp., $2.50). The stories behind favorite hymns.

God’s Heirs, by Donald Grey Barnhouse (Eerdmans, 1963, 244 pp., $4.50). Expositions of Bible doctrines by the late Dr. Barnhouse, based on Romans 8:1–39. Biblical, solid, instructive.

52 Seed Thoughts for Christian Living, by R. E. O. White (Eerdmans, 1963, 146 pp., $3). These seed thoughts planted in a good mind might bring forth ten- or even twentyfold.

John Calvin’s Teachings on Human Reason, by Leroy Nixon (Exposition, 1963, 276 pp., $6). A historical and philosophical analysis of the role that reason played in the thought of Calvin for the sake of discovering the function it should play in Christian education.

Fundamental Pastoral Counseling, by John R. Cavanagh (Bruce, 1962, 326 pp., $6). Competent and sane; Christian-orientated discussion by a Roman Catholic.

Preaching Week by Week, by David A. MacLennan (Revell, 1963, 158 pp., $3). Ideas for sermon-starters, many without dimension because they are vague and flabby on those cardinal truths which alone give Christianity transcendent character.

The Seasons of Life, by Paul Tournier (Knox, 1963, 63 pp., $2). Sensitive Christian reflections on man’s passage through the seasons of his years, anon imparting refreshment for the one-way journey.

Wooden Chalices, by Kenneth Kuntz (Bethany Press, 1963, 192 pp., $3.50). Short essays on Christian stewardship and its potential for filling life with rich content.

The Word Became Flesh, by E. Stanley Jones (Abingdon, 1963, 382 pp., $2.50). Although the book is devotional in format and content, one theme runs through the whole: why the Word became flesh and not just a word or idea. A reiteration of the basic idea of Jones’s earlier book, The Way.

The Power of Paul, by W. McFerrin Stowe (Abingdon, 1963, 128 pp., $2.50). Haunted by the idea that we ought not to limit the power of God, the author shows how this power transformed Paul’s life. His treatment, however, does not exclude the ideas of giving God a chance, and of a God who waits for us “on tiptoes”—a vein which perhaps accounts for the title.

Preaching to the Contemporary Mind, by Merrill R. Abbey (Abingdon, 1963, 192 pp., $4). An interesting and perceptive discussion about the task of making the sermon meaningful to the hearer.

If I Knew Then, by Debbie Reynolds (Bernard Geis, 1962, 192 pp., $3.95). Debbie is donating her proceeds from this book to charity. Most readers will feel the need for charity as they read this tossed salad of biographical bits, advice to teen-agers on dates and kisses, reflections on morals and religion—all garnished with a bit of sex and pictures of pretty Debbie. Religion apart, her advice is more often sound than profound.

The Pastor and His People, by Edgar N. Jackson (Channel, 1963, 224 pp., $3.50). A “tool” hook to help the congregational pastor deal pastorally with the young, the aged, the bereaved, the child, the shut-in—individually, in groups, and from the pulpit.

Paperbacks

Darwin and the Modern World View, by John C. Greene (New American Library, 1963, 126 pp., $.60). An Iowa State University professor shows how Darwinism gradually changed Protestants and Roman Catholics from a literal view of biblical revelation to a lower view, and argues (contra Darwin) that “scientific truth cannot be meaningful when it denies the reality of the spirit—human or divine.”

Faith Is the Victory, by Buell H. Kazee (Eerdmans, 1963, 181 pp., $1.50; cloth, $2.75). Devotional essays. Sequence follows the experiences of Israel from Egypt to Canaan. Overpriced. First issued in 1951.

Race: Challenge to Religion, symposium edited by Mathew Ahmann (Regnery, 1963, 178 pp., $1.65). Papers delivered at the First National Conference on Religion and Race (Jan., 1963), by Protestants, Roman Catholics, and Jews. Eminently worth reading.

Soul-winning Made Easy, by C. S. Lovett (Personal Christianity [Baldwin Park, Calif.], 1959, 79 pp., $1). A rather naïve, superficial prescription for soul-winning which begins by undercutting the value of preaching, and continues by being intermittently sub-biblical.

The Power of Positive Thinking, by Norman Vincent Peale (Fawcett, 1963, 224 pp., $.60). A first-time appearance in paperback of a book that needs no introduction.

Tell Them in the East (Salvation Army International Headquarters, 1962, 64 pp., 2s.). A very informative book, not only about the extensive work carried on by the Salvation Army, but also about the social, economic, political, and spiritual conditions in which Christians labor in the Orient.

Proclaiming the Parables, by Martin H. Scharlemann (Concordia, 1963, 94 pp. $1.75). Author contends that the parables of Jesus describe the kingdom of God in action, and then interprets five selected parables by this principle.

Christ or Mary?, by Roland H. Seboldt (Concordia, 1963, 60 pp., $.50). A study of the co-redemption of Mary in modern Roman Catholic theology.

The Faith of a Heretic, by Walter Kaufmann (Doubleday, 1963, 414 pp., $1.45). As the title suggests, the book reflects the inversion of both faith and heresy. Under the mandate of honesty the author mercilessly exposes the foibles of modern life and the failures of Christianity in practice. But if beauty is only skin-deep in an anemic, sniveling Christianity, it becomes in the hands of Kaufmann a matter of raw human existence with its entrails hanging out: the tragic becomes great, eternal life unwanted, and death a desirable thing. But even so, the book is exhilarating and rewarding reading. First printed in 1959.

The Lifetime Reading Plan, by Clifton Fadiman (World, 1963, 318 pp., $1.55). A guide to more than 100 books by the great writers of Western civilization, from Homer to Hemingway—one which omits Paul, Calvin, Luther, and many other extremely influential Christian writers. First published in 1960.

Money and the Church, by Luther P. Powell (Association, 1963, 252 pp., $1.50). A fine history of how the Church gets its monies. First published in 1962.

Is gambling a sin? Is it immoral? The definition of sin, from a theological position, this essay leaves to the theologians, and the ultimate value of gambling it leaves to the conscience of the individual. It examines, rather, the nature and result of gambling from the economic viewpoint. This we feel can be of practical help to both theologian and layman in clarifying their personal concepts.

Gambling is a timely topic. Not only is its influence growing on a commercialized scale in our economy, but some political leaders are even proposing a national lottery. Such a lottery, they say, would provide people an opportunity to exercise their “natural” proclivity for gambling. The argument is supposedly strengthened by their advocating that the proceeds be used to reduce the national debt. This is indeed a captivating “package deal,” one that combines legalizing “natural” human inclination with a desired national objective. It almost tempts one to lump G. B. Shaw’s explanation of the popularity of marriage with the adage that two can live as cheaply as one.

Like most other package deals, this one requires careful study. Actually we need to examine only one component, however. We need not debate the desirability of retiring the national debt. If it is a bad thing to retire the debt, then, of course, there is no point in discussing methods. If it is a good thing, then we need to examine carefully the method under consideration. After all, if we were not concerned about means and their short- and long-run effects, we could well justify war, infanticide, or genocide as solutions for overpopulation. This brings us to the issue at hand.

What is gambling? The proponents of legalized or commercialized gambling often say that life itself is a gamble, with its unknowns of birth, marriage, career, and so on. Such an approval, of course, is absurd and arises from inability or unwillingness to conceptualize the idea or define the nature of the process or action. It is here that the economist can be of greatest assistance, for long ago economists differentiated between gambling and other forms of risk-taking. Those who define the natural risks of life as gambles are guilty of “fuzzy” thinking at best, careless or deceptive thinking at worst.

The economist, of course, is mainly concerned with making distinctions as they apply to the economic world or to the business community, but his thinking can be applied consistently to the facets of social life as well. Nowhere does he find compatibility between gambling and the necessary and beneficial risk-taking of economic life, or of social life. The two concepts are not only incompatible but are diametrically opposed and mutually destructive as well.

How does the economist make these distinctions as they apply to the economic world or to the business community? First, he defines gambling as unnatural or artificial risk-taking. In other words, risks are created purely for the purpose of taking the risks; they are not inherent in any economic or business situations. Horses are run, wheels are spun, cards are dealt, coins are flipped, dice are rolled, specifically to flirt with the laws of probability in the hope that the smile of fortune will beam upon the lucky suitor.

But what of the non-gambling forms of risk-taking in the economic world or in the business community? What about the natural or real risks inherent in all economic and business situations? These are generally summed up under the general heading of “speculation.” Now, true “speculation” has often suffered from misconceptions. Speculation is often, one might say, considered an evil or wasteful activity. Nothing could be further from the truth, for only when speculation is associated with deliberate fraud are such adjectives valid. Speculation is someone’s taking a risk which must be taken by someone.

Unfortunately, one can easily be misled into the notion that speculation is evil and wasteful, while regulated and legalized gambling is good and natural. We intend to demonstrate that just the opposite is true when accurate concepts are developed and logical thinking is followed. Let us take a few examples from the economic world to see how such conceptualizing and logical thinking apply. Someone buys a piece of real estate from someone else. It is inherent in the situation that the value of the property will rise, fall, or remain constant. This risk must be borne by someone. If the value rises the buyer may realize a gain; if it falls he loses; if it remains constant he has had the doubtful privilege of tying up his capital in an unproductive investment, plus other doubtful privileges such as paying taxes and looking after the property.

Or take the case of the farmer who plants a crop. Any number of things may work against him before the final harvest is sold, or at a certain stage of growth he may sell the crop in the field and pass the risk remaining on to someone else. Depending upon how much risk he is willing to take and upon how opportunely the situation develops, the farmer tends to lose or gain accordingly. But in order to pursue an activity presumed to benefit himself and his fellowman he must bear some risks. Because of his risk-taking and that of other farmers, people have wheat or cotton, and he and farmers generally have more or less income with which to purchase those necessities and comforts which others, in turn, have taken a risk to produce.

What of the laborer? you say; he takes no risks. Today thousands, perhaps millions of laborers face the loss of jobs in which they have developed skill and gained experience over much of a lifetime. Overnight, automation may render obsolete many of these skills and much of this hard-won knowledge. There are risks, pure economic risks, in going into any kind of a job, profession, or calling. Suppose these laborers had decided to take no risks on any job because of what might happen. How could society have been fed, clothed, or transported until automation? What is more, the risks taken by laborers along with other elements of the economy provided the materials for automation.

Every business enterprise, from its inception to decline, is fraught with innumerable risks, which must be faced from day to day. Dame Fashion is fickle, government unpredictable, competitors ruthless, labor often unreasonable. Machines or products suddenly may become obsolete. Where would we be today if businessmen took no risks? But businessmen, or as we say in economics, “entrepreneurs,” do take risks of unbelievable number in the hope of great gain. And whether they win or lose, a balanced society stands to gain. Any entrepreneur would consider a proposal to create artificial risks for him a demonstration of pure insanity. He has enough risks to last several lifetimes.

The professional speculator does not gamble in any sense of the word. To be sure he pits his skill and knowledge against the inexorable forces of the market as he tries to guess which way the market will move. And he must be right more often than he is wrong in order to succeed in his calling. But in every case of his buying and selling he is undertaking risks that someone else would have to take if he did not do so. In the well-ordered securities and commodity markets and in the money markets of the world this is invariably true. We are not concerned, of course, with the question of fraud, because fraud is not the exclusive opportunity of the speculator; when allowed, it infects every facet of social, political, and economic life. But without going into the technicalities of the matter, which can be studied in many good textbooks, we may say that the professional speculator makes it possible for people in other lines of business and production to hedge. Hedging allows many producers to eliminate the risks of market changes; by taking positions on both sides of the market, they can concentrate their energies on meeting the natural risks of their own particular business without having to speculate in markets for which they have insufficient skill or knowledge. In addition, the professional speculator helps reduce price variations by buying when demand and price are low and selling when supply is low and price is high. Thus he serves a very useful purpose in society: he protects other producers from the vicissitudes of certain markets, thereby encouraging them to go ahead with their production plans. He also provides a measure of order and stability in the markets of the world, thus making possible the carrying on of the world’s business.

The insurance business is not a betting business, as some assert. It is simply a sophisticated and professional method for sharing risks of certain and uncertain events. We know with close approximation how many in a certain age bracket will die by a certain time or how many will live to collect retirement income. We know how many fires or accidents will occur, but not to whom. When one insures against a contingency he is not betting against an insurance company. He is merely using the facilities and services of the company to share his risks with other individuals in like circumstances. Insurance is sharing risks that are inherent in life or economic situations. No competent person would artificially create risks so he could insure against them.

How about some life situations not immediately of economic or business concern? Take Columbus, for example. Didn’t he gamble? Of course not. He took chances, yes. But the reason for his venture was not to take chances. He had an entirely different goal, to look for a new and better sea route to the East. Whether he hoped for profit, glory, or favor with those in high places is irrelevant. He hoped to achieve a certain goal, and the risks were inherent in that goal. He took them. Think of the results as you sit in your soft chair, reading these words, sipping excellent coffee, and listening to the muted pleasant tones of your hi-fi.

Then there are many ordinary life situations. We take risks as we go to work or school, play games, marry, beget children, and so on. But we do not take the risks of going to work, marrying, or begetting children for the sake of taking risks. We are not gambling; we must take these risks in order to get on with our jobs. These jobs must he done if we are to survive and if we are to do the world’s work, pursue our goals, and fulfill our mission as best we know how. Divorce statistics show just one of the many risks of marriage and child-rearing, but we continue to create homes because we feel that the potential rewards of happiness and purpose far outweigh the risks. We allow our children to take the many and often unforeseeable risks of going to school, or going away to school, because we know the need for educating minds and developing bodies. There is even some risk in going to Sunday school on a beautiful Sunday morning!

Think of the risks that the steeplejack and the sandhog take with their lives; if they did not, how many buildings would be built or tunnels dug? Or take the surgeon, the policeman, the judge, the soldier, or the politician. They have many disagreeable tasks to perform. If they did not fulfill them, organized society could not endure, and civilization would perish. Are they gambling when they take the risks inherent in their callings? Of course not. We can safely assume, further, that none will accept any risk not necessary for the achievement of his goal or performance of his task.

One cannot presume to speak for the Creator on such matters. But one can surmise or infer from the observable conditions of life that all of the risks inherent in life are for a purpose. The finite mind can certainly reason that far. What then is the purpose of inherent risk? Perhaps it is intended to develop man’s moral, mental, spiritual, and physical faculties. But one thing is sure: there are enough risks in life to merit using all one’s energies for good, useful, and productive purposes. Is gambling a sin? Is it immoral? Again we leave these answers to the theologian or to the individual conscience. But we hazard a judgment on the matter, nonetheless. To create artificial risks when the Creator has been more than bountiful in providing inherent risks in all the experiences of work, play, and so on, borders on pure lunacy. It would seem that those who create and take artificial risks which produce nothing of value are simply withdrawing from that reality of life where the truly challenging and productive risks abound.—ARNOLD E. BARRETT, associate professor of economics, University of Alabama.

Preacher in the Red¹For each report by a minister of the Gospel of an embarrassing moment in his life, Christianity Today will pay $5 (upon publication). To be acceptable, anecdotes must narrate factually a personal experience, and must be previously unpublished. Contributions should not exceed 250 words, should be typed double-spaced, and bear the writer’s name and address. Upon acceptance, such contributions become the property of Christianity Today. Address letters to: Preacher in the Red, Christianity Today, 1014 Washington Building, Washington 5, D. C.

SCANT COMFORT

In the summer of 1958, I was appointed as assistant minister in a large congregation a few miles from Belfast. On my first pastoral visit, I called with an old lady who had injured her foot on a loose kerb-stone. Fortunately, she saw the amusing side of the picture as I read from Psalm 91, “They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.”

Determined not to repeat such a silly mistake, I chose on my visit to another house to read from Psalm 121. You can imagine my embarrassment when I realized, too late, that I had just read the words, “He shall not suffer thy foot to be moved,” to a man whose foot had recently been amputated.—The Rev. D. H. ALLEN, Coleraine, Northern Ireland.

AN ECUMENICAL FAVOR—A crucifix was placed atop Mt. Everest last month by a Methodist minister, according to Religious News Service. Dr. William F. Unsoeld, one of four climbers who scaled the world’s tallest peak, said he performed the act as a favor to a Jesuit priest from Washington, D. C. Unsoeld, an assistant professor of philosophy and religion at Oregon State University, is now on leave and serving with the Peace Corps in Nepal.

PROTESTANT PANORAMA—Augsburg Theological Seminary of Minneapolis will be merged with Luther Theological Seminary beginning with the fall term. Both schools are affiliated with the American Lutheran Church as a result of the merger of the Lutheran Free Church with the ALC early this year.

American Baptist General Council named a six-member committee to explore merger with the Seventh Day Baptist Convention and the Christian Churches (Disciples of Christ) and to continue talks with the Church of the Brethren. A progress report is due in October.

Duke Divinity School and Candler School of Theology are co-sponsoring an effort to produce an eight-volume critical reference work of the New Testament based on extant Greek texts from Christianity’s earliest days.

Wesleyan Methodist Church is establishing a “Wesleyan Gospel Corps.” Projects may include an exchange-student program, missionary work, and local church efforts. Age span embraces some high schoolers as well as the elderly retired.

Only 6 to 7 per cent of Protestants attend church regularly in the Canton of Geneva, Switzerland, according to a sociological survey conducted by the Protestant Study Center. The year-long inquiry disclosed that divorce and mixed marriages adversely affect church attendance.

“Derry,” a thirty-one-foot diesel fishing boat, sailed from Northern Ireland to the island of Iona off the coast of Scotland this month. The craft is a gift from the Presbyterian Church in Ireland to the Iona Community to encourage youth work and to mark the 1,400th anniversary of St. Columba’s missionary journey to Scotland.

MISCELLANY—Dr. Michael Ramsey, Archbishop of Canterbury, will open the 1963 Canadian National Exhibition in Toronto on August 16. He will be the first clergyman so honored in the eighty-four-year history of the event, largest annual exposition in the world. Ramsey will be in the city for the Anglican Congress.

An experimental secretariat for the National Conference on Religion and Race is being established at 150 Fifth Avenue, New York. The office, under executive secretary Galen Weaver, has been pledged a year’s support from the National Council of Churches, the National Catholic Welfare Conference, and the Synagogue Council of America.

A campaign to raise worldwide Scripture distribution in the next three years to 150,000,000 copies annually—a tripling of the present rate—was launched this month by the Council of United Bible Societies.

Reports from Colombia indicate that another Protestant school in the country’s so-called mission territory was closed in February. The primary school at Yopal, where some 400 children are said to be without any formal educational instruction, was the fourth to be closed for religious reasons within the past year.

Pentecostal Evangel, official weekly organ of the Assemblies of God, will mark its fiftieth anniversary next month. The publication began without denominational affiliation as one of the results of the Pentecostal revival after the turn of the century.

A house trailer which will be the focal point of a spiritual ministry to merchant seamen was dedicated in Toronto last month. The Lutheran Seamen’s Center was begun last year by the Rev. Otto Winter under auspices of the Canadian Lutheran Council and the Eastern Canada Synod of the Lutheran Church in America.

A Senate subcommittee held hearings last month on the “Junior G. I.” bills which would provide federal grants to elementary and secondary school students. Among those who testified in favor of federal aid to parochial schools was Dr. Edwin H. Palmer, theology instructor at Westminster Theological Seminary.

PERSONALIA—Dr. David M. Stowe, secretary for interpretation of the United Church of Christ Board for World Ministries, named executive secretary of the National Council of Churches’ Division of Foreign Missions. He succeeds Dr. Luther A. Gotwald, who is retiring.

Dr. Ralph Elliott appointed visiting lecturer in Old Testament at Crozer Theological Seminary (American Baptist) for 1963–64.

Dr. Orville W. Wake, president of Lynchburg College, will succeed Dr. Wilbur H. Cramblet as president of the Christian Board of Publication when the latter retires next January 31.

Dr. Henry J. Cadbury, noted Bible scholar, retired as professor at Haverford College.

Dr. Edwin H. Rian appointed director of the American Bible Society’s advance program, which will culminate in the observance of the society’s 150th anniversary in 1966.

The Rev. Theophilus J. Herter appointed professor of New Testament at the Theological Seminary of the Reformed Episcopal Church.

The Rev. Marshall Lee Smith censured by the Hudson River (New York) Presbytery for violating his denomination’s constitution in officiating at the remarriage of Governor Nelson Rockefeller.

Dr. James W. Parrish resigned as vice-president of Stetson University to become pastor of the First Baptist Church in Winter Park, Florida.

The Rev. John V. Taylor appointed general secretary of the Church Missionary Society.

The Rev. Elirehema Mwanga elected president of the Usambara-Digo Lutheran Church, the fourth of seven Lutheran bodies in Tanganyika to choose an African as its leader.

R. Sargent Shriver, director of the Peace Corps, named Layman of the Year by Religious Heritage of America, Inc. Mrs. Moses P. Epstein, noted Zionist leader, chosen Lay Woman of the Year. The group’s Faith and Freedom Award in Journalism will go to Robert Whitaker, religion editor of the Providence Journal-Bulletin. Miss Jacqueline Jeanne Mayer, Miss America of 1963, will receive the Religious Heritage Youth Award.

David J. Hildreth named 1963 “Endeavorer of the Year” by the International Society of Christian Endeavor.

WORTH QUOTING—“There has been much speculation about the reaction of the public to Governor Rockefeller’s divorce and remarriage.… The issue is not what one thinks about marriage after divorce.… The issue is actually a much more clear-cut moral principle, which is enshrined in the Ten Commandments: Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife. Perhaps the whole idea of this particular marriage did not occur to either participant until they were both legally free, but appearances are to the contrary.”—The Living Church.

“We must face the fact that something is wrong in America when our country moves steadily toward materialism and paganism in the face of an active and vigorous church life.”—Dr. Roy G. Ross, retiring general secretary of the National Council of Churches.

Deaths

POPE JOHN XXIII, 81, supreme Roman pontiff; on June 3; at the Vatican Palace.

THE REV. WILLIAM E. SWEENEY, 85, former president of the North American Convention of Christian Churches; in Lexington, Kentucky.

THE REV. ROBERT L. TUCKER, 73, noted Methodist pastor; in Westfield, Massachusetts.

FRANK E. BURKHALTER, 83, former publicity director for the Southern Baptist Convention; in Waco, Texas.

LOUIS LIPSKY, 86, noted Zionist leader and a founder of the American Jewish Congress; in New York.