The Synoptic Problem: A Critical Analysis, by William R. Farmer (Macmillan, 1964, 308 pp., $10), is reviewed by John H. Ludlum, minister, The Community Church on Hudson Avenue (Reformed Church in America), Englewood, New Jersey.
Dr. Farmer’s knowledge makes him the world’s leading authority on modern criticism of the Synoptic Gospels. The first five chapters of his book comprise one of the most Herculean labors of digging out knowledge in the annals of scholarship. This reviewer can independently attest the solidness of the results. When knowledge is lacking, reasoning can only darken counsel by words without knowledge. Dr. Farmer’s reasoning, being founded on his superior acquisition of information, compares favorably with any we have seen.
Librarians will wish to obtain this work because it contains information on the origin and development of critical science nowhere else available. It has masses of new factual information. Much that had been forgotten or lost with damaging consequences has been recovered and set forth in a new light. The book is a library in itself. Future study will center around it as scholars oppose or embrace its conclusions and suggestions.
Dr. Farmer’s examination of the history of modern gospel criticism demonstrates that the two-document theory (priority of Mark and existence of “Q”) at no time had a valid foundation, and that the scholarly consensus favoring it was always an illusion. Indisputable facts—knowledge—make these things clear and leave the two-document theory as discredited as the Piltdown Man.
Teachers in seminaries and colleges will wish to get this book and decide how they are going to answer it, before their students and faculty colleagues begin using it to tear them to shreds! On guard! Much can be saved by jumping off a sinking ship quickly! Everything in Synoptic criticism has been rendered uncertain. Gospel studies may now enjoy an academic field day in this newly created vacuum as grand as that which the Dead Sea discoveries made possible. New interpretations can be proposed and contended for once more. Glory beckons! Fear not! All the lions are lying on The field—dead!
As a sociological study this book poses a good question: namely, how was it possible for so many to have been so wrong about so much so often and for so long, while the whole world stood hailing them as great scholars? Dr. Farmer has demonstrated the reality of this particular blind-leading-blind parade and has offered excellent answers for learned men to take to heart. He is to be congratulated for having so often called a spade a spade.
In chapters 6 and 7, Dr. Farmer proposes a solution of the Synoptic problem; but he does so without first vindicating a right to offer the kind of answer he suggests. A whole chapter is missing between chapters 5 and 6. It is first necessary to make out a convincing case against the authenticity of Matthew, Mark, and Luke, before one has a right to assume that unknown editors in the second and third Christian generations picked up a mass of traditions full of fiction and myths and wove them together into our Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Dr. Farmer has reduced to ashes everything that was thought to disprove the authenticity of these Gospels. Hence, nobody, himself included, can have any right to use form-critical principles and evolutionary assumptions until he has first vindicated a right to use them by establishing a new, convincing case against the genuineness of these documents.
Dr. Farmer’s suggestions are thought-provoking. He avowedly strives to re-establish Griesbach’s theory that Mark was written last. His arguments convinced this reviewer that Mark was written second, rather than last. This suggests the shape of things to come. The result of overthrowing the two-document theory is to leave uncontested the claim that Matthew was written first. This forces future debate to deal with a simple question, namely, whether Luke was second and Mark third, or Mark second and Luke third. The next great battle of the books will fight out this issue. Cases for each view will be forged out and expressed as cogently as possible, and will be attacked violently. Griesbach’s theory will receive a second look and a new sifting. More important still, the idea that Mark was second, which has never yet been strongly stated or fairly tried, will be defined and sifted. The more these two views are argued the better, because the question, thus narrowed, is well on its way to final settlement.
Before this reviewer assumes that Matthew, Mark, and Luke are not authentic, and before he uses lines of reasoning based on such an assumption, he is going to insist on seeing a convincing argument for this. It is written: Show me first your penny! The “penny” he will insist on seeing is that missing chapter that was mentioned. He hopes that others will see the necessity for insisting on seeing the same penny. After all, it is only a matter of the most elementary fairness to the Gospels, and of scholarly integrity in not prejudging the only important questions at issue in this whole business! Others may not see this; he does. Why should he put out his eyes?
The People’S Theologian
John Wesley, edited by Albert C. Outler, from “A Library of Protestant Thought” series (Oxford, 1964, 516 pp., $7.50), is reviewed by John Lawson, associate professor of church history, Candler School of Theology, Emory University, Atlanta, Georgia.
This magnificent book, which I have read with great admiration, is a collection of substantial extracts from Wesley’s Journal, Sermons, “Minutes,” Letters, and Treatises, arranged with short but very discerning and scholarly introductions by the editor. The whole is an account of the background and development of Wesley’s thought, and of his position on saving faith, justification, assurance, holiness, and the Church and sacraments. A final section entitled “Theologies in Conflict” shows with what care Wesley repelled the menace of quietism and antinomianism.
The first thing we observe, as Dr. Outler well points out on page 119, is that John Wesley was “by talent and intent a folk-theologian.” His care is not for systematic theology as such but for the spiritual welfare and discipline of his Societies. These writings are all addressed to practical situations. In this Wesley is an essential Englishman, for this has ever been the characteristic method of English Christianity. The Church of England has been adorned by many scholars, but her ideal has always been an educated ministry rather than a learned ministry. Her memorable writings have been her liturgy, and works of devotion, polity, pastoralia, and sermons. My country has never found the inclination to produce an “Institutes of the Christian Religion.” Wesley is decidedly in this track!
The alternative method, characteristic of academic Continental theologians, is devastatingly illustrated today. Since the Reformation this has been to take up a stimulating new idea, express it in an extreme form, make a system out of it, found a school of thought, and stir up doctrinal controversy. These writers naturally fill the pages of textbooks of historical theology and steal all the limelight today! We need to be reminded by a man like Wesley that extreme Christian positions are usually partial and erroneous, and that the everlasting question for the truly judicious theologian, as for the wise preacher, is not “Is it new?” but “Is it true?”
Dr. Outler’s judicious and representative selections and his own notes raise the question: “Was Wesley, the folk-theologian, a Christian thinker?” In the judgment of the present reviewer, at least, the “Arminian evangelicalism” of the Wesleyan movement was a liberating doctrinal synthesis, which since Wesley’s time has been immensely influential in the Church. In this sense Wesley is a Christian thinker. Yet we judge that this doctrine, the leading heritage of Methodism, was not new. It is a strong doctrine of sin and of salvation by grace; yet it is shorn of Augustinian speculation. This is a return to the early patristic position.
Dr. Outler brings this point out in another way. We may ask: “Was Wesley a Protestant thinker?” Certainly he was, but not altogether a Protestant like the classic Protestants. Insofar as the Church of England is both Catholic and Protestant and contains elements derived from Luther and Calvin, the great Reformers have an influence on Wesley. Yet it is only this indirect one. The formative influence upon him was the Church of England, hanging upon the threefold cord of Scripture, the tradition of the ancient and undivided Church, and reason. Thus his doctrine of holiness was largely inspired by the ancient Fathers. His main practical interest in Luther’s writings was to guard some passages from being misunderstood in a quietist sense, while his controversy with what often passed in those times as “Calvinism” was to guard the faith still more abundantly against “Satan’s masterpiece” of antinomianism.
This splendid book reveals the authentic Wesley—the old-school high-church man turned evangelist. It will be read with great profit by all evangelicals, Methodist and non-Methodist.
No Substitute For Holiness
The Paul Report Considered: Thirteen Studies, edited by G. E. Duffield (Marcham Manor Press, 1964, 94 pp., 7s. 6d.), is reviewed by R. Peter Johnston, vicar of Islington and president of the Islington Clerical Conference, London, England.
In July, 1960, a motion was made in the Church Assembly of the Church of England “that a Commission be appointed to consider, in the light of changing circumstances, the system of the payment and deployment of the clergy, and to make recommendations.” After a vigorous debate this proposal was approved, except that the task was assigned to the newly reconstituted Central Advisory Council for the Ministry (CACTM). Mr. Leslie Paul, a distinguished author and sociologist, was appointed to carry out a fact-finding inquiry and to submit a report. In November, 1963, this report was published.
A preliminary “Study of the Paul Report” was submitted to the Church Assembly in February of this year. In a packed house a full and at times heated debate took place. The value of the survey of the present situation in the Church of England that Mr. Paul had presented was readily acknowledged; but many of the conclusions he had drawn were challenged. It was obvious that, although some enthusiastically welcomed the report and saw in its recommendations (there are sixty-two of them!) the solution for all our ills, there were many who considered that some of the suggested reforms would be disastrous for the spiritual life of both the church and the nation.
In The Paul Report Considered we have a series of appraisals from people of differing backgrounds and churchmanship, all of whom have made their mark in their several spheres. The thirteen contributors vary in their reactions. Some are violently antagonistic to the report. Dr. Margaret Hewitt makes some stringent criticisms as a sociologist. Mr. Bulmer Thomas claims that “the diagnosis is wrong and the remedy would kill the patient.”
Canon Davies severely criticizes the abolition of the present system of patronage (by which the choice of a minister is not made by the congregation), which is advocated by Mr. Paul. In place of this system the report recommends that staffing boards be set up on a regional basis with a central directorate to act as a planning body. But, points out Canon Davies, “the chief danger of any general policy for patronage in England would lie in its encouragement of an accommodating type of incumbent, afraid of being conspicuous by not ‘toeing the current line.’ Those with strong convictions, and the more vigorous personalities, would be regarded as dangerous, and be placed in positions where they could do little harm.” Bishop Barry warmly welcomes “Mr. Paul’s proposal to abolish the stubborn, invidious distinction between the beneficed clergy and the unbeneficed, and put them all on the same financial basis.” Yet concerning patronage he says: “I hope this group of proposals will be dropped.”
Both Dr. Hewitt and the Rev. Edgar Stride (vicar of a large industrial parish) point out that a major flaw in Mr. Paul’s report is his almost complete ignoring of the existence of other Christian bodies, especially the free churches. In discussing the deployment of the clergy he seems to think that there are no ministers outside the Anglican church.
Richard Allen has some salutary things to say in his chapter on team and group ministries. He pinpoints some of the difficulties and warns us that the report “is not a panacea for all ecclesiastical ills: empty churches will not fill overnight, money will not flow to the coffers.”
As in any symposium, the contributions are of varying value. But the book is very useful and clearly sets before us the danger of blindly accepting all the recommendations made by Mr. Leslie Paul. Far more important than any attempt at reorganization is the need for spiritual renewal.
In the opening chapter, the Bishop of Pontefract puts it thus: “The fundamental problem confronting the Church of England is for the increase in holiness of her ministry, and through the ministry, the whole people of God, that the Church may the better manifest the love of God. Payment and deployment need not be incompatible with this, but God forbid that they should ever come to be thought of as substitutes for the deeper qualities of the spiritual life of the Church.”
R. PETER JOHNSTON
There Ought To Be A Law
Ethics and Science, by Henry Margenau (Van Nostrand, 1964, 302 pp., $7.50), is reviewed by Gordon H. Clark, professor of philosophy, Butler University, Indianapolis, Indiana.
Dr. Margenau, competent author of The Nature of Physical Reality and with Lindsay of Foundations of Physics, attempts here to provide a scientific basis for ethics. The first chapter presupposes a fair knowledge of the earlier books and is not designed for beginners.
After this account of the nature of postulation in physics, Margenau argues that the same general procedure can be used to solve the problems of ethics. This, in his opinion, is not to say that norms or the concept of “ought” can be derived from what “is.” Ethics cannot be reduced to physics, but it has the same structure.
Postulates in physics are tentative: the scientist must always be ready to revise them. So too the norms of ethics: there are no norms applicable to all men at all times. Each is to be used so long as it works.
This means of course that ethics is not based on religion. There may be connections between them, or there may be none. Either way, “ethics can stand on its own feet” (p. 149).
Margenau’s observations on religion lead one to doubt that his competence in physics has been transferred to this different field. For one thing, he dates Hammurabi a thousand years after Moses, and Zoroaster a thousand years after Hammurabi (p. 153). Similarly questionable are both his history and his argument that hedonism is refuted by the fact that Moses and Martin Luther were ascetics. He also seizes upon First Corinthians 13 as the sum of Christian morality, ignores the rest of the New Testament, and then complains that love is insufficient for the elaboration of an ethical system (pp. 242–47).
What seems to be a serious flaw in his ethics is his assertion that ethical conflicts are infrequent and unimportant (pp. 266 ff.); that Western democracy and Russian Communism share the same values; that the different values postulated by Hitler did not work since he was defeated, whereas the defeat of ethical nations by brutal conquerors does not invalidate their ideals.
In any case, even if there are fundamental conflicts in ethics, it means no more than the existence of conflicting geometries. “It makes little difference whether you choose as the source of your imperatives the Sermon on the Mount, the Koran, the Analects of Confucius, the eightfold path of the Buddha, or the Tao” (p. 293). And “behavior can differ intrinsically among people because of different choices of imperatives and primary values. There is no obvious reason to suppose that several of these, which differ to the point of contradiction, may not be validated in human living. If this is true, there are several sets of ‘oughts’ between which there can be no reconciliation” (p. 284).
Such is his scientific solution to the problems of ethics.
GORDON H. CLARK
The Wheat And The Chaff
Inspiration of Scripture, by Hugh Martin and R. Bremner (Free Presbyterian Church of Scotland, Publications Committee, 1964, 219 pp., 21s.), is reviewed by Murdo A. MacLeod, minister, Free Church of Scotland, London.
If the writer of Ecclesiastes were living today, he might have altered his famous remark on the making of books to read, “Of the reissuing of books there is no end.” The eras most favored for this treatment are the Puritan and the Victorian. In reviewing another such reissue, one may be forgiven for making a general criticism of this trend by reissuing the wise words of a writer of the same period: “The literature of one century, whether sacred or profane, will not, when served up in the lump, satisfy the craving and sustain the life of another. The nineteenth [now read, the twentieth] century must produce its own literature, as it raises its own corn, and fabricates its own garments. The intellectual and spiritual treasures of the past should indeed be reverently preserved and used; but they should be used as seed.”
Of the 219 pages in the present volume, only 30 are really worthy of resurrection; these are the section containing Martin’s original booklet, “The Westminster Doctrine.” Here we have the doctrine of the Confession of Faith clearly and cogently set out. Its teaching is first guarded against misapprehension, and then the line of proof is briefly indicated. Martin states that his purpose is not to compose a treatise but merely to give some hints. Within these limits the discussion still has its value and is well worth the attention of all who wish to know what the Westminster Confession teaches, and what it does not.
Without doubt there is much that is profitable in the rest of the volume; but it is so immersed in “old forgotten far-off things, and battles long ago” that to sift the wheat from the chaff of the historical controversy is more than the labor may be worth.
MURDO A. MACLEOD
Theology In The University
Theology and the University, edited by John Coulson (Helicon, 1964, 286 pp., $4.95), is reviewed by Calvin D. Linton, dean, College of Arts and Sciences, George Washington University, Washington, D. C.
Higher education has come—or gone—a long way since the term universitas denoted an association of students, later joined by a company of masters, in Bologna and Paris in the thirteenth century. Everyone is aware of the central, even dominating, place of theology in the medieval universities; but not everyone remembers that the universities maintained some degree of academic authority of their own, as symbolized in the movement of students in Paris to the rive gauche to avoid the jurisdiction of the Chancellor of the Cathedral, a movement carrying the support of Pope Gregory IX.
From that day to this, the place of theology in the colleges and universities of Europe and America (with the exception of the Roman Catholic institutions) has dwindled until, in the minds of many, a department of religion is seen as almost an anachronism in a modern, secular, scientifically oriented university. The change is, of course, matched by an equal secularization of life at large, with immense advances in technology and (in the opinion of many) a proportionate loss of values and moral stability. At the very least it may be said that the increase in human well-being and happiness has not been in direct ratio to the multiplication of information and power in the past hundred years or so.
Consequently, as all are aware, there is today a growing movement to foster the growth of “religion” among the academic disciplines, not perhaps as the “queen of sciences,” but as a legitimate area of intellectual study and research. The effort stems partly from the ecumenical movement and the improved dialogue between the Protestant denominations and the Roman church.
This collection of essays grows out of such an ecumenical concern. More specifically, it emerges from a series of meetings of priests and laymen of the Roman Catholic Church in England, assembling since 1952 regularly at Downside Abbey. Its theme is clearly stated: “Theology can choose; it can remain dead and neglected, or take the pressure of the times and live; but if it chooses life it has need of three things: a university setting, lay participation and the ecumenical dialogue.”
Contributors represent the Protestant viewpoint as well as the Roman, and no editorial position is imposed on a free and diverse expression of opinion. As a consequence, the excellence of the volume is more apparent in the quality of its individual essays than in the unity of its message.
A major problem obviously confronting those trying to reinstate theology in college and university studies is that of finding a balance between free inquiry and authoritarianism. In secular American universities, “religion” is often indistinguishable from “philosophy” or cultural anthropology. The Roman Catholic attitude toward this is clear: “There is no adult knowledge of religion when everything is put on the same level: in the bible, the central truth of original sin and the apple of Eve; … the primacy of the Pope as instituted by Christ and the different juridical structures in which this primacy has found its concrete and historically adapted expression, which it will continue to find until the end of time.” So writes Jesuit Peter Fransen of the University of Innsbruck. But, writes Daniel Callahan, associate editor of the Commonweal, reflecting a growing attitude among Roman Catholics in America: “… the traditional American Catholic university approach to theology and philosophy has had some disastrous consequence on Catholic intellectual life.” Anglican Alan Richardson, professor of theology at the University of Nottingham and dean-designate of York, writes: “The pursuit of truth, including theological truth, requires … a free community of scholars for its furtherance.” Scottish Presbyterian J. K. S. Reid of the University of Aberdeen deplores the “seminarization” of theology, and identifies two needs: “There is need for theology to be readily available to all university students—not so much the contents of theology as its methodology as a valid mode of apprehension of truth; and … it is needful that such a discipline should be fully decloistered so that both those who read and those who profess it should be in touch with cognate disciplines.…”
No scattering of quotes, however, can give a fair idea of the breadth or challenging nature of the essays. The context, true, is largely that of the European university; but the academic climate of the Western world is not nearly so diversified as it was a few decades ago, and I know of no better book than this to give the inquiring reader a stimulating introduction to the basic issue involved in this crucial question of the place of theology in higher education.
CALVIN D. LINTON
Freedom Is A Triangle
To Resist or To Surrender?, by Paul Tournier, translated by John S. Gilmour (John Knox, 1964, 63 pp., $2), is reviewed by Earl Jabay, chaplain, New Jersey Neuro-Psychiatric Institute, Princeton.
This little volume is a study of dilemma in human experience. Many people have struggled with this subject, but few have brought to it such wisdom and knowledge as I find in this book by Dr. Paul Tournier. He knows his way around in the spiritual world of persons.
A dilemma, the author points out, confronts us with the need to make a choice. Since we are “deciding creatures” (Jaspers), we are immediately concerned to know how much freedom man really possesses as he stands before his dilemmas.
This amount of freedom depends, according to Dr. Tournier, on how much a man has succeeded in passing beyond his automatic impulses, the conditioning of his environment, and the restrictions of logical reasoning. These factors are not to be discounted, but for the solution of dilemmas we need to enter the world of true freedom—the world of persons who are in dialogue.
The dialogue should be triangular. God is the First Person, and from him we may count, if it is his will, upon direct inspiration. But what if God is silent? What if our prayers go unanswered and his Word gives no light? Most probably we are then asking the wrong questions, or rigidly refusing to make the inner changes in our lives that will alter the dilemma. If one’s attitudes can change through the meaningful encounter of persons, the question of resistance or surrender to other persons usually yields to a totally new and acceptable solution.
Dr. Tournier is a psychiatrist of special distinction. He would go out of business if his God were left out of his practice. This wise little book illustrates that fact.
They Speak with Other Tongues, by John L. Sherrill (McGraw-Hill, 1964, 165 pp., $4.50), is reviewed by Harold Lindsell, associate editor, CHRISTIANITY TODAY.
The air is filled with strange sounds emitted by Pentecostalists, Lutherans, Episcopalians, Baptists, and Presbyterians. They are speaking in tongues, a phenomenon that has invaded the churches everywhere. It is of this that Mr. Sherrill writes.
The book has a threefold emphasis: historically, the author traces the rise of the tongues movement in America; biblically, he establishes an apologetic for tongues from the Scriptures; autobiographically, he recounts his own spiritual pilgrimage from unbelief to belief and thence to the exercise of this charismatic gift.
Sherrill has gone to great lengths to gather his facts, separate wheat from chaff, and establish a credible brief to support the tongues phenomenon. He has succeeded in his effort, for however much one is convinced that some aspects of the tongues movement are spurious, one cannot escape the conclusion that there is also much in it that is genuine. The story is well told, the approach is irenic, and the conclusions are well stated. Anyone interested in tongues would do well to read this fascinating account.
Two interesting items stand out in the mind of the reviewer. First, the oddity of a statement made by the author, who was raised in a theological seminary professor’s home (Union of New York) and educated in a Presbyterian college: while facing serious surgery he heard a sermon on Nicodemus that a man must be born again, and about this he says: “All this meant less than nothing to me.” Second, his name-dropping: Billy Graham, the Norman Vincent Peales, Harald Bredesen, John Mackay, Catherine Marshall, Frank Laubach, Henry Pitney Van Dusen, and others.
This Side of Eden, by Elam Davies (Revell, 1964, 128 pp., $2.95). Good religious essays on life’s basic issues; the language is crisp, the style invigorating.
Hymns Today and Tomorrow, by Erik Routley (Abingdon, 1964, 205 pp., §4.50). A critical and provocative study of American and English hymnbooks by a recognized authority on hymnody. The author shows that he belongs to that school of modern theological thought that is much concerned whether “up” means “up” in the Ascension.
Once Upon a Christmas Time, by Thyra Ferré Bjorn (Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1964, 92 pp., $2.95). A warm, homey account of Christmases spent in the author’s native Swedish Lapland.
The Christian in Politics, by Walter James (Oxford, 1962, 216 pp., $5). A competent and searching analysis of attitudes of Christians toward politics in early, medieval, and modern times, with special attention given to certain Christian politicians in Britain, such as Wilberforce, Gladstone, and Cripps. The author stresses the wide diversity of Christian opinion, the difficulty of many political choices, the impossibility of institutionalizing love—yet the necessity for Christians to take an active part in politics. Supernatural standards may be unrealizable, says the author, but to declare they have no influence upon politics is wrong.
Unity in Freedom: Reflections on the Human Family, by Augustin Cardinal Bea (Harper & Row, 1964, 272 pp., $5). The president of the Vatican Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity speaks about unity to the Christian, and to the whole human family.
Pilgrim’s Progress in Modern English, by John Bunyan, retold by James H. Thomas (Moody, 1964, 256 pp., $3.95). A somewhat abbreviated version in modern English for those who found the early version long and sticky.
God’s Encounter with Man: A Contemporary Approach to Prayer, by Maurice Nedoncelle (Sheed & Ward, 1964, 183 pp., $3.95). A study of prayer by a Roman Catholic that begins with an analysis of “prayer” as it occurs between man and man.
It Took a Miracle, by Herbert L. Bowdoin (Revell, 1964, 126 pp., $2.50). The story of Ford Philpot, onetime white-collar drunk, now America’s beloved TV evangelist.
The Living Story of the Old Testament, by Walter Russell Bowie (Prentice-Hall, 1964, 214 pp., $4.95). The Old Testament story told on the bias of a profoundly non-Old Testament view of revelation.
Three Essays: Leonardo, Descartes, Max Weber, by Karl Jaspers (Harcourt, Brace and World, 1964, 274 pp., $4.95). The only three essays written by existentialist Jaspers.
That Incredible Christian, by A. W. Tozer (Christian Publications, 1964, 137 pp., $3). Interesting, readable essays, most of which appeared as editorials in the Alliance Witness, of which the author was once editor.
The Local Church in Transition: Theology, Education, and Ministry, by Gerald H. Slusser (Westminster, 1964. 204 pp., $4.75). In the author’s words: “There are two foundations for theology: the Biblical expressions of faith and the witness of the Holy Spirit in the life of the man of faith today, here and now. A living theology for today will have to be forged in dialogue with God’s whole people … at the level of the local church.… Theology as the proclamation of saving facts … is wrong because it fails to understand that faith is the dynamic of life and that the church is a body constituted solely by faith in God.” Thus the Bible and its recorded redemptive history is displaced by the Church’s day-to-day faith and experience. The author’s Church is indeed in transition. It is moving into the place of objective revelation.
The Word of God and Modern Man, by Emil Brunner, translated by David Cairns (John Knox, 1964, 87 pp., $1.50). First published as Das Wort Gottes and der moderne Mensch in 1947.
Agostino Cardinal Bea, by Bernard I. Leeming, S. J., from the “Men Who Make the Council” series (University of Notre Dame, 1964. 48 pp., $.75). A brief biography of the “cardinal of unity.”
The Problem of the Historical Jesus, by Joachim Jeremias (Fortress, 1964, 28 pp., $.75).
The Sacrifice of Christ, by C. F. D. Moule (Fortress, 1964, 48 pp., $.75). Treats the relation between Christ’s once-for-all sacrifice and those of the New Testament Church.
The Word Is Truth: The Biblical Doctrine of Inspiration, by Edward J. Young (Eerdmans, 1964, 287 pp., $2.25). A forthright defense of the Bible as the infallible and inerrant Word of God, with explanations of apparent contradictions, based on the evidence of the Bible itself, and a pointed refutation of some modern theories that reject a verbally inspired Bible. First published in 1957.
The Legends of Genesis, by Hermann Gunkel (Schocken Books, 1964, 78 pp., $1.75). This is the opening of Gunkel’s monumental Commentary on Genesis. First published in 1901.
Minorities in the New World, by Charles Wagley and Marvin Harris (Columbia University Press, 1964, 320 pp., $1.95). Prepared for UNESCO by social scientists of five countries.
Guidelines for Family Worship, by Anna Lee Carlton (Warner, 1964. 103 pp., $1.50). Just what the title claims.
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