Reading, Writing, and a Way of Life

God’s Choice: The Total World of a Fundamentalist Christian School, by Alan Peshkin (Univ. of Chicago Press, 1986, 349 pp.; $24.95, cloth). Reviewed by Paul F. Parsons, R. M. Seaton Associate Professor of Journalism and Mass Communications, Kansas State University, and author of the forthcoming book Inside America’s Christian Schools.

More than one million schoolchildren in the United States attend Christian schools—by far the fastest-growing segment in public or private education today. Yet few studies have examined this educational phenomenon.

Alan Peshkin, a professor of education at the University of Illinois, spent 18 months inside a fundamentalist Christian school that he calls “Bethany Baptist Academy.” Bethany, though, is more than a school; it is the educational arm of a way of life. Students do not don the robes of spirituality during school hours, only to shed them when the bell rings. They live in an adolescent culture that bans rock music, dancing, smoking, movie going, and dating non-Christians. It is a world where God directly intervenes in both the magnificent and the mundane affairs of men. Bethany serves as part of the triad of home, church, and school. They all have the same norms, and these norms become the students’ norms.

An Outside Observer

Peshkin became an observer and a participant in Bethany’s world by living in the home of church members, attending all church services, and by interviewing students, parents, and educators at length. His intimate research has fashioned a rich and sensitive account of a single fundamentalist school.

What adds drama to this story is that Peshkin is Jewish. He weaves within this chronicle of a Christian school his own realization of being an outsider to the faith. He became the focus of repeated proselytizing efforts, especially by teachers. But he left as he had come, saying, “We are worlds apart, Bethany and I. I say this neither sadly nor defiantly. It’s just the way things are. If they are right—and I do not think they are—then I am forever doomed.” Yet amid such theological differences, Peshkin writes with true affection for the people of Bethany.

Peshkin found Bethany to be a good school in conventional terms, using such criteria as standardized test scores, the assigning of homework, an orderly school climate conducive to learning, and expectations of high student achievement. He said Bethany’s students are “fun-loving, enthusiastic, warm and friendly” and are not, as Christian school critics sometimes suggest, “mindless youth, frozen into routines, beliefs and behavior patterns that control them as though they were machines.” Peshkin said the teachers exemplify hard work and caring. “They do indeed teach as though teaching were their calling,” he writes. “We public school parents rejoice when our children encounter such teachers. To think what it [would] be like to have an entire school of such teachers and administrators!”

Also reviewed in this section:

A Tale of Two Churches: Can Protestants and Catholics Get Together?by George Carey

A Closer Look at Catholicism: A Guide for Protestants,by Bob Moran, CSP

Francis Schaeffer: Portraits of the Man and His Work,edited by Lane Dennis

Reflections on Francis Schaeffer,edited by Ronald Ruegsegger

Pro-Life/Pro-Peace: Life-Affirming Alternatives to Abortion, War, Mercy Killing, and the Death Penalty,by Lowell O. Erdahl

The Absolute Truth

But their absolute certainty is too much for Peshkin. Impressed with Bethany’s commitment to the faith, he balks at their claim of unequivocally knowing Truth. This absolutism allowed Bethany’s teachers to provide answers when public school teachers would shrug with uncertainty. For example: “Why don’t the parts of an atom fly apart? Because God holds all things together.”

Bethany does not foster a Jeffersonian marketplace of ideas. At Bethany, education is acquiring a known Truth, not searching for it. Education is an intellectual transfer rather than an intellectual quest. Choice, doubt, suspended judgment, and dissent are excluded from Bethany’s pedagogical arsenal. This is where Peshkin parts ways with Bethany’s world. “I do not see students learning that dissent and compromise are critical attributes of healthy democracies, rather than unwelcome guests in the house of orthodoxy,” he writes.

Yet Peshkin concludes that fundamentalist schools serve well the ends of the community they serve, even though they contribute to a paradox of pluralism. After all, to the extent that these schools exist and prosper, they testify to the well-being of our pluralistic society. But since their monolithic beliefs preclude their support of pluralism, they undermine the principle that guarantees their very existence. “Espousing pluralism is not functional to the cause of their monolithic Truth,” Peshkin says. “Rather than tussle with the dilemmas produced by the acceptance of both pluralism and absolute, universal truth, they leave the principle of pluralism as an abstraction, one that is literally overwhelmed by their Truth and its ramifications.”

A Russian In The Pentagon

Some may conveniently dismiss Peshkin’s conclusions because he is Jewish, as did one principal who refused Peshkin admittance to his school by saying, “You’re like a Russian who says he wants to attend meetings at the Pentagon—just to learn.… No matter how good a person you are, you will misrepresent my school because you don’t have the Holy Spirit in you. First become a child of the King, and then you can pursue your study of Christian schools.”

Based on my visits to Christian schools in 60 cities, I find Peshkin’s observations to be remarkably representative of the segment of Christian schools in this nation that operate, like Bethany, as islands of absolutism. Many other Christian schools approach the development of the intellect with less absolutism. In merging man’s knowledge with God’s wisdom, they seek to develop thoughtful persons who will be able to seek their own revelation from God. Peshkin’s book, then, does not represent all—or even most—Christian schools. But he makes reasoned observations about the role of education in our society and offers an intriguing outsider’s perspective of not just a single fundamentalist school, but of the philosophy behind it as well.

A Tale of Two Churches: Can Protestants and Catholics Get Together? by George Carey (InterVarsity Press, 1985, 172 pp.; $5.95, softcover). Reviewed by David Neff.

Several years ago, two Roman Catholics, two Episcopalians, two Lutherans, two Plymouth Brethren, and one Presbyterian gathered in my living room to discuss the Lord’s Supper. The occasion was the publication of Communion: The Meal that Unites? by Harold Shaw publishers—an unlikely book coauthored by a British Baptist and an Anglican.

The discussion of this sensitive topic went well for about an hour. Then we reached an impasse. One of the Catholics, a learned classics scholar, asserted that since Vatican II much of his church had adopted a view of the Mass that would be more acceptable to Protestants. He was challenged by a Lutheran, who held an interdisciplinary Ph.D. in theology and humanities. No official voice of the Roman church had ever repudiated transubstantiation and the sacrificial character of the Mass, he objected, and until such an official repudiation was made, he would refuse to believe anything had changed.

The Catholic explained that an institution like the Roman church never repudiates a previous declaration. When there is a change of mind, he said, it merely “reinterprets” older teachings. It says “What we really meant was …”

But our Lutheran friend was obdurate. The discussion was over.

Changes

George Carey, principal of Trinity Theological College in England, urges his fellow Protestants to take to heart what the adamant Lutheran refused to recognize. In his preface to A Tale of Two Churches, he writes: “It is especially important that Protestants learn to recognize that real changes can take place in Roman Catholic theology without there ever being any official repudiation of past positions. It is simply part of the fabric of Roman Catholic theology to reinterpret the faith as time goes by, laying stress in new areas and de-emphasizing old ideas without announcing the changes. This is a very un-Protestant thing to do, but Protestants are bound to misunderstand current Roman Catholic thinking if they do not recognize this phenomenon.”

Carey appears to have a genuine hope that “the two great Western church traditions may one day meet in spirit and in truth.” One source of this hope is that Rome appears to have realized that it is no longer “the center of Christendom which would in time conquer the world.” Secular governments, resurgent world religions, and widespread atheism put Roman Catholics in the minority position Protestants have learned to live with. In pluralistic societies, the Church of Rome can no longer flex its muscle to get its way. The pope must now lead by moral influence rather than imperial fiat, and the hierarchy must listen to the voice of the people. The result is an openness to change and a willingness to join hands with Christians of other traditions in what J. I. Packer calls “the cobelligerence of Catholics and Protestants fighting together for the basics of the creed” in his foreword to this book.

Serious Differences

Carey does not downplay the serious doctrinal differences that still exist between Roman Catholics and Protestants: Mary and the saints, faith and works, tradition and biblical authority, the church and sacraments. But while pointing to actual differences, he also demolishes some old myths that Catholics and Protestants cling to.

Carey objectively sets forth in what ways each Protestant tenet and Catholic dogma is both a strength and a weakness. For example, Protestants who change churches and denominations at the slightest provocation can learn from Catholics who are bound in loyalty and obedience to their church. Although Protestants may never adopt many Catholics’ abject obedience to the will of the church, they certainly can learn to take their church more seriously than they do. And while Roman Catholics may never come to share Protestants’ radical reliance on personal faith and trust, they certainly can benefit from the revitalizing effect a personal faith can have on corporate faith and worship.

Carey is not so fond of ecumenical efforts toward organic church union as he is of the informal talks and experiences of renewal that lead to mutual understanding. The charismatic renewal is, in his opinion, the only renewal movement that has successfully built bridges between islands of doctrinal isolation.

Hierarchy Of Truth

Of course, theological dialogue must follow renewal. And Carey suggests that Vatican II’s Decree on Ecumenism points the way for fruitful discussions. “The decree suggested that closer agreement among Christians is possible if we think in terms of a hierarchy of truths.”

Carey suggests six central points of unity that should be near the top of this hierarchy of truth, items on which Protestants and Catholics should be able to agree quickly.

Perhaps, if Carey’s advice and example were followed, we could see more of “the cobelligerence of Catholics and Protestants fighting together for the basics of the creed” and the preservation of what remains of an agreed moral standard in our society.

The Priest’S Tale

A Closer Look at Catholicism: A Guide for Protestants, by Bob Moran, CSP (Word, 1986, 259 pp.; $12.95, hardcover). Reviewed by David Neff.

Father Bob Moran and the Irish-American Shanahan family were obviously uncomfortable and out of place standing around and sipping fruit punch at the alcohol-free, dance-free (and seemingly fun-free) reception after Terry Shanahan’s evangelical Protestant wedding.

Having been evangelized by an evangelical campus fellowship at MIT, Terry had met the love of his life at the local Good News bookstore. Terry stopped attending Catholic services and became, in effect, an ex-Catholic.

Of course, Father Moran, his former Catholic chaplain, came to Terry’s wedding; and the curiosity that was piqued there grew into Moran’s new book, A Closer Look at Catholicism: A Guide for Protestants. Moran’s own Catholicism seemed to him “a richly appointed banquet with lots of courses and plenty of substantial food,” whereas the evangelicalism of Terry and his friends “seemed like a quick lunch at a drive-in. It nourished at a basic level for a while, but appeared to lack depth, breadth, and an awareness of history.”

However, Moran did not dismiss evangelicalism out of hand. When he felt the need for a sabbatical, he decided to study the strange faith firsthand and enrolled, with the permission of his order, in Wheaton College for the 1983–84 school year.

Cosmetic Surgery

As a result of the experience of that sabbatical year, Moran has attempted to explain the Catholic faith and capture the Catholic spirit in a way that will be understood and appreciated by evangelicals.

For the most part, Moran has succeeded in giving his heritage an attractive profile. Like a skillful plastic surgeon, he gives Catholicism a facelift, smoothing its wrinkles and whittling away at its Roman nose. Indeed, there are many points in this volume when the Protestant reader will wonder why the great Reformation divide ever happened. By and large, Moran treats Protestant-Catholic differences as though they are merely stressing different aspects of the same truth.

Moran has read his evangelical sources carefully. He knows how to quote and whom to quote to support his Catholic perspective on Christian truth. What evangelical will dare to quarrel with what John R. W. Stott has to say about conversion? And who will quibble with A. W. Tozer’s views on spirituality or with what Dawson Trotman taught about the need to cooperate with the Holy Spirit?

Many readers will, however, choke on his comparison of the holy relics of Brother André enshrined in Montreal’s Oratory of Saint Joseph with the historical artifacts of evangelism on display at Wheaton’s Billy Graham Center Museum. (But perhaps the comparison may have more value than we are eager to admit.) And his illustration of a Native American Christian’s communications with her ancestors and other “spirit friends” will only confirm the fears of many Protestants concerning prayers to the saints. Father Moran has studied the evangelical language, but his accent betrays his origins.

Despite its layer of cosmetics, A Closer Look at Catholicism is valuable for Protestant readers who want to understand the spiritual impulses of their Catholic neighbors. The earthy celebration, the sense of historic continuity and tradition, the worship in smell and taste (as well as spirit and truth)—all are communicated with clarity and charity by one who has a deep fondness for his newfound evangelical friends.

The Judgment Of Francis Schaeffer

Francis Schaeffer: Portraits of the Man and His Work, edited by Lane T. Dennis (Crossway, 1986, 237 pp.; $7.95, softcover), and Reflections on Francis Schaeffer, edited by Ronald W. Ruegsegger (Zondervan, 1986, 320 pp.; $11.95, softcover). Reviewed by Douglas Groothuis, research associate for Probe Ministries, and author of Unmasking the New Age (IVP).

Francis Schaeffer was unique. At once a pastor, evangelist, and apologist, he intellectually and ethically invigorated modern evangelicalism as few others have. His mission “to speak historical Christianity into the twentieth century” was neither engineered nor executed from the academy but rather forged in the heat of evangelistic encounters.

Yet in his quest to give “honest answers to honest questions,” Schaeffer critiqued modern culture in bold and broad strokes, touching disciplines as diverse as philosophy, theology, art, history, and politics. Some hailed him as a brilliant thinker; others claimed to spot simplifications and distortions. Now there are two new books to aid our understanding of Francis Schaeffer by focusing on specific aspects of his work.

Lane Dennis’s Francis Schaeffer: Portraits of the Man and His Work is essentially a tribute, culling essays from academics and personal admirers, who, while not afraid to correct Schaeffer at times, unite in their positive evaluations. Portraits is divided into two parts. “Knowing the Truth” treats Schaeffer’s contribution to the humanities; and “The Practice of Truth” contains appreciative essays by those touched personally by Schaeffer.

Ronald Ruegsegger’s Reflections on Francis Schaeffer is more critical and scholarly. After a particularly balanced and winsome preface by J. I. Packer, Ruegsegger provides an expository essay on “Schaeffer’s System of Thought,” followed by three sections of essays: “Schaeffer’s Conceptual Framework,” “Schaeffer’s Analysis of the Disciplines,” and “Schaeffer’s Critique of Culture.”

Although Dennis defends Schaeffer against scholarly criticisms of his views of the Reformation, Kierkegaard, and the Christian influence on America’s Founding Fathers, his discussion does not fully meet the challenges posed by some essays in Ruegsegger’s Reflections (which was published second). Nevertheless, Dennis is able to defuse some criticisms, especially where critics have caricatured Schaeffer’s work.

Prophetic Generalist

The real issue raised is the value of the generalist’s role versus that of the specialist. Portraits paints a picture of a daring and prophetic generalist who filled a crying need for evangelical apologetic engagement with culture. Ronald Nash, for instance, appreciates Schaeffer the generalist who awakened many culturally ignorant Christians—even though he finds fault with Schaeffer’s indictment of Aquinas as a precursor of secularism and wonders why Schaeffer never treated Nietzsche as modernity’s model anti-Christian.

On the other hand, the contributors to Reflections, all academic specialists, are less forgiving of scholarly inadequacies—although they sometimes appreciate Schaeffer the generalist. The generally more scholarly assessments of Reflections, while not always definitive, warn us not to take his work as the last word.

Yet Schaeffer’s word was an important word, says Denver Seminary theologian Gordon Lewis in Reflections. In his essay “Schaeffer’s Apologetic Method,” he argues that Schaeffer was neither presuppositionalist (contra Clark Pinnock’s interpretation in a later chapter) nor evidentialist, but verificationist (à la E.J. Carnell). Lewis finds his method basically sound (if somewhat imprecisely presented) and defends Schaeffer against what he takes as some unfair criticism. The essay contributes to the issue of apologetic method in general as well as Schaeffer’s in particular.

Other essays in Reflections tend to be less positive—especially Harold Best’s critique of Schaeffer on art and music, Richard Pierard’s treatment of Schaeffer on history, and Ronald Wells’s analysis of Schaeffer on America. But by and large these essays take a kind tone and further challenge our understanding of the issues.

Reflections’ concluding chapter, “Schaeffer on Evangelicalism,” shows a clear understanding of the strengths and weaknesses of Schaeffer’s role. Here James Hurley of Reformed Theological Seminary notes the characteristics of Schaeffer’s rhetorical style: dramatic presentations of issues, real-life illustrations, and a call to choose between polar alternatives. Says Hurley, “Schaeffer’s broad brush and lack of scholarly detail are appropriate to his role. He sounded a call to engagement.”

Integrity, Inspiration, Instinct

Taken together, these two books highlight several things about Schaeffer.

First, Schaeffer’s personal ministry was a model of integrity and compassion. His writing grew out of his concern to minister to people, not to impress academics.

Second, Schaeffer inspired scores of young evangelicals to take their culture seriously and to apply a Christian world view to all of life. But although inspiring, he is usually not the best authority. (Schaeffer himself never claimed to be an academic specialist.) His works should be consulted, not canonized. It is unfortunate that he was sometimes promoted beyond his capacities.

Third, Schaeffer possessed sound theological instincts. His warnings about theological liberalism, the importance of biblical inerrancy, the poverty of secular thought, the need to affirm the sanctity of human life, and the threat of totalitarianism were “words in season.” For this reason, Harold O. J. Brown in Portraits rightly applauds Schaeffer as a pathbreaker not afraid to stand alone and take decisive action.

Fourth, we need prophetic generalists such as Francis Schaeffer in an age of fragmented knowledge and overspecialization. The strength of the specialist is exacting scholarship; the weakness is tunnel vision and academic isolation. The strength of the generalist is a comprehensive vision and broad appeal; the hazard is oversimplification and distortion. Yet scholars and generalists need each other.

Schaeffer would not have appreciated sustained controversy about the merits of his contributions; he rather yearned to see his Lord honored in every area of life. Whatever our judgment on Schaeffer may be, I believe God’s word will be, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

When Exceptions Become The Rule

Pro-Life/Pro-Peace: Life-Affirming Alternatives to Abortion, War, Mercy Killing, and the Death Penalty, by Lowell O. Erdahl (Augsburg, 1986, 160 pp.; $8.95. paper). Reviewed by Michael J. Gorman, Ph.D. candidate at Princeton Theological Seminary and author of Abortion and the Early Church (IVP).

With this significant book, Erdahl, bishop of the Southeastern Minnesota district of the American Lutheran Church, joins the growing number of Christians who lament the radical split between the peace and prolife movements. Erdahl calls for a consistent, though not absolute, sanctity-of-life ethic.

Erdahl first outlines his fundamental contentions in three brief chapters: (1) the “pro-life principle” of reverence for and protection of human life is basic to human existence and Christian faith; (2) certain exceptional circumstances justify taking life rather than giving and enhancing it; but (3) abortion, war, euthanasia, and the death penalty (Erdahl’s four “institutions of death”) are practices in which killing has become (or could become) the rule rather than the exception. Tragically, not only the world, but even the church has often uncritically accepted the exception as the norm.

In the following four chapters, Erdahl deals with the “institutions of death” one by one. In each chapter he applies the prolife principle to the issue, discusses criteria for justifiable exceptions, and suggests life-affirming alternatives to the specific practice of death. A final chapter gives practical advice to the reader who wants to apply the prolife principle concretely and consistently, and two appendices contain discussion questions and a list of resources.

Institutionalizing Death

Erdahl’s position is not really new; the author places the fetus before “brain birth” (set at six-weeks’ gestation) as radically different from the status of the more developed fetus. Consequently (and unfortunately), he is less troubled by early than by late abortions. But one is tempted to ask whether this position does not allow the exception to continue as the rule, since most abortions are already relatively early and may soon, with the advent of the “morning-after pill,” be extremely early.

Because Erdahl believes that the institutionalization of killing is the most grievous error, he is more lenient in his views on abortion and euthanasia than on war and capital punishment. But we must ask whether the fundamental sin is really killing as an institution or simply killing per se, the destruction of even one individual created by God and thus an act inconsistent with following Christ. If the latter, then perhaps this book will stimulate both author and reader toward a prolife position with even fewer—if any—exceptions.

Despite its problems, Erdahl’s work will encourage serious reflection, and it should be read by everyone concerned about issues of life and peace.

CHRISTIANITY TODAY TALKS TO Alan Peshkin

What did you admire most about Bethany?

It was a wonderful community, There was a nice feeling of belonging. The word nurturance came to me in 1972 when I was doing my first study of a rural community school. And nurturance is an important word for characterizing what a community is about.

We don’t have too much nurturance in our society, but there was nurturance aplenty at Bethany. You weren’t left alone to stew in your own lonely juices. One doesn’t have to be a believing fundamentalist to admire the good thing that they had going there.

Bethany students are not encouraged to question authority. Do public school students question authority too much?

Without respect for authority, you may be inviting trouble in your social order. But there is danger in either extreme. Public school kids go too far in questioning authority. Bethany kids hardly begin to go anywhere. They have internalized a lesson that authorities have prerogatives that should be honored.

There are important things that one doesn’t learn when one esteems authority in the way the Bethany kids are taught. For example, intelligent doubt is an important asset in learning about any part of one’s world, whether it has to do with watching a television advertisement or listening to a politician talk about his or her platform. One should not doubt everything one hears from an authority. But I didn’t hear the quality of intelligent doubt being nurtured at all at Bethany.

Do Bethany students gain more than they lose from this Christian school experience?

In no way would I want any relative of mine to be raised in such an environment. They educate, but the price is high.

However, I think that it’s not too high a price to pay given their beliefs. There should be institutions like Bethany. It would be inappropriate for a democratic society not to be comfortable—not just begrudgingly tolerant, but comfortable—with the fact that they deserve to have schools that are good places for their children.

Do you think that the graduates of Bethany will grow up to be productive, contributing members of society?

Yes. Among the lessons they learn are hard work, giving people their money’s worth, being fair, and being honest. Does the school do it? Were these kids this way when they came into this school? Possibly. But certainly the lessons in the school reinforce hard work, persistence, determination, honesty, reliability, punctuality—a lot of virtues.

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