Page 6112 – Christianity Today (2024)

Dramatically underscoring the theme of the Twenty-seventh National Conference on Religious Architecture, “An End to False Witness,” was the decision of the jury of an ecclesiastical arts competition that the material submitted did not warrant exhibition, and the refusal of conference officials to allow the jury’s statement to be publicly displayed.

Not until the final session of the conference in San Francisco last month were delegates and observers able to listen to and participate in the debate. There a member of the jury, Mrs. Jane Dillenberger, art historian and wife of theologian John Dillenberger, brought to light the story of the disagreement between the jury and the conference officials.

Approximately 350 works were submitted by eighty-nine artists and craftsmen. These were studied by the jury, headed by Mario Ciampi, the architect who won the competition for the design of an art gallery to be built on the Berkeley campus of the University of California. The other jury members were Richard Diebenkorn, painter; Peter Voulkos, ceramist and sculptor; Robert Hudson, sculptor; and Mrs. Dillenberger. The unanimous decision was that, though there were some works of integrity and sound craftsmanship and some objects of beauty, they lacked sufficient carrying power to warrant an exhibition.

The jury recommended that its decision be placed in the room allotted for the showing, to dramatize for the Church and for architects and artists the poverty of the situation.

Conference officials, rather than accepting the challenge of an empty exhibition room and entering into discussion of the disturbing implications, refused to allow the statement to be posted, and accused the jury of “massive egotism” and “publicity seeking.”

“Their critics don’t seem to know that they are all artists of stature,” said Mrs. Dillenberger, in defense of the other members of the jury. “Their paintings and sculptures are owned by such venerable institutions as the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York, the Art Institute of Chicago, and the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. Protestantism, Catholicism, Judaism—all of us need the artist’s gift of imagery, but they will only be ours if we seek the artists out, and trust in their vision, and accord their works their ancient, honored place in the House of God.”

She went on to recommend that the Ecclesiastical Arts Committee for the next conference convene as soon as possible and seek the advice of critics and museum curators of national eminence in getting a roster of the nation’s most gifted sculptors, painters, ceramists, and the like, that invitations be sent very soon inviting the artists to submit work, and finally that the awards be large enough to honor the seriousness of the conference.

The three major speakers of the conference had already expressed agreement with the action of the jury. Said Robert McAfee Brown, in his address: “If there is a gap between artistic creativity and so-called religious art, must we not call attention to that gap, challenge mediocrity, and even highlight the problem of the present distance between churchmen and the artist—as the jury for this conference tried to do—rather than ignoring the need to challenge artist and churchman into a new kind of partnership?”

Peter Hammond quoted Susanne Langer’s saying, that “indifference to art is the most serious sign of decay in any institution; nothing bespeaks its old age more eloquently than that art, under its patronage, becomes literal and self-imitating. Then the most impressive living art leaves the religious context and draws on unrestricted feeling somewhere else.”

Edward Larrabee Barnes, in the final major address of the conference, congratulated the jury for taking its strong stand. “Let us not forget,” he said, “the redemptive effect of something beautiful.” He noted that art speaks to the individual and concluded by saying, “In the world today we need individual redemption—not just for the poor, but for all of us here.”

The chairman of the Ecclesiastical Arts Committee, Frederick W. Whittlesey, summed up the feelings of many: “It is my opinion that it will not be the absence of an art exhibit here which will further widen the breach between the church and the arts but, rather, the failure of the conference to take appropriate action.”

The implication was clear that the conference leadership, by its refusal to take seriously the jury’s decision, was not yet fully prepared to follow out its own theme but rather was unwittingly perpetuating the “witness of false ends” that has been the weakness of so much modern church art and architecture.

Four church designs were selected as outstanding architectural examples in this year’s contest: John Knox Presbyterian Church of Marietta, Georgia (see illustration); Westminster Congregational Society Church (Unitarian) of East Greenwich, Rhode Island; the parish hall at Christ Church (Episcopal) in Sausalito, California; and the remodeling work on St. Leo’s Catholic Church in Solano Beach, California.

The conference was sponsored by the National Council of Churches, American Institute of Architects, and Guild for Religious Architecture.

Personalia

Howard Schomer, 50, has resigned as president of Chicago Theological Seminary (United Church of Christ), explaining that “I simply have no interest in more administrative and financial tasks.”

Lutheran refugee pastor Richard Wurmbrand, 56, stripped off his clerical garb to the waist at a Senate subcommittee hearing to show scars he said were inflicted by secret police in Romania who sought “accusatory statements” against church leaders.

President Johnson presented Billy Graham the Big Brother of the Year award for “notable love for the children of the world” and emphasis on brotherhood and character development in his evangelism. Graham is the first Protestant churchman to receive the annual award.

Franklin H. Littell, noted Methodist church historian and professor at Chicago Theological Seminary, will be the new president of Iowa Wesleyan College.

Donald C. Bolles, former promotion director of the Episcopalian, will coordinate the new Partnership Plan for sharing diocesan income with the national Episcopal Church.

Charles T. Leber, Jr., urban mission strategist in New York City, is new chairman of “interpretation strategy” of the United Presbyterian Board of National Missions.

Judith Phillips, 25, daughter of Church of England Bishop John Phillips of Portsmouth, plans to marry a Roman Catholic. The marriage reportedly was discussed by Pope Paul and the Archbishop of Canterbury during their April meeting. Dual wedding services will be held if the Vatican approves.

Miscellany

Anglican Bishop Robert Neil Russell, 60, reports authorities in Zanzibar threw him out of the country on forty-eight hours’ notice, without giving any reason. Russell had sparred with officials on new laws on interreligious marriage.

‘Censoriousness’

Paul S. Rees of World Vision this month told 125 editors of Evangelical Press Association that he deplored “injudicious censoriousness” in the recently passed Wheaton Declaration (see previous issue, page 48). The declaration’s treatment of the ecumenical movement, he said, sometimes uses “critique by shotgun rather than by rifle.” At the EPA convention at Disneyland, California, Cable, the bimonthly of Overseas Crusades Inc., was named Periodical of the Year.

The president of Sudan’s largest political party, Sayed Sadiq al-Mahdi, proposed in a letter to Pope Paul that Christianity and Islam carry out missionary work among pagans throughout Africa on a “coexistence” basis. The Muslim politician said paganism is “the common enemy” of both faiths.

Synod delegates of the Evangelical Church of Cameroun asked churches in France and Switzerland to continue sending missionaries despite the murder of two of them there last August.

Translators working on the Old Testament and Apocrypha for the New English Bible report they will be finished by 1970 as planned.

East Germany’s State Secretary Hans Seigewasser plans to visit the Lutheran World Federation’s Geneva headquarters to plan LWF’s assembly scheduled for 1969 in Weimar, in the Soviet Zone. He will also visit World Council of Churches leaders and theologian Karl Barth.

Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod has withdrawn from its 70-year-old joint social work with the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod in Wisconsin because of their doctrinal dispute.

The North Carolina Synod of the Lutheran Church in America wants the state legislature to amend a law that requires clergymen to give court testimony on confidential discussions.

The once-Methodist University of Southern California this fall unites undergraduate and graduate religion courses in a School of Religion.

Boston’s Park Street Church raised $274,416 for missions in its annual one-day fund-raising drive. The 2,200-member Congregational church backs nearly 100 missionaries and many institutions.

Massachusetts Governor Volpe signed the bill to end curbs on disseminating birth-control information and devices.

California’s Supreme Court threw out “Proposition 14,” which passed 2 to 1 in a 1964 referendum despite strong church opposition. The proposition forbade the state to interfere with sale or rental of housing, even if discriminatory.

Deaths

LUTHER A. GOTWALD, 67, former missionary to India, head of the United Lutheran Church missions board, and executive secretary of the National Council of Churches’ missions division; in New York City.

JOSIAH K. LILLY, 72, pharmaceutical manufacturer, Episcopal layman, and president of Lilly Endowment Inc., which annually gives about $1.5 million to religious causes; in Indianapolis.

Episcopal Bishop James A. Pike, who is full of surprises, came up with the biggest one yet this month. He resigned.

The dynamic and controversial bishop, noted for theological vagaries, wants to be relieved of the pressures of administering the Diocese of California to become a “scholar-teacher” at the freewheeling Center for the Study of Democratic Institutions in Santa Barbara, California.

Pike told Associated Press he was “not driven to my decision by critics; actually, my critics delayed the decision. Every so often, there would be a little flurry, so I stayed.”

Heresy charges against Pike have never gotten off the ground, but reaction was strong after his most recent assault on tradition in Look magazine (see CHRISTIANITY TODAY, February 18 issue, page 46). Authoritative church sources said several influential bishops held an extraordinary showdown meeting with Pike at Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport, where he was encouraged to seek a new post. The bishop had been thinking of returning to academic life as a result of a sabbatical leave in England. A second bishops’ meeting reportedly was held at O’Hare several weeks ago.

Pike would be the first Episcopal bishop ever to leave church work for a secular position. In his letter of resignation to Presiding Bishop John Hines, Pike said he would remain a bishop and participate in church affairs as requested.

Hines issued a noncommittal statement noting that Pike’s letter would be sent to members of the House of Bishops. A majority vote by letter would approve the change and is expected.

Pike’s move was a surprise even to associates at Grace Cathedral in San Francisco. He met with the diocesan standing committee May 10, and it accepted the resignation “with regret.” Notification then went to diocesan clergymen.

Pike led the diocese for nearly eight years. During that time it gained 113 additional clergymen and seventeen churches, and the budget went from $330,855 to $896,000. But Pike’s novel doctrines have caused increasing dissension in recent years, among both clergy and laity. Financial support for the diocese lagged noticeably this year, and a special convention was called to consider changing from voluntary giving to assessments. The night before he resigned, Pike defended his ideas at Trinity Episcopal Church in Hayward, whose rector had accused the bishop of “betrayal of the sacred vows that you made at the time of your ordination.”

Since Pike would still carry authority as a bishop, such critics as Canon Albert du Bois of the American Church Union aren’t satisfied. He believes Pike “could do great damage” if quoted as a church authority while under even less church restraint than before. Although Pike cannot resign as a bishop, Du Bois suggests he make it clear that he does not intend to exercise the office.

Pike was named head of the diocese at the rather early age of 45. He was originally a Roman Catholic who became an agnostic in college. A marriage during this period was annulled. He was a Navy officer and lawyer before entering the Episcopal ministry. Pike is married to the former Esther Yanovsky and they have had four children, of whom three are still living. The bishop, author of many books, holds the degrees of A.B., LL.B., J.S.D., and B.D., and a string of honorary doctorates.

Poland: Where Did It Start?

Roman Catholics in Poland showed their strength this month in a large pilgrimage to ancient Jasna Gora monastery at Czestochowa. Pilgrims have been coming to Czestochowa for centuries to pay homage at the Black Madonna shrine. This time the pilgrimage was part of a long series of observances marking 1,000 years of Christianity in Poland. The big parade apparently came off with no major incidents. Although relations between the Polish Roman Catholic hierarchy and Communist officials remain tense, there has been little direct confrontation, either verbal or physical.

Religious News Service estimates that about one million people filed past the famed image of Our Lady of Czestochowa, which was brought outside its monastery shrine for the anniversary celebrations.

The convent at Czestochowa is the oldest in Poland. Some tradition holds that the picture of the Virgin Mary there was the work of Luke. At any rate, miraculous events have been associated with her as “the Queen of Poland.” Three centuries ago, Polish Catholics established a covenant with the “Queen,” and adulation of Mary is still as strong in Poland today as anywhere else in the world.

Attention to Mary and the tensions with Communists seemed to push considerations of the real origins of Christianity in Poland into the background of the anniversary celebrations.

Tv Viewers In Dutch

A Dutch couple is barred from confirmation in an ultra-conservative church because the wife watched Princess Beatrix’s marriage on television. The 30,000-member Reformed Congregations took a stand last June not against TV as such but against the way it is “abused” and its temptations to worldliness.

Mr. and Mrs. C. J. M. van Hoef, a young couple, had been baptized as infants and were going through confirmation classes when the Rev. A. W. Verhoef lowered the boom. Contrary to published reports, he did not bar the van Hoefs from attending church, and the pastor says he is on friendly terms with the couple.

Van Hoef took it all rather philosophically, and his wife saw a silver lining as well—“at least we’ve bought the new clothes [for the confirmation service]. Otherwise I would never have gotten them!”

No one is quite sure who the first Polish Christians were. Some think the introduction of the Christian religion might be traced to Cyril and Methodius, brothers of Thessalonica who came as missionaries to central Europe’s Slavs in the mid-ninth century. The first well-authenticated conversion is that of the Duke Mieszka. In 965 or 966 he married Dobrawa, sister of Boleslav II of Bohemia. She was a Christian, and it is said that under her influence he was baptized in 966 or 967. The newlyweds had a great Christian influence upon the Poles. After Dobrawa died, Mieszka is said to have married a former nun and to have continued to evangelize among his people.

The masses did not take to Christianity easily. But neither did they revert to paganism. Official restrictions may have helped; the harsh discipline included such penalties as having teeth knocked out for violations of the fast.

Today the Roman Catholic Church claims about 30 million members in Poland, plus 5 million Poles in the United States and another 5 million scattered throughout the world. The total is nearly a tenth of the global constituency of Roman Catholicism.

Protestants are a tiny minority in Poland, but some recent reports indicate they may soon become a more important factor in the nation’s ecclesiastical makeup.

Burmese Exodus

All foreign missionaries are being forced to leave Burma by the end of this month. Now, as during World War II, Christians in this predominantly Buddhist land are on their own.

Anglican Bishop V. G. Shearburn calls the government move “a hard knock” but is confident about the future. The American Baptist Convention says of the Burmese, “They have come of age. They are ready. Missionaries have not been in positions of convention leadership for many years.”

About 300 missionaries are affected, including these from America: twenty-three Roman Catholics, twenty-three Baptists, seven Seventh-day Adventists, and five Methodists. There are more than 700 ordained Protestant nationals and a constituency of 750,000.

The London Observer says the government made the move both to appease the Buddhist hierarchy, which influences the vast majority of the population, and to chasten rebellious non-Burmese tribes, where Christianity has made its greatest inroads.

In neighboring Cambodia, missionaries continue to have trouble getting renewal of entry visas. Many churches remain closed, with Christians allowed to meet in small groups (not more than six persons) in private homes.

No Viet Calm

United States Ambassador Henry Cabot Lodge left Viet Nam this month for talks with Pope Paul and President Johnson during a lull between storms. But the touchy political truce was then shaken by Premier Ky’s statements that his military junta would be around for another year.

The forthcoming election of a constitutional convention is being preceded by furious activity. A Saigon bloc seeks to woo popular General Nguyen Chanh Thi from central Viet Nam (and the influence of Buddhist Tri Quang) as a new pro-American, anti-Communist leader.

In the central city of Da Nang, some Christians report they were held for days by Buddhists during the recent riots; others were accused of hiding arms in mission compounds. Known Communist cadres that formerly dared operate only in rural areas are now moving freely in Da Nang. Some missionaries who left the city have returned. In neighboring Hue, last-minute appeals to Buddhists kept the Protestant Youth Center open during disturbances.

Protestants’ stance in the political turmoil continues to be awkward. The government invited their participation in the recent Political Congress in Saigon, which planned formation of a civilian regime, and Pastor Doan Van Mieng named two laymen to attend. But the evangelical church executive committee had not been informed of the move. It met and released an official church statement that it does not engage in politics (although individual members are not proscribed front political activity).

DALE HERENDEEN

Maybe Even A Barkeeper

Translating the Bible into new languages can mushroom and diversify. Wycliffe Bible Translators has now expanded to the point where it needs not only linguists but also doctors, nurses, teachers, pilots, mechanics, printers, artists, accountants, radio technicians, agronomists, and a wide assortment of secretarial and administrative help.

“Virtually anyone but the barkeeper can be used,” says Wycliffe head Cameron Townsend. “And if he gets converted, we’d even like a second look at him.”

Wycliffe appointed 190 new missionary members last year and hopes to add 300 more during 1966.

Working papers for what could be the world’s biggest Protestant church floated to finality with surprisingly little trouble at this month’s Consultation on Church Union in Dallas.

Delegates from eight churches with 24 million members (see chart, next page) gave the “Outline Plan of Union” the less troublesome title “Principles of Church Union,” passed most of it as proposed, and amputated the controversial last two chapters on structure and the time table for the united church. These two “papers” will be distributed, then discussed further at next year’s meeting in Boston.

The consultation is on the wing. The open letter to churches, preamble, and chapters on faith, worship, sacraments, and ministry form a basis for design. The effort to unite the eight denominations is now somewhere in limbo between Stage 2, acceptance of the outline, and Stage 3, negotiation of a specific plan of union.

Three of the eight denominations have authority to proceed with negotiations: The United Presbyterian Church, the United Church of Christ, and the Christian Churches (Disciples of Christ). The commitment of each to joining the proposed church is clear.

At Dallas, the consultation “urgently invited” the other five denominations to get authority to enter into preparation of a union plan.

The Evangelical United Brethren and The Methodist Church will hold joint conferences in November, principally to decide on their own bilateral union, but COCU will be in the wind. The Brethren may vote authority, but their ultimate destiny probably will rest with the Methodists, who are not expected to act until the 1968 general conference.

Who’S Next?

Supporters of the Consultation on Church Union (story above) hope the surprise entry of the Southern Presbyterians may break a logjam. COCU’s new secretary, George G. Beazley, Jr. (Disciples of Christ), predicts that now that there is “a good chance of success,” other churches will join this year.

He didn’t name possibilities, but the COCU executive committee hopes for two more Negro denominations, the Christian Methodist Episcopal and African Methodist Episcopal Zion Churches, and reports that the Church of the Brethren “has the matter under advisem*nt.”

COCU Executive Secretary George L. Hunt said other churches are welcome to join on the basis of agreements already reached, “but we are not going to go soliciting any more.”

The two major groupings outside the unity talks are 8.8 million Lutherans and 23.7 million Baptists. The American Baptist Convention’s General Council has voted to stay out, and President Robert G. Torbet expressed doubt in Dallas that this month’s national convention would reverse the decision. Torbet came the closest yet to personal endorsem*nt of COCU.

The Dallas meeting drew COCU’s first formal Lutheran observers, from (in a surprise to most) the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod. Richard Jungkuntz, executive secretary of the denomination’s Commission on Theology and Church Relations, said, “I see no proximate possibility of our participating actively.”

Jungkuntz thinks COCU is “ambivalent” in stating that one church already exists and then identifying this concept with structural unity. He questioned the “premise that growing Christian unity is best achieved through structural union first, rather than after a consultation which works from a theological platform.” His approach to unity would start with pulpit exchange, intercommunion, and development of unified spirit. This prior unity, he said, might then give rise to’ structural unity “for more efficiency and effective missions.”

Episcopalians hold their triennial conference next year, and a COCU decision is likely. The other two denominations—African Methodist Episcopal and Presbyterian Church in the U. S. (Southern)—have just joined COCU and face a less leisurely consideration of strategy than the old-timers have had.

Consultation leaders are committed to two points of strategy: pressure on churches for an in-or-out decision on COCU as soon as possible, and organic union before details are worked out.

Methodist delegate Albert Outler of Perkins School of Theology said there are “carefully drafted ambiguities throughout” the Dallas “principles.” Many points will remain unclear as churches vote on irreversible commitment to union plans in the next few years. Some will await formulation of a constitution after churches vote to enter the united church.

Most controversies on belief and strategy were handled in closed-door meetings of chapter discussion groups, denominational delegations, and the executive committee. Corridor chatter indicated some gritty debates in those sessions, revolving in particular around Methodist intentions. Some COCU eager beavers questioned the commitment of Methodists. The Methodist delegation (changed completely since the 1964 meeting, when Methodists raised serious doubts about COCU) insisted it was not stalling but was concerned about getting the plan approved. The title switch from “outline plan” to “principles” reportedly was made to ease Methodist problems.

The hottest unanswered question at Dallas was how much power bishops will have. Free churches and even some Presbyterians swallowed hard when they agreed to have bishops in the united church. Now the Methodists, AMEs, and EUBs, who provide more than half COCU’s constituency, are pushing for their system, in which bishops appoint ministers.

On closing day, the bishop-appointment question sparked the only semblance of public discussion at Dallas. Methodist Bishop James K. Mathews of Boston, without consulting his colleagues, introduced an amendment to add “appointment of ministers to their tasks” to the bishop’s functions.

Mathews said he had “no particular content” in mind but wanted to make sure that the appointment system was still an open question, and that bishops would at least have some voice in appointment. But during debate, Mathews and two other bishops told how democratic and consultative their system was, and all about its practical advantages. This marked a “substantive debate,” which had been outlawed in advance by COCU steerers and could not be squeezed into the closing hours.

Mathews hit the heart of the matter when he said Methodists needed “something meaningful to take to the brethren back home. There are great constitutional hurdles to overcome if something like this is not in.” Some wondered quietly whether the folks back home had as much interest in episcopal power as bishops.

After a recess, the following compromise amendment was approved: bishops will provide, “together with other agencies and office-bearers of the church, for the education, ordination, and appointment to their tasks of ministers whom God calls.” It is still an open question who has the final say. Another controversy on the horizon is ordination of women.

There were few significant changes between the outline released a month before Dallas and the final versions approved for distribution. Reporters had noted a “halo” put around bishops, and it faded from view in the rewriting. A member of the drafting committee explained the halo had been put there “because we took most of their power away.”

Also gone is stress on the united church as a product of and for America. But stated or not, the national church concept is obvious. Roman Catholic historian George Tavard warned that “the concept of nation may be obsolete in forty years, even in politics. The reduction of [Christian] divisions is good, but new types of divisions may occur.”

In most cases, one ecumenical choice negates another. The united church raises some problems for already existing worldwide confessional bodies. For the Southern Presbyterians, the last-minute decision to join COCU (see previous issue, page 43) endangers the well-advanced plan for merger with the Reformed Church in America. After the Southern Presbyterians acted, RCA pulpit exchanges were hastily canceled, and the negotiating teams from the two churches moved their Atlanta meeting up a month, to mid-May.

The Southern Presbyterian group at Dallas was in some disarray, mainly because of the last-minute nature of its decision to join the consultation. Stated Clerk James Millard, Jr., said other commitments kept him from attending, and he withheld any comment on the COCU design.

Delegation Chairman William Ben-field, a Charleston, West Virginia, pastor, also was absent. A moderate who is sympathetic to COCU, Benfield said it would be “very difficult for us to take the next step within the next few years.” He also doubted whether the necessary three-fourths of the church’s presbyteries would approve the eventual merger.

The Episcopalians had once been considered to be as reluctant ecumenical dragons as the Methodists. There is potential discontent among Anglo-Catholics, but Episcopal leaders are generally favorable. Presiding Bishop John Hines, attending his first COCU meeting, said he hopes the outline “won’t be tampered with very much.” He called the Dallas meeting the “core,” warned of the danger of “degenerating into deliberation,” and predicted his church’s 1967 conference would approve negotiation.

He warned against “twiddling our thumbs for the next eighteen months” while denominations decide on the next step. Methodist delegates saw no obstacle to further work on unsettled areas like structure, even though final authorization is also pending in their case.

The COCU delegates now face a selling job (or “interpretation,” in COCU parlance). There is some residual opposition in each denomination and, more important, a vast amount of ignorance about what has been going on in the ecumenical stratosphere. Yet the slightly unrealistic ecumenical euphoria at Dallas had some empirical basis. A Gallup poll released on the eve of the meeting showed that only 45 per cent of the nation’s Protestants have heard of the COCU plan. But among this minority, 41 per cent favor the idea, while 36 per cent are opposed and 23 per cent are undecided. Gallup said “Catholics, Jews, and other non-Protestants apparently anticipate no challenge in such a merger, and among those who know of the plan, views are favorable by the ratio of 4 to 1.”

The Dallas meeting signaled the end of an era in leadership as well as the end of a phase. Eugene Carson Blake, who proposed the multi-church merger in a 1960 sermon and has been the most important COCU leader, takes over the World Council of Churches secretariat later this year. The COCU chairman for the past two years, slim, gentlemanly Episcopal Bishop Robert Gibson, Jr., of Richmond, handed the reins to a crew-cut United Church of Christ minister, David G. Colwell of Washington, D. C. Mathews will be vice chairman.

‘Politeness’ From Psychiatry

There is “careful interdisciplinary politeness” between psychiatry and religion but hardly any real dialogue, said psychiatrist Elihu S. Howland on the opening day of the meeting of the Academy of Religion and Mental Health. There is a determination to believe the relationship is better, but it isn’t, said Howland, a pastoral consultant to First Presbyterian Church, Evanston, Illinois.

After attending many such interdisciplinary meetings, Howland concludes they travel a familiar, one-way street, with psychiatrist leading clergyman. Dialogue cannot come, he said, until the psychiatrist “sees the necessity of a reorientation for himself, and becomes aware of a spiritual dimension which, until now, he has not realized was any of his business.”

But the Rev. George C. Anderson, honorary president of the academy, put some blame on churchmen during the organization’s seventh annual meeting in Chicago last month. He called a recent gathering of sixty-five leading psychiatrists and theologians sponsored in Geneva by the World Council of Churches “a major landmark.” But many of the theologians there, he said, had a “narrow, provincial attitude.… Many of them are trying to incorporate all psychiatric and psychological insights into a narrow Christian framework.”

Dr. Charles Stinnette, joint professor of theology and psychiatry at the University of Chicago, challenged the pragmatic use of religion as an adjunct to psychotherapy. He insisted that the pastoral function is to help persons find meaning whether they live or die, rather than to become healers.

Despite these critical notes, the prevailing tone was amicable. The heavy majority of clergymen were obviously reluctant to offer overt criticisms of psychiatry in discussion periods.

Britain’S New-Style ‘Sunday’

Bikini-clad girls on the cover, a papal blessing, and a circulation goal of half a million—these are features of the new British ecumenical magazine Sunday, which had its first issue this month. With an Anglican chief editor, flanked by Roman Catholic and Methodist associates, it tilts at “the Sabbath of prohibition,” advocating a policy of live-and-let-live; deprecates the “false image” of Britain as “a land of empty churches and pagan people” (some bewildering statistics are pressed into service here); and sees itself as marking “a further step towards greater understanding and unity between the Churches.”

Evident throughout the forty-eight pages is a desperate desire to exorcise the Ghost of Sunday Past. People come-of-age have a right to spend the day “according to their conscience and inclination,” argues Lord Willis. There is a piece on Roman Catholic Patrick McGoohan, star of the TV thriller Secret Agent, usually seen in Britain early Sunday evening (although it appears the day before in America). Five whole pages are devoted to an article on Pope Paul VI, except for one corner announcing a profile of Billy Graham for next month.

The articles are well presented and illustrated, and no one will complain of a surfeit of religion. Apart from a short word on the Lord’s Prayer by a Baptist minister, there is little theology apparent. In “Question Time,” however, Richard Tatlock tries to reconcile eternal damnation and God’s love, by beginning; “If I were to tell you that a girl had ‘melted into tears’ you wouldn’t for one minute suppose that she had suddenly turned into three or four buckets of salty water. And it’s essential to use the same kind of commonsense when you read and interpret the Bible.” Commented an evangelical minister on Sunday: “This will rock neither the ecumenical ship nor hell’s foundations.”

J. D. DOUGLAS

One optimist on interdisciplinary cooperation was keynoter Earl Dahl-strom, professor of pastoral care at North Park Seminary. He spoke of the dangers of materialism, professionalism, and cynicism, and warned pastors against practicing pastoral care as a means of satisfying their own unrecognized needs.

The psychiatry chief at Harvard University’s Health Service, Graham Blaine, condemned parents who fail to provide guidelines and limits. “We are becoming afraid of our children,” he concluded. “We are fooled by their verbal statements and fail to pick up the opposite message in their non-verbal cues.” He also deplored the new morality and situational ethics popularized by some bishops and other clergymen, declaring that young people need a firm voice of authority defining right and wrong.

ORVILLE S. WALTERS

Forecast For Guyana

On May 26 the Crown Colony of British Guiana on the northeast coast of South America becomes the sovereign nation of Guyana. It will probably be the last new nation in the Western hemisphere. In recent years, British Guiana, despite a population of little more than half a million, has made news around the world because of strong Communist elements that sometimes have held the reins of government. While Guyana enters independence with a government friendly toward the free world, there is considerable doubt about the new nation’s future.

Guyana is of special interest to Christians because it is perhaps the most thoroughly “churched” of the developing new nations. Mainline denominations and many independent groups from the United States, England, and Canada have been working in British Guiana for many years. There are strong national churches. The capital city, Georgetown, is a city of churches, and every small town has at least one Protestant church. A national hero, Martyr Smith, came from the London Missionary Society. Smith died in prison in 1823 while under sentence of death for inciting the slaves to revolt. (In truth Smith’s crime was teaching the slaves to read the Bible. A slave who could read the New Testament for himself was not likely to remain content with his lot in life.)

British Guiana’s last prime minister and Guyana’s first prime minister is Linden Forbes Sampson Burnham, a big, handsome, Negro lawyer who was a Methodist lay preacher before his law school days. Though friendly toward the West, Burnham is an avowed socialist. He frequently refers to the Scriptures in his speeches. Asked if he was a Christian, he replied that he is well aware that bishops of the Church of England owned some of his ancestors, but that people need an ethic to live by, and the Christian religion offers the best ethic.

Burnham’s political enemy is Dr. Cheddi Jagan, an American-educated dentist who is married to an American, the former Janet Rosenberg. Both Jagans are openly Marxist. Jagan’s People’s Progressive Party is the largest party in Guyana and has controlled the government three times. The first two times the Crown became so alarmed over the actions of the Jaganites that it suspended the constitution. The third time, Jagan was removed from office by a constitutional change that prevents total rule by a simple plurality. Jagan, who is of East Indian extraction and a nominal Hindu, is suspicious of and hostile toward the Christian churches, partly because of their opposition.

Informed observers tend to be pessimistic about the future of Guyana. Most of Jagan’s followers are descendants of laborers imported from India in the nineteenth century. Curiously, few of the East Indians are Communists. They just vote for their race. The East Indian segment of the population is increasing at a much faster rate than Guyana’s other ethnic groups. The pessimists say it is just a matter of time until Jagan’s party gains permanent control.

Burnham’s problems are gigantic. He must maintain a coalition with the United Force, a small party committed to free enterprise. He must break down the racial loyalties of the Guyanese, particularly the East Indians. He must attract badly needed foreign capital to a shaky young country. And he must guard against a Communist-inspired revolution. If Burnham’s coalition government can be maintained, the future for Guyana is bright. If Jagan’s party regains control, Cuba might have an ideological ally in the New World.

ALAN MARK FLETCHER

Is Jesus Necessary?

The Theology of Rudolf Bultmann, edited by Charles W. Kegley (Harper and Row, 1966, 320 pp., $5.75), is reviewed by Clark H. Pinnock, associate professor of theology, New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary, New Orleans, Louisiana.

This volume of essays was prepared in honor of Rudolf Bultmann’s monumental contribution to modern theology, and with the desire to elucidate aspects of his profound thought. Introduced by an autobiographical sketch and concluded by a full bibliography of Bultmann’s writings, the book contains seventeen constructive essays written for the most part by outstanding scholars who share his theological frame of reference. A fine feature of the book is the concise evaluation and response made to each essay by Bultmann himself; this creates a feeling of live discussion. Controversy arises only when attempts are made to modify one aspect of his theology or extend another. But no writer in the symposium appears to regard Bultmann’s influence in theology as negative (unless perhaps Michel), and most prefer to point ahead to new areas of relevance for it. What criticism there is comes chiefly from the “left,” from Ogden, who believes Bultmann should press on to greater consistency and cut back his insistence on the exclusive relevance of Jesus Christ. In the words of the editor, “Granted that Jesus actualised an authentic self-understanding, is man capable of acting freely and responsibly today independent of that historic paradigm?” (xvi). This is essentially the same complaint voiced by Bultmann’s non-Christian critics like Jaspers, who resents this arrogant restriction placed on the freedom of God. The book never really answers the problem, except by repeating an assertion (without proof, of course!) that “seeing the eschatological in the historical” is the scandal of the Gospel. Not a single essay really questions the extraordinary epistemological base on which this viewpoint is grounded.

In the lead paper, Gunther Bornkamm does the reader a fine service by indicating clearly the shape of Bultmann’s theology. The discerning reader is made aware of its skeleton and becomes acquainted with themes that often recur in the remaining pages. A challenge to Bultmann’s system should be registered in the reader’s mind by the first essay, in which Bornkamm discusses two critical issues: the relation of faith to history, and of theology to truth. In Bultmann, he writes, “there is a recognition of the paradoxical character of a revelation that can never be authenticated in the historical-empirical realm but can only be encountered in the Word event and grasped in faith” (p. 5). To preserve the “paradox” consistently, one must dispense with miracles, as Bultmann later observes (p. 272), lest objective evidence of this kind offend the modern mind and destroy the “paradox” as well. For in Jesus, God is both wholly revealed and wholly concealed (p. 47); otherwise, Bultmann asks, “What is there about the historical Jesus that lifts his incognito?” (p. 262). On this point we look in vain for any rebuttal to such nonsense. Any affirmation, it seems to this reviewer, that cannot in any way be verified and that actually excludes any possibility of being tested, is strictly meaningless. The further we remove the Gospel from history and fact, the more vulnerable it is, and the more irrelevant to any rational person. The glory of the Gospel is precisely what Bultmann despises, namely, the objectivity of redemptive events. To speak of “God’s gracious act” (p. 131) in this context is not a gospel paradox but sheer nonsense. It is mockery to offer the sinner a purely verbal solution when he needs the work of Christ.

Bornkamm’s second issue concerns theology and truth. It is axiomatic for Bultmann that the “objectified thinking of the New Testament” is impossible for contemporary man (p. 9). We are prevented, therefore, from making direct use of scriptural statements; instead, we must delve beneath the text to the possibilities of self-understanding hidden within. So the Bible has no normative significance for dogmatic theology (p. 10), and Bornkamm praises Bultmann for applying in the realm of cognition Luther’s discovery of justification by faith alone (p. 12; cf. Bultmann’s reaction, p. 258). The comparison would be funny if it were made in jest. But as a mature reflection, it is tragically fallacious and misleading. For there is all the difference in the world between turning from moral bankruptcy to the objective Cross and Resurrection (Luther) and turning from intellectual doubts to an existential leap in the dark (Bultmann). Bultmann’s thought indeed has a “relevance” for epistemology (p. 17); it renders theology an impossible subject for discussion. If Scripture is no principium theologiae, there is no Christian theologia. In the face of the analytical philosophy, the only term to describe Bultmann’s method of procedure is epistemological suicide.

Because not a single essayist successfully replies to these two errors, no real progress is made in the remainder of the book. This is not to say that the material is not extremely interesting and challenging. It is amusing, for example, to hear Ogden’s plea for Hartshorne instead of Heidegger, and to observe God’s obliviousness to the problem of what the Cross is now symbol of, if anything. Both Ott and Minear attempt to retain some degree of future eschatology to save their philosophy of history, but neither can manage to do so, while standing on Bultmann’s ground. Macquarrie rushes to the defense of existentialism by noting the “zone of common interest” with Christianity (p. 130). As for the other zones not held in common, we hear little of them. For in Bultmann’s thought, modern man himself defines the zones of his interest.

It is Ogden who, in the opinion of this reviewer, raises the book’s most urgent question. The demand for radical demythologizing is inconsistent with any stress on the unique role of Jesus Christ (pp. 120 f.). If salvation for man is, in fact, the realization of authentic existence) neither a divine nor a merely human Christ is an absolute necessity. Small wonder a Jew can be a full disciple of Bultmann (Sandmel, p. 220) without feeling uncomfortable. For no theology to which Jesus Christ bears so tenuous a relationship can deserve the name Christian. Bultmann’s scandal of non-verifiability is certainly not the biblical one. The biblical claim to objective truth and accomplished redemption is the scandal of the New Testament, and the one that Bultmann rejects out of hand.

The theology of Bultmann is not a depleted version of the biblical faith. It is a transmutation of it at every point. This volume presents his thought clearly and will meet with great applause from modern theologians still under Bultmann’s spell. Yet some men weep.

CLARK H. PINNOCK

A Great Work

The Encyclopedia of the Lutheran Church (three volumes), edited for the Lutheran World Federation by Julius H. Bodensieck (Augsburg, 1965, 2,599 pp., $37.50), is reviewed by Herbert T. Mayer, chairman, Department of Historical Theology, Concordia Seminary, St. Louis, Missouri.

The best description and evaluation of this work is found on the dust jacket: “… a valuable source of information for laymen, as well as for educators, theologians, and clergy … for all who want to know what the Lutheran Church is, thinks, and does. These three volumes, eleven years in preparation, provide a profile of the life and work of the Lutheran Church.… This Encyclopedia seeks to provide answers to practically any question which may be asked about Lutheranism. It is the most complete work on Lutheranism available in the English language.”

The reader can rightly ask two questions: How does it measure up as an encyclopedia of religion, for it claims to be this, and how does it measure up as a Lutheran encyclopedia? The answer to both questions is positive. For this project, sponsored by the Lutheran World Federation, more than 700 Lutheran scholars from all over the world combined their efforts under the general editorship of Julius Bodensieck. German scholars seem to have been preferred for many of the articles on contemporary scholarly subjects. Because the articles are often descriptive and even hortatory (compare the article on Bible study by L. Goppelt), instead of simply reportorial, the encyclopedia will influence the thinking of present and future generations of Lutheran Christians.

In general, the writing is at a popular level, which makes the work valuable for church and home libraries. The general theological orientation is toward conservative Lutheranism, in the sense that Johannes Knudsen describes it in his article on fundamentalism. He argues that Lutheranism was less affected by fundamentalism than some other denominations because “the stable confessional character of the Lutheran churches, combined with the belief in the Freedom of the Christian man, were instrumental in maintaining a balance between the fundamentals of the faith and the validity of human inquiry.” The articles that discuss biblical interpretation, ecumenical movements, and social action reflect the sound balance of most of the contributions.

The reader is struck by the editorial freedom the contributors exercised (as in the use of exclamation points in the text! or in the article on the “Lutheran Hour,” which reads almost like a press release). Other articles reflect a sort of homiletical or devotional character that strikes the reader of an encyclopedia as somewhat strange (e.g., “Warfare [Christian Life]”).

It is not always possible to determine the principles by which a subject was included (“cloister,” “dulcimer,” “wizard”) or excluded, nor the principles that led to its treatment under a specific subject entry (thus abuses in pre-Reformation theology are treated under “Abuses” in Volume I). Under the subject entry of “scholasticism,” one is surprised to find only a discussion of Lutheran scholasticism, with no cross-references to the Roman Catholic movement. The importance of the topic is apparently not to be determined by the space it receives: Baptists are covered in only ten lines, while Zoroastrianism occupies two full columns. Thus editorial consistency was not always maintained. In the article on Christology by Ernst Kinder, Nestorius is correctly not identified as the arch-heretic that tradition has made him out to be; but in the treatment of Nestorianism (there is no article on Nestorius), he is so identified. A cross-reference under “Braeuninger” directs the reader to “Indian, American,” but this subject entry serves only as a cross-reference to “Indigenous Americans.”

But criticisms of this nature are primarily designed to show that the reviewer has done his homework; they are not intended to detract from the value of this great work.

HERBERT T. MAYER

Two And A Half Minutes

Healing for You, by Bernard Martin (John Knox, 1965, 194 pp., $4.50), is reviewed by Frank C. Peters, associate professor of psychology, Waterloo Lutheran University, Waterloo, Ontario.

This book is a translation of Veux-tu guérir, published in Geneva in 1963. The author, a psychiatrist and pastor, writes as a believing Christian well versed in the modern healing arts. Moreover, one senses a refreshing approach to Scripture—refreshing in that a psychologist is seen to accept light for his practice from Scripture. The trend of late has been for ministers to sit at the feet of psychologists.

The thesis of the book is that healing is a spiritual process because sickness is related to spiritual well-being. To treat the body and not the spirit is to leave the job half done.

God is concerned about men, and he expresses his concern through men. Herein lies the commission of pastoral counseling. Unless such ministering leads men back to God, it has sold its birthright for psychological pottage.

The book has an intriguing approach to psychological normality. Against the background of the modern sociological and statistical approaches, Martin dares to define normality in Christian terms. “Man, true man as God wanted him, is only met in the person of the son of Man, Jesus Christ.” Apart from Jesus Christ, man is not what he ought to be; he has not accomplished God’s plan. In Jesus Christ, God gives us the full vision of the man he had wanted from the beginning, the man we are called to become. From this stance psychiatrist Martin proceeds to take sin seriously. It is not merely deviation from a social norm, nor man’s realization of his own inadequacy, it is actual estrangement from God. All man’s defenses testify of this sense of estrangement, which the author calls “the gloom of dissimulation.” But pastors are also men, and as such they have their own “trees” that serve as hideouts, secret places where they take shelter. If the pastor is to help others in becoming “open,” he must first have experienced “openness” himself.

This reviewer looked hard for a clear delineation of conversion and found none. However, the author alludes to his own experience of searching for freedom as a replica of Paul’s liberation in Romans 7. The basic ingredients of a biblical conversion are discussed. To repent is to recognize one’s sin unreservedly and to face up to it. The danger of “romanticizing” repentance is ever with us, a prelude of anguish that fails to lead men into the symphony of a divine-human relationship through faith in Christ. Reconciliation with God necessarily calls for reconciliation with oneself—self-acceptance. Repentance and acceptance of oneself go together in a liberating experience of Jesus Christ (John 8:32). The problem this reviewer had with Martin’s treatment of “conversion” was that it seemed so similar to Kierkegaard’s “becoming a Christian,” with no emphasis on the attainment of “sonship status” in grace.

As one might expect, Martin makes much of confession. It is refreshing that he does not fall into the trap of equating confession and catharsis. Quoting Thilo, he says: “Psychoanalysis and confession are not … irreconcilable opposites. They move, however, in two quite distinct paths. In psychoanalysis, the train is driven according to the will of the conductor (the psychologist). In confession, on the other hand, the train does not move according to the instructions of the conductor.…” Martin feels that many pastors are unable to hear confessions because of personal insufficiencies in their own lives. He tells of an American psychologist who visited about a hundred ministers with a list of problems he wanted to discuss with each of them. As soon as the minister interrupted him to take over, the psychologist pressed the button of a stop-watch. At best the psychologist was able to speak 2½ minutes!

According to Martin, parishioners would rather go to a doctor than to a pastor with their problems. This is interpreted as a failure of the ministry to relate significantly to real problems. What the author forgets to mention is that it may also be a significant commentary on modern scientific man, who does not want to face his problems morally. Perhaps we are now reaping the harvest of an amoral psychology sown for two generations in America.

Regarding forgiveness our author comes through in grand style. Since guilt is real, forgiveness must also be real. His concept of forgiveness is theological, not psychological.

The section on demon-possession is very helpful, though it stops short of a conclusion. While recognizing the reality of the devil and therefore the possibility of his power in men’s lives, the author “leaves the door open” for the possibility of demon-possession in our day. Since he accepts biblical demon-possession, he should have explained why he hesitates to accept it for today. That he would have grave clinical problems in this area is certain.

Pastors will find this an excellent book to give to friends in the healing arts. While it has a theological framework, it is almost completely devoid of theological technicalities.

FRANK C. PETERS

Conservative Wesleyanism

The Wesleyan Bible Commentary, Volume VI, Hebrews-Revelation (Eerdmans, 1966, 523 pp., $8.95), is reviewed by Robert Mounce, professor of biblical literature, Bethel College, St. Paul, Minnesota.

The more than twenty contributing authors of this six-volume commentary come from nine different denominations, but are all within the Wesleyan tradition. The Hebrews-Revelation volume is conservative throughout. The Apostle John is said to be the author of all three Epistles assigned to him as well as the Book of Revelation. Peter himself is responsible for both his letters, and James and Jude were written by brothers of our Lord. It is even with some reluctance that the case for a Pauline authorship of Hebrews is left as unproven. Dates are early: James comes before the Jerusalem Council in A.D. 50.

Each book has a brief but helpful introduction. Blaney’s material on Revelation is especially well done. The format is pleasing: double columns, outlined by paragraph. Footnotes indicate that the greatest amount of exegetical help has come from the older commentaries. Bibliographies are relatively complete but not annotated.

The theological stance of the authors is everywhere present but is not obtrusive. Not even Hebrews 6:4–8 is made to say more than it does. All in all we find here a helpful conservative commentary by men with high regard for sacred Scripture.

ROBERT MOUNCE

Welcome Stimulus

The Theology of St. John by Joseph Crehan, S.J. (Sheed and Ward, 1965, 160 pp., $3.50), is reviewed by Thomas W. Harpur, associate professor of New Testament, Wycliffe College, Toronto, Ontario.

The present quest for renewal in the Roman Catholic Church has been heralded and accompanied by a flowering of biblical scholarship for which all Christians must be profoundly grateful. (A. Wikenhauser’s work on New Testament introduction, for example, has already proved a great boon to those who teach.) It is in this spirit that Father Crehan’s latest contribution to the growing discussion of the Fourth Gospel will be welcomed.

The author’s aim, as stated on the dust jacket, is to make available to clergy, college students, and laymen the results of the most recent Johan-nine researches. The format is that of a series of very brief “essays” on various aspects of the thought of the Gospel, the Epistles, and the Apocalypse—twenty-four in all. The reader is thus presented with a kaleidoscopic survey that cannot fail to impress upon him afresh the amazing depth and richness of New Testament concepts and themes.

Effective as this approach may be in presenting to the non-specialist an up-to-date picture of the nature and range of Johannine ideas, it does have certain serious weaknesses. Most of the topics considered, such as “John’s Concept of Truth,” “The Concept of Life,” “The Logos Doctrine,” and “The Keeper of the Gate,” are treated in virtual isolation from the others; what emerges, consequently, is a theological necklace from which the string has been removed rather than a theology as such. One feels keenly the lack of some preliminary discussion of the nature and purpose of the Gospel, in particular, to provide a framework or basis for what follows. Furthermore, the attempt to deal with so many issues in so short a space often forces the author into a brevity that both tantalizes and frustrates the reader. In the 4½ pages devoted to “John and the Kerygma,” for example, nothing is said about the Cross or the Resurrection of Christ, although both are essential themes. The discussion of Qumran and Old Testament parallels that we are given instead, interesting though it may be, seems to hang suspended on the periphery rather than to emerge from the center of John’s main theological concern. Similarly, in the discussion of the cleansing of the Temple (chap. 10), we are led, somewhat surprisingly, to the doctrine of the bodily assumption of the Virgin Mary, while there is but a fleeting reference to the presentation of Jesus as initiating a radically reformed worship, with its corollary of the Christian Church as Christ’s Body, the new Temple.

Father Crehan accepts without discussion the conclusion of Father Martin-dale (The Catholic Commentary on Scripture, Edinburgh, 1953) that the Apocalypse has the same author as the Epistles and Gospel, i.e., John the Apostle. This estimate of the Revelation will not appeal to most modern scholars and results in what seems to be a strange mixing of otherwise distinctive motifs. The clearest example of this is in a discussion of the “Sign of the Woman” (Rev. 12), where we are led from early patristic exegesis of the passage interpreting the woman as the Church, through much later traditions identifying her as the Virgin Mary, back to the Fourth Gospel where the title “woman” twice given to Mary (John 2:4, 19:26) is regarded as a Messianic sign—a sign of the continuity of the Church, of which she is the mother.

On the positive side, students of the Johannine literature will be grateful for the numerous references to possible parallels in the Qumran and other Jewish sources, as well as to the Fathers. Frequently the author is able to throw fresh light on the difficult problem of the relation between the Gospel of John and the Synoptic Gospels, as in his treatment of the Logos doctrine. The discussion of the discourses of Jesus in John is particularly good in this connection, especially the examination of Bultmann’s claim to find in them the hand of a later editor. Crehan, here as in the rest of the book maintains a conservative position that is based, not upon personal prejudice, but upon solid learning and a command of the relevant materials. Perhaps the best feature of all is the opportunity the book affords for further cross-fertilization of scholarly thinking. Protestant New Testament scholars will continue to welcome the stimulus and encouragement to new avenues of thought provided by those whose background and tradition is in so many ways different from their own.

Whether or not the book will fulfill the aim of providing a fresh appreciation of John’s theology for the laity and parish clergy remains to be seen. This reviewer must confess to some doubt. The work remains a collection of scholarly notes on aspects of Johan-nine thought, rather than a unified presentation of a distinctive theological point of view.

THOMAS W. HARPUR

The Word In Prison

My Chains Fell Off, by Verdon Lamont Hollis (Carlton Press, 1966, 155 pp., $3.50), is reviewed by L. Nelson Bell, executive editor,CHRISTIANITY TODAY.

This is the story of a hardened criminal who reached the dregs of society, was guilty of almost every known crime, and spent many years in prisons. It is a painfully detailed account of human depravity, and of the brutalizing and dehumanizing life within prison walls. It tells of Hollis’s childhood, spent in grinding poverty without any spiritual training—no church, no contact with Christians. Of the 155 pages, 130 are given to utterly frank accounts of crime and debauchery.

Then in the last pages the reader encounters a miracle. The chains fall from Hollis’s soul and spirit, and the ensuing prision years become a time of intense study and an opportunity to witness to the power of a life transformed by Christ.

This conversion story is a modern-day account of the Holy Spirit’s speaking through the Word of God. A Christian inmate gave Hollis a Bible. For a long time he ignored it. Then the Spirit led him to start at Genesis 1:1—“In the beginning God …”—and to keep on reading. Stumbling, spiritually blind, not understanding, but dimly aware of a flickering light, Hollis read on and on. One day in the Psalms he read and prayed, “Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.” At that moment the chains fell off, and he became a new creature in Christ.

The sordid details of this book are the backdrop against which one sees a moving drama of the grace and power of God, another demonstration that the Word of God is “quick and powerful” and is a living Book through which the Holy Spirit continues to speak.

L. NELSON BELL

The Best Thus Far

The Anchor Bible, Volume 16: Psalms I (1–50), introduction, translation, and notes by Mitchell Dahood, S. J. (Doubleday, 1966, 329 pp., $6), is reviewed by Ronald Youngblood, associate professor of Old Testament languages, Bethel Theological Seminary, St. Paul, Minnesota.

At least three times in his recent volume, History, Archaeology, and Christian Humanism, William F. Albright pays glowing tribute to the linguistic and exegetical abilities of his former student, Mitchell Dahood. The book here under review neither faults the appraisal of its author’s esteemed mentor nor disappoints those of us who have been anxiously awaiting its publication.

Jesuit Dahood, a faculty member at the highly prestigious Pontifical Biblical Institute in Rome, is professor there of a discipline that did not exist forty years ago. Today, however, the literature of ancient Ugarit is widely recognized as the most important single tool for a proper understanding of Old Testament Hebrew poetry. Dahood’s fine commentary on the first fifty Psalms is the best example thus far produced to demonstrate the truth of that judgment.

While agreeing that the consonantal Masoretic text of the first third of the Psalter is remarkably well preserved (emendation being required in scarcely half a dozen cases, as, e.g., Ps. 45:4), the author insists that since Masoretic vocalization is late it is therefore frequently misleading. Many of his attempts at textual reconstruction remain unconvincing (for example, his treatment of 2:11), as he himself would readily admit (pp. XLII f.). Nevertheless, in the opinion of the reviewer, the bulk of Dahood’s proposals will stand up well in the light of further investigation. Needless to say, the key to most of his new readings is his extensive knowledge of Ugaritic lexical, grammatical, and literary parallels.

“The bearing of the Ras Shamra tablets on biblical philology is most widely felt in the study and interpretation of prepositions” (p. 189). In addition to the importance of this dictum, the author points to our new recognition of the widespread use of the vocative case, double-duty suffixes and other forms of ellipsis, and the precative perfect as samples of Ugaritic syntactic subtleties that broaden the range of hermeneutical choice for the student of the Old Testament.

Nor does Ras Shamra limit its assistance to linguistic matters, for it aids in theological understanding as well. Dahood adduces many new synonyms in the Psalms for the concepts of God, heaven, and the nether world. Moreover, he notes in them a much more pervasive emphasis on resurrection and immortality than has been allowed by modern Psalter scholarship. Indeed, the generally conservative orientation of his commentary will doubtless be appreciated by its evangelical readers.

The author is at his weakest when citing Akkadian and Amarna parallels, which are far more plentiful than he seems to realize and which would have supported his theses at many points. Even his Ugaritic citations are on occasion undigested (as in divergent translations of the same Ugaritic phrase on pp. 110 and 122). His English renderings of the Psalms also frequently leave much to be desired, consisting far too often of mere sentence fragments (see, for example, 19:4; 19:11 [twice!]; 39:5b; 44:17). The woefully inadequate biblical index should have been either expanded greatly or omitted entirely. It is to be hoped that such flaws (including also a large number of typographical errors) will be corrected in future editions, for Dahood’s impressive and scholarly effort is a worthy addition to the generally excellent Anchor Bible series. One can only look forward with optimistic expectation to the publication of Volume 17 by the same author.

RONALD YOUNGBLOOD

For Laymen

God in the New Testament, by A. W. Argyle (Lippincott, 1966, 224 pp., $2.95), is reviewed by Steven Barabas, professor of theology, Wheaton College, Wheaton, Illinois.

This book, written by the former dean of Regents Park College, Oxford, who is now instructor in New Testament Greek at Oxford University, is part of the “Knowing Christianity” series, which is intended to provide for thinking laymen a reliable but nontechnical presentation of what the Christian religion is all about. The substance of the book is the Whitley Lectures given at two Baptist colleges in Britain.

The author summarizes a great deal of data on the New Testament doctrine of God, and does so very well. He begins with a chapter on the relation between the Old and the New Testament concepts of God, and then deals with important aspects of the Godhead one by one: the sovereignty of God, the fatherhood of God, the Son of God, the Spirit of God, the doctrine of the Trinity, and finally God as the giver of eternal life. The book is almost a systematic theology in miniature, for it treats of such diversified subjects (all, however, related to the God of the New Testament) as the Kingdom of God, election, love, angelology, the Atonement, the Resurrection, and the Second Coming.

Almost every statement Argyle makes is supported with references to Scripture. This makes for slow reading but is helpful to the reader who wants to know the scriptural reason for what is said. Since the book was written for laymen, it is not philosophical or speculative. The author tries to set forth simply and clearly what the New Testament teaches about God. Although presented in outline form, the subject is not over-simplified. Argyle never seems to move about uncertainly in an ethereal atmosphere or to try to hide his ignorance or real views in a thicket of verbiage.

The author belongs to a new school of British scholars who, while fully abreast of the latest research, take the witness of the Bible very seriously. Their attitude toward Scripture is refreshingly reverent. On matters of historical and literary criticism of the Bible, their viewpoint is moderately liberal. For example, whenever Argyle refers to the Epistle of the Ephesians, he says that it was probably written not by Paul but by a disciple of his; and he does not hesitate to say that Luke may have placed a saying of Jesus in a wrong context. He also thinks that those who die without Christ will probably be given a second chance, and that their future will grow ever more painful until they submit to Christ at last (for this he does not, however, give scriptural support). Nevertheless, he has not the slightest doubt of the truth of the main doctrines of Christianity, such as the Trinity, and the deity, resurrection, and virgin birth of Christ. The average layman can profit greatly from this book, although he may be a bit confused by an occasional statement in which Argyle reflects his somewhat liberal viewpoint.

STEVEN BARABAS

Book Briefs

Adventures with God, compiled by Harry N. Huxhold (Concordia, 1966, 230 pp., $3.50). One hundred fifty devotional writings with prayers and Bible readings; for children 8 to 12.

The Last Discourse of Jesus, by G. M. Behler, O. P. (Helicon, 1965, 286 pp., $5.95). A verse-by-verse commentary on St. John’s account of Christ’s farewell to his apostles at the Last Supper.

The Language of the New Testament, by Eugene Van Ness Goetchius (Scribners, 1965, 349 pp., $5.95; also paperback workbook, 277 pp., $2.95). A Greek language text which claims characteristics that will tempt people to study Greek.

Israel’s Sacred Songs: A Study of Dominant Themes, by Harvey H. Guthrie, Jr. (Seabury, 1966, 241 pp., $5.95). A critical study of the poetry of Israel (mostly the Psalms—and only some of them) that sees it not as expressions of propositional truth but as the praise of God by the community of Israel.

Time and History: A Study in the Revelation, by Mathias Rissi (John Knox. 1966, 147 pp., $4.50). A christological approach to the Book of Revelation that derives its essential category of interpretation from the meaning of time and history as disclosed in the cross and resurrection of Christ.

The Old Testament World, by Martin Noth, translated by Victor I. Gruhn (Fortress, 1966. 404 pp., $8). A concise yet comprehensive presentation of the geographical and historical setting of the Old Testament.

The Child’s Book of Psalms, selected by Edith Lowe, illustrated by Nan Pollard; Hear Our Prayer, selected by Sharon Stearns and illustrated by Helen Page; Hear Our Grace, selected and illustrated by Sharon Banigan (Follett, 1966, 44 pp. each, $1 each). Delightful for small children.

The Four Translation New Testament (Moody, 1966, 739 pp., $9.95). Four easy-to-read translations (King James, New American Standard. Williams—In the Language of the People, Beck—In the Language of Today) of the Greek New Testament in parallel columns.

Directors of American Philosophers III, 1966–67 (Archie Bahm, 1966, 514 pp., $12.50). The third biennial compilation of names, addresses, and duties of American philosophers, and an index of philosophical societies and journals.

Our Father: An Introduction to the Lord’s Prayer, by Ernst Lohmeyer, translated by John Bowden (Harper and Row, 1966, 320 pp., $4.95). An analysis and interpretation that blends scholarship and religious understanding.

Looking God’s Way, by Reuben K. Youngdahl (Augsburg. 1966, 170 pp., $3.95). Refreshing sermons in lively style.

The Thought of Teilhard de Chardin: An Introduction, by Michael H. Murray (Seabury, 1966, 177 pp., $4.95).

Bible Sermon Outlines, by Ian MacPherson (Abingdon, 1966. 192 pp., $3.95). Outlines with a wisp of logic and a whisper of content.

Calvin’s New Testament Commentaries: The Acts of the Apostles, Volume I translated by John W. Fraser and W. J. G. McDonald, edited by David W. Torrance and Thomas F. Torrance (Eerdmans, 1965, 410 pp., $6). A good, new translation.

The World Council of Churches: A Study of Its Background and History, by David P. Gaines (Richard R. Smith, 1966, 1,302 pp., $18.50). Complete data on the WCC. A very valuable reference work.

Doing What Comes Supernaturally, by Thomas A. Fry, Jr. (Revell, 1966, 126 pp., $2.95). Short perceptive essays that make good reading.

The Bible and the Schools, by William O. Douglas (Little, Brown, 1966, 65 pp., $3.75). A Supreme Court Justice reflects on Bible reading and prayer in public schools.

My God, Why?: And Other Questions from the Passion, by Wallace T. Viets (Abingdon. 1966. 112 pp., $2.25). Provocative writings often less than biblical.

Sex, Family, and Society in Theological Focus, edited by John Charles Wynn (Association, 1966, 256 pp., $4.95). Up-to-date reading that shows more about how things are than how they ought to be.

No Greater Love: The James Reeb Story, by Duncan Howlett (Harper and Row, 1966, 242 pp., $4.95). The spiritual odyssey that ended in an act of violence in the streets of Selma, Alabama, and galvanized the conscience of a nation.

Crusade Against Hunger, by I. W. Moo-maw (Harper and Row, 1966, 199 pp., $3.95). The story of unsung heroes of the soil, the agricultural missionaries battling starvation and spiritual misery in underdeveloped countries of the world.

Paperbacks

A Handbook of Contemporary Theology, by Bernard Ramin (Eerdmans, 1966, 141 pp., $1.95). Very lucid and trustworthy explanations of the meaning of theological concepts used in contemporary theology. Anyone who reads any theology or modern religious writings will find this little book very valuable.

The Church Inside Out, by J. C. Hoekendijk, translated by Isaac C. Rotten-berg (Westminster, 1966, 212 pp., $1.95). An attempt to make known to the English world an independent, sometimes controversial Dutch figure, a “troubler of Israel.” Here are his thoughts on evangelism, race, and the place and function of the Church in the changed modern world.

The Instant Bible, by Fred M. Wood (New Life Religious Library, 1966, 134 pp., $1). It was bound to come. But this too shall pass.

Brief Outline on the Study of Theology, by Friedrich Schleiermacher, translated by Terrence N. Tice (John Knox, 1966. 132 pp., $2.50).

Nature and God, by L. Charles Birch (Westminster, 1966, 128 pp., $1.45). Nature has the first word, God gets the last—sounding suspiciously like Whitehead and Tillich.

My Comforters, by Helen Good Brenne-man (Herald Press, 1966, 80 pp., $1.50). Written by someone who knows. A wonderful booklet for the ill and handicapped, or even for the short-term hospital patient.

The Holy Spirit in Your Teaching, by Roy B. Zuck (Scripture Press, 1963, 189 pp., $2.45). First published in 1963.

“AND THEY SANG a new song, saying,

‘Worthy art thou to take the scroll

and to open its seals,

for thou wast slain and by thy blood

didst ransom men for God

from every tribe and tongue and

people and nation’”

(Rev. 5:9, RSV).

The redemption of mankind was accomplished by the blood of the Son of God, shed on Calvary’s cross. This is affirmed many times in the New Testament, and the blood sacrifices of the Old Testament pointed toward the death of the Lamb of God, who would take away the sin of the world.

Man’s insistent question, “Why did God have to die for me?,” can be answered only when he understands the nature and depth of sin in the human heart. He must, by the illumination of the Holy Spirit, have some understanding of human depravity before he can appreciate that the cure could be effected only by the death of God’s Son on his behalf.

During forty years of practicing medicine, I repeatedly saw patients who showed, symptoms of great distress but whose sickness could be determined only after X-rays and extensive laboratory tests. To have treated symptoms without seeking out their cause would have made me guilty of quackery, while failure to treat the cause when discovered would have been malpractice.

In the spiritual realm there is an analagous situation. All around, one can see the symptoms of a sick society—that is, the elongated shadow of sin-sick individuals: bitterness, conflicts, crime, broken homes, delinquency (juvenile and adult), trouble and sorrow of every kind. We see a social order sick unto death—and we set up courts of inquiry, commissions, antipoverty programs, and a thousand and one agencies and institutions to treat the symptoms. Even the Church often joins in promoting secular programs while ignoring the one and only cure.

Satan will settle for any treatment that concentrates on symptoms and ignores God’s cure. We think of our generation as intelligent and sophisticated, but it is also lost as long as it ignores God’s solution to its problems. One day the Pharisees complained to Jesus that his disciples ate without the ceremonial washing of their hands. In reply our Lord spoke of the defilement Of sin, and his diagnosis applies equally to all of us: “What comes out of a man is what defiles a man. For from within, out of the heart of man, come evil thoughts, fornication, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, foolishness. All these evil things come from within, and they defile a man” (Mark 7:20–23). A very high percentage of the headlines of any newspaper have to do with one or more of these defiling things listed by our Lord.

At the forefront of the list Jesus put “evil thoughts.” How well he knows us! Little wonder that the Prophet Isaiah cried out, “Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts” (Isa. 55:7a), or that the Apostle Paul admonished us: “Do not be conformed to this world but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may prove what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect” (Rom. 12:2).

Let us again go over the sordid list of sins that proceed from the human heart. Let us eliminate, if we can, any that do not apply to us in either our actual behavior or our unchecked imagination. If we are honest we will be forced to cry out in desperation, “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Rom. 7:24).

The sickness of the human heart is indeed to death—spiritual, eternal death, separation from God. But for this disease of sin, of human tragedy, God has the remedy. It is nothing less than the blood of his Son shed on the Cross of Calvary.

Man may recoil from the thought that his sins required the death of God’s Son, He may insist that blood shed nearly two thousand years ago can have no power today. He may consider a blood-bought redemption to be distasteful. He may refuse to admit the disease of the human heart that separates man from God. And he may refuse to accept by faith the forgiveness of sin that God so freely offers. But the fact remains: This is God’s way and his offer, and there is no other.

Little wonder that our Lord said, “You must be born again.” for redemption is a supernatural act of God’s grace and mercy that demands a new heart.

Salvation has to do with man’s eternal soul. It has to do with those things that mar the spirit and offend a holy God. It is, in fact, nothing less than a miracle of God’s grace offered as a free gift to those who will accept it. Who is man to question how God saves?

The writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews gives this solemn warning: “A man who has violated the law of Moses dies without mercy at the testimony of two or three witnesses. How much worse punishment do you think will be deserved by the man who has spurned the Son of God, and profaned the blood of the covenant by which he was sanctified, and outraged the Spirit of grace?” (10:28, 29).

God has provided the detergent of the ages in the blood of his Son. It, and it alone, can atone for the guilty sinner and make him clean in God’s sight. Who is man to look askance at God’s offer?

The Apostle Paul, who cried out under conviction of sin and asked who could deliver him from spiritual death, went on to answer his own question: “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Rom: 7:25a).

The Holy Spirit, speaking through Paul, goes on to answer every honest inquirer: “For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do: sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the just requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit” (Rom. 8:3, 4).

Our Lord diagnosed the desperate disease of the human heart and then gave himself to provide the divine cure. Deep in the human heart are the seeds of every evil deed. Proffered from the Cross is the perfect cure. The depth of man’s depravity is exceeded only by the greatness of God’s love.

The divine X-ray reveals “evil thoughts, fornification, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, foolishness.” Christ says, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father, but by me” (John 14:6), and he describes the agent of redemption, “This is my body which is given for you.… This cup which is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood” (Luke 22:19b, 20b).

Our redemption is blood-bought. Just as we do not question the antibiotic or surgical procedures by which we are cured of a disease, so we should say, “God forbid that we should question his means of redemption from sin!”

THE EDITOR

Religious professionals took the lead in crucifying Jesus of Nazareth; now they are conspiring to kill the Living God also.

Standing by, consenting, and in fact strongly advocating the death of God, are numerous theologians. In Christian schools they seek to rally a task force of confirmed God-slayers. The ranks include Altizer at Emory University (Methodist), Hamilton at Colgate Rochester Divinity School (Baptist), and in some respects Van Buren at Temple University (interdenominational).

A full public hearing of their views is encouraged by the ecumenical Sanhedrin. Their faith-and-order dialogue easily and swiftly seems to embrace almost every theological novelty. Meanwhile, it largely ignores traditional evangelical views or disdains them as heresy—the sole heresy-at that—even though biblical supernaturalism is not only the historic faith of Christianity but also the sincere faith of most churchgoers.

Conflict over the supernaturalism of the Bible is age-old. In the ancient world, both Judaism and Christianity contended constantly against polytheistic myths. In the Middle Ages, a mist of scholastic speculation and popular superstition often beclouded the Living God. Aided by this climate, modern philosophers swiftly recast the God of the Bible to suit their many rationalistic preferences. One anti-biblical theory quickly encouraged another, until Marx dramatically countered Hegel’s God is everything with the atheistic credo: God is nothing, and dialectical materialism everything.

Although anti-supernaturalism is not new, Christian leaders like Billy Graham, Charles Malik, and D. Elton Trueblood remind us that the tide of atheism is rising to unprecedented heights with alarming speed.

“Never in my life,” writes Trueblood, professor of philosophy at Earlham College, “have I known a time when the attacks on the Gospel were as vicious as they are now. I see about me a far more militant atheism than I have ever known, and I see it pressed with evangelistic fervor.”

Evangelist Billy Graham thinks the daring wickedness and unbelief of the modern world, when seen alongside divine judgment on earlier civilizations, may perhaps signal “God’s last great call” to a generation at the brink of destruction.

And the former chairman of the United Nations General Assembly, Charles Malik, notes that while organized society and governments in the Western world have taken no formal, official stand against religion and against Christ, “we see very virulent movements of secularism and atheism.”

This atheistic propaganda is spectacular not only for its scope and savagery but also for its entrenchment in Protestant institutions. A century ago when Ludwig Feuerbach lapsed to the view that a supernatural God is a product of human imagination and desire, his teaching career at Erlangen University, a center of Lutheran theology, ended abruptly. Feuerbach’s revolt against the inherited religion was extended by Lenin’s insistence that the capitalists advanced faith in God in order to comfort the (supposed) victims of their (supposed) exploitation—a theory that required the crudest of caricatures of the Founder of Christianity, the carpenter of Nazareth. But the revolt against Christianity carried Communists like Stalin, once a Greek Orthodox seminarian, outside the church in their defection to atheistic naturalism. Today, however, scholars disseminate their God-is-dead propaganda from Protestant institutions whose support comes from sacrificial, devout believers interested in promoting Christ’s Gospel. As Trueblood comments, “Some of the most damaging attacks on the validity of the Gospel are coming from those who claim some kind of marginal connection with Christianity.”

At the Montreal Faith and Order Conference of the World Council of Churches, a Russian Orthodox churchman told New Testament scholars of the Bultmann school (which contends that the miracles of the Bible are myths) that “in Russia we do not need theologians to tell us” that the gospel miracles are myths: this is part of the Communist creed.

Few people would deny another’s right to be an atheist (although the Roman Catholic Church only recently faced the issue of one’s right to be a Protestant). But for the sake of God and integrity let such propaganda be peddled not in Christian schools but in institutions dedicated to unbelief.

The current point of crisis in theism—namely, belief in a supernatural mind and will—is a by-product of the nineteenth-century modernist defection from the historic Christian faith. Radical German higher critics presumed to derive biblical religion from an evolutionary process that dispensed with supernatural being and revelation. Brilliant scholars like Cyrus H. Gordon and William F. Albright have long since exposed the indefensible rationalistic bias of these critics. Albright considers virtually all their arguments against early Israelite monotheism “as invalid and some of them as quite absurd” (History, Archaeology, and Christian Humanism, McGraw-Hill, 1964, p. 99). One God appears throughout all the history of Israel as an indictment against the multitude of deities cherished in the pagan world. The Canaanites named seventy, and the Babylonians alone listed thousands of divine names. But the Old Testament names one God alone who is in supreme control of reality, one God over all nature, over all men and nations.

What radical German critics could not fully achieve in their evolutionary assault on the religion of the Bible, German philosophers have more nearly accomplished. Their prejudices have often been borrowed and carried to still further extremes by enterprising, crusading Americans mounting an attack on the reality and claim of the Living God.

Almost everywhere in non-evangelical Protestant theology today, there links the destructive notion—so unstable a basis for faith, so highly serviceable to unbelief—that man can have no cognitive knowledge of transcendent Being, no rational knowledge of the supernatural world. For almost a century modern theology has built its “case for Christianity” on this highly vulnerable foundation. Time and again the superstructure has bent in the winds, and periodically it has even tumbled. But the architects of religious liberalism have simply erected new skyscrapers atop the crumbling ruins. It remained for the death-of-God theologians to find the courage to be consistent and, instead of trying to float religious principles in midair, to level them to the ground.

Behind this malformation of contemporary theology stands Immanuel Kant, who two centuries ago tried in a highly vulnerable way to salvage remnants of a supernaturalistic view from the supposedly scientific attacks of David Hume. A thoroughgoing empiricist, Hume virtually reduced reality to sense impressions and man to animality.

In his reply, The Critique of Pure Reason, Kant granted to Hume what neither Augustine nor Luther nor Calvin would have conceded, nor before them Moses, Isaiah, and Paul. In a costly surrender, Kant contended that all man’s knowledge comes from sense experience alone.

Ever since Kant’s influence affected modern theology, evangelical theologians have protested this needless relinquishment of cognitive knowledge of the spiritual world. They have emphasized that the God of the Bible is a rational God; that the divine Logos is central to the Godhead and is the agent in creation and redemption; that man was made in the divine image for intelligible communion with God; that God communicates his purposes and truths about himself in the biblical revelation; that the Holy Spirit uses truth as a means of persuasion and conviction; and that Christian experience includes not simply a surrender of the will but a rational assent to the truth of God. In brief, although fundamentalist theology was lampooned for half a century as anti-intellectual, nothing is clearer than the fact that in American Protestantism, only the evangelical movement energetically espoused the role of reason in religion.

The non-evangelical movements, meanwhile, increasingly minimized the place of reason in religious experience. Three times in the twentieth century the formative theology of Europe has collapsed, and in America the God-is-dead aberration now has emerged as its most widely publicized successor. There is an inner logical connection between these developments; namely, the inadequate reply of contemporary theology to Kantian criticism—or, seen from the other side, its failure to insist on rationality as a divine perfection, and on the intelligible character of divine revelation and of Christian experience.

The road from Ritschl’s modernism to the atheism of Altizer and Van Buren is not so circuitous as liberal Protestant seminaries imagine. One can get there swiftly by not allowing fancy rhetoric to detour him from attention to logical implications. A course in neo-orthodoxy or in existentialism may provide a long vacation on the way, but only an act of will—and surely not any logical necessity—requires such a delay.

A theological road map of the main route shows something like this: (1) Kant’s philosophy excluded rational knowledge of God, grounded the case for theism in man’s moral nature, and surrendered universally valid religious truth. (2) Ritschlian theology surrendered God’s rational revelation, held that in contrast to scientific truth the truth of religion falls into the sphere of value judgments, and located the essence of Christian experience in man’s trust or surrender of will. (3) Although Barthian theology reaffirmed God’s special self-disclosure and the distinctiveness of Christianity as the only redemptive revelation, it espoused its own inadequate theory of religious knowledge: divine revelation is assertedly not communicated in objective historical events, concepts, and words, but consummated dialectically in individual response. (4) Existential theology extended this emphasis on personal encounter (as against rational, propositional revelation) by dismissing all historical props and logical supports for faith. Said Bultmann: The Bible gives us, not new truth about God, but new truth about ourselves. Spurning the miracles as myths, Bultmann contended that faith is existential and rests in the apostolically preached Christ rather than in the Jesus of history.

The obscurity of God has, in fact, been a necessary consequence of every recent theology that asserts the reality of God and also his non-objectivity and yet concedes that religious experience nowhere includes universally valid religious knowledge. While existentialist theologians correlate the “silence” of God with existential awareness of Divine presence, the most influential existentialist philosophers turn this emphasis on God’s “absence” in quite another direction. Heidegger both denies God’s “existence” and revives Nietzsche’s emphasis on the “death of God.” Sartre views the silence of “the Transcendent” as among life’s profoundest problems, while Jaspers reduces the search for God to essentially “a search after the self”—a quest for divine reality in the primal depths of our own being.

It is therefore quite understandable that (5) Paul Tillich, who likewise viewed faith as existential rather than as rational, considered all qualities ascribed to the Unconditioned as symbolic, and not as literally true. Thus Tillich inverted the central emphasis of both neo-orthodox and existential theology on God’s self-disclosure; personality lost its status as an inherent perfection of divinity and instead became a way of viewing the Unconditioned in relation to us. As against a supernatural deity independent of the cosmos, Tillich deliberately emphasized the Unconditioned ground of all being, a god of the depths; transcendence survived mainly as a notion of the limit or boundary.

Significantly, the God-is-dead school found encouragement in Tillich’s theology of the impersonal Unconditioned, so deliberately contrasted with the transcendent personal God of the Bible. A more profound symbolism than any Tillich himself postulated is the fact that his death came shortly after a conference in which Altizer singled him out as spiritual father of the secular theologians. A passage from a recent book by J. Rodman Williams serves to illuminate this ready transition of existential theories to the secular point of view: “Existentialism, philosophical and theological, atheistic and non-atheistic, non-Christian and Christian, is quite closely related to the obscurity of God. It matters not whether this be the ‘silence of God’ (Sartre), the ‘absence of God’ (Heidegger), the ‘concealment of God’ (Jaspers), the ‘non-being of God’ (Tillich), or the ‘hiddenness of God’ (Bultmann).… The obscurity of God might indeed be called ‘the Eclipse of God’” (Contemporary Existentialism and Christian Faith, Prentice-Hall, 1965, pp. 63f.).

The penalty now being extracted from Protestant ecumenism for its increasing suppression of evangelical theology is the dooming of its own religious alternatives to irrationalism, and the inevitable decline of those alternatives to the silent contemplation of the death of God.

In a series of swift strokes, we may summarize this tragic twentieth-century decline from historic Christian theism to current secular atheism:

Historic Christianity expounds objective rational theism; that is, it affirms God’s intelligible revelation and man’s created capacity to know the supernatural in valid propositions.

Post-Kantian liberalism teaches objective non-rational theism; here faith is no longer thought to include intellectual assent to divinely revealed truths but is viewed as personal trust and obedience.

Neo-orthodoxy (dialectical theology) proclaims nonobjective non-rational theism; here the radical transcendence of God is said to preclude objective rational revelation, and individual response replaces propositional disclosure.

Existentialism depicts non-objective, non-rational, non-miraculous theism; here miracles are downgraded to myth, and the supernatural survives merely in the attenuated form of elements of experience that transcend scientific inquiry.

Tillich’s “Unconditioned” signifies non-objective, non-rational, non-miraculous, non-supernatural, non-personal theism; here the supernatural yields to the ground of being, while personality and all other attributes are regarded as symbolic rather than as literal representations.

Death-of-God speculation then yields non-theism.

Who Said ‘God Is Dead’?

Mahatma Gandhi was once approached by an atheist with the request to organize and promote an anti-God society. Gandhi replied, “It amazes me to find an intelligent person who fights against something which he does not at all believe exists.”

That incident reminds me of one that happened in Germany. A pastor entered a tavern where a man, wishing to embarrass him, rose and suddenly called out quite loudly, “Es gibt keinen Gott” (“There is no God”). The pastor went to him, calmly laid his hand on his shoulder, and said, “Friend, what you have said is not at all new. The Bible said that more than 2,000 years ago.” The man replied, “I never knew that the Bible made such a statement.” The pastor informed him, ‘Psalm 14, verse 1, tells us, ‘The fool says in his heart, there is no God.’ But there is a great difference between that fool and you. He was quite modest and said it only in his heart; he didn’t go about yelling it out in taverns.”—THE REV. MARTIN P. DAVIS, German Ministry, Phillipus United Church of Christ, Cincinnati, Ohio.

Before examining the argument presented by the God-is-dead contenders, one might well ask what gives their views a semblance of credibility. Even in biblical times the temptation apparently arose to serve as God’s pallbearer; but the Psalmist’s statement, “The fool hath said in his heart, ‘There is no God,’” suggests not only that unbelief is high folly but also that the fool had enough discretion to keep his unfounded doubts to himself. As a theology, the death-of-God view is doubtless unworthy of serious consideration; for if God is really dead, theology (the science of God) has lost its object and becomes sheer nonsense. But what is it that now lends the semblance of credibility to this increasing doubt about the reality of the supernatural?

Who of us cannot give an answer? And surely the reply need not begin with science, for the real place to begin is with the problem of preoccupation with the things of this world.

We plunge into this preoccupation from our very childhood, even from the cradle. Every waking moment we seem driven to physical adjustment, but what necessity is ever laid upon us for spiritual decision?

My mother was Roman Catholic and my father Lutheran; in a sense, I was nurtured at the juncture of the Protestant Reformation. Yet we had no prayers at home, nor Bible reading, nor grace at table. There was chinch at Christmas and Easter, and we children were sent to an Episcopal Sunday school. There, just before my confirmation, the parish priest learned to his dismay that I had never been baptized; within a few days, accordingly, I was both baptized and confirmed. I still vaguely remember the priest’s words to the godparents: “Seeing then, dearly beloved, that this child is now regenerate, and an inheritor of the promises of God.…” But I was no more regenerate than a Sears Roebuck catalogue. And I was a stranger to God’s promises.

As a pagan newspaperman on Long Island in my twenties—editor of a suburban weekly, and stringer for New York dailies like the Times and the Herald-Tribune—f had “enough experience” (or “little enough”) of “Christianity” to consider God a candidate for the obituary page.

If what the God-is-dead faddists mean is merely that the Deity is widely ignored as irrelevant and even obscured in much of the churchianity of our times, then I am quite ready to join their picket line against this high outrage. But I do not believe that this is all they mean, nor that it is the most important factor for assessing their views. Yet we dare not allow the fact of this cultural irrelevance of the Living God to be lost on us.

What of the multitude of members who consider church attendance, even it only sporadic, as little more than a respectable cultural custom, and who shun active identification and evangelistic engagement?

What impression of spiritual priorities do representatives of our so-called Christian nations make upon the pagan world?

Do not most statesmen conduct their political dialogue in the United Nations with no consideration of the will of God in national affairs?

Do we not promote staggering scientific successes as if human destiny depended more upon space exploration than upon human regeneration?

Is not the pearl of great price, for which Jesus said a wise merchant would exchange all that he had, still the most neglected commodity in our free-enterprise market?

Are not many intellectuals on our campuses now weighting thought against belief in the supernatural?

How neglected must God be, to be culturally and academically dead?

And what about those of us who are recognized as symbols of Christian commitment? How does our personal identity reflect our profession of the reality of God? What difference does it make in me as a person that the range of human experience includes the possibility of a relationship with the Living God? How does this reality bear on the routines of life—on fidelity to conscience, on fidelity in work, on fidelity in love? What do we do and say and think that demonstrates the presence of God in our lives? What discernible difference does it make today that we know God lives, and that Jesus Christ, the Son of the Living God, is risen from the dead?

Let me answer for the many thousands who would jump to their feet at this point.

When I was first challenged to believe, to confess Christ personally as my Saviour, to yield my life to the Living God, I realized from the moment of conversion that the New Testament does not exaggerate the contrast between faith and unbelief by its analogies of life and death, of light and darkness, of hope and doom. To know God personally, to share the forgiveness of sins, to experience the energy of the Holy Spirit in one’s life, to enter into Christ’s victory over sin and death—can anything be compared to this spiritual breakthrough except the discovery of a whole new world overflowing with life and power and purity and joy? Those who know that the Living God spectacularly transforms human lives dare to pray that in our fast-fading century some dark-skinned African may rise as a modern Augustine, or that Mao Tse-Tung may yet become the Billy Graham of Asia.

True as it is in our day, as in Paul’s, that “not many wise, not many mighty, not many noble” give their earthbound hearts to Christ, yet the cloud of witnesses is diverse and innumerable.

Billy Graham recalls a day when, putting the promises of God to the test, he found a spiritual reality about which he could not remain silent. “To many who are perishing in their sins, it is foolishness; but to us who are saved the Gospel is the power of God,” says Graham. “After nineteen hundred years, the Gospel has lost none of its ancient power.”

Charles Malik, too, recalls his spiritual revolt and rescue in essentially New Testament terms: “I meant to kill him [Christ] but I did not succeed. He triumphed over my evil desire. He lives now and sits gloriously on the right hand of God. I am cleansed from my sins because he actually and completely died exactly as I meant him to, but through the power of God, he actually and completely rose from the dead on the third day.… I beg his forgiveness, and what overpowers me is that he forgives me.”

Nor will the secular theologians succeed in their attempt to kill God, their bold plan to make religion effective by deleting its supernatural elements. These professional pallbearers, hired by the Devil, who advocate God’s death ostensibly to make Christianity relevant to the modern man, are motivated by concerns quite apart from the weak power of supernatural realities over modern life. They actually insist on God’s necessary irrelevance and unreality. They attack the existence of a transcendent spiritual realm, repudiate supernaturally revealed truths and precepts, and administer last rites to the God of the Bible.

What grounds do they claim for their case? Science, they say. So, whereas Christianity was really the mother of Western science, these academicians, not content to tolerate her even as a disaffected mother-in-law, now aim to banish the religion of the Bible as a veritable outlaw.

Empirical science, we are told, precludes any knowledge of supernatural entities; therefore the Christian religion can survive in our time only by eliminating all supernatural and transempirical elements. In keeping with this conviction, secular theologians discard the metaphysical aspects of revealed religion and reduce the relevant subject matter of theology to what is historical, human, and ethical. According to Van Buren (who assures us that, after all, only this ingredient is essential), what remains of Christianity is the man Jesus—his life and death and availability for others, his values, and the contagion of his perspective. In a word, 1966-styled Christianity is Jesus’ example of agape (love).

The secular theologians rest their case on a series of highly vulnerable assumptions. They blunder, in fact, in six respects.

The first blunder is their veneration of empirico-scientific categories as the filter for screening the whole of reality. Whoever considers this methodology as all-inclusive is automatically trapped in nature.

The second blunder is their naive notion that agape (or the moral value distinctively associated with Jesus) is really discerned and validated by this empirico-scientific approach. No less ardently than the American God-slayers, the Communists appeal to science to support their dogmas; and they scorn any appeal to agape as needlessly impeding the realization of a state-stipulated ethic by swift and violent revolutionary means.

The third blunder of the secular theologians is their notion that contemporary science tells how the universe is objectively structured. While nineteenth-century science entertained that presumption, twentieth-century science is more modest and presumes to tell us only what works. Most scientists, happily, are more ready to revise their notions about nature than many theologians their strange dogmas about what scientific theory demands. When Bultmann, for example, proposes an up-to-date revision of biblical cosmology in the name of science, he quite forgets that contemporary science no longer stipulates the objective constitution of reality. Thus he perpetuates a discarded nineteenth-century scientific mood.

The fourth blunder of the secularists is their selective appeal only to those scientists who share their naturalistic bias. Yet hundreds of highly qualified scientists earnestly believe in the reality of the supernatural and in the relevance of revealed religion. The American Scientific Affiliation is composed of professional scientists who espouse biblical theism. In a recent essay, Dr. Vannevar Bush of Massachusetts Institute of Technology declares it a misconception “that scientists can establish a complete set of facts about the universe, all neatly proved, and that on this basis men can securely establish their personal philosophy, their personal religion.… Science never proves anything, in an absolute sense.… On the most vital questions, it does not even produce evidence” (“Science Pauses,” in Fortune Magazine, May, 1965). Dr. Bush goes on to warn against leaning on science “where it does not apply.”

The secularists’ fifth blunder is to believe that they can reject the Living God and yet retain the Jesus of the Gospels. For Jesus acknowledged Simon Peter’s confession of him as “the Son of the living God” (Matt. 16:16) and attributed this recognition to God’s special disclosure. If he was mistaken about God, why should Jesus be trusted about the good? Even Nietzsche sensed that the death-of-God requires the renunciation of Jesus Christ and called for a “transvaluation” of Christian values—that is, for an overthrow of the morality of agape and a return to the old pagan views.

The sixth blunder is a confusion of corpses. It is not God but man the sinner who is dead—“dead in trespasses and sins,” as the Bible says, and in need of supernatural rescue.

There would be less misunderstanding if “secularized Christianity” were openly paraded not as an authentic revision but as an alternative religion. For more than a century, the makers of modern theology have offered every new fashion with the sales pitch that only this scantier version was guaranteed to appeal to the modern consumer. These trim reductions have attracted no permanent patrons, however; they have merely excited the modern appetite for more abbreviated styles. The death-of-God proposal now represents the bare exhaustion of possibilities; modern man ends up with a lifeless mannequin.

When introducing each successive style as the intellectual requirement of the modern mind, the promoters of these supposed religious fashions of tomorrow have simply indulged in special pleading. Either modern man is of all men most fickle, and wholly unable to make up his mind, or he has not really demanded—as recent generations were assured in sequence—the Kantian philosophy, the Ritschlian theology, the dialectical theology, the existentialist theology, and now (as Altizer thinks) the death of God.

Evangelist Billy Graham has said that “modern atheism is as dated as last week’s weather,” while Bishop Gerald Kennedy reminds us that “apostolic evangelism is as fresh as tomorrow.” The choice before the modern world remains the Gospel of Christ or the fables of men. Man is made for God, and without God he is not wholly man; the godless myths hold promise only for the making of monsters. To accept the death-of-God view is to head into a dead end for hope, for purity, and for spiritual renewal in our time.

When the Southern Baptist Convention met in 1962, messengers adopted a significant motion reaffirming their faith “in the entire Bible as the authoritative, authentic, infallible Word of God.” A separate motion registered their objection to “the dissemination of theological views in any of our seminaries which would undermine such faith in the historical accuracy and doctrinal integrity of the Bible.” In an address on May 23 to the Pastors’ Conference of the annual convention, held in Detroit, Dr. Clark H. Pinnock, of the New Testament department of New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary, pointed out that belief in biblical inspiration and authority lies at the heart of Southern Baptists’ historic witness and is crucial to the very nature of Christianity. “By its clear stand for biblical authority, this convention of churches holds out to a drifting world an anchor, and to a sick world a remedy,” he said. “Let us continue to believe the Book inspired of God, and increase the clarity of our conviction regarding it.”

Professor Pinnock’s remarks deserve a hearing beyond Southern Baptist circles, and we therefore reproduce them here:

Far from diminishing in intensity, the problem of authority continues to grow in the theological arena toward the closing decades of the twentieth century. Excursions into radical and speculative theology become daily more frequent. Exponents of unbiblical religious systems operate from beneath the umbrellas of the great Protestant denominations with increasing boldness. The chaotic state of American theology today can be traced directly back to an underlying uncertainty about revelation and authority. Our decision to uphold the divine integrity of Scripture must not be left to rest in the minutes and archives; it is a decision to stand resolutely, amid winds of theological change, for an uncompromised and undiluted Gospel, contained only in holy Scripture. The question of biblical inspiration cannot become the plaything of the theological specialist; it is the eminently practical basis of the very Gospel we preach. We do not appeal to the human intellect for the saving knowledge on which our soul’s salvation depends. Man’s mind is the source of endless confusion about the questions that matter most. Nor can we set aside God’s truth to make room for churchly tradition. The Gospel that saved lost men in the first century will suffice to save them in the twentieth. The provision of an inspired Bible was the gracious gift of divine love, the very capstone of the program of redemption, which culminated in Jesus Christ. We have the tremendous privilege of consulting and assimilating this precious transcript of the voice of the living God.

The Holy Scripture are a road map or pathfinder to assist the believer find his way about the spiritual order. A map that explains the direction to the seashore is certainly less exciting than the beach and sand, but it is the indispensable condition for one’s arrival there. A distorted compass or a faulty map can lead to ruin and shipwreck. It is a precious fact, therefore, that our Father gave us a Book we can trust, whose message we can with confidence preach.

A great amount of learned discussion continues to take place about the nature of biblical inspiration and authority, and much confusion still surrounds the subject. The basic solution, however, lies within the grasp of all; it is to ask what view of divine Scripture the Bible itself presents. It is not from Sigmund Freud that a person discovers God’s estimate of human nature and its condition; nor is it from the current consensus of critical scholarship that one determines the nature of inspiration. Every Christian doctrine is established by the same enquiry: What did Christ and the apostles teach about it? Their attitude toward the biblical record is the only one their disciples can hold. Inspiration is a biblical concept, treated in the documents themselves. Christianity worthy of the name holds to the position taught by our Lord and his apostles. Essentially the teaching is this:

1. Scripture is God-breathed (2 Tim. 3:16). The term “inspiration” refers, not to the impression made upon the mind of the reader, but to the unique character of Scripture as the infallible Word of God. “What the Scripture says, God says” expresses biblical teaching. This is the trustworthy utterance of the living God. The Bible does not err, because God cannot lie. Its accuracy is guaranteed by the trustworthiness of God (John 10:35).

2. The information Scripture conveys is reliable and true. It cannot deceive or mislead us. This is the sense of “infallible.” In it are contained revealed truths capable of saving men. Divine truth is not just “the way you see it”; it is reality as God declares it to be. Apostolic doctrine is not first-century human speculation about an undefined symbol like the cross or about a bare religious experience. It is saving truth guaranteed by the Holy Spirit and deposited in a Book that does not err.

3. The truth of Scripture does not facie out in the area of doctrine, nor of historical fact. The attempt to narrow down the field of reliability cannot evade the simple fact that Scripture in its parts and Scripture in its entirety is to be trusted and relied upon. Our infallible Bible is the gift of divine love. As a faulty prescription from a doctor could poison the patient, so belief in an error-ridden Bible can undermine the foundation of our certainty in the Gospel itself. The message of salvation through the finished work of Christ set forth clearly in the pages of the Bible is the very remedy required by our drifting and confused generation. Revival will never come if Christians dishonor the character of revelation by failing to recognize the divine authority of Scripture. Real renewal will transform the Church when it decisively puts away its vain imaginations and proclaims again the plain teachings of Scripture. We have one source of authority, the Bible, “the authoritative, authentic, infallible Word of God.” It is our perennial task and privilege to make unequivocal our stand on its integrity and reliability. To do so will lead us to swim against the stream today. But in the last analysis to do it will be to place history in our debt.

The First Twenty Dollars

After morning worship at Tremont Temple recently, a few of us were discussing the possibilities of the proposed Institute of Advanced Christian Studies during Sunday dinner at Boston’s Parker House. When this writer mentioned that there are 40 million evangelical Protestants in the United States, and that if they gave only a dollar each they could underwrite a great evangelical enterprise almost immediately, things began to happen. Gordon Sanders of the city desk of the Boston Herald-Traveler, said “Here’s my dollar!” Dr. E. Joseph Evans made it two. On the way to the bank to open an account, this writer added the third. Ken Birgfeld, vice-president of American Security and Trust Company in Washington, D.C., remarked: “Good idea; here’s mine.” When we recalled the experience at home, the lady of the house added: “This makes it five.”

We mentioned the matter during staff devotions at CHRISTIANITY TODAY, and six of our colleagues unobtrusively added their dollars. Dr. Bill Bright of Campus Crusade for Christ, Dr. Don Hustad, organist for the Billy Graham crusades, and Dr. Stanley Mooneyham, coordinator for the World Congress on Evangelism, wanted to be among the first. George M. Rideout, president of Babson’s Reports, gave the fifteenth dollar. When we sent our magazine receptionist to the bank, she added her dollar to the deposit.

A missionary from Santiago, Chile, has become the first from Latin America to take part. And Dr. Clyde Taylor, general director of the National Association of Evangelicals, gave the twentieth dollar.

The Institute of Advanced Christian Studies, as we were saying, could come into being almost by a miracle if 40 million evangelicals were to ask one another: “Have you given your dollar?”

Thirteenth-Century Thinking In Boston

Responsible spokesmen for the Roman Catholic Church made it clear at the Conference on Theological Issues of Vatican II, held recently at the University of Notre Dame, that pronouncements from such ultra-conservatives as Alfredo Cardinal Ottaviani, particularly as they relate to church-state relations and to family limitation, often reflect the thinking of but a small minority within the church. Therefore, it came as somewhat of a surprise to lead in the Boston Globe for April 21 that State Representative Charles Ianello of the Roxbury district of Boston urged the Massachusetts Commonwealth Assembly to postpone a vote on the amendment liberalizing the 1879 law on birth control until “the House gets a green light or a red light from Rome.” Happily, the legislative body rejected his plea. One cannot but marvel at a legislator who openly calls for this thirteenth-century procedure in matters of public policy in our pluralistic society.

Representative Ianello commented further that in his opposition he had in mind the protection of unmarried women, adding that married women “can take care of themselves.” This has a strangely odd sound, coming from Roxbury, where, if social workers may be believed, the percentage of chain-pregnancy, child-a-year married couples is higher than in any comparable place in the nation. It would be instructive for the public to know what Mr. Ianello regards to be the proper steps by which married women in his constituency “take care of themselves.”

Cardinal Cushing, universally respected for his enlightened concern in social issues, might well take this opportunity to press for aggiornamento with the representative from Roxbury.

Bishop Pike Steps Down

Many people will breathe more easily now that Bishop Pike has resigned as Episcopal-Bishop of California, though they will be saddened that things have come to this pass (see News, p. 49). While resignations can be refused, there reportedly is “no doubt whatever” that the House of Bishops will accept this one, effective July 15. Probably many of Pike’s fellow bishops will sigh with relief as he leaves for a secular post in Santa Barbara.

Dr. Pike has not renounced his clerical orders, nor has his church unfrocked him. He remains a bishop but without a charge. Yet it is clear that the bishop’s recent theological meanderings do not represent Episcopal conviction. And the use of his name in connection with the so-called Blake-Pike plan has been an embarrassment to ecumenists.

We predict for Bishop Pike a diminishing theological influence once he leaves his diocesan post, though he will then be free to publish wider-ranging and more radical pronouncements than have come from him so far.

However the change of leadership in the Diocese of California originated, the Episcopal Church has suffered no great loss. Indeed, its image is bound to improve as a consequence.

A Turning Point

All Christians are obligated to take seriously their responsibilities as citizens. Thus the recent primary elections in Alabama are of more than political interest. It is a heartening sign that for the first time since Reconstruction many thousands of Negroes voted, and that they did so, as Attorney General Nicholas Katzenbach said, “freely and comfortably.” The exercise of the franchise is no prescription for a perfect society, which, because of man’s fallen nature, will not exist this side of heaven. Yet voting is an essential ingredient of democracy, and its absence threatens the system and leads to the decline of a people.

What happened on May 3 will be remembered as a turning point in the exercise of voting rights by all Americans. May the Alabama primaries stand as a hopeful prophecy for the well-being of our democracy.

Honesty And The Offering Plate

From time to time we hear of shocking accounting procedures in churches. Often a speaker is invited to come to a church to tell of the work of his organization or to show a film, and usually the people are led to believe that what they give in the offering plates will go to the organization whose work has been presented. But this does not always happen.

We learned recently of a deserving group whose representative spoke to some two hundred people in an evening service. Having experienced some odd accounting in other churches, he put twenty-five dollars in small bills in the offering plate as an experiment. When he received the honorarium for his organization, he found it to be twenty-two dollars. What happened to the rest of the offering he never learned.

If this were an isolated instance, one might assume that there was a reasonable explanation. But such things happen too frequently, and too many good people have suffered in silence from dishonesty in the house of God. If an offering is taken for a cause, all of it should go to that cause. To hold back any of the money is stealing, whether it is done by a church or by a robber in a street.

Salute To Integrity

When Pepperdine College of Los Angeles with one mind turned down $1,000,000 rather than compromise its integrity, it rightfully gained wide attention and respect. We salute Pepperdine College for refusing to comply with the condition of the will of the manufacturer of Dr. Ross cat and dog food that broadcaster Dan Smoot be given an honorary doctor’s degree within six months.

It is more difficult than most of us know to say nay to $1,000,000. That Pepperdine is an independent Christian college dependent on gifts for its financing did not make the decision easier. The school needs money, but it did the right thing. Not only an honorary degree but also Pepperdine’s own honor was at stake. Its action will doubtless prompt other benefactors to give Pepperdine some added thought when making bequests.

Pepperdine acted on principle and presented a shining example of the “old morality.” One wonders what the outcome would have been, had the issue been decided on the basis of that “new morality” which rejects all moral principles.

What happens to evangelical concerns in the “ecumenical consensus”?

In closing remarks to the United States Conference of the World Council of Churches, Dr. Eugene Carson Blake, the WCC’s next general secretary, expressed impatience with conservative Protestants who lack enthusiasm for the ecumenical movement because of its inclusive stance. His comments can scarcely be viewed as aimed at other than evangelical Protestants, who on the American scene number more than 40 million. Of these, two-fifths are inside the conciliar movement—many discernibly restive in their association—while three-fifths remain outside.

“Some believe they hold a corner on evangelical concern,” Dr. Blake complained, in warning delegates from twenty-eight major American denominations against sharply contrasting saints with sinners or theologically literate with theologically illiterate Christians. Deploring “the labeling sin of churchmen,” he stressed that the Christian task is not essentially one of judgment.

Dr. Blake’s remarks, reports Harold Schachern, religion editor for the Detroit News, were “an obvious reply” to a paper presented at the Buck Hill Falls Conference (by invitation of the WCC American Committee, on the topic of evangelicals and ecumenical developments) by the editor of CHRISTIANITY TODAY (see page 10). If this is actually Dr. Blake’s response, he apparently expresses a flat No! to suggested patterns of ecumenical reform that would stimulate evangelical interest in the conciliar movement.

“I get a little tired,” Dr. Blake is quoted as saying, “of those who somehow suppose that others who engage in ecumenism or social action, or leave the beaten track in search of answers, somehow are not interested in the Gospel and evangelism and the other things that are essential to every Christian belief.”

For an ecumenical stalwart who assertedly promotes a church “evangelical, catholic and reformed,” Dr. Blake’s interest in what evangelicals are thinking seems swiftly to have worn thin. For few evangelicals think that anybody has a corner on the evangelical movement (its organizational plurality ought to make that fact clear), but hundreds of thousands of them—in fact, we dare to suggest that tens of millions of them in America alone—have an uneasy feeling that some ecumenists would like to paint them into a corner. Dr. Blake contends that an “ecumenical consensus” is “guiding most of the churches in America today” and that “many fearful conservatives do not realize that the restatement of the ancient biblical faith and its defense is in fact the number one duty of the Church in our time.” So he indicated at Princeton Theological Seminary in his first public address as WCC general secretary-elect.

Ecumenical anxieties run high not only among evangelicals outside the conciliar movement but also among evangelicals inside the movement. If Dr. Blake does not sense this, he is less a student of the times than we have credited him with being. At the New Delhi general assembly, the WCC prominently publicized the entrance of the Pentecostals of Chile into the conciliar movement; why does it not give equal publicity to the recent exodus? The dilution of evangelical concerns within conciliar ecumenism encourages evangelicals inside the World Council to strengthen their transdenominational evangelical ties, and it discourages evangelicals outside from interest in conciliar ecumenism. The views of the evangelical clergy are not representatively reflected in the so-called ecumenical consensus. While it is true that the Protestant clergy outside the conciliar movement in the United States are evangelical, and that the bulk of non-evangelical clergy are in the conciliar movement, the number of conciliar clergymen who are theologically evangelical ought not to be misjudged. In the United States there are 250,000 ministers with charges—including Roman Catholics, Mormons, Jews, and so on. The NCC lists 144,000 churches and 113,482 clergymen having charges. In CHRISTIANITY TODAY’S scientific sampling of beliefs of the Protestant clergy in 1957, 20 per cent of the clergy indicated their subscription to non-evangelical (modernist or neo-orthodox) views. It one assumes, as seems likely, that the great majority of these non-evangelical clergy are in the conciliar movement (26 per cent of 200,000 in the sampling), then at least half the conciliar clergy in American Protestant ranks—even allowing for increasing ecumenical dilution of beliefs and for the theological deterioration of numerous seminaries—should be regarded as evangelical. But no student of ecumenical pronouncements would say that they reflect evangelical concerns in this depth. Ecumenical consensus in its present mood reflects evangelical dilution.

When the term “evangelical” is used in an ecumenical context, American Presbyterians are inclined to sense its significance in the transformation of their denominational seminaries into doctrinal cafeterias; or the loss of their last conservative seminary by United Presbyterian churchmen whose denominational merger was encouraged as promising to increase their evangelical impact; or they see books on death-of-God theology and situational ethics featured in the show-windows of their denominational publishing house while the great denominational classics in theology are forgotten even in the seminaries; or they have fresh memories of the shift of interest from changing individuals to changing political structures in the highly debatable “Confession of 1967.” If Ur. Blake thinks that bold rhetoric alone will placate evangelical anxieties, he has much to learn about evangelical devotion to the Bible and to the Great Commission.

The ecumenical movement regards the Bible, insists Dr. Blake, as “the rich central source” of our Christian belief and practice. Evangelicals want to know whether the Bible still stands, as it did for the Protestant Reformers, as the only infallible rule of faith and practice—and if so, why the “Confession of 1967” sought to erase that commitment.

Dr. Blake deplores the sin of labeling—and we stand more than ready to meet his interest in Christian unity on terms that do not imply that only ecumenically undefined Christianity is standard-brand, and that evangelically defined Christianity (unless ecumenically diluted) is off-brand. In his James J. Reeb Memorial Lecture, at Princeton Seminary, Dr. Blake stated:

The theology that now undergirds the churches, Protestant, Orthodox and Roman Catholic may be summed up in these four major convictions:

a. There is a transcendent God, who has revealed himself in Jesus Christ.

b. Knowledge of this God is found in reading the Bible and understanding what it says in historical context.

c. The heart of Christian faith remains what it has always been. God, who created the universe, is Redeemer through Jesus Christ and he is fulfilling his purpose in history.

d. “Time makes ancient good uncouth,” which fact requires us radically to revise our understanding of what should be expected of followers of Jesus Christ today as contrasted with what was required fifty years ago.

This is not an easy faith, or a minimum faith. This is the traditional faith restated for our times.

We rather think that neither Roman Catholic nor Orthodox Christians would consider this summary an acceptable restatement of the traditional faith for modern times. But of one fact we are sure. It is not adequate for evangelicals worthy of their heritage.

It is difficult to know exactly what to make of the attitude of contemporary ecumenism toward evangelical Christians. One moment influential ecumenical leaders may insist that they themselves are evangelicals; later they may urge all evangelicals to swim in the ecumenical mainstream for the sake of their evangelical witness; or again, they will criticize or deplore evangelical efforts.

One fact is sure. A generation ago liberalism was sufficiently related to reason and logic that it consciously distinguished itself from the evangelical alternative; no modernist wanted to be tagged as an evangelical, conservative, or fundamentalist in theology. Who wanted to be tied to an authoritative Bible? But recent religious speculation has had a different effect through its anti-intellectual, dialectical, and existential temper. Contemporary non-evangelical spokesmen may talk of the Bible as a “normative witness to Christ” or even as an “inspired” Book; but if they insist—as they do—that divine revelation is not rationally given in the form of intelligible, authoritative truths, they have departed from the controlling premise of evangelical Christianity. It is not only an inerrant Scripture that they now reject but the regard for Scripture as an intelligible, authoritative disclosure of God’s nature and will. Liberals who share this rejection of rational revelation (but who wish to be known as evangelicals!) have really departed farther from the Bible than modernists of two generations ago who clung—for a season at least—to the teaching of Jesus as authoritative rational disclosure.

Dr. Blake’s further defense of ecumenism and social action off “the beaten track” serves to fix attention on the continuing involvement of ecumenical leaders in matters of political expediency. While ecumenical spokesmen take every liberty in making controversial political pronouncements, irrespective of their divisive effect upon many congregations, they profess great anxiety over prominent evangelicals whose political comment as individuals might unsettle Communist tempers. It is not evangelicals but ecumenists mainly of a non-evangelical sort who seek to commit the institutional church to specific political positions, while some act behind the scenes to discourage evangelicals from expressing contrary views even as a matter of personal conviction, and sometimes to discredit them. While those who promote social revolution assail those who promote personal redemption, the issues remain of critical concern. It is not enough that here and there an ecumenist privately apologizes for the well-publicized attacks of other ecumenists on evangelicals and stresses that the critic was speaking only for himself. Unless the public is told that the ecumenical movement is unsympathetic to the critic and sympathetic to what he attacked, the public—and particularly the evangelical public—has every right to identify an ecumenical spokesman’s criticism with the movement he represents.

The ecumenical movement will decide its own destiny in its attitude toward evangelical priorities. It is ultimately a matter not of names or numbers but of truth. The title “evangelical” is today used in a variety of references; in Germany it was employed to describe the Lutheran church in distinction from the Roman; in the United States it has occurred in a few denominational titles, such as the Evangelical and Reformed Church and the Evangelical United Brethren Church; in Latin America, it designates Protestants in general. In this sense, of course, no Protestants have a corner on the title. But in the United States, it has been used since the modernist-fundamentalist controversy particularly to designate a conservative or biblical theology over against those that oppose the full inspiration and authority of the Bible and the doctrinal commitments this implies. The National Association of Evangelicals used the term when the leadership of the Federal Council of Churches understood full well that the NAE represented an alternative to the theological commitments of ecumenical leaders, and at that time few ecumenical spokesmen wanted either an evangelical theology or the term “evangelical.” This usage was anticipated by the Evangelical Alliance, formed in Britain in 1846, which espoused biblical theology and evangelism. On a common doctrinal basis, it promoted cooperation of denominational, interdenominational, and nondenominational effort in furthering evangelical objectives. In those days ecumenism as a common cause held out no welcome to modernist deviants from the Bible, either in their plans and proposals to restructure the Christian churches or the Christian faith.

Evangelicals are far from perfection, and in an early issue we plan to speak candidly of some of their flaws. There is good reason for observers of the current scene to point a finger at this or that phase of “evangelicalism” and to doubt whether what appears there really mirrors apostolic Christianity. In many respects we stand far removed from what would have pleased the apostles and need desperately to bring ourselves under the searching scrutiny of the New Testament. If the conciliar movement were an open invitation to that kind of engagement, evangelicals would welcome it. Or at least, evangelicals had better pursue that kind of engagement, in the midst of their uncertainty about the conciliar movement, lest they declare to all the world that their greatest concern is a mere promotion of evangelical self-satisfaction, rather than a burning zeal to serve Christ. In that case, evangelicals will simply be painting themselves into a corner, and the twentieth century will pass them by. But if they resolutely determine to find for themselves the biblical renewal whose absence elsewhere they lament, they can yet restore to twentieth-century Christianity in its last decades the bright luster that has faded in the recent past.

Conception by chance and whim

Your Move

The criticism was leveled at a pedantic friend of mine that he made distinctions where there were no differences, which is a pretty nice way to say it so long as we evade the pitfall of believing that there are no differences and that, therefore, no distinctions should be made.

This sort of thinking is relevant to our ecumenical concerns in these ecumenical days. The rush is on. All kinds of first steps have been made toward uniting the churches, and those who begin to point out some differences will be considered spoilsports for questioning anything that looks so nice. The differences, nevertheless, will still be there; and, as Aristotle pointed out a long time ago, knowledge in the last analysis is the ability to make distinctions. This is a dog, that is a cat. There is no use pretending that it is any other way.

Some weeks ago I was given a tour of inspection at one of our military bases. The chaplains impressed me in many ways but particularly in the way in which they serve as missionaries all over the globe, often in places that missionaries cannot reach. By the nature of their assignment they have to be as ecumenical as possible, and I think that they may be front-runners in the whole ecumenical movement.

But there was a kind of shock in one of the military chapels. I hardly know what to do with it in my own thinking; perhaps sharing it with some others will give them a chance to think about it and a few other related things.

In order to have services for Catholics, Protestants, and Jews, they have had to plan a single building suitable for all three faiths. This chapel had a mechanical arrangement by which a cross could be turned around and be a crucifix, another by which the altar could be moved forward or backward, and another by which the whole Christian worship center could be replaced with another centering on the Star of David. Said my guide almost proudly, “Now we have an adjustable cross and a movable altar.” That’s really ecumenical!

EUTYCHUS II

It’S Great

Delighted to see an issue (April 29) on the theme of world population explosion and the missionary challenge it offers.…

Planned parenthood is a necessity for improving man’s spiritual, moral, and physical well-being. Man was given dominion over all the earth (Gen. 1: 28): certainly this includes control of conception. It is immoral to leave the conception of children to chance or whim. Planned parenthood should be a part of each missionary-medical program. Without it we can only look forward to disasters of war, infanticide, abortion, famine, and disease.

JAMES BRICE CLARK

President

Planned Parenthood of Nebraska

Omaha, Neb.

Your issue of April 29, which has for the theme throughout the subject of evangelism, is the ultimate. Of particular interest is the emphasis upon the increase in population and the theology of evangelism here and there in the issue. You and your staff are all to be commended for the phenomenal perspicacity and insight displayed therein. This should aid many and inspire many in renewing their efforts in the task.

H. LEO EDDLEMAN

President

New Orleans Baptist

Theological Seminary

New Orleans, La.

Congratulations on the issue. It is a profound encouragement and a great challenge to us all. Your forthright magazine is always stimulating, to-the-point, and relevant to the changing needs of today’s Christians.

PAUL RADER, JR.

Senior Editor

Reality Magazine

Minneapolis, Minn.

Altizer Says …

Thank you for the fair treatment given my statement (Dec. 17 issue). Believe it or not, I have more respect for you and your journal than for the middle-of-the-line Protestant publications, and I admire the skill and force with which you present traditional Protestantism even though I think your cause is hopeless.

THOMAS J. J. ALTIZER

Department of Bible and Religion

Emory University

Atlanta, Ga.

As yet the “God is dead” stir has not reached this side of the Atlantic, but it is of interest to me to know from what source the advocates of this “theology” obtained their information—assuming, of course, that it could not be a divine revelation.

CHRISTOPHER MOON

Orpington, Kent, England

I say God is not dead! Man is blind.…

ROBIN KREIDER

Director of Christian Education

First Methodist Church

Garden Grove, Calif.

A More Adequate Treatment

I read “Why Do Men Suffer?” (Apr. 1 issue). I find that this article and the writer really do not answer the question fully. I have done a great deal of research on this problem, and … I am enclosing a copy of my booklet, and hope you will find it helpful—and much more adequate.

Faith Community Church

Palmdale, Calif.

Suffering is the lot of all men (Job 5:7). Man is born to trouble as the sparks fly upward. No one is immune to it in some form at least.…

G. STEWART TIMM

Port Sydney, Ont.

An Appeal For Action

The initial shock that a “God is dead” enthusiast has been teaching at Emory University has given way to a deep concern at the official stand taken by those who represent the university.…

Years ago I entered college in preparation for a teaching career in mathematics. One of my first professors was an atheist, a man who attempted at every turn to cast doubt on Christian beliefs. This man was personable, attractive in appearance, and we could identify with him. Besides, a young boy or girl just out of high school has a subconscious desire for intellectual accord with those whom past experience has shown to be always correct. A learned professor’s ridiculing of one’s faith has a different result than does a religious discussion among students. In the latter a student can hold his own. Lectures by college authorities leave doubters. And it takes years to finally get back the faith once so natural. With me it was ten long years of real inside torment, years when I went to church and left with an empty feeling, years during World War II in England and Germany when I needed God so terribly and couldn’t find him. Then one day after the war, I had a personal experience … that stilled the turmoil and left a quiet knowing. Maybe I was more fortunate than some.

The Methodist Church has established institutions of higher learning for the purpose of providing educational opportunities under Christian influence. But since the universities themselves are committed to the “principle of academic freedom and the rule of tenure for faculty members,” the judgment and foresight of those responsible for faculty recruitment must be unquestionably reliable or the purpose to provide education under Christian influence will fall by the way.

Dr. Thomas J. J. Altizer’s recent publicity has thankfully brought to light the careless approach to this vital area. And the realization that the same employment practices can exist in other of our church schools is frightening.

Dr. Altizer was employed nine years ago to teach religion at Emory University, though not in the School of Theology. To the uninitiated his credentials looked good: a B.A., an M.A. in religion, and a Ph.D. in comparative religion. To Emory’s alumni this must have been impressive. Parents were, no doubt, pleased that their young had such an authority on God. But shortly Altizer was teaching, publishing, and at last going on national TV to proclaim that “God is dead.”

One cannot help but wonder if this man were hired by mail-order. Certainly an in-depth interview nine years ago would have brought to light his far-out thinking. The principles on which his publications were based must have been at least in the beginning stages then.…

Let’s examine the argument that Altizer should be allowed to continue using our university as a platform because we “ought to be confronted with ideas with which we violently disagree.” Our students should certainly be exposed to all great thought, including the controversial. But it does not follow that this is best accomplished by those mainly interested in espousing principles in direct conflict with Christianity.

Methodist families should be assured that if religion is to be taught in their schools, the youth will have the faith of their fathers strengthened, not weakened!… There is no doubt but that a person’s basic philosophy colors his teaching. Therefore does it not make sense that utmost precautions be taken to hire godly oriented men and women? Then if the courses need to be slanted, it will be in that direction. Is not that the least Methodists can expect of their colleges? Is not that the least we in our churches can expect of the universities we work to support?

What is the answer? The elimination of the obviously wrong teachers is only the beginning, for the Altizers are but the symptom of a deeper need. May I suggest—

1. the elimination of that part of the administrative staff which through carelessness or for other reason is responsible for the present employment practice and the hiring of a staff with the judgment and experience to employ qualified persons;

2. the untangling of the conflict between the stated purpose of our church-affiliated schools and the tenure rule for faculty members;

3. the unraveling of the system of red tape that allows only the godly oriented to be sent as teachers to foreign lands but makes no such requirement for its own.

There has been shock and disbelief in our churches, but probably few have written letters or raised their voices. In the sophisticated society of today, it is so much easier to raise an eyebrow. For 1,900 years have passed since the birth of Christ. And 1,900 years is a long time. But you know and I know that if we really cared, really wanted to continue the teachings of our faith, we could somehow and in some way, with no equivocation, make sure the atheists, anti-God crusaders, et al. weren’t offered a platform in our Methodist-affiliated colleges.

Some words written here are strong. But if they spur those at the top to create a godly teaching staff within our Methodist schools, they have been well chosen.

RUTH F. HILL

Leesburg, Va.

Send Your Sermons

I am attempting to conduct a study of the sermonic treatment of the “death of God” theme which has been in the news so much over the past few months.

If any of your readers have discussed the subject from the pulpit, I would deeply appreciate receiving a copy of that sermon.…

JOHN E. BAIRD

Assoc. Prof, of Speech and Homiletics

Phillips University

Enid, Okla.

God’S Premature Funeral

As an interested listener during Thomas Altizer’s visit to Duke University, I find myself greatly engaged by the position he set forth both at that time and in his recent writings. Having a propensity to understand myself as a “secular man,” and having given a good deal of study to contemporary theology and philosophy, I was surprised to find myself profoundly disappointed in his position.… My misgivings center in two main areas.…

First, I find myself disappointed by the epistemological structure which underlies his position. Even if one grants, and this is an extremely large assumption, that “God has died in our history,” the way in which he has developed this idea is, from an epistemological point of view, essentially irresponsible. Throughout his writings he stresses the view that as a result of the death of God our contemporary situation is altogether “new,” and thus Christian theology and the Church must be entirely recast. This emphasis is especially evident in his article in the October issue of Theology Today, “Word and History.” It also came up in his discussion session at Duke, when he replied to a question about the logical status of “death of God language” by affirming that what we need is an altogether new language for faith and theology.

Now, I have no interest in objecting to such an emphasis on the grounds that it fails to show the proper respect for the “faith of our fathers” and/or historical theology. I am, however, convinced that any attempt to cut oneself and one’s age off from the past is as ludicrous as it is unsound. Not only does such a move lead to profound psychological and sociological illness, it also cuts away the very ground of all human existence, thought, and communication. Fortunately, such a move is, in the final analysis, actually impossible, as his own positive use of such past thinkers as Buddha, Jesus, Blake, and Hegel clearly demonstrates.… Granted that change and reconstruction are constantly necessary within the theological enterprise, an absolute dichotomy between the present and the past is as impossible as it is self-defeating!

Another aspect of his epistemological position needs critical scrutiny: his emphasis on mysticism. In his writings on Eliade and in his Duke discussions, he stressed the importance of reinterpreting Christianity in terms of mysticism in order to overcome the dichotomy between the sacred and the profane. This theme forms the core of his article in the Winter, 1962, issue of the Christian Scholar, “Mircea Eliade and the Recovery of the Sacred.” Without going into his frequent equivocation in relation to the concepts of “sacred” and “profane” (for the law of non-contradiction has no place in the logic of Hegel), it is clear that he is of the opinion that the dialectical tension between these two aspects of reality and/or human experience can, and must, be overcome by identifying them in a transcendent synthesis.

Once again, I can agree that the dichotomy between the sacred and the profane stands in need of being overcome, but I cannot see that this is best done by identifying the two concepts.… To eliminate the sacred by reducing it to the profane … leaves a great deal to be desired on both the theoretical and existential levels. Moreover, the attempt to maintain both the sacred and the profane in a static dualism is equally inadequate. In epistemological terms, the subject/object dichotomy, as reflected in modern philosophy, certainly needs reworking. However, I am more impressed with those who are attempting this reconstruction by viewing the relationship between subject and object (and thus between the sacred and the profane) as dynamic, contextual, and relational. In this way the two concerns are neither absolutely separated nor absolutely identified, the latter of which is the case in Altizer’s position. Such an understanding of the epistemological situation makes it possible to speak of the two dimensions (not realms) existing simultaneously in such a fashion that the sacred is mediated by means of the profane. This concept of mediation combines the values of objectivism and mysticism (otherness without remoteness) while avoiding their limitations (scepticism and subjectivism). The paradigm for this epistomological perspective is our knowledge of persons (ourselves and others), which certainly goes beyond the profane (mere facts) in discerning the sacred (personal mystery), but which neither reduces one to the other, nor seeks to identify them beyond recognition. The work of Michael Polanyi (Personal Knowledge) and Ian Ramsey (Models and Mystery) is especially valuable in this context.

Secondly, my dissatisfaction with his position centers in his theology. This dissatisfaction expresses itself in a variety of ways, but primarily with regard to his views of the Bible and Jesus Christ. In his rather wholehearted rejection of Christian history, he has not tried to hide the fact that he does not regard the New Testament as authoritative. In his Duke discussions he said that the corruption of the true message of Christianity, as revealed in the concept of incarnation, actually had its beginning in the New Testament. Here, of course, he stands (and falls?) with Bultmann.

Now, because of my high evaluation of history hinted at earlier, I would take the New Testament more seriously than he does. His approach to the Bible, however, is extremely inconsistent with his practice. In appealing to the concept of incarnation as the touchstone of “true” Christianity, by means of which all other approaches are to be judged, he is guilty of appealing to one New Testament theme as authoritative. In fact, it is implicit in his positive evaluation of Blake, Hegel, and Nietzsche, and negative evaluation of such thinkers as Schleiermacher, that his criterion of authority is the concept of incarnation as found in the New Testament. This is highly inconsistent with his rejection of the authority of the New Testament.…

With regard to his actual interpretation of the Incarnation, I am extremely dubious about its exegetical basis. If I understand him correctly, he wants to maintain that the Incarnation is a symbol of the cosmic fact that God has actually “become flesh” in such a way as to have taken himself out of existence. In other words, he has so identified himself with man and the world that it no longer makes sense to speak of him as a distinct being. This is, of course, a much more radical understanding of the phrase “God is dead” than that of many theologians who use it.… If his view of the Incarnation has no exegetical basis in the New Testament, it certainly is appropriate to ask just what its basis is. And this leads us back to the epistemological question.

It is my conviction that until these and similar difficulties are faced up to, the wide hearing which his views are receiving is profoundly undeserved. In a word, I find his position both epistemologically and theologically irresponsible.

JERRY H. GILL

Durham, N. C.

What Conservative Evangelicals Can Learn From The Ecumenical Movement

In my country, a person willing to apply the adjective “conservative” to himself is terribly hard to find. I have the impression, however, that elsewhere people are not intimidated by the word and, indeed, are happy to list themselves as “conservative evangelicals.” Such people, I assume, understand a “conservative evangelical” to be a person zealous for the fundamental truths of Scripture. He wants to “hold fast” to the confessions of the Church, the undoubted and catholic Christian faith which for many has today been watered down or filtered out of their thinking. My hunch is that for the most part “conservative evangelicals” are critical of the ecumenical movement because they suspect that—its basis notwithstanding—the World Council of Churches cannot be trusted to preserve the faith-heritage of the Christian Church. If they are not that negative, they at least doubt whether the movement is possessed by a heroic determination to defend the fundamentals of the historic faith.

However, I have not been asked to make a judgment of the ecumenical movement. The question is what the “conservative evangelicals” can learn from it. One need not approve of a movement to learn something from it; certainly one need not be prepared to join the movement before he can profit from it. As a Reformed person, I can learn a good deal from the Lutheran church—as, perhaps, a Lutheran can from mine—without being obliged to become a Lutheran. Perhaps, therefore, the stoutest holdouts from the ecumenical movement will be ready to pick up a few things from it to their own profit.

There are indeed some things to learn from the ecumenical movement. I shall mention two.

First, the ecumenical movement places before us all, inescapably and urgently, the question of the unity of the Church. Church unity plays an undeniably large role in the entire ecumenical movement. Indeed, critics of the movement often accuse it of placing so much stress on visible unity that it compromises the prior importance of the truth. Some people call its search for unity a “false ecumenism.” They say it is driven by a worldly lust for oneness and uniformity. Now, we may not all agree as to whether the present-day ecumenical movement seeks unity in the correct way. But we cannot avoid the fact that the Bible demands a deep concern for the unity of the Church, a concern that can hardly be stressed too strongly. And the ecumenical movement has alerted us to this biblical concern.

I once read a remark by a New Testament scholar that is true and very relevant at this point. He said that the expression “one Church” does not appear in the whole of the New Testament, and that this fact reveals how self-evident the New Testament writers considered the unity of the Church to be. We should have to complete the thought by recalling that we are frequently summoned to preserve the unity of the Church, but at the same time we agree that this summons is given precisely because the necessity of unity is assumed. “There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of us all, who is above all and through all and in all” (Eph. 4:4–6, RSV).

What Can We Learn?

In companion articles in this issue. Dr. G. C. Berkouwer, distinguished theologian and professor at the Free University in Amsterdam, and Dr. John A. Mackay, president emeritus of Princeton Theological Seminary and author of a recent book entitled Ecumenics, consider what conservative evangelical Protestants and the ecumenical movement can learn from each other.

After alluding to the fears of many evangelicals that the World Council of Churches may not preserve the faith-heritage of the Church, Dr. Berkouwer reminds us that one does not have to approve of a movement or join it in order to learn something from it. He sets forth two things evangelicals may learn from the ecumenical movement—the urgent importance of the unity of the Church and the dangers of an unbiblical eschatology.

Though he recognizes that the search for unity can be motivated by a desire for power, Dr. Berkouwer stresses the way in which the ecumenical movement confronts evangelicals with Christ’s High Priestly prayer. He is right; evangelical Protestants have much to learn about what it means to take seriously Christ’s words on the unity of the Church.

Dr. Berkouwer also warns about the tendency of some evangelicals to look forward so intensely to future unity in the coming kingdom that the seriousness of present divisions in the Church is obscured. His point is valuable that, by accepting uncritically the present division of the Church, conservative evangelicals might be perpetuating what is contrary to Christ’s will. But it could be balanced by mention of the parallel danger of consummating a unity based on unsound or inadequate doctrine likewise unacceptable to Christ.

Evangelicals may learn the lessons Dr. Berkouwer so clearly presents without compromising their essential doctrine and fidelity to the Word of God.

Dr. Mackay recognizes that there are many millions of evangelicals and that they constitute an important segment of the conciliar churches. He differentiates them from ecumenists, who pursue as their great objective the visible unity of the Church, by saying that for evangelicals the biblical revelation and its expression in the thought and life of Christians has priority over visible church organization. Noteworthy is his stress upon trans-denominational evangelical groups, such as the Graham association, World Vision, Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship, and Young Life.

The first lesson that the ecumenical movement can learn from evangelical Protestants, says Dr. Mackay, is “the reality of Christian conversion.” He speaks plainly of the danger of a Protestant nominalism in conciliar churches that leads to the substitution of church membership for a vital personal relationship to Jesus Christ. We can only hope that evangelicals actually measure up to Dr. Mackay’s charitable estimate of the quality of spiritual reality among them.

The second lesson Dr. Mackay mentions relates to what the Bible can mean in the personal and corporate life of Christians. At this point he declares that the ecumenical movement may well find in conservative evangelicalism something belonging to the great classical evangelical tradition of Christianity—namely, the authority of Scripture and its devotional use.

His third point concerns missions. (Here he speaks con amore as one whose first love is missions in Latin America.) He has high praise for the contribution to world missions made through Evangelism-in-Depth, developed by the Latin America Mission, and looks appreciatively at the adoption by evangelicals of “the incarnational principle” whereby those engaged in evangelistic effort identify themselves fully with those they want to influence. He believes also that ecumenists may learn from conservative evangelicals in the field of Christian journalism.

Dr. Mackay is hopeful of better relations between ecumenical leaders and evangelical leaders, and approves consultation of such leaders.

CHRISTIANITY TODAY is grateful to Dr. Berkouwer and to Dr. Mackay for these candid but irenic essays and commends them to the careful attention of our wide readership, which represents evangelical and ecumenical circles.

Our readers will draw their own conclusions and raise their own questions regarding these interesting essays. Therein lies much of their value. The unity of Christ’s Church is a subject of abiding importance that Christians must face in obedience to their Lord. Certainly all of us have more to learn about it.—ED.

What we have here is not a pious wish but a vocation. We have the calling to seek and preserve the unity of the Church because the Church is not ours but Christ’s. We have, let us admit it, become used to talking about the multiplicity of churches. We like to think that the “pluriformity” of the Church reflects the many-splendored wisdom of God. We use the plural, “churches,” as though the many churches were natural and normal phenomena in Christian reality. But have we ever tried to use the plural of “the Body of Christ”? Would it not be grotesque?

Now, I am well aware that the multiplicity of churches is a fact, and that people who speak of one Church are called romantics. But the New Testament is not romantic, and it knows only of the one Body of Christ, of one Temple, of one flock living under one Shepherd. The divisions of the Church, therefore, are not merely to be regretted. They are to be looked at as an amazing and incredible mystery. A divided Church is an awful problem with deeply distressing dimensions. Recall that when the Corinthians were threatening the Church with division, Paul raised the piercing cry, “Is Christ divided?” (1 Cor. 1:13a).

Somehow we have managed to dull the edge of Paul’s question; indeed, some of us have rounded it off to a pious pleasantry. But it was a terrible problem that rose from the shadows of division, for the shadows of church division fell over Christ himself. Calvin was conscious of this, when he wrote that if the Church were divided, Christ himself would be divided. But, he added, this is impossible (quod fieri non potest).

Is it not understandable, then, that the ecumenical movement should confront us with the High Priestly Prayer of John 17, the prayer that is permeated and defined by the unity of the Church? Christ spoke of the glory he received from the Father and then gave to his own, “that they may be one even as we are one” (John 17:22). Then he prayed that they would “become perfectly one, so that the world may know that thou hast sent me” (17:23). The world is involved in the question of unity. And this makes the visible unity of the Church the pertinent matter. The world must see the unity of the Church, so that it can recognize the great mystery.

When we talk about the world, we are reminded that Paul speaks about the enemies of the cross only with wet eyes (Phil. 3:18). He awakens us to the possibility that unbelief is a counterpart of the fact that the world does not know, does not yet know, that God sent Jesus into the world, because it has not seen the unity of his followers.

A quest for unity can be motivated by the desire for power. But there is also a unity sought simply because we know there is one Shepherd and one flock. The ecumenical movement has something to teach us about this. I say this not because I suppose that the present movement is ideal, or that it has solved all its problems. But it has been stimulated by the restlessness that John 17 provokes within the divided Church. Realism about the Church’s divisions cannot undo the power of John 17, nor can it remove the evangelical earnestness of Jesus’ concern about unity in the presence of the world. Is it not clear that to be “conservative” and to be “evangelical”—if these point to a genuine preservation and the genuine evangel—is to be filled to the brim with the longing for unity and fellowship under the one Lord?

Among those of us who for various reasons raise objections to the present ecumenical movement, there is a temptation to capitulate to the fact of division. Jesus’ words about unity rise from the abyss of eternity. This is why we must stay unsettled and unresigned. If we capitulate to the facts, our conservatism will only seek to conserve what is unacceptable to Christ. And this is not evangelical conservatism.

In the second place, the ecumenical movement places before us, inescapably and urgently, a warning against the dangers of an unbiblical eschatology. Eschatology concentrates on the future. It has its eyes on the promises. Its windows are open to the return of Christ and to the end of the age. But the perspective of the future can be set in wrong focus. When we let our perspective of the future lead us into a futuristic attitude toward the present, when we appeal to what is going to-come to pass after our days for justification of our indifference to the events of our day, we have perverted eschatological truth.

The futuristic perversion of eschatology has had considerable influence on our vision of the Church. Many find it possible to take the divisions of the Church in stride, because they expect the unity of the Church to be revealed only in the future. This attitude often goes hand in glove with the distinction between a visible and an invisible Church. The visible Church is divided. But since the invisible cannot be divided, the divisions of the visible are not too serious. After all, spiritual unity is more important, we hear, than organizational unity. And so we can restfully wait until the Lord returns for the spiritual unity of the Church to be manifest in the open.

Such a view contains an objectionable ecclesiology. We cannot use the scalpel of spiritual unity to cut away our guilt for the visible disunity of the Church. Besides, the very idea is unbiblical. The eschaton in the New Testament is never unrelated to the present day. I know of no text that speaks about the future without at the same time speaking about the present. The eschatological outlook is never meant to be an escape from the problems of the present day. The future does not let us take the sharp edge off present problems. Everything that is proclaimed about the “last things” is pointed straight at today. We are told to pray to be given the powers of the future age, so that we can be in their service now.

When the Spirit creates one fellowship around the crucified and risen Lord and in the breaking of the bread, the “last days” have already broken into the present (Acts 2:17). The Bible surely speaks of a “not yet.” We still see darkly, and we still know only in part. But everything that is told us of the future is told as a calling to the tasks of today. Could this possibly be the reason why the ecumenical movement appeals so frequently to the Kingdom of God? Could this be the background of the book that Dr. Visser’t Hooft, general secretary of the World Council of Churches, wrote and called The Pressure of Our Common Calling?

Sometimes it has taken the odd, bizarre eschatological movements in the Church’s history to remind us that the future in Christian perspective is a summons to be alive to the requirement of this day. These groups have often reminded us of the eschatological call to watchfulness and obedience. “What I say to you I say to all: Watch” (Mark 13:37). Now, it is this same watchfulness that the ecumenical movement forces upon our attention. Whatever our judgment of any particular ecumenical movement may be, we are guilty of closing our ears to the Gospel’s own demands, if we close our ears to this.

Our “common calling” is not to be pushed ahead into the future age. We are not permitted the luxury of an enthusiastic but unbiblical eschatology. We ought to be spiritually alert enough to realize that an appeal to the future age can be an ecclesiological fatalism in disguise. The word “fatalism” has overtones of ironclad necessity, a mechanical drift of things that controls our destiny in spite of ourselves. There is also a kind of fatalism in existence that has to do with the Church. It springs up in our hearts whenever we isolate the future expectations from the present demands. We ought to be stripped of the illusion that this kind of futuristic expectation has any power to enable the Church to meet its calling in what is even now an apocalyptic age.

I have tried to reflect on what we can learn from the ecumenical movement by concentrating on these two facets—the unity of the Church and the dangers of an unbiblical eschatology. I have not tried to analyze the ecumenical movement as such. But as to what “conservative evangelicals” can learn from the movement, these two matters—though others could be named also—seem paramount. Indeed, the ecumenical movement itself must be seen and evaluated in terms of a homesickness for a visible expression of what we have “together with all the saints.” We cannot even begin to understand the motivations of the ecumenical movement until we too long for the reality of the one flock under the one Shepherd, and until we desire it “so that the world may believe.…”

What The Ecumenical Movement Can Learn From Conservative Evangelicals

One can say without fear of exaggeration that the two most significant terms in contemporary Christianity are “ecumenical” and “evangelical.” In both Protestant and Roman Catholic circles, these terms are gaining a new theological dimension and increased status.

The term “evangelical” designates that which centers in the “Evangel,” the “Gospel,” the “glad tidings.” It points to the “good news” both of what God has done for man in the person, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and of what he can do in man through the transforming power of the Holy Spirit. To be “evangelical,” a person or a community must witness to the Evangel in thought, behavior, and sense of vocation.

“Ecumenical” means, etymologically, relating to the oikoumene, that is, to the “whole inhabited earth,” which for the Greeks meant the world unified by Greek culture and for the Romans the world unified by Roman law. In Christian history, “ecumenical” came to signify the unity produced by Jesus Christ and the Gospel and made manifest to the world by the community called the Christian Church. After the visible unity of the Church was shattered in the eighth century, the term “ecumenical” became lost for many centuries thereafter. It was restored to usage only in the present century, when the Christian churches of the world began to develop a sense of their common missionary responsibility to the oikoumene.

In 1950, two years after the World Council of Churches was founded, its Central Committee offered the first and only definition of “ecumenical” ever to emerge officially in council circles. “This word,” the committee said, “is properly used to describe everything that relates to the whole task of the whole Church to bring the Gospel to the whole world.” In this historic statement the “evangelical” and the “ecumenical” are inseparably related, so that no person or group can be truly “ecumenical” without being “evangelical,” nor truly “evangelical,” in consonance with the mind of Christ, without being “ecumenical.” It is important to affirm this because there are people for whom these two terms constitute a dichotomy, an absolute either/or.

The “ecumenical movement,” which in the early forties of this century the famous Anglican archbishop William Temple called “the great new fact of our time,” is the effort of many Protestant and Eastern Orthodox churches to give corporate expression to their concern for the unity and mission of the Church universal. This effort received concrete, organizational expression in 1948 with the founding of the World Council of Churches in Amsterdam. This body, composed of more than two hundred denominations and closely related to national councils of churches in many lands, has as its Basis of unity a single article of faith:

The World Council of Churches is a fellowship of Churches which confess the Lord Jesus Christ as God and Saviour according to the Scriptures and therefore seek to fulfill together their common calling to the glory of the one God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

In recent years, through the influence of Pope John XXIII and the spirit and findings of the Second Vatican Council (1962–65), the ecumenical movement began to have reality for the Roman Catholic Church. The church which had refused to send even an observer to the Amsterdam Assembly of the World Council of Churches, and for which the term “ecumenical” had ceased to have contemporary significance, invited representatives of non-Roman churches to attend the Vatican Council sessions as “separated brethren.” It gave its implicit sanction, moreover, to the term “Ecumenical Council” as descriptive of this epoch-making gathering in Rome. Evidence also grows, paradoxical though it may seem, that the church of Rome is beginning to assume a leading role in the ecumenical movement.

Over against the “ecumenists,” whether Protestant, Eastern Orthodox, or Roman Catholic, stand what may be called the “conservative evangelicals,” whose number is growing rapidly throughout the world. It has been estimated that in the United States conservative evangelicals include not only most of the 24 million Protestants not in conciliar churches but also a quarter to a third of the total membership of the conciliar churches.

Who are these conservative evangelicals? They are not bigots or fanatics, although such people are found among them (in minority status), just as they are found in the ranks of ecumenists. Speaking in general terms, the difference between the two groups might be expressed thus: Major leaders of the ecumenical movement pursue as their supreme objective the visible, structural unity of the Christian Church. Leading spokesmen for conservative evangelicals, on the other hand, consider the question of biblical revelation and its expression in the thought and life of persons and groups to have priority over any visible relationship, organizational or conciliar, among Christian churches in general, whether in the world, the nation, or the local community.

The spectrum of conservative evangelicals includes small, so-called sect churches as well as large Christian groups whose members cross all ecclesiastical boundaries and are dynamically united in the pursuit of some “evangelical” objective. Among these are such organizations as Young Life, World Vision, the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association, Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship, Campus Crusade for Christ, and Christian Business Men’s Committee International. Organizations of this type begin to play the role of the historic Roman Catholic orders, of which there are today more than six hundred; though loyal to the Roman Catholic tradition, these orders are not controlled, nor is their polity shaped, either by the Vatican or by local bishops. In the category of conservative evangelicals there are also some large churches, such as the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod, the Southern Baptist Convention, and major Pentecostal churches, that are unrelated to the ecumenical movement. Mention should also be made of the World Evangelical Fellowship, organized in 1951, which now comprises more than twenty national fellowships.

With these needed clarifications, we are ready for the question that inspired this article: “What can the persons, groups, and churches that form part of, or are committed to, the ecumenical movement learn from conservative evangelicals?”

The first thing they can learn is the importance of emphasizing the reality of Christian conversion.

Emphasis upon the Church, upon church relations and unity, and upon church membership and church growth can becloud or minimize the revolutionary Christian reality of rebirth, radical spiritual change, personal salvation, the “new man.” Indeed, emphasis upon the Church as such, upon formal and loyal church membership, upon unity among the churches, can give rise, and does give rise in many ecumenical circles, to an impersonal “churchianity” and a very nominal Christianity.

The Roman Catholic Church has become deeply concerned about Catholic nominalism. Last year an eminent Chilean theologian with whom I had a public dialogue on the ecumenical movement made this remark, “We Catholics must make Christians.” The plain truth is that ecclesiastically and even ecumenically speaking, a person can be a church member without being in any basic sense a Christian.

Church membership is becoming a substitute for Christian commitment. There is a widespread Protestant nominalism, in which belonging to the church takes the place of belonging to Christ in a vital sense. In recent years I have come to know loyal church members, admirable people, some of them officers in their congregations, who have admitted to me that they have no clear idea of what the Christian faith is. Their minds are a theological vacuum, their lives a spiritual wilderness. A Roman Catholic layman was once asked, “Tell me, my friend, what is it you believe?” He answered, “I believe what the Church believes.” “And tell me, what is it that the Church believes?” His reply, “The Church believes what I believe.” In conservative evangelical circles this could not occur, because primary emphasis is placed upon conversion to Christ, the new life in Christ, and a clear concept of what one believes.

Contemporary relevance must be given in ecumenical circles to what Jesus Christ said to that eminent religious leader, Nicodemus, “You must be born again.” The first-century concept of sainthood, as descriptive of “God’s men,” “God’s women,” people utterly and intelligently committed to God in their thinking and their living, must be restored. “The new man in Christ” must take on present-day meaning. The question arises in this connection whether what is today called “church renewal” is adequate in a situation in which Christian nominalism prevails. For the renewal of life presupposes the presence of life, and this precisely is what is lacking in so many church members. What a large proportion of them primarily need is not liturgical thrill but evangelical challenge, not renewal but rebirth, not concurrence with bureaucracy but conversion to Christ.

But the going may be rough. At a recent meeting in the ballroom of a famous hotel, a cultured lady, a loyal and leading member in a local Protestant congregation, said this, “If I were to mention the word ‘conversion’ as a Christian objective, they would put me out of the church.” In this context, two episodes that have occurred in the past year are prophetic and far-reaching in significance.

In his historic address before the United Nations in New York on October 4, 1965, Pope Paul VI, as he brought his discourse to a close, used these words:

The hour has struck for our “conversion,” for personal transformation, for interior renewal. We must get used to thinking of man in a new way; and in a new way also of men’s life in common; with a new manner, too, of conceiving the paths of history and the destiny of the world, according to the words of Saint Paul: “You must be clothed in the new self, which is created in God’s image, justified and sanctified through the truth” (Eph. 4:23).

Last July, in his annual report as director of the division of World Mission and Evangelism of the World Council of Churches, that eminent ecumenical figure Bishop Lesslie Newbigin, himself a profoundly evangelical spirit, said:

I suspect that the most fruitful and significant question with which we shall have to confront our colleagues in the ecumenical movement will be the question about the meaning of conversion.… We must be centrally concerned with the issue of conversion and its meaning in the kind of era in which we live—an era in which the Church is a minority in a secularized and religiously plural society. I think, if I may say so, that this will be found to be a more crucially important issue than the issue of church growth.

Hopeful and thrilling in this regard is a profound study entitled “Secularization and Conversion,” recently published by the Division of Studies of the World Council of Churches.

Secondly, the ecumenical movement has also very much to learn from conservative Evangelicals in the matter of what the Bible can be and should be in the personal and corporate life of Christians in every dimension of “togetherness.” It is important to mention that the new and more dynamic formulation of the Basis of the World Council was the result of a strong plea by Norwegian evangelicals, who felt that more explicit recognition should be given to the status of Holy Scripture. It was this influence—as I know, because I was a member of the WCC committee that made the final decision—that led to the revision of the Basis and the inclusion of the words “according to the Scriptures.” The text of the Basis now reads: “The World Council of Churches is a fellowship of churches which confess the Lord Jesus Christ as God and Saviour according to the Scriptures.…”

It is true that in certain conservative evangelical circles, devotion to the Bible and to ideas about the Bible becomes, in a very subtle way, a substitute for devotion to Christ and a personal relation to him. It is important, nevertheless, that the ecumenical movement should be inspired by conservative evangelicals to emphasize something that belongs to the great classical evangelical tradition of Christianity—namely, the authority of the Bible and the devotional use of Holy Scripture. For ecumenists, the Bible must become the companion of the Christian’s life, the Book whose reality takes on increasing significance in heart and home and work, in spiritual retreats, and in a prophetic ministry. Amid the rush and turmoil of contemporary living, the restoration of the Bible to the luminous and dynamic role that belongs to it will not be easy. But Christians committed to the worldwide unity of the Christian Church must give an ecumenical dimension to the practice of daily listening to the Book.

Thirdly, while the word “evangelical” is part of the classical heritage of the whole family of God, in conservative evangelical circles this classical term is given more of a missionary connotation than it has in ecumenical circles in general. Individual evangelicals are inspired to accept as their mission “winning” others to Christ and engaging in a dynamic way in Christian evangelism. Their supreme objective is not merely to do good to others in the spirit of Christ but to lead others to accept Christ as Saviour and Lord. That is to say, there is in evangelical circles a traditional Christian enthusiasm and sense of mission for the transformation of life in the spiritual, not merely the sociological, sense. This has a vital bearing upon the issue of evangelism, an issue that today is being confronted afresh in the ecumenical movement.

In the realm of evangelism, I know of no more significant and creative effort than one that originated about a decade ago in Latin America, “Evangelism-in-Depth.” This movement, whose headquarters are in San Jose, Costa Rica, is promoted, interestingly enough, by persons who are loyal to their own denominations and enjoy full ecclesiastical status in them but who carry on their work within an extra-denominational context. Evangelism-in-Depth is spoken of as “a program and a philosophy” that seeks “to relate evangelism to the total life of the believer and of the Church.” The growth of any movement,” it is stated, “is in direct proportion to the success of that movement in mobilizing its total membership for the propagation of its beliefs.” But “Evangelism-in-Depth,” according to Dr. W. Dayton Roberts, associate director of the Latin America Mission and a United Presbyterian minister, has as its aim not to take the place of the work being done by churches but to help churches do their work. In Latin America this movement receives the cooperation of churches that belong to the ecumenical movement and of churches that do not. Here “evangelicalism” transcends mere “ecumenism,” giving to the word “ecumenical” a very dynamic meaning. It is a striking example of unity in mission, and in mission that is not merely bureaucratic proclamation but grassroots action.

It would be embarrassing to single out individuals, groups, and churches that are dedicated to luminous and dynamic evangelistic effort of this kind. Suffice it to say that in all cases an understanding of the Gospel as involving what God has done for man, what God can do in man, and what man must do for God in the interest of his fellow man, leads people of the most diverse background to adopt the incarnational principle. In other words, those engaged in evangelistic effort identify themselves completely with the people whom they want to influence. They thereby win a right to be heard by these people, because of the qualities the latter have learned to admire in these persons identified with their life and environment.

To illustrate the “incarnational” approach in the interest of Christ and the Gospel, let me say this: In the realm of journalism there are magazines produced by conservative evangelicals that present the Christian faith, with relevance to contemporary issues, in more compelling literary style, with more communicative capacity, and with a wider circulation than do the products of circles committed to the ecumenical movement. This is a very remarkable achievement. In order not to be embarrassing, I mention only one example, Decision, which has a circulation today of more than three million copies a month and whose editor is a United Presbyterian minister.

Conservative evangelicals have little use for those in their ranks who are fanatically anti-ecumenical or for whom evangelical ideas become a mere badge, ostentatiously displayed or vociferously proclaimed. For the truth is, in some conservative evangelical circles there is found what might be described as evangelical pharisaism. Sound ideas become subtle idols; they take the place of the divine realities that the ideas are designed to express. This cult of the badge with its crusading anti-ecumenism can lead and does lead to evangelical sterility. But those related to the ecumenical movement should beware of identifying such people with the core of conservative evangelicalism. They should also be on the lookout for any similar fanaticism in their own ranks, and of any trend toward mere negativism in their approach to conservative evangelicals.

Things are happening today in the two groups we have been considering that give great promise and stir high hopes. In a very quiet way, distinguished figures in the ecumenical movement and in the conservative evangelical ranks meet from time to time. Without any fanfare or publicity, they come together to consider the differences that divide them and the spirit and goal that should inspire their common devotion. Of great significance in this regard is the article entitled “The Conservative Evangelicals and the World Council of Churches,” written by Eugene L. Smith and published in the January, 1963, issue of the Ecumenical Review. Dr. Smith, a leading Methodist churchman and a major ecumenical leader, represents in his person and spirit very much of what is best in “ecumenism” and “evangelicalism.”

May I close by referring to two moving experiences that came to me last March in California. It was my privilege to address a meeting in San Francisco that took place at the social headquarters of the Sixth Army. The audience was composed of area secretaries of Young Life and their wives. In the chair was the general of the Sixth Army, a devout Roman Catholic layman. How did it happen that a man of his eminence and background should preside at a gathering of that kind? The reason was this: Some years ago, while the general was on duty in West Germany, his son and daughter came under the influence of Young Life, and their lives were completely transformed. The father was so impressed by what happened to his two teen-agers, one of whom is now studying at the United States Military Academy at West Point, that he himself became a devotee of the Young Life fellowship.

The following day, I had lunch with the Pentecostalist, David du Plessis, a dear friend of many years whom it had been my privilege to introduce to the ecumenical movement. He told me of his recent experience at the Second Vatican Council. He had been invited by leaders of the Roman Catholic Church to attend that gathering at their expense. Several times during the council sessions, he met with a group of bishops and cardinals in whose life and outlook the “ecumenical” and the “evangelical” had become fused and who wanted to learn from their guest about the Pentecostal movement in the world of today.

Something is clearly happening at what have been traditionally regarded as two polar extremes, the Roman Catholic Church and the Pentecostal movement. Today the Roman church is becoming more evangelical, and the Pentecostal movement more ecumenical. Between the two is the great complex of Protestant churches dedicated to the ecumenical movement, to one of which I myself belong. Let these churches, and my own beloved church in particular, become aware that much that is significant for Christianity’s future in the world can Ire learned from conservative evangelicals, and not least from a maturing Pentecostalism.