Page 6398 – Christianity Today (2025)

In the first article which appeared under the above title, it was pointed out that the religion of the Bible is pervasively supernatural. A second and no less important feature of biblical religion is its claim to uniqueness. In fact, the two go together. If the religion of the Bible is truly supernatural and heavenly, then it is unique. There are, B. B. Warfield has reminded us, three general types of religion which men have made for themselves, according as the intellect, sensibility, or will predominates in them. But there is “an even more fundamental division among religions than that which is supplied by these varieties. This is the division between man-made and God-made religions. Besides the religions which man has made for himself, God has made a religion for man. We call this revealed religion; and the most fundamental division which separates between religions is that which divides revealed religion from unrevealed religions” (Biblical and Theological Studies, 1952, p. 445). In saying this, Dr. Warfield was in a sense simply expounding the words of John who said of Jesus: “He that cometh from above is above all: he that is of the earth is earthly and speaketh of the earth. He that cometh from heaven is above all. And what he hath seen and heard, that he testifieth” (John 3:31 f.).

This is a most important distinction. We are living in an age which makes much of comparative study. Comparison figures more or less prominently in every field of scientific research, especially in that of religion. Archaeology has been widening our perspective of the past. We are no longer dependent on the classical writers for our knowledge of ancient peoples, their beliefs, and their practices. We have much firsthand information regarding the religions of the Egyptians, Sumerians, Babylonians, Hittites, and Persians. It is natural and proper to compare them with the religion of the Bible. This comparison can be helpful and illuminating, provided only it does full justice to the differences and does not stress resemblances to the neglect or at the expense of that which is distinctive and unique.

Since we have discussed Dr. Albright’s attitude toward the supernaturalism of the Bible, we shall now consider his attitude toward the question of the uniqueness of the religion which it sets forth.

In his Introduction to the latest edition of From the Stone Age to Christianity, Dr. Albright severely criticizes Toynbee for his “repeated onslaughts on the alleged intolerance of ancient Israel, to which he traces the intolerance sometimes found in subsequent Christianity and Judaism.” He tells us: “Actually nearly all peoples, both primitive and sophisticated, claim uniqueness, while intolerance—which is only one facet of the basic human drive for power—is universally human” (p. 6).

As a result of the new knowledge of ancient religions which the archaeologists have supplied, there has been a growing tendency not only to compare these religions but to construct a pattern which will fit all of them more or less fully. This has been done in recent years by the British Myth and Religion school and by the Scandinavian (Uppsala) Traditio-historical school. That all of these ancient religions should have much in common is only to be expected. But the significant thing is that a vigorous attempt is being made to fit the religion of Israel into this pattern, to find for it a common origin with them, and to regard the unique ethical monotheism of the Bible as the product of the genius of the Jew for religion.

The Faith And Other Faiths

What, we may ask, is Dr. Albright’s attitude toward the question of the relation of biblical religion to the ethnic faiths? In speaking of the world which the archaeologist has been making known to us, he states: “But though the Bible arose in that world, it was not of that world; its spiritual values are far richer and deeper, irradiating a history which would otherwise resemble that of the surrounding peoples.” Again, he writes: “Since Israel was not only a rarely endowed people, but was also affiliated by blood and by cultural ties with all surrounding nations, it was able to select the most vital elements in their religious literatures, and to combine them into a new and richer synthesis” (p. 65). Speaking of “The Bible and Recent Discovery,” he tells us: “Climaxing and transcending all ancient religious literatures, it represents God’s culminating revelation to man at the latter’s coming to the age of maturity” (p. 132).

On the one hand, Dr. Albright speaks of the rich endowment of Israel and her ability to adapt and improve the best in the ethnic faiths. On the other hand, he speaks of Christianity as “God’s culminating revelation to man.” Is there any real difference in Dr. Albright’s thinking between what we may call the genius of Israel for religion and the special and unique revelation made by God to Israel through those “men of God” by whom he “spoke” a message which was unheeded by the people as a whole?

The Psalms And Pagan Poems

A few examples will help us to find the answer. One of the most remarkable discoveries of the present century was the finding of the city of Ugarit (Ras Shamra). This ancient Syrian city occupied a strategic position on the Orontes river on the route between Mesopotamia and the Mediterranean. It early developed a relatively high culture; and it was discovered that an alphabetic system of writing was in use there at least as early as the time of Moses. Much of the material written in this script is of a mythological nature; and portions of three elaborate poems have been published. They throw light on the nature of the language spoken not far from Palestine in the days of Moses, and on the character of its religious poetry.

This discovery has led to an extensive comparison of the biblical Psalms with these “Canaanite” poems. According to Dr. Albright, “We find that early Psalms contain so much Canaanite material that they may safely be treated as Israelite adaptations of pre-Israelite hymns and lyric poems, apparently all composed between the thirteenth and the tenth centuries and swarming with archaic expressions only recently explained by Canaanite parallels” (Religion in Life, 1952, p. 544). Consequently Dr. Albright and others are now arguing for the early date of many Old Testament psalms. But surely it is a heavy price to pay for their early date if we are to regard them as adaptations from the Canaanite, a religion which the Israelites were commanded utterly to abhor!

Let us look at one of these adaptations. Dr. Albright is especially insistent that Psalm 29 is “adapted from the Canaanite.” In this psalm the name of Jehovah (Yahweh) occurs 18 times. The adapting must then have involved the changing of 18 occurrences of Baal to 18 occurrences of Yahweh. The alleged adaptation is particularly noteworthy because it is admitted that no such poem has actually been found in Ugaritic. So the changing back of the psalm to its “original” form results in a new type of Canaanite poem.

Why, we ask, if the Hebrews had such superior religious ideas, should they have been obliged to borrow from the Canaanites a psalm which is assigned by its heading to David? Elsewhere Dr. Albright has told us: “The sedentary culture which they [Israel] encountered in the thirteenth century seems to have reflected the lowest religious level in all Canaanite history, just as it represented the lowest point in the history of Canaanite art. Against this religion the Israelites reacted with such vigor that we find only the scantiest traces of it surviving in Yahwism—many of these traces belonging, moreover, to later waves of Canaanite (Phoenician) influence” (Archaeology and the Religion of Israel, p. 94).

There is of necessity a certain similarity between Hebrew and pagan psalmody. They both speak the language of religious devotion. We do not have to go to Ugarit to find religious poems which somewhat resemble those in the Hebrew Psalter. We can find them among the Egyptians, the Sumerians, the Babylonians. But the similarities are all external and superficial. These hymns are all the expression of natural religion. They are addressed to gods who could not save and who have long since passed into forgottenness.

Prohibition Of Idolatry

The religion of the Old Testament is a spiritual religion. Idolatry of every kind is emphatically prohibited. But the tendency of Israel to fall away into idolatry is referred to again and again. One of the most notable examples is the case of Jeroboam and his golden calves. That this was idolatry pure and simple is indicated as plainly as language can express it. We read that Jeroboam “made two calves of gold” and said to the people who had made him king, “It is too much for you to go up to Jerusalem; behold thy gods, O Israel, which brought thee up out of the land of Egypt” (1 Kings 12:28). We are told further that “this thing became a sin”; and nearly every king of the Northern Kingdom is judged and condemned because, whatever else he did or left undone, he followed in the sin of Jeroboam the son of Nebat, “who made Israel to sin.”

In the great arraignment of 2 Kings 17, the people of the Northern Kingdom are accused of both idolatry and polytheism. “And they left all the commandments of the Lord their God, and made them molten images, even two calves, and made a grove, and worshipped all the host of heaven, and served Baal” (v. 16). Dr. Albright is largely responsible for the now popular attempt to “whitewash” Jeroboam. He tells us that Jeroboam did not intend these calves to be representative of Deity, but to be merely the animals upon which the invisible Yahweh stood or sat enthroned, like the cherubim of the mercy seat. He tells us that “Among Canaanite, Aramaeans, and Hittites we find the gods nearly always represented as standing on the back of an animal or as seated on a throne borne by animals—but never themselves in animal form” (p. 299). So he argues that Jeroboam was merely attempting to reproduce as far as possible the cultus of the Temple at Jerusalem.

There are several things to be noted regarding this novel theory. There is not the slightest intimation in the biblical narrative that Jeroboam did not intend the calves to be themselves objects of worship. If Jeroboam really intended to introduce a spiritual worship corresponding to the worship described in the Pentateuch, he is one of the most misjudged and maligned men in history. It is to be noted especially that Jeroboam fled to Egypt from the wrath of Solomon. In Egypt many of the gods had animal heads; and the cult of the bull (Apis) goes back to ancient times. It is highly probable that Jeroboam conceived the idea of the calf worship in Egypt; and he may have heard of the calf which Aaron made and have forgotten the severe rebuke which Aaron received for making it. That Jeroboam should set up an idolatrous cult in Northern Israel is not to be wondered at when we read of Solomon’s idolatries in 1 Kings 11. Both are described and condemned as grievous departures from the true religion of Israel. Finally, Dr. Albright’s explanation completely stultifies the prophets in their protest against this most reprehensible worship. When Hosea denounced the calf worship with the words: “the workman made it; therefore it is not God; but the calf of Samaria shall be broken in pieces” (8:6), it is clear that he regarded the calf worship as idolatry. Were Dr. Albright’s theory correct, we might expect Hosea to have received the devastating answer: “You are a fool. We don’t worship the calf, but the invisible Jehovah who stands on the calf. You don’t understand that our worship is spiritual.” But where is there the slightest evidence in Scripture that such an answer was made or could be made? There is a vast gulf between the true religion of Israel and the idolatrous worship of the calves.

Dr. Albright tells us that a “return to Biblical Theology” is imperatively needed. What we are concerned to know is whether, according to Albright, this return involves the acceptance of Peter’s declaration regarding Jesus: “Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved” (Acts 4:12), or whether he regards Peter’s words as representative of that “intolerance” which he tells us is “only one facet of the basic human drive for power” and which he describes as “universally human.”

END

Oswald T. Allis, Ph.D., D.D., author of a number of volumes and articles in the Old Testament field, was formerly professor at both the Princeton and Westminster Theological seminaries.

The hundred years that have elapsed since the first publication of Origin of Species have by no means abated the interest which Darwin kindled. As evolutionary theories have multiplied, so evolutionary principles have been applied almost promiscuously to all areas of human culture.

The tension between Christianity and the descendants of Charles Darwin is usually discussed in terms either of technical details in the evolutionary mechanism, or else of variant interpretations of the biblical record. While the relevance of these issues cannot be denied nor their importance minimized, yet one does suspect that the underlying philosophical conflict is far more crucial. It is this which guides both the selection of data and the formulation of hypotheses. The purpose of this article is accordingly to define the basic issues in the perennial conflict between Christianity and what we shall call “scientific naturalism.” While passing allusion will be made to what may be considered the deciding factors, the primary intent is to clarify the problem, not to resolve it. Such clarification is a necessary prelude to evaluation; often, as in the present case, it settles the issue for one who, like the evangelical, has established to his own satisfaction certain key beliefs. But it settles only the philosophical issue, for technical scientific and exegetical problems may persist indefinitely.

To begin, it is important to define historic Christianity neither too narrowly nor too broadly. For present purposes, we may note three essentials. First, historic Christianity is clearly theistic. It regards the constant activity of a personal Supreme Being as both necessary and ultimate in giving an adequate account of the existence, nature, and process of the world, and in meeting adequately the intellectual, moral, and spiritual needs of man. To understand either the universe in general or man in particular, it is claimed, we need to look beyond both the universe and man to the eternal God. Theism by definition implies supernaturalism: the existence of One greater than finite nature.

Second, historic Christianity is rooted in the historic person and work of Jesus Christ. This in itself implies the supernatural in the Incarnation and Resurrection and in the work of revelation and redemption. Further, revelation implies that there is an absolute divine truth to be revealed, and redemption infers that there is an unchanging moral law to be upheld. The Christian therefore sees all ultimate moral values as epitomized in Jesus Christ, and all valid religious experience as focusing on Him. In Scripture this is the testimony especially of the Johannine writings.

Third, whatever explanations of human origins scientific or exegetical data may or may not allow, the unique natural endowment of man is plainly a corollary of the fact that he alone is the recipient of divinely provided revelation and redemption. Historic Christianity therefore insists on the uniqueness of man both in the universe and in relation to God. The imago dei marks man off from the beast; it marks him off for God. Chancellor Hutchins of the University of Chicago is supposed to have remarked that cats and dogs do not build cathedrals. They have neither the engineering skill nor the architectural ability, neither the aesthetic appreciation to express, nor the moral values to preserve; above all they have no religious life.

The Naturalistic Revolt

Scientific naturalism stands in vivid contrast to historic Christianity thus defined. Preliminarily, let it be repeated that we are concerned not with natural science—an objective discipline—but with a brand of philosophical naturalism which purports to understand things in scientific terms alone. This attitude is not new. It found its classical expression in Lucretius, the Roman, who deemed the motion of atoms in a void sufficient in itself to account for the greatest cosmic processes and the tiniest cultural or individual differences. Darwin gave added impetus to scientific naturalism. He systematized the evolutionary account of origins, and in so doing laid the foundation on which his successors have built their diverse explanations of life and mind, culture and religion.

Scientific naturalism poses its first essential in direct antithesis to the theism of historic Christianity. The universe is both self-sufficient and self-explanatory. No more ultimate explanation is necessary than may be given by describing the natural processes involved. Nor is it necessary to satisfy man’s intellectual, moral, and spiritual needs by adducing a God, for these needs may well be meaningless and irrelevant. The supernatural is entirely excluded.

Second, scientific naturalism explains the person and work of Jesus Christ otherwise than in historical and supernaturalist terms. He is regarded as just another product of the evolution of human morality and religion. His revelation becomes a myth and his redemption the crude superstition of the Judaic mind. Whereas men may respect and apply his precocious ethics, Christian religious experience is neither more nor less real than any other. It may all be explained in naturalistic psychological terms.

Third, scientific naturalism insists on the continuity of man with the rest of nature. Biological and psychological similarities to other animals overshadow cultural differences. Evolutionary selection and adjustment alone have brought us to where we are, and they alone can offer prognoses for the future. For a while this suggested unlimited opportunities for inevitable progress, but in more recent years naturalistic optimism has given way to that querulous gloom characteristic of the nuclear age. As early as 1902 Bertrand Russell expressed the new naturalistic outlook:

That man is the product of causes who had no prevision of the end they were achieving; that his origin, his growth, his hopes and fears, his loves and beliefs, are but the outcome of accidental collocations of atoms, that no fire, no heroism, no intensity of thought and feeling, can preserve an individual life beyond the grave; that all the labours of the ages, all the devotion, all the inspiration, all the noonday brightness of human genius, are destined to extinction in the vast death of the solar system, and that the whole temple of Man’s achievements must inevitably be buried beneath the debris of a universe in ruins—all these things, if not quite beyond dispute, are yet so nearly certain, that no philosophy which rejects them can hope to stand.

The Restless Spirit Of Man

It appears, then, that historic Christianity and scientific naturalism stand as two incompatible options diametrically opposed on three of their basic essentials. This is not to say that they have nothing in common, for both may value technological advance and scientific research, and recognize the moral and sociological functions of religion. It is rather to say that as philosophies the two are utterly irreconcilable. The man who is convinced that the heavens declare the glory of God cannot forsake his faith and embrace any alternative explanation. He cannot rest content with the Freudian or Marxian interpretations of his religious experience. He cannot avoid thinking that the inference from partial similarity between man and beast to a total identity is a hasty generalization, and that the inference from historical sequence and partial similarity to a direct genetic relationship may well be just another post hoc ergo propter hoc fallacy.

Canon Bell was reported in 1952 to have asserted that the trouble with the common man is that “he has not learned to see life in all its possible richness … has lost contact with that which is greater than himself, from which (or Whom) he might gain courage to escape the crowd.” Another observer, one who makes no claim to Christian faith, traces the loss of the joie de vivre in much contemporary thought to the exclusion of God. Words such as these indict scientific naturalism. They echo the answer of the Westminster divines that the supreme end of man is to glorify God and to enjoy him forever. They relay the discovery of Augustine that our hearts are restless until they rest in Him.

Basically, this is the conflict which underlies the evolutionary philosophies of the past century. In a sense, it is simply a modern version of the conflict that has raged in the West for over two and a half millennia. Yet while the problem must be faced at this level and a decision made on the essential points in question, it must never be forgotten that a philosophy often expresses personal moral and spiritual involvements. To the extent that this is so the philosophical battle becomes the theoretical side of a more personal and even more fundamental struggle in every man.

He Came With Music

He came with music. But the angel’s song

Receded into heaven. Long, oh long,

Man strives to catch the music of the spheres;

But faint, remote, elusive to the ears,

Nor art nor science can prevail to bring

To earth again the music of the King.

He came with music. But the restless heart

Can find Him not in music, as an art.

When man’s endeavors cease with tongue and pen,

When earth’s foundations totter, then, oh then

All heaven waits to loose the lofty strain

For which the earth-bound struggle all in vain.

He came with music. And with music He

Will rock the rafters of eternity

When all of heaven rises to proclaim

The august splendor of His rightful name.

Then man will find his music, his lost chords,

In Christ, the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords.

HELEN FRAZEE BOWER

Arthur F. Holmes is Associate Professor and Director of Philosophy at Wheaton College, Illinois. Born in Dover, England, he holds the A.B. and the M.A. (Theology) from Wheaton College and Ph.D. from Northwestern University.

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: … a time to weep and a time to laugh; … (Eccles. 3:1,4).

Our Puritan forefathers were more than suspicious of humor. Life for them just was not funny. For example, Richard Baxter, who authored A Serious Call to the Unconverted—and several hundred other items—never penned a light line. The archives of homiletics not only reveal that the Puritans did not joke when they preached, but they preached against jokes. Jesus’ warning that every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment (Matt. 12:36); Paul’s ban on “foolish talking” and “jesting, which are not convenient” (Eph. 5:4); these and other texts were deemed sufficient to indict laughter as a sin worthy of repentance. “Laughter,” said Edward Irving, “is a kind of bacchanalian state of the mind, just as drunkenness is a bacchanalian state of the body. It is a rather violent change in the law and order of nature to which it is not willingly inclined if sanctified” (Charles Stanford, The Wit and Humor of Life, London, 1886, p. 64).

Augustus Toplady, the Calvinist, and John Wesley, the Arminian, shared a common dislike for the lighter side of life. Watching some children frolic, full of pranks, Toplady is said to have called them “bubbling fountains of iniquity.” Wesley gave it as his opinion that children, as a rule, ought not to play. These, perhaps, are extreme exhibits of the “stern mien” of classic Puritanism. There is not wanting evidence that for all their sobriety, the Puritans knew how to smile. A case in point is Matthew Henry’s commentary which sparkles with genuine wit; and it remained for us moderns to alter the lines of “Old Hundredth” to the Geneva Psalter, from “Him serve with mirth, his praise forthtell,” to “Him serve with fear, his praise forthtell.” Yet, undoubtedly, these men did err in failing to realize how many situations in life there are when it is “time to laugh.”

Comedy Becomes A Business

In our day, it is hard to believe anyone could make such a mistake. Our humor has become big business. The highest paid single attraction of TV in 1956 was the comedian, Jackie Gleason, whose efforts netted him $3,000,000 in one year (Look Magazine, Feb. 7, 1956). We laugh about everything; we feed on flippancy; we are convulsed in one unending guffaw. But laughter is not the final solution to life’s problems; and to use it as though it were, is like beating drums in battle to drown the groans of the dying.

Now it appears to me that our text sets before us a golden mean: “… there is a time to laugh.” This cannot mean that we should never laugh, nor can it mean that we should always do so. But like other rules of conduct in Scripture, this one treats us as adults who are able and responsible enough to make decisions for ourselves. It is ours to develop the fine ethical sense to know when it is time to laugh and time to weep.

Life And Laughter

Herbert Spencer, in his Physiology of Laughter, argued that a sense of the incongruous caused by certain unexpected contrasts will be followed by an involuntary contraction of certain facial muscles. I was once at the performance of La Traviata. As Violetta sang her beautiful swan song, she paused before the last notes, and in that sad, sweet, silent moment, the trumpeter in the pit dropped his instrument. Why is it that under such circumstances we will laugh? Why is it that man only, of all the creatures in the world, can laugh? I would answer: because God has made him so. The various orders of humor presuppose reason, the light of God in the soul. Without it we could never laugh, for the incongruities of life would escape us. Milton is bold enough in Paradise Lost to put a jest on the lips of Deity. When Lucifer and the angels revolted, with grim humor, the Almighty declares:

Nearly it now concerns us to be sure Of our omnipotence, … (V, 721–722)

And the Bible itself, on at least two occasions (Psalms 2:4; 59:8) ascribes laughter to God. Why then should we suppose that tears are pious and smiles vain? In fact, tears, it would seem, are a more direct result of sin than smiles, for the seer tells us that in heaven God will wipe away our tears (Rev. 21:4), but not our smiles.

Furthermore, our Maker has not only endowed us with the capacity for laughter, but he has placed us in an environment which has a touch of the comical. Some animals look funny and some act that way, too. Mark Twain once described a camel as an “ostrich with an extra set of legs.” Who is not amused to see a kitten stalk a windblown leaf like a tigress her prey, or to watch the antics of the apes?

Stewards Of Humor

But if we are committed to humor as a part of our inheritance from the Creator, then we must one day give account of our stewardship; and, I must say, some ministers will have a sad account to render. What we laugh at is a window to our minds. Dr. Johnson once observed, “… no man is a hypocrite in his pleasures.” Yet the choice of entertainment via the radio, television, and the theater, on the part of many ministers, falls so far short of grace that it is hardly up to the standard, even of enlightened nature. All too often this blemish on our personal piety intrudes itself into the pulpit, which is lamentable. Let me conclude then, with a few canons of procedure, that as ministers of Christ we may know when to laugh—and when not to.

We need, first of all, to develop a taste for excellence in humor, much as we would in art. Leaving behind those depraved expressions of so-called humor which appeal to the mind of the flesh, we should press on in the exercise of our sensibilities to appreciate the best by reading the masters. We should realize that there is something more in our heritage of humorous literature than the comic strip. Shakespeare’s Falstaff, Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland and the Hunting of the Snark, Mark Twain’s Innocents Abroad—the best passages in works like these are achievements of pure intellect; and it takes intelligence, unjaded by an overdose of cheap imitation, to appreciate them.

Appreciation is also stimulated by analysis of the various types of humor and their proper function. Highest on the scale of humor, many would place wit. Real wit is a flash of genius. Pope Alexander VI once pressed an ambassador of Venice to tell him who gave the Venetians the prerogatives of the sea, whereupon the ambassador answered, “If your Holiness will only please to examine your charter of St. Peter’s patrimony, you will find upon the back of it the grant made to the Venetians of the Adriatic” (Morris Corbyn, An Essay toward Fixing the True Standards of Wit, London, 1744, p. 6). A poet named Waller presented a copy of congratulatory verses to King Charles upon his restoration, following the fall of Cromwell’s house. The monarch read them and observed, “Mr. Waller, these verses are very good, but not so fine as you made upon the Protector”; whereupon Mr. Waller replied, “Your Majesty will please to recollect that we poets always write best upon fictions” (Ibid. p. 7).

Most of us, to be sure, can only aspire to this level of achievement. At best it comes to us as an afterthought, as something we should have said, if we had had our “wits” about us.

However, other forms of humor, such as satire and ridicule, are much more within our reach, but their proper use requires real skill and—for ministers—not a little sanctification, lest they be used as a substitute for answering the arguments of an opponent. How tempting it is, when setting forth our own opinions, to make those who hold other views appear ridiculous, when in actuality we know that the truth may be more on their side than ours. The great satirist Mr. Addison, of Spectator fame, once made an observation which we should all bear in mind as clergymen. Tracing the genealogy of wit he said, “Truth was the founder of the family, the father of good sense.” We might also emulate Cervantes in this regard, who Don Quixote gives us many chuckles, but in the process no bones are broken and no malice is borne.

No discussion of kinds of humor would be complete without mention of the pun. It is probably the meanest member of the family. Samuel Johnson regarded it as a kind of verbal vice. In his Dictionary he defines it as follows: “To pun is to pound or beat with a pestle.” Boswell gives this account:

I have mentioned Johnson’s aversion to a pun. He once, however, endured one of mine. When we were talking of a numerous company in which he had distinguished himself highly, I said, “Sir, you were a Cod surrounded by smelts. Is not this enough for you? at a time too when you were not fishing for a compliment?” He laughed at this with a complacent approbation. Old Mr. Sheridan observed, upon my mentioning it to him, “He liked your compliment so well, he was willing to take it with pun sauce.” For my own part I think no innocent species of wit or pleasantry should be suppressed: and that a good pun may be admitted among the smaller excellencies of lively conversation.

Milton, in the ninth book of Paradise Lost, made Adam, immediately after the fall, a punster—the counterpart of a present day TV comedian. Yet Paul may have given the pun canonical status. In Philippians 4:2 he exhorts two women, one of whom is named Euodia, to oneness of mind. Later on, in the same chapter he refers to the gifts which the Philippians had given him as an “odor of a sweet smell,” literally an odor of “euodia.” It has been suggested that this is a pleasant pun on the name of the lady whom he knew to have been influential in preparing the gift for him.

Propriety In The Pulpit

Along with an appreciation for the types of humor, as ministers of the Gospel, we need especially to develop a sense of propriety in humor. This is because we are constantly handling that which is sacred. Someone has defined humor as the clever association of unlike things. But many ministers, especially youthful ones, are too clever by a half. Their association of the sacred and the profane is more perverse than funny. Such humor is as misplaced as Nero’s fiddling while Rome burned. Jokes about sprinkling and immersion, pearly gates, and hell fire are crumbs which we do well to leave to dogs. Bishop Jeremy Taylor once said, “All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, but not for jesting.”

If, however, we avoid these pitfalls, a sense of humor and the use of that sense is an invaluable asset to every minister of the Gospel. Erasmus, in his introductory epistle to The Praise of Folly, pointed out to Sir Thomas More that the greatest minds of classical antiquity (Homer, Virgil, Ovid, Seneca and Plutarch) not only wrote on light subjects, but wrote lightly, because they knew that many readers would reap more advantage from such a form of treatment than from some more big and stately argument. Like the sugared coating of a healthful pill, a bit of humor helps people digest solid theology. Furthermore, a sense of humor will help the minister and missionary more than any psychiatric therapy, for it palliates disappointments and alleviates tensions. People who did not know Lincoln well sometimes felt he was more of a jester than a sage. But those closest to him realized that his joking often provided a necessary relief.

The Religion Of Joy

But humor has its roots deeper than any expediency or need of venting pent-up emotions. Christianity is the religion of joy. The promised seed of Abraham was named Isaac which means “laughter,” for Sarah said, “God hath made me to laugh, so that all that hear will laugh with me” (Gen. 21:6). Now the true seed of Abraham is Christ; he is the Son who was given to save us from our sins. If we know the Saviour and his salvation, if through faith in him we have been justified from all things, then we should above all else be a happy people and, among other ways, express this happiness by entering into the wit and humor of life.

Preacher In The Red

WHOSE CAR?

I had arranged to go to a denominational committee meeting with another committee member who lived not far from me. On the phone I suggested we go in my car. “No, we can take mine.” Jokingly I said, “We’ll fight it out when I get to your place.” Arriving there I saw a car at the curb, its motor running, and decided that my fellow committee member had made the choice for us. We would go in her car. I met her at the door of her home. As we headed for the parked car she said, “You can drive.” I thought to myself she was being very gracious! As we drove along I made some comment about her car. At the time it seemed to me her answer was rather vague, but I thought nothing more of it. After the committee meeting we started home. I made some further comment about how well her car handled. She looked startled. “This isn’t my car. I thought it was yours!” “Then whose car is it?” I said, “I thought it was yours.” I headed for the nearest phone to discover that for two hours the car had been listed as stolen.—The Rev. JOHN ANDERSON BARBOUR, Minister, St. Paul, Minnesota.

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

Paul K. Jewett is Professor of Systematic Theology at Fuller Theological Seminary. He holds the B.A. degree from Wheaton College, Th.B. and Th.M. from Westminster Theological Seminary, and the Ph.D. from Harvard University.

Anew Barth has been discovered by some theologians. They date this change from 1952, when Barth’s famous article on Rudolph Bultmann appeared.

Barth accused Bultmann of being too subjective (Theologische Studien, Heft 34), and of being concerned only with man’s understanding of himself (Idem, p. 37). In opposition to Bultmann, Barth urges us to interpret man, not in terms of himself, but in terms of Christ. This Christ addresses us in his Word, the Scriptures, telling us that in Christ we are reconciled to God (Christ and Adam, p. 21, in Theologische Studien, Heft 35), and that our salvation is “objectively complete” in Christ (Idem, p. 23). We are told that faith cannot be subjective only, that faith must not project itself “Prometheus-like into the void” (K.D. IV: 1, p. 375); it “must spring from the Christ-Event. The decisive element in the texts of the Gospels is surely that the disciples did find themselves faced with an incontrovertable fact, a fact which led to the awakening and development of their faith” (Idem, p. 374).

It is in Geschichte rather than in Historie that Barth looks for the objectivity that he seeks over against Bultmann. What he means by Geschichte as against Historie is difficult to define. Barth tells us that it is the realm where our ordinary understanding of space and time has no application (IV:2, p. 370). Geschichte has a space and time of its own. For Barth Geschichte overlaps and in some measure enters into Historie but always with the understanding that fully real transaction between God and man takes place in Geschichte, not in Historie.

Barth On The Resurrection

The resurrection event, says Barth, must explain our faith. Bultmann puts the cart before the horse when he would have our faith explain the event. But this is not all. Our faith must be based on the memory of a datable time (I:2, p. 127). If Christ is not risen in the same concrete manner in which he died, then our faith is vain (IV: 1, p. 389; cf. also IV, p. 377). The resurrection is an event in time and space (p. 371).

At this point, evangelicals might assume that, over against Bultmann, Barth defends Christ’s resurrection and believes in the resurrection because he submits himself to the teaching of the Scriptures.

The fact is, however, that Barth does not submit himself to Scripture as a direct revelation of God.

And, likewise, he does not think of Jesus Christ as a direct revelation of God. He is still devoted to his basic principle that, while revelation is historical, history is not revelational. The resurrection of Jesus Christ is therefore not that on which he relies for an answer to subjectivism; to do so would for Barth be a denial of one of his most basic principles.

To some readers, this may seem confusing. Either Barth believes, or he doesn’t believe! But the matter is not so simple. It is true that Barth seeks a resurrection in space, and time, and that he seeks the Christ and his resurrection in Scripture. But he finds the resurrection in a Scripture which he asserts to be “full of obscurities and indissoluble contradictions” (IV: 1, p. 377). He finds the resurrection to be an actual event in history even though in all history God is said to be wholly hidden as well as wholly revealed. When, in opposition to Bultmann, Barth seeks for an actual Easter-Event from which faith must proceed, he is not for one moment proposing to find this where evangelical theology finds it. Why was it necessary, Barth asks, to attest the concrete objectivity of the Easter narratives? He answers very plainly: “Certainly not in order to explain the resurrection of Jesus Christ as a historically indisputable fact” (IV: 1, p. 388). The “incontrovertible fact” which led to the resurrection faith is primarily an event in Geschichte rather than in Historie, in this ‘real’ history as against ordinary history. The resurrection may, perhaps, best be said to have taken place in Prae-historie (IV: 1, p. 371). Usually, Barth speaks of Geschichte.

Here we deal with a peculiar sort of history. When we turn from the passion narratives in the Gospels to the resurrection accounts Barth says we sense that we are “led into a historical sphere of a different kind” (IV: 1, p. 369). “The death of Christ can certainly be thought of as history in the modern sense, but not the resurrection” (Idem, p. 370). The resurrection happens “without our being able to ascribe a ‘historical’ character to it” (Idem, p. 331). When we deal with the resurrection, we do not deal with something that happened in the past (Idem, p. 345), for, says Barth, if we did we would be back in historical relativism. This is indeed a strange dilemma: to escape subjectivism, we must avoid an objective resurrection! To escape relativism in history, we must avoid history!

History As Presence

Barth therefore turns to the idea of Geschichte in order to avoid what he thinks of as the relativities of Historie. If we were to speak of the resurrection as taking place in Historie, Barth argues, we should have to say that the resurrection is an event in the past and not in the present. We would then have to say that Jesus went from the Jordan to Golgotha. But this is not sufficient for our need. What we need is a God who in Christ is present with us. And this idea is expressed in the notion of Geschichte. In terms of Geschichte we can say that God goes with us now from Jordan to Golgotha (Idem, p. 345). In Jesus Christ as man’s substitute with God, his time is made into the time “That always was where men lived—always is where men lived, and always will be where men will live.”

The facts are plain. Barth does not seek objectivity for the Gospel message by the method of evangelical orthodoxy. Barth says clearly that what he cannot understand in Bultmann is what he cannot understand in the “entire old orthodoxy” (Bultmann, p. 14).

Barth wants neither the old orthodoxy nor Bultmann, neither the objective historical revelation of the one nor the subjectivism of the other. How then can subjectivism be overcome?

In the very volume in which he seeks to establish a true objectivity against the subjectivism of Bultmann, Barth insists on discarding the calendar. To answer Bultmann, Barth is apparently convinced that he must also destroy evangelical orthodoxy.

To fail to place Barth’s view of the resurrection of Christ in the framework of his theology as a whole is to misconstrue it. If Barth were to identify the resurrection of Christ with an event in ordinary history, as Luther and Calvin did, he would have to take into the bargain the whole orthodox scheme of things which he abhors as much today as ever. And he would have anything but the kind of objectivism that he wants in order to answer Bultmann.

Objectivism

Barth needs an Easter-Event in which God is wholly revealed. It must be that, in order to be the Event that lights up all other events (IV: 1, p. 331). Precisely for this reason, Barth says it cannot be identified with any fact of ordinary history (Idem, p. 333). For history is not revelation. God is wholly hidden as well as revealed in history.

To have the true objectivity of grace set forth in the resurrection, we must say that the being of Christ as God, as man, and as God-man consists in his work of having completed the work of reconciliation of all men (Idem, p. 139). And that can only be if the resurrection is primarily an event in terms of which Christ is present to all men, past and present, in the divine Presence. “God allows the world and humanity to take part in the Geschichte of the inner life of his Godhead, in the movement in which from and to all eternity He is Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and therefore the one true God” (Idem, p. 236). “The resurrection of Jesus Christ makes that to be true which is real in his death; the turning of all men to God in him” (Idem, p. 349). To do this the resurrection cannot be identified with a fact of ordinary history.

If, in conclusion, we ask whether Barth has found a really objective basis from which to answer Bultmann, the answer must be in the negative. On his own basis, all history hides as it reveals. On his basis history is utterly ambiguous.

Worse than that, it must be plainly stated that Barth’s position is as subjective as that of Bultmann.

In Barth’s theology, no less than in that of Bultmann, faith must, Prometheus-like, cast up its anchor into the void. Barth’s theology, no less than that of Bultmann, is a reinterpretation of the Gospel in terms of the self-sufficiency of man.

To say this is not to judge the personal faith of either Barth or Bultmann. Bultmann is no less anxious than Barth to bring the Gospel to modern men. But neither of them has any Gospel in the evangelical sense of the term. Rejecting the “old orthodoxy,” they continue still in the wastelands of consciousness theology with its relativism and subjectivity.

END

Cornelius Van Til is Professor of Apologetics at Westminster Theological Seminary, Philadelphia. He holds the Th.M. degree from Princeton Seminary and the Ph.D. from Princeton University. He is the author of The New Modernism (1947), Common Grace (1954), The Defense of the Faith (1955).

To be an evangelical minister or layman ought to mean one’s giving Christ the place of honor. In the New Testament, in the writings of the Church Fathers, and in our noblest hymns, the Lord Jesus towers above all the sons of men. “Crown Him with many crowns!” Yet, it is disconcerting to see in our time a tendency among religious people to let other good men and causes take the place that should be accorded to Him. To a certain extent this inclination prevails among us who call ourselves evangelical.

To deal with the matter adequately, one would have to write a book, a well-documented book. In an article, however, one can only attempt a sort of “cake mix,” and leave the reader to supply the plentiful ingredients. Perhaps in order to keep the matter simple, we may think about it only as it relates to the four Gospels.

The Christ Of The Gospels

Every reader knows that throughout the Gospels, Christ has the place of honor. It is for him—the Son of God and Redeemer of men—that the Gospels exist. The earliest of them, for example, begins this way: “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” Each of the others also, in a fashion all its own, presents a Christ-centered beginning. Every one of the four stresses Christ at the end; and between the opening and the closing words, it would be hard to find an important paragraph that is not mainly about him as central Figure.

In a painting by Michelangelo or Raphael, Christ may be made to appear walking or sitting with other men, but always it is on his face that the light falls most strongly. So in the Gospels, with the sort of art that does not call attention to itself, the Lord Jesus stands as the focal point of every scene in which he appears. Other men emerge only as they have dealings with him. Herein lies the idea, for all evangelical preachers, writers, and teachers.

We note that two of the evangelists, for example, deal with the birth of the Lord Jesus. In paragraph after paragraph the light falls chiefly upon him, not upon Mary, the shepherds, or the wise men. In the pivotal chapter of Matthew’s Gospel (16:13–28), the discussion has to do with Christ’s Person, his Church, his coming Cross, his disciples, and his later Glory. With the hand of a master, the evangelist here shows how the Lord Christ dominates every situation.

So in the account of the Transfiguration, Christ stands out in relation to Moses and Elijah, as well as young Peter, James, and John. Little by little these other persons fade from view, so that the beholder, now as then, sees no man but Jesus. By faith being “lost in wonder, love, and praise,” the onlooker ought to be changed into his likeness, “from glory unto glory” (2 Cor. 3:18). What a way to read the Bible! The interpreter does more for his lay friends by introducing Christ than by talking about them to those callow young men on their way down to the valley of service.

At the Passion play in Oberammergau the action starts with the Triumphal Entry on Palm Sunday. Throughout 40 successive scenes Christ stands forth as the dominant Figure. Ideally, no man ought ever to act the part of Christ. While witnessing the Passion play two different years, many of us learned to “see” as well as think about the dying Redeemer. One year we felt that “Judas” had overshadowed the Christ; the other time, Christ himself stood out almost as clearly and superlatively as in the Gospel records. “No mortal can with Him compare.”

We may observe that same truth in glancing through the pages of a good hymnal. I was going through our standard Presbyterian book of praise and found a few poems such as Washington Gladden’s “O Master, Let Me Walk with Thee,” which I seldom use, and James Russell Lowell’s “Once to Every Man and Nation,” which I never have sung in worship because I do not believe in a succession of “new Calvaries,” nor in any modern cause as “God’s New Messiah.” But to my delight I found that among the 513 hymns in the book, nearly all of those about Christ accord him the place of honor he has everywhere in the Gospels. These Christ-centered hymns nearly all come from earlier times.

In the pulpit and in Bible classes the trend of late has changed. Even with evangelicals, other persons and interests tend to overshadow the Lord Jesus, both in his Deity and in his humanity. A glance through the index of any religious journal today will show that other good men of Bible days and Church history receive from writers more attention than the Lord of Glory. In a laudable endeavor to promote Bible reading among church women, leaders in certain circles promoted wide use of an able book about Luke. Many of the women imagined that they were learning how to read and enjoy the Bible.

But what are the facts? The author of the third Gospel and the “Fifth Gospel” never refers to himself directly. In every paragraph he presents a truth, a person, or persons in relation to Christ. Christ is the central Figure. Nowhere is the attention called away from him. As for the other writers, as well as Luke, their purpose for writing was not to exalt themselves.

The Christ Of Today

An unintentional humanization seems to appear in much of our reading and preaching about the Christ of the Gospels. At Christmas we stress Mary as the ideal mother, or put a caption underneath the shepherds to emphasize ourselves: “The Christ of the Common People.” A little later we show the wise men: “The Christ of the Uncommon People.”

In preparing a sermon or a Bible lesson about the Transfiguration (Matt. 17:1–21), how many of us attain to artistry like that of Raphael? At the top of one of his paintings he shows the scene on the mountain with the heavenly visitants and astonished disciples. Then at the foot of the canvas he portrays a scene of the multitude in the valley. But gazing up at the Lord of Glory are the eyes of a demoniac lad. Here in this painting we see many lines converging on the Christ, with the light full in his face. How did Raphael bring unity out of these two contrasting scenes? He used imagination, the God-given power to see. Then he used lights and shadows in order to make the truth about Christ stand out. Again, this is the way we ought to preach and teach about the Christ of the Gospels! On behalf of the preacher or Bible teacher, the dearest friend ought often to intercede: “Lord, I pray thee, open his eyes that he may see” (2 Kings 6:17b). Then the man of God will see his Lord, and enable his friends to see him as Redeemer and King.

In the days that lead up to Easter, modern misinterpreters of Holy Writ seem to insist on preaching or teaching mainly about “Personalities Around the Cross.” All of them have their place, but only with reference to Christ as the central Figure. Even on Good Friday an ingenious preacher or teacher can deal with the “Seven Last Words” in a way that makes them seem to be about those for whom the dying Redeemer prayed—such as, the penitent thief whom Christ forgave, the impenitent one who refused to plead for mercy, or the mother of Jesus with her adopted son John. No one could correctly present the facts without showing these human aspects as well as the divine, but surely the stress ought to fall on the facts about Christ, for he alone can redeem.

One Good Friday the Protestants of Trenton, New Jersey, filled the largest local assembly hall for a union service. As their speaker they had invited a widely-known and gifted evangelical divine from a large city nearby. He “rose to the occasion” with a brilliant study of “Dreams that Disturb” (Matt. 27:19). With no special reference to Christ as the dying Redeemer, the speaker dealt ably with various sorts of dreams that disturb us today. In a way, that semi-secular address could have qualified as a masterpiece. And yet more than one hearer felt that if he had gone over to the Roman Catholic church he might have heard or seen something about Christ and his Cross.

Before any critic casts a hasty aspersion on such a speaker, let him examine his own record. Did he, as a preacher or teacher, stress God the Father, the Son, or the Holy Spirit on the preceding Lord’s Day? During the last few months has he often presented the Gospel as it centers in some one Person of the Triune God? Surely we ought never to ignore the way God reveals truth by means of Peter, James, and John; or Pilate, Herod, and Judas. But no less surely this truth can save and sanctify us only as it relates to Christ, the “central Sun of all our seeing.”

Man-centered preaching and teaching have become so common in some cities that an evangelical can give way to the contagion without knowing that he has fallen short of his early vows. For instance, a young man of ability came from a city church to the seminary for study. One day in class he preached an able man-centered sermon from a text and topic about Christ as Saviour. By appointment he came to the study that same afternoon to discuss his sermon. Before we began I asked if he had any questions. Indeed he had!

“Why do you have us fellows read the sermons of Fosdick?” he asked. “Surely you know that he is a humanist, and that he almost always deals with a subject horizontally.”

I answered that every young man going into the ministry ought to know about the pulpit work of the most widely-read pulpiteer of that decade. Personally I did not agree with Fosdick, but I had learned from him a good deal more than from many writers with whom I agreed.

“Before I answer your question more fully,” I went on to say, “let us look at your sermon, which is good of its kind. Please glance over it, a paragraph at a time, and when you find a unit of thought about Christ, God, or anything else that you call vertical, mark the paragraph D(ivine). If the paragraph is mainly about us or other persons and things not calling for an upward look, mark it H(uman).”

The young man started with alacrity. He had grown up “determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified” (1 Cor. 2:2). He was sincere and high-minded. After he had glanced at the first paragraph he went back and read it through again. With a frown he wrote in the margin “H.” And so it was with all the paragraphs that followed. Then he exclaimed, “Why, professor, here I am doing what I have found fault with Fosdick for doing!”

“Yes,” I replied, “the difference between you and many other young evangelicals is that you now know what you have been doing. You have time and opportunity to learn how to present the claims of Christ Jesus.” Would that we who hold a different theory of preaching than that of Harry Emerson Fosdick could present our way with as much human interest and practical effectiveness as he does in dealing with human problems on the basis of human experience, much of which he draws from the Bible.

A Closing Word

We have not yet faced “the preacher’s forgotten question, How?” “How can I preach or teach so as to give Him the place of honor?” The answer calls for hard thinking. I am going to do what many men do when they come face to face with a problem they cannot solve. They ask, “What do you think?”

If you preach or teach the Bible, you ought to face this question “How?” Think about it and pray. If by grace you come to the right answer, and accept it, you will learn to present Christ the way he appears in the Gospels. Then those to whom you introduce him will exclaim to one another, “Did not our heart burn within us, while he talked with us by the way, and while he opened to us the scriptures?” (Luke 24:32).

END

Andrew W. Blackwood is Professor Emeritus of Princeton Theological Seminary and is at the present time engaged in writing. Author of many books, he has served most recently as compiler and editor of Evangelical Sermons of Today.

DR. OSCAR CULLMANN recently proposed that once a year an ecumenical collection be gathered for the poor of Protestant and Roman Catholic churches following the example of the primitive Church. Having first offered his suggestion in January of 1957, in connection with a week of prayer for the unity of the Church, he repeated the same proposal to Roman Catholic groups in Rome and Paris. Responses to his proposal have been many and varied, and in answer to them Cullmann published a brochure explaining and elaborating upon his unique proposal.

After his Rome lecture, Cullmann received a check from a priest for some poor Protestant family, the check being turned over to a representative of a small Waldensian theological faculty. The Waldensian Protestants in turn responded with a check for a poor Roman Catholic family. This kind of practical response to Cullmann’s suggestion was not an isolated example. Cullmann reported several gifts offered for the poor of other churches. There was talk of a miracle with greater potential for unity than many ecumenical conferences. Others, however, recalled Gamaliel’s caution: If this thing is of God, it shall prosper; if not, it shall come to naught.

Cullmann emphasized that his proposal was meant in no way to water down the real differences that exist between Rome and the Reformation. Confessional distinction, according to the Basel professor, cannot be washed away in the milk of charity.

However, he insists, a sign of solidarity between Christians can purify the atmosphere of doctrinal dispute and this can be significant.

The careful reader of Cullmann’s proposal will be concerned with the distinction that he makes between the unity of the Church and the solidarity of Christians. The unity of the Church is a manifest reality in the New Testament, the unity of the Body of Christ, and the unity of love within the Body. The tragedy of our present situation is our too evident lack of unity. Cullmann is not optimistic about the promises of unity. Roman Catholic and Protestant churches are separated by a wall of division that seems unbreakable. But Cullmann adds that he is pessimistic in view of human considerations. Along with his pessimism concerning the unity of the Church he is optimistic concerning the solidarity of Christians. He offers his proposal of a collection for reciprocal needs in the churches, not as a tactic or a means of converting one side to the other, but as a simple act of recognition, one for the other, in Jesus Christ.

Understandably, Cullmann has inspired both sympathy and questions. The great variety in the responses underscores the problem that lies in the background of Cullmann’s proposal. I refer to the problem that holds all of the churches in tension, namely, the problem of the disunity of the churches in the face of the clear witness of the New Testament concerning the Church’s unity. The New Testament insists that there be one Church because there is but one Body, one Shepherd, and one flock. There is no straight line from the New Testament situation to our own. And many have given up hope that the world will ever again see the one flock of the one Shepherd. This failure of hope sometimes takes the form of a purely eschatological perspective. But Cullmann’s proposal forces us to look at the problem anew, to feel again and profoundly the contradiction between the New Testament unity and the actual disunity of the churches. As we do, we sympathize with Cullmann’s combination of pessimism and optimism. We can immediately understand the motive of Cullmann’s suggestion and can echo his deep concern. But at the same time we sense that he raises a genuine problem by his distinction between the unity and solidarity of Christianity.

Does not the solidarity of Christianity rest indissolubly with the unity of the Church? The source of Christian solidarity lies in the unity of the Body of Christ, the unity which the ancient Church confessed and in which it lived. One can appreciate Cullmann’s insistence that we guard against creating an impure atmosphere, that we avoid conflict which does not arise from the Gospel itself. But when he speaks of the solidarity of brethren in Christ, we are forced to face again the question of the unity of the Church. Is there solidarity without unity? This is the question.

There is no human possibility, according to Cullmann, for restoring visible unity to the Church. He is so right about human possibility: here there is every reason for pessimism. But as I read John 17 and hear again the prayer of our Lord concerning the unity of the Church, I cannot escape the truth that the Church is to be one even as the Father and Son are one so that the world may know that God sent the Son. Here we see that unity has everything to do with solidarity. There is one Body, one Spirit, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of us all. This is the disturbance that the New Testament projects into the division of the churches, a disturbance that keeps us from ever being content with the divisions. Our disturbed minds may not lead us to relativize the truth for the sake of unity. The struggle of the Church must be to maintain the Gospel against all the falsehoods which would imperil the Church and against which the New Testament warns as strongly as it urges unity. But the New Testament image of the one flock and one Shepherd still inspires our hearts. And the prayer of Jesus Christ, the Shepherd, still ascends to the Father for the fulfillment of this ideal.

Therefore we cannot abide long in pessimism. We have a conviction that the unity of the Church does not lie in our hands, and that a lot must happen before the one flock is again a visible reality. But we must not pass it off with the cliché that unity will come to pass in God’s future alone. There is no hope for the future which does not contain a calling for the present. If there are signs of solidarity between Christians, then we can only pray and work that the light of the Gospel may triumph in the world. It is the Gospel that places us under responsibility for the truth, but it is also the Gospel that sets us under responsibility for the unity. The two are in unbreakable connection.

Cullmann’s proposals urges action for Christian solidarity. But it also places us anew before the problem of Church unity in the midst of its disunity. Someone remarked recently that the New Testament never uses the expression “the one Church.” But the New Testament does not use the literal expression only because to it the unity of the Church is a self-evident fact. We are faced with this fact and cannot avoid it in any of our reflections about the Church. It is the pre-eminent fact that must guide and challenge our lives always—the one Shepherd and the one flock.

Religion And Psychiatry

God and Freud, by Leonard Gross (David McKay Company, Inc., 1959, 215 pp., $3.95), is reviewed by Lars I. Granberg, Professor of Pastoral Counseling and Psychology, Fuller Theological Seminary.

This is a book which is bound to call forth strong reactions. The author is a journalist who compiled material for his book by interviewing some 200 persons throughout the United States—ministers, theological professors, religious historians, psychiatrists, and others interested in the relationship between religion and psychiatry. The book is written in an easy style and characterized by the kind of positive pronouncements based upon sweeping generalizations that should make it widely quoted. Reading it is like being caught in a conversation with an opinionated nonstop talker. One keeps trying to insert, “Yes, but …”

The book is essentially a tract. Its thesis appears to be that psychiatry has provided a way to preserve significance for religion, which had become in good measure either irrelevant or inhumanly destructive—irrelevant as a result of its propensities for platitudinous homilies, and destructive because it has been responsible for producing guilt-ridden neurotics by an unmitigated diet of angry harangues on the vengefulness of God. Psychotherapy, he argues, has shown unmistakably the primacy of love in changing anxious, angry, guilt-ridden men into loving, constructive persons.

A chapter titled “Sin or Symptom” points up the neurotic dimension in problems that have been traditionally treated as purely moral problems and with great severity. To provide the church with a psychologically oriented theology, he suggests Paul Tillich’s view of man and Martin Buber’s view of God. There is also a survey of the impact of psychiatry upon the various functions of the church: pastoral counseling, institutional chaplaincies, teacher training and curriculum appraisal in the Sunday School, assistance in the screening of applicants for theological training through clinical tests, and the use of small group techniques to appraise one’s “working creed” and induce a deeper personal commitment. To my mind his chapter, “God, Freud and Susan Peters” should be given a thoughtful reading by every pastor who is concerned about how to help his people into a personal wrestling with the demands of Scripture. It describes the Parish Life Conference of the Protestant Episcopal Church. The chapter should prove both disturbing and of great potential benefit.

A book such as this can be criticized from many perspectives. Theologians are likely to feel that he has pretty well equated religion with morality, and has defined morality in terms of the current concept of mental health. Moreover, his strong sense of kinship with what he calls “the progressive elements in Protestantism” may cause some to dismiss it prematurely as a disguised return to nineteenth century liberal theology.

Nor are many religiously oriented psychologists and psychiatrists likely to give the book wholehearted endorsement. His tendency to derive neuroticism from “condemnatory religion” on a kind of 1:1 basis, for example, leaves a good many questions unanswered. Most people are not neurotic, he states. This presumably includes members of congregations which are rather persistently exposed to a portrait of God as angry, harsh, and vengeful. Even if it should turn out that most members of such congregations were neurotic, could one not as readily conclude that this kind of preaching attracts people who suffer from certain neurotic trends as that the preaching caused it?

His assumption that morbid guilt inheres pretty much from the harsh, exacting demands made by “condemnatory religion” also seems oversimplified. (It is regrettable that he does not distinguish between morbid, emotionally-based guilt and objective guilt. While I do not think he actually subscribes to this, he seems to be saying that guilt is per se bad, whereas what can be bad is guilt that becomes fixed in an unresolved state. Guilt should lead to repentance and forgiveness, and it is the essence of the Christian Gospel to delineate the true nature of sin so as to point men to its proper resolution through Christ.)

In counseling one finds harsh superegos among nonreligious people who have been reared apart from condemnatory religion. While it is possible to attribute this to a harsh puritanism that has permeated our entire culture, I am inclined to think this is not the explanation. Persons reared in the benign tradition that the author endorses do have harsh superegos, but these are oriented toward economic success and enhanced social status rather than religious prohibitions. Man is a standard-setting being. If no standards were created for him, he would create them for himself. This is intrinsic in the capacity to value. Therefore it is dubious that a program of setting “attainable standards,” which he appears to endorse, will have the salubrious effect of lessening neurotic guilt.

Moreover, in an age of “permissiveness,” can one really trace all cases of fear to excessive moral structuring? Some of our penetrating social commentators are suggesting that today much fear and guilt stems from a lack of moral structuring, which has led to moral confusion and the conviction that one is not an object of real moral concern—i.e., that one does not matter enough to people to get them excited about his moral condition.

It is undeniable that the church often has tended to use approaches apparently based on the assumption that most men were conscienceless psychopaths who needed a shock treatment to awaken their moral sense. For this reason the discoveries of psychiatry concerning the dynamics of neuroticism deserve careful consideration by those who propagate the Gospel. But may not an appreciation of these psychiatric insights lead one into the opposite error? May it not cause him to universalize techniques which have proven themselves effective for treating neurotics but which have had little success with psychopaths? Nevertheless, the church cannot afford to dismiss the lessons from psychotherapy which the book underscores: 1) God’s judgment should be preached in a context that gives primary stress to his mercy and forgiving grace; 2) all guilt is not objective and a sign of moral awakening; 3) men, including preachers, do tend to structure God in their own image, and their own unresolved guilt and anger may well cause them unconsciously to distort the character of God in their preaching and teaching (but we can distort in the direction of a vapid benignity as well as toward capricious vengefulness); 4) the positional doctrines, which God provided to enable us to deal with his absolute standards, need greater clarification and emphasis—they are crucial in the healing aspect of the Gospel.

While this may not be the best book available to orient one’s self regarding the present interaction between religion and psychiatry, it does provide a certain type of shock therapy of its own (guilt-inducing?), is highly readable, and will prove profitable to such persons as are not too familiar with the movement but who are able to give thoughtful consideration to well-intended and serious criticisms leveled at one’s cherished convictions.

LARS I. GRANBERG

Evangelical Polemic

Revelation and the Bible, edited by Carl F. H. Henry (Baker Book House, 1958, 413 pp., $6), is reviewed by Andrew K. Rule, Professor of Church History and Apologetics, Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary.

Until quite recently, the evangelical Protestant was in danger of being a frustrated and lonely person. Indeed, most of the religious and theological books asserted or implied that since fundamentalism, liberalism, and Catholicism were the only possible points of view, and since he belonged in none of these, he really did not exist—a somewhat disconcerting conclusion, to say the least. It was perhaps some temporary relief to watch theological liberalism run into frustration, but that relief did not last long. For all the world then seemed to be running after the realists as they poked around in man’s darkest experiences in search of grounds for hope, or running after the ponderous neo-orthodox who have never been able to extricate themselves from a rational presentation of irrationalism. Now, however, the evangelical scholars, who were really present all the time, have begun to speak up and talk back. In the process, they are discovering one another, and the loneliness is disappearing. In this volume, 24 of them are collaborating upon a single theme. They come from the British Isles, France, South Africa, the Netherlands, and our own country. It would not have been difficult, perhaps, to select a similar number from a totally different part of the world.

One wonders whether they will receive much of a hearing except among those already interested in, or committed to, the evangelical position. They deserve to be heard, for they are really scholars, and they have obviously given a courteous if critical hearing to contemporary scholars of a different persuasion. The index shows that nearly three hundred scholars have been cited, a large proportion of whom may be classed as contemporaries. Each of the authors deals with their subject in the light of most recent factual discoveries. They show scholarly restraint in their assertions and a due respect for their opponents. This is polemics at its best.

The topic under discussion is of fundamental importance and one to which general approach has become more reverent and constructive than was the case a generation ago. At that time the main thrust seems to have been an effort to eliminate or at least minimize the supernatural by every possible device. Today the effort is rather, as these writers show, to reverence and defend the written Word while finding some middle ground between supernaturalism and naturalism. Evangelicals are not satisfied with such a middle ground. As the editor says in his preface: “Indebtedness to Kant and Kierkegaard, as well as additional liability to Ebner and Buber in formulating the divine-human encounter; perpetuation of Schleiermacher’s profoundly unbiblical notion that God communicates no truths about himself and his purposes; and above all, injustice to the revelation-status of Scripture were some of the features of neo-orthodoxy that specially troubled us.”

The authors in this book argue for the complete authority of the Holy Spirit, speaking to the whole person, through the Scriptures of which He is the ultimate author. They are contending for no dictation theory. They recognize that, in revelation and inspiration, the human factor was employed and honored; but they maintain that through such means and not in spite of them the Holy Spirit succeeded in imparting the divine message reliably and authoritatively. The present canon of Scripture is the result. The present text, though it contains some errors, most of which are inconsequential, and other parts which may or may not be errors, is a very reliable representation of what was originally written. At least one of the authors seems ready to contend that the original autographs were without error, though many of the writers make no mention of this claim except to maintain that error cannot be attributed to the Holy Spirit.

It seems to this reviewer that they have made out an excellent case for the orthodox view of Scripture which is really, as they show, the Scripture’s own conception of itself. At one point, we started to select which of the chapters seemed to be the most attractive and convincing; but we presently abandoned the attempt through inability to decide which of them could be omitted from the list.

That is not to say, of course, that one will agree without reservation to everything in the volume. For example, we may conclude that the charge made against the claim for inerrant original autographs on the grounds that no one for centuries has ever seen them may be a good debating parry, but it is not good logic to reply, as one of these authors does, that no one has ever seen erroneous original autographs either. For, since the documents now available do seem to contain errors, the burden of proof would seem to lie on those who claim absolute inerrancy for the originals. It would seem better to maintain, as one author does, that in the present state of knowledge and ignorance there are passages over which judgment should be reserved. But that counsel applies to the facile critics as well as to the more cautious orthodox.

This volume should do much to restore to the world of scholarship that respect for the Scriptures which is the characteristic of true Christian piety and which never wholly disappeared even from among the critics.

ANDREW K. RULE

Erecting The Sanctuary

A Guide to Church Building and Fund Raising, by Martin Anderson (Augsburg, 1959, 69 pp., 45 plates, $5), is reviewed by F. R. Webber, Author of The Small Church.

This book is written by a fund raising consultant. His 17 pages devoted to fund raising contain many useful suggestions and may well be used by building committees in their study of the project. The 48 pages of text in which the church building itself is discussed are rather brief. One wishes that Mr. Anderson had said more, for he has some good ideas. For example, he says correctly that choir stalls in the chancel are losing their popularity. A few arguments in favor of the organ and choir loft over the doorway in the architectural “west” end of the building might help convince the building committee. A number of congregations in our eastern States have returned to this arrangement.

The chapter on The Building Committee and Architect is excellent. The organ is worthy of more than five or six lines, and the pulpit, communion rail, and altar cross deserve more than the three words “of appropriate design.” Building committees welcome dimensions.

There are many books on church building. The writer of this review has some 20 shelves of such books, and they all have one shortcoming. They are too vague. It is to be hoped that somebody may write a book on church building that will include full length chapters on such subjects as stone, brick, concrete, timber and other materials of construction. To a building committee stone is stone. They are not aware that there are many grades of stone, ranging from excellent to worthless. It is not enough to specify wood for floor joists and girders. What kind of wood, and what grade? Shall it be structural, select structural, common or ordinary yard-run? How about spans, and spacing? It is just such things that determine whether a church floor will be strong enough to support the live load of 100 pounds per square foot that most laws require, or whether it will sag under its own weight. Three church floors have actually collapsed within living memory. The book that approaches church building from the standpoint of materials of construction has yet to be written.

Augsburg is to be congratulated both for a pleasing example of typography, and for their praiseworthy omission of pages of advertisements of commercial church supply firms and jobbers. Such things are publishers’ devices, and can only bring unhappiness to the man who writes the book.

F. R. WEBBER

Evangelist And Scholar

The Book of Nahum, by Walter A. Maier (Concordia, 1959, 386 pp., $5.75), is reviewed by Edward J. Young, Professor of Old Testament, Westminster Theological Seminary.

Can scholarship and evangelism go hand in hand? Is it possible for a man to be deeply concerned about the eternal welfare of men and at the same time be a genuine scholar? Will not scholarship kill evangelistic fervor? Dr. Walter A. Maier, author of this work, was one of the greatest evangelists of our generation. He was great, not merely because he loved the souls of sinners, but because in great humility he faithfully preached the Word of life. He was a man unwilling to compromise with error, and utterly abhorring expediency. He preached God’s Word as a twentieth century prophet.

At the same time, he was a great scholar. The book under consideration is a scholarly, capable commentary on the biblical book of Nahum. It is quite different from some commentaries produced today. There is none of the verbiage that glosses over biblical passages in the interests of Kierkegaardian existentialism such as some modern writers are fond of employing. There is rather a serious grappling with the text and an honest endeavor to present its meaning. Dr. Maier does not give us the Bible in the light of existentialism and dialectical theology. Rather, he is truly biblical in his presentation and gives us the thought of the Bible as it actually is.

This book comes to serious grips with questions of introduction and exegesis. It is solid treatment of the Hebrew text, a real commentary, the kind of work that will prove of inestimable benefit to any student who truly desires to understand the message of the prophet Nahum.

EDWARD J. YOUNG

The Spiritual Order

A New Heaven and a New Earth, by Archibald Hughes (Presbyterian and Reformed, 1958, 222 pp., $3.75), is reviewed by Loraine Boettner, Author of The Millennium.

This book deals with a subject concerning which there is considerable difference of opinion, namely, the return of Christ and the attendant eschatological events. The author traces the unfolding of revelation from the beginning of the Old Testament, through the prophets, until it becomes clearer and more specific and reaches its climax in the New Testament. The viewpoint is that of Amillennialism.

An admirable feature of the book is the writer’s constant reliance on Scripture to support his position. References are quoted, not merely cited, which is a considerable convenience to the reader. Throughout most of the book controversial matters are kept at a minimum, although in the latter part such matters are anticipated and are dealt with quite fully. The writer is a true scholar and the book bears abundant evidence of careful research.

The peculiar genius of Old Testament prophecy is well brought out in the author’s handling of that subject. He shows that the prophets in portraying the Church era could not use the richness and fullness of New Testament language, for such language would have been largely meaningless to their hearers. Instead they found it necessary to picture the unknown under the terms familiar to their people, such as the land, the temple, and the sacrifices. Similarly he shows that the “natural” children of Israel, the Jews, are for the most part blind to their true inheritance, that they read the Old Testament and long for a restoration of the political kingdom because they do not see that Christ is the promised Messiah and the key to the understanding of the Old Testament. And it is pointed out that the preservation of the Arabs who, through Ishmael, also are descendants of Abraham, is scarcely a less remarkable phenomenon than is the preservation of the Jews.

The kingdom of God as it relates to this world is presented as a spiritual order, inward and individual, which lies within the visible world and expresses itself through its subjects. Furthermore, it is shown that as men are changed, they change institutions and thereby change nations.

A little known quotation from Dr. G. Campbell Morgan is given in which, in 1943, two years before his death, he expressed a view quite different from those he had promoted earlier, which reads as follows: “I am quite convinced that all the promises made to Israel have found, are finding, and will find their perfect fulfillment in the Church. It is true that in the past, in my expositions, I gave a definite place to Israel in the purposes of God. I have now come to the conviction, as I have just said, that it is the new and spiritual Israel that is intended.”

The writer was born in Johannesburg, South Africa, educated in England, and has spent most of his adult life in Australia. He has served as lecturer in the Wesleyan Bible College in Melbourne, and has had a fruitful ministry primarily in the Baptist denomination.

The book is heartily recommended for all who seek a clearer understanding of the events connected with the return of Christ and the attendant events of the end time.

LORAINE BOETTNER

For Sermon Tasters

Great Sermons of the World, edited by Clarence E. Macartney (Baker Book House, 1958, 454 pp., $4.95), is reviewed by V. T. Crawford, Minister, La Grange Methodist Church, North Carolina.

Preachers, students of preaching, and the Christian public will welcome this large and beautifully-bound reprint of Dr. Macartney’s compilation of great sermons. There are 25 given in this book, and they range “from Clement of the first century after Christ to G. Campbell Morgan,” and are prefaced by the Sermon on the Mount and two other sermons taken from the Bible.

Dr. Macartney’s rare selective judgment, always evident in his own religious writings, is seen here in his choice of great sermons.

V. T. CRAWFORD

The Epistle of Jude, apart from the mode of its opening, resembles an urgently penned tract rather than an ordinary letter. It does not appear to have been directed to any particular group of Christians; it is addressed without closer qualification “to them that are called, beloved in God the Father, and kept for Jesus Christ” (v. 2). It thus seems to have been intended for Christians everywhere, since it dealt with a situation which was not confined to any single locality. Therefore it is rightly listed as one of the “general” or “catholic” epistles of the New Testament.

The Author

The author of the little tract identifies himself as “Jude (Judas), a servant of Jesus Christ, and brother of James” (v. 1). In the early Church—at any rate after the martyrdom of James the son of Zebedee in A.D. 44 (Acts 12:2)—there was only one James who could be referred to in this absolute way without the need of further specification; that was James of Jerusalem, “James the Lord’s brother” as Paul calls him in Galatians 1:19; “James the Just” as his contemporaries called him because of his exemplary piety. If the writer of this document was the brother of this James—and there is nothing that forbids the identification—then he was in all probability the Judas who is enumerated among the brothers of Jesus in Matthew 13:55 and Mark 6:3. He is to be distinguished from the apostle Judas (the “Judas not Iscariot” of John 14:22), because it is evident from John 7:5 that the brothers of Jesus did not believe in him before his crucifixion, although they do appear among his followers on the morrow of his resurrection and ascension (Acts 1:14). But, like his brother James, Jude does not claim any authority by virtue of his natural relationship with the Saviour; he is but “a servant of Jesus Christ” (cf. Jas. 1:1).

The second century Christian traveler and narrator Hegesippus tells a story about two grandsons of Jude, which has been preserved for us by the fourth century writer Eusebius in the second book of his Ecclesiastical History. Some ill-disposed persons reported to the Roman Emperor Domitian (A.D. 81–96) that these two men belonged to the royal house of David, and were therefore potential rivals for the imperial authority in Judea, being in fact closely related to one who had been executed as a messianic claimant in Jerusalem two generations previously. Domitian was naturally suspicious, and moreover his attitude to the Jews was markedly unfriendly. It might therefore have gone hard with Jude’s two grandsons; but when the emperor summoned them to his presence, and discovered that they were poor peasants with no royal pretensions, and that the Kingdom in which they were interested was not of this world, he dismissed them as being unworthy of his concern. They lived on into the second century.

The Date

The date of this epistle cannot be fixed with certainty. But if we are right in our conclusions about the author, it must belong to the first century A.D.—possibly to the second half of that century, after the fall of Jerusalem in the year 70. It is included in the Roman list of New Testament books called the “Muratorian Canon,” which belongs to the closing years of the second century. About the same time it is quoted by Clement of Alexandria and Tertullian of Carthage; but there are probable allusions to it much earlier in the second century, in the Syrian document called The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles, and in the allegorical work called The Shepherd, written by a Roman Christian named Hermas. Although there was some dispute in the third and fourth centuries whether it should be included among the canonical writings or not, we may well be glad that its place among them was at last securely established, for (as Origen puts it) “while it consists of but a few verses, yet it is full of mighty words of heavenly grace.”

The Occasion

This was not the treatise with which Jude intended his name to be associated. He tells his readers that, when he had it in mind to write to them on the subject of “our common salvation” (v. 3), he found himself constrained to take up a more controversial line in vigorous defence of the true faith. We need not doubt that this constraint which came suddenly upon him was the constraint of the Spirit by whose inspiration he wrote the short treaties bearing his name.

The early Church was seriously troubled by a fashionable way of thinking and teaching which we know as Gnosticism. The Gnostics, who propagated it, took this name because they believed themselves to be in possession of the true gnosis, or knowledge. The faith and practice of ordinary Christians might be good enough for the rank and file, but for the spiritual elite there were deeper mysteries to penetrate. The full flowering of Gnosticism belongs to the second century, but incipient forms of it can be traced in the first century and are rebutted by such New Testament writers as Paul, John, and Jude.

Gnosticism viewed the material order as being either unreal or inherently evil. This view undermined the biblical doctrine of creation, for obviously something unreal or inherently evil could not have been created by God. It also undermined the doctrine of the Incarnation, for the Eternal Word of God could not have taken to himself a real body according to Gnostic principles; Gnostics therefore could not avoid “denying our only Master and Lord, Jesus Christ” (v. 4)—denying him, that is to say, in the sense in which he is presented in the true Gospel.

The ethical consequences of this false conception revealed themselves in one or the other of two opposite ways. Many Gnostics thought that spirituality was best attained by subjecting the body to a severe ascetic discipline, imposing prohibitions on it like the “Handle not, nor taste, nor touch” of the Colossian errorists (Col. 2:21). Others argued that, since everything material is transient and worthless, the body, which belongs to the material order, is morally neutral; its desires might therefore be indulged at will without doing any harm to the life of the spirit. Some of these may have tried to find support for this position in Paul’s teaching about Christian liberty, misinterpreting that liberty as licence and using it “for an occasion to the flesh” (cf. Gal. 5:13). Jude charges them plainly with “turning the grace of our God into lasciviousness” (v. 4).

Analysis And Argument

The epistle may be divided into five parts: (1) Salutation (vv. 1, 2); (2) Jude’s purpose in writing (vv. 3, 4); (3) False teachers denounced and their doom foretold (vv. 5–16); (4) Exhortation to Christians (vv. 17–23); (5) Doxology (vv. 24, 25).

False teaching compels us to expose such for what it is; it is not enough to set the truth alongside the false in the expectation that everyone will recognize which is which. The refutation of error is an essential correlative to the defence of the faith “once for all delivered unto the saints” (v. 3). Incidentally, this “once for all” character of the Christian faith must be reckoned with as a stumblingblock to secular wisdom, although it is a foundation rock to those who take their stand upon it. This is the very feature that marks Christianity off from ethnic religions; it is firmly anchored in history at the point where God became man for man’s salvation and suffered for us under Pontius Pilate. God has, indeed, fresh light to burst forth continually from his Word; but that Word has already been uttered in Christ and recorded in Holy Writ.

The doom of the false teachers, says Jude, has been pronounced of old. And God’s judgment, though slow, is sure, and once carried out, abides for ever. This, he says, is shown by the examples of the disobedient Israelites whose carcases fell in the wilderness, of the inhabitants of the cities of the plain who were overwhelmed by fire and brimstone, and of the rebellious angels who are reserved for final judgment (vv. 5–7).

These people set constituted authority at defiance, whereas the archangel Michael would not use insulting language to the devil himself (vv. 8–10). The reference to Michael’s dispute with the devil has given rise to much speculation; according to Clement and Origen, the incident was related in The Assumption of Moses (but it does not appear in the part of this work which has survived to our day). With the words of Michael’s rebuke we may compare Zechariah 3:2 where Satan is so addressed by Jehovah himself, “And Jehovah said unto Satan, Jehovah rebuke thee, O Satan; yea, Jehovah that hath chosen Jerusalem rebuke thee: is not this a brand plucked out of the fire?”

The examples of Cain, Balaam, and Korah also point the lesson of doom when the sin and judgment of these Old Testament characters is recalled (v. 11).

When the false teachers mingle with Christians (vv. 12, 13), they introduce trouble and disgrace into the very love feasts of the Church; they are shepherds who feed themselves instead of the flock of God, “blind mouths” in Milton’s telling phrase; they are clouds which hide the sun but send no refreshing rain; they are trees which produce only Dead Sea fruit; they are ineffectual as roaring waves whose rage expends itself in froth and foam; they are stars wandering out of their orbits into everlasting night. The judgment which awaits them at the coming of the Lord was foretold even in antediluvian days by Enoch; the words of verses 14 and 15 can still be read in the first chapter of the Book of Enoch. That the Lord at his coming will be attended by holy myriads is taught elsewhere in both Testaments (cf. Zech. 14:5; Matt. 25:31; 2 Thess. 1:7).

True believers, however, need not be alarmed at the activity of such people whose rise and fall was foretold by the apostles. Let them safeguard themselves by being built up in the faith, by praying in the Spirit, by keeping themselves in the divine love, and by looking forward to the final manifestation of mercy and life at Christ’s appearing (vv. 17–21). While they must abhor and avoid the false teachers, they should pity and rescue those who are misled by them (vv. 22, 23).

The treatise ends with an ascription of praise through Christ to God as the One “that is able to guard you from stumbling, and to set you before the presence of his glory without blemish in exceeding joy, to the only God our Saviour, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion and power, before all time, and now, and forevermore”—a fitting description in view of the subject with which Jude has been dealing.

Literature

The best commentary is that by Joseph B. Mayor, The Epistle of Jude and the Second Epistle of Peter (Macmillan, 1907). Because of its close relationship with II Peter, Jude is often treated along with it in commentaries, and frequently along with the other general epistles. Mayor’s commentary is on the Greek text, so is the volume on St. Peter and St. Jude, by Charles Bigg, in the International Critical Commentary (Edinburgh, 1902). In the Moffatt New Testament Commentary (on the English text), Jude is treated in the volume, The General Epistles, by James Moffatt himself (London, 1928). The massive Exposition of the Epistle of Jude by the seventeenth century Puritan Thomas Manton was reprinted last year by The Banner of Truth Trust, London; the patient reader will find it a mine of spiritual wealth. The volume on the epistles of Peter and Jude in the New International Commentary on the New Testament is being prepared by Professor John H. Skilton of Westminster Theological Seminary.

F. F. BRUCE

Professor of Biblical History

and Literature

University of Sheffield, England

Religious Assemblages

U. S. military chaplains got an intensive briefing on the nation’s declining morals this month and promptly pointed accusing fingers at Playboy magazine and the government’s judicial branch.

Protestant ministers, Catholic priests, and Jewish rabbis looked very much alike in military attire. They also thought very much alike at the 34th annual convention of the Military Chaplains Association in Washington’s Sheraton-Park Hotel. Most of the 287 registered delegates appeared to agree that American morality was deteriorating. After hearing speeches and panel discussions centering on the convention theme, “Moral Leadership for American Youth,” many seemed to be convinced that the hour had come for bold, new approaches.

In a resolution, the chaplains cited Playboy and other publications “which appeal to the prurient interest” and “often openly advocate the overthrow of the basic morality upon which our nation and our Constitution were founded.” The resolution also took a swing at the “judicial branch of our government (which) has been, in many instances, unrealistic in its appraisal of the nature of these publications and fails to realize their incompatibility with the morality of this country.”

A challenge from the floor precipitated the hottest debate of the convention. Dr. Edward L. R. Elson, minister of National Presbyterian Church who as a Reserve colonel has been president of the MCA, wielded the gavel during the 10-minute exchange on the question: Should Playboy be singled out as proposed by a resolutions committee? One delegate asserted it would greatly strengthen the resolution to cite Playboy as a “flagrant example” of the type of periodicals to be condemned. Another argued that naming just one magazine would merely increase the demand for it. A minority cried “no” in the showdown voice vote, but Elson declared the resolution passed unanimously and no objections were raised.

A spokesman for Playboy said “the resolution seems to us to be essentially libelous.” “We have been a victim of the stereotype of Playboy which has sprung up because of our many shabby imitators,” he added. “This is a campaign of intimidation and it has no legal basis. The real issue here is whether any private group—however well-meaning—has a right to dictate what other people may read.” In Playboy’s attitudes toward sex, he said, there is “an essential rapport” with “attitudes of young moderns everywhere.”

The chaplains were pressed for time when they came to grips with Playboy. A few minutes after resolutions were passed, Mrs. Dwight D. Eisenhower arrived and was given a citation commending her for “maintaining an exemplary Christian home.”

Another highlight of the convention was the report of best-selling author Vance Packard (The Hidden Persuaders and The Status Seekers). Packard, who attends a Congregational church in Connecticut, told the chaplains that advertising media and institutional education exert the greatest influences on American thinking and that both outweigh effects of clergy teachings.

Manipulation of the public by advertisers, Packard said, “raises questions of morality.” He stressed that he was not making a general indictment of advertising, but that he was limiting his criticisms to the misuse of motivation research.

He said he was apprehensive over the “deliberate encouragement of irrational behavior” in certain advertising. He cited, for example, (1) planned obsolescence of manufactured products, and (2) emphasis on impulse buying.

According to Packard, changes in the American character are resulting from current commercial techniques. He said younger people especially are responding, becoming more passive and pleasure-minded. Commercial interests, he added, are establishing a mood of “living it up.”

For the coming year, the convening chaplains elected an Episcopal priest as their new president. The office went to Dr. C. Leslie Glenn, now doing research in human relations at the University of Michigan. He is a former rector of Washington’s “Church of the Presidents,” St. John’s on Lafayette Square, and holds the rank of captain in the Navy chaplaincy reserve.

The Military Chaplains Association has a membership of some 1500. Active duty chaplains are given time off to attend the convention. Reservists who register are granted retirement points.

The convention had a grim sequel. A noon luncheon proved to be the occasion of the last public address of Deputy Secretary of Defense Donald A. Quarles. The former Secretary of the Air Force appeared to be in good health and spirits when he spoke to the convention. Three days later he was found dead.

Xenia, Western Merge

Consolidation of Pittsburgh-Xenia and Western Theological seminaries now seems assured, giving Pittsburgh an institution second in size only to Princeton among the seminaries of the United Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A.

The boards of both seminaries met jointly May 8 to hear Dr. Hermann N. Morse, retiring general secretary of the Board of National Missions, give the Survey Committee recommendation of consolidation after a year-long study. Also on the committee were Dr. Wilson Compton, former president of the State College of Washington, and Dean Liston Pope of Yale Divinity School. Acceptance of the Survey Committee’s recommendation was to be reported May 19 to the Committee on Consolidations at the pre-General Assembly meeting in Indianapolis, and approval was expected.

For months apprehension over consolidation centered in Pittsburgh-Xenia, only seminary of the former United Presbyterian Church of North America. Since denominational union with the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A., many observers wondered about the institution’s future in a city in which Western already existed as a Presbyterian seminary. Two schools in one city made a plausible case for merger. Western was also under pressure to move from its North Side site because of urban redevelopment in that area. Pittsburgh-Xenia’s spacious 10-acre property with new buildings at its East Liberty location has room for expansion.

Pittsburgh-Xenia’s merger anxieties were largely theological. Joint faculty meetings in recent months revealed some marked doctrinal differences. The majority of the faculty at Pittsburgh-Xenia is committed to a conservative professional position, and these faculty members did not welcome a consolidation which would equate their position with a more liberal view. It was widely known that Dr. Addison H. Leitch, president of Pittsburgh-Xenia, did not in general favor consolidation, although he was willing to cooperate in an originally proposed theological foundation consisting of several schools and preserving the identity and continuity of Pittsburgh-Xenia for bachelor of divinity training. He was prepared to concede graduate instruction to the Western faculty. So far, no public announcement of separate schools of instruction has been made.

Opposition to merger also developed among Pittsburgh-Xenia students. Of the 180 students working toward the B.D. degree, 139 are of the United Presbyterian Church denomination; 90 of these signed a petition against merger.

Pittsburgh-Xenia’s board voted 22 to 10 for merger at the end of a meeting marked by prayer, fairness and courteous restraint but heavily charged with emotion. Board members were conscious of potential reaction among former United Presbyterians, who for sentimental or theological reasons will be deeply disappointed that the only seminary from the United Presbyterian side in the church merger of a year ago will now lose its particular identity.

On the other hand, merger news brought rejoicing at Western. Dr. Clifford E. Barbour, president, vigorously favored one theological institution in Pittsburgh. He and his faculty and students will soon move to an attractive new campus. Western’s board voted unanimously for the merger, reflecting satisfaction with the prospect of a larger and stronger institution whose theologically inclusivist character will represent the pronounced denominational trend of 25 years. This trend was firmly established by the excommunication from the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. of Dr. J. Gresham Machen and others in 1936.

Of considerable interest remained the question of the choice of a president for the merged seminary—a choice that now will demand a delicate balancing of denominational feelings and tensions.

A New High

A total of $261,686.72 was raised for missions at closing sessions May 3 of the 20th annual Missionary Conference at Boston’s Park Street (Congregational) Church. The funds will support the church’s 120 missionaries in 50 countries and will be distributed among a number of denominational mission boards, large and small, and interdenominational agencies.

The figure was $6,437 greater than the amount reached in last year’s drive. Subscriptions have increased steadily since the present series of missionary conferences began in 1940. That year the church gave $21,000 to missions. The 20-year total exceeds $2,900,000.

The 10-day conference, a highlight of the church’s 150th anniversary observance, broke all previous attendance records. On the program were some 50 missionaries. Morning, afternoon, and evening services were held daily.

Park Street Church’s missionary program is believed to be the largest of any one congregation in the United States. On the North American continent its scope is exceeded only by the Peoples Church of Toronto, whose pastor, Dr. Oswald J. Smith, led the first of the present series of missionary conferences at Park Street in 1940. Smith’s church was to wind up its own missionary conference this month (for a report, see the next issue of CHRISTIANITY TODAY).

International Ethics

Liquor advertising which finds its way north of the border was the topic of a conversation between American and Canadian churchmen and brewery officials at Buffalo, New York, last month.

Representatives to the meeting agreed that a code of “international ethics” should be adopted. Their prime concern was U. S. television and radio advertising which is beamed to Canada, where liquor advertising is prohibited. Liquor advertising in American magazines which circulate in Canada is another problem.

The Buffalo meeting recognized that legal control of across-the-border liquor advertising could probably never be achieved. Its 60 participants issued a statement in which they said that “ethical standards must be formulated and observed.” They recommended further discussion between the Canadian Council of Churches and the National Council of Churches in the U.S.A.

The meeting was sponsored jointly by the Canadian Council of Churches and New York State Council of Churches. Among church leaders attending were the Rev. George Dorey, president of the Canadian Council; the Rev. Kenneth A. Roadarmel, general secretary of the New York Council, and the Rev. Cameron P. Hall, secretary of the NCC’s Department of the Church and Economic Life.

Worth Quoting

Anent recent talk of Protestant-Roman Catholic rapprochement, the 1959 Southern Presbyterian General Assembly reissued a 1946 pastoral letter on the close Protestant-Roman Catholic relationship involved in marriage. Excerpts: “Increasingly evident is the unwisdom of the marriage between Presbyterians and Roman Catholics.

… If a priest of the Roman Catholic church performs the ceremony, the Presbyterian party to the marriage is required to promise to do nothing to change the faith of the Roman Catholic party; although the Roman Catholic is expected by his church to win the Presbyterian. Also the Presbyterian is required to sign away the unborn children to an ecclesiastical organization that will forever forbid them to worship with their parent in the Presbyterian Church.

“We call upon our members to stand uncompromisingly in this matter, to resist resolutely this unfair demand and refuse to make such a promise.… In view of these facts, the General Assembly counsels Presbyterians to refrain from marriage with Roman Catholics as long as the demands and rulings of that church remain unchanged.… The Roman Catholic attitude with reference to mixed marriages makes it impossible for a wholesome family religious life to exist.”

Federal Parochial Aid?

A resolution that virtually calls for federal funds for Roman Catholic parochial schools was adopted by leaders of the National Catholic Educational Association meeting last month in Atlantic City. They urged “that any federal aid be distributed equitably within the limitations of the Federal Constitution so that it may serve the needs of all the youth of our country.”

A Call For Quakers

The 279th Philadelphia Yearly Meeting of Friends last month called for a national conference of Quakers to discuss criminology—particularly capital punishment and juvenile delinquency.

The “Yearly Meeting,” which represents some 100 “Monthly Meetings” in two states, is historically opposed to capital punishment. The Quakers’ concern revolves on such matters as developing job opportunities for released offenders and promoting legislation for rehabilitation programs.

Mormon Converts

The largest of the Mormon bodies claims to have picked up 33,330 converts last year. Membership in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints passed the million-and-a-half mark during 1958, according to statistics released at the church’s 129th General Conference.

Among delegates at last month’s three-day meeting in the Mormon Tabernacle, Salt Lake City: Ezra Taft Benson, secretary of agriculture and a member of the church’s Council of the Twelve Apostles.

Protestant Panorama

• JB, a verse play which puts the story of Job into a modern setting, is the 1959 winner of the Pulitzer prize for drama. The play by Archibald MacLeish has been running on Broadway since December 11.

• The U. S. Supreme Court ruled this month that a municipality, by enforcement of a zoning ordinance, can prohibit erection of a church building.

• The first U. S. transatlantic flagship to pass eastward through the St. Lawrence Seaway included a cargo of more than 4 million pounds of supplies from Lutheran World Relief … Seamen aboard the Prins Johan Willem Friso, first ocean ship to dock in Chicago by way of the new seaway, were given copies of the Scriptures on behalf of the Chicago Bible Society.

• St. Paul, Minnesota, now has six accredited church-related colleges. Latest to be officially recognized by the North Central Association of Colleges and Secondary Schools were Bethel College, a four-year liberal arts college operated by the Baptist General Conference, and Concordia Junior College, operated by the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod.

• Salvador Dali, Spanish surrealist painter, says he would like to design a church dedicated to the success of the Ecumenical Council to be called by Pope John XXIII.

• The world’s largest statue to Christ was unveiled May 17 on the banks of the Tagus River near Lisbon, Portugal. The 92-foot white stone statue stands on a four-pillared pedestal that rises more than 250 feet. Roman Catholics sponsored construction at a cost of some $500,000.

• The United Church of Canada is planning French translations for portions of its Book on Common Order.

• Members of the Evangelical United Brethren Church and the Evangelical Congregational Church formed a pilgrimage to the grave of Jacob Albright, founder of the U. S. Evangelical movement, on the 200th anniversary of his birth. Albright was buried near Lebanon, Pennsylvania.

• Westminster Abbey begins participation this summer in an annual clergy exchange program between councils of churches in the United States and Britain. The Rev. Charles R. Stires, rector of Trinity Episcopal Church in Syracuse, New York, will be first visiting preacher at Westminster.

• Lutherans in the world now total 71,135,068, about one-third of Protestantism, according to the Lutheran World Federation.

• A service in Amsterdam marked the founding there of the world’s first Baptist church 350 years ago. Baptist leaders from many lands attended.

• Some 8,000,000 U. S. youngsters and nearly 100,000 Canadian children will attend vacation church schools, day camps, and work-and-play assemblies this summer, according to an agency of the National Council of Churches.

• The National Council of the Protestant Episcopal Church, rejecting a bid to establish its headquarters in the Interchurch Center in New York, will look elsewhere to locate its offices. “We do not feel that ecumenicity is necessarily or even wisely based on cohabitation,” said Bishop Frederick J. Warnecke.

• The Convocations of Canterbury and York will consider at fall sessions a proposal to embody in Church of England canons a clause ensuring the secrecy of confessions made to priests.

• March and April evangelism campaigns resulted in 143,327 baptisms within the Southern Baptist Convention, according to the department of evangelism of the denomination’s Home Mission Board. A spokesman said Southern Baptists have never had so many baptisms in such a limited period. The campaigns were part of the five-year Baptist Jubilee Advance.

• Dr. Oswald J. Smith, founder of the Peoples Church in Toronto, will conduct an evangelistic series in Europe next month. He plans an 18-day meeting in Helsinki and five-day campaigns in Stockholm and London.

Continent Of Australia

Evangelistic Epoch

Billy Graham, whose crowds have no parallel in religious history, saw his own record broken May 10 when some 150,000 braved chilly winds and rain to attend the evangelist’s closing rally in Sydney, Australia. Graham spoke before 80,000 in the Sydney Showground while another 70,000 listened in an adjoining cricket ground. His previous attendance record, 143,750, was set at Melbourne.

The Sunday afternoon finale saw 5,683 step forward to bring to 56,840 the number of persons who made decisions for Christ in 26 Sydney meetings.

Graham said at the close of the Sydney crusade that his ailing left eye felt “better than it has for months.” He said that his vision was “almost normal.”

Meetings in Adelaide, Perth, and Brisbane were being held with the aid of Graham’s associate evangelists. Graham himself was to speak at closing rallies at each of the cities. His last scheduled public meeting in Australia was set for May 31, in Brisbane.

Hoping for a summer’s rest, Graham has kept his engagements for the coming weeks to a minimum. His next extended crusade is scheduled for Indianapolis, beginning October 6.

Following is an appraisal of Graham’s Australasia crusade by Dr. Sherwood E. Wirt, California Presbyterian minister who witnessed the meetings:

As their epoch-making Australasia crusade neared its climax this month with meetings in Adelaide, Perth and Brisbane, members of the Billy Graham team devoted Saturday morning sessions to pondering and praying over concerns fraught with spiritual significance for the lands “down under.”

To be specific, evangelicals in 1954, at the close of the Harringay crusade, thought Great Britain was on the verge of the major “break-through” of the Holy Spirit. That hour has passed, and doors which seemed open, appear to have closed. Now God is presenting a fresh opportunity. Australia and New Zealand, after meetings which have seen nearly every Graham crusade record broken, share a spiritual mood unparalleled in the history of the antipodes.

There is scarcely a church in either commonwealth that has not felt the direct or indirect impact of the crusade. There is hardly a village that has not sensed the throb of new life in the midst. If the history of the Christian Church in the Southern Hemisphere is ever written, it will certainly characterize A.D. 1959 as the year of revival.

Melbourne was amazing; Tasmania was heartwarming; New Zealand’s “feast of a week” was a miracle of grace; and yet somehow what happened in and out of the Showground at Sydney surpassed them all! During the final two weeks land relay lines, carrying the direct telephonic message from the rostrum, penetrated far into the “bush country,” bringing the message into 300 communities of New South Wales and beyond. In halls where platforms were empty save for a sound box, Australians gathered by hundreds of thousands to hear the Gospel flanked by pastors and counselors. Showground crowds were tremendous. In two weeks Sydney had more decisions and inquiries than San Francisco had in seven. A crowded chartered train arrived from Melbourne and Billy appealed to the throng for housing. It was estimated that the number of persons attending actual crusade meetings in Australia alone would surpass two million.

In New Zealand, with the addition of land-line listeners (as in Dunedin, where the town hall was packed for all six nights), it was believed that one-fourth of the entire dominion population heard the preaching of the Gospel of Christ through Mr. Graham and his associate evangelists, Grady Wilson, Leighton Ford and Joseph Blinco. (Cultural note: there is no television yet in New Zealand.) In one small city, Matamata, after a relay line meeting, the ministerial association was specially convened and the pastors unanimously agreed to issue a public Gospel invitation from their pulpits on the following Lord’s Day.

Graham To Moscow?

Billy Graham may hold a three-day evangelistic series in the First Baptist Church of Moscow, according to reports from the Russian capital.

Graham’s Moscow visit presumably would come in June, when he is returning from his Australasia crusade via Europe. However, as of the close of his Sydney crusade, the evangelist had not commented on the Moscow report.

Graham also is reported to have an invitation from the Archbishop of Canterbury to visit Lambeth Palace while en route back to the United States.

Yet to the subjects of the Queen in Australasia the most remarkable feature of the crusade was not the strong preaching of the evangelist, or the thrilling stories of conversions and altered lives that filtered up through the counseling and follow-up departments; or the masses that swarmed over the great rugby and cricket parks and choked the aisles at the invitation. Australians were aware that these phenomena had attended other Graham meetings elsewhere in the world. What really amazed the folk “down under” was the way they began treating each other.

Call the fourteen visiting Americans what you will (Mr. Blinco is a Britisher, but is moving this summer to Oklahoma City), they had the church people of Australia and New Zealand working and talking together and recognizing each other as they had never done before. After Billy Graham had addressed the pastors of Sydney, Alan Walker, noted leader of world Methodism, rose deeply moved to say, “I see now that the unity we have sought so long in committees, and seen so little of, comes only when we are actively seeking to fulfil our common task in the carrying out of the Great Commission.” So it was that Anglicans, Presbyterians, Plymouth Brethren, Disciples of Christ, Congregationalists, Baptists, Methodists, Pentecostals and the Salvation Army suddenly “discovered” each other in a new and significant way.

To be sure, there was foot-dragging in all these groups, but they made an impressive Christian front as they labored on bus assignments, handed out memos, counseled inquirers, prayed, took notes, sang, set up chairs and drank endless cups of “tay” together for the glory of God and the triumph of his grace. One noted author and ecclesiastic, a bishop of the Church of England, politely refused to sit on the platform and chose instead the anonymity of the follow-up room, where he helped 50 to 75 volunteer typists crank out decision card referrals to be posted to ministers before dawn.

One Presbyterian minister in Sydney found himself with 300 such cards after only two weeks of meetings, threw up his hands and invited them all to tea in his church. Another pastor, who told the press, “I don’t agree with Billy Graham,” nevertheless found himself reading the Scripture at the Showground and opening his pulpit to a member of the team—who responded by giving an invitation to Jesus Christ. Dr. Stuart Barton Babbage, dean of Melbourne Cathedral of St. Paul, on the first Sunday evening after the crusade invited those who would like to make a commitment to Jesus Christ to remain after the service. Three hundred stayed!

Australia’s moral problems were reflected in odd ways. One lady who used to stable her horses under the stands in Sydney Showground now found herself in the same stable—taking instruction in the Christian life from Mr. Blinco. Another lady who had gone forward to receive Christ announced, “I feel as if I had just won the lottery!”

As usual, back of the great surge of love and light and tears and joy was the careful preparation and organization of dedicated men. The chief architect of the Australasia crusade, humanly speaking, was the Rev. Jerry Beavan, who spent 18 months on the site. Visitation evangelism follow-up was directed by the Rev. Leslie Green, an American Disciples minister who took a leave of absence from his church in Chatswood, a suburb of Sydney. Graham himself went to Australia against the advice of doctors, but has promised to listen to them this summer as he takes a three-month rest without major responsibilities.

Meanwhile Australia and New Zealand churchmen were urging other members of the Graham team to remain behind or to return soon, to help them deal with the tremendous question, “What next in Australasia?”

Dominion Of Canada

A Coordinated Brief

Representatives of more than 40 organizations, including major Protestant denominations in Canada, presented a brief to Prime Minister John Diefenbaker last month urging a constitutional amendment to guarantee freedom of religion. The brief recommends a freedom of religion clause in Diefenbaker’s proposed bill of rights.

The brief suggested that this clause be included in the bill of rights: “Every one has the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion; this right includes freedom to maintain or to change his religion or belief and freedom either alone or in community with others and in public or private, to manifest his religion or belief in worship, teaching, practice and observance, all without coercion in any way.”

The prime minister, however, said that certain rights of provinces preclude a constitutional amendment on freedom of religion at this time. He indicated that a statute could be enacted to the same effect.

Continent Of Europe

A Leading Issue

German churchmen are sharply divided on the question of whether their country should utilize atomic armament in the event of war. Dr. Martin Niemoeller, president of the Evangelical Church of Hesse and Nassau, upholds an even more pacifistic question: Shall the state employ force of any kind to defend itself?

The showdown came last month in the synod of Niemoeller’s church. After heated debate in which the president raised unsuccessful objections, the synod upheld the right of a state to employ force in the protection of justice and peace in a “Clarifying Message to Soldiers.”

The church’s primary mission, the message stated, is “to preach the Gospel of the free grace of God.”

Some weeks ago, Defense Minister Franz-Josef Strauss instituted legal action against Niemoeller for allegedly insulting the West German army. The churchman was charged with making derogatory remarks at a pacifist rally.

The message said that while helpful understanding on the part of the church includes protection of those refusing armed service on conscientious grounds, “the church, at the same time, has a responsibility to render pastoral care to politicians and soldiers who are forced by their conscience to take upon themselves, according to human insights and ability, the gravest decisions for the sake of preserving peace.”

People: Words And Events

Deaths: Dr. Yngve T. Brilioth, 67, former Archbishop of Uppsala and Primate of the Lutheran Church of Sweden, in Uppsala, Sweden … Archdeacon Donald Rieginald Weston of the Anglican Church in Northern Rhodesia, in an automobile accident near Lusaka, Northern Rhodesia … Dr. George B. Connell, 54, president of the Southern Baptists’ Mercer University, in Macon, Georgia … Albert Crews, 51, director of program promotion and station relations for the Broadcasting and Film Commission of the National Council of Churches, at Port Washington, New York … Dr. Henry R. Boyes, 69, medical missionary of the United Presbyterian Church in the U. S. A., in Detroit … Dr. John Bunyan Smith, 85, for 25 years pastor of the Baptist White Temple of San Diego, California.

Elections: As Bishop of the Evangelical Augsburg (Lutheran) Church in Poland, Dr. A. Wantula … as president of the Hungarian Ecumenical council, Dr. Tibor Bartha … as president of the General Convent, highest governing body of the Hungarian Reformed Church, Bishop Elemer Gyory … as executive secretary-treasurer of the Historical Commission of the Southern Baptist Convention, Davis Collier Woolley.

Appointments: As cadet chaplain at the U. S. Military Academy, West Point, New York, Dr. Theodore C. Speers, minister of the Central Presbyterian Church, New York City … as president of Seattle Pacific College, Dr. C. Dorr Demaray … as president of Texas Lutheran College, Dr. Marcus C. Rieke … as academic dean and professor of psychology of religion at Scarritt College, Dr. John W. Johannaber … as associate professor of Old Testament at Gordon Divinity School, Dr. Charles F. Pfeiffer … as associate professor of Christian education at Wesley Theological Seminary, Dr. Mary Alice Douty … as associate director of the National Council of Churches’ Office of Finance, Herbert T. Miller … as general secretary of the Congregational Christian Churches’ Board of Home Missions, Dr. William Kincaid Newman … as chief executive assistant to the presiding bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church, Warren H. Turner, Jr.

Retirement: As editor of the weekly Biblical Recorder, Dr. L. L. Carpenter, effective December 31.

Coronation: As Patriarch of the Coptic Church under his chosen name of Kryollos VI, the former Archpriest Mina Albaramoussi Elmetwahad.

Nero’S Gardens

Archeologists in Rome claim to have found the site of Emperor Nero’s gardens where Christians were massacred in the first century. Ancient walls, stairways, and mosaics found in excavations between the River Tiber and the Vatican are said to constitute the remains of Nero’s infamous pleasure grounds where Christians were burned to death.

NEWS

CHRISTIANITY TODAY

Special Report

In event of full-scale war, American church life faces disruptions in at least two major respects: (1) Foreign missions programs would likely be curtailed, and mass evacuations of missionaries could create a desperate need for funds. (2) Many congregations stand to lose pastors who become military chaplains.

To aid church life in event of enemy attacks on U. S. soil, the government’s Office of Civil Defense and Mobilization is promoting local preparedness programs through its Religious Affairs Service.

A survey this month byCHRISTIANITY TODAY, however, indicated no broad plans exist to help stranded missionaries should hostilities break out. Here is what the survey reveals:

Missionary problems arising from a wartime situation would be met individually, according to present policies of such agencies as the Division of Foreign Missions of the National Council of Churches, the Commission of the Churches on International Affairs, and the Evangelical Foreign Missions Association.

Dr. Clyde W. Taylor, EFMA executive secretary, said, “In a local war we would strongly urge that missionaries move out of areas which are likely to be overrun.”

Missionary efforts in a war zone would be curtailed to a point where workers would be of little value even if they did stay, he said.

A nuclear, global war presents a different problem, according to the missions leader. “If the U. S. mainland is attacked,” he said, “there is no point in calling missionaries home. Their own fields probably would be safer places to stay.”

He also suggested that “staying put” would be wise in any kind of war in areas where no fighting is in prospect. He recalled that during World War II many missionaries in Africa remained at their posts for the duration.

Taylor remarked that missionaries are almost invariably courageous, often to the extent of risking their lives if they felt compelled to stay with their work. He said missionaries are “hard to move,” which presents problems for government agencies concerned about their welfare.

Taylor cited public apathy on making ready for possible war. “We are psychologically unprepared for a global conflict,” he said.

Any buildup of military manpower to meet aggression will be accompanied by immediate demands for more chaplains, these to come from Reservist ranks and civilian pulpits. The following sums up opportunities in the military chaplaincy:

Wholesale induction of ministers, certain in an outbreak of full-scale war, would strike severe blows to American church life. Should there be a shortage of clergymen, congregations and denominational officials might tend to lower standards by which pastors are chosen.

But build-up in military manpower also represents a new, enlarged field of service to clergymen who answer a call to the chaplaincy. Ideally, the chaplain can simultaneously be a preacher, missionary, counsellor, and teacher. In addition to conducting worship services, chaplains are expected to give personal advice, deliver “character guidance” lectures (to assemblies where attendance is mandatory), and visit hospitals. Overseas assignments often present opportunities to minister off the base among the civilian population as well.

During World War II some 11,000 men saw service as chaplains. This is the current picture, which compares approximate totals of chaplains on full-time active duty and those in civilian reserves:

The number of chaplains in the U. S. armed forces is regulated according to denominational strength. Denominations can expect, generally, to have chaplain representation in proportion to their memberships. Peacetime chaplain quotas are limited, and applicants for active duty often encounter waiting lists.

New chaplains are commissioned one grade higher than new officers in other branches. The services claim to give chaplains pay and benefits comparable to what clergymen earn in civilian life.

Reserve chaplains lead normal civilian lives except that they attend regular military meetings and annual summer camps. Reserve status and part-time service can mean for a minister as much as $1,000 added income annually.

Chaplain Recruitment

Applicants for active duty chaplaincy assignments in the armed forces of the United States must be in good standing with their denominations. Ordination and endorsement by a church body is essential. Also required of the applicant are three years of training in an approved theological school, plus 120 semester hours of undergraduate credit at a recognized college or university.

Chaplain commissions normally are in the nature of Reserve appointments. Applicants may request active duty or elect to remain on inactive duty. Reserve chaplains are not involuntarily called to active duty unless mobilization needs so demand. Some Reservists subsequently are awarded “Regular” commissions.

Some denominations submit chaplain applications directly to the services. Most, however, deal through agencies such as the General Commission on Chaplains and the National Association of Evangelicals’ Commission on Chaplains.

Upon induction, the new chaplain is sent to an orientation school for some two months “to assist … in making the transition” to service life.

Each service procures its own chaplains. In recent months, all have been emphasizing solicitation of inactive duty Reservists. Details of chaplaincy programs are available from the Chief of Chaplains of the Army, Navy, or Air Force, Washington 25, D. C.

‘Discriminatory’ Act

The 34th annual convention of the Military Chaplains Association petitioned Congress to revise a law which is eliminating certain Army officers before they are eligible for paid retirement.

Army chaplains bear the brunt of an amendment tacked on to the Reserve Officer Personnel Act of 1954 by the 85th Congress. The amendment set up for Army officers a “basic age at 25,” which interpreted by service heads means that those below the grade of colonel who have not completed 28 years of active and reserve duty by age 53 cannot be retained, No exception is made for chaplains, whose training and experience requirements make it virtually impossible for them to enter the service before they reach their late twenties. All officers must have at least 20 years of service before they can retire with pay.

A resolution of the convening chaplains charged that the amendment is “discriminatory” and that it constitutes an “unethical change in contract with all reserve officers.” The resolution said the existing law would force more than 150 Army chaplains from active duty by June, 1960, and many more from Reserve ranks.

The “basic age at 25” amendment was said to be aimed at thinning out the large number of Army majors and lieutenant colonels given commissions during World War II.