Page 6387 – Christianity Today (2024)

Top ecumenist Edwin T. Dahlberg, on a year-end world tour of U. S. military installations, found himself called upon in Formosa to answer for anti-Nationalist China recommendations of the Fifth World Order Study Conference, held in Cleveland more than 14 months ago.

Far East News Service reported that Dahlberg voiced “complete agreement” with findings of the widely-criticized Cleveland report which urged that Communist China be recognized by the United States and admitted to the United Nations.

Dahlberg stopped in Taipei while on the annual visit of the National Council of Churches’ president to American servicemen abroad. At a dinner in the Grand Hotel he faced 21 representatives of American missionary, military, and government bodies.

Asked point blank about his stand, Dahlberg replied: “My personal conviction regarding this NCC world study group recommendation is that I am in complete agreement with their report. Furthermore, I think that years from now we will look back to this as one of the great steps of the Christian Church. I do not think that the NCC will repudiate the recommendation of the world order study group.”

Dahlberg thus discarded recently emerging hesitancies on the part of Ernest A. Gross, chairman of the Cleveland conference and of the NCC’s Department of International Affairs, which sponsored the conference.

Several weeks earlier, Gross told a church council seminar in Albany, New York, that Communist China is “not entitled” to be recognized by the United States. He had made no such public statement during the Cleveland meeting.

Gross is a former U. S. ambassador to the United Nations and a former assistant secretary of state. He said:

“For the United States to grant judicial recognition to the Chinese Communist regime so long as it pursues its present course appears to many of us to confer upon that government a benefit to which it is not entitled.”

Prior to arrival in Formosa, Dahlberg had been given an advance billing as “principal voice of American Protestantism.” He was accompanied by Dr. Fred S. Buschmeyer, assistant general secretary of the NCC and director of its Washington, D. C., office. Buschmeyer also was a delegate to the Cleveland conference.

In the hotel meeting, Dahlberg conceded that perhaps as many as 90 per cent of the Chinese people oppose the present mainland regime. His comment:

“I don’t think that our Christianity depends on our freedom. I believe we will get farther with all countries in the United Nations. Wherever the United Nations steps in, it brings a healing influence.”

At that point one missionary challenged the NCC leader to explain what “healing influence” the U.N. was able to exert in the Red rape of Hungary.

Asked how he could urge the U. S. government to recognize and cooperate with a government which has persecuted churches, Dahlberg replied:

“Recognition and cooperation are two different things.”

His strong endorsement of the Cleveland conference’s recommendations drew vigorous protests from American Protestant missionary leaders in Formosa. They charged that he had embarrassed the missionary community of Formosa and had flagrantly abused his “diplomatic immunity” (as a guest of the U. S. government) in advocating Red China recognition while visiting on Free China soil.

“No objection to the NCC’s study course was answered,” observed one missionary, “and no effective notice was taken of the unanimous opposition of those here whom Dr. Dahlberg admitted were qualified observers.”

Another missionary asserted that Dahlberg’s statements were a basic violation of the American principle of separation of church and state.

The Case For Free China

James Dickson, Taipei correspondent forCHRISTIANITY TODAY, is one of the most noted and respected missionaries on Formosa. Except for a five-year stint in British Guiana during World War II, Dickson and his wife have served there continuously since 1927. Though both are Americans, they work under the General Board of Missions of the Presbyterian Church in Canada. Dickson holds degrees from Macalester College and Princeton Theological Seminary.

Here is his appraisal of tensions between Red China and Free China:

China is one of four nations which in the past few years have been divided between communism and democracy.

Little is said for recognition of Red regimes in Germany, Korea, and Indochina. But certain groups have rather persistently demanded recognition of Communist China. Why?

Many well-meaning people, in no way sympathetic with the Communist system, sincerely feel there is good reason to recognize the Peking government.

Some argue that recognition of Communist China might cause her rulers to become more conciliatory, and that international tensions would thereby be eased.

But is there evidence of such change of heart where other Communist regimes have been recognized? On the contrary, Communist leaders have used added prestige to further their own diabolical aims at the expense of non-Communist governments. It is unrealistic to imagine that Red China, already notorious for the oppression that has characterized communism everywhere, will do an about-face.

Some feel recognition of Red China would be valuable because it would result in increased international trade.

Again, evidence does not support the argument. Great Britain, which extended recognition to the Chinese Reds soon after they took over, found that it took years to bring the value of its trade with mainland China to the levels recorded in pre-Communist days. On the other hand, West Germany, which still has not recognized the Peking government, annually surpasses Great Britain in the amount of trade with Communist China. Communist countries seem to have a well-established trade principle; when it is to their advantage, and at their own terms, are they ready to do business. There is no free trade on a people-to-people basis. Trade must be done with the government.

Then there is the argument that Communist Chinais the de facto government of China, and—so the advocates of recognition say—it is wrong to recognize the government of Free China in Formosa (which controls only a small portion of the area which made up the Chinese Republic at the end of World War II) and to refuse recognition to Red China.

True, the Communist regime is in control of the great land areas of China. But is this the decisive determinant in recognition of a government?

During the coming presidential campaigns the possibility of a Roman Catholic nominee will again occupy the attention of the country. The politicians will calculate whether the solid Catholic vote will overbalance the number of Protestants who may bolt their party. The fate of Al Smith will be recalled.

But conditions are different now from those of 1928. Roman Catholics have elected a record number of governors; their political power has greatly increased. Then too, several periodicals have made soundings and have reported that anti-Catholic feeling is on the wane. Protestants who oppose the election of a Romanist have been and are going to be called bigots; and some Protestants will vote for a Catholic nominee just to show how broad-minded they are.

But is it bigotry to oppose the election of a Roman Catholic for president? What is bigotry? The dictionary defines a bigot as one who is obstinately and irrationally, often intolerantly, devoted to his own church, party, belief, or opinion; and bigotry is said to be unreasoning attachment to one’s own belief. Is then opposition to the election of a Roman Catholic bigoted?

Well, first of all, this opposition is certainly not unreasoning. The past history and present practice of the Roman church illustrates its acceptance of the policy of persecution and oppression. The Protestants do not base their opposition merely on the massacre of St. Bartholomew’s Eve nor on the Pope’s efforts to raise a rebellion against Queen Elizabeth. There are current events in Colombia, Spain, Italy, and Quebec. Where the Romanists are strong enough, they persecute; where less strong, they oppress and harass; where they are in the minority, they seek special privileges, government favor, and more power. A Catholic president alone will not turn the United States into a Colombia or Spain, but he would in all likelihood knowingly or otherwise take what steps he could in that direction.

Opposition to political Romanism is not unreasoning, because a Catholic in the presidency would be torn between two loyalties as no Protestant has ever been. A candidate may announce, and even sincerely believe, that he is immune to Vatican pressure; but can we be sure that he will not succumb in the confessional booth to threats of purgatory and promises of merit from the organization which he believes to hold the keys of heaven?

The Vatican does all in its power to control the governments of nations, and in the past and present it has often succeeded. The Pope favored Mussolini’s conquest of Ethiopia. He made a concordat with Hitler, a concordat that still is in force in Germany as a last remnant of an evil rule. The United States a century ago had unpleasant experiences with the Vatican and had to break off diplomatic relations—relations that should never have been established in the first place and should never be resumed. We know that Romanists do not accept the separation of the Church and State; we know that they oppose a government’s treating all churches alike; we know that they constantly seek tax money for their own uses.

Informed Protestants therefore believe, not at all irrationally, that the interests of the nation are safer in the hands of one who does not confess to a foreign, earthly power.

Far from bigotry, opposition to the nomination and election of a Romanist is perfectly rational. To suggest that this opposition is bigotry is itself a smear campaign. It is an effort to distract the public’s mind. It attempts to obscure the important difference between the wise policy of acknowledging religious liberty for all, even for Roman Catholics who do not believe in it, and the unwise policy of choosing a Romanist government that could take the first steps which would extinguish religious liberty.

The truth of the situation is not Protestant bigotry, but Romish smear.

WHITE HOUSE CONFERENCE ON AMERICAN YOUTH

The sixth White House Conference on Children and Youth, scheduled March 27-April 1, promises to be a colossal affair with significant ramifications. For one thing, this “golden anniversary” conference will be bigger than its predecessors: in 1909, there were 200 participants, whereas in 1960 invitations will go to 1700 representatives of national organizations, 2900 representatives of state agencies and committees, and 500 international guests. A million dollar budget is being met by $350,000 from government agencies, a lion’s share from private foundations (including $250,000 from Ford Foundation), and token appropriations by denominational boards. A staff of 50 specialists is correlating background data, and Columbia University Press is publishing three volumes, including 33 background papers. Plenary sessions will have to be held in University of Maryland fieldhouse and in the Armory.

But significance is no mere matter of size. The conference, notably, is the first in its series to deal overtly with values and ideals. Somewhat oversimply it may be said that the 1909 conference was concerned mainly with institutions, 1919 and 1930 with health, 1940 with children in a democracy, while 1950 popularized the relevance of new psychiatric concepts. But the 1960 conference sets sights on development of the creative life and freedom and dignity of the person, through commitment to values and ideals. President Eisenhower has previously emphasized the importance, in the present ideological and moral crisis, of articulating basic values in the home, in the school, and in the churches, and some observers expect the White House conference to echo this note.

A second important development lies in the fact that every other major speaker is prominently identified with religion. The executive committee (of 92 persons), significantly, did not split apart in projecting this emphasis on religion. The apparent basis of concord, however, is additionally noteworthy, for it marks an approach to American youth problems on an interfaith platform. One workshop will wrestle with the significance of personal faith for children and youth. The “coalition” of Protestant-Catholic-Jewish religious views may also be detected in the Columbia Studies, the first volume of which is devoted to perspectives. A fourth feature of the conference, perhaps not fully reconciled with other facets, is the prominent role comprehended for the Church, its exact nature left undefined.

While differences are submerged in the background studies, the conference itself doubtless will propel many of these topics into the controversial foreground, among these “planned parenthood” and “Federal aid to education.” Secretary of Health, Education and Welfare Arthur Flemming, most “welfare state”-minded member of the Eisenhower cabinet and former NCC leader, will close the conference “looking to the future.” Roman Catholic delegates will be outnumbered—and their spokesmen lost a strategy battle to allow the executive committee to draft the final report, rather than a decision on its contents by democratic floor vote—but procedural rules will allow a minority report wherever the dissenting vote reaches 15 per cent.

To what extent will the interest in values prove genuinely theistic, let alone Christocentric, rather than merely humanistic? To what extent will it reflect a spontaneous reaching toward spiritual dedication, rather than merely a veering from a vacuum by uncommitted men suddenly concerned because communism vaunts a specific ideology? All this remains to be seen. One fact, however, is sure. Although the White House conference lacks authority to speak for government, for educators, or for the churches—and will be formulating nobody’s “official” point of view—its prestige will carry to many special interests. It will be in the national interest and well-being, therefore, that study sessions reflect the concerns not only of “the experts,” but also of the American multitudes at grass roots, to whom school boards and teachers are answerable for the public training of American youth.

THE CHURCH’S MISSION AND NCC’S PROPAGANDA DRIVE

Some agencies of the National Council of Churches seem determined to propagandize World Order Study Conference commitments—including the Cleveland plea for Red China—despite the fact that 1. NCC publicly minimized responsibility for Cleveland positions; 2. trustworthy polls of Protestant conviction discredited the plea for recognition of Red China; 3. several NCC member bodies dissented sharply from Cleveland commitments; 4. some leaders concede that NCC has already lost $100,000 in gifts because of its shallow position on Red China.

The newsletter of the Greater Portland Council of Churches, announcing an orientation meeting for “Peace Education,” lists six areas “which the National Council of Churches has suggested” for discussion, including “Should the representatives of Red China be recognized by the U.N.?” The announcement adds: “An outstanding group of speakers has been selected to speak on these issues. After the panel presents their statements, there will be workshops on implementation of this subject in the local church.” Nobody should be surprised, in view of the preoccupation of the panels with the proposed subjects of birth control, atomic bombs, foreign aid, restrictive real estate contracts, and recognition of Red China, that the NCC’s list of topics ends with: “Are Christian Missions obsolete?”

During the “nationwide program for peace” pushed by NCC’s Department of International Affairs these next five months in “education and action programs for peace in every possible local church throughout the country,” background papers of the World Order Study Conference are being widely distributed by NCC agencies. The literature proposes that the minister and lay leaders insinuate the peace program into every phase of local church life, including the pulpit, study classes, schools of missions, and prayer meetings. One continuing NCC goal is “the establishment, or strengthening, of a Christian social action committee in every possible local church … to assure an ongoing focus of responsibility in international affairs and related matters.” A pattern is to be laid for an ongoing annual program after 1960 “in which the churches will seek to concentrate on three or four issues each year in international affairs, primarily those which would be up for consideration by the people and government of the United States or at the United Nations.”

One might wish that ecumenical leaders were concerned to mobilize the resources of the local churches as fully and effectively for the reconciliation that proceeds from “peace through the blood of Christ’s cross” (cf. Col. 1:20). Then the declaration that “the Church is mission” would raise fewer fears that her historic mission is being subtly transformed.

THE MODERN DEBATE ON THE DEATH PENALTY

This issue of CHRISTIANITY TODAY carries forward the discussion of capital punishment, initiated some months ago, with special attention to the biblical data.

One gains the impression that opponents of the death penalty, even when appealing to Scripture, often rely decisively on modern social and penal theories. Since the arguments on this horizontal level are not confronted by Dr. Gordon H. Clark’s comments, a supplementary word may be in order.

Statistics have been cited both to support and to oppose the claim that execution deters capital crimes. But a Christian lawyer, Roscoe G. Sappenheld of Geneva, Illinois, reminds us of an observation made by Judge Marcus Kavanaugh of Cook County Superior Court, Illinois, before the Detroit College of Law (Michigan does not impose the death penalty): “Detroit with 1,600,000 residents, has had 484 homicides in two years, while Windsor, only twenty minutes from here, and with 75,000 residents, has had no homicides. Do you need any further arguments for capital punishment?” When capital crime statistics are unfavorable in jurisdictions that impose the death penalty, Attorney Sappenfield adds, the law is not a deterrent because it is not really enforced.

The judicial taking of human life is, in fact, the state’s most solemn function. Efforts to contravene capital punishment by appeal to the commandment against murder, or to Christ’s exhortation to love of enemies, do less than justice to the divinely decreed role of the state, that of preserving justice in a fallen society. Even ancient pagan moralists like Plato and Cicero noted what modern social theorists so often overlook, that punishment is related to justice more fundamentally than to utility, and that it is retributive. The guilty are not condemned to death primarily for their own ethical improvement, or to deter others from similar crimes—although contemplation in the shadows of doom encourage the criminal to side with the law and may shape moral earnestness and repentance, and hinder others also from similar crimes. But, as Mr. Sappenfield writes, “consequence must not be confounded with purpose. For the reason capital punishment is inflicted is not utility but the fact that the law has been violated, and that the capital crime requires the death of the offender. The protection of society, like the personal conversion of the criminal, is secondary. If the public good were the basic reason for punishment, the criminal could be made to suffer more than his crime deserves in order to effect public safety, and man is made to suffer, not for the sake of justice, but for the sake of others.”

Mr. Sappenfield calls attention to another interesting correlation, the fact that the distaste for capital punishment often proceeds alongside a rejection of the doctrine of eternal punishment of sinners. In both cases, modern social conscience suffers from an undervaluation of the righteousness of God and of the wickedness of wrongdoing.

U.S.I.S. FUNDS USED FOR BUDDHIST PROPAGANDA

Although American traditions are mainly shaped by the Christian heritage of the West, the founding fathers insisted on “separation of Church and State” as an essential safeguard in the platform of liberty.

In their official capacities, American government leaders often refer to this “wall of separation” by speaking simply of God the Creator and suppressing a high Christology. The United States Information Agency, meanwhile, takes a provocative course in its direct use of government funds in the service of pagan religion.

A pointed example exists in Thailand. Last fall United States Information Service presented 4,000 copies of The Life of Buddha (edited by a Thai scholar of international stature and published by U.S.I.S. in 1958) to the Anandba Mahidol Foundation. The book was also distributed to Thai clerical and lay leaders throughout that land, and used as a personal presentation item by Embassy and U.S.I.S. officers. The agency’s dull awareness of the underlying issue—use of U.S. funds for anti-Christian propaganda abroad while Christian propaganda is avoided at home in deference to “Church-State separation” is obvious from its confidence that the project was “extremely successful” since “USIS received more favorable public acclaim for this project than for any other we have ever organized in Thailand.”

EXPLODING POPULATIONS AND BIRTH CONTROL

Exploding world populations pose new problems. But much of the prattle stressing birth control as the main solution is more wordy than wise. It proposes, for one thing, a quantitative solution of man’s moral and spiritual dilemma. And frequently it involves earnest churchmen in sheer relativism.

Take the Lambeth conferences. In 1920 contraceptives were declared immoral. A subsequent conference “hedged.” The last conference approved. What next?

There is reason for dissatisfaction, of course, with pretensions that the Roman church has power to decide that birth control is moral by natural law but immoral by artificial means. But an individual’s “good conscience” before God, in view of the principled claim of the biblical revelation upon his heart, can be equally thwarted by Protestant pronouncements—which unfortunately count for less and less.

Many churchmen are uneasy because attempts to justify birth control by appeal to population explosions come dangerously near to making the end justify the means. So responsible parenthood, not exploding population, gets more and more emphasis. But just which parents are responsible for whose children?

JUNGLE ROT COMES FROM THE JUNGLE

Anti-Semitism is best described as a jungle rot of the human spirit. It is a particularly unpleasant testimony to original sin, and a sign of ill-health in any environment. Recent outbreaks of defamation in Germany, England, America and other countries provide both an index and a warning. Jungle rot develops where dampness and lack of sunshine create fungus conditions. Anti-Semitism can breed only in diseased segments of the human family where unfettered pride cohabits with unlimited ignorance.

Regardless of what may be thought to the contrary, the Christian Church has no part of anti-Semitism. The divinely-prescribed attitude of the Christian toward his Jewish neighbor has not changed since Paul wrote the ninth, tenth and eleventh chapters of Romans. We honor the sons and daughters of Israel. We thank God for them. In a free land we acknowledge and defend their rights individually and as a group. We look forward to the day when “all Israel shall be saved: as it is written.” No Christian who has been to the Cross and has found his sins forgiven through the blood of Jesus Christ could possibly take any other position.

Yet here is the paradox: anti-Semitism (which is as old as the Pharaohs) has been sown in earlier centuries by those who have claimed to walk under the banner of Jesus. We have lived to reap the whirlwind, for today’s hostility toward the Jewish people has left the “Church” to stalk the world. The latest pack of synagogue-smearers lays no pretense to historical or sacred motives, any more than the Nazis did. It should not be forgotten that Hitler needed no slogan such as the medieval mob’s “Get the Christ-killers!” to perpetrate his grisly genocide.

When we ask why—apart from the ubiquitous possibility of Communist influence—men and women should so act in the year of our Lord 1960, we are forced back to the Scriptural understanding of the nature of man. There probably is no simple answer. The only real explanation of jungle rot is the jungle. The tragedy is that this jungle was once the Garden of Eden.

THE UNIMPEDED DRIFT TO THE DEFENSE-WELFARE STATE

On numerous occasions President Eisenhower has given lofty expression to America’s heritage of belief in God the Creator and in man’s dignity as a creature endowed with inalienable rights. But in a recent news conference on foreign affairs he voiced a turn of credo reflective of a widening mood in national circles today: “I believe in the United States’ power.…”

Taken in context of other public statements, this need not imply a saving trust in missiles, rockets and the atomic or hyrdogen bomb. The President stressed defensive use of military power (“I believe it is there, not to be used, but to make certain that the other fellow doesn’t use his.…”). Yet human perversity encourages the appraisal of defense power as a greater resource than spiritual and moral strength. Our growing reliance on defense structures in national education policy reflects this tendency.

Mere verbalizing about spirit and conscience is, of course, for the semantic swamps. What Americans need most is day-to-day heart for life’s durable concerns. From Mr. Eisenhower’s last year in office we covet enlarging dedication to the big issues in the world crisis. In Crusade in Europe he wrote: “We believe individual liberty, rooted in human dignity, is man’s greatest treasure.” Beyond this, if our historic traditions count, stands the divine sanction for human rights and responsibilities. General Eisenhower himself has testified how, at Normandy, when all human plans were made, the outcome was entrusted to God.

The President’s budget contains a surplus designated (happily if belatedly) to help lower the staggering national debt. But it also includes $3½ billion for welfare purposes (and social security dispersements will lift welfare payments above $15 billion). When elected in 1952, Mr. Eisenhower was interested in curtailing “welfare spending” and assailed the Truman “welfare state.” But Mr. Eisenhower’s new budget for the Department of Health, Education and Welfare runs one quarter of a billion dollars above what he asked for these purposes a year ago. Obviously neither of the established political parties can now be counted on to halt this ‘welfare” drift. Small wonder the cutting edge is dull on another of Mr. Eisenhower’s confident assumptions in Crusade in Europe: “We believe that men, given free expression of their will, prefer freedom and self-dependence to dictatorship and collectivism.”

“FATHER, OUR CHILDREN KEEP”

In speaking to parents of the responsibilities of parenthood in our day, I have known many fathers and mothers to throw up their hands in despair. Those who would rationalize their failures have transferred parental duties to outsiders—teachers, Scout leaders and the like—in the expectation that they will or ought to succeed where parents cannot.

The fact remains that God has placed into the hands of parents a privilege and a duty which only Christians can appreciate.

To pagans (and these may be cultured Americans) children are often little more than biological trophies (or accidents) of marriage. While there exists for them a degree of love which finds expression in providing for their physical needs, there is no sense of spiritual obligation. The outlook for such children is rather bleak.

Christians believe that children are a blessing from the Lord. With the Psalmist they say: “Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the womb is his reward. As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man; so are children of the youth. Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them: they shall not be ashamed, but they shall speak with the enemies in the gate” (Ps. 127:3, 4, 5).

What then is the duty of Christian parents? Are there scriptural guides which they may follow? Yes, there are certain specific leads of importance.

Concern

Christian parents should be deeply concerned about the spiritual welfare of their children. The patriarch Job exhibited concern and exercised a priestly ministry for his own family.

In Job 1:5 we read: “And it was so, when the days of their feasting were gone about, that Job sent and sanctified them, and rose up early in the morning, and offered burnt-offerings according to the number of them all: for Job said, It may be that my sons have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts. Thus did Job continually.”

In his day Job offered sacrifices for suspected breaches of the divine Law. Today we have the great eternal Sacrifice to whom we turn for protecting and cleansing power in the lives of those we love.

It is a lack of such concern that is in part responsible for the juvenile delinquency of our time. Adult delinquency spawns the same in its offspring. The tragic thing is that many of today’s parents are themselves victims of neglect by their fathers and mothers who gave scant heed to the things of the Spirit.

Convictions

Christian parenthood entails convictions that find expression in action. There are things to be believed and truths to be imparted.

Moses, speaking to the children of Israel in the sunset days of his life, said: “Set your hearts unto all the words which I testify among you this day, which ye shall command your children to observe to do, all the words of this law. For it is not a vain thing for you; because it is your life” (Deut. 32:46, 47a).

The ability of parents to command their children in Christian love and conviction is almost a lost art. We have passed through a generation of pernicious philosophy which has demanded that children be permitted to follow their own inclinations. Child psychologists are belatedly learning (it was in the Bible all the time) that children need to be commanded, guided, and disciplined for their own souls’ good. Many a spanked child has found in that encounter a sense of security and of being loved which has carried its blessings into mature life. To know that a parent cares enough to demand obedience and good behavior is itself sound child psychology.

Teaching

Not only should Christian parents learn the grace of commanding their children when necessary, but they also must acquire the ability of teaching them the things of God. The principle involved in the days of Moses has never been abrogated: “And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart: and thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up” (Deut. 6:6, 7).

Christian teaching involves example; no amount of lip profession can atone for a life inconsistent with professed belief. But an inescapable part of our obligation to our children is to teach them the truths of God’s Word. And children still thrill to hear stories of adventure, daring and divine deliverance that are found in the Bible.

Such teaching can become a fascinating game and the basis of life-transforming faith under the guidance and blessing of the Holy Spirit.

Decisions

There are times when Christian parents must make decisions for their children, even though this idea runs counter to some contemporary teaching.

Children and teen-agers are often confronted with problems that they cannot handle. Because of limited outlook and experience they desperately need the guidance of older and wiser minds. Therefore, at times a strong parental “Yes” or “No” can stem the headstrong impulses of youth as nothing else can.

It is neither fair nor right to leave to immature minds certain decisions which have to do with their immediate and eternal welfare. While the ultimate decision of eternal salvation through faith in Christ is made by no other than the individual himself, God does use the decisions of godly parents in starting children in the right direction.

Joshua, in his final exhortation to the people, urged them to make a clear-cut decision to follow God. But should they waver in their allegiance, he testified that “as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”

Young people need the stabilizing influence of parents who have Christian convictions and the courage to make them stick in their own homes.

Prayer

God has placed in believers’ hands a privilege and a power that will never be fully appreciated or understood this side of eternity.

Through the ages God has attended to the prayers of parents to protect, restrain, and bless their children.

Some of us can thank God for parents whose consistent lives and prayers blessed us during the formative years.

This ministry of prayer for our children is not one to be lightly exercised. It involves importunity—the claiming of God’s promises and faithfulness in our own lives. It may even mean hours of wakefulness on our part, yet the reward is that we may see precious young lives secure in the everlasting arms.

When Christian parents are themselves faithful, they can rest in full assurance of the faithfulness of God for their children.

L. NELSON BELL

COLLAGE

Thanks to Picasso, collage is now regarded as a fine art as well as a kindergarten pastime. Recently a New York Times critic objected to the technique of a Swiss collagist who wadded up pasted paper to resemble oil paint. It reminded him of a woman who achieved newsreel recognition through the unusual occupation of making pictures from pellets of chewing gum.

Ecclesiastical collage is a deserving subject for thesis research. Comprehensive surveys of the undersides of pews would reveal collage creations accumulated by generations of discreet chewers. Chemical analysis of deposits might indicate when Wrigley displaced peppermints as sermon solace.

Pulpit collage is even more fascinating. Few pulpits have parked chewing gum undercoatings, but sermon collaging is a diligently practiced art. To understand the popularity of outlandish scissors-and-paste theories of biblical criticism, we need only to scan the sermon notes of the more gullible divines.

There are three main types of homiletical collage: the anecdotal, the quotational, and the sampler. The anecdotal is the most common and the most varied. It presents a sermon collage of stories, usually from the minister’s own experience, real or imagined. The personality of the preacher determines whether the selection is humorous or lugubrious. Favorite classifications are: Personal Problems I Have Solved; My Summer Travels; Happy Memories of a Former Charge. A good anecdotal collage will not average above one minute of connective material between stories.

Quotational collages require either a wide acquaintance with literature or the Oxford Dictionary of Quotations. Long quotations from Shakespeare are favored; hymn quotations are excellent, particularly if the hymn has seven verses. This method has been falling into disuse, however, and is seldom found in churches with pew collages.

The sampler collage is a craftsmanlike assembly of paragraphs from various printed sermons that have some possible relation to the subject in hand. Fortunately there are manuals with material for this kind of thing. A firm artist’s hand is necessary to hold the seams together.

There are many ways of expressing your appreciation of artful pulpit collage. Attempts at source criticism will show your alert interest. You may murmur, “Your sermon was simply mosaic! Wasn’t that last issue of CHRISTIANITY TODAY stimulating?” Or you may whisper confidentially, “My cousin was a member of your church in Kankakee, and I was intrigued by your imaginative description of her neurosis.”

Your contribution to our gallery of pulpit collage will be appreciated.

EUTYCHUS

CHURCH TAX

Your editorial (Jan. 4 issue) concerning Dr. Eugene Carson Blake’s suggestion that churches should voluntarily pay taxes is an excellent statement of the many facets of this complex problem.

As I see it, the central issue is the question: What should the government subsidize?

Very few will disagree that government should subsidize national defense and police activity for this is the proper function of government. Beyond that, disagreement begins. When Dr. Blake’s suggestion is limited to houses of worship, many questions arise. What about the almost endless list of other government subsidies in our shored-up economy? If Dr. Blake were to demand the abolition of all subsidies including tax exemption for churches, libertarians would applaud his consistency.

However, since Dr. Blake does not appear to be willing to abolish public education, TVA, public housing and many of the other subsidies Americans have grown to accept, I am constrained to ask: “Why should a religious leader wish to give the churches a greater handicap than any other cultural institution in our subsidized economy?”

IRVING E. HOWARD

Christian Freedom Foundation

New York, N. Y.

In the eyes of the state the church is performing a function and is being paid for that function by being released from the obligation to pay real estate taxes and the like. It is when the churches cease to fulfill that function which the state demands that the religious organizations of this country should be taken to task and made to pay the tax.

JOHN H. FRYKMAN

Philadelphia, Pa.

Having wrestled with the taxation problem for many years as a vestryman and churchwarden, let me list some specific decisions of our vestry, out of which a philosophy can be read:

1. Some of our funds go to aid a struggling country church, whose members contribute time and labor to till the church’s small landholding, bringing in produce which is either sold or given away. We have felt that neither the value of the land nor the produce should be taxed.

2. We have vigorously supported the program of our Diocese to “Raise Our Sites,” designed to acquire 5-acre plots in areas of anticipated community development, before prices go out of sight. We do not consider this a land-grab—just prudent planning. Since these lands do not produce income, we do not think they should be taxed.

3. An opportunity arose recently to purchase a close-by walk-up apartment building, which would have saved us a lot of annual expense and also produce some welcome revenue. We refused to do it because we could no longer certify that we received no rentals.

4. Our dear ladies developed a plan to open an “opportunity shop” on the church premises, mainly for the redistribution of children’s clothing and accessories. Although the women pointed out many instances where this sort of praiseworthy activity is going on, we could not in conscience permit it and still claim tax exemption.

5. Whenever the women put on a bazaar or the like, we do collect and pay the local sales tax.

The emphasis which you have been giving to the church taxation matter is most timely and objectively intelligent.

JOHN H. DONOGHUE

Old St. John’s Protestant Episcopal

Washington, D. C.

The Church is here neither to serve the State financially nor to be served by the State financially. I am disturbed over the way Dr. Blake, Stated Clerk of our General Assembly, materializes the Church, “the Body of Christ,” in his article “Tax Exemption and the Churches” (August 3). To talk as he does about taxing the body of Christ appears to me to be the latest long step down the secularist road away from the perfectly unique spiritual reality of the Church. The average American church with its average of 200–300 members, these small divine communities, isn’t the “large and rich” institution Dr. Blake fears it is, especially where these evangelical congregations are sending away to mission fields all they can spare from their current expenses.

It is tragic that a churchman can be so obsessed with ‘this worldliness’ as to blur principle like this and thus plant such effective propaganda against God’s business as if His business were no different from the world’s. Fortunately, a Stated Clerk in our United Presbyterian form of government has never been regarded as a spokesman in himself for the Church on matters theological, moral or spiritual!

ROBERT W. YOUNG

North Presbyterian

Pittsburgh, Pa.

WHITHER BAPTISTS?

In reviewing Harrison’s book, Authority and Power in the Free Church Tradition (Dec. 21 issue), it is noted that the author “grants to separationists that ‘organized Christianity’ represents a ‘compromise of the Gospel.’” One could hardly expect a Baptist and an Episcopalian to agree on polity, but I wonder if those who consider all ecclesiastical organization to some extent a betrayal of the Gospel can legitimately quarrel with any historical developments of institutional leadership, such as that taking place in the Baptist fellowship.

STANLEY R. SINCLAIR

St. John’s Church

Roseville, Calif.

I cannot agree with everything you say, since I write from a somewhat different theological perspective, but I deeply appreciate your careful reading of the book and your general appraisal of it and share with you the hope that these issues will be discussed, whether or not this particular book is used as a foundation for the discussion.

PAUL HARRISON

Princeton University

Princeton, N. J.

The author has explicated what should be obvious to all concerned, namely that an exaggerated conception of local autonomy has hindered the Baptists from developing an orderly relationship to their agencies. The fact that power resides in the hands of bureaucratic experts is not the result of an evil conspiracy, but the inevitable outcome of a system which delegates responsibility without assigning and delimiting authority. Pure autonomy of local congregations not only frees them from external control, but it denies them the opportunity of providing controls which would make their agencies responsible to them.

In several places you suggest that Baptists can solve their problems by a return to their distinctive principles. There is no contradiction between a recovery of our heritage and the proposals offered by Harrison. The difficulty is that so many Baptists seem to think that slogans like “soul competence” and “local autonomy” represent classic Baptist doctrines, whereas they are only caricatures of Baptist views. Baptists do need a more adequate view of the Church than they commonly have today, and they can find guidance toward such concepts in early Baptist confessions of faith. Many early Baptists were much more “ecumenical” in their understanding of the Church than are some contemporary Baptists.

NORMAN H. MARING

Eastern Baptist Seminary

Philadelphia, Pa.

It is quite futile to suggest that the situation be corrected by a return to an insistence upon local autonomy, for it is an insistence upon local autonomy that has produced the present concentration of irresponsible power within both the American Baptist Convention and the Southern Baptist Convention.

Actually “local autonomy” is a twentieth century term rather than a New Testament term. The idea of local autonomy among Baptists, to lie sure, antedates the twentieth century. It was partly the product of the Lockean philosophy of individualism and it was partly the product of the agitation of some nineteenth century Baptists who seized upon it as an ideal instrument by which denominational societies could be controlled by a denominational elite. It is hardly a New Testament concept nor a distinctly Baptist concept. Indeed, the old-line Baptists opposed it as an innovation.

What the early Baptists emphasized was the fact that a local church was fully the church, and fully equipped to minister Christ in the place where it was set without having need to derive either authority or power from any bishop, synod, or presbytery. This they believed to be the New Testament concept of the church. But this did not mean that these churches should remain isolated from one another. Nor did it mean that the joint concerns of local churches should not be carried on jointly in an ordinary fashion, with clear lines of authority by which those who administered the joint activities could be held responsible by the local churches.

WINTHROP S. HUDSON

Colgate-Rochester Divinity School

Rochester, N. Y.

CRITIC OF CHALCEDON

“Have We Outmoded Chalcedon?” (Dec. 7 issue). My own answer to this question is: Yes, long ago—insofar as concerns the authenticating by that council of the heathenish, yes, blasphemous epithet “Theotokos” for Mary, mother of Jesus.

MEYER MARCUS

New York, N.Y.

WORLD RELIGIONS

Your [Dec. 21] issue containing a symposium on Christianity and World Religions was generally very good.… It seems to me unfortunate, however, that in the article on Judaism no mention was made of the Hasidim or of Martin Buber, which represent a current of faith within Judaism that I think is much akin to the spirit of Protestantism within Christianity, and something from Which many Protestants could refresh their faith—or in any case an optimum point of contact for interfaith dialogue. It is all too easy for us to speak of Judaism as legalistic and Christianity as liberated from legalism, when in point of fact much of Christianity suffers from legalism and there are such currents as Hasidism alive within Judaism. This is not to equate Judaism and Christianity at all, but to indicate that the superiority of the Christian faith is not something to be lightly established by comparing Christianity at its best with merely normative Judaism.

WILLIAM ROBERT MILLER

Managing Editor

Fellowship

Nyack, N. Y.

Thank you for the symposium.… This comprehensive presentation helps the readers understand more clearly that the church, at its heart, is mission, and that Christianity is challenged today by powerful, dynamic faiths. Man needs a renewed dedication to proclaiming God’s Word—Christ—unto the far corners of the globe.

JAMES W. CARTY, JR.

Bethany College

Bethany, W. Va.

It is now 70 years since the University of Pennsylvania sent out the first American archaeological expedition to the Near East. Since that day American scholars have played a prominent role in exploration and excavation; and some of the greatest finds are now to be found in the Museum of the University. Among living American scholars who have engaged in such work, Dr. W. F. Albright, recently retired from Johns Hopkins because of age, occupies a pre-eminent place. Among the younger men, few if any have accomplished more in the wide field of archaeology than Dr. Cyrus H. Gordon, an alumnus of the University of Pennsylvania, now professor of Near Eastern Studies at Brandeis University. Like Albright, Gordon is a remarkable linguist. At Dropsie College he was professor of Assyriology and Egyptology. But for a number of years his special interest has been Ugaritic, which many scholars call Canaanite. He published an authoritative edition of the mythological texts discovered at Ugarit (not far from ancient Antioch) about 30 years ago, as well as the first extensive grammar of this new Semitic dialect. He has also interested himself in the Minoan civilization of ancient Crete and Greece, and he has made what is regarded as a promising start in the decipherment of the so-called Linear A script, which he believes reveals a Semitic language related to the Accadian—a very interesting and even surprising discovery since Michael Ventris a few years earlier had proved that the later Linear B script represents an early form of Greek.

THE REVOLT AGAINST WELLHAUSEN

We have said enough to indicate the remarkable versatility of Dr. Gordon. No wonder, then, that he should also be a decidedly independent thinker. In an article in CHRISTIANITY TODAY (NOV. 23 issue), Dr. Gordon challenges the widely accepted Wellhausen hypothesis. He is willing to recognize various sources in the Pentateuch, but he regards the time-honored JEDP analysis as thoroughly inadequate and discredited. He rejects it largely on the ground of archaeological evidence.

It may be well to note that Dr. Gordon is by no means the first Old Testament scholar to raise his voice against this regnant hypothesis. Conservative scholars, Jewish as well as Christian (Dr. Gordon is a Jew), have never accepted it. In recent years it has found opponents even in what may be called “critical” and “scientific” circles. Twenty years ago, Dornseiff, professor at Greifswald, published a series of articles in the Zeitschrift für alttestamentliche Wissenschaft, a journal founded by the distinguished higher critic Bernhard Stade, in which he boldly declared that no great body of literature such as the Pentateuch was ever put together by such a “scissors and paste method” as the critics claim for the Pentateuch. Pedersen of Copenhagen had already in his Israel declared his independence of the Wellhausen theory; and this attitude has been characteristic of the Scandinavian or Uppsala school ever since. Meek of Toronto, Robinson of Manchester, and others have taken a more or less similar attitude. Among eminent Jewish scholars we may mention Benno Jacobs.

ONE THEORY FOR ANOTHER?

In 1946 in reviewing the last two parts of Pedersen’s Israel, Professor Rowley of Manchester made the following comment: “The Graf-Kuenen-Wellhausen view is not a dogma, but a scientific hypothesis, which can be surrendered without tears as a more satisfactory one enters the field. But it must be a more satisfactory one, and not merely a new one.” A number of more or less new hypotheses have in fact been proposed. The principal ones are represented by the Form Critical School, the Myth and Religion School, the Traditio-historical or Uppsala School. While differing in some respects they have a common feature: they all reject the early date and the full trustworthiness of the Pentateuch. Despite the fact that it has now been proved conclusively that writing, even alphabetic writing and several forms of it, was known as early as the time of Moses, they insist that the Pentateuch is late and that it and all the Old Testament books relating to the early period were handed down in oral tradition and were not, except for a few poems, written down until the time of David; some would say, until the time of the Babylonian Captivity.

In this connection a curious fact is to be noted. On the one hand these scholars insist that in the Orient oral tradition was and still is wonderfully dependable, even more so than written documents. On the other hand they are equally insistent that these documents being late are untrustworthy and that the narratives they contain have been so molded and modified in the course of tradition that it becomes the task of the modern critic to free them of the later accretions and get back to the core or kernel, if this is possible. This means in the last analysis that it is up to each critic to decide for himself just how much of the Pentateuch is really dependable and how much is not. Since Dr. Gordon is vigorously opposed to the Wellhausen hypothesis, we may well ask what his attitude is to this important question.

For an answer we turn to his recent book, The World of the Old Testament (1958). Dr. Gordon tells us that down to the tenth century B.C. we are dealing with the “epic precursors” of history (p. 144). He tells us further: “To what extent the patriarchal institutions are those of actual life, and to what extent they reflect epic tradition, can now be outlined by the Nuzu (for real society) and Ugaritic (for epic) parallels respectively” (p. 119). As an example of what this means, we may cite the case of the name “Isaac.” Dr. Gordon recognizes that the name, which means “laughs,” is explained in the Bible as due to the laughter of Abraham or Sarah because the birth of a child “seemed ridiculous.” But he declares that it is more probable that it refers to the laughter of God, because “God (expressed or understood) figures frequently in Hebrew names” and also because “the Ugaritic texts refer to the good-natured laughter of El.” So for this and the added reason that “in the Homeric poems the laughter of the gods is jovial,” he feels justified in holding that “God laughs” makes Isaac “a congenial personal name” (p. 119).

Commenting on Genesis 25:25, which states that Esau was born “red all over like a hairy garment,” he tells us that this “has a purpose”: “Frequently in Cretan and Egyptian art, the men (but not the women) are colored reddish brown. In the [Ugaritic] Legend of Kret, the hero is told by El to redden himself to become ceremonially fit. Obviously such was the color that males assumed for heroic or ceremonial purposes. Esau’s being born red presaged his heroic stature. The only other person in the Bible who was of that color by nature is David (1 Sam. 16:12): significantly the hero par excellence” (p. 125).

Here the implication is clearly that Esau was not born “red all over,” but is so described to make him of “heroic size.” And while David is said to have been “of that color by nature,” the fact that Gordon mentions him in this connection seems clearly to imply that the Ugaritic explanation of Esau holds good also of David, since even in narratives dealing with the time of David we are still dealing with epic literature for which we are to find explanatory parallels in Ugaritic. Dr. Gordon assures us that “The historical kernel of the patriarchal narratives is no more to be doubted than the historical kernel of the Trojan War in the Iliad.” But if this historical kernel is to be determined not by what the Bible says but by the imperfectly understood customs and traditions of the Canaanites, if Ugaritic is to be the standard for determining the amount of historical accuracy of the patriarchal narratives, are we really much better off than under Wellhausen?

RULES FOR BIBLE INTERPRETATION

When the writer was a theological student, his professor of Old Testament exegesis at Princeton Seminary, Dr. John D. Davis, was accustomed to give his students three rules for interpreting the Bible. They may be stated thus: (1) Exhaust the possibilities, that is, get all the light you can from every available source; (2) Sift the possibilities; (3) Distinguish carefully between possibility, probability, and proof. They were good rules 50 years ago. They are equally good today. Tested by them we submit that Dr. Gordon’s interpretation of the name Isaac and of Esau’s redness is not proved; it is not probable; it becomes possible only if the biblical narrative is regarded as a garbled and inaccurate account of the actual facts.

Coming down to the time of Moses and the giving of the Law, with which four of the five books of the Pentateuch are concerned, we observe that in his treatment of the career of Moses, Gordon makes no mention of the Law, except to claim that the Decalogue teaches only henotheism not monotheism (p. 145). He is not willing to treat Deuteronomy as a forgery. He insists that laws and codes were usually forgotten or ignored. So he tells us: “The significance of 621 is not that a great forgery was foisted on a gullible world. The significance of that date is that for the first time in human history a written document was actually adopted for all time and without interruption as the permanent guide of a nation” (pp. 247 f.). Does this mean that the account of the giving of the Law at Mount Sinai is simply “epic” and is not to be taken at its face value? As to the Book of the Law discovered by Hilkiah, Gordon is not certain as to its extent, but thinks “one of the most applicable parts” is Deuteronomy 17 and 18. If so, in what respect is Dr. Gordon’s hypothesis an improvement on that of Wellhausen? The most regrettable feature of the emphasis now placed on Ugaritic (Canaanite) by many archaelogists and biblical scholars is that their intense interest in archaeology and in comparative religion, with its emphasis on similarities, has blinded them to a dangerous degree to the utter difference between the religion of Israel and that of the Canaanites. The Old Testament writers knew this cult at first hand and they denounced the practices of the Canaanites as “abominations.” Their estimate has been fully confirmed by the excavations. Dr. Albright, realizing this, has said: “The sedentary culture which they [the Israelites] 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” (Archaeology and the Religion of Israel, p. 94).

The mythological texts from Ugarit illustrate this statement to the full. They reveal a polytheism which is gross, grotesque, and vile. Its worst feature is bestiality, which it affirms even of the gods themselves. The Law of Moses took cognizance of this sin and punished it with death (Exod. 22:19; Lev. 18:24). Dr. Gordon points out that “the Hebrew is to a great extent a conscious reaction against the Canaanite milieu.” He adds: “This is illustrated by the fact that bestiality far from being looked at askance in Ugarit, was practiced by the adored Baal, who copulates with a heifer as is celebrated in the religious texts.… If it be argued that Baal assumes the shape of a bull for the act, the same cannot be said for his priests who re-enacted his mythological career cultically” (p. 99). As to this he tells us “Apparently no moral issue was made of bestiality in Ugarit. Or, to state it differently, bestiality had no significance in Ugaritic criminology. In Israel (whose attitude we inherit), however, it was a heinous crime” (Ibid). This serves, we think, to show in a most striking way the utter depravity of the religion of the Canaanites.

Elsewhere in speaking of that “perfect world” in Isaiah 11, when “all the beasts shall live together in peace with a little child leading,” he tells us: “This reconciliation of man and beast fits into a pervasive aspect of the Bible World, where beasts were accorded almost human status.” He supports this statement by referring to such passages as Genesis 9:9; 9:5; Exodus 20:10; Jonah 3:7–8; 4:11; Exodus 11:5; 12:29, and adds the following: “While the Hebrews forbade carnal relations between man and any kind of animal, the Hittite Code permits human copulation with certain animals but not with others. Thus some of the people in the Bible World felt varying degrees of kinship with the different animal species; some degrees ruled out but others permitted carnal relations with animals; much as our laws of incest spell out the permitted and forbidden degrees in terms of human kinship” (p. 242).

That the beautiful picture of the Messiah’s reign in Isaiah and such other biblical passages as the ones mentioned should be appealed to as in any sense suggesting, not to say excusing or justifying, the abominations of the Canaanites is an amazing illustration of the lengths to which able archaeologists and students of comparative religion are prepared to go in seeking parallels between the religion of Israel and the practices, even the abominations, of the Canaanites and the other nations which were Israel’s neighbors.

We would not have it thought for a moment that in offering these severe criticisms of Dr. Gordon’s position we are attacking him personally or suggesting that he approves or condones such abominations as have been mentioned. We think of him as a very able representative of a theory or hypothesis widely accepted by archaeologists and other scientists today, according to which the solution of the problem of the origin, nature, and development of the religion of Israel is to be found in relating it to and deriving it from the ethnic religions by a process which stresses superficial similarities and minimizes or ignores basic and essential differences.

Dr. Gordon is opposed to the Wellhausen hypothesis. He believes that by means of archaeology and comparative study he can furnish what Dr. Rowley demands—a new hypothesis which is “more satisfactory” than the old. We submit that the more satisfactory hypothesis, in fact the only really satisfactory one, is not to be sought among the Canaanites or other ancient peoples but where the Psalmist found it when after recounting the blessings of God which are shared by man and beast, he cries out: “He showeth his word unto Jacob, his statutes and his judgments unto Israel. He hath not dealt so with any nation; and as for his judgments, they have not known them.”

The Shade of Lincoln Walks

The shade of Lincoln upon these streets

Looking with longing at the passing men;

He yearns to speak something to those he meets,

For here he feels the ancient pain again.

Fear plants a furrow on their countenance,

Dread casts a darkness on their tortured path:

They walk in fetters who were born to dance,

Languish in bondage who were meant to laugh.

KENDIG BRUBAKER CULLY

Jacob J. Vellenga served on the National Board of Administration of the United Presbyterian Church from 1948–54. Since 1958 he has served the United Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. as Associate Executive. He holds the A.B. degree from Monmouth College, the B.D. from Pittsburgh-Xenia Seminary, Th.D. from Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, and D.D. from Monmouth College, Illinois.

Many parish ministers seem to have ill will toward the full-time clerical leaders of the churches, that is, to men in various executive positions. This writer respects church leaders—full-time secretaries of church boards, presidents, bishops, editors, seminary professors, superintendents, and so on. All these executives are under constant criticism. Criticism is frequently merciless. This is no doubt because the ministry is a profession that, perhaps above all others, is individualistic; each man thinks that he and his opinion are in a special class almost sacred—because he is working for Christ.

My contacts are largely limited to my own denomination through various connections with committees, serving as a delegate to area, state, and national conventions, through personal acquaintance with many executives, and some contacts with other denominations through local councils of churches.

Too often there is no appreciation of what executives are doing. There is instead a strong tendency to blame them, even for the things over which they have no control, or for wrongs that have existed for years and which no one person can possibly correct.

It is a common saying among ministers that if a man aspires to an executive position in the church he must be beside himself. To be sure, in the church the office should seek out the man rather than the man of ambition seek out the office. The church ideal is service.

Church executives are mostly in a class by themselves, because theirs is a lonesome existence. In trying to get along acceptably with a large number of churches and ministers, they unwittingly become aloof.

Remember that these leaders are men, and that they were men even before they became executives. They have, therefore, all the weaknesses of human beings—they are sinful, make mistakes, are not omniscient nor omnipresent.

Executives must face tremendous jealousy all along the line—from those near the top who might have been selected for the same position to clergy who hold humble positions—not to mention the laity, “leading” and otherwise. Then there is jealousy issuing from fellow-executives, that is, men in equal positions or similar positions on other boards, and so forth.

Awareness of criticism and jeolousy among the clergy came as something of a shock to me, because I have always had a certain measure of diffidence and respect toward those in authority and honor, and was inclined to place such men upon a pedestal. With the passing of years, however, I have come to the realization that criticism and jealousy are basic to human nature, and also that clergymen are quite human.

From the standpoint of these executives, many things need to be said. Most executives (perhaps there are a few exceptions) have left behind them large, prominent, well-established churches where they were receiving good or at least better than average salaries. They reached those large churches in most cases through hard work, based on an adequate training over a period of years. Of course, some came to their positions through influence, but the number of such instances is not large. Moreover, even when influence does get a man a particular call, he does not hold it long if he cannot fulfill the duties required.

To be sure, the executive is likely to receive a higher salary than he would in his parish church, or at least higher than the average for active pastors. But men in such positions have high expenses. It is the common experience of anyone that the more he gets the more he spends. That has been my own experience with the passing years. My salary is much more than it was in the depression, but we are no better off in the long run.

Many of the men in executive positions left the pastorate reluctantly. They knew fully what they were leaving, but they knew also what they were entering. At least in the pastorate, with all its difficulties, there is still the intimate contact with people. There is the Christian joy of preaching God’s Word to them, of ministering eternal truths to them in home and hospital, and in the crises of life. One misses these things in executive work, for many contacts are superficial.

Executives, of course, do get a certain amount of publicity, often on a national scale, but publicity does not mean too much, as the newest fledgling among pastors can testify. In a year or two every pastor has had enough publicity to tickle his vanity, and he knows how little it advances the kingdom of God, and that it does not necessarily indicate that one is making progress in serving Jesus Christ.

One great problem of executives is obtaining cooperation. Committees that fail to function; assigned tasks and duties that are not fulfilled; letters which attract no answers, or are answered inadequately or too late; vital questionnaires that are ignored—these are the result of noncooperation. Yet those failing to cooperate are often the ones who complain the most.

TOP LEVEL ENGAGEMENTS

Leaders have many engagements and they must keep fresh for each one. They can never give their constituents the idea that they are not fully alert. None can acknowledge that he is tired. Many executives must travel a good deal. This may be interesting for pleasure, but it becomes monotonous after awhile. Results are that one gets insufficient and improper rest, misses a full home life (for which even the Protestant parsonage is notorious), and the constant change in food and water is not conducive to good health.

In conversation with one of the best-known church executives of our times, he once related, without particular concern, his various engagements. He traveled by air, car, and train, back and forth constantly in the United States and Canada, and often making appointments by small margins.

Here are two letters, dated two years apart, in which this same denominational leader refuses in a tactful manner to speak at a week-end retreat for men:

• Enthusiasm and persistence like yours ought to win the day. My own conviction that laymen’s retreats are a constructive, good influence is strongly in your favor too. In view of both factors, I hardly have the heart to say no.

However, as I wrote to another minister when he sent me the first invitation to next fall’s retreat last month, I am finally taking the good advice of my friends and trying to reduce my appointment schedule to manageable size. Everybody agrees that I ought to do so, of course. The only place where every single one of my friends demurs is about his own request! His isn’t the one that makes the overload, he’s quite sure. The worst part is that I half agree that he’s right. The only trouble is that the end of it would mean the end of me too.

Your words have a seductive sound when you picture the whole affair as delightful relaxation but, honestly, the climbing on a train, then chugging to the lake, and finally giving perhaps three addresses in a day and a half isn’t a perfect vacation. I am sorry to confess it but if I ever did have a day and a half for loafing, my first choice would be at the home I seldom see.

Please do assure all your colleagues that it would be an honest joy to be with you and that I am reluctant to disappoint such good friends.

• Even the Unjust Judge gave in finally. It is a little disgraceful for an alleged Christian to be even stubborner than he was, isn’t it? I hope that the Lord and you will keep on thinking kindly of me even though I am just unable to accept your invitation for September.

I do not feel yet that I am coming to the end of my rope as I look over my appointment schedule but I do feel the rope tightening around my neck. I just cannot increase my load early next fall without tempting Providence.

I regret that I ever have to decline any service at all that I am asked to give anywhere in the Kingdom. Believe me, I never do so except in an effort to be a wise steward of the energy which the Lord has given me.

Please don’t think too harshly of me. I know you won’t. You are too understanding a friend for that.

It is difficult to know just how strong to make this thesis. It may even be overstated. It is hoped that no one will get the idea that this is a blanket endorsement of everything church executives do. Every minister knows of actions of these men that have been wrong.

It may be acknowledged that there is a certain small percentage of “swivel-chair” executives. Any man who may be selected for an executive position in the church can find plenty to do, and can give the appearance of being extremely busy by way of sending out circular letters, attending committee meetings and conferences, filling speaking engagements, and writing articles and books. The very volume of mail being sent out by an executive can be a means of perpetuating a bureaucratic official in his position. Program and promotion become more important than the Church and Jesus Christ. It is easy to give the impression that one is really busy by employing clerks who in turn help to cultivate the idea that their “boss” is doing an indispensable work. Furthermore, it is easy to find various types of work which ought to be done in the fields of promotion, administration, welfare, education, and missions, all requiring a leader to organize and publicize the work. More activity on the part of an executive may not indicate that he is fulfilling a necessary position.

Even though the executive may repeatedly state that he is above all else a “servant” of Christ and His Church, in the final analysis one feels that some executives have the idea that ministers and their congregations exist in order to give the executive an opportunity not merely to work but to exercise dominion, even as a few pastors give this impression in their relationship to their congregations and members.

But church executives have a large assignment on their hands. Without question, the majority of them are carrying out their duties in a highly conscientious manner. On the part of their constituents, they ought to be obtaining a greater degree of cooperation, and to express appreciation to them more frequently.

Jacob J. Vellenga served on the National Board of Administration of the United Presbyterian Church from 1948–54. Since 1958 he has served the United Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. as Associate Executive. He holds the A.B. degree from Monmouth College, the B.D. from Pittsburgh-Xenia Seminary, Th.D. from Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, and D.D. from Monmouth College, Illinois.

“Liberty seems to demand,” wrote James Madison in The Federalist, “… not only that all power should be derived from the people, but that those entrusted with it should be kept in dependence on the people, by a short duration of their appointments.”

The practice of limiting terms of office in the churches is widely applied to laymen. For them indefinite office holding is generally forbidden. But the tenure of the clergy has been assumed to be otherwise. This arrangement has worked fairly well for local pastors since they labor in close association with the members of their congregations who actually are the source of final power over tenure of the clergy. Inefficient or arbitrary action at the local level has been quickly checked. But at the national level such control is much more difficult and consequently more rare. Top administrators—bishops, executive secretaries, presidents, and ministers who run the denominational machinery—have usually served despite awkwardness or near heart failure until they retired of old age. In practice the average tenure of national executives is about 20 years.

Experience indicates clearly that the losses resulting from such long terms in office far outweigh the gains. That is, administrational know-how is more than balanced by losses in perspective and sensitivity. The average high executive after a decade in office loses touch with what is going on at grass roots. More and more he turns for counsel to the denominational elite, and uninfluential people come to learn that they get little consideration from them. Moreover, men in places of leadership vary in the extent to which their energy and spirit remain unimpaired through advancing years.

An obvious way for denominations to mitigate the risks of over-long office terms is to require denominational leaders to stand for re-election and then to limit them to two terms of reasonable length, say eight years in all, a limit that was recently placed on the tenure permitted the President of the United States.

Members of some denominations, when confronted by this proposal, affirm that the constitutional framework already exists in their church for the proper control of office terms, since officials must stand for periodic re-election by national assemblies. This is true for the reason that the machinery does exist; but it is seldom really used. In other words, it does not elect but rubber-stamps the selections of a nominating committee chosen by insiders. The mores of conducting business at some national assemblies are such that actual authority is usually exercised elsewhere. The majority in these assemblies is commonly made up of persons who do not know the ropes and are attending for the first or second time, who know that free debate would lengthen the time the assembly must sit to unmanageable and expensive lengths, who are intimidated by the onward rush of an overfull agenda, and who are bewildered by the complexity of the problems on which they are asked to vote. Such a situation does not permit wise deliberation, and consequently these assemblies generally give the power of actual decision to committees or boards. Frequently the membership on these committees is influenced by the executives themselves. One of these committees, a nominating or personnel committee, often acts as the real agency for selecting denominational leaders, and it determines their tenure as well as chooses the members of other denominational committees and boards. The assembly secretary is sometimes instructed to cast one ballot for the entire slate of the nominating committee when no additional nominations have come from the floor. The techniques of genuine elections—preassembly campaigns, nominating speeches, and vote soliciting in the foyer—constitute bad form in many denominations. Thus a process which has the appearance of periodic elections can be turned into a process that results in indefinite tenure.

The same effect can follow from the more genuine elections held by other denominational assemblies. Once elected, officials in these denominations are expected to serve for the rest of their active careers.

The power of in-groups increases as a result of this situation. Government is a process whereby some people make decisions for other people. The ever-present danger, of course, is that those in power will not give equitable weight to the concerns of those out of power. Groups in power for a long time develop techniques for getting work done and for speeding up the democratic process; but all too often they tend to brush aside groups not in power, especially those that have never been in power. The opinions given weight, therefore, seem usually to come from the few.

That denominational leaders are not merely executives but also legislators heightens the urgency of the problem. So great is the prestige of their offices that they frequently determine policy, and then there is little division of governmental powers. This situation must probably continue, the realities of denominational life being what they are. The time, information, and money necessary to make denominational statesmen out of the delegates to the average national assembly will undoubtedly not be available in the near future. Consequently, the role of legislator as well as executive must in all likelihood continue to be carried in most of the denominations by top officials.

It stands to reason that such a combination of powers should not be held by any man indefinitely, however able and consecrated he may be. Ministers in high office have the same kind of human nature as the rest of us have. Because the use of power runs naturally to the abuse of power, administrators can come into their positions with deep humility only to fail after a few years to distinguish its dignity from their own. Forthright opposition to their policies is sometimes labeled obstructionism, or even called going contrary to the leadership of the Holy Spirit.

A proposal to decrease markedly the policy-making powers of the denominational executives would be an obvious reaction to the situation. Such action would probably be a mistake were not a denomination to possess a legislative assembly that truly assumed responsibility for policy making.

Another proposal would be a scheme of choosing for high office men who are within a decade or less of retirement. If it were generally adopted, this plan would deny leadership to younger men and would saddle the leader with the knowledge that he was chosen for his availability as well as for his ability.

Perhaps a better scheme would be that executives be chosen for a defined term, and be permitted to succeed themselves but once. In fairness such a scheme ought not to apply to those in office at the time it goes into effect. And for the sake of efficiency, the scheme ought not apply to nonpolicy-making technicians, or editors, research workers, and financial experts.

The present pertinence of this proposal for denominations now revising constitutions or adopting new ones is surely evident. The Proposed Constitution for the United Church, for example, provides that, “No officer of the Church shall be elected or re-elected after attaining the age of 65 years.” A better reading would be, “An officer may succeed himself but once.”

Jacob J. Vellenga served on the National Board of Administration of the United Presbyterian Church from 1948–54. Since 1958 he has served the United Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. as Associate Executive. He holds the A.B. degree from Monmouth College, the B.D. from Pittsburgh-Xenia Seminary, Th.D. from Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, and D.D. from Monmouth College, Illinois.

During the past 28 years 3,616 persons have been executed in the United States—3,136 for murder, 418 for rape, and 62 for other offenses such as treason, espionage, kidnapping, and bank robbery. Nine states (Alaska, Delaware, Hawaii, Maine, Michigan, Minnesota, North Dakota, Rhode Island, and Wisconsin) have set aside capital punishment, but all the others along with the District of Columbia impose the death penalty (including eight states which in time past abolished capital punishment only to reinstate it).

Churchmen have become increasingly vocal over the issue. One group contends that capital punishment is immoral, another argues that the death penalty for murder is not only permissible but mandatory because civil government is under divine obligation.

WhenCHRISTIANITY TODAYpublished Jacob J. Vellenga’s article “Is Capital Punishment Wrong?” (see Oct. 12, 1959, issue for his answer: an emphatic no!), streams of letters pro and con poured into our editorial offices from high places and low. Limitations of space precluded publication of all but representative letters in this spirited exchange. Much of this subsequent debate turned on modern sociological and penal theories rather than on the biblical witness.

Along with this flow of correspondence came a goodly number of essays. Two of these have been selected for publication inCHRISTIANITY TODAYbecause in dissenting from Dr. Vellenga’s view they propose a biblical basis for opposition to capital punishment. Ranged against Dr. Vellenga (from 1948–54 a member of the National Board of Administration of the United Presbyterian Church) are Dr. Charles S. Milligan of the Department of Christian Ethics, Iliff School of Theology in Denver, and Dr. John Howard Yoder who, since completion of doctoral studies at the University of Basel, has been instructor in theology at Associated Mennonite Biblical Seminaries at Elkhart, Indiana. In closing this discussion for the time being, except perhaps for brief letters to the editor, CHRISTIANITY TODAYhas requested one of its contributing editors, Dr. Gordon H. Clark, head of the Department of Philosophy at Butler University, to comment on the series and to reply with an eye alert to the biblical witness to which the various participants in this dialogue appeal.—ED.

1. John Howard Yoder

Recent years have witnessed a strong tendency away from the death penalty in the United States. In 1958 Delaware abolished the legislative provisions for capital punishment; with the statehood of Alaska, the Union now has eight states whose judicial systems operate without recourse to the ultimate sanction. But, in addition, nine states, though possessing enabling legislation, have executed no one in the last five years, and six have had no executions for 10 or more years. Thus in effect 17 states are now administering civil order without taking the lives of the guilty. Similarly, Great Britain took action in 1958 which practically abolishes the death penalty, and similar action has received serious study by a Royal Commission in Canada.

These facts must be kept in mind if we attempt an accurate evaluation of growing American opinion—both the expert opinion of penologists and the human interest opinion of the general public—in extending legal abolition of the death penalty. These are not philosophically-motivated idealists attempting to impose on society an unrealistic renunciation of legal sanctions, and thereby lower the standards of justice, excuse crime, or gloss over the wrongness of wrong. Rather, the concern of a few Christians for the sacredness of life has coincided with the realism of prison administrators, criminal lawyers, and sociologists who desire, in the interest of the “common good,” a more efficient way of dealing with criminals. The existence of the death penalty makes for a far more expensive administration of justice, since it involves unending chains of appeals on behalf even of the most patently guilty who hope to “squeeze through” on a technicality. It makes for greater inequality in the administration of justice, since anyone with enough friends or money can “beat the rap” one way or another. Warden Lewis E. Lawes, long-time administrator of Sing Sing Prison, estimates that only 2 per cent of those convicted of capital crimes are actually executed—and these are not the most guilty, not the most willful and wanton, but the poor, the friendless, who are without means of making an insanity plea, without enough “inside” knowledge of the underworld to save their lives by turning state’s evidence. The statistically unequivocal experience of states and nations without the death penalty, and also our growing contemporary psychological understanding of the motivation of murderers, further make it clear that the death penalty has no deterrent effect on potential murderers.

Some of the moral aspects of the practice of killing criminals have also contributed to the current reappraisal. Capital punishment presupposes an infallible judicial procedure, lest it kill the innocent rather than the guilty. Yet no judicial procedure is flawless. The number of condemnations of innocent persons, being the result of mistaken identification, misinterpreted circumstantial evidence, emotional susceptibilities of juries, and other understandable “human factors,” is estimated to run as high as 5 per cent. We should not condemn our judicial systems for the fact that errors happen, but the moral justification of the death penalty is singularly weakened if the factor of human error is faced. Similarly, our growing understanding of psychological processes discloses that the problem of “accountability” is much more complex than was once supposed when one or two questions were thought adequate to establish a culprit’s “sanity” and thereby his responsibility. Likewise we are now less self-righteous about society’s share of the “blame” for crime. If society—family, neighborhood, and nation—deprives a child of affection, teaches him vice through the world’s largest pornographic industry, glorifies violence through the entertainment industry, glorifies crime through the wealth it gives its gangster kings, and shuts off legitimate avenues of growth and self-expression through substandard schooling and ethnic segregation, and then this child becomes a teen-ager armed with a knife and excited by alcohol and other narcotics which society permits to be sold to him, is not society’s casting the blame on the teen-ager a disgraceful search for a scapegoat? Such insistence on “personal responsibility” may well be a mere screen for society’s refusal to face its moral decadence in repentant honesty.

These observations are not humanistic theories or vague utopian philosophies; they are realities to which God’s Word speaks. The evangelical battlecry, sola scriptura, does not mean that the Bible is a substitute for the facts but rather that it is the only authoritative source of light to throw on the facts. To turn piously to “the Bible alone” before having faced the problems for which answers from Scripture are needed is to make oneself blind to one’s own extra-scriptural assumptions. Understandably but regrettably, some conservative evangelicals are tempted toward this kind of obscurantism, and go on treating the issue of capital punishment as if the advocates of abolition were challenging civil government, whitewashing crime, and tearing the Sixth Commandment from its context.

As we seek the light of God’s Word, the first issue we must face is one of hermeneutics: how are we to understand the relationship between the Old and New Testaments? Does Christ simply complete the Old Testament so that a proper Christian understanding of any problem begins with Moses? Or does he tell us how to read the Old Testament so that a proper approach to the Bible begins with Christ himself? In spite of theoretical affirmations of the centrality of Christ and the finality of the New Covenant, the history of Protestant and Catholic thought on the question of civil order has been overwhelmingly dominated by approaches which consider the Old, not the New, Testament to be fundamental. In effect, this does not mean even that the two Testaments are placed on the same level; for the Old speaks directly to the issue of civil order, and the New speaks to it only obliquely, with the result that in application the Old is placed above the New. This is the real hermeneutic significance of the position of most of those who try to justify the death penalty by “what Scripture actually teaches.”

The first shortcoming of this approach is that none of those who advocate it are interested in following it consistently. It is cited where it favors the argument, and dropped where inconvenient. To apply consistently this approach to Old Testament prescriptions concerning the social order would mean that the death penalty should also apply to animals (Gen. 9:5; Exod. 21:28), to witches, and to adulterers. When it is exacted for manslaughter, the executioner should be the victim’s next of kin; there need be no due process of law, but there should be cities of refuge for the innocent and those guilty of unintentional killing. And while trying in this way to “take the Bible seriously,” the disputant can offer no logical reason for respecting less its prescriptions on the sabbath, the cure for leprosy, slavery, and the economic order.

The manifest impossibility of honestly applying such an hermeneutic is not the primary argument against it, however. The fact is that at two significant points the New Testament directly modifies the teaching of the Old. One of these points is the spiritual understanding of what it means to be God’s people. In the Old Testament, at least in the period to which the civil regulations of the Pentateuch relate, the ethnic, civil, geographic, and religious communities were one. The New Covenant changed this. Being a son of Abraham is a matter of faith, not of linear descent (Matt. 3:9; John 8:39 ff.; Gal. 3:9), and the civil order is in the hands of pagan authorities. All of this so shifts the context of social-ethical thought that a simple transposition of Old Testament prescriptions would be illegitimate even if it were possible.

There is, nonetheless a stronger reason for challenging the finality of Israelite law. The ultimate basis of the death penalty in Genesis 9 was not civil, that is, in the narrow modern sense of serving the maintenance of order in society or the punishment of the guilty. It was expiatory. Killing men and consuming the blood of animals are forbidden in the same sentence, for creaturely life belongs in the realm of the “holy” (in the original cultic sense of the term). Life is God’s peculiar possession which man may not profane with impunity. Thus the function of capital punishment in Genesis 9 is not the defense of society but the expiation of an offense against the Image of God. If this be the case then—and both exegetical and anthropological studies confirm strongly that it is—then the central events of the New Testament, the Cross and the Resurrection, are overwhelmingly relevant to this issue. The sacrifice of Christ is the end of all expiatory killing; only an unbiblical compartmentalization can argue that the event of the Cross, itself a typical phenomenon of miscarried civil justice issuing in the execution of an innocent, has nothing to do with the civil order.

THE LAW OF LOVE

If then Judaism is not an adequate key to the understanding of the Bible’s teaching on human life, what is the key? Is it not to be found in the frequent New Testament teaching, especially clear in Matthew 25:31 ff. and in 1 John 3:18; 4:12, 20, that we are to see and serve God in our neighbor? Countless other New Testament admonitions tell us to love our neighbor and to keep God’s commandments. Furthermore they define what loving our neighbor means. The idea that we could kill his body while loving his soul is excluded. Love considers the total well-being of the beloved: “love worketh no ill” (Rom. 13). This divinely sanctioned worth which my neighbor should have in my eyes is due not to some philosophical idea of inherent human dignity but to the grace of creation and the impartation of the divine Image, and to the reaffirmation of this grace in the Incarnation and the teaching and behavior of our Lord. Bodily life is not simply a carnal vehicle for the immortal soul; it is part and parcel of the unity of human personality through which the divine Word condescended to reveal himself.

The only direct New Testament reference to capital punishment is in John chapter 8, a passage generally recognized to be authentic Gospel tradition even by those who deny its belonging in the original canonic text of John. Romans 13 deals with the principle that Christians should submit to the established pagan civil authorities. It affirms that even they are instituted to serve the “good” (v. 4). This text alone, however, does not spell out what “good” is. The “sword” of which Paul writes is the symbol of judicial authority; it is not the instrument used by the Romans for executing criminals. Even if it were, the passage would say nothing of the tempering effect which the leaven of Christian witness within society should have on its institutions. Neither the passage in Romans nor comparable ones in the epistles of Timothy or Peter speak to the issue of the state’s taking life; and the incident from the life of Jesus remains our first orientation point.

The striking thing about the attitude Jesus takes to the woman, patently guilty of a capital offense, is not what he says about capital punishment but the new context into which he places the problem. He does not deny that such prescriptions were part of the Mosaic code, but he raises two other considerations which profoundly modify the significance of that code for his day and for ours. First he raises the issue of the moral authority of judge and executioner: “Let him that is without sin cast the first stone.” Secondly he applies to this woman’s offense, which is a civil offense, his authority to forgive sin. There is no differentiation between the religious and the civil which says that God may forgive the sinner but justice must still be done. Once again we see that the expiation wrought by Christ is politically relevant. Like divorce (Matt. 19:8), like the distortions of the law which Jesus corrects in Matthew 5, and like the institution of slavery, capital punishment is one of those infringements on the divine Will which take place in society, sometimes with a certain formal legitimacy, and which the Gospel does not immediately eliminate from secular society even though it declares that “from the beginning it was not so.” The new level of brotherhood on which the redeemed community is to live cannot be directly enforced upon the larger society; but if it be of the Gospel, it must work as a leaven, as salt, and as light, especially if, as in the case in the Anglo-Saxon world, the larger society claims some kind of Christian sanction for its existence and its social pattern. If Christ is not only Prophet and Priest but also King, the line between Church and world cannot be impermeable to moral truth. Something of cross-bearing, forgiving ethics of the Kingdom must be made relevant to the civil order.

This relevance will not be direct and immediate. The State is not and should not be the Church, and therefore it cannot apply New Testament ethics in an unqualified way. Yet to have made this point does not mean that the State may operate according to standards that contradict those of the Gospel. There is a difference between diluting, adapting, and qualifying standards which the State must do, and denying them altogether which the State has no right to do. To dispose of the life of fellowmen, who share with us the image of God and for whom Christ, being made in the likeness of men, died, oversteps the limits of the case which any government within “Christendom” can make for ethical compromise. The State is not made Christian by the presence of the Church in its population or by the presence of pious phrases on its postage stamps and coins. It has at least been made aware of and has partially committed itself to certain divine standards which it cannot ignore. If a given society permits slavery, divorce, and vengeance against criminals (most of the biblical arguments for capital punishment can be closely paralleled by similar ones for the institution of slavery), the Church cannot legally abolish these practices; but she can call the State to a closer approximation to true standards of human community.

The sanctity of human life is not a dogma of speculation, but part of the divine work of Creation and Redemption. We call for the legal abolition of capital punishment not because we think the criminal is innocent but because we share his guilt before God who has borne the punishment we all merited. Certainly we are not saying that he is a nice person worthy of another chance. It is God that gives another chance to the unworthy. We expect to do away with civil order, but Redemption has shown us what purpose that order serves and by what yardstick it should be measured. “I am come that they may have life” was not spoken only of men’s “souls.”

2. Charles S. Milligan

Dr. Jacob J. Vellenga raises the question, “Is Capital Punishment Wrong?” and answers that it is just and right. It is the conviction of many of us that his position is tragically mistaken. I will confine myself to Dr. Vellenga’s use of the Bible, because I believe it is at this point that an examination of his case causes it to collapse.

THE OLD TESTAMENT

There is certainly no question that the Old Testament permits, and indeed requires, the death penalty. What interests me about his citations from the Old Testament is that he limits them to those cases which have to do with murder. Now the fact is that the Old Testament includes many other crimes for which the death penalty is mandatory. The book of Exodus, for example, lists the following: to strike one’s father or mother (21:15), to steal and sell a man (21:16), and to curse one’s father or mother (21:17). If a man’s ox kills another man, the owner as well as the ox is to be killed (21:29). Witches are to be executed (22:18). Sacrifice to any god other than Jehovah is a capital crime (22:20). Leviticus adds adultery as a capital crime (20:10).

Nowhere does the Old Testament say that some of these laws are to be taken seriously and literally, while others may in time be ignored. It does not say that the principle of capital punishment is valid in general, and that each generation may determine the crimes to which it shall apply. On the contrary, the Old Testament is very explicit, as all codes of civil law must be, in spelling out the crimes and circumstances.

Not only are the crimes specified, but often we find the mode of punishment prescribed, and in some cases the person to carry out the execution. A wizard is to be stoned to death (Lev. 20:27). A woman assaulted in the city is to be stoned to death, but one assaulted in the country is not to be stoned (Deut. 22:24–25). This made sense in those days on the presumption that if the woman cried out in the city she would be heard, but she might cry out in the deserted fields and not be heard. Cities and houses are constructed differently today. A bride who is not a virgin is to be stoned to death by the elders in front of her father’s house (Deut. 22:21). A rebellious son is to be stoned to death by all the men of the city (Deut. 21:18–21).

Why does Dr. Vellenga not cite any of these references? They clearly bear on the question of capital punishment. I invite any reader to examine the vast literature on this subject and compare the careful attention given by abolitionists to arguments opposed to their case, as compared with like attention given by those who would retain capital punishment. The reader will find the comparison most extraordinary.

Now these laws I have cited seem to us very harsh. We should remember that when they were applied they represented a great advance over primitive custom. When observed they acted as a restraint upon angry vengeance. Indeed there are many situations in our world today where it would be pronounced and humane progress for only one life to be exacted for another, and only one tooth for another.

These laws were based upon a principle of exact retribution or just desert (Exod. 21:23–25). There were some exceptions: slaves, for example, did not merit equivalent retribution. A man whose servant dies from blows inflicted is to be punished, but it does not say he is to receive death (Exod. 21:20). If the owner puts out the slave’s eye, the slave does not have the right to put out the owner’s eye in return, but rather to go free, which in any case made more sense then than now (Exod. 21:26).

If you are going to insist that some of these laws be applied literally and mechanically to present day situations, I do not understand why all of them are not to be so applied. The Old Testament does not indicate that it is to be taken authoritatively on certain crimes but not on others nor on the method of execution. If you are going to follow a mechanical application of the Old Testament on capital punishment, I do not see any possible basis for objecting to polygomy (Deut. 21:15), animal sacrifices (Lev. 16:6), permitting the farm land to lie fallow every seventh year (Exod. 23:11), and avoiding the wearing of wool and linen at the same time (Deut. 22:11). I would remind those who use the Old Testament in this way that it was not only recommended but mandatory that a man have children by his brother’s widow (Deut. 25:5–10), which again served an important and quite possibly necessary purpose in those days.

THE NEW TESTAMENT

When we come to the New Testament, those who would justify capital punishment have a much harder time of it. Whereas Dr. Vellenga’s article was able to use the Old Testament directly and clearly, if with high selectivity, he found it necessary to engage in rather obscure reasoning when deducing from the New Testament that capital punishment is clearly justified.

Now I agree that Christ came to fulfill the law and, as Dr. Vellenga puts it, “not to destroy the basic principles of law and order, righteousness and justice.” But to say that is by no means to urge that the prescriptions of the Torah are to remain in force. This is just the point, that in the New Testament we move to a different base for law and therefore to some changes in specific laws and their mode of enforcement. The basic principle becomes very different from that of retribution which “worketh wrath” (Rom. 4:15). St. Paul plainly took the position that Christian faith cancels the prescriptions of the Torah (cf. Gal. 3:10–14; 3:23–25). As we all know, Jesus was frequently at odds with the Pharisees and Sadducees over rigid and exact following of the Old Testament prescriptions (cf. Matt. 12:10; 15:11–15; 21:23; 23:23; Mark 2:18; 2:24; 3:2; 7:5 ff.; Luke 5:33; 6:2; 14:3; and 20:2 to cite only a partial list.) “The law and the prophets were until John: since that time the kingdom of God is preached, and every man presseth into it” (Luke 16:16). This does not mean that the Old Testament becomes irrelevant, but it means freedom from the sort of selected proof texts which are cited to justify capital punishment.

And immediately following the statement that he came not to destroy the Torah, Jesus presented those immortal contrasts which provide a new way of looking at the whole matter (Matt. 5:17 ff.; cf. Luke 16:17). It can hardly be maintained, as one views the total context of the Gospels, that Jesus meant to commend a legalistic application of every prescription. When he summed up the law and the prophets, it was on the basis of love, not of paying back (Matt. 22:37–40). Christianity does not ask, “what is owed this man, that he may be paid exactly his due.” It asks, “how can this man be redeemed and his life reclaimed?” Is it significant that when Jesus read from the scroll of Isaiah in the synagogue, he stopped at that point where the passage goes on to speak of “the day of vengeance”? (cf. Luke 4:16–20 and Isa. 61:1–2). I think it is. Indeed, the very reason he felt called upon to deny he was destroying the Torah was that his message might easily have been misinterpreted that way. It could not have been misinterpreted had he taught legalistic adherence to the law.

Nowhere does Jesus recommend punishment by human individuals or groups for the sake of just retribution. Rather, in the New Testament the spirit is this: “Recompense to no man evil for evil … avenge not yourselves” (Rom. 12:17–19). How this passage can be twisted into favoring capital punishment by the state, I fail to see. We are emphatically warned against that kind of judging condemnation which vengeance and retribution require (cf. Matt. 7:1 ff.; Rom. 2:1). If we need further documentation, we should ponder deeply Jesus’ citation of the Lex Talionis, or law of retaliation, of Exodus 21:23, and his contrasting and explicit statement in Matthew 5:38–39. We are called to a righteousness which exceeds that of the legalists (Matt. 5:20). The principle of retribution is to be replaced with that of reconciliation (Matt. 5:23–24).

TWO RELEVANT EVENTS

Now the fact is that the New Testament nowhere deals with capital punishment as such, in terms of principle, so that a general conclusion is stipulated. However, we do have some instances which were related to capital crimes. The most noteworthy is John 8:1–11. The woman taken in adultery had committed a crime with reference to which the Old Testament is explicit as to punishment. She was to be stoned to death (Lev. 20:10; Deut. 22:21; 22:24). Why did they think they could put Jesus on the spot in this situation, if it was not suspected that he would disagree with the law? Their suspicion turned out to be well founded. He did not say, “Do what the law says.” We find no talk about making an example of this woman in order that others may be deterred from like behaviour. We get no discourse on the abstract rightness of the death penalty, regrettable though the specific instance may be. We have instead the words, “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.” Is it not interesting that those who use the Bible to commend capital punishment ignore this one specific case where Jesus spoke on its applicability?

Another incident in the New Testament relates to our subject. When Paul learned that the slave Onesimus was to be sent back to his owner, Paul went to some trouble to prevent an execution. The letter to Philemon deals directly with this. Paul also included in the letter to Colossae a passage urging them to use their influence in the situation at Laodicea, which was a short distance from Colossae and the place where Philemon and his brethren lived (Col. 4:9; 4:15–17). The point was that as an escaped slave, Onesimus was, under Roman law, subject to punishment by the owner, including, at the owner’s discretion, death. Did Paul take this as a marvelous opportunity to discourse on the justice of capital punishment, and that we Christians ought not to make too much of physical life? No, Paul urged that the owner receive the slave, now an ex-convict, as if he were Paul, and that Paul himself would pay whatever punishment the owner determines, followed by the legal phrase to make it binding and official, “I Paul write it with mine own hand” (Philem. 17–18). It is pointless to argue that Paul should have agitated for revision of the civil law. Since he was in prison at the time, he was hardly in a position to do that, and under Roman government he could not have done it under any circumstances.

These examples do not provide a sufficient basis for unlimited generalization about the New Testament and capital punishment, but I certainly think they ought to cause those who claim to base justification of capital punishment on the New Testament to pause and think.

There is much I would like to add and there are many further objections to be raised against Dr. Vellenga’s article. I must, however, mention such statements as “there is no forgiveness for anyone who is unforgiving,” and the use of the Beatitude on mercy in connection with that. The passages cited (including Psa. 18:25–26) refer to God. Are we to conclude that for our part we are therefore to be merciful and forgiving only toward those who are themselves merciful and deserving? I would certainly think not. Dr. Vellenga also cites numerous passages which command respect for government and civil order. But what bearing do these have on whether we urge and work for revision of a law? This is precisely the kind of respect for due procedure and citizenship that democracy is predicated on and by which it is strengthened. These very passages have been used on occasion to justify some remarkably evil governments, but this is the first time I have found them used for what I take to be an argument that responsible agitation for revision of a law in a democracy is resisting “what God has appointed.” If that is not the burden of his argument at this point, I do not see any relevance of it whatever to the subject. And then there is his closing remark about “one generation’s thinking.” Does he not know that Victor Hugo wrote a book on this subject in 1829, that Michigan abolished capital punishment in 1847, and Rhode Island did so in 1852?

I must object most emphatically to the reference he makes to the Crucifixion. Just how this recommends capital punishment to us escapes me. And just how putting a man to death stands “as a silent but powerful witness to the sacredness of God-given life” is mystifying in the extreme.

I am well aware that what I have written here does not add up to the conclusion that capital punishment should be abolished. I do not see how one can come to a conclusion, pro or con, apart from a study of the facts. The problem then is to manifest that mind which was in Christ with reference to this issue. Those who would use the New Testament legalistically will not find any abstract law which specifically mentions the death penalty. I do maintain that what we have in the New Testament clearly places the burden of proof on those who would now retain the death penalty. No amount of charging, be it “popular, naturalistic … sociology and penology,” will substitute for the responsibility of inquiring into the facts of this subject.

3. Gordon H. Clark

In the October 12, 1959, issue of CHRISTIANITY TODAY, Dr. Jacob Vellenga had an article defending capital punishment. In the present issue Dr. Yoder and Dr. Milligan have articles opposing it. Dr. Milligan states the question in very acceptable terms: “Is capital punishment just and right?” Since Dr. Yoder asserts, “capital punishment is one of those infringements on the divine Will which takes place in society,” the wording of the question may be sharpened this way: “Is capital punishment ever right?” Dr. Yoder seems to believe that it was wrong even in the Old Testament.

Fortunately this form of the question rules out discussions on the cost of judicial procedure, the number of states that have abolished capital punishment, the (poorly-founded) doubt that execution deters murder, and other extraneous details. The question is not whether murderers escape their penalty, but whether they should. The question is not the direction in which modern penology is going, but whether it is going in the wrong direction. The question is not the efficiency of American justice. We admit that American justice leaves much to be desired. Criminals receive too much favor and sympathy. But all such details would lead to an interminable discussion. The question is simply, Is capital punishment ever justified?

THE OLD COVENANT

Both of the opposing articles rightly center their attention on the relation of the Old Testament to the New Testament. Dr. Yoder asks whether a proper Christian understanding of any problem begins with Moses, or whether a proper approach to the Bible begins with Christ himself. To minimize the Old Testament Dr. Yoder and Dr. Milligan then press the details of stoning an adulterer, of executing an idolator, of establishing cities of refuge, of appointing a kinsman of the murdered man as the executioner, and so on.

Now, in the first place, I should like to maintain that a proper understanding of the Bible begins with Moses—not with the Mosaic law as such, but with the first chapter of Genesis. In particular, when the Old Testament lays down basic principles, such as the sovereignty of God, the creation of all things, God’s control over history, the inclusion of infants in the Covenant, or other matters not explicitly abrogated or modified in the New Testament, the silence of the latter, or the paucity of its references, is not to be made an excuse for abandoning the principles of the former. As Dr. Yoder admits, there is much more information on civil government in the Old than in the New Testament. Therefore I would conclude that the Old Testament should not be minimized.

Probably every view of the controversial question of the relation between the Testaments acknowledges that the New in some respects modifies the Old. The most obvious of these modifications is the fulfillment of the ritual by the death of Christ. The Mosaic administration was superimposed upon the Abrahamic covenant 430 years afterward and was to remain in effect only until the Messiah came. Even the animal sacrifices that had been instituted before the time of Moses were types or pictorial anticipations of the one sacrifice that in truth satisfied divine justice. To offer them now would be to imply that Christ had not yet come. Because of this, Dr. Milligan’s argument that the defense of capital punishment consistently requires animal sacrifice is invalid. What else could Hebrews chapter 9 possibly mean?

For this reason too, Dr. Vellenga’s reference to the Crucifixion as a point in favor of capital punishment is not so irrelevant as the opposition alleges, for the death penalty was not merely Pilate’s decision to be regarded as mistaken; rather it was God who had foreordained that without the shedding of blood there is no remission of sin.

Next, if the cessation of the ritual is the most widely understood modification of the Old Testament, the increase of biblical ignorance since the seventeenth century seems to have erased from memory the point that the civil laws of Israel also are no longer meant to apply. God abolished the theocracy. Such is the teaching of Jesus in Matthew 21:33–45. The Pharisees thought that any men who would kill the Messiah would be miserably destroyed, but that God would then let out the vineyard to other High Priests and that the theocracy would continue as before. Jesus said no. The Kingdom would be taken from the Jews, the theocracy would be ended, and a new order would be instituted in which the rejected stone would become the head of the corner. So it has happened. There is no longer any chosen nation. Therefore the detailed civil and criminal code of Israel is no longer binding.

For this reason we do not have cities of refuge: police and judicial protection is sufficient. We are not required to marry our brother’s widow, because the purpose of preserving his name and tribe is no longer in effect.

CRIME AND PUNISHMENT

This does not, however, and in logic cannot imply that capital punishment is wrong. Would one argue that since the Jews were forbidden to lend money on interest to other Jews, it is now wrong to obey that law and to refuse to accept interest from other Christians? This is just bad logic. At most, the rejection of the civil law as a whole would merely leave the individual details as open questions. And even one who strongly deprecates the Old Testament must in honesty admit that several of those details could be wisely adopted today. In the present depraved condition of the United States, we might even wisely execute adulterers and pornographers.

Where the opponents of capital punishment go astray is in the assumption that approval of execution depends on its inclusion in the national laws of Israel. Its inclusion there is of course quite sufficient to show the falsity of Dr. Yoder’s assertion that execution is an infringement on the divine Will. It was God who ordered capital punishment. Therefore it is entirely incorrect to say that capital punishment is an infringement of divine prerogatives; and the question, Is capital punishment ever right? must be answered in the affirmative.

Of course, this much does not satisfy Dr. Milligan. The pertinent question is, Is capital punishment ever right today?

To this question it should be replied that although the ritual and civil laws are no longer in effect, the moral law is. I cannot agree with Dr. Milligan that in the New Testament “we move to a different base for law.” The basis of moral law in all ages is the preceptive will of God. The laws against adultery and murder are not merely Mosaic enactments: they go back to creation. More to the point, capital punishment is commanded by God in his revelation to Noah, and by implication at least was applicable to Cain (Gen. 4:10, 14).

A GENERAL RULE

God’s dealing with Cain, however, indicates that it is not absolutely necessary to execute every murderer. When we say that God commanded capital punishment, the meaning is that this penalty was established as the general rule. It does not mean that there could not rightly be exceptions. Remember, the question is, Is capital punishment ever right? Therefore, the case of the woman taken in adultery has no bearing on the matter. For one thing, it should be noted that the woman was taken in the very act; but the scribes and Pharisees had arrested only the woman and not the man, whom they must also have found in the very act. Aside from Jesus’ intention to reveal the hypocrisy of the religious leaders, there may have been other reasons for not inflicting the penalty on this woman. But can this one case support a theory of civil law while all the rest of the Bible is ignored? If this were so, there would be no penalties of any sort for any crimes.

It is this point that the other two authors do not discuss. Dr. Yoder, in his second paragraph, does not want to lower the standards of justice, excuse crime, or gloss over the wrongness of wrong. But he supplies no reason for inflicting prison terms instead of execution. In fact, his argument against personal responsibility, its seemingly Freudian psychology, its placing the blame on society as a whole, would rather suggest that no penalties for any crime should be inflicted. Until the opponents of capital punishment formulate their theory of civil authority, nothing more need be said on this point.

To indicate that the many details in the two articles have not been ignored, even though passed over in silence here, I shall make mention of Jesus’ reading the scroll in the synagogue in Nazareth. Jesus stopped reading just before the clause on the day of vengeance. Dr. Milligan thinks that this is significant. No doubt it is. But it is not significant of the fact that the state should not execute criminals. It is significant of the fact that the ministry of Jesus at that time was to proclaim the year of Jehovah’s favor. The day of vengeance is to come later when Jesus shall be revealed from heaven in flaming fire, rendering vengeance to them that know not God. Such passages have nothing to do with civil government, and to press them against capital punishment is inadmissible.

Now, finally, it is our contention that the New Testament authorizes capital punishment and war as well as the Old. Dr. Milligan does not mention the power of the sword granted to earthly governments in Romans chapter 13. Dr. Yoder tries to make this power merely a symbol of judicial authority without any reference to execution. Is not this a measure of desperation? What are swords used for? Is taxation, mentioned in the same passage, also a symbol of civil authority without any reference to extracting money from the pockets of the people? No, such an interpretation completely gives away the weakness of the case for symbolism.

In other words, the opponents of capital punishment offer no theory of civil government, they seriously misinterpret the Bible, and they are in conflict with the principles of Christian ethics.

A challenging book about Galileo appeared in Germany that merits the attention of everyone concerned about faith and science. The writer, F. Dessauer, makes an attempt to draw significant lessons for our time from the Church’s condemnation of Galileo. Dessauer is particularly concerned with the turn-about that the Church had to make: once having condemned Galileo’s ideas, the Church later came to new understanding and had to confess implicitly that she had erred in the case of Galileo. Dessauer is a faithful Catholic and underscores his insistence that the infallibility of the Pope is not in question here at all. Nonetheless, he recognizes that the problem arises from the fact that the Church spoke out in condemnation of a scientific idea and found herself forced later by incontrovertible proofs to admit that her condemnation was unjust.

Dessauer describes the personal tragedy of Galileo very movingly. He lets us hear his judgment, see his arrest, watch him live his lonely life without contact with the world, and finally hear him recant what he had formerly taught as inescapable truth. Dessauer is rightly amazed that the Church could have treated so noble a man so badly. He also calls attention to the tragic estrangement that the case created between the officialdom of the Church and the new spirits rising within and outside of the Church of that day.

Dessauer is deeply impressed by the great responsibility that the Church carries when she speaks. He is impressed by the care with which the Church must exercise her responsibility in connection with the developments of science. He is aware that the Galileo affair was haunted by the fearful ghost of the Inquisition and he lets us know that the Pope had spoken judgmentally of Galileo to the Florentine ambassador. In short, Dessauer frankly exposes the entire tragedy, holding only one reserve in his judgment on the Church—the infallibility of the Pope.

The Galileo episode has implications for other people besides the Roman Catholics. The issue raised by Dessauer touches the whole Church and her relationship to the growth of modern science. It faces us with the religion and science conflict or, as it is better described, the relationship between Scripture and science. One is forced to acknowledge the enormous damage that can be done to the cause of the Church when the Church speaks presumptuously on matters belonging to science, and has to take back later what she said in judgment before. The Church’s tendency to err here is perhaps understandable in the light of past history. But when the Church has to recant dogmatic positions previously taken in the heat of controversy, she suffers undeniable loss of face and prestige. Worse than that, she loses respect.

In the Galileo affair, the Church repeatedly summoned the Word of God as witness to the truth of her stand. The motives of the Church were probably pure; the Church felt called upon to protect truth. But time proved that the Church’s appeal to the Word was conditioned by her own limited insights. And so the Church failed to proclaim the eternal truth that is above the shifting sands of opinion and fear.

When the Church errs by presumptuous attacks on new ideas of science, she always estranges people from herself. This has been especially true of the Church’s responses to the conclusions of natural science. Today, it is especially clear that the Church has a calling to avoid all quick and easy appeals to Scripture against science. We must take great care that we do not needlessly estrange young people who are reared in modern science. Christianity must never alienate people from Jesus Christ by theologians’ foolish arguments against authentic and scholarly science.

This does not mean that science presents no danger to the Church and her preaching of the Gospel. It does mean, however, that pious motives are not sufficient as defenses against these dangers. The Pope had pious motives in his attack on Galileo. He was afraid of the determinism which he thought was implicit in the new science of that day. But the Pope’s good intentions did not spare the Church from the serious damage done by the condemnation of Galileo. The youth and especially the men of science were shaken in their confidence in the Church. This example should teach us to reckon seriously with the relation between the Church and the world of science. It should also be a cogent warning against quick and simple judgments on natural science by the Church.

The Church always has a temptation to make pronouncements that have a superficial basis in the Bible whenever science poses a particular threat to faith. But it is just such temptations that lead to the embarrassment of having to take back in leisure what was pronounced in haste. Tension between faith and science can exist even when no scientist is being condemned and no official pronouncement is made by the Church. The Church must accept as her solemn responsibility the task of keeping the tensions within the sphere of truth; she must avoid making the tensions a matter of science versus obscurantism or fear. When science attacks the Christian faith, it is a tragedy. But when the Church, with an appeal to the Bible, creates a needless alienation between science and the Gospel, it is a worse tragedy.

There is no reason for the believer to fear science. If Christian faith is genuine faith, her disciples need not live in the fear that some discovery may one day be made that will render faith impossible. Indeed, believers must accept the scientific challenge in complete honesty and with a deep sense of responsibility. I do not want to underestimate the great problems that still exist within the relationship between Church and science. But it needs to be declared emphatically that the resistance of the world to the Gospel must be aroused only by the Gospel itself. Resistance to the Gospel and alienation from the Church must not be aroused by any foolish pronouncements against science. We should learn from the Church’s frequent embarrassments of the past. We must remember how certain the Church often was of her stand against scientific conclusions, and how deeply embarrassed she was when she had to swallow her own words.

May the Lord save us from casting away our power by presumptuous pronouncements on matters outside our ken. The Lord save us from creating a stumbling block by our own foolishness, and from the loss of influence that stems not from orthodox theology but from human pretension. The cross of Christ is the stumbling block; let the Church beware lest she create any other.

The Fate Of A Non-Conformist

The Crime of Galileo, by Giorgio de Santillana (Heinemann, London, 1955, 339 pp., 30s., University of Chicago Press, $5.75), is reviewed by Philip Edgcumbe Hughes, Editor of The Churchman.

The Crime of Galileo is the title of a most interesting book on a fascinating subject from the pen of Giorgio de Santillana, who is Professor of the History and Philosophy of Science at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Dr. de Santillana’s writing is marked by intelligence, good humor, and objectivity, and he is always master of what is indeed a dramatic theme, touched with both pathos and tragedy. Who will deny that he is justified in seeing parallels between the persecution of Galileo and the hunting down of non-conforming suspects in our own generation? It is at all times a terrible indictment of humanity to see a great man crushed, humiliated, and silenced by the ignorant inhumanity of power politics.

Galileo’s crime consisted in his espousal of the view that the sun, not the earth, is the centre of our planetary system. But it is well to be quite clear that the facile affirmation, still too commonly accepted, that his condemnation is attributable to the enmity of religious obscurantism towards scientific enlightenment by no means answers to the full truth. For centuries the Ptolemaic doctrine of the earth as the unmoving centre of the world has been the unchallenged view of science. To it the Church had added its sanctifying sanction. It was the science no less than the theology of his day that stood up in anger against Galileo. Galileo was, of course, following in the footsteps of Copernicus, who had published his treatise on The Revolutions of the Celestial Orbs in 1543, 21 years before the birth of Galileo. It was Galileo, however, who first caused the Copernican system to be regarded with some seriousness, so much so that in 1616 the ecclesiastical authorities took the step of placing Copernicus’ work on the Index of forbidden literature.

Yet it must not be thought that the whole world of theology and science was united in its repudiation of Galileo’s doctrine. There were, in fact, numbers of theologians and philosophers who were convinced by the cogency of his reasoning, though not all could fully understand the system he expounded with such brilliance. Some of these friendly spirits were influential, and they did what they could to influence the authorities to Galileo’s advantage. But none were able to withstand a determined Pope or challenge the senseless inexorability of the all-powerful machine of the Inquisition. What could be more preposterous than the fact that Firenzuola, the Commissary-General of the Inquisition which tried and condemned Galileo, was in reality (though not in public) of the same opinion as Galileo concerning the solar system?

Professor de Santillana, himself a Roman by birth, says that “we should try to think of Rome of those times, … where true saints could be found, to be sure, but which otherwise was the most corrupt of administrative capitals … packed with fanatical and petulant monks, shrewd intriguers, postulants, paid and unpaid observers, diplomats, cynical secretaries, fulsome literati and inane versifiers living off the bounty of some prelate; lazy insolent nobles, curialist lawyers, stony-faced publicans rack-renting for the princes and the convents; spies, informers, go-betweens, men about town, unctuous priests and officials, careful hypocrites, suspicious hard old men, meeching young men on their way to preferments through oily conformism; all the parasitical, torpid, cunning and malevolent society that vegetated like a pestilent mushroom growth on the fringes of an imperial world bureaucracy and for whom the stability and prestige of that bureaucracy in matters spiritual meant their career and their income.” It was to this city that the papal messenger summoned Galileo from Florence in order to give an account of himself. “His was the tragedy of an excess of gifts,” comments Dr. de Santillana; “for, while the telescope was his key to success, his real social strength lay in his extraordinary literary capacity, his brilliant repartee, his eloquence and charm, which gave him rank in a culture founded exclusively on belles-lettres and humanistic accomplishments.” In potent Rome he was a voice crying in the wilderness.

As with others before him who had shown signs of moving against the powerful stream of ecclesiastical authoritarianism, Galileo had little option but to make formal submission to the judgment of Pope and Church, if he and his work were to stand any chance of not being submerged and smashed. Thus when called upon to make answer to the charge preferred against him he protested that he would never affirm the Copernican doctrine as true: “zeal for our religion and holy faith” prevented him from doing that, however great the probability of the doctrine on the grounds of human reason and experience. His tongue, however, was too obviously in his cheek. Indeed, the hollowness of his submission was such that, even in making it, he presumed to state that, “within the limits of natural and human considerations, the rightness of the Copernican system appears incontrovertible.” As Professor de Santillana remarks, the chuckle is almost audible when Galileo writes that, the more valid the proofs, “the clearer the beneficent conclusion that there is no trusting purely human reasoning and that we must rely implicitly on the higher knowledge which alone can bring light to the darkness of our mind.”

But Galileo’s adversaries were not willing to let him get away with things as easily as this. Matters moved on, tediously and frustratingly for Galileo, to the summons which was to arraign him before the Roman Inquisition. Increasingly he became a pathetic figure; his self-denunciations became more and more abject, in the hope that he might at least be permitted to pass his old age in some measure of peace and immunity from persecution. But the many self-important officials and dignitaries, whose pride was threatened by his theories, and the Pope himself, who was inflexible in his determination to uphold the decree of 1616 proscribing the teaching of Copernicus, were bent on his destruction. Well might the unfortunate Galileo exclaim that “of all hatreds there is none greater than that of ignorance against knowledge,” and complain bitterly: “The months and the years pass by, my life wastes away, and my work is condemned to rot.”

Brought before the Inquisition, he had to learn the further lesson that every attempt at self-defense was a foregone futility, that as Professor de Santillana observes, “the authorities were not interested in truth but only in authority.” The sum of the situation was this, that “in the Galileo trial the Inquisition was suborned into a command performance by an unscrupulous group of power politicians.” The authorities “could not very conveniently broadcast the real motives” for their persecution of this cultured man with the questing mind, “which were that Galileo had taken to writing in Italian and that he had made them look foolish, or that the political meaning of it was that the Jesuits had evened up a score with the Dominicans by way of the new game of cosmological football.” Father Grienberger in fact had told Galileo that, if only he had known “how to retain the favour of the Jesuits, he would have stood in renown before the world, he would have been spared all his misfortunes, and he could have written what he pleased about everything, even about the motion of the Earth.”

The sentence pronounced on June 22, 1633, against Galileo, then 70 years old, condemned him as “vehemently suspected of heresy, namely, of having believed and held the doctrine—which is false and contrary to the sacred and divine Scriptures—that the Sun is the centre of the world and does not move from east to west and that the earth moves and is not the centre of the world; and that an opinion may be held and defended as probable after it has been declared and defined to the contrary to Holy Scripture.” Galileo was required to sign a prescribed form of abjuration in which he professed to “abjure, curse, and detest the aforesaid errors and heresies and generally every other error, heresy, and sect whatsoever contrary to the Holy Church.” The Galilean cosmology is not, of course, contrary to Holy Scripture (though it is a strange fact that many modern theologians speak of the two as being incompatible, and therefore concur with the judgment of the Inquisition, but not with its verdict, since they now condemn Holy Scripture instead of Galileo). The point was that it was contrary to what ecclesiastical authority had declared and defined to be contrary to Holy Scripture.

Though the physical penalties imposed on this old man may be said to have been slight—the repetition once a week for a period of three years of the seven penitential Psalms and, as things worked out, house arrest during the remaining eight years of his life—the spiritual damage inflicted was appalling: the violation of a personality, the steamrollering of a mind, the humiliation of a genius. The lessons of the Galileo case are plain enough for those who are willing to perceive them. Absolute authoritarianism, whether in church or state, whether in theology or science, is an evil thing, and must be withstood by those who value truth and freedom and the dignity of the individual. The moral is graphically pointed by Professor de Santillana: “Today, when juridical safeguards have been exterminated in one half of the world and are gravely threatened in the other, it might behoove us not to feel overly virtuous in reading of these ancient errors. The Curia of Urban VIII stand out as great gentlemen compared with their modern lay counterparts. Caccini rides again among us, and his name is legion. He is no longer an itinerant monk; his place is in the senates of the great nations. Electronic computers are slowly closing in on the citizen’s uncertain course. Deviations from what is considered the essential orthodoxy have never, of course, escaped punishment since the beginning of history; but, once search converges on the ‘thought crime’ in its double aspect of something theoretically intangible and concretely dangerous, the way of the inquirer is bound to become again and again that of the Inquisitor.”

PHILIP EDGCUMBE HUGHES

Discovery Of New Direction

Conversion, by E. Stanley Jones (Abingdon, 1959, 253 pp., $3.25), is reviewed by Robert O. Ferm, Author of The Psychology of Christian Conversion.

In his delightful and interesting style, Dr. E. Stanley Jones has produced another volume, this time on the subject of conversion. He leaves no doubt in the mind of his reader concerning the beneficial effects of conversion. Though he defends the policy of the church that includes in its membership those who are unconverted, he laments the fact that “two thirds of the membership of the churches know little or nothing about conversion as a personal, experimental fact.”

Dr. Jones correctly distinguishes between conversion and proselytism. He also calls attention to the unique character of Christian conversion; and when making comparison with what he calls the “vast universal process of conversion,” he speaks of Christian conversion as being “conversion at its highest point.” He says “Christian conversion is of a specific kind with a certain definite content and character leading to certain definite results in life.”

Having so well stated this proposition, he proceeds to say that there are three steps in conversion—the first being the discovery of a new direction. This, he says, means “to turn your back on the old life and face toward Christ.”

The second step is to have a fresh beginning. Here the person converted becomes as a little child.

The third step is to enter the Kingdom, and this gives “a new sphere of living.” The person may be called upon to live in two worlds at once, “The world of physical relationships and the world of the Kingdom of God.”

The unconverted man is not living in a natural state, Dr. Jones claims, and at this point he departs from the Pauline definition for “natural” and holds the popular one. But his point is well taken when he says “Conversion doesn’t dehumanize us by transplanting an alien life on the framework of the natural, thus setting up a tension between the natural and the supernatural.… The converted man is more natural because controlled by the supernatural, with natural joys, natural gaiety, natural spontaneity, natural freedom, natural fulfillment.” One must accept his total world view in order to grasp the significance of such a claim.

Having manifested a knowledge of the significant works on the psychology of conversion, Dr. Jones proceeds courageously to make his own definition and holds that “the area of the work of conversion is largely in the realm of wrong thinking, wrong attitudes, wrong emotions—of a mixed up, messed up self.” In making this declaration he obviously rejects the turpitude of all sin.

Most interesting is the longest chapter of the book which is devoted to particular conversion stories. In reading them, one wonders how clearly these “converts” grasped the essentials of redemption through Christ, for some of them appear to be psychological conversions more than theological ones. Dr. Jones also weakens the discussion by making the statement that he needs to be converted frequently.

Conversion, the author points out, comes through three movements: “Mental conflict, emotional crisis, and the resolution of the conflict.” This statement follows closely the findings of William James. Then he says that “the center of conversion is the conversion of the will.”

To the person desiring conversion, the following steps are suggested: review, repent, surrender, receive, make restitution, commit yourself, and finally rejoice. Having followed through these seven steps, the convert is exhorted to rejoice for “when you are with Christ, facing life together you are saved.”

The noticeable weakness of Dr. Jones’ study lies not so much in what has been said but in what has been omitted or obscured. His emphasis upon the psychological aspects of conversion causes certain uneasiness on the part of the critical reader whose orientation is biblical and theological. Important as the psychological aspect of conversion may be, the biblical emphasis upon the redemptive work of Christ, the power of the Holy Spirit, and the sufficiency of the revealed Word are of paramount importance.

Having noted the overemphasis of the psychological, I shall conclude that this interesting volume has a wealth of information for those whose concern is with the phenomenon of conversion.

ROBERT O. FERM

Significant Contribution

Christian Hymnody, by Ernest E. Ryden (Augustana Press, 1959, 670 pp., $5.95), is reviewed by F. R. Webber, of Mount Vernon, New York.

A spinster, frustrated and unhappy, is making her way to the river to drown herself. She hears a nightingale sing. Seizing the stub of a pencil and a torn scrap of paper she produces in half an hour a hymn that the whole world sings. Most books on church hymnody are full of such incidents. Dr. Ryden’s is not. He is not misled by the tear-jerking tales of the legend makers. In his 670 pages he discusses 1,166 hymns, very few of which were written on the back of an old envelope with a stubby pencil.

This does not mean that he has ignored the humbler type of hymn, nor has he overloaded his book with classics. A work of this scope must tell the entire story. Just as a truthful account of New York City’s religious life will include the shabby storefront missions no less than St. Thomas’, St. Bartholomew’s, and Fifth Avenue Presbyterian, so Dr. Ryden in all honesty discusses hymns that have brought joy to the lowly people of the Cremorne Mission as well as the classical hymns that once brought joy to such men as G. Edward Stubbs, T. Tertius Noble, and Percy Dearmer. He has a good word for them all.

Perhaps Dr. Ryden’s most important contribution to hymnal makers of the future is to be found in his 13 chapters on Scandinavian hymns and their writers. Denmark, Sweden, and Norway have produced many splendid hymns, most of which are unknown to the average American. Dr. Ryden discusses them in detail, together with excellent translations. His chapters on the hymns of Finland and Iceland are valuable.

In his book Britain heads the list with 41 chapters on English, Scottish, Welsh, and Irish hymns. Hymns of American authorship are discussed in 33 chapters, German hymns are given 18 chapters, and hymns of the early Christian period nine chapters.

Dr. Ryden’s early newspaper training, and his 30 years as editor of a religious journal are evident in the graceful literary style of his book. There are a very few slips of the typewriter (hardly to be avoided in a first edition) and the typography is excellent; but one might wish that the initial letters were a bit smaller so that they would align with three lines of text.

A great work of the past is Hymns Ancient and Modern, Historical Edition (London, 1861, with several later editions). This is a huge volume, the size of two volumes of the Britannica. It contains the full text of every hymn, its original text, its musical setting (or settings), with critical and biographical notes, and often a facsimile of the original hymn in its author’s handwriting. This great work contains no twentieth century material, and much the same may be said of Julian’s well-known book. Dr. Ryden brings the story down to date, and his familiarity with the significant contributions of Scandinavian hymn writers is a real contribution.

F. R. WEBBER

History And Faith

A New Quest of the Historical Jesus, by James M. Robinson (Alec R. Allenson, 1959, 128 pp., $2.25), is reviewed by George Eldon Ladd, Professor of Biblical Theology, Fuller Theological Seminary.

Germany may well be called the laboratory for the study of scientific theology. Most of the movements in theological and Biblical studies, which have affected the American theological scene for good or ill, have had their origin in Germany.

This little book, written by a young professor who has spent some four years in study on the Continent, interprets accurately and lucidly (if at times in rather Germanic English) the contemporary state of research in the “historical” Jesus.

Rudolf Bultmann has been the dominating figure in recent years. The Christian world was shocked by the conclusion of this great historian: “I do indeed think that we can now know almost nothing concerning the life and personality of Jesus …” (Jesus and the Word, Scribner’s, 1934, p. 8). Even Bultmann’s disciples were disturbed when he excluded the message of Jesus from New Testament theology and made it one of the presuppositions of this theology (Theology of the New Testament, Scribner’s, 1951, I, p. 3 ff.). In other words, the “historical” Jesus and his message are phenomena of Judaism and not the beginning of the New Testament Gospel. This extreme position has led Bultmann’s disciples to reopen “the quest of the historical Jesus” and to seek a new approach to the study of the history of the Gospels.

Nearly 20 years ago, the late C. C. McCown wrote, “The nineteenth century ended with the destruction of its characteristic ‘liberal’ portrait of Jesus. It would appear that after nearly 40 years, the twentieth century has discovered none at all of its own” (The Search for the Real Jesus, Scribner’s, 1940, p. 278). He went on to say that the basic problem was the understanding and interpretation of history. Professor Robinson shows how contemporary German scholarship, standing on the same presuppositions as those of Bultmann and McCown, is attempting a “break-through” of this impasse of skepticism to recover a “historical” Jesus. This attempt rests on a new understanding of history.

The old search for the “historical” Jesus was based on a positivistic approach to history. Historical study must be governed by certain “rules of the game,” and modern historiography pursued the method of objective scholarship governed by a scientific methodology freed from the limitations of dogma. In other words, the adjective “historical” did not mean “the Jesus who actually lived” but the Jesus capable of being recovered by a historiography governed by scientific presuppositions. In a word, “scientific” meant a naturalistic world-view which explained “historical” events by other known historical causes. Bultmann’s skepticism about the “historical Jesus” is really skepticism about the “historian’s Jesus,” not Jesus as he actually was.

The new quest is based on a new understanding of history which recognizes a dimension transcending the merely objective. “History is the act of intention, the commitment, the meaning for the participants, behind the external occurrence” (p. 67). History embodies meaning as well as fact. This has led to the conclusion that “Jesus intended to confront the hearers inescapably with the God who is near when he proclaimed ‘Repent, for God’s reign is near,’ i.e., that he intended a historical encounter with himself to be an eschatological encounter with God, and that he consequently understood his existence as that of bringer of eschatological salvation” (77).

This is refreshing and stimulating. The problem of the relationship between history and faith is the most important single question today in critical biblical studies. Liberalism tried to reconstruct a “historical” Jesus on the basis of a naturalistic historiography and failed. Certain types of recent theology may be accused of fleeing from history and attempting to establish a theology which is not dependent upon the relativities of history. Bultmann’s interpretation of the Gospel has often been criticized as not needing a historical Jesus of any sort. Now criticism is being driven back to the historical to seek something which has eluded it.

The heart of the Gospel is the redemptive acts of God in history. Here is history which modern historiography must critically examine; but here is also the work of God about which the historian qua historian can make no final judgment. Christ died; this is history. Christ died for our sins; this is theology. Christ rose from the dead; this is an event in history for which there can be no “historical” explanation, for the cause of the resurrection is not an antecedent historical event, but the unmediated act of God. Furthermore, the resurrection of Christ was not revivification, it is the appearance of a new order of life within history which nevertheless transcends all historical explanation and analogy. The Christian Gospel can never be brought altogether under control of historical science. Therein lies both the glory and the scandal of the Gospel.

GEORGE ELDON LADD

Sociological Theory

Trumpet Call of Reformation, by Oliver Read Whitley (Bethany Press, 1959, 252 pp., $3.95), is reviewed by James DeForest Murch.

There is a comparatively modern theory which suggests that all religious communions—Lutheran, Methodist, Presbyterian, Reformed—are the product of sociological pressures and processes. H. Richard Niebuhr develops this idea in his Social Sources of Denominationalism, by assuming that churches have their origin in social, economic, and cultural unrest, and then develop through successive stages from (1) movement to (2) sect, and eventually to (3) denominational status.

Dr. Whitley, who is a Disciple teaching in Methodist Iliff School of Theology, applies the theory to the Christian Churches (Disciples of Christ), and effectively cuts and fits their history into his preconceived pattern. If his premises are correct, he has made a very convincing case. The quality of Whitley’s work is attested by the fact that this manuscript received the Christian Board of Publication “First Award” in the 1958 “Bethany Book Contest.”

The book will probably be extensively used in the current effort of left wing Disciples to convert this 150-year-old “free church” movement into a centralized, closely-knit ecclesiastical structure which can easily be merged into the coming “ecumenical church.”

JAMES DEFOREST MURCH

Who Is The Real Niemöller?

Pastor Niemöller, by Dietmar Schmidt (Doubleday, 1959, 224 pp., $3.95), is reviewed by Harold B. Kuhn, Professor of the Philosophy of Religion, Asbury Theological Seminary.

It is ironical that the same traits of character which are praised in one connection may be condemned in another. Martin Niemöller commanded the admiration of the non-fascist world when he stood, a lone tree against the storm, in quiet defiance of the Nazis. Later, as he stood with equal firmness against the rearming of West Germany and against her participation in NATO, his former admirers were not so sure. One frequently hears the question, “Who is the real Martin Niemöller?” Dietmar Schmidt seeks to answer this question.

Our author finds a partial explanation for Niemöller’s character in his Westphalian extraction, together with his career as a U-Boat commander in World War I. Added to this was the highly significant feature of his call to the ministry. Yet one feels that all of these, taken together, scarcely account for the combined bravery and wisdom by which he endured nine years of imprisonment, chiefly at Sachsenhausen and Dachau. To him must have come a vision of a call to a unique task, a unique suffering.

Try as he will, Dietmar Schmidt cannot maintain the thesis that Martin Niemöller has trod with equally admirable step since 1945. Perhaps the issues of right and wrong have not been so clear since then. But the volume, taken as a whole, sketches for us a portrait which is unforgettable. After all, courage in the face of mortal danger outweighs what seems at times like Prussian and aristocratic stiffness.

H. B. KUHN

Clinical Education

An Introduction to Pastoral Counseling, edited by Wayne E. Oates (Broadman, 1959, 331 pp., $6), is reviewed by Theodore J. Jansma, Chaplain-Counselor of the Christian Sanatorium, Wyckoff, New Jersey.

This is a collection of papers by a group of seminary professors and hospital chaplains of the Southern Baptist Convention. It is intended as a textbook for classroom use, to help pastors in counseling work, and to encourage pastors to seek clinical training experience. The editor, Wayne E. Oates, is professor of Psychology and Religion at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary and has distinguished himself as author of numerous articles and books on pastoral care.

Although it is the work of 10 authors, it is not a symposium or a loose collection of articles and opinions. The book was carefully planned so that each writer deals with a specific aspect of pastoral counseling and contributes to a progression of thought. There are five main divisions—Counseling in the Context of the Church, The Personhood of the Pastoral Counselor, The Process and Procedures of Pastoral Counseling, Pastoral Counseling and the Ministry of the Word of God in Christ, Pastoral Counseling and the Educational Intentions of the Church. Each of these divisions is introduced by a brief statement of the goals contemplated in the division and the specific contribution each author will make. In spite of such careful outlining and division of labor, there is nevertheless overlapping and repetition which could hardly be avoided in a product of several minds.

As an “Introduction” this book is strong on the method of counseling, and that has much practical merit. In this reviewer’s opinion there is need for a more radical kind of “Introduction,” one that goes further back to the biblical roots. While in this book, as in others on pastoral care, there are many allusions and references to biblical principles and examples, there is practically no exposition of biblical principles and objectives for the pastoral office. The opening chapter on “The Heritage of the Pastoral Counselor” has barely three pages on the “heritage” of the Bible. The book does set forward a growing movement of systematic study of the pastoral ministry to the sick and emotionally troubled. It includes an appendix on “Standards for Clinical Pastoral Education” set up by the Southern Baptist Association on Clinical Pastoral Education.

THEODORE J. JANSMA

Dynamic Missions

Religion and Faith in Latin America, by W. Stanley Rycroft (Westminster, 1958, 208 pp., $3.75), is reviewed by Horace L. Fenton, Jr., Associate Director, Latin America Mission.

Dr. Rycroft knows Latin America through long years of experience as a missionary in that area. Besides, he is well acquainted with the literature that has been written concerning this part of the world and its spiritual needs. Out of this background, he has written a thought-provoking book which should help many readers to understand in a new way that it is not religion in a formal, ecclesiastical sense but living faith in a living Saviour that is the only hope of the men and nations of Latin America.

The author’s basic thesis is that there is a world of difference between religion and faith. He shows clearly that there never has been any dearth of religion in Latin America, either in the days before the coming of the Roman Catholic church or in the four centuries since the conquistadores introduced the religion of Spain. But of vital faith in Jesus Christ, as he is revealed in the Scriptures, Latin America has known little, until the coming of Protestant missions in comparatively recent times.

Dr. Rycroft’s principal point is not established by any extended attack on Roman Catholicism. He lets the facts of history speak for themselves; and in so doing, he comes to the inevitable conclusion that Romanism has failed to meet the needs of the people, and has provided another illustration of the bankruptcy of all religions, as compared to the riches found in the gospel of Christ.

Dr. Rycroft has no doubt about the challenge that faces us today: “The opportunities for proclaiming the Gospel in Latin America are perhaps greater than in any other area of the world” (p. 166). Nor does he have any question as to the adequacy of that Gospel: “No religion, no matter how elaborate and aesthetic, and no ecclesiastical system, however powerful, can lead Latin America toward a new day of justice, righteousness, freedom, understanding, and love. The power of the living Christ alone, untrammeled and free to work in the hearts of men, can purify, inspire, energize, and enable. Christ must be in all and through all, the beginning and the end … without new men in Christ, with a dynamic faith and a moral and spiritual purpose, Latin America cannot solve its outstanding problems or fulfill its destiny in a new day of promise and opportunity” (pp. 176, 177).

The reader may find himself wishing on occasion that the author had stated some things differently. He may disagree, for example, with Dr. Rycroft’s statement that “the number of missionaries under independent groups has increased beyond that of the denominations or regular mission boards, probably because the latter have sought in every way possible to develop national leadership by diverting funds for this purpose and also by turning over responsibility to the national churches” (p. 164). But these are basically matters of opinion, and the important thing is that this book exalts Christ and summons his people to do something for lands that were too long neglected by the Protestant churches.

HORACE L. FENTON, JR.

Mildly Liberal

The Doctrine of the Prophets, by A. F. Kirkpatrick (Zondervan, 1958, 537 pp., $4.95), is reviewed by Edward J. Young, Professor of Old Testament, Westminster Theological Seminary.

This work is a reprint of lectures delivered during the years 1886–1890 in the Chapel of Lincoln’s Inn upon the Bishop Warburton foundation. Kirkpatrick was a competent biblical scholar who exhibited a great interest in the prophets. He is also known for a commentary on the Psalms.

Kirkpatrick was a mildly liberal critic who accepted most of the tenets of the then regnant hypotheses. As the publisher notes on the cover, Kirkpatrick “subscribed to the multiple authorship of Isaiah.” The publisher remarks that in Kirkpatrick’s day the Dead Sea Scrolls were not known, although we question whether this discovery would have had much effect upon Kirkpatrick’s views of the authorship of Isaiah. But we commend the publisher for the honesty of his advertising.

The lectures are quite useful, but they must be read with discrimination. In too many places, it seems, Kirkpatrick has simply followed the line of the dominant criticism without having sufficiently evaluated and weighed the arguments for the position that the Scriptures are infallible and completely authoritative. I fear too that in certain instances he simply has not gone into matters thoroughly. For example, he does not begin to do justice to the Messianic interpretation of Isaiah 4. And to say the least, the treatment of Isaiah 7 leaves much to be desired. On the other hand, Kirkpatrick is far above many of his contemporaries in his remarks on Isaiah 9. Serious students of prophecy will, of course, consult these lectures; but when a new day in prophetic study dawns, it will be characterized by an acceptance of what the Bible says all along the line.

EDWARD J. YOUNG

Interpreting Scripture

Shield Bible Study Series: The Epistle to the Ephesians, by John H. Gerstner (84 pp., $1.50); The Epistle to the Galatians, by Floyd E. Hamilton (66 pp., $1.25); The Epistle to the Romans, by Gleason L. Archer (103 pp., $1.50, Baker Book House, 1958–9), are reviewed by Walter W. Wessel, Professor of New Testament, North American Baptist Seminary, Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

One does not have to read far in these study manuals to discover that they are anything but superficially done. This is not surprising since the authors are reputable scholars. Two of them (Archer and Gerstner) are professors in leading theological seminaries, and the third (Hamilton) has authored several well-written and significant books.

The purpose of the Shield Series, of which these three books are a part, is to provide inexpensive paper-bound manuals to serve as guides in the study of the Bible. They are geared for the use of any intelligent and inquiring student of the Bible. Each of the manuals listed above contains a brief introduction, selected bibliography, detailed outline, and brief but suggestive exposition of the book concerned.

Gerstner champions the Pauline authorship of Ephesians. His exposition is capably done with a generous assist from those two peerless expositors of Scripture, John Calvin of Geneva and Charles Hodge of Princeton.

Hamilton supports the North Galatian theory and curiously thinks that “advocates of the South Galatian theory date the epistle as early as A.D. 54” (p. 2), when in reality they date it as early as A.D. 48. A number of errors occur in his bibliography which should contain at least one recent definitive work on Galatians.

Archer’s exposition of Romans is carefully and competently accomplished with close attention given to the underlying Greek text. At times he startles his reader. For example, objecting on the basis of Romans 5:14 to the assumption that children dying in infancy merit heaven, he goes on to the amazing assertion that if the assumption were true, “a truly loving parent would be under obligation to commit infanticide in order to insure his child’s eternal welfare” (p. 31). This appears to be an unwarranted conclusion, since the basic obligation of any parent toward his children is not to insure their salvation (which only God can insure) but through them to glorify God, an obligation which is fulfilled by obedience (not disobedience—“Thou shalt not kill”) to God’s will.

The Bible is a book not only to be read but to be studied! The serious student will find much help in the Shield Bible Study Series.

WALTER W. WESSEL

An Exegetical Approach

The Holy Spirit and the Holy Life, by Chester K. Lehman (Herald Press, Scottdale, Pennsylvania, 1959, 220 pp., $3.50), is reviewed by Stuart Cornelius Hackett, Professor of Philosophy, Louisiana College, Pineville, Louisiana.

“How does Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit transform sinful man into His own likeness?” With this question our author, who is professor of theology at Eastern Mennonite College, Harrisonburg, Virginia, sets the tone for his whole discussion. The answer to the question involves the analysis of the Holy Spirit’s encounters with man and of the character of the holy life in contrast to man’s sinful predicament, as these concepts are reflected in the successive strata of Old and New Testament literature and as they receive clarification in the history of Christian theology. Dr. Lehman’s discussion, reflecting his long experience as a teacher of biblical studies, is closely and intricately scriptural throughout: the whole presents the reader with a continuous citation and explanatory analysis of relevant biblical passages. While this close attention to Scripture sometimes involves a tendency toward extensive quotation without a correspondingly extensive systematic exegesis (p. 24 f., 109 f.), it nevertheless has the advantage of putting at the reader’s disposal a wealth of biblical material for further study, while at the same time the author uses this close concern with Scripture as a means of presenting a number of excellent exegetical interpretations of certain basic biblical terms such as righteousness, holiness, sanctification, and love (p. 12 f., 81 f.).

Although the approach is thus exegetical rather than theological, the author makes his opinions clear that God’s encounters with man through his Spirit are thoroughly ethical in nature (Chapter II); that the two Testaments present a unified, though progressively developing picture of God’s holiness, man’s sin, and human redemption through the transforming agency of the Spirit (pp. 20, 21, 26); that the New Testament doctrine of Baptism with the Spirit is characteristically the work of the Holy Spirit in regeneration and not a second crisis experience in the believer’s relation to Christ (p. 101); that sanctification involves both a formal aspect in which the believer is reckoned righteous through union with Christ by faith and a progressive aspect in which the believer’s moral nature is gradually transformed—although no believer ever actually achieves the standard of holiness in this life (pp. 113, 116, 120); and that repentance and faith, while made possible through God’s free and universal grace to all, are specifically conditions that man himself must meet through his own decision as prerequisites to regeneration by the Spirit (pp. 56–62, 152–153). Thus Dr. Lehman opposes, in the name of Scripture, the extreme dispensationalist contrast between the Old and New Covenants as related to the believer’s personal salvation, the doctrine of a “second definite work of grace,” the Wesleyan concept of entire personal sanctification (perfectionism), the Calvinistic doctrines of efficacious grace and unconditional election, and the Arminian concept of self-contained natural ability. On the other hand, few if any of these affirmations and denials are discussed in the critical atmosphere that would characterize an adequate systematic theology: and in general it is correct to say that the approach is primarily expository and devotional rather than theological and critical, though an exception to this point is approached in the discussions of Wesleyan perfectionism and Arminian natural ability.

This general absence of systematic theological orientation is doubtless the basis for whatever negative criticisms we might be disposed to offer. There is, for example, a rather conspicuous vagueness on certain theological points which should be clear in any such work: the essential relation of the Holy Spirit to Deity is hinted at (pp. 6, 7) but never clearly analyzed; that Adam’s sin had an effect on posterity is asserted (pp. 10, 78), but we look in vain for any precise definition of this effect or of its moral basis; that Christ’s anointing by the Holy Spirit was the basis, in some sense, of his redeeming power, is repeatedly asserted (pp. 34–44, 52), but the problem of the relation between the Holy Spirit’s function in Christ’s ministry and the divine nature of Christ himself is not even mentioned; and finally, in a work that continually emphasizes the theme of redemption through Christ, the lack of a discussion of Christ’s Deity, as related to his mediatorship, is keenly felt. In connection with the last point, this reviewer feels an even deeper inadequacy: while the author speaks much of the believer’s justification through union with Christ, his explanation of this union seems primarily concerned with the believer’s personal relationship of faith in Christ; at no point that I can find is there any clear explanation of Christ’s death as a vicarious satisfaction or of the believer’s justification as based on the imputation of Christ’s righteousness. But these criticisms, while they detract from the value of the discussion, may simply be the results of the lack of theological orientation previously mentioned; and they should not therefore prevent the reader from appreciating the spiritual warmth and intellectual stimulus which, in this work, urge every Christian believer to a more total commitment to Christ as Lord and as supreme Exemplar of the Spirit-filled life.

S. C. HACKETT

Evangelical Preaching

Evangelical Sermons of our Day, edited by Andrew W. Blackwood (Harper, 1959, 383 pp., $5.95) is reviewed by James DeForest Murch.

This volume contains 37 messages from men who “preach the Word.” A recent survey revealed that 75 percent of the ministers in the United States consider themselves evangelicals. Dr. Blackwood’s selection is a fair cross-section of this sector of Protestantism.

There are names like V. Raymond Edman, Peter Eldersveld, Billy Graham, Oswald C. J. Hoffman, Leslie R. Marston, Harold J. Ockenga, Alan Redpath, Paul S. Rees, Samuel M. Shoemaker, and Cary N. Weisiger, III. This is sufficient assurance of the quality and value of the sermons in the book. The editor makes no claim for their “greatness,” but gives them a higher commendation—“good and faithful.”

The sermons are grouped into six sections: (1) The Background of the Gospel, (2) With Christ Before Calvary, (3) With Christ Near His End, (4) With Christ After the Ascension, (5) With Christ in Later Epistles, and (6) With Christ in the Unknown Future. Evidently they were not prepared with such an outline in view but naturally tended to speak, as true evangelical sermons must, in terms of Jesus Christ as Saviour and Lord. Despite the fact that some of the preachers are of Arminian persuasion, some of Calvinistic, and others of eclectic theology, they all reveal a love for the same Lord and declare the same basic Gospel.

Marks of good evangelical preaching may be seen in dependence on Holy Scripture in text and doctrine, stress on the saving Gospel, food for Christian nurture, practical application to life problems, and the message of Christian hope. Always there is the note of divine authority. These men speak not “as the scribes and the Pharisees” but with an inner conviction and confidence that inspires faith and brings decision for Christ.

Ministers who read the volume will thrill at Shoemaker’s sermon calling for decision for Christ in the Battell Chapel at Yale; at Kirkland’s bold dealing with the burden of the Seventh Commandment; at the “tone color” and heart appeal of Rees’ “The Service of Silence”; at Graham’s evangelistic entreaty in terms of God’s grace; at the high challenge of Ockenga’s “Jesus, the Christian’s Example,” and other great preaching.

As the book goes into the hands of young ministerial students, they will be inspired to measure up to the stature of “good and faithful” preaching. Ministers of long standing will find help and encouragement in maintaining superior pulpit standards. Even the “brethren in the pew” who enjoy good preaching will find here a feast of good things.

JAMES DEFOREST MURCH

Covenant Implications

The Biblical Basis for Infant Baptism, by Dwight Hervey Small (Revell, 1959, 191 pp., $3.50), is reviewed by John Murray, Professor of Systematic Theology, Westminster Theological Seminary.

When Mr. Small says in his Preface that it is “a conciliatory spirit that motivates” him in writing this book (p. 6), we must not think that there is any lack of forthright vigor in presenting the biblical evidence supporting his theses. This volume is polemic in the truest sense, and the author in admirable fashion marshals the arguments for infant baptism and for sprinkling as a scriptural mode of administration.

Those who may be disposed to recoil from a traditional formulation of Covenant Theology are hereby advised that what is found on pages 15–29 is not characteristic of the rest of the volume. The whole discussion from that point on is based directly on Scripture and there is nothing stiff or stereotyped. In reference to the question at issue, Mr. Small’s insistance upon the Abrahamic covenant as “normative for the understanding of God’s redemptive purposes” (p. 34) and upon the unity of the covenant of grace is supported by a thoroughly competent and refreshing treatment of the biblical data. Having established this basic thesis, his argument proceeds not only to draw out the implications but also to adduce from Scripture the many considerations which show the perpetuity of that covenant provision exemplified in the Abrahamic covenant by the circumcision of infants.

Small is well aware of the abuses so frequently associated with infant baptism. “It is an appalling thing,” he says, “that countless thousands participate in infant baptism in our churches who are never instructed in the promises or the obligations!… It is cause for deep repentance upon the part of ministers of Reformed Churches” (p. 48). And his plea for covenant nurture is worthy of letters in gold. “God establishes His covenant with parents not only for their assurance as to what He will do, but also for their strengthening for what they must do” (p. 53). “Parental faith in God’s promise will always be known by parental faithfulness to God’s will” (p. 54).

Small’s treatment of mode in Part II (pp. 119–191) excels in fairness and competence. Scarcely any relevant biblical usage or passage is overlooked. He leaves us in no doubt as to the propriety of sprinkling or pouring, and shows that these are the modes congruous with the symbolism intended.

There are indeed details to which this reviewer takes exception. Small’s endorsement, for example, of the “principle of presumption” (p. 80; cf. pp. 64, 87), though espoused by some of the greatest Reformed theologians, is not one that, in the reviewer’s esteem, can be validated. But apart from some incidentals, here is an eminently worthy addition to the library on baptism, and it is timely.

JOHN MURRAY

Temporary Or Permanent?

Persuaded to Life: Conversion Stories from the Billy Graham Crusades, by Robert O. Ferm (Revell, 1958, 192 pp., $2.50), is reviewed by Faris D. Whitesell, Professor of Practical Theology, Northern Baptist Seminary.

Does large scale mass evangelism produce permanent and worthwhile results? Professor Robert O. Ferm of Houghton College has written this book to prove that it does. He has collected and verified the conversion experiences of a large number of people who professed faith during the Billy Graham Crusades. These experiences are typical of countless others unknown to the general public.

Dr. Ferm’s material is interesting, varied, and conclusive. As one reads the accounts, largely in the words of the converts themselves, he cannot help but be impressed by their genuineness and sincerity. All walks of life and all ages are represented.

This book has created several profound impressions in the mind of the reviewer, and probably will do the same for any sympathetic reader.

1. The gospel of Christ has not lost its ancient power. It is still the power of God unto salvation to everyone who hears and believes (Rom. 1:16). The big problem is how to catch the ear and attention of the careless, Christless multitudes.

2. The Billy Graham Crusades have reached many who never would have been reached in any other way. The size and publicity of the Crusades aroused interest and drew attendances.

3. True conversion is sudden. All of these people made sudden and drastic breaks with the old life. Many experiences and much time may be necessary to prepare the way and to lead up to conversion, but when it comes it is abrupt.

4. The power of the Holy Spirit is in the Billy Graham meetings. The straightforward, clear gospel preaching came with tremendous impact to show sinners that they were lost and that they needed Jesus Christ. Elements of mystery, reverence, and supernaturalness surround the invitation. Many never expected to go forward, but harriers seemed to melt away, and they joined the hundreds of others streaming to the front. The convicting, wooing power of the Spirit alone accounts for it.

Pastors and Sunday School teachers will find many fine illustrations in this book, and students of psychology and evangelism will find it full of challenging material.

FARIS D. WHITESELL

New Version

The Christ of the Gospels, by William F. Beck (Concordia, 1959, 224 pp., $3), is reviewed by E. P. Schulze, Minister of the Lutheran Church of Our Redeemer, Peekskill, New York.

Luther’s endeavor in translating the Bible was to make the holy writers speak German. His translation was strongly idiomatic but in many cases a very free rendering of the originals. It is apparent that Dr. Beck is attempting with success to make the inspired scribes speak English. Beck, too, has taken pains with idiom, and in the present work he has produced a free and somewhat periphrastic translation of the four Gospels combined into one chronologically arranged account.

Dr. Beck has been working for years upon a translation of the entire Bible. A scholar, familiar with textual criticism, may often be deficient in popular appeal, but this book, along with specimen printings of his translation of Ruth and of Galatians, indicates that in his literary style he has the common touch. When pastors of the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod in the Detroit area were asked to compare 57 passages in the Revised Standard Version with the same verses in Beck’s translation, and then without being informed from which of the two the texts were taken, they were questioned, “Which is the language of the people?”—the vote was 3,558 to 162 in favor of Beck’s version.

As this volume was reviewed from the uncorrected proofs, I cannot evaluate details of the published work. The general effect is one of easy readability, though perhaps somewhat too colloquial in places to suit all tastes. It is to be hoped that this book will stimulate an appetite for Beck’s complete Bible.

E. P. SCHULZE