Analogies To The Good News
Peace Child, by Don Richardson (Regal, 1974, 329 pp., $7.95, $3.95 pb), is reviewed by Kenneth Pike, professor of linguistics, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor.
Reader’s Digest has selected Peace Child for its condensed book feature for the December, 1975, issue. The book is much more than just a thrilling story.
Don Richardson’s thesis is that “redemptive analogies, God’s keys to man’s cultures, are the New Testament-approved approach to cross-cultural evangelism.” He uses his experience with the Sawi tribe in Irian Jaya (then Dutch New Guinea, now part of Indonesia) as a paradigm. He did not want to “resort to the ‘schooling’ method used by some, in which one simply writes off the present generation as unteachable, concentrating instead on enrolling hundreds of children in schools, where a steady Christian influence over many years aims at a second-or third-generation victory.” He chose instead to meet them within their culture.
Among the Sawi, “the idealization of treachery” was a part of their view of life. Treacherous men were “the epitome of Sawi manhood.” When told the story of the crucifixion of Jesus, they proclaimed Judas as the hero of the story, whistling with admiration and chuckling with delight at the ability of Judas to do this by himself without other disciples’ suspecting anything. The action of Judas was “real tuwi asonai man.” This term seemed to contain the key to an understanding of the whole central cultural complex and (as one of them said) “means to do with a man as Hato is doing with that pig—to fatten him with friendship for an unsuspected slaughter!” It was the deliberate cultivation of apparent friendship in order that its betrayal might seem the sweeter, and might better enter into future legends of successful planned treachery, with the eating of the enemy’s flesh in hilarious celebration. And within this pattern, “always it was the women who supplied that gratifying adulation which made the risking of one’s life worthwhile.” The Sawi “honored cruelty” such that their “highest pleasure depended upon the misery and despair of others.”
Yet there were clear pointers to the fact that their consciences knew that treachery was wrong. These expressions came, most of all, from friends of the damaged parties, who were grieved by the deliberate acts. A dirge from the wife of a killed one expresses this:
O who will deal with the children of treachery?
O who will overcome those who use friendship to fatten their victims?
O what will it take to make them cease?
Counter killings, made in revenge, showed that their consciences clearly labeled such action treachery. Similarly, in the revenge eating of human flesh by new partakers, there was squeamishness and dread that was overcome only after long chiding by the more experienced.
The habit of reacting with anger is not acquired late in life, nor by accident. Rather “the Sawi child is trained to obtain his will by sheer force of violence and temper. He is goaded constantly to take otaham, ‘revenge,’ every time he is hurt or insulted.”
But the thing that puzzled Richardson “was why there were any Sawi left at all,” what with killings along with high infant mortality. The culture seemed to be self-annihilating, “prevented only by its fragmentation into small mutually isolated communities.”
He could see no analogy here between what they lived and the Gospel. To his astonishment, however, Richardson found that he had been wrong. A counter ideal existed alongside this treachery that provided a mechanism leading to peace. He had “thought of the Sawi culture as based on a single pillar—a total idealization of violence,” but he now found that “somewhere in prehistory the ancestors of the Sawi had accomplished what the theory said could not be done. They had found a way to prove sincerity and establish peace even in the dread context of tuwi asonai man.” Specifically, “if a man would actually give his own son to his enemies, that man could be trusted!” This was accomplished (as he saw demonstrated) by a heart-rending ceremony in which eventually, after internal struggle, a man would grab a young son, and offer him to his enemies. The enemies, if genuinely desirous of peace, would in turn find that one of their number would offer one of his sons to the first group. The members of the receiving respective communities would then in turn lay hands on the adopted son. “And everyone who laid his hand on the given son was bound not to work violence against those who gave him.”
This was the key Richardson had been praying for. Returning to the story of Judas, discussed in this context, Jesus was now seen to be the tarop, the peace child, and Judas the breaker of their most solemn, sacred agreement. As they put it, “But you said a friend betrayed him. If Jesus was a Tarop (peace child), it was very wrong to betray him. We have a name for that. We call it tarop gaman. It’s the worst thing any one could do.” Hence Richardson continues, “Before this moment Judas had been a super-Sawi. Now he was a villain.”
This bridge over the cultural gap allowed deep understanding by the tribesmen of the crucial point. “From now on, any Sawi who rejected Christ would see himself not as denying an alien concept, but rather rejecting the Fulfiller of the best in his own culture!”
This particular custom did not carry across tribal boundaries unchanged, but similar bridges could be found. In a neighboring group, the Kayagar, they eat the peace child, instead of just laying hands on it. As one of the men explained, “That way an accidental death of the child [which breaks the peace covenant] does not end the peace, because he is living inside everyone!”
Often the people’s sensibilities were offended by their own customs. For instance, after the body of a beloved one who had died had been put up in a tree and allowed to decay, one man was required to handle some of the mass even though he was filled with revulsion. It was called, by them, “touching the stench.” Such ceremonies might be accompanied by a wail: “Words of remon!… Why are you delaying so long? Because of your delay, death has taken my son away.” They explained, “Remon is what happens when a caterpillar escapes from death by transforming into a moth … to live on in a new body. It also describes the way a lizard or a snake escapes death by shedding its old skin.” There is a legend behind this custom:
A lizard and a karasu bird had an argument. The lizard, as the symbol of remon, said men should remain free from the power of death. The bird, because it dies so easily, was the symbol of death.… [A] snake kept saying, “rimi! rimi! renew!” These were the words of remon. But the bird kept saying “sanay! sanay! decay! decay!” … The lizard gave in, and from that time on began to die; but, the ancestors said, “someday the words of remon will come back to us. After that, those still alive will renew their bodies like the lizard and the caterpillar. There will be no more death” [pp. 301–3],
So, the men argued, perhaps “when mankind has reached the fullest measure of sorrow, the words of remon will come the more quickly.” Richardson feels that the men here parallel the attempt of men elsewhere where the “same psychological bent may be expressed in such ways as an accident proneness, penance, protest fasting, flagellation or self-imolation.” The Christian doctrine of the resurrection is the antidote to such despair, with the “Sawi belief in the future return of remon” as “the redemptive analogy through which that antidote could enter.”
Richardson feels that analogies are always present. But even more important theoretically, such elements can be studied to see that “Christ is the fulfiller of every man’s true self.” In the Asmat group, for example, there is a ceremony in which boys pass through a “passage formed by the bodies of the six fathers and mothers,” which is a “symbolic communal birth canal.” The boys are “reborn into the kinship system of the enemy village” with peace “through a new birth experience.”
Such elements, Richardson feels, are to be seen as parallel in principle to Paul’s reference to the unknown god of the Atheneans, or to the Logos mentioned by John, or to legends of a deluge.
Richardson has made his case more forcefully than I could do, although I have been interested in the problem for fifteen years or more, arguing in unpublished seminar papers that Christ could compete with every man’s ideal neighbor. At first, I had thought that it was possible to say merely ideal man, but I soon had to change, for reasons similar to those met by Richardson. The goal of grasping for power and dominance with resultant ideal power status must not be confused with the ideal of the kind of man one would want his neighbor to be when one is away and must leave his family at home. Yet even in the first, it seems to me, God accepts any challenge thrown down to him. He can meet power with power, if that is necessary to the process of convincing, whether now or in the final showdown. But, for us, he insists that our ideal of greatness be that of a servant (Matt. 20:25–28).
Richardson’s book performs a great service in implying that some of our study should be channeled toward understanding systems of conscience, systems of values, systems of anger-inducing situations, systems of hurt assuagement, and the underlying universal principles of conscience that are shared across cultures (and presumably are genetically present by God’s creative ordinance, even though there is great variation from culture to culture).
Incidentally, I am writing this review from Irian Jaya, where I have just met Richardson (who is working with the Regions Beyond Missionary Union) and also watched the showing of the film with the same title as the book (available through Gospel Films). The film is well worth seeing, impressive in photography and in reconstruction of some of these events, with Richardson and his wife playing themselves. For the study of this kind of problem in depth, however, the book itself is needed. I do not know of anything to compare with it in theory or in practice.
BRIEFLY NOTED
Bible Characters and Doctrines, sixteen volumes, by E. M. Blaiklock et al. (Eerdmans, 128 pp. each, $1.75 each pb). With the recent appearance of the last two volumes this set of guides for a four-year-long daily study of the Bible is now complete. Each volume serves for three months and contains both doctrinal studies (e.g., man and sin, the character of God, the Holy Spirit) and studies of biblical persons—well known, anonymous, and representative. Blaiklock has done all of the latter, and a number of evangelical Bible teachers alternated on the doctrinal studies. Highly recommended.
Facing Grief and Death, by William Tuck (Broadman, 153 pp., $3.95). A practical aid from a Christian perspective on ministering to the bereaved.
So Many Versions?, by Sakae Kubo and Walter Specht (Zondervan, 244 pp., $2.95). Extremely helpful descriptions, comparisons, and evaluations of sixteen major recent translations of the Bible (or large portions of it) into English. Includes an annotated list of scores of minor translations.
Fact and Faith: Coming to Grips with Miracles in the New Testament, by David Bartlett (Judson, 144 pp., $3.95 pb). If preachers and teachers make allowances for Bartlett’s being a little more skeptical than he needs to be, this book can provide useful insights for proclaiming the miracles as signs rather than simply as marvels.
Genesis and Early Man, by Arthur Custance (Zondervan, 331 pp., $8.95). Seven papers in defense of a literal Adam and Eve who lived a few thousand years ago. The author is well informed about and accepts the valid data used by scientists to “prove” the antiquity of man, but interprets the data quite differently. For a review of the first volume, Noah’s Three Sons, in this series, The Doorway Papers, see August 8 issue, page 28.
The New Testament Student, edited by John Skilton, has been launched as an irregularly appearing journal with original and reprinted articles by evangelicals for those who are serious Bible students but not necessarily academic specialists. It is hoped that reports of meetings and projects can be included. Standing orders are available at $3/issue (P.O. Box 185, Nutley, N. J. 07110). The first volume, entitled “Studying the New Testament Today,” has 204 pages and includes nine major articles plus information on New Testament studies at Westminster Seminary.
Schizophrenia: A Source of Social Insight, by Brian W. Grant (Westminster, 252 pp., $10). A seminary teacher and counselor gives a sympathetic and scholarly study of schizophrenics, suggesting positive contributions to be found from their abnormal behavior. Some scriptural examples are used. The author wonders, “Are we that radically different from those whose madness periodically erupts to the surface of their lives?” Thought-provoking.
Enriching Exegesis
The Gospel According to St. Luke, by Leon Morris (Eerdmans, 1974, 349 pp., $3.95 pb), is reviewed by H. Leo Eddleman, professor of Old Testament, Criswell Bible Institute, Dallas, Texas.
Leon Morris’s extensive familiarity with Luke’s writing and his loyalty to it shine through this volume, which is a fitting conclusion to the series of Tyndale New Testament Commentaries. The lengthy introduction may be amply justified by its thorough treatment of the purpose of this Gospel and some few determinative critical problems. Morris recognizes that only in recent years has much attention been drawn to the fact that Luke alone of the four gospel writers has a “sequel to his Gospel.” Apparently the other three writers of the life and ministry of Christ felt that the story could hold its own without being buttressed by an account of what happened after the ascension. Accordingly, Luke appears to Morris as practically obsessed with the idea that “God is working out his purpose. This purpose is seen clearly in the life and work of Jesus, but it did not finish with the ministry of Jesus. It carried directly into the life and witness of the church.”
Luke’s frequent use of dei and boule or “purpose” (nine out of the twelve uses of the word in the New Testament are Luke’s) clearly reflects the sense of urgency and divine imperative he saw in the ministry of Jesus. The Church is not a new departure in the sense of being irrelevant to what had gone before. Rather is it the inevitable outcome of what Jesus “began”: his life, ministry, death, resurrection, and ascension. What happened after the ascension is to the life and work of Christ what his resurrection is to his death. A glaring gap is there without sequel. Morris causes one to wonder why the other gospel writers had nothing to say about “those first days in Jerusalem,” Pentecost, and the going forth into other regions with the Gospel.
Morris is obviously at home in Luke’s language. But he does not try to prove too much by Greek words, grammar, and etymology. His treatment of the series of “woes” in Luke 11:42–54 exemplifies the depth, taste, and accuracy with which he produces positive and enriching exegesis.
For reference, for serious study, for preparation of expository preaching, this volume will be a boon to anybody’s library.
Guidelines For Teen-Age Behavior
Compass For Conscience, by Dave Grant (Revell, 1975, 94 pp., $2.50 pb), is reviewed by Norman L. Geisler, professor of philosophy of religion, Trinity Evangelical Divinity School, Deerfield, Illinois.
Dave Grant, a former Campus Crusade worker, asserts that his book is “not intended to be any kind of authority on morality.” He correctly describes the approach as “more like counseling.” He takes the cue from C. S. Lewis’s suggestion that morality is like a fleet of ships where there are three considerations: Is the ship seaworthy? How can ships avoid running into each other? What is their common goal? Our day, Grant feels, has stressed the second to the neglect of the first and the last. He tries to give attention to all three.
Grant strongly stresses motivation as a key to ethical decision-making; “the morality of decision-making is more concerned with the why than the what,” he writes. He is not unaware of the problem this causes when “situational ethics says if your motive is love then your behavior will be all right.” This is only half right, he says.
He proposes three reference points for ethical decision-making: man’s goal, man’s purpose, and the motivation. He does not discuss absolute moral norms but does assert that “there are no absolute behavior forms in morality.”
Grant successfully avoids legalism, asceticism, and situationism, but his aversion for rules leaves him open to the charge that he overlooks, if not neglects, the need for absolute ethical laws in decision-making.
The primary value of the book lies in its use of provocative illustrations and catchy phrases to drive home an ethical point. The book is readable and valuable, especially for a teen-age audience. It covers sex, alcohol, drugs, smoking, and pornography, and touches on some other topics.
Regrettably, the author falls prey to the all too common affirmation that all sins are equal, forgetting that Jesus spoke of “weightier matters of the law (Matt. 23:2) and of the “greater sin” vs. lesser ones (John 19:11). All in all, the book is a biblical, non-legalistic guide for young people with convincing illustrations and penetrating questions on some important questions facing them today.
Understanding Yourself
Put It All Together, by Maurice Wagner (Zondervan, 1974, 162 pp., $4.95), and Guilt and Freedom, by Bruce Narramore and Bill Counts (Vision House, 1974, 159 pp., $4.95), are reviewed by Lee Roddy, La Canada, California.
These two books cover the broad, serious field of what makes us tick. Put It All Together is written in nontechnical language for readers who want help in resolving feelings of insecurity. It is also for those who want to learn more about emotional problems so they can help others.
Maurice Wagner is a professional counselor with a Ph.D. in psychology. He traces our self-deception from childhood, when we learn to hide our true emotions (“Tell the man you’re sorry”), through the beginning and growth of guilt. Keeping close to Scripture, he offers ways to rearrange priorities and establish good relationships with others. He talks about the two great commandments in Matthew 22:37–40 and concludes that a new sense of security is possible through obedience to these priorities specified by Christ.
This is a book for digging, not for leisurely reading, but the reward is more than sufficient. The reader will have a fuller understanding of how he got the way he is, how he can change, and how he can be at peace—not only with God and man but with himself.
Guilt and Freedom digs into early masquerades that cause guilt and self-acceptance. The authors describe many real-life situations, and readers quickly identify with real problems and see how they were solved. Narramore teaches psychology at the Rosemead Graduate School of Psychology in California. Counts is co-director of the Light and Power House, a Christian training center for youth in California. He also lectures part-time at Rosemead.
The authors look into our own stern accusations of self (“You’re guilty; you’re a failure”). They go on to show that freedom from guilt is central to God’s plan. The Bible does not say that Christians are to have a fear of punishment, a sense of worthlessness, or feelings of rejection. A Christian with unresolved guilt carries about a destructive force that causes spiritual deadness and defeat.
The authors examine the basis for guilt-free living, lay a foundation for a healthy self-esteem, and conclude with information on how readers can be freed from fears of punishment and rejection. The reward is unbroken fellowship with the Creator.
New Periodicals
The Bulletin of the Christian Association for Psychological Studies made its debut with the Summer, 1975, issue, and included five papers read at the annual meeting last April (on marital reconciliation, witness at a secular campus, guilt, premarital sex, and behavior modification) together with news of the 750-member association. For membership and subscription information write the executive secretary at 27000 Farmington Road, Farmington Hills, Michigan 48024.
Although edited from a conservative Roman Catholic perspective, a new thrice-yearly journal, Faith and Reason, should be in the libraries of all seminaries and colleges with religious-studies programs. The six articles of the first issue (Spring, 1975) include critiques of the theology of liberation and of contemporary amoralism. The second issue looks at abortion and the constitution and evaluates Tillich’s Christology. The intention is to be scholarly yet readable for non-specialists ($7.70/year; Box 192, Pembroke State University, Pembroke, N. C. 28372).
