Whatever Happened To Noah’S Ark?
In Search of Noah’s Ark, by Dave Balsiger and Charles E. Sellier, Jr. (Sun Classic Books [11071 Massachusetts Ave., Los Angeles, Calif. 90025], 1976, 218pp., $1.95 pb), The Ark on Ararat, by Tim F. LaHaye and John D. Morris (Thomas Nelson or Creation-Life, 1976, 287 pp., $4.95), and Search For Noah’s Ark, by Kelly L. Segraves (Beta Books, 1975, 128 pp., $1.45 pb), are reviewed by John Warwick Montgomery, professor-at-large, Melodyland Christian Center, Anaheim, California.
No responsible in situ questing for the Ark has taken place since the revised edition of my Quest For Noah’s Ark described the latest efforts in 1974. But the obduracy of the Turkish government in refusing access to Ararat has not discouraged popular writers on the subject, as the three books under review illustrate. All of them of necessity rely heavily on previously published material and add little or nothing of substance to what was already known, and all of them appeal to a popular rather than scholarly audience; but armchair arkeologists will want to obtain them to complete their collections on the subject.
Balsiger and Sellier’s work is a journalistic production rapidly thrown together to provide a book to sell in the lobbies of theaters that show Sun Classic Pictures’ film on the Ark. The film itself, which uses mountain footage obtained in our Ararat expeditions, interviews with explorers such as this reviewer, and a variety of other pertinent material, is generally well done, faithful to the Scriptures, and worth seeing. The Balsiger and Sellier non-book, however, is a very doubtful production. Chapter 5 (“Early Sightings of Noah’s Ark”) simply cribs five and a half pages of my original translations of ancient Greek, Latin, and French sources without acknowledgment! The inaccuracy of the book is reflected in its assertion that I “set up” Senator Moss to announce a possible satellite confirmation of the Ark’s continued existence on Ararat. In point of fact, Moss contacted me, and I never claimed that the satellite imagery was definitive—though I said it may well be corroborative.
The Ark on Ararat by LaHaye and Morris is a physically attractive volume containing many illustrations and photographs that will appeal to the “Bible bookstore” clientele already familiar with LaHaye’s popular books on family and personal spirituality. Its problems are twofold: first, like Balsiger and Sellier’s work, it makes pretensions of scholarship without being able to sustain them. Morris continually passes himself off as an experienced Ararat explorer, whereas his Adventure on Ararat (as he entitled his booklet describing his 1972 experience on the mountain) consisted of climbing about without medical backup, getting struck by lightning, and irritating the natives. LaHaye and Morris’s lack of scholarship is illustrated by their reliance on others’ clumsy translations of original sources. A more serious objection is their continual refrain—so typical of Christian Heritage College and the Institute for Creation Research—that “evolutionists fear the Ark.” I hold no brief for evolutionary theory, but I find the monomaniacal belief that Ark searching may vindicate “creationists” comparable to the idea that “fighting Communism” is a form of Christian apologetics.
Kelly Segraves’s Search For Noah’s Ark is a delight simply because it doesn’t presume to be more than it is: a popular picture book (every other page a photo or illustration) to tell simply the story of the Ark’s probable survival. Just the thing to go with your youngster’s model Ark!
Thielicke’S Theology
The Evangelical Faith, by Helmut Thielicke (Eerdmans, 419 pp., $10.95), is reviewed by Robert Johnston, assistant professor of religion, Western Kentucky University, Bowling Green.
You may have overlooked this work. You shouldn’t have. Even though the second half is somewhat dated, being an otherwise excellent response to the supposed “death of God” movement (the German edition first appeared in 1968, when the “death of God” movement was still in vogue), and even though Thielicke has written in the worst of the German stylistic tradition (particularly in the provocative first half of the book), The Evangelical Faith deserves a wide reading among American evangelicals for at least five reasons.
First, Helmut Thielicke is perhaps one of two leading theologians on the European continent who have affinities with the American evangelical tradition. Along with G. C. Berkouwer (a Calvinist), Thielicke (a Lutheran) has helped shape a whole generation of younger evangelicals in this country. Berkouwer’s serious academic work, Studies in Dogmatics, now stretches to fourteen volumes in English translation and has been well received. Thielicke’s influence, however, has up till now come not from any systematic theology but from his stimulating books of sermons, his wise pamphlet A Little Exercise For Young Theologians, and his wordy but thought-provoking studies in theological ethics (of which The Ethics of Sex is perhaps best known). Although his writing has been respected and influential, Americans have lacked from this leading conservative Lutheran any careful systematic statement of his theology. This volume, intended as the prolegomenon of a multivolume work, partially redresses this situation and fully secures Thielicke’s place in the front rank of systematic theologians of our day. In a time when theological writers shy away from large-scale dogmatic treatments, Thielicke has risked “the venture of recapturing the total picture or at least of recalling it, of giving a reminder of its existence.”
Second, Thielicke chooses in the first volume to address the question of the possibility and basis of theological knowledge by assessing contemporary theological trends. He feels it is necessary to dismiss the extremes of American fundamentalism and radical secularism, for they have forfeited an incarnational model of theology that holds kerygma and modern culture in tension. The rest of the theological spectrum can be divided into two main types, he feels. Recognizing differences, and taking care to differentiate between desired goal and actual effect, Thielicke performs the dangerous but helpful task of generalizing upon the current theological situation.
Dismissing the terms “modern” and “conservative,” Thielicke instead calls the two major theological approaches Cartesian theology and non-Cartesian theology. He argues that this change in terminology is necessary, for so-called moderns do not intend to jettison the center of historic Christianity and so-called conservatives do seek, like their counterparts, to express their theology in terms relevant to contemporary hearers.
Cartesian theology is labeled that way because it concentrates on the addressee of the Christian message—on the receiving “I.” Its interest tends to be hermeneutical, concentrating on the act and possibility of faith more than on the content of faith. The acts of understanding and appropriation by the human subject become Cartesian theology’s dominant motifs. Whether “rationality” (Lessing), “feeling” (Schleiermacher), “doubt” (Tillich), or “pre-understanding” (Bultmann), Cartesian theology makes use of an outside criterion by which to understand the kerygma. Such an approach is right, Thielicke states, in taking contemporary men and women’s adulthood, their emancipation, seriously. But it is wrong in allowing (sometimes contrary to its intent) the message of the Gospel to come under alien control.
Thielicke discusses this basic problem with Cartesian theology in several ways. He believes it is too concerned with preliminary questions, failing to see that the Holy Spirit working through the biblical text tosses aside our questions and gives us new ones. Cartesian theology wrongly pushes epistemological and methodological matters to the forefront, making them a filter for the content of the kerygma. Again, such a theology falsely gives thematic rank to the image of empirical man himself, as reflected in his self-understanding. Such a theology is in danger of becoming anthropology.
Instead Thielicke calls for a non-Cartesian theology. He says, “While the present situation and its questions have to be considered, they must not become a normative principle nor must they be allowed to prejudice the answer; they must be constantly recast and transcended in encounter with the text.” Such a theological approach is contemporary; it is also conservative, seeking to re-present the word. Appeal is made to the past, to old truth that has to be understood anew. Christians must be pointed away from themselves and toward salvation history, Thielicke believes. They must be oriented to Christ by having the past actualized and made present in us. This is the work of the Holy Spirit, creating men and women anew, as they are incorporated into the salvation event. Such an approach does not ignore human self-consciousness but sees it as becoming, through the Spirit, the object of a retrospective glance.
The third reason why I consider this book important for American evangelicals is that Thielicke’s prolegomena to his theology begins with the work of the Holy Spirit, not with a metaphysical statement concerning the nature of God himself. It is the Spirit that grants accessibility to revelation affecting the miracle of divine self-disclosure, of participation in God’s self-knowledge. Ontically, God’s being in himself does precede his self-disclosure to man, and systematic theologies have often reflected this absolute order of priorities. Thielicke, however, believes that noetically, to begin by speaking about God in himself is wrong, for ontology is “the final stage in reflection which begins with the actual encounter with God [through his Spirit]. It is thus a conclusion, not a preamble. It is the epilogue, not the prolegomena, to theology.”
There is a growing recognition in evangelical circles of the central position of the Holy Spirit in theological reflection. It will be interesting to see whether Thielicke, in his subsequent volumes, allows his concern for the Spirit to restructure traditional dogmatic orderings. If he does, the Church would benefit as it discovered what a contemporary Christian theology growing out of an experience of the Spirit might look like. A full-scale theology of the Spirit that is at the same time sensitive to the Word has not been written. Schleiermacher’s effort is perhaps the most spectacular failure. Certainly Thielicke has provided us here a provocative and faithful beginning.
Fourth, Thielicke concludes his book by stating, “The value of a dogmatics depends on whether it can be preached.” If that is so, and I believe it is, he has succeeded admirably in this volume. For example, his discussion of the experience of “God’s absence” as not being uniquely modern (he refers to Psalm 73, Job, and Mark 15:34) is provocative and worthy of sermonizing. So, too, his dialectical analysis of the prodigal son’s identity. His comparison of that text with Galatians 2:20 is suggestive. The book as a whole evidences an impressive grasp of the biblical text as well as the theological and philosophical tradition, a desire to be faithful to the Word as proclaimed, and an ability to apply theological insight to life today. The minister willing to work his way slowly through these pages will be rewarded for his effort, as will the congregation that listens to him.
Lastly, Thielicke has rightly addressed the matter of theology and culture. Recognizing that because all theological reflection belongs to the category of address it is time-bound, he sees the necessity of theological restatement by each generation. Therefore the question of theology and culture is not whether it is proper and necessary for the theologian to deal with our contemporary culture. He/she must. Rather, the question is whether in the act of contemporary restatement there has been accommodation of the Word to our modern age, or whether there has been a new actualization of the Word within our current context. Are we called anew “under the truth,” or do we put the truth “under us”?
Thielicke believes Cartesian theology’s focus on the question of appropriation shifts the emphasis away from the creative Word and instead seeks to draw that Word into mankind’s self-consciousness. Instead, a non-Cartesian theology of the Holy Spirit is called for, one based in proclamation of the divine self-disclosure. With such a theological approach, the divine Word creates its own hearers, the subjects of understanding through faith.
‘Bacic Youth Conflicts’
Gothard: The Man and His Ministry, An Evaluation, by Wilfred Bockelman (Quill/Mott Media [Box 236, Milford, Michigan 48042], 1976, 150 pp., $2.95 pb), is reviewed by Stephen E. Smallman, pastor, McLean Presbyterian Church, McLean, Virginia.
Almost everyone who is aware of the ministry of Bill Gothard would agree that his Basic Youth Conflicts seminars are a notable phenomenon of the current religious scene. An unknown youth worker in 1964, he is now ministering to hundreds of thousands nationwide. There would not be the same agreement, however, about the worth of those seminars and the ultimate value of the Gothard ministry.
Sensitive to the need for some perspective on Gothard, Wilfred Bockelman (director of communication research and special projects for the American Lutheran Church) has put together a carefully researched and thoughtfully written evaluation. He attended both beginning and advanced seminars, read all materials available, and tried, with some difficulty, to spend time with Gothard himself. The result is a sympathetic overview of the ministry as well as some telling criticisms.
Gothard’s reaction to the attempts of both author and publisher to talk to him about the content of the book leads us to the most significant criticism of his work. He declined to have anything to do with the final edition of the book because of “God’s way” in Matthew 18:15–18 (when a brother has sinned against another, he should deal with the matter first privately rather than in public). But Bockelman correctly questions that use of the passage: “When I say that I don’t agree with Bill Gothard in a particular matter, I am not saying that he has sinned against me.” This is one example of Gothard’s frequently problematic use of Scripture to reinforce principles he has deduced from Scripture.
Bockelman does not suggest there is any intentional distortion of scriptural truth, and the multitude of Gothard’s valuable insights, particularly into the Wisdom literature, must not be overlooked. But as one source cited by Bockelman notes, Gothard’s interpretations “are governed more by his personal experiences than he cares to admit.” What about biblical principles and themes that may not have impressed Gothard as important? For instance, Bockelman feels the lack of a focus on grace and the freedom we have in Christ. And is it valid to view the Bible fundamentally as a book of divine principles rather than as the Word through which we come to know and love the living God? Bockelman has some important questions about Gothard’s view of God (sovereign monarch rather than loving person), and his trichotomist view of man (and frequent equation of the physical with “flesh”), but the cutting edge of the evaluation comes back finally to the way Gothard uses Scripture.
For many evangelicals, the validity of this criticism will be undercut by the author’s own view of Scripture. He denies not only inerrancy (p. 51) but also the possibility of propositional revelation (p. 62). He is in the strange position of holding a low view of inspiration while advocating a high view of authority. Nevertheless, his evaluation of Gothard at this point rings true.
As a pastor I have profited greatly from the basic and advanced seminars and will continue to encourage others to attend. Bill Gothard is a gifted man whom God has used greatly—but that doesn’t mean he has all the answers. I agree with the three potential effects on people noted by Bockelman: (1) Basically healthy Christians derive great benefit from the teaching and feel free to question and reject what they feel to be inconsistent with Scripture. (2) Those who are inclined to have a rigid and legalistic view of life are fortified by Gothard’s ministry and tend to apply his principles woodenly. This is particularly true of the application of the “chain of command” principle to the home. (3) The casualties are those with low ego strength to begin with. Anecdotes are cited in such a way that they assume the formulas (for obtaining forgiveness, clearing the conscience, and the like) always work, and if the formulas don’t work for them, their already heavy load of guilt becomes crushing. Counselors complain that their case load rises dramatically soon after the seminar comes to their city.
I appreciate this balanced and thoughtful examination. Bill Gothard has presented his work to the public as a biblical ministry, and therefore he should welcome a public, biblical critique of it.
What Does James Mean?
The Epistle of James, by James B. Adamson (Eerdmans, 1976, 227 pp., $8.95), is reviewed by Peter Davids, assistant professor of biblical studies, Trinity Episcopal School for Ministry, Coraopolis, Pennsylvania.
I eagerly awaited a replacement for Ross’s commentary in the New International Commentary series, and Adamson’s 1954 doctoral thesis proves that he is capable of providing such a work. Yet now that the new volume lies before me, my reaction is mixed. Certainly the work does improve on Ross and will be very helpful to pastors and educated laypersons, but I fear that the research hardly moves us beyond C. L. Mitton’s 1966 commentary on the epistle.
Adamson’s introduction is direct and positive. He simply assumes that the Lord’s brother wrote the epistle and works from this assumption with such forcefulness that one might never suspect how hotly disputed it is. While he never dates the epistle, he clearly assigns it to “the earliest strata of Jewish Christianity.” His long discussion of James’s theology is similarly direct, though at times weakened by foreign words or classical citations unnecessary to his argument. The only real fault in the introduction is his failure to discuss the form of the epistle adequately.
The body of the work is generally satisfactory. The comments wrestle with the meaning of the text, and the application to the Christian life is one of the stronger features of the book. One need not read the editor’s preface to realize that Adamson is an experienced pastor. The occasional wordiness of the comments only slightly weakens this strength.
I am impressed at the large number of classical parallels Adamson cites, but I wish he would answer the question these parallels raise: Can this work really be very early Jewish-Christian and yet be so thoroughly Greek in thought, or are the parallels only apparent? Adamson probably feels the latter is the case, for he cites numerous rabbinic parallels as well. Yet this also raises problems, for rabbinic material is notoriously hard to date, and Adamson does not appear to differentiate early from late material. Qumranic parallels would have provided a control here, but the wealth of material in Dibelius’s commentary (1964, English translation 1976) or F. Muszner’s fine volume (1964) is ignored; I have found only one reference to the scrolls in the notes, despite their relevance to the exegesis of such passages as 3:18 ff.
I do not wish to imply that this is a bad commentary: it is helpful and has very interesting and original ideas at some points. Pastors can make use of it.
