To Honor Your Parents: The Chance for a Lifetime

Our friend looked up with troubled eyes. “I’d always thought the age between 45 and 55 would be relatively carefree. After all, we’re past the baby-sitting and orthodontist periods. My husband’s job is secure, and we’re making fairly good money.

“Yet I don’t think I’ve ever faced such difficult days. Trying to help our children through late adolescence and finance them through college is tough. Now add menopause to that. But one thing is far more difficult—trying to figure out what is best for our parents, both my mother and my husband’s father. They are both widowed. They need all kinds of help. What do we do?” Then she added ruefully, “I sometimes think God’s planning for my age bracket is a bit questionable.”

Hers is a common problem. Most of us are not prepared for the changing roles advancing age thrusts upon us. Our parents often thoughtfully supported us during difficult years of young adulthood and marriage. And they were loving helpers of our children as they grew.

But now, perhaps because of the normal effects of aging, or because of some illness, they are no longer self-sufficient. Or perhaps Dad has died, and now Mom is desperately lonely; she may even seem unable to function without her husband. Perhaps she can no longer maintain the family home and must move.

What should be done? Who is responsible for deciding? Some say the aging parents; some say the adult child who lives nearest; some say all the adult children.

Should we make the decision on the basis of the aging parent’s preference? Or do we make it on that of the adult children and their families?

These questions are being asked every day by thousands of middle-aged adults and their elderly parents.

Honor And Service

The Bible says a lot about families, both by laying down principles and describing actual situations. And it also presents norms of a general sort, which we can use to measure our acts and attitudes. Let us consider what the Bible says, interlacing it with the present-day situation, and then focus on the question of living arrangements.

We start with two biblical teachings that lie beneath many others. The first is the fifth commandment, “Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land which the Lord your God gave you (Exod. 20:12). The same idea with a reverse twist appears among the proverbs that deal with this relationship: “Do not despise your mother when she is old” (Prov. 23:22).

The second teaching comes from the New Testament, where a great emphasis falls on serving as exemplified by Christ: “Whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant.… For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:44–45, NIV).

Keeping these fundamentals in mind, let us look at the Bible’s point of view specifically toward the elderly. It is stamped with realism, in contrast to some of the “Let’s pretend” ideas common today. For instance, it frankly faces the debilitating effects of old age, appropriately using the subtleties of metaphor. Ecclesiastes 12:1–7 candidly describes infirmities that sometimes come with old age. The writer pictures an aging person as a house that is decaying: “… the keepers of the house [arms and hands] tremble, and the strong men are bent, and the grinders [the teeth] cease because they are few … one rises up at the voice of a bird [insomnia] … the grasshopper drags itself along and desire fails; because man goes to his eternal home … and the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit returns to God who gave it.”

At the same time, the Bible sketches a parallel line that says old age can be marked by beauty: “The glory of young men is their strength, but the beauty of old men is their gray hair” (Prov. 20:29). “A hoary head is a crown of glory; it is gained in a righteous life” (Prov. 16:31).

To this blend of infirmity and beauty the Bible adds other ingredients, also subtly held in tension, such as wisdom and foolishness. Adult children in our day often suffer a sense of guilt if they do not visualize their parents as wise, loving counselors who will enrich their homes if the aged parents come to live with them. But the Bible is more realistic and less sentimental about old age. True, some old people are revealed as good and wise, like the elderly counselors of King Rehoboam who advised him to lower taxes and relieve the burden of the people. (Rehoboam, of course, chose to obey younger counselors, who told him to get tough. His action resulted in the divided kingdom from which Israel never recovered.)

Other older people, however, are described as foolish. “Better is a poor and wise youth than an old and foolish king, who will no longer take advice” (Eccl. 4:13). And Eli, the priest at the time of Hannah, was a morally weak 98-year-old whom God chastised for his sins.

In our day, as in Bible times, most people in their old age have about the same qualities they had when younger. Old age does not by itself make people more patient, lovable, or easy to get along with. The gracious, loving 40-year-old usually becomes the gracious, loving 80-year-old. The cantankerous, selfish 40-year-old becomes the cantankerous, selfish 80-year-old. Some people, however, who were loving and kind when young may suffer brain damage from Altzheimer’s disease or other illnesses that tragically change their personalities.

Yet our elderly parents must be cared for regardless of whether they are pleasant, unpleasant, some of both, or suffering from personality changes. How we are to do this varies from situation to situation. In Bible times, older people nearly always lived close to their adult children. An extended family of children, parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles were usually within the same town or country because of the method of land inheritance. This is somewhat like the present-day situation where adult children bring their parents to live near or with them. The extended family in Scripture often formed a large, stable, social support group that could share the responsibility of caring for an elderly, sick family member.

However, that extended family system did not always work well. The prophet Micah decried the family conflict when “the son treats the father with contempt, the daughter rises up against her mother, the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; a man’s enemies are those of his own house.”

Of course, in our society, adult children may live hundreds of miles from their elderly parents or from brothers and sisters. Although this poses special difficulties regarding care, the principle that God wants to help aging parents through their adult children still applies.

Widows

Other problems the Old Testament records concern inheritance, and focus especially on widows. In those days, the eldest son inherited double that of other sons. Wives did not inherit land; daughters inherited it only if there were no sons. The eldest son, with the double portion, was probably expected to provide for his mother and other family members who needed help. But sometimes the eldest son died in war, or of disease, or could not or did not take responsibility for his widowed mother.

And sometimes the father died when the widow still had young children. Then she was apparently left to her own limited resources and to the charity of other people. Widows were powerless and often exploited so that throughout the Bible, “widow” is almost a synonym for poverty.

Time has not changed that. In the United States today, 72 percent of the elderly poor are unmarried women. In 1977, the median income for women over 65 years of age was $3,088, while men over 65 had a median income of $5,526. Current statistics indicate that the average wife outlives her husband by at least seven years.

In biblical times, widows were dependent on charity. In our times, elderly women are also often dependent on charity, supplemental social security benefits, general welfare, Medicaid, and so on.

The Mosaic law said that part of the tithe given the Levites was to feed the widows and fatherless. When a field was harvested, owners were told not to go back and pick up the stalks of grain the reapers overlooked, but to leave them for the widows and fatherless. (It was in such gleaning that Ruth met Boaz.)

In the Gospels we see that Jesus was particularly aware of the poverty of widows. He raised from the dead the only son of the widow of Nain, thereby providing for her material as well as emotional needs. He commented on the widow in the temple who gave to the treasury “all that she had,” two pence.

The first century boasted no social security system, no Medicaid. Many widows in the early church had no one to care for them—partly because, as in our day, family members ignored their needs.

Perhaps because of this Paul wrote Timothy that widowed women of child-bearing age should remarry so that they would not become dependent on the church for material needs. However, old women who did not have relatives who would care for them were to be cared for by the young church.

In this context, Paul states that adult children are responsible to care for their elderly parents. “If a widow has children or grandchildren, let them first learn their religious duty to their own family and make some return to their parents; for this is acceptable in the sight of God.… If any one does not provide for his relatives, and especially for his own family, he has disowned the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.… If any believing woman has relatives who are widows, let her assist them; let the church not be burdened, so that it may assist those who are real widows” (1 Tim. 5:4, 8, 16). Paul apparently speaks of “real widows” as those who have no family to care for them.

Some signs of family breakdowns today are battered wives, abused children, and abused elderly parents. Many of these same sins were present in Old Testament Judaism and in the time of the early church. Psalm 71:9 shows that being cast off in old age was a familiar experience. Part of the message of John the Baptist as a forerunner of Christ was that he “will turn the hearts of the fathers to the children and the hearts of the children to their fathers.”

Abuse of elderly parents is not limited to non-Christians. It takes many forms, in addition to the violent ones of actual beating or slow starvation.

We can see one abuse in the effort to gain control of the elderly parent’s assets. They do not belong to the children unless the parent chooses to assign them during his life, or through his will. The Bible speaks specifically to this point: “He who robs his father or his mother and says, ‘That is no transgression,’ is companion of a man who destroys” (Prov. 28:24).

Sometimes a parent is clearly unable to manage his or her financial affairs, and an adult child (or someone else) must take over this responsibility, either as a court-appointed conservator, or in an informal arrangement. Unfortunately, the adult child occasionally moves the parent’s assets into his own account and then places the parent on welfare. The way an adult child uses the assets of an incompetent parent is a true test of his integrity. By law, such assets are to be used only for the care and support of the parent.

Neglect is another kind of abuse. This may involve leaving the care of a needy parent to neighbors or friends or to the one adult child of the family who is willing and compassionate. This kind of neglect is surely what Paul was talking about when he wrote, “If anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for his own family, he has disowned the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.”

Adult children who live a long distance from their parents (a phenomenon almost unknown in Bible times) may not be able to be with their parents in times of failing health, but they can help in other ways. They can share expenses. They can frequently phone the parent or those who are caring for him. They can write often; they can visit as often as possible. Sometimes the only real interest adult children seem to show in a parent comes after the funeral, when they are eager to make sure they got equal treatment in the will with the family member who may have spent several years physically and financially caring for him!

Treating the elderly parent like a child is also abuse. “Honoring our father and mother” surely involves helping them maintain some control over their lives as long as possible. We do not honor our parents when we make all the decisions about care without letting them participate. We can openly discuss their feelings about where they are living, their fears for the future, their possible options for the future; these matters all contribute a great deal to our parents’ dignity. Sometimes an adult child must make a hard decision about care because the aged parent is not mentally able to participate, or because the parent refuses to accept the necessity for additional medical care. This is not so likely to occur if they have all openly discussed the options over a period of time.

We can also hurt the elderly by cutting them out of family and church activities. Peter at Pentecost indicated in quoting the prophet Joel that all age groups were to participate in a Spirit-filled church: “Your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams” (Acts 2:17). Often extra effort is necessary to keep older persons active in church life when they are no longer totally self-sufficient. Someone may need to drive them to church and home. Churches have not been quick to conform to laws regarding access for the handicapped. Wheelchairs are not difficult to transport in cars, and every church should have at least one easy access route. A loving, responsible, adult child will make extra effort to get his elderly parent to church as long as the parent wants to go.

Modern medicine is now saying that satisfying social contacts are essential for good health and mental alertness. Dr. James Lynch of the University of Maryland School of Medicine says that lack of contact with other people can lead to serious illness, especially heart disease.

Living Arrangements

The question many adult Christians are facing is, “How can I meet the needs of my elderly parents and still handle my other responsibilities? How do I honor my father and mother when a change in their living arrangement has to be made?” Is the loving and honoring course always to take the aging parent into the home of the adult child?

In some families, the presence of a grandmother or grandfather within the family circle is a blessing to all, but this is not always so.

I once asked a college friend about her home life. “What home life? We didn’t have any,” she replied. She explained that her grandmother had lived with the family all during her childhood and youth. “All our activities were determined by ‘How will Grandma feel about it?’ If it would have annoyed Grandma, it couldn’t be.” All the children in the family left home at the earliest possible time, largely to get away from Grandma.

No doubt my friend’s mother would have felt guilty if she had not taken in her mother when she was widowed. Yet both grandmother and the rest of the family would probably have been better off if they had made some other arrangement. Grandma may have been as miserable as the children, but thought living with her daughter was the only “respectable” thing to do. And perhaps for financial reasons she had no other choice.

Not every older person wants and or is emotionally equipped to live in the middle of a busy family of children and teen-agers. Many would be happier in the peace and quiet of their own apartment in a building reserved for senior citizens, or in a retirement center where they can build a circle of their own friends and maintain some independence. However, almost every older person needs and wants frequent contact with his children and grandchildren.

Some elderly parents hesitate to pay the fee to enter a retirement community because they want their children to inherit as much of their resources as possible. Or they may fear that their money “won’t last as long as we do.” The children should recognize and discuss such factors with them freely.

My husband’s father lived alone until he was 86—ten years after his wife died. We were living 400 miles away and my husband was an only child. We were uncomfortable with the situation. We called him every week, went to see him a few times a year, and had him visit us once or twice a year. After he had surgery at age 86, the doctor advised us that he should not go back to his home to live alone.

In considering what to do, we knew he would find it difficult to adjust to life in our household with active teen-agers. For example, he liked to go to bed at 8 and get up at 5 A.M. (He also thought all of us ought to go to bed at 8 and get up at 5!) He loved us and our children—in small doses. But we knew he needed a lot of solitude, as he always had.

We found a place for him in a lovely retirement center only three miles from our home. There he had his own room and private bath and TV set. He went to the dining room for three nourishing meals a day and could visit with people when he wanted to. There was a chapel service on Sunday. He could sleep when he desired. I visited him almost every day and the rest of the family visited often. We took him shopping when he was willing, brought him to our home as often as he would come. He did not want to come often because he was much more secure with a definite routine—where everything happened at an exact, specified time of day. He lived there for six years, until his death at 92.

We think he was much more content there than he would have been in our home, and those six years were among the best in his life. He needed to be in control of his space—however small.

How to honor our mother and our father is an intensely personal matter, to be worked out between the parents and adult children, taking into consideration the welfare and resources of all. Love and honor for our parents often demand sacrifices of time, money, and emotional energy to find the most Christian way to meet the needs of all concerned.

But following God’s commands has its own rewards. “God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work” (2 Cor. 9:8, NIV).

The Art of Restoration

Christianity Today June 12, 1981

The Art Of Restoration

The germans bombed Warsaw, Poland, for six years during World War II. They were determined to wipe the city from the face of the earth. Of its population of 3.5 million, only about 35 people crawled out of Warsaw’s rubble to greet the victorious German army when it arrived.

Later, after the Germans themselves had been defeated, the people who had fled into the country returned. Someone produced some old photographs. And with their bare hands, the Polish people began to rebuild their city: stone by stone, lovingly, exactly. Where a former 700-year-old roof sagged, the reconstructed roof sagged. Thus today, when standing in the center of the reconstructed square, one is easily transported back 700 years in time.

But the interesting thing is this: today, when Germany wants to restore an old town or an old building, it is to the Polish artisans that they turn for help.

Has your life been devastated? God can give you the vision, the strength, and the skill to restore it. With him alongside, the reconstruction can begin. Then, who knows? Perhaps someday you, too, will be permitted to use that art of restoration to help the very ones who were responsible for the devastation.

To Savor The Struggle

“To prosper in sin,” wrote English poet John Trapp, “is the greatest tragedy that can befall a man this side of hell.”

When we pray earnestly for a beloved prodigal and calamity falls, we must be lovingly sympathetic—but thank God that he is undertaking. Trouble is just the old sheep dog nudging us back to the Shepherd.

The psalmist marvels at the wicked “spreading himself like a green bay tree.” The prayer book version puts it: “like a green native plant.” We have a schefflera plant in our living room. It makes a nice house plant where we live because it is not a native plant. But a schefflera plant in Florida grows to be a tree.

Why should we wonder then when we Christians struggle? We are not native plants. This earth is not our home, and we can expect to have rough times. Our Lord promised us that.

So John Trapp looked around him at the prosperous ungodly of his day in seventeenth-century England and wrote, in his inimitable way, “Envy not such an one his pomp any more than you would a corpse his flowers.”

Setting the Spirit Free

We can reclaim the power of Pentecost to renew the church.

The church is growing in many parts of the world; in some parts, very rapidly. But when the church grows rapidly, there is danger of a certain superficiality that deeply distresses sensitive Christians. In other places, the church is not growing. Its breath is stale, its growth is stunted, and its waters are stagnant.

Many people talk about the renewal of the church. Some speak of theological renewal, others of liturgical renewal, others of structural renewal, others of charismatic renewal, still others of pastoral renewal. We need the renewal of the church in all dimensions of its life.

Some people have such a narrow vision of the renewal of the church that they seek renewal of only a part, not the totality, of its life. All, however, agree that it is impossible for the church ever to be renewed without the work of the Holy Spirit. So the question is, What does a renewed church look like? What evidences does it give of the presence and the power of the Holy Spirit?

The answer to these questions is found in Acts 2, Luke’s description of the Jerusalem church, indeed the first Christian church, when the people of God first became the Spirit-filled body of Christ. We learn from this description that a Spirit-filled Christian church has four major characteristics.

The First Mark: Study

The first characteristic is very surprising. If I had asked, “What do you think is the first mark of a Spirit-filled church?” I doubt very much if many would have thought of this: the first mark of a Spirit-filled church is its study. “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching,” or “to the apostles’ doctrine” (v. 42). They devoted themselves to it. They studied the apostles’ doctrine. This was a learning and a studying church.

The new converts were not enjoying some mystical experience that led them to despise their intellect. When the Holy Spirit came upon them, they studied.

The Holy Spirit had opened a school in Jerusalem. He had appointed the apostles to be the teachers in the school, and there were 3,000 pupils in the kindergarten. The new converts were not enjoying some mystical experience that led them to despise their intellect. There was no anti-intellectualism. They did not despise the mind. They did not disdain theology, nor did they suppose that instruction was unnecessary. They did not say that because they had received the Holy Spirit, he was the only teacher they needed and they could dispense with human teachers.

Some people today say that, but these early, Spirit-filled Christians did not. They sat at the apostles’ feet, they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, they were hungry for apostolic instruction. They were eager to learn all they could. They knew Jesus had authorized the apostles to be the infallible teachers of the church, so they submitted to the apostles’ authority.

How can we devote ourselves to the apostles’ teaching today? How can we submit to their authority? There is only one possible answer: the apostles’ teaching has come down to us in its definitive form in the New Testament, which is precisely the teaching of the apostles.

When the canon came to be fixed in the second and third centuries, the test of canonicity was apostolicity. If it was not written by an apostle, does it come with the authority of the apostles? Does it contain the teaching of the apostles? Does it have the imprimatur of the apostles? Does it come from the circle of the apostles? If it was apostolic in one of these senses, then it was accepted as having a unique authority and therefore belonging to the canon of the New Testament Scriptures.

It is urgent for us in these days to recover an understanding of the unique authority of the apostles. They themselves were aware of it. They knew that Jesus had given them a unique authority, and the early church in the immediate post-apostolic period understood it very well, too. For example, Bishop Ignatius of Antioch, who flourished just after the last apostle had died, wrote: “I do not issue you commands like Peter or Paul, for I am not an apostle, but a condemned man.” He was a bishop, but he was not an apostle and he did not have authority to issue commands as did the apostles.

This first mark, then, of a Spirit-filled church is humble submission to the teaching of the apostles. In other words, the Spirit-filled church is a biblical church, a New Testament church, an apostolic church, a church that is deeply desirous to conform its understanding and its living to this unique, infallible teaching of the apostles of Jesus Christ.

The Second Mark: Fellowship

The second mark of a Spirit-filled church is its fellowship: koinonia (v. 42). Koinonia is the fellowship of the Holy Spirit: there was no fellowship before Pentecost. There was friendship and camaraderie and so on, but there was no fellowship.

At the heart of the word koinonia is the adjective koinos, which means common. The koinonia expresses the commonness of the Christian church in two major respects. First, it expresses what we share in together, or what we possess in common. That, of course, is God himself and his saving grace. John wrote at the beginning of his first letter, “Our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ.” And Paul adds, “The fellowship of the Holy Spirit.”

Fellowship, koinonia, is a trinitarian concept, because we have the same God as our Father, the same Jesus Christ as our Savior and Lord, and the same Holy Spirit as our indwelling Comforter. This is the element common to all Christians.

The koinonia bears witness not only to what we share in each other as our common possession, but what we share out as our common gift to others. What we give of ourselves and of our money and of our possessions is another indispensible mark of true koinonia. Where there is no generosity, there is no fellowship.

Luke tells of this generosity in Acts 2: “They were together, they had all things in common” (koine, v. 44). “They sold their possessions and gave according to every man’s need.”

These are very disturbing facts, the kind of facts that we, who live in the affluence of America and Europe, tend to skip over rather too quickly. What is the implication of this teaching? Must every Spirit-filled Christian follow the example literally?

I believe Jesus does still call some of his followers to total voluntary poverty. Mother Teresa is one example. Such Christians bear witness that a human being’s life does not consist in the abundance of material possessions. I am also persuaded that Jesus does not call every disciple to total voluntary poverty. Christ and the apostles did not forbid owning private property.

In the early Jerusalem church, the selling of property and the giving were voluntary. The sin of Ananias and was not that they kept back a part of the proceeds of the sale of their property, but that they kept back a part while pretending to bring the whole. Their sin was deceit and hypocrisy, not greed. Peter said to them, “Before you sold it, was it not your own?” (Acts 5:4), which is a very important piece of apostolic teaching. In other words, your property is your own; you are a steward of it. It is for you to decide in a conscientious way before God what you will do with your property and your possessions—how much you will keep and how much you will give away.

Although the selling and the giving were voluntary, we must not try to escape the challenge too easily, or get ourselves off the hook too quickly. Those early Christians really cared about the poor in their midst. They shared of their abundance, or affluence, according to need.

The Christian community is the one community in the world in which poverty should be abolished. Do we not believe that the church bears witness to the kingdom of God and that it is the kingdom of righteousness and the kingdom of justice? How can we permit gross economic inequality within the Christian community that is bearing witness to a kingdom in which such injustice is supposed to have been abolished?

There is also gross economic inequality between the affluent nations of the world and the poverty-stricken nations. There are 800 million destitute people in the world. Ten thousand people die of starvation every day: that is the official figure. These things should surely rest heavily on the conscience of the Christian. The Holy Spirit gives to those whom he fills a tender, social conscience. We should love the poor—especially in our midst, in the Christian family. We also have to help the millions of stricken brothers and sisters in the Third World.

The Third Mark: Worship

The third mark of a Spirit-filled church is worship. “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship and the breaking of the bread [which is almost certainly a reference to the Lord’s Supper, probably with a fellowship meal thrown in as well] and the prayers” (v. 42). This is not a reference to private devotion, but to public prayer services or meetings. The Spirit-filled community is a worshiping community.

The Holy Spirit causes us to cry, “Abba, Father,” and “Jesus is Lord.” We worship in the Spirit and by the inspiration of the Spirit. Luke pictures a remarkable balance of the early Christian worship in two respects: first, it was both formal and informal. They worshiped both in the temple and in each other’s homes, a very interesting combination. It is surprising that they continued to worship in the temple, but no doubt they wanted to reform it according to the gospel. I do not believe they attended the sacrifices in the temple, because they knew that these had been fulfilled in the sacrifice of Jesus. But they did attend the temple prayer services.

Young people who are understandably impatient with the inherited structures of the church can learn a valuable lesson here. The Holy Spirit is a patient spirit, but his way with the institution of the church is more the way of patient reform than of impatient rejection.

They supplemented the temple prayer services with more informal services in their homes. Why can’t we do that? Why must we always polarize? Old fogies like me enjoy dignified services in the church; older members of the congregation sometimes feel a little embarrassed by the exuberance and spontaneity of informal home services when young people, who find it hard at times to take the dignity and the formality of the church, get out their guitars and testify and clap their hands. But adults need to experience spontaneity and exuberance, and young people need the experience of dignity. In other words, we need each other.

Every healthy local church will have not only the united service of dignity on the Lord’s day, but it will divide the congregation into fellowship groups, which meet in each other’s homes during the week. We need both; we must not choose between them.

A second example of balance is that the worship, in addition to being formal and informal, was both joyful and reverent. There is no doubt about the joy of those early Christians. They met to praise God with glad and sincere hearts. The word for gladness in the Greek means exultation: it expresses a high degree of joy. They had reason to be filled with joy. Had not God sent his Son into the world to take human nature to himself, to live upon this planet, to die, to rise again, to send the Holy Spirit? Had the Holy Spirit not come to take up his residence in their hearts? How could they not be joyful? One fruit of the Spirit is joy.

Reverence and rejoicing do not exclude one another. We must recover the balance of the early Christian worship, formal and informal, joyful and reverent.

Sometimes when I attend a church service, I really think I’ve come to a funeral by mistake. Everybody is dressed in black. Nobody laughs and nobody smiles. The atmosphere is dismal. The hymns are played at a snail’s pace, like a funeral dirge, and everything is lugubrious. If I could only overcome my Anglo-Saxon reserve, I would shout out in the middle of such a service, “Cheer up! Christianity is a joyful religion!”

A certain Salvation Army drummer was beating his drum so hard that the band leader had to tell him to pipe down a bit and not make so much noise. In his cockney accent the drummer replied: “God bless you, sir, since oi’ve been converted, oi’m so ’appy, oi could bust the bloomin’ drum!” Every worship service ought to be a joyful celebration of the mighty acts of God in Jesus Christ.

But the joy of these early Christians was never irreverent. Fear came upon every soul—that fear which is reverence, or awe, in the presence of God. The living God had visited the city of Jerusalem; he was in their midst and they knew it.

Some people think that whenever the Holy Spirit is present in power there is noise; the more decibels the better. I enjoy noise, too; I don’t mind when we clap and stamp and sing for joy. But sometimes when the Holy Spirit is present in power, there is silence; there is nothing to say. We can only bow down in speechless wonder and reverence before the greatness and the glory of almighty God. “The Lord is in his holy temple; let all the earth keep silence before him” (Hab. 2:20).

Joy and reverence need not be separated in Christian worship. Reverence and rejoicing do not exclude one another. We need to recover the balance of the early Christian worship, both formal and informal, both joyful and reverent.

The Fourth Mark: Evangelism

The fourth mark of the Spirit-filled church is its evangelism. “The Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved” (Acts 2:47). If the marks of the Spirit’s presence in the church were only study, fellowship, and worship, it would be a very self-centered community. The things that concerned the interior life of the church were studying, loving one another, caring for one another in the fellowship, worshiping God in the sanctuary. But what about the alienated world outside? The Holy Spirit is concerned about that, too.

There are several facts we must note about evangelism. The first is that the Lord Jesus himself did it. The Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved. Nobody else can add to the church but Jesus. He is the head of the church; he is the Lord of the church. He reserves for himself the prerogative of adding people to the church.

Of course, he delegates to pastors the responsibility of admitting people by baptism into the visible church, but he adds people to the invisible church, the real church, the community of believers.

We live in such a self-confident age. Some people are preoccupied with the techniques of evangelism. Some books and articles suggest that world evangelization is going to be computerized quite soon. We need to use all the technology that God has put at our disposal, so long as we remember that it is a servant only,

The second fact about evangelism is that Jesus does two things together: he adds to the church those whom he is saving. He does not save them without adding them to the church and he does not add them to the church without saving them. Salvation and church membership go together. They did in those days and they still do today.

Third, Jesus did it every day. The evangelism of the Jerusalem church was not an occasional or sporadic thing. They did not organize a mission every five years, and in between let the missions sink back into bourgeois respectability. They evangelized continually. Jesus was adding to their number through the preaching of the apostles, through the witness of the Christians, through the love of their common life.

That is quite alien to many churches today. I know churches that have not had a convert for decades. They are not expecting converts and they are not getting converts. We need a rise in expectations that the Lord will add regularly to the church those who are being saved.

Looking back over these four marks of a Spirit-filled church, notice that they concern four major relationships. First, the early Christians were related to the apostles. They were eager to receive the apostles’ instruction. A Spirit-filled church is an apostolic church, a New Testament church, a church anxious to learn from the apostles and to obey the apostles. Second, they were related to each other. They continued in the fellowship. They looked after the needy. The Spirit-filled church is a loving church, a caring church, a generous church.

Third, they were related to God. They worshiped God in the temple and in the home, and with joy and reverence. A Spirit-filled church is a worshiping church. Fourth, they were related to the world outside. They were engaged in continuous evangelism. A Spirit-filled church is a missionary church, because the Holy Spirit is a missionary Spirit.

What fascinates me is that these four marks of a Spirit-filled church, if I am not greatly mistaken, are exactly what young people in particular are looking for in the churches today. When I was in Argentina a few years ago, I met a group of Christian students. I learned they had been to every Protestant church in their city. None of the churches had satisfied them and therefore they had dropped out. They called themselves “Christianos descalgados.” It is the term used if you go to the wall and lift a picture off the hook. They were “unhooked” Christians, or, if you like, unattached Christians.

I said, “Why? Why? What is it you were looking for in the churches that you could not find?” You can imagine my astonishment when they went straight down the line, without realizing what they were doing. First, they were looking for a teaching ministry in which the Bible was expounded with faithfulness and related to the contemporary world—a thoughtful, teaching ministry, equally faithful to Scripture and relevant to the modern world. Second, they were looking for fellowship: warm, loving, caring, supportive fellowship. Third, they were looking for worship, a sense of the living God and his greatness, not just a perfunctory ritual or liturgy. They sought a sense of the living God in the midst of his people, and a people who bowed down before him in wonder, love, and praise. Fourth, they said they were looking for compassionate outreach. They were sickened by the churches in their city because they were so self-centered. They saw the need for the churches to reach out into the community with compassion, both socially and evangelistically. Teaching, fellowship, worship, outreach: exactly the four marks of a Spirit-filled church, according to Scripture.

We do not need to wait for the Holy Spirit to come: he came on the day of Pentecost. He has never left the church. What we need to do is to surrender afresh to his sovereignty, to seek the liberating power of the Holy Spirit, to come to him in his fullness, both individually and as a community, that he may be given his rightful place. Then we shall find a church approaching this divine ideal in apostolic doctrine, loving fellowship, authentic worship, and compassionate outreach. May God make our church into that kind of a church.

John R. W. Stott is rector emeritus of All Souls Church, Langham Place, in London, England.

Opening the Church to the Charismatic Dimension

Christianity Today June 12, 1981

Evangelicals are shocked when they come across liberals like Rudolf Bultmann who delight in eliminating from the Bible certain features to which they take exception—such as the resurrection of Jesus or the vicarious atonement through his death. However, there is also a degree of demythologizing going on in our own ranks. I have in mind the charismatic dimension of apostolic teaching.

To grasp it, let us look at Paul’s essay on spiritual gifts in 1 Corinthians 12 to 14. There we glimpse a congregation alive in the Spirit and abounding in gifts and manifestations. Several of Paul’s points provoke no controversy among us. He speaks of simple confession of Christ as Lord and makes it the basic criterion for discerning the work of the Spirit (12:3). He goes on to say that God gives every individual believer some spiritual capacity out of an incredibly rich reservoir of diverse gifts (12:4–7). Then he insists at length on a rule of action as well: gifts are intended to channel love to the body of Christ, and if they do not, something is wrong (12:12–13:13).

The challenging feature of Paul’s remarks lies in the intensity and range of our spiritual experience in Christ. Paul refers to gifts of service that are ordinary and everyday (12:5), and to dynamic workings that are unusual and supernatural (12:6). In his later lists of gifts, he mentions commonplace abilities like administration and helping (12:28). He also speaks of miracle-working faith, which a person can use effectively to pray for healing and to claim God’s presence in a critical situation (12:9–10). He talks about a liberated prayer language and the ability to express God’s leading to the congregation (12:10). Later he discusses at greater length two of the gifts: tongues and prophecy (14:1–32).

The overall picture Paul gives us is that of a wonderfully gifted congregation, liberated in their spiritual experience, and eager to share with everyone else what God is saying and what God has done (14:26–33). He describes a condition where the Spirit is personally present and dynamically real, where it is natural and normal to experience abundance of spiritual abilities and emotions. He thus describes a condition that is all too lacking in the centuries since, and even today. He describes exactly what we all need.

On the one hand, we suffer from great lethargy, ineffectiveness, and boredom; on the other hand, we turn away from the one influence that promises to make us alive unto God and empowered in his work. My own denomination suffers as much from dead orthodoxy as it does from lifeless liberalism, yet it is deathly afraid of what might happen if the Spirit came sweeping over us. In our pews sit hundreds of discouraged saints. They are not lusting for existential benefits beyond those in Christ. They are simply thirsting for more of his fullness and for greater warmth from the spiritual fire within.

It is not a new doctrine we lack. What we need is a new dynamism that will make all of the old evangelical convictions operational. We need not so much to be educated as to be vitalized. It is not a doctrine of the Spirit that we need, but a movement of the Spirit, pervading and filling us, setting our convictions on fire.

If theological rationalizing is one obstacle to realizing the blessings God has for us, another is our fear and suspicion about the Pentecostal movement (I speak as a Baptist). There have been enough instances of church splits, fanatical prophecy, spurious claims for miracles and the like to make this an understandable fear. Even a revival based on scriptural doctrine can go wrong and bear bitter fruit. We are wise to move cautiously.

And yet, can we not see what a breakthrough in spiritual reality and power the Pentecostal movement has achieved? Are we too proud to admit that this missing dimension has been wonderfully recovered in the company of our Pentecostal brothers and sisters? Can we not rejoice that many of God’s people have experienced a fresh anointing of the dynamism of God’s Spirit?

God has a providential purpose in the existence of diverse groups—Baptists, Anglicans, Pentecostals, and more. Each has treasures to share with the whole church. May we not be too proud or too fearful to recognize the testimony of our Pentecostal brethren, and add their dynamism to our doctrine.

Others Say: Education: The Crisis Is “The Same Everywhere”

The biggest “infrastructure” challenge for this country in the next decade is not the billions needed for railroads, highways, and energy. It is the American school system, from kindergarten through the Ph.D. program and the postgraduate education of adults. And it requires something far scarcer than money thinking and risk taking.

The challenge is not one of expansion. On the contrary, the explosive growth in enrollment over the last 30 years has come to an end.

And the last 30 years of social upheaval are also over. The country will no longer try to use schools to bring about social reform and reconstruction. It is becoming increasingly clear to policymakers that schools cannot solve all the problems of the larger community.

Instead, the battle cry for the eighties and nineties will be the demand for performance and accountability. Now many major employers are beginning to demand more than completion of school. Students and parents, too, will demand greater accountability from schools, on all levels.

Demand for education is actually going up, not down. What is going down, and fairly fast, is demand for traditional education in traditional schools. Indeed, the fastest growing industry in America today may be the continuing professional education of highly schooled midcareer adults.

But the greatest challenge to educators is likely to come from our new opportunities for diversity. We now have the chance to apply the basic findings of psychological, developmental, and educational research over the last 100 years: namely, that no one educational method fits all children.

Some children learn best by rote, in structured environments with high certainty and strict discipline. Others thrive in the less structured “permissive” atmosphere of a “progressive” school. Some adults learn out of books, some learn by doing, some learn best by listening. Some students need prescribed daily doses of information; others need challenge, the “broad picture” and a high degree of responsibility for the design of their own work. But for too long, educators have insisted that there is one best way to teach and learn, even though they have disagreed about what that way is.

A century ago, the greatest majority of Americans lived in communities so small that only one one-room schoolhouse was within walking distance of small children. Then there had to be “one right method” for everybody to learn.

Today the great majority of school children in the U.S. (and all developed countries) live in metropolitan areas with such density that there can easily be three or four elementary schools—as well as junior highs and even high schools—within each child’s walking or bicycling distance. There will therefore be increasing demand for some kind of “voucher” system enabling students and their parents to choose between alternative routes to learning offered by competing schools.

Indeed, competition and choice are already beginning to infiltrate the school system. “Fundamentalist” and “evangelical” schools and colleges have shown an amazing ability to prosper during a period of rising costs and dropping enrollments elsewhere. All this is anathema, of course, to the public school establishment. But economics, student needs, and our new understanding of how people learn are bound to break the traditional education monopoly just as trucks and airplanes broke the monopoly of the railroads, and computers and “chips” are breaking the telephone monopoly.

In the next 10 or 15 years, we will almost certainly see strong pressures to make schools responsible for thinking through what kind of learning methods are appropriate for each child. We will almost certainly see tremendous pressure, from parents and students alike, for result-focused education and for accountability in meeting objectives set for individual students. The continuing professional education of highly educated midcareer adults will become a third tier in addition to undergraduate and professional or graduate work. Above all, attention will shift back to schools and education as the central capital investment and infrastructure of a “knowledge society.”

Reprinted from the Wall Street Journal, March 3, 1981, by permission of the author.

Ideas

Truth in Learning: A Matter of Degrees?

In hearings before a commission of the Association of Theological Schools, Harvard dean Krister Stendahl once proposed, no doubt with tongue in cheek, that all seminaries should immediately confer doctorates on everyone. This ought effectively to eliminate intellectual pride in degrees and put an end to the senseless pursuit of academic degrees for the sake of the degrees. Pastors and scholars would then be motivated to pursue their studies solely for the sake of what they would learn. Schools and churches in turn would evaluate candidates not on the false basis of degrees but on their ability to function effectively as pastor or teacher or scholar.

This poses the question of why we have degrees anyway. Do they really serve any good and useful purpose—particularly in the ministry where the call of God, moral commitment, and the enablement of the Holy Spirit are infinitely more valuable to the practice of Christian ministry than a diploma? After all, a diploma may only prove that a student sat in class for 15 hours every week over three years, listening to lectures by someone who was never called to be a pastor, had no gifts or experience as a pastor, and may not even have gifts to teach.

The offering of degrees for academic work has deep roots in Western culture. The University of Bologna began the practice, and early in the thirteenth century the University of Paris bestowed the first bachelor’s degree. Oxford University chose to confer the degree at the end of the course of study, and the American colonies adopted this English practice with Harvard granting its first degree in 1642. Special degrees for seminary or divinity school graduates developed much later and did not become common practice until the nineteenth century. The Master of Divinity has now all but universally supplanted the older B.D. or Th.B. as the standard degree following a three-year (postcollege) program of professional education for the ministry.

Across the years, the seminary curriculum has slowly evolved from a rigidly structured concentration in Greek and Hebrew exegesis, biblical studies, church history, systematic theology, denominational distinctives, and pastoral duties to a wide open curriculum with liberal slices of English Bible, Christian education, counseling, sociology of religion, inner-city studies, and church worship. Most conservative seminaries require both Greek and Hebrew; most liberal schools do not. Previous to this century, the older practice of an additional year of internship brought the student into prolonged exposure to local church practice. Largely for financial reasons, internship is now provided during the three-year course.

What a degree means is a hotly debated issue both on and off the seminary campus. Still, in spite of occasional misgivings, the demand for degrees by both ministers and church congregations has wide support. Degrees continue to meet a felt need of the religious and Christian community. Very simply, degrees arose because people desired some certification by a responsible body that indicated ministers possessed certain skills useful for the successful pursuit of their profession, and which ordinary people felt inadequate to evaluate.

In spite of wide variations in standards, the ministerial degree came to mean at least this: the candidate had satisfied a group of intelligent, trusted individuals (the theological faculty) that he possessed the rudiments of a broad cultural education (his A.B. prerequisite for admission to seminary), had mastered a basic body of theological knowledge, understood the doctrines of Christian faith and of his own denomination, and knew something not only of the principles of preaching, but also of the duties of a pastor.

A theological degree, therefore, stands generally for a specific kind of training at the graduate level of study. This is why it is wrong for an institution to set its own standards for a degree or to grant degrees for lesser amounts or a significantly lower quality of training. In such cases, to award a degree is an act of flagrant deception. No institution of integrity will grant such dishonest degrees, and no person of moral integrity will have anything to do with an institution that stoops to such immoral practices.

No doubt seminaries ought constantly to reexamine their curriculum to make sure it is meeting the true needs of its graduates. When some liberal schools offer the standard professional degree for the ministry on the basis of a heavy load of sociology, psychology, philosophy, and religion, that is dishonest. But when a conservative school certifies that a student has completed a standard course for the ministry while filling his schedule with Greek, Hebrew, church history, and theology, and little or nothing on the practice of ministry, that too is dishonest. All too frequently we hear the story of seminary graduates who don’t know the first thing about how to preach or how to carry on the day-to-day ministries required of a pastor.

Seminaries must take seriously their responsibility for the degrees they offer. When an evangelical seminary awards a ministerial degree, it certifies that an individual has completed the standard academic preparation for the pastorate or for ordination to the Christian ministry. Surely we have a right to expect seminaries training young people for Christian ministry to tell the truth.

Late last year the government-sponsored Patriotic Three-Self Movement in the People’s Republic of China printed 85,000 Bibles and 50,000 New Testaments. The printing of the edition was exhausted by March. Further, we hear that the demand for Bibles in China today is almost insatiable. During the bleak years of the cultural revolution, Bibles were systematically destroyed. Hard-pressed Christians treasured their few available Bibles and wore them to shreds by constant use. To preserve the written Word of God, faithful servants laboriously copied by hand long pages of the text—even whole books. Even now religion is merely tolerated, and the official position is that religion will eventually fade away of its own accord when the communistic society comes to its own.

The value their Chinese brothers and sisters set upon the Holy Scriptures should come as no surprise to Western Christians. At the beginning of our Christian era, did not the apostle Paul tell us that Holy Scripture is God’s instrument “to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus” (2 Tim. 3:15)?

Karl Barth was once asked: “Could you state what your Christianity is all about in a few simple words?”

He replied: “It can all be summed up in the simple words of the child’s hymn: ‘Jesus loves me! this I know, For the Bible tells me so; / Little ones to him belong; They are weak, but he is strong.’ ” The Bible introduces us to Jesus Christ, and to know Jesus Christ is to know God.

But in that same passage, the apostle adds a second purpose of the Bible: “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work” (2 Tim. 3:16–17, NIV). The Bible is God’s instruction book to guide the thought and life of the believer. By it the faithful disciple of Christ may grow to full Christian maturity and live an obedient and useful life in this world.

No wonder Chinese Christians treasure their Bibles and desperately yearn for more!

Eutychus and His Kin: June 12, 1981

Knowing—As I Am Known

My, but it’s getting expensive to be a church member—at least at the church where I belong. And I don’t mean the offerings. It’s the extras that are attacking my budget.

Exhibit A is the “church directory” for which all of us had to have our pictures taken. The picture was free, I guess, but it cost me money to order extra copies for our friends and relatives. The whole project just about wrecked the church, even though the pastor said the book would help us get to know each other better. We saw people in the directory that we have never seen in church, and this raised some furor. Then the deacons took up a special offering so we could mail copies to our missionaries. Surely missionaries see enough weird-looking people without sending them our pictures.

No sooner did we recover from the directory drain than the pastor suggested that we start wearing name tags. “It will help us to know each other better,” he explained. (I think we’re getting to know him better.) The deacons displayed samples at prayer meeting and the battle started again. Mrs. Hawkins said the type was too small and she couldn’t read it. But her eyes are so weak that we would all have to wear sandwich boards for her to be able to read our names. Mrs. Lorrimer wondered if the tags were available in different colors so she could match them to her various apparel ensembles, and Mrs. Olsen said that the pins would ruin her clothes. “Why don’t we get the kind that clip on your pocket, like they wear at the hospital?”

Well, the name tag idea was tabled. Then the pastor came home from a “group dynamics” conference and decided we needed to be more dynamic. It turned out to be dynamite instead. “We will cancel the evening services,” he said, “and start meeting in house groups. This way we can get to know each other better. We will also save light and heat at the church.” When somebody asked about wasting gas driving all over town, he just said, “Well, this way we can get to know the town better, and you may lead a hitchhiker to the Lord.”

Don’t ask me how the house groups are doing. I hear that some people are complaining because it’s costing a lot to provide coffee and refreshments. “You don’t have to feed us,” the pastor explained, “but it will help you to get to know your grocer better.” Forgive me, but I’m staying home instead and reading my Bible and praying for the people in the church directory. Would you believe it? I’m getting to know myself and my Lord better.

EUTYCHUS X

A Realistic Portrayal

Bernard Rifkin’s evaluation of Ordinary People [April 24] astonished me. I could not see any sinister and ulterior motives lurking in the shadows of this movie.

Rifkin confuses biblical values (or “Calvinist values”) with “traditional culture,” a common but dangerous misconception. There are elements in our culture that do contribute to repression of feeling, to artificiality, and to mental illness. This is not the fault or the result of biblical values, nor does Ordinary People claim that it is.

The film’s crucial message to Christians is (1) hurting is human, (2) keeping hurt inside can be self-destructive, and (3) there are people out there, even unbelievers, who can help us work through our hurt.

JESSICA SHAVER

Long Beach, Calif.

Why Rifkin sees this movie as an attack on Protestant values is beyond me. This descriptive movie is harshly realistic of what happens when anger and negative feelings are denied and parents do not have a healthy relationship. Rifkin is attacking a straw man and is overspiritualizing what he sees.

We have in today’s culture a large number of evangelical families exactly where the Jarretts were in Ordinary People: good families with relationships lacking depth and true intimacy. A major factor is our emphasis on cognitive and behavioral components of human personality. Many people—like Rifkin, I suspect—are fearful of the affective component of their personality, so they repress their feelings and never allow themselves the openness and spontaneity that make true intimacy possible.

WAYLON O. WARD

Richardson, Tex.

Ordinary People is a morally poignant movie precisely because it penetrates the spiritual vacuity inherent in the value orientations and cultural consciousness of people like Rifkin himself. It shows us, in a painfully familiar (and attractive) setting, the structured strains and existential ambiguities that are emotionally pathogenic, not in spite of, but because of middle-class secularized Protestant values.

JEFFREY W. SWANSON

New Haven, Conn.

Humanism In Education

The April 10 issue was of special value to me as it provided encouragement, advice, information, correction, and a basis for discussion.

If Christian writers such as Crater [“The Unproclaimed Priests of Public Education”] listened less raptly to and quoted less frequently from the educational experts, they would give their readers a more balanced picture of public education in America. There is a great difference between what is said in the orderly, quiet expert’s office and what is done in the stuffy, busy, crowded classroom.

Ten years ago our province’s department of education established a humanistic-based “values” social studies program. Experts came from all over to laud and to borrow from this innovative program. Last year the whole social studies curriculum was changed. The values emphasis was not scrapped as a result of mass protests. Rather, an expert left the rarefied atmosphere of his office and talked to teachers. He found that they had not been teaching the new curriculum and had no intention of ever teaching it. The reasons for why they found this curriculum unteachable were as varied as the teachers themselves.

Although evangelicals fear it and college officials wish it, educational experts still are not able to mass produce teachers as Heinz does ketchup.

LUCILLE GLEDDIE

Red Deer, Alberta, Canada

Messianic Jews

I want to express my sincere appreciation for the article, “A Messianic Jew Pleads His Case,” by Pawley and Juster [April 24]. From my own perspective as a Gentile Christian, given a deep love for Jewish people by my parents, I have discovered how helpful Passover, Sabbath, and the other festivals of Leviticus 23 are to Christians seeking to discover their Old Testament roots. Our children have grown up with these festivals and look forward to them with great anticipation. Perhaps one way for evangelicals to begin to appreciate Messianic Jews will be to discover our common roots.

MARTHA ZIMMERMAN

Richland, Wash.

Because of my Jewish background, it is easy to relate to events in the Gospels and in the first-century church. Peter, Paul, James, and John are members of my family and the Rabbi of Nazareth speaks to me in my own language as I sit at his feet. What could be better? The rabbis will tell you that I am no longer a Jew because I have found the Messiah whom Isaiah and Moses foreknew. If I were agnostic or atheistic, I would still be Jewish, but since I have recognized the Messiah by the signs given by our holy prophets, I have ceased to be Jewish, but somehow have not become a Gentile. What am I, then? My heart tells me that I am as Jewish as I was on the day of my birth to a Jewish father and mother.

MURRAY GOODMAN

Tucson, Ariz.

My father-in-law was a converted Jew. He did not come out of strict Judaism, and he was not ashamed of his Jewishness, but upon his conversion, he was not in the slightest interested in “Hebrew Christian congregations.” His position simply was, “I was once a Jew, I am now a Christian. I want to be known as a Christian without any trappings or qualifications.”

As far as the apostle Paul is concerned, at the present time, “There is neither Jew nor Gentile … but all one in Christ Jesus. I am a Gentile Christian. My father-in-law was a Jewish Christian. But both of us are Christians. I do not attend a Gentile church; there was no reason for him to have attended a Jewish church. There is no such thing. The church combines those who were once Jews and once Gentiles into one new body, one new thing, the body of Jesus Christ which is the church.

Furthermore, in my own experience of talking to Jews about Jesus Christ, the vast majority know almost nothing about Judaism. They are Jewish pagans to all practical purposes. So much stress is laid in courses on Jewish evangelism on a thorough knowledge of the law and fulfilled prophecy, although as a matter of fact, the majority of Jewish people to whom we speak about the gospel have no knowledge of either one.

FRANCIS R. STEELE

Upper Darby, Pa.

One place in Juster and Pawley’s article where absolutist statements distort reality and the boundless power of God is in the pronouncement that “one has to be Jewish to relate in total compassion to the hearts of people who have been through the Holocaust.” So much for Corrie ten Boom and other Gentile Christians who suffered and died for the victims of the Holocaust.

ROBERT STROUD

Citrus Heights, Calif.

Rabbi Tannenbaum’s statement that “Jewish tradition allows that Gentiles can believe in the Trinitarian concept, termed in Hebrew as shittuf (partnership)” is not correct. The best Hebrew term, the one used by Israeli believers for whom Hebrew is their native tongue, is the word shilush, which means trinity. Tanenbaum, viewing the Trinitarian concept as a “partnership,” rejects the Christian concept on the basis that the covenant of Sinai “explicitly excludes the possibility of any belief that God shares his being in any partnership with any other being.” We are not talking about a shittuf or a mere partnership between God and a man named Jesus, but we are talking about a shilush in which the one God as a Trinity shares the same essence in a oneness.

Jewish believers represented in this issue were all representative of one branch, that of Messianic Judaism. The Hebrew Christian approach has a far more biblical and theological foundation than the former, whose representatives often represent a very confused and inconsistent theology.

ARNOLD G. FRUCHTENBAUM

Ariel Ministries

San Antonio, Tex.

Letters are welcome. Only a selection can be published. Since all are subject to condensation, those of 100 to 150 words are preferred. Address letters to Eutychus and His Kin,CHRISTIANITY TODAY, 465 Gundersen Drive, Carol Stream, Illinois 60187.

Editor’s Note from June 12, 1981

No evangelical—one is tempted to say no Christian—has influenced the theology of the Third World quite so thoroughly as British pastor-theologian John R. W. Stott. In a way that is reminiscent of John R. Mott from an earlier generation, John Stott has crisscrossed continents in both hemispheres in tireless efforts to carry the gospel to every corner of the earth. Students are his special domain. He loves them, and they worship him.

For years he preached six months in his home church, All Souls of London, and for the remainder of the year ministered at countless retreats, seminars, short courses, and missions on every inhabited continent. In recent years, he has travelled constantly, preaching and lecturing to students everywhere. His message is always the same, yet always new and fresh. He simply teaches the Bible! How, you ask, could anyone hold the minds and move the hearts of students from Anchorage to Ouagadougou, and from Belgrade to Boston by simply teaching the Bible? John Stott does it. With his razor-sharp mind, he cuts through muddy thinking, exposes kinks in logic, and encourages students to think straight. His sacrificial love for students is transparent: no hour is too late, no time inconvenient to explore a troublesome problem.

But two quite different things impress me every time I hear him. The first is integrity: he lives what he preaches. He preaches that we are to seek first the kingdom of God, and he forsakes a highly successful pastorate in a world-renowned congregation to travel in the hard places of the earth, keeping long and wearisome hours, sleeping every night in a different bed—all for the sake of the gospel. The second unique thing about John Stott is his God-given mastery of the art of unfolding Holy Scripture. When I hear him expound a text, invariably I exclaim to myself, “That’s exactly what it means! Why didn’t I see it before?” Students love it. And some of us who are a little too old to be called students in the ordinary sense are also grateful.

Readers will regret to learn that John Stott is taking a six-months’ leave from his arduous schedule, including his monthly column in CHRISTIANITY TODAY. He will welcome our prayers. And we will pray for re-creation of his weary body and soul and, God willing, for a speedy return to his regular schedule of writing for this magazine.

Notes on “Semana Santa”

A poem.

Notes on “Semana Santa”:

a town square, a seventeenth-century church of six-foot-thick adobe walls newly whitewashed for Semana Santa, church bells pealing the daily rythms of the townspeople

a richly textured, three-dimensional world—brightly colored shawls, swooping skirts like moths and butterflies, woodsmoke rising from thatched roofs, market stalls, crowded buses with huge bundles on top, flowers that grow by the grace of God—and processions, always religious processions, with images of the saints whose history is mixed with the old Mayan religion

Calvario—a pilgrimage chapel on a mountain top, the street from the church in the town square to Calvario, our house along that street

Semana Santa—Holy Week, larger-than-life statues of Jesus carrying the cross, Jesus on the cross, Jesus in the coffin, images of the Marys and the various saints, hundreds of penitents bearing these images over carpets painstakingly designed with colored sawdust, pine needles, and flower petals

we rushing out our front door at every sound of a procession coming, we finally settling on chairs with cups of coffee in our front garden, watching for hours on end, we climbing on rooftops, trees and ladders to take pictures

processions all day and all night on Thursday, Good Friday, and “Sabado de Gloria,” incense, chanting, singing, brass instruments playing a dirge, snare drums, church bells, candles, we feeling depression

Sunday morning—after the rending dirge, we expecting unbridled oboes, and wildly improvising trumpets; everything quiet, thousands of people who line the streets yesterday now at rest—no singing woodwinds, no marimba, no trumpets, no dancing in the streets

Book Briefs: May 29, 1981

A Biblical Radical

The Radical Wesley and Patterns of Church Renewal, by Howard A. Snyder (Inter-Varsity, 1980, 188 pp., $5.25), is reviewed by Paul A. Mickey, associate professor of pastoral theology, Duke University Divinity School, Durham, North Carolina.

Was John Wesley Anabaptist? Yes! Was he Anglican? Yes! Author Howard Snyder says so.

Was John Wesley Establishment? Definitely! Was he a Charismatic? But, of course! That, too, is Snyder’s word on Wesley.

Come, come now, one might protest. But Snyder insists—and I agree—that Wesley was a radical in the truest biblical sense of the word. The secret to the radical Wesley is his doctrine of the church (pp. 5–7) that at one and the same time places emphasis equally on inner experience (Moravian, Anabaptist, Mennonite influence), the sacraments (Church of England and Roman Catholic influence), and the outward, social witness through the Classes and Societies (Wesley’s own theory).

In Chapter 11, “The Wesleyan Synthesis,” we are told how the unique and powerful theological and practical syntheses of apparent opposites were kept in balance as John Wesley rediscovered and reintegrated the radical biblical themes of institutional and charismatic dimensions of the church and Christian experience (pp. 150, 154).

The other equally radical aspect of Wesley’s ministry was his identification with the poor. In his Journal, March 31, 1739, he writes, “At four in the afternoon I submitted to be more vile, and proclaimed in the highways the glad tidings of salvation.” The Wesleyan revival spread primarily because “it was a movement largely for and among the poor” (p. 33).

I found greatest help in chapter 3, “Preaching to the Poor,” and in chapter 12, “Wesley and the Church Today,” in which a critique of Wesley’s social and political conservatism is offered (pp. 150–60).

Snyder provides a very insightful study of Wesley, illuminating the spiritual depth, theological strength, and social radicality of Wesley, the reformer and evangelist. The evangelical spirit in Wesleyan circles is on the move again, and Howard Snyder is an excellent guide to challenge that move to the depths that made John Wesley the biblical radical he was and wanted his followers to be.

The Celtic Church As Example

Renewal in Christ, As the Celtic Church Led “the Way,” by Edward W. Stimson (Vantage Press, 1979, 372 pp., $10.00), is reviewed by Robert M. Sutton, professor of history and director of the Illinois Historical Survey at the University of Illinois, Urbana.

Every now and then a book appears that seems to have more than one audience in mind. Renewal in Christ is clearly one of those books. It is on the one hand a historical treatise that explores the activity and vitality of the early Celtic church in Britain, Scotland, and Ireland; but it is also a plea for late twentieth-century church renewal based upon the fundamentals of the faith as practiced by Celtic believers of the early Christian era.

Edward Stimson is a scholar and an evangelical Christian now retired after a long and fruitful ministry in the United Presbyterian church. One cannot help being genuinely impressed by his skillful weaving of history with tradition, as well as his sincere and deeply felt personal concern for the “Way.”

The history of the early church with which Stimson deals is largely unknown in this country. Reconstructing what at times must be a shadowy account of the interaction of secular and clerical leaders, he frequently allows the participants to speak for themselves from the sources. This is especially true of his treatment of Saint Patrick and his remarkable accomplishments during the fifth century A.D.

There is a ring of prophetic truth about the volume as the author shows from history how the Celtic church not only evangelized the greater part of the British Isles, but also renewed the faith in Europe with a missionary zeal that reached all the way from Ireland to Lombardy, Switzerland, and lands beyond the Rhine and Danube. Implicit in all of this is Stimson’s deep concern for the church in our world today, and his strongly held hope that the example of the Celtic church may serve as a paradigm to call his own beloved United Presbyterian church back to a more wholesome balance between biblical nurture and legitimate social concern.

Perhaps Stimson’s prescription could have an even wider application. Can anyone doubt the need for the Celtic heritage with its emphasis on the New Testament “way” of truth and life in Jesus Christ to reawaken and inspire us all?

Theology For A New Generation

Lectures in Systematic Theology, by Henry C. Thiessen and revised by Vernon D. Doerksen (Eerdmans, 1979, 450 pp., $13.95), is reviewed by Charles C. Ryrie, professor of systematic theology, Dallas Theological Seminary, Dallas, Texas.

In his time, Thiessen, the late chairman of the faculty of the graduate school at Wheaton College, stood as a giant of orthodoxy. His one-volume theology was widely used during the 30 years before this revision was done by Vernon Doerksen, associate dean at Talbot Theological Seminary.

Anyone acquainted with the original work will especially want to know what kinds of revisions have been made. The preface indicates that certain sections—such as those on inspiration, election, imputation, pretribulationism—have been “extensively revised”; newer source material has replaced some citations from older authorities; a bibliography has been added; and the NASB has been used in place of the ASV.

The revision appears, on rough calculation, to be about 70 pages shorter overall. Indexes have been adapted; there are relatively few footnotes, new or old, though there are many Scripture references. The revision preserves the very teachable outline and often polishes it. The original pretribulational, premillennial position of Thiessen has been strengthened in the chapter on the Rapture.

Any reviewer can find something he might wish had been added or elaborated; but certainly, five lines on inerrancy in a section that was extensively revised, is far too little for the 1980s.

Especially interesting are the evident differences between Thiessen and Doerksen. Thiessen believed foreknowledge on which election was based was prescience; Doerksen relates foreknowledge to actual choice. Thiessen allowed for a long interval between Genesis 1:1 and 1:2; Doerksen prefers not to do so. Thiessen was noncommittal about the length of the creative days; Doerksen may prefer solar days. Thiessen favored the Augustinian view of imputed sin; Doerksen proposes the “corporate personality view.” Certainly the inclusion of these alternate views is desirable; but one wonders about the propriety of not indicating in any way which views are not Thiessen’s.

Laymen, pastors, and teachers who liked the original Thiessen volume will find this revision even more useful.

Early Christian Communities

The Community of the Beloved Disciple, by Raymond Brown (Paulist Press, 1979, 204 pp., $3.95), is reviewed by David W. Wead, pastor of Boones Creek Church of Christ, Johnson City, Tennessee, and assistant professor of Bible at Johnson Bible College, Knoxville, Tennessee.

This work comes out of research requisite to Brown’s presidential address before the Society of Biblical Literature in 1977 and the Shaffer Lectures he delivered at Yale in 1978. The book portrays the development of one segment of the earliest church, that connected with the “Beloved Disciple,” in the period 30 to 60 years after the lifetime of Jesus.

Brown believes that the original group who accepted Jesus as the Davidic Messiah joined with another antitemple group who understood Jesus against a Mosaic background. Together they developed a high, preexistent Christology that led to their expulsion from the Jewish synagogue. This high Christology also led to a split separating them from certain elements of Jewish Christianity. In a third stage, one segment of this community, “the secessionists,” denied that Jesus was fully human and took a path that ultimately led to Gnosticism. The orthodox group, seen in the Epistles, confessed Jesus’ full humanity and ultimately came back into union with the Great Church.

Brown bases his “detective work” on the presupposition that the Sitz im Leben of that particular segment of Christianity would lead them to preserve in their writings (the Gospel and epistles of John) those events and teachings from the life of Jesus that had become a part of their own experience. Thus we can trace the history of the community of the Beloved Disciple from its choice of events, and the attitudes important enough to be preserved in the writings.

Not everyone will agree with Brown’s thesis; however, the study done and the lines of thought opened up make for interesting reading. It is well worth the effort just to keep one’s own perceptions sharpened up.

Pornography Rejected

Pornography: A Christian Critique, by John H. Court (InterVarsity, 1980, 96 pp., $2.95), is reviewed by Robert C. Roberts, Department of Philosophy and Religion, Western Kentucky University, Bowling Green, Kentucky.

J. H. Court, a clinical psychologist, examines some arguments for allowing pornography to be available to the general public. He aims much of his discussion at the 1970 Presidential Commission Report on Obscenity and Pornography, which concluded that pornographic materials do not increase sex crimes, and indeed, tend to decrease them by diverting potential offenders from crime into harmless looking at magazines and watching of movies. It also suggested that if pornography is freely available, people soon tire of it and sales drop off, reducing the criminal activities associated with the trade. Another argument holds that restrictive laws against pornography violate freedom of speech.

Along with the arguments above. Court expounds three other “arguments.” He points out that perverts like the Marquis de Sade prefer hatred to love, and might argue that pornography is good because it is destructive. Some revolutionaries argue that it is a good thing because it leads to the destruction of the family, while others argue that it is good because it loosens up traditional standards of sexual morality. These “arguments” are obviously not the sort that would be used in a presidential commission report. Neither would the first two be likely to have wide appeal as arguments. The book, which is organized around these various “arguments,” thus gives a certain feeling of organizational artificiality.

Court therefore is addressing two rather different challenges to Christian intuitions about pornography: one is sociological, and one is philosophical. I cannot give expert judgment on Court’s sociological arguments, but they seem convincing to me: all the arguments holding that when pornographic materials become more available sex crimes decrease and the public becomes satiated are either bad arguments or based on highly questionable data. The truth seems to be that sex crimes do increase with greater availability of pornography.

I also accept Court’s philosophical observation that you cannot argue morals with people whose world view is that destroying people, or the nuclear family, or people’s moral inhibitions about sex, is a good thing. In contest with such people, all we can do is to continue to hold up the Christian world view, and warn those who are well disposed toward it not to be duped by the tactics of the destroyers. In response to those who say that restricting pornography violates freedom of speech. Court insists that freedom of speech must always be qualified: we do not allow people the freedom to libel one another, and similarly we should not allow them the freedom to corrupt our minds.

If the book were written more clearly, I would recommend it without qualification. As it stands, I simply recommend it.

The Final Triumph Of God

Songs of Heaven, by Robert E. Coleman (Revell, 1980, 159 pp., $6.95), is reviewed by Sylvia Rose Rolland, librarian, Renewal Center, Florissant, Missouri.

What about worship in heaven? In this unusual devotional study, the author highlights the “songs heard around the throne” as he presents and explains the Book of the Revelation in language that every adult reader can understand.

He states his purpose is to “lift out the songs in the Revelation, see them in their context, analyze their essential messages, and then apply some pertinent aspects of the truth to our lives today.” He achieves this goal in an appealing manner throughout the book. Some of the appeal seems to stem from the character of the book, which is meditative-reflective, rather than academic-disputative.

Occasional overstatements occur. I note, for example, Coleman states in chapter 3 that “redemption is solely the unmerited gift of eternal love,” that “Jesus literally paid it all,” that “all man can do is quit the futile game of pretending to be self-sufficient, affirm the completed work of Christ, and by simple faith receive the transfusion of the Savior’s life.”

There are Christians who might contend that this fails to convey the total truth, and that faith without works is dead. However, it should be pointed out that in chapter 10, in explaining the judgment of the righteous, Coleman does emphasize the necessity of good works in addition to and as a result of faith.

There is consistency in the presentation of all known theories and/or explanations of the Scripture quotations used. This is definitely a good feature that helps the reader realize that no single interpretation is being pressed. The relationship of the Book of the Revelation to our everyday life is well delineated, giving the book a strong, practical value. An additional asset is the book’s extensive and thorough bibliography.

The spirit of this book is twofold: one of peaceful reassurance of the final triumph of good, and one of joy in our own participation now in heavenly worship.

Anyone who wants to find the right blend of ingredients to make the Book of the Revelation appealing, satisfying, and useful in living the Christian life more deeply will surely find it here.

A Very Great Man

John R. Mott, 1865–1955: A Biography, by C. Howard Hopkins (Eerdmans, 1979, 816 pp., $19.95), is reviewed by William C. Ringenberg, professor of history, Taylor University, Upland, Indiana.

Lives of great men oft remind us,

We can make our lives sublime;

And departing leave behind us

Footprints in the sands of time.

C. Howard Hopkins presents John R. Mott as both a great and a unique man. While the label “great” is ascribed to more people than it actually fits, and while few people are truly unique, Hopkins convincingly supports his claim for his subject.

Under Mott’s direction at the turn of the century, the American college YMCA movement reached its peak as the most widespread student Christian organization in American history. Almost simultaneously he became the director of the Y’s missionary arm, the Student Volunteer Movement, (SVM), through which thousands of superbly trained and able youths committed themselves to careers as foreign missionaries. Mott traveled almost constantly to organize and visit student organizations.

In 1891 he made the first of over 100 Atlantic crossings to study and promote the international student movement. A 20-month world tour in the mid-1890s resulted in the formation of the worldwide counterpart of the American Y movement, the World Student Christian Federation (WSCF), the leadership of which he then added to his continuing duties with the American student Y work and the SVM.

Just as Mott sought to unite Christian students throughout the world into the WSCF, so also in his later years he became increasingly interested in the unity of Christians of all ages and countries. His efforts contributed significantly to the growing ecumenical movement that in his lifetime culminated in the founding of the World Council of Churches in 1948. Unlike many of the leaders and supporters of the WCC and the YMCA, he did not abandon his concern for personal evangelism as he became increasingly interested in social concerns and church unity.

Mott enjoyed the privilege of being honored as a prophet in his own time. President Woodrow Wilson spoke for many when he described him as “certainly one of the most useful men of the world.” His repute is further illustrated by the attractive positions that were offered to him—and which he turned down (e.g., the presidencies of Moody Bible Institute, Oberlin College, and Princeton University; the deanship of Yale Divinity School; the leadership of the Federal Council of Churches of Christ; and the post of ambassador to China). He received the Nobel Prize for Peace in 1946. Perhaps no one has exerted so much influence for good on American college students. Few Americans have been as well known—and appreciated—abroad.

Despite Mott’s great importance in the history of Christianity during the first half of the twentieth century and before, he has not been a well-known figure to the modern generation. Therein lies the importance of this book, for it is the first comprehensive biography of Mott. He now should become increasingly recognized and appreciated. My fear, however, is that the book is so comprehensive that its great length will limit the number of readers. Rarely should a popular biography exceed 400 to 500 pages—not even for a Mott.

Whatever the ultimate readership of the book, Hopkins has written a biography worthy of his subject. He literally followed Mott around the world in search of source material, and committed 15 years of his life to the project. Hopkins’s qualifications for the task were as great as his dedication to it, for he previously authored standard histories of the YMCA in America, and the social gospel in America. The result is a very good biography of a very great man.

BRIEFLY NOTED

Numerous books covering the Reformation have recently appeared. Surveys, as well as primary sources, are among them. In particular, works related to neglected Reformation traditions are appearing in greater numbers.

Surveys. Lewis Spitz’s valuable 1971 The Renaissance and Reformation Movements, two volumes (Concordia), has been republished in paperback. It will be gratefully used by a new generation of students; unfortunately, however, the bibliographies were not updated. A straightforward, somewhat political history of the time is Europe in the Reformation (Prentice-Hall), by Peter J. Klassen. Theology and Revolution in the Scottish Reformation (Christian Univ. Press/Eerdmans), by Richard L. Greaves, are nicely done studies in the thought of John Knox. Rome and the Counter-Reformation in Scandinavia (Universitetsforlaget, Oslo; Columbia Univ. Press), by Oskar Garstein, is volume two of a study, this one covering 1583–1622. The work is without peer on the subject and certain to be definitive. The notes and bibliography alone cover almost 200 pages.

Sources.Luther: Early Theological Works (Westminster), edited by James Atkinson, contains four important works from 1517–21. The Theologia Germania of Martin Luther (Paulist), edited by Bengt Hoffman, is a fine translation of Luther’s 1518 version of this important earlier work. Luther placed it next to the Bible and Augustine in value. Melancthon and Bucer (Westminster), edited by Wilhelm Pauck, is primarily the Loci Communes Theologici and De Regno Christi. Analysis of the Institutes of the Christian Religion of John Calvin (Baker), by the late Ford Lewis Battles, is an excellent outline of Calvin’s Institutes. Erasmus on His Times (Cambridge Univ.), by Margaret Mann Phillips, is a shortened version of The Adages of Erasmus, now in paperback. John Eck’s Enchiridion of Commonplaces Against Luther and Other Enemies of the Church (Baker) has been translated by the late Ford Lewis Battles. This is the only available English translation of Eck’s controversial work. Martin Chemnitz’s Enchiridion has been nicely translated into English by Luther Poellot in Ministry, Word, and Sacraments (Concordia). J. C. Wenger has put together selected writings from sixteenth-century Anabaptists in A Faith to Live By (Herald Press).

Studies. H. G. Haile has written an experimental biography, developing primarily the later years in Luther (Doubleday). The Life and Faith of Martin Luther (Northwestern), by Adolph Fehlauer, will be appreciated by high-schoolers. Reflections on Luther’s Small Catechism (Concordia), by Daniel Overduin, is a set of four short paperbacks that effectively develops Luther’s basic thoughts. A major contribution to Luther studies is Luther and Staupitz (Duke Univ. Press), by David C. Steinmetz. No Other Gospel (Northwestern), edited by Arnold J. Koelpin, is a helpful collection of essays in commemoration of the four-hundredth anniversary of the Formula of Concord. The Role of the Augsburg Confessions (Fortress/Paulist), edited by Joseph A. Burgess, is an irenic collection of Catholic and Lutheran essays. Potchefstroomse University for Christian Higher Education, R.S.A., has made available two valuable works; Contemporary Research on the Sixteenth Century Reformation and the nicely illustrated From Novon to Geneva: A Pilgrimage in the Steps of John Calvin (1509–1564), both by B. J. Van der Walt.

Heinrich Bullinger and the Covenant (Ohio Univ.), by J. Wayne Baker, is a major work that analyzes Bullinger’s place in the covenantal reformed tradition, arguing that he was the first covenant theologian. Two interesting works deal with the “radical reformation”: The Reformers and Their Stepchildren (Baker), by Leonard Verduin, and The Golden Years of the Hutterites: The Witness and Thought of the Communal Moravian Anabaptists during the Walpot Era. 1565–1578 (Herald Press), by Leonard Gross. Both are excellent studies.

The Waldensians: The First 800 Years (Claudiana/The American Waldensian Aid Society, 475 Riverside Dr., N. Y.) is an illustrated, helpful survey of this important tradition.

Apple PodcastsDown ArrowDown ArrowDown Arrowarrow_left_altLeft ArrowLeft ArrowRight ArrowRight ArrowRight Arrowarrow_up_altUp ArrowUp ArrowAvailable at Amazoncaret-downCloseCloseEmailEmailExpandExpandExternalExternalFacebookfacebook-squareGiftGiftGooglegoogleGoogle KeephamburgerInstagraminstagram-squareLinkLinklinkedin-squareListenListenListenChristianity TodayCT Creative Studio Logologo_orgMegaphoneMenuMenupausePinterestPlayPlayPocketPodcastRSSRSSSaveSaveSaveSearchSearchsearchSpotifyStitcherTelegramTable of ContentsTable of Contentstwitter-squareWhatsAppXYouTubeYouTube