The Book of Revelation is undoubtedly the most mysterious and at the same time the most intriguing part of the New Testament. Its open affirmation that it deals with future events, its weird symbolism of seals, trumpets, bowls, thunders and lightnings, beasts, and angels, its strange and sometimes almost incoherent expressions have frightened some from giving it the attention it deserves. For many readers it is either a frustrating puzzle or else the happy hunting ground of fanatics. Concluding that they can find in it nothing relevant to their spiritual welfare, they avoid it completely.

Its History

Since the earliest days of the Christian era Revelation has been under discussion. It was known and circulated in the Church in the first half of the second century. Justin Martyr (c. 145) used it, and ascribed it to John, one of the apostles of Christ. Melito, Bishop of Sardis in 170, wrote a commentary on the Apocalypse. Theophilus of Antioch (c. 175) quoted from it, and Irenaeus (c. 170) in no less than five passages alluded to it and asserted that it was written by the John who leaned on Jesus’ breast at the last supper. Clement of Alexandria (c. 200), Origen (c. 250), and others concurred in accepting it as of apostolic origin and canonical.

Authorship

The authorship of Revelation was disputed first by the Alogi, a heretical sect which seems to have had no great importance, and which was probably opposed to the Apocalypse for theological reasons. A more serious objection was raised by Dionysius, an honest and competent scholar who succeeded Origen as the head of the catechetical school in Alexandria. He reasoned that John, the son of Zebedee, did not write the Apocalypse because (1) the Revelation cites the name of its author, whereas the Fourth Gospel is anonymous; (2) the concepts, vocabulary and syntax of Revelation are radically different from the Gospel; (3) the Greek of the Apocalypse is ungrammatical, whereas the Greek of the Gospel, though not always idiomatic, is generally free from errors.

Dionysius’ arguments against the Johannine authorship have persisted to the present day. Eusebius, the great church historian of the fourth century, regarded the canonical status of the Apocalypse as doubtful, though he did not reject it utterly. In recent times R. H. Charles concluded that the Fourth Gospel and Revelation are not by the same author. Many modern scholars deny the apostolic authorship of Revelation completely.

On the other hand, there are a number of words and concepts, such as “word of God” as a title of Christ, “witness,” the concept of the “Lamb,” and some others that characterize both John and the Revelation, and are common to no other writings of the New Testament. Some of the grammatical irregularities can be explained by the use of fixed titles treated as indeclinable nouns. The writer may at times have used ungrammatical expressions, but he did not do so habitually. When he violated some rule of grammar, he did so because he had a purpose in mind, not because of ignorance.

Literary Form

A deeper cause than uncertainty of authorship has prompted some to reject Revelation. It belongs to the general class of apocalyptic literature, which employs highly symbolic language and which stresses the supernatural intervention of God in the affairs of men. For this reason it has been branded as wholly fanciful and unreal, and has been dismissed simply as a piece of wishful thinking, a lurid picture of the much desired triumph of right over wrong which has not yet been literally realized, and probably never will be. Truth, however, is not made or unmade by the literary form through which it is expressed; and in this case the Apocalypse differs from the ordinary Jewish apocalyptic writing in several ways. Although it possesses the usual characteristics noted above, it is not pseudonymous. It was written to seven actual churches in seven well-known cities, and its emphasis on practical ethics is different from the general trend of apocalyptic works.

Author

Internal evidence concerning the author shows that his name was John, and that he was a familiar figure among the churches of Asia to whom the Apocalypse was first sent. He calls himself their brother (Rev. 1:9). He had lived among them long enough to share in the persecutions and trials which they had endured for Christ. At the time of writing Revelation he was in the island of Patmos, probably as a prisoner of the Emperor. While immured there, he saw the visions of which the book speaks, and he committed them to parchment.

Date

Various dates of writing have been proposed, but the best choice seems to be about A. D. 95, near the close of the reign of Domitian. Irenaeus, Victorinus, Eusebius and Jerome all agree that it was written at that time, and the internal evidence tends to support their testimony. The fact that several of the Asian churches had backslidden demands time enough for their rise and fall. If they were founded in the active ministry of Paul, between A. D. 50 and 60, it is doubtful if the Revelation could have been written as early as the reign of Nero in A. D. 65. By Domitian’s time a second generation would have arisen concerning whom the charges of having left their first love and of harboring false teachers, or of having grown self-satisfied and lukewarm, would be more easily true. It probably marks the beginning of outward tension between the Church and the empire which eventuated in the persecution of the second and third centuries.

Interpretation

The interpretations of Revelation have been almost as numerous as its expositors. Generally they may be divided into four classes: the futurists, who regard all of Revelation beyond the third chapter as future, belonging to the period immediately preceding the advent of Christ; the historicists, who interpret the sequence of seals, trumpets, and bowls as depicting the entire course of history from the close of the apostolic age until the end of time; the preterists, who interpret Revelation as a figurative representation of the conflict between the Church and the empire at the end of the first century; and the idealists, who divest the prophecy of any chronological significance, and who make it simply a symbolic picture of the eternal conflict of the righteousness of God and the machinations of Satan.

While not all of these interpretations can be final, there is a measure of truth in each of them. The futurist can claim rightly that “the things which must be hereafter” (4:1) apply to the future, or, at least, to the future of the writer. The historicist has the advantage of continuity in interpretation, rather than assigning the bulk of the book to one narrow period in the remote future. The preterist recognizes the relevance of Revelation to the day in which it was written, and attempts to show how the symbols and thought are rooted in the history and vocabulary of the first century. The idealist tries to maintain the spiritual emphasis of the book with its theological and ethical teachings, rather than to lose himself in a maze of inexplicable details.

Structure And Content

The best approach to Revelation, however, is through its internal structure. If the book were to have any meaning for the churches to whom it was first addressed, it must have been sufficiently plain for them to comprehend its main message, even though details would have to be studied and absorbed gradually. How would they have understood it?

Revelation can be divided naturally into six main sections. The first of these, the Prologue (T. 1–8) contains the introductory details. It is organized like the title page of a book. The title, “The Revelation of Jesus Christ,” announces the subject. The book is primarily concerned with the person of Christ as he relates himself to the events of the future. The method of impartation of this revelation is indicated by the word “signified,” which means literally to declare by symbols, or to respond as an oracle would to an inquirer in enigmatic language. The word is used three times in the Gospel of John about Jesus’ death (12:33, 18:32, 21:19), and in each instance it means the figurative statement of a predicted fact. In the introduction to Revelation it conveys the idea that the content of the book will be symbolic, and that it will deal with realities.

The name of the author is the next item on the title page, coupled with the statement that he “bare record of the word of God and of the testimony of Jesus Christ, and of all things that he saw” (1:2). The language is that of the Fourth Gospel, and one cannot avoid the feeling that the writer sought to identify himself by his previous work, which was presumably known to the churches of Asia. He acted as the messenger of Christ, and he claimed only subordinate authority (22:10). Nevertheless he expected that the words of his book would be heard and obeyed as the very message of God.

The destination was the seven churches of Asia. Just why these seven should have been selected is not stated. There were more than seven churches in Asia by the end of the first century. Perhaps these were chosen because they were representative of different types which existed then, and which collectively make a picture of the churches of the entire age to follow.

The greeting from the Triune God, the eternal Father, the sevenfold Spirit, and the redeeming Son, sets the doctrinal tone of the book. Redemption is stressed in Christ’s character, “the faithful witness, the firstbegotten of the dead, the prince of the kings of the earth”; in Christ’s work, “he loved us … loosed us … made us”; and in Christ’s prospect, “Behold, he cometh with clouds.…” The seventh verse declares unmistakably that the theme of Revelation will be Christ’s return, which will complete and crown his redemptive work for men.

The eighth verse, the last of the Introduction, is like the publisher’s name on the title page. It declares God’s approval of the work and his responsibility for it.

The main body of the book is divided into four visions, each of which is introduced by the phrase, “… in the Spirit” (1:10, 4:2, 17:3, 21:10). “In the Spirit” does not mean “a spiritual attitude,” but rather refers to the control of the Holy Spirit over the mind and person of the author so that he was transported in mystic fashion to the surroundings which he describes. The first states that he was “in the island that is called Patmos” (1:9), a definite geographical location; the second, that he was called up to heaven where he saw a throne set (4:1, 2); the third, that he was removed to “a wilderness” (17:3); and the fourth, that he was placed in “a mountain great and high” 21:10).

The four divisions consist of two balanced pairs. Each member of the first pair is introduced by “a great voice” (1:10, 4:1), and each member of the second pair by “one of the seven angels that had the seven bowls” (17:1, 21:9). These contrast the divine discipline of the churches and the judgments on the world. The second couple contrasts the fall of Babylon, representing the spiritual organization of godless civilization and the ultimate perfection of the Bride, the heavenly Jerusalem, which is the perfected community of the redeemed.

Furthermore, each of the divisions in Revelation marks some aspect of the character of Christ as he brings redemption to perfection. Perhaps this can he stated best in a brief outline:

Prologue: Christ Communicating 1:1–8

Vision I: Christ in the Church 1:9–3:22

Vision II: Christ in the Cosmos 4:1–16:21

Vision III: Christ in Conquest 17:1–21:8

Vision IV: Christ in Consummation 21:9–22:5

Epilogue: Christ Challenging 22:6–21

The progress of the outline is evident in the text. As already noted, the Prologue states that the entire book will be occupied with the Revelation of Jesus Christ which God gave to him to communicate to his servants. This revelation carries the work of redemption into the future, and purports to show what the final scope and effect of salvation will be. Grounded in the pivotal events of Christ’s death and resurrection, the purpose of God will be carried forward in the process of human history until evil is overcome and the Kingdom shall be finally established. So certain is this outcome that the Prologue states the fact as past: “he made us to be a kingdom, priests unto his God and Father …” (1:6, ARV).

The first vision opens with a portrait of Christ clothed in priestly garments, moving among his churches on a tour of inspection. Their weaknesses and their virtues are typical of the Church of all ages. Reproof and commendation are given to all in proportion to their respective merits. It is noteworthy that the future advent of the Lord which seems indefinite in the letter to Ephesus, “… or else I come to thee” (2:5, ARV), is in the letter to Laodicea an imminent fact, “… Behold, I stand at the door and knock” (3:20). The first message of the book is to the Church, for “judgment must begin at the house of God.”

The second vision deals with the world-process of judgment, administered by God’s delegated agent. Two symbolic words dominate the thought of this section. The vision is set in heaven, but the focus of attention is not fixed on the surroundings but on the throne, in relation to which all other figures are located and from which proceeds the action of judgment. In this way the sovereignty of God over the affairs of the world is asserted. The deputy of this sovereignty is “a Lamb as it had been slain,” who takes from the right hand of the Occupant of the throne the seven-sealed scroll which gives him the authority to exercise judgment upon the earth. “Lamb” emphasizes the sacrificial aspect of Christ. He is the enduring Atonement for sin upon whom the divine judgment has already fallen, and because he has made Atonement he is capable of bringing the final victory over evil.

The entire section that follows is given over to cataclysmic judgments through which the people of God are miraculously preserved, and by which the culminating organization of evil—political, social, economic, and religious—under the domination of the “Beast,” is finally crushed. Revelation presents the current world process as a titanic struggle of supernatural forces in which human governments, societies and religions are involved, and which will eventuate in a climactic rebellion against God, terminated by the advent of Christ in judgment.

The final aspect of this judgment which is the climax of redemption is told in the two remaining visions. Christ in Conquest (17:3–21:8) reveals the Word of God on the white horse, judging and making war in righteousness. The fall of Babylon, the city in which organized wickedness reaches its fullest manifestation, the destruction of the beast and his armies who have rebelled against God, the imprisonment of Satan for a thousand years, his release and final doom, the millennial reign of Christ, and the introduction of the city of God fulfil the purpose of redemption.

In contrast to this vision of the overthrow of evil, the last vision (21:9–22:5) reveals Christ in Consummation, the everlasting joy of his redeemed people. The term “Lamb” is reintroduced, evidently as a reminder that redemption will be the basis for the eternal state and its chief delight. The city of God, with streets of gold and gates of pearl, may be figurative; but if so, the language is an attempt to describe the indescribable—God’s ultimate destiny for his people. Seven negations contrast this city with the cities of men as they were known in the ancient world: (1) no temple, (2) no sun or moon, (3) no closed gates, (4) no uncleanness, (5) no curse, (6) no night, (7) no artificial light. In contrast to each of these points the Lamb supplies a true worship, a true light, an open welcome, a holy populace, the blessing of his presence, and the eternal illumination of the presence of deity. The New Jerusalem will restore to the saved all the blessings that man lost by his sin in Eden.

The Epilogue (22:6–21) focuses the theme of the book in one climactic appeal. The threefold repetition of the theme, “I come quickly,” with its accompanying exhortations, challenge the will to obey, the moral nature to prepare for Christ’s coming, and the emotional desire to see the Lord. It makes all the preceding text the practical foundation for an attitude of readiness and alertness in view of Christ’s promised return.

Tools For Study

Commentaries and expositions of Revelation are almost numberless. The most complete critical work on the Greek text are the two volumes on Revelation by R. H. Charles in the International Critical Commentary. Charles was the most learned scholar of recent times in the field of apocalyptic literature, but his literary criticism was radical. Swete’s commentary is not quite so exhaustive as Charles’, but it is thorough. William Lee’s commentary on Revelation in The Bible Commentary is helpful to the student who wants discussion of detail. The earliest and the most popular of the premillennial futurist commentaries is J. A. Seiss’ Lectures on the Apocalypse. A more recent volume in the same category is Wm. R. Newell’s verse-by-verse exposition. Milligan’s treatment of Revelation in Schaff’s Popular Commentary on the New Testament is both scholarly and practical. The most recent general conservative commentary is The New Bible Commentary by Davidson, Stibbs and Kevan. Its discussion of Revelation is necessarily brief, but it is up to date. Sir William Ramsay’s Letters to the Seven Churches of Asia contains a wealth of material by an expert archaeologist on the historical setting of Revelation. It is hard to say which is the best commentary on Revelation, since each one has a different approach, and since many may excel in different ways.

There is no easy road to an understanding of Revelation, but prayerful acceptance of what one does understand, with equally prayerful meditation on what one does not understand, will bring a growing appreciation of this book which after all has the same theme as the rest of the New Testament—the person of Christ.

MERRILL C. TENNEY

• The procedure followed in the above article is developed much more fully in Dr. Tenney’s recent volume, Interpreting Revelation.—ED.

Original Sources

A New Eusebius, edited by J. Stevenson, Macmillan, 1957. $4.50.

The best way to study history is, of course, by reading the original sources. In most areas, however, they are so voluminous that time permits very few people to follow that policy. The history of the ancient church is an exception. Here the sources are relatively few, and a reasonable number of them may be read within the average man’s time budget. But are they accessible? The answer is: Yes, increasingly so. One of the newest and best helps to that end is the present volume. Just as the original Eusebius made up a large part of his text by quotation from earlier writers, this is a source book in which are gathered for the reader the most important documents or extracts from them in English translation.

The volume is based on an earlier collection, now out of print, B. J. Kidd: Documents Illustrative of the History of the Church, and covers the period up to 337. It is, however, an improvement upon the already very useful Kidd. It contains more selections (319, of which 266 cover the period of Kidd, v. I as against 225 in the latter). The arrangement of the selections by subject rather than by author’s date is a great advance in usefulness. Explanatory notes are added at the end of a large number of selections. There are very useful annotations on the source documents and their authors, a fine set of chronological tables, an endpaper map and an extensive index. Anyone interested in the ancient church needs to have the volume at hand.

PAUL WOOLLEY

Novel Solution

The Hill of Stoning, by Edward V. Ruskin, Vantage, New York, 1956. $3.50.

Puzzled as all evangelical expositors have been by the dilemma of Jesus’ apparent expectation of an early return to earth and by his apparent failure to do so, the writer of this book attempts a novel and somewhat startling solution. He proposes that the appearance of Jesus to the dying Stephen was the fulfilment of his promised return, and that he was secretly and invisibly present with the Church ever thereafter. He adopts the “year-day” theory of chronology, making the 69 weeks of Daniel 9 equal to the chronological span between the edict of Cyrus to rebuild Jerusalem and the public appearance of the Messiah on Palm Sunday. The seventieth week he interprets as the time between Palm Sunday and the conversion of Cornelius, with the midpoint of the week at Stephen’s martyrdom.

The “he” of Daniel 9:27 he refers to the Messiah, not to the “prince that shall come” of verse 26. The cessation of the sacrifice he equates with the sermon of Stephen, who pointed out that the worship of God did not need either sacrifice or Temple. The “one that maketh desolate” he asserts is Saul of Tarsus, who desolated the Church by persecution.

Along with this revolutionary hypothesis he suggests some other equally unconventional interpretations. The election of Matthias was a mistake which prepared the way for the establishment of a hierarchy in the Church. Stephen was the “beloved disciple” of the Fourth Gospel, and its author. Peter was in error when he wrote that “the Lord is not slack concerning His promise as some count slackness” (2 Pet. 3:9), because he did not recognize the fact that Jesus had already come. His statement, therefore, has misled the entire Christian Church since then, and has obscured the truth which has only recently been made plain to the author of this book. James, the moderator of the Jerusalem church and brother of Jesus, was a Jew at heart rather than a Christian, an enemy of Paul, and a traitor to Christian faith who did nothing to rescue Peter from prison or to avert the arrest of Paul in Jerusalem.

While new light on Scripture is always welcome to its students, Mr. Ruskin’s interpretations will not meet universal approval. Too many of them are unproved and probably unprovable. For instance, while it may be possible that the Fourth Gospel was written—though perhaps not published—in the first decade of the Christian Church, there is no external evidence whatever that it was written by Stephen, and the internal evidence adduced here is quite inconclusive.

Neither in history nor in eschatology does this book make a very convincing case for its contentions. The author fails to explain how Jesus’ predictions of a final judgment could have been fulfilled if his return took place in 35 A.D., nor why the epistles of Paul, written after that, should still predict his future advent. His theory of the tension between Peter and James on the one hand and Stephen and Paul on the other sounds like a counterpart of the Tubingen theory of a century ago. It makes interesting reading, but it cannot be considered as the final interpretation of Christianity in the apostolic age.

MERRILL C. TENNEY

Guide For Study

The Epistle to the Hebrews, by Gleason L. Archer, Jr., Baker, 1957. $1.50.

This is a Bible study handbook of great value. Based on an exhaustive study of the Greek and Hebrew, it presents a summary of the literary questions connected with the epistle, a detailed analysis of the epistle in outline form and then an exposition corresponding to the outline by way of definition, explanation and suggestion.

For a minister preaching through the book of Hebrews this little book will be most suggestive and will take the form of a guide. For a lay student wishing to master the contents of the book of Hebrews, Dr. Archer’s treatise will be most illuminating.

H. J. OCKENGA

“Biblical” Preaching

The Integrity of Preaching, by John Knox, Abingdon, 1957. $1.75.

These days everyone seems to be jumping on the bandwagon of biblical preaching. In this little volume the author, professor at Union Theological Seminary, New York, makes an eloquent plea for the cause. Biblical preaching he recognizes as a pressing need of the day, but he defines it as expounding texts as recurring events in our history and as concerning the great event, Christ. Such preaching, he believes, will be personal, priestly and sacramental.

With many things in the book one is in hearty agreement. There is a pressing need for biblical preaching; there is a need for teaching from the pulpit; there must be careful study of the text and historical circumstances of the passage; and every preacher certainly should immerse himself in his own message before ministering to others.

However, these thrusts of the book in the right direction are largely abrogated by the author’s basic position. To him biblical preaching is not really Bible preaching. In reality the Bible is merely a witness to what we should preach and not the substance which we preach. While the book emphasizes the need for faithful pursuit of the art of exegesis, the impression is left that biblical preaching must not emphasize the historical facts which occurred in the first century. Again, while the author pleads for preaching which concerns what he calls the central event of the Bible, Christ, and although he mentions many of the important events of the life of Christ—even atonement—he fails ever to include preaching about the blood of Christ. Furthermore, the author’s conception of authority in preaching is not based on biblical preaching but on relevant (twentieth century) preaching. Somewhere in the background, one suspects, there has been strong neo-orthodox influence moulding this manuscript.

To those who may read this book: (1) beware of the basic position, and (2) be aware of what is not said as well as what is said.

CHARLES C. RYRIE

Constant In Prayer

The Sure Victory, by Madame Chiang Kai-shek, Revell, 1957. $1.00.

It is important and interesting for us to be informed concerning the religious faith of such a personality as Madame Chiang Kai-shek. This little book (45 pages) is a kind of spiritual autobiography. The author tells of the remarkable faith of her mother and shows how her own faith developed from the early formal, intellectual faith to a genuine heart faith, deepened largely through the experiences of the difficult years of Japanese terrorism and Communist infiltration.

The “sure victory” over the forces of evil in this world is through prayer, the author claims. She describes the way in which her little prayer group has grown and many others have sprung up throughout Formosa. She tells of how much has been accomplished through their efforts, including the supplying of Christian chaplains for the Chinese armed forces. She makes a plea for a chain of prayer groups throughout the world as the means of achieving victory over non-Christian ideologies.

Surely we rejoice at this insistence upon the importance of prayer in the individual Christian life and the power of prayer in world affairs. But the fact that these prayer groups were originated outside the Christian church appears to be a sad commentary upon the condition of the Protestant church in Free China. Is it not because the church has failed to provide an earnest, vital fellowship of prayer and failed to possess an evangelistic zeal that would make it reach out to the lives of those who were in need of the Gospel that Madame Chiang and her friends were compelled to begin prayer groups of their own? And is it not regrettable that the zeal of these prayer groups is not being incorporated into the church as well as strengthened by the doctrinal backbone that the church should be able to offer?

NORMA R. ELLIS

Young Churches

The Church in Southeast Asia, by Rajah B. Manikam and Winburn T. Thomas, Friendship, New York. Cl. $2.50, pap. $1.25.

This book was written under the sponsorship of the Joint Commission on Missionary Education of the National Council of Churches of Christ in the U. S. A. as a mission study book for adults. Leaders of study groups will find this book basic for mission study.

The authors are exceptionally well-equipped for the preparation of this survey. Dr. Manikam, a native of India, has done post-graduate work in the U. S., earning both Ph.D. and B.D. degrees. For 20 years he was an active leader in the National Christian Council of India. From 1950 to 1955 he was joint secretary in East Asia of the World Council of Churches and the International Missionary Council, a position that required travel throughout Southeast Asia and provided an intimate knowledge of the life and work of the Church. Since January, 1956, Dr. Manikam has been Bishop of the Tranquebar of the Federation of Evangelical Lutheran Churches of India.

Dr. Thomas is a native of Arkansas who in 1933 went to Japan as a missionary under the Board of Foreign Missions of the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. The years of World War II were spent in the U.S. where he earned his Ph.D. and served with the Student Volunteer Movement. He has traveled extensively in the Far East and since 1951 has been field representative in Indonesia of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in U.S.A., living in Djakarta.

In the compass of this brief volume of 167 pages is packed a mass of information of the Church in every country of this area. An account of the political situation of each country is presented. The culture and religions of these lands are discussed and the Church is seen in her environment, problems, state of health, progress and prospects.

Of special interest is the effect of nationalism and communism both upon the Church and upon work of missions.

Surprising is the strength of the churches. For example, in Indonesia there are thirty autonomous church bodies, numbering 5,000 to 600,000 Christians each. There is a Protestant “community” of about 5,000,000.

The vast numbers of the unreached is overwhelming, nearly 175,000,000, and the density of this population is almost unbelievable. In the delta near Saigon (Indo-China) up to 6,000 rural people are living in each square mile.

The Church in Southeast Asia is chiefly factual and very informative. There are sketches of men and women, whose service to the Kingdom reveals what God can do through lives transformed by his power.

In his portion of the foreword Dr. Manikam says, “These young churches in these old lands of Southeast Asia are minority churches set amidst vast numbers of non-Christians, and they therefore face many problems. But thank God they are there—in every one of these countries—and however small they may be, they are the hope of these countries.… The churches in these ancient lands of Southeast Asia beckon to their partners in North America to come over and help them. May God help many to hear this Macedonian call! This time it comes from Southeast Asia.”

LEWIS H. LANCASTER

Superego Theory

Psychotherapy and Religion, by Henry Guntrip, Harper, 1957. $3.00.

This book by an English clergyman-psychotherapist is more concerned with elaboration and promotion of a theory of neurosis than with finding how Christianity can better collaborate with psychotherapy.

The system presented is an extension of the Melanie Klein variation of Freudian superego theory and was formulated by Fairbairn, a British psychoanalyst. The Freudian concept of instinct is discarded in favor of the viewpoint that all impulses arise from object relationships. The biological context of classical psychoanalysis thus gives way to a social orientation, personal relationships being regarded as paramount. The Freudian ideas of repression and unconscious are retained.

According to this theory, the disturbing figures of childhood are banished by repression deeply into the unconscious, where the ego continues to maintain with them relationships of longing, anger and fear. Anxiety is the product of these repressed bad object relationships. Neurosis is the consequence of the disintegrating, demoralizing influence of this continuing conflict.

Healthy self-realization is achieved, not by the scientific analysis of the individual’s history, but by a therapeutic personal relationship with the therapist. Psychotherapy may not be unscientific, but must be more than merely scientific. Values must be a concern of the therapist, although they lie outside the domain of science. The patient must go beyond the utilitarian goals of symptom relief and economic rehabilitation to face the kind of person he is.

The author struggles with the question of relativity of values, coming to rest in an ambiguous position where values are recognized as essential but are to be judged in terms of mature and successful personality. Man remains the measure.

The closing chapter, with the same title as the book, likewise reflects the author’s ambiguity. His effort to maintain some kind of scientific status as a psychotherapist seems to stand in the way of his offering as a minister any real contribution to improvement of relationships between Christianity and psychotherapy. He affirms “sound and enlightened religious faith” as the best and most hopeful setting for psychotherapy, while wondering in the same paragraph whether religious experience can penetrate into the unconscious depths of personality in the way that psychoanalytic psychotherapy can do.

Guntrip echoes Toynbee’s call back to religion from science and technology, and affirms religious experience and faith as giving “the largest scope for self-realization possible to man.” In the end, however, the attenuated, denatured character of his religious concepts is apparent in the syncretistic platitude that “psychotherapy is evidently a truly religious experience.” ORVILLE S. WALTERS, M. D.

Scholar’s Commentary

The Gospel According to St. John. An Introduction with Commentary and Notes on the Greek Text, by C. K. Barrett, Macmillan, 1957. $4.75.

Interest in the Fourth Gospel continues at a high pitch. Of the several commentaries produced in this field in the last few years, this is the most weighty. It is primarily a scholar’s commentary, approaching everything from the critical standpoint.

About one-fourth of the book is devoted to introduction, and this is the most valuable part of the whole. In the commentary section, the notes are often jottings. One misses an integrating touch. Perhaps one becomes spoiled by the use of Hoskyns, with its insistence on tracing the strains of theological thought, so that comments of the type found in Barrett do not appeal as strongly.

Barrett is skeptical, as are most moderns, about the traditional view of authorship. With Dodd, he sees also a different hand at work in the First Epistle, though many scholars are still prepared to defend the unity of authorship of Gospel and Epistle.

The Introduction deals with the characteristics and purpose of the Gospel, its non-Christian background as well as the Christian, the theology, the origin and authority, and finally, the text. The reader is impressed with the variety and subtilty of John’s allusions to matters which presuppose a knowledge of current Judaism, Greek philosophy, mystery religions and gnostic systems of thought. It is this background material which has challenged recent study even more, perhaps, than such questions as the eschatology of the Gospel or the special interest of the writer in the sacraments.

Barrett is of the opinion that the Fourth Gospel reflects a knowledge of the Marcan materials, but that we cannot go beyond this with confidence.

This learned work may well become the most widely used critical commentary in this field. Its author handles problems with care and is not an extremist in any direction. In this day of the high cost of books, it is gratifying to see this substantial volume offered at such a reasonable figure.

EVERETT F. HARRISON

Bright Story

Horses and Chariots, Popular Report of the British and Foreign Bible Society (London) for 1956.

This is a bright story full of indications of advance. As one turns over the pages and perceives the immense area of the society’s work, it staggers the imagination. The chapter about the Translations Department reveals that there are 47 new languages in which pioneer work is going on and in 32 other languages additional books are being translated. The number of New Testament translations nearing completion for the first time is 36 and those of the whole Bible is 47. Four new languages have now been added to the society’s list, making a total of 836. The publication of the Ndonga Bible, for which a large Christian community among the Ovambos has been eagerly waiting for years past, is now an accomplishment.

The demand for the Bible is as great as ever and every bookseller and colporteur is at the same time an evangelist. “The sower soweth the word” (Mark 4:14); if the servants of God will sow it, God will look after it.

ERNEST F. KEVAN

Salvage Operation

About the Bible, by Frank W. Moyle, Scribner’s, 1957. $3.50.

Earlier in the twentieth century, under the destructive influence of classic liberalism, the Bible was dethroned from the seat of ultimate authority which it had occupied in the life of societies molded by the Reformation, and was replaced with a variety of substitutes, or none at all. This being the climate within the Church, it was only natural that on the outside the reaction should take on a still more decided negative character. Hitherto, with the exception of several isolated periods in post-Reformation history, even the non-Christian public maintained a form of respect (often little more than superstition, to be sure) for the Scriptures. With the birth of the new theology, which while maintaining the critical spirit still finds permanent values of decisive import in the Scriptures, the problem of communication has become severely acute because to the common man the Bible is a closed and forgotten book. In this setting it has become both desirable and necessary to re-educate the public in the Scriptures with what is conceived as the abiding message of revelation. In recent years, therefore, numerous volumes have been published with this purpose in view. The present book is of this type.

Frank Moyle is an active parish priest of the Anglican church with an Oxford background in theological education. He is fully abreast of the current trends in biblical research and scholarship, although in keeping with his purpose his extensive learning is not made obvious by the technicalities and esoteric vocabulary of the scholar. Moyle writes in the style of J. B. Phillips, who incidentally endorses his work enthusiastically. He deliberately limits the scope of his coverage to a selective group of representative biblical documents.

The book is an example of the most radical school of contemporary criticism. Moyle tries desperately to salvage something from the critical wreckage for the man on the street, but hardly achieves his purpose. With respect to the Old Testament he speaks approvingly of the Marcion heresy and regards many of the passages embarrassing. He finds here a number of crude pictures of Deity (within the veil of revealed religion), eg., the God of Sinai is an apparently imaginary storm deity. The origin of man as recorded in Genesis is similar in certain respects to the Greek myth of Athena’s springing from the head of Zeus. He defends Uzziah’s violation of priestly restrictions in the interests of more personal access to God. He brands Ezra a “fanatical priest” on a “merciless mission” to dissolve mixed marriages in defense of an overt nationalism. He interprets the book of Ruth as a contemporary attempt at correcting this evil. He sees human suffering as one of God’s “unsolved problems.” His solution to the difficulty of the book of Jonah is the admission of its allegorical kinship with the tales of Hans Christian Andersen. He freely castigates the Christian Church for its approval of the imprecatory Psalms, failing to understand adequately their real significance in relation to the holiness and justice of God.

The New Testament literature receives equal abuse at this author’s hands. The only essential difference between the canonical Gospels and the pseudo-gospels is the apostolic authenticity (challenged in specific instances, however) of the former, not the historicity of the recorded materials. Matthew’s appeals to Old Testament prophecies are “monotonous reiterations,” both illegitimate and artificial. His accounts of the crucifixion and resurrection are “far-fetched stories.” Jesus’ apocalyptic sayings with reference to his second advent are poetical. St. Paul’s warnings against an expected early return are interpreted as a repudiation of the doctrine of the literal Parousia altogether. The Sermon on the Mount is also the masterpiece of a poet, not the manifesto of a spiritual kingdom. He strips away all the miraculous in the ministry of Jesus, insisting that a Christianity which demands the traditional view is unworthy of rational, intelligent creatures. He opposes Stephen’s Christianity to that of Peter, James, and John, as a more desirable “liberal” version.

Throughout the book Moyle bitterly attacks all literal interpretation of the Scriptures, reducing the historical values of the documents to zero. It is interesting to note that he very purposefully directs his attacks against the positions of the most naive literalists, passing by without recognition the great conservative scholars of past and present alike. Moyle senses no need of any historical, objective redemption. He finds no essential difference between the Sonship of Jesus and that of humanity in general. The former reveals what the latter actually is.

All in all, the book leaves the man on the street right where he has been these many years, providing him with no better understanding of the Word of God than he previously enjoyed. It compels him to push his way through a morass of error, superstition and darkness to a few kernels of truth which are in no wise the revelation of saving grace. One concludes that the attempt, therefore, is not worth the effort. The book demonstrates most clearly the endeavor of the unregenerate, depraved mind of man to inquire into the things revealed and effected by God for eternal redemption, an endeavor unaided by the power of faith and the illumination of the Holy Spirit. This book is not heresy; it is the most outrageous blasphemy.

RICHARD ALLEN BODEY

Struggle In Hungary

History of the Hungarian Reformed Church, by Imre Revesz, Hungarian Reformed Federation of America, Washington, D. C., 1956. Pp. 163, $1.50.

The recent heroic revolt against Soviet oppression in Hungary has focused world attention on that small country. When refugees began streaming across the borders people in this country who supposed that all Hungarians were Roman Catholics like Cardinal Mindszenty were surprised to learn that many of them were Protestants. They were further surprised to learn that the congregations from which they had come in the old country were evangelical and Bible-centered and that the refugees who arrived here felt most at home in similar congregations. The reason for this surprise is American ignorance of central and eastern Europe; its history is not taught in our high schools and only history majors touch it in American higher education.

The Protestant church in Hungary today is one of the most spiritually virile communions in Christendom. One can find no more stirring tales of heroism, great faith, and heart-rending tragedy than those of the church there as it, hemmed in by peoples of other faiths, struggled to maintain its witness. This volume is an account of that history from the Reformation to the present, written by a leading historian of the Hungarian Reformed Church.

The book traces the story of the rapid spread of Protestantism in Hungary early in the Reformation period until virtually the entire population had embraced the new faith; the Turkish conquest and occupation of the greater part of Hungary for a century and a half; the rise and eventual victory of the Counter-Reformation (1608–1715); the period of repression (1715–1789); the period of reform (1789–1848); further struggle against Romanist attempts to destroy the witness of the church in the nineteenth century, and its revitalization in this century. Readers will follow with interest the titanic struggle waged against Rome in this easternmost bastion of evangelicalism; they will learn about an experiment in Unitarianism centuries before the New England defection from the faith; and they will be inspired to read about the recent awakening and witness of the church there. Some will be surprised to know that one out of every five persons in Hungary is a member of the Reformed church, that its leadership early took the part of the landless peasants in the social struggle, and that many thousands of Jewish converts have become evangelized and admitted to the Church since World War II.

The only fault of the book is its brevity. Too much is of necessity left out in order to keep the book within its present limits. It is only an outline of the thrilling story which ought to be told English readers, but it is an outline which is well conceived and well told. We wish for it the wide reading it deserves and express our gratitude to the publishers for a very necessary and readable volume.

M. EUGENE OSTERHAVEN

New Interest

The Puritan Tradition in English Life, by John Marlowe, Cresset, London. 16s.

This is an evaluation of the influence of Puritanism, and is designed to show that the tradition of Victorian middle-class life springs from the theological and religious influences of sixteenth and seventeenth-century English Puritanism.

Of necessity the author devotes a substantial part of his theme to the historical and theological origins of Puritanism. In analyzing the strength and weakness of the Puritans with shrewdness and penetration, he is not always fair, as for example, “Their attitude towards other people was regulated not by love but by a sense of duty.… They paid their debts but did not always forgive their debtors.” It is easy to oversimplify when dealing with the complex situations of Cromwellian England, and the author has not escaped doing so. Beyond any doubt is that Puritan emphasis on theology, on right living and the simple virtues gave English national character a quality lacking in most countries at that time.

Marlowe points out that Puritan influence was renewed through the evangelical revival of the eighteenth century even if its theology was not fully endorsed. It is noteworthy that the evangelicals of the Church of England had more in common with the Puritans than the Methodists who later found their way into dissent.

S. W. MURRAY

As we near the end of the old year we go through the Christmas season toward the New Year with its new tasks and responsibilities. Our thoughts, therefore, quite naturally turn toward a perspective on our life and our work.

We must not lose sight of the connection between Christmas and the New Year. If what is involved in Christmas were simply something romantic, there would be in it no power for a new beginning. But we are reminded that over against the romanticizing of Christmas, we have also the picture of light and darkness, of peace and struggle. We shall have to give thought and attention to these elements of darkness and strife, for the light shines, indeed, in the midst of this darkness. And as we ask ourselves the questions concerning 1957-why has God permitted so many, many things?—then it is good to consider that one can also ask such questions in connection with the Christmas story, as we think of the terrible shadow of the slaughter of the children at Bethlehem.

In all of the history of the church and of theology men’s minds have been occupied again and again with God’s “permitting.” It has been pointed out that the word “permission” is too weak an expression, that God is not simply a witness to world events who simply observes but does not intervene. Calvin calls it foolishness to think of God as “sitting on the observation post, awaiting the fortuitous course of events, so that his judgments depend on the approval of men.” It is exactly the gripping application of all of history, that God rules.

When God permits frightening things, his dealings are at the same time full of activity in the unsearchableness of his ways. His mighty dealings cut directly across the sin-filled horrors of events.

The cross of Christ was not a passive “permission” of God, but a Godly atoning act. When Herod and Pilate and Israel lay violent hands upon Christ, then we read concerning this: “For to do whatsoever thy hand and thy counsel determined before to be done” (Acts 4:28).

The providence of God is least of all satisfactorily described by the term permission. The question is certainly to be understood, as arises so often in the heart, why does God permit so much; why does he not make an end to it, now that there is so much evil on the earth? This is a question that especially in our time once again troubles many hearts and minds. Augustine was concerned with it and we can go back still farther to the Old Testament and the cry of “Why?” resounds out of many troubles and oppressions. But at the same time the Old Testament declares that God has not surrendered the reins out of his hand, but that he “bringeth the counsel of the heathen to nought: he maketh the devices of the people to none effect” (Psalm 33:10).

Especially at Christmas time are we reminded of this. Directly across and through the shadows (Herod!) we see that there is also a boundary to God’s permissiveness. This limit is clearly depicted in the Christmas story. It lies in the preservation of the Christ. Over against the activity of Herod in its deepest darkness, we see the flight to Egypt as the boundary of the evil acts of men. It is not so, also not then, that evil has the upper hand, unlimited as an independent opposition power against God. In the middle of all the unveiling of evil we see, in faith, the dealing of God, which does not always interfere at the moment, as we would sometimes desire to have it, but which establishes boundaries, now here, then there, and which preserves Christ for the world and which will bring forth the coming of his Kingdom.

God asks of us, therefore, a boundless trust. He is not to be counted out in the events of the first Christmas. Looking back we can see the thread of events, but as we stand before them we do not always understands that the protector of Israel neither slumbers nor sleeps (Psalm 121). But there will come a time when, anew and in totality, the sense and purpose of the dealings of God will be made plain.

There is a great struggle going on for the hearts of men. We are sometimes awed by the enormous proportion of the things and events that frighten and amaze us. There are people who do not seem to be able to hold out any longer and who cry in despair, Where is God? They no longer see the boundary of God’s permissive will; they are no longer conscious of God’s overruling might. They begin to believe in the overpowering might of evil.

It is exactly because of this that it is so appropriate that we go alongside the crib of Bethlehem to the end of the year and soon to the new task of the New Year. Round about the manger there are involved the final and deepest decisions, as Mary saw in her thrilling vision: “He hath shewed strength with his arm; he hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. He hath put down the mighty from their seats, and exalted them of low degree. He hath filled the hungry with good things; and the rich he hath sent empty away” (Luke 1:51–53).

Out of the lowly humiliation of the manger, all things and all human concerns and relationships are placed in an entirely new light. It is a moving scene indeed that Mary here witnesses.

As we pass alongside the manger toward the threshold of the New Year, we shall remember that in the eyes of God things look quite different than we often imagine. He proves all things and judges their worth in the light of his Kingdom. He does this out of the secrecy of the “great mystery.”

We shall then not celebrate Christmas in simply a romantic tradition. The feast does indeed have its impact upon the emotions (and not alone on the understanding), but with a little romanticism over “the light” we shall not get very far in this hard world.

In this real world there is only one perspective: the gospel, the message of salvation, that is also now made known to us. And in all our asking “Why?” there comes to us through the darkness a voice which encourages and spurs us to our work and to our task. For there is always a boundary, a limit, to the permissiveness of God.

To this faith we are called as a faith full of perspective. And this faith is at the same time the assurance that the irrefutable witness has come to us that the proud shall be scattered and that God will comfort the lowly.

It is this humility that is the test for all of life, also in the coming year. Our own lives, too, will be tested by it.

This review is prepared successively for CHRISTIANITY TODAY by four evangelical scholars: Professor W. Stanford Reid of Canada, Professor G. C. Berkouwer of the Netherlands, Professor John H. Gerstner of the United States and Dr. Philip E. Hughes of England.