Men No Longer Lend Their Ears

One early problem of communication in the American pulpit was the immigrant preacher who spoke some version of Yankee-Dutch to an audience who knew the English language better than he. This problem is largely a thing of the past. But a new problem of pulpit communication has taken its place. Men of the pulpit are now forced to compete with those highly refined and effective forms of modern communication which today are commonplace.

David Susskind’s program “Open End” was dropped from a television station recently when he described the station’s evening programming as a “heap of garbage.” While some people at times might be tempted to use such overly strong language, no one is complaining that television is short on technological expertness. No cost is spared and every technical resource is employed to catch the eye and ear and mind of viewers. From a technical point of view television is great. This is so true that many people find the disparity between technical excellence and the ofttime inconsequential content painful; others are annoyed with themselves because they watch against their wills and better judgment, and sometimes even enjoy the commercials because they are so skillfully done. And here lies the problem of communication for the modern pulpit. Today’s preacher of sermons must compete with the expert technical quality of television, movies, radio, newspapers. The man of the pew is conditioned—no doubt largely unconsciously, but nonetheless powerfully—by this constant exposure to the best in modern communications. He finds it increasingly difficult to be interested in the average sermon. How rarely he listens to the preacher in spite of himself; on the contrary, and this is especially true of teen-agers, listening becomes an effort, something he must work at.

One may indeed sympathize with the preacher as he competes with television, movies, and radio. His hearers are all week long bombarded with messages. They no longer lend their ears—they protect them! Unlike the modern communications expert, the preacher is not a member of a team. He works alone. He must write his sermons without a staff of script writers and editors. If he is an average minister, he has had no special training in the highly competitive field of communications. Left to his own resources, crowded for time, he faces the task of delivering his one, perhaps two, sermons on Sunday to a congregation which throughout the week is subjected to the most highly developed and persuasive means of communication the world has ever known. How indeed can a busy pastor successfully compete for the attention of people who are exposed to a world of communications which will spend hundreds of man-hours and thousands of dollars to get a just-right picture of a breakfast cereal falling from a box into a dish?

For all their polite restraint, telling criticisms are heard in this issue about what is going on in the pulpit of today. Thankfully they come from preachers themselves. One writer urges that many laymen cripple pulpit performance by inordinate demands upon the minister’s time. Another goes so far as to offer to return to the pulpit if he ever finds a congregation that will give him ample time for sermon preparation. Still another urges that much of the pulpit’s communication potential is lost because of hasty, shoddy sermon preparation—a quite devastating criticism since preaching is nothing if not communication.

Yet even the busiest preacher need not despair if he cannot compete technically with MGM and NBC. The Word of God is not bound—not even by our faltering, not-always-expert presentations. Moreover, that which he conveys is news, the best news the world ever heard, news about the origin, life, death, and future of men, news about Jesus Christ and God’s love for us. And even NBC does not spend large amounts of either time or money to broadcast its most exciting news. A hasty newsflash does it. Let the men of the pulpit do their best and very uttermost to communicate the Gospel—and then rest in peace.

END

The Ambiguity Of Theology In Tillich’S Version

On his way to Time magazine’s recent fortieth anniversary party (honoring 284 distinguished past cover-story guests), Paul Tillich, the main speaker, remarked that CHRISTIANITY TODAY “is not very friendly toward me.” We consider Tillich an intriguing personality. We are unenthusiastic about his religious philosophy, however, and expect that its influence will soon pale. The reason should be apparent even from Dr. Tillich’s address to the Time celebrities on “The Ambiguity of Perfection.” There was no reference whatever to Jesus Christ, the sinless Redeemer, no word about the Incarnation and Atonement and Resurrection. Professor Tillich’s brand of religion finds reference to Jesus of Nazareth unnecessary and in turn disregards Christ’s church as the one divinely created and commissioned task force for man’s ultimate rescue (“churches … are not the … exclusive vehicle of the mystery of being”). Thought-provoking and of value is Tillich’s emphasis on the ambiguity of man’s achievements. But surely only judgment awaits his and any theology whose main ambiguity centers about Jesus of Nazareth.

END

Two Different Worlds Americans Live In

Two items have come to our desk—one focusing on Los Angeles, the other on Hollywood—and their concerns are worlds apart.

Los Angeles: The Billy Graham Southern California Crusade will open in Memorial Coliseum Thursday, August 15. Counselor-training classes began this month with an enrollment of almost 30,000—by most evangelistic standards an exceedingly good crowd in itself. Approximately 5,000 persons attended a series of choir rehearsals. There seems to be a widening impression that if a major revival is once again to sweep the United States with more than regional effect, it will come out of the West. There is a growing prayer burden that this crusade may be it.

Hollywood: Darryl F. Zanuck, president of Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corporation, has disclosed that besides her $1.7 million salary for Cleopatra, Elizabeth Taylor is to get 10 per cent of the film’s gross rentals after Fox gets the first $7.5 million. Should the picture gross $60 million (without which it won’t break even), Miss Taylor’s 10 per cent share would be $5,250,000, news which made some Fox shareholders quite unhappy.

The sums involved in Hollywood spectaculars are truly staggering. Queries persist whether the industry’s sickness is one unto death. Europeans marvel that Americans can spend so much money to produce a generally mediocre product. And Christians, seeing in films a powerful medium for the Gospel, devoutly wish they had greater financial means to pursue the project.

Should we take comfort in the fact that Americans gave approximately 100 times Miss Taylor’s prospective Cleopatra income for Protestant missions in 1961? But it is cold comfort indeed, particularly when we remind ourselves that Miss Taylor’s income rises phoenix-like from the wreckage of a ruined home.

America, this face is not a comely one. The Egyptian look does not reflect your highest aspirations. But it is a reminder that for you, for us, the choice is an ancient one: Christ or Egypt. In the face of Jesus Christ we see the glory of God. We may hope that it is toward this face Los Angeles will turn, and Hollywood too. For hope’s fruition, it is time we all begin praying for the Graham meetings in Memorial Coliseum. There is to be a battle there for the souls and bodies of men, and it has already begun.

END

Reconciling Church Polities While Facing Realities Of Power

A closing statement of the recent Oberlin meeting of the Consultation on Church Union (“Blake-Pike proposal”) maintained that the group had reached “an important consensus on the crucial question of authority in the church.” The reference was to an adopted statement on Scripture and tradition. The consultation is now ready “to grapple with the sharp issues that in our history have been causes of division and walls of separation between us”:

1. The place and authority of the ordained ministry including the historic episcopate in a united church and its relationship to Word and Sacrament and its measure of responsibility for keeping the church true to the apostolic witness to Jesus Christ as set forth in the Bible and for leading the church in effective and renewed relevance to the true needs of men and nations.

2. The place in the living tradition of the church of creeds, liturgical practices, and confessions of faith in relation to Holy Scripture, which we have agreed has central and unique authority under Jesus Christ, the Head of the Church.

3. The doctrine of the Sacraments.

To undertake such a tremendous task as here envisaged is almost to demand a monument for courage. We say “almost,” for this is no longer a day when churchmen expect theology to be taken seriously and theological differences therefore no longer loom as large as they once did. This situation is reflected by the University of Chicago’s Markus Barth in his criticism of the proposed union, which appears in McGraw-Hill’s new symposium, The Challenge to Reunion (edited by Robert McAfee Brown and David H. Scott):

The basis of the proposed union appears to be a property and trade agreement to be made for the benefit of visitors, stockholders, and a wider public, rather than a confession of faith, of repentance, and praise. The age-old conflict over historic episcopacy and presbytero-synodical church government is to be solved by swapping bishops against ruling elders, and by retaining both.…

It is clear that a church union is more than an administrative problem only. In both the Anglican-Episcopal and the Reformed traditions it is stolidly upheld that matters of church order and discipline are as spiritual as problems of right doctrine and true preaching. If they are spiritual, they need be informed by the contents of the Gospel and by obedience to it.… If a future church union were to be built upon the elements of this proposal (or of even shrewder arrangement of compromise and exchange), it might bear impressive testimony to the good will of honest and competent men. But any union that is not born out of a new hearing and a better understanding of the word of God will certainly fail to give glory to God.

United Presbyterian minister A. Culver Gordon of Paterson, New Jersey, has commented on the proposed union: “In history, we should note that the Presbyterian church in Scotland fought a long battle to preserve the parity of the clergy and to resist the placing of bishops over them. Are we willing to give away what they are willing to die for?” Some hark back to Calvinist-Arminian differences, among others, which are historically resident in the consulting churches.

On the other hand, in Oberlin the consultation voted to receive a report dealing with a sociological “Analysis of the Participating Communions,” which, delegates declared, “in its analysis of function” points to the possibility of combining in a united church episcopal, presbyterial, and congregational polities. Episcopalians were not too happy with this, even though they had succeeded in removing the term “historic episcopate” from the statement, for they did not believe the report pointed to the possibility of combining this with the other polities.

The report, written by Professor Paul M. Harrison of Princeton University’s religion department, was startlingly frank in distinguishing between legitimated authority and actual power in church government. On “religious establishments” it set forth the following hypotheses:

Given the disparate nature of authority and power in the participating communions it can be reasonably hypothesized that one of the most effective instruments for sustaining the denominations and formulating denominational polity is also one of the most difficult to define. In secular political literature it has been called “the establishment.” Rovere, in his perceptive and amusing article on the American Establishment, points out that experts disagree on what the Establishment is and how it works, but he further observes that the experts also disagree on the nature and operation of the Kingdom of God without denying its existence.

The Establishment appears to be a functional necessity in each of the denominations. The first order of business of every informal Establishment meeting is to deny the existence of the Establishment. The leaders of the Establishment maintain that real denominational power rests with the people, the local congregations, the regional officers, the national executives, the General Assembly, the General Council, or the Presiding Bishop.

The Establishment consists of businessmen and bishops, professional priests and professional laymen, ecclesiastical executives, and theologians of every persuasion, although the Fundamentalists will be sparsely represented. It consists largely of people from the Northeast. These are supported by a handful of affluent folks from the midwestern states, two or three big men from Dallas, and a generous helping from the Pacific Coast élite.

The Establishment, a very modest group in size, will hold the balance of power on most crucial issues irrespective of who holds the formal seat of authority. The group consists of an alliance of near-conservatives and almost-radicals who are cooperating in their common search for a non-irritating approach to controversial issues.

It is not exceedingly difficult to identify at least the principal members of the Establishment within a denomination. Any person who possesses an intimate knowledge of denominational politics can name at least a few members of the Establishment’s Executive Committee.

One effective way of determining who are some of the members of a denominational Establishment is to examine the lists of the American Ecumenical Establishment. A good start at discovering who these people are can be gained by culling the board members of the National Council of Churches.

The Establishment can marshall considerable positive support behind a policy which they favor, but they can generate even greater power to curtail what they describe as “idiotic non-Establishment deviations.” When the Establishment is divided by geographical, professional, or institutional interests, “idiocy” can and sometimes has prevailed. This was the case with the Fundamentalist Controversy which swept some of the denominations but was eventually bridled by Establishment powers.…

The Establishment does not work effectively at the state and local level. A seminary dean and his bishop, both of whom may be Charter Members of the Establishment, can lock in mortal combat at the diocesan level and at the same time be most congenial brothers on national issues.…

As in secular American politics there is an unwritten rule that the national powers do not violate the autonomy of diocesan or presbyterial affairs. This situation is gradually changing as denominational authority is increasingly centralized. Conversely, the local, non-Establishment bishop may exercise unquestioned authority in his diocese, but may be superceded at the national level by one of his laymen who is an Establishment Man.

Little wonder if the average churchman, when confronted with the face of political power in the church, questions the necessity for long, drawn-out wrangling over reconciliation of details of church polity.

END

Vaccination

The use of vaccine to prevent the development of smallpox in individuals was one of the great achievements in the long history of preventive medicine. With the passing of the years more and more vaccines and antigens have become available, not, as a rule, to cure, but to enable the human body to develop antibodies or other resistant factors against a host of diseases.

The use of “religion” to vaccinate individuals against Christianity is one of the tragedies of the modern age.

As far as the Christian faith is concerned, there can be no substitute for Christ crucified, dead, buried, and risen again. Anything which comes between this basic truth and men can be regarded as an enemy of Christianity itself.

Today the vaccines and antitoxins which prevent a true Christian experience are legion. Homeopathic doses of “religion” are a deadly enemy to a vital experience of and relationship to Jesus Christ, the Son of God and our Redeemer. This confusing of generalities for the Specific of Christ can render young people—indeed all of us—immune to a vital experience with Him as Saviour and Lord.

The Apostle Paul speaks of a time when men will have a form of godliness but deny the power thereof, or, as Phillips translates this: “They will have a facade of ‘religion,’ but their conduct will deny its validity” (2 Tim. 3:5).

Are we in this number? Are we permitting our children to be vaccinated against a true Christian faith? A study of much of the material offered young people in their youth programs suggests that this very thing is happening.

The variations of human means of immunization against God’s love and mercy are many. Many of these vaccines have so much in common that their individual characteristics are lost beneath their central ability: to keep man from capitulation to the Son of God.

There is always the danger of being inoculated with humanism, so that we look at the world in terms of physical and material need, forgetting that man does not live by bread alone.

One can be vaccinated through ritual, so that worship is lost in form, the spiritual rejected for the sensuous.

One of the most effective vaccines against Christianity is substituting “doing” for “done,” striving for that which Christ has achieved for us, being concerned with works rather than grace.

There is also the vaccine of “morality,” which leads to the substitution of man’s righteousness for the righteousness of God in Christ Jesus. This makes the one vaccinated proud of his own filthy rags of good deeds when he desperately needs the robe of Christ’s righteousness, imputed by faith.

One of the more common vaccines is labeled “activity,” the preoccupation of being busy to escape being still before the Lord.

One phase of this vaccine is the substitution of programs for a personal walk with the Lord. Its reaction is also expressed in the attempt to do God’s work with the arm of flesh.

Another vaccine is the substitution of human wisdom for divine revelation. This inevitably makes the one inoculated more interested in what man says than in what God has said, causing him to give priority to the opinions of the “wise men” of our day rather than to truths expressed by the holy men of old who spoke as they were moved by the Spirit.

In this same category is the inoculation of individuals with books about the Bible while the Holy Scriptures are themselves neglected.

These and many other vaccines—and new ones are appearing all the time—have one ultimate effect. They come between man and his God, between man and a vital, personal relationship with the living Christ.

The writer is deeply concerned about the impact of these immunizations on our young people. We find so many of them eager but confused, anxious but not satisfied, amazingly informed about science and space and woefully ignorant about the Creator of all.

That this vaccination against a vital Christian experience occurs only too often in the Church itself is the supreme tragedy. We have before us an official publication of a major denomination, one for the college-age group. From beginning to end it is existentialists in its concept—its art, poetry, dialogue, and impact. In one fragment of dramatic presentation a biblical scene is depicted by characters whose language is profane and degraded. This erudite magazine was put aside with the feeling that “they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him.”

The vaccine of relativity is constantly used to inoculate against God’s absolutes. The statement that “there are no absolutes” is obviously absurd, for the one who utters it is himself voicing an absolute. But consistency is not a shining virtue, and one inoculated with the doctrine that the divine attributes, as well as the way to God, may be discarded in favor of new “concepts” of truth, is rarely receptive to the Gospel.

Just as infants have a natural immunity against most diseases for a few months, so all mankind seems to have an ever-present tendency to project itself above God. True, “man is incurably religious,” but only too often this is centered in self, in man and his imagination—and the creature of that imagination is his god.

To overcome both natural and acquired immunities there is needed a confrontation with self in the light of a confrontation with Jesus Christ. When we see ourselves as we are, and the Son of God as he is, our own need is exposed. When we sense something of what God has done to supply that need, we are in a position to make the greatest transition possible in life—the transition from death to life, from darkness to light, from time to eternity.

That unregenerate man should resent and resist God’s proffered love is not amazing. There is needed a work of the Holy Spirit which can completely change the situation.

On the other hand, that man should be inoculated with the virus of religiosity which, in the name of “religion,” makes him resistant to Christ and his claims is a major tragedy.

That this condition is not hopeless is due to the love and mercy of God and the work of the Holy Spirit. But as far as Christians and the Church are concerned, we must at all times be alert to those emphases which at any point attempt to bypass the Cross and all that is implied in that event at the center of all history.

We must have cisterns of living water, not broken reservoirs. We must have Christ presented in terms of divine intervention where man is himself helpless. We must have truth illuminated by the Holy Spirit, not dimmed by the rationalization of man.

Eutychus and His Kin: June 7, 1963

Love That Soap

Thomas Babington Macaulay is responsible for these famous words: “The Puritan hated bear-baiting, not because it gave pain to the bear, but because it gave pleasure to the spectators.”

Spiritual things are spiritually discerned, and perhaps it takes a Puritan to know one; in any case, it takes a special kind of sympathy to appreciate the Puritan. Perry of Harvard has a wonderful book called Puritanism and Democracy which everyone should read before starting any outcries against “legalism” and “moralism” and “Pharisaism.” The Puritans built iron into the American way of life, and in so doing they were not exactly “reeds shaken by the wind.” Perry appreciates the ordered thrill the Puritan had when he “did the right thing.” His exercise in personal discipline gave him something of the same pleasure a man gets when he knocks a few seconds off the two-mile run.

The best thing to do with Macaulay’s word is to accept it and then glory in it. “The Puritan hated bear-baiting because it gave pleasure to the spectators.” Exactly. If he had any love for humanity at all and any sensitivity in spiritual things, he would find intolerable the disintegration that takes place in people when they enjoy cruelty. The Puritan had something that needs to be hammered back into our beloved American Way. Must we not condemn again the things that give the wrong kinds of pleasure for the wrong kinds of reasons? The Madison Avenue boys even want us to love soap and hair sprays.

The Holy Spirit of God is called the Spirit of Truth, and we are urged above measure to abide in the Truth. This is just not a live option among many interesting possibilities; the Puritans were right. There are things both false and cruel which we ought to learn to hate just because they do give some people pleasure.

EUTYCHUS II

The Holy Scriptures

You have done the cause of evangelical Christianity in our generation an invaluable service in reviewing and replying to Dewey Beegle’s book, “The Inspiration of Scripture” (April 26 issue). Many will attack you for it, but other thousands of us are deeply grateful to you for your fearless and scholarly stand for the integrity of God’s Word written.

California Lutheran Bible School

Los Angeles, Calif.

Congratulations on the way you handled Beegle’s position that the Bible is fallible. Frank but fair, your review and analysis of this old attack on the high view of the Bible’s inspiration was a first-rate job. Everyone who considers this issue should carefully study what you and others of like persuasion have written before jumping on the theological train whose destination is skepticism.

Church of Christ

Sikeston, Mo.

Why all the fuss about verbal inspiration? I’ve never met an ecumenist or liberal who didn’t believe in the verbal inspiration of “that they all may be one” (John 15:21).

First Presbyterian Church

Orange, N.J.

Overstating the quality of inspiration is a common evangelical failure, and understating it is a common liberal failure. The Scripture does not teach the absolute inerrancy of the autographs, nor mere sufficiency of errant extant Scriptures, but it does teach the practical religious inerrancy of extant Scriptures.

First Baptist Church

London, Ky.

That is the great issue that faces the churches today as it has faced the Christian church ever since the time of crass rationalism. Whatever CHRISTIANITY TODAY can do to make ministers and laymen see the Bible as God’s inspired, divine Word and so as the only source and norm of faith and life will make it a blessing for the present and the future.

Concordia Seminary

St. Louis, Mo.

I pray that CHRISTIANITY TODAY will continue to provide such painstaking articles in this day of theological drowsiness.

Editor

Moody Student

Chicago, Ill.

Since Dr. Beegle holds elder’s orders in this denomination it is with some distress that we learn of his repudiation of scriptural inerrancy, especially in view of his scholarly reputation.… This defection is most deplorable and should be lamented by all evangelical scholars as a tragedy rather than acclaimed and sensationalized.

First Free Methodist Church

Lockport, N.Y.

Upon reading your review … it occurs to me that Dr. Beegle is writing for the wrong cause. Since he advocates a wholesale removal of books from our Protestant Bible, he reminds me of an Orthodox Jew. Since he wishes us to add apocryphal books and “traditional” hymns, he reminds me of a Roman Catholic.

Lansdale, Pa.

My appreciation to you for your article reviewing Dewey Beegle’s book. For a young evangelical facing a Ph.D. program … and wrestling with the problems of inspiration, that was a fine help.

First Baptist Church

Thornbury, Ont.

Salvation is through faith in Jesus Christ, and is not dependent upon an impossible conception of the inspiration of the Scriptures. The Bible is God’s word to me, but it simply is not all verbally inspired by God. It has its human aspects and that means imperfection in spots.

St. Paul’s Evangelical and Reformed

Evansville, Ind.

Why all the fuss over biblical inspiration?… Let’s have less “rhetorical profuseness” over an issue that should have been dead and buried long ago. You might even give us a few more “Beegle samplers”!

Chaplain

The School of the Ozarks

Point Lookout, Mo.

The four-pronged attack upon Beegle’s loose stand will be quite helpful to crystallize some issues for evangelical thinking.

Gordon Divinity School

Beverly Farms, Mass.

What we see today are only seeds sown. It is in the next generation that the full fruit of this position becomes obvious. Then it is too late to do anything about it.

Gen. Sec.

International Fellowship of Evangelical Students

Lausanne, Switzerland

The doctrine of biblical inerrancy is dead—when will you take the corpse and bury it and face honestly what you must face? Rather than spend your time in clever rationalization to prove what cannot be proven, face the problem which has to be faced—the authority of Scripture in the light of an errant text.

Christ United Presbyterian Church

Mars, Pa.

I understand your concern for the Gospel, and for the souls of men, but one must live with his documents.

Danville, Ill.

Your major feature on Beegle’s treatise deserves to be added to your reprint list. A splendid critique. It certainly merits further circulation and digestion.

Miner Congregational Church

Wilkes-Barre, Pa.

The Warmed Heart

As a former student of the late Dr. George Croft Cell and with the signature of Bishop Francis John McConnell on my Certificate of Ordination into the Ministry of The Methodist Church I cannot but express my warm appreciation of the April 26 issue of CHRISTIANITY TODAY. Norman V. Hope and A. Skevington Wood will make the hearts of your Methodist readers—and of many others as well, I hope—“strangely warmed” through the reading of their excellent articles regarding Aldersgate.

In another magazine which has carried a series on the subject of how certain minds have been changed, presumably for the better, in their religious pilgrimage, I noted how one such “pilgrim” paid a special tribute to his discovery of remarkable insights in the sermons of John Wesley, particularly their relevance to the problems of our modern age. Perhaps we Methodists ought to be equally interested in our religious heritage and to seek afresh the secret of the “warmed heart.”

Municipal University of Omaha

Omaha, Neb.

Your last [issue] is wonderful.

Oakland, Calif.

Church And State

The two articles and the editorial which discuss church-state issues (Apr. 26 issue) are incisive in dealing with the departure from “historic interpretation” and the acceptance of “a new interpretation which is still somewhat fluid”.…

J. Marcellus Kik is pointed, and I believe correct, in observing that the “thrust in the report’s introduction and appendices is even more revealing than the startling recommendations.” It is in these portions that the influence of the sociologist, the humanist, and the modern historian-redactor is evident.

Much of Christendom will be gravely concerned with the action taken by the 175th General Assembly, not the least of which is the Session of this church which studied the report and, with minor exceptions, rejected its findings!

GRENVILLE A. DAUN

First Presbyterian Church

Dupont, Wash.

I was specifically disappointed in reading the hyper-criticisms of the United Presbyterian Church and State Report. I say hyper-critical because no one looked for the good aspects in the report but only for what could be disliked.… Though few people see the necessity or the advantage of all the recommendations, many of the recommendations for reform are long overdue such as special privileges to the clergy and theological students and churches paying their share of taxes.

Sterling, Kan.

I was deeply disappointed.… All of these articles made the basic error of assuming that the nation whose government officially recognizes the sovereignty of God and promotes a religious atmosphere is “more Christian,” or at least “better” and more likely to escape the wrath of God, than the nation whose government divorces itself entirely from religion and concerns itself only with secular matters.…

From the viewpoint of the Christian a “religion in general” is … no better than no religion at all. Man is not saved just by subscribing to the sovereignty of God and practicing a “religion in general,” but only by accepting the doctrines of Christ.

Nor dare we suppose that by cultivating an atmosphere of “religion in general,” the government can at least be helpful to the cause of the Christian church. On the contrary, that will only be a hindrance. A “religion in general” is never friendly, but always hostile to the Christian faith.…

The sooner the government divorces itself entirely from religion and concerns itself only with secular matters, the better it will be. Then the Christians of our land will realize what they should have realized long ago: that they cannot and must not expect the government to support and promote the cause of Christ, but that it is entirely up to them to spread the Gospel whereby alone man can be saved. The Gospel will remain pure and retain its saving power only if it is proclaimed in its purity by those who have accepted it in faith. Herein lies the only hope for our nation and for the world.

Zion Evangelical Lutheran Church

East Cleveland, Ohio

Your issue has raised the warning flag. If the attempts to remove the Bible’s influence from every area of society but the Church and the attempts to undermine its authority within the Church are successful, we will slip back into the dark ages overnight. Seems I hear a trumpet sounding a call to prayer and revival before it is too late!

Oxford Baptist

Woodstock, Ont.

Your analysis of the Smith report was masterly.… Your magazine is an encouragement to the whole body of evangelicals.

United Presbyterian Church

Paterson, N.J.

I was glad for L. Nelson Bell’s article “A Secular State” for this reason. This is the direction that apostasy must go if the prophecies concerning the anti-Christ are to be fulfilled. It is in this submission and bowing down of the spiritual to the political that the anti-Christ, the political head, will rise. For if the Scriptures teach us anything, they teach us that he will be a political head, as opposed to a spiritual Head.

Again the Scriptures teach us that religion will be the handmaid, nay, even more, the prostitute of this political head.

The Dragerton Community Church

Dragerton, Utah

The Protevangelium

In regard to the review of The Torah, the Five Books of Moses by Jacob Jocz (Apr. 12 issue), the impression left concerning the work of the translator, Dr. Harry Orlinsky, is unfortunate in at least one instance. The problem of translating Genesis 3:15 is complex and can be met grammatically in at least two ways. The possibility chosen by Dr. Orlinsky, to translate zerah by “offspring” and the relative pronoun hu’ with “they,” can certainly be defended. The Hebrew noun zerah is a collective, singular in form, but either singular or plural in meaning. The translation “offspring” continues this grammatical ambiguity. Since the noun zerah is singular in form its relative also must be singular in form, hence hu’.

Whether this is the correct understanding theologically is irrelevant to the grammar of the problem (although I personally believe this passage is indeed, as traditional interpretation by the Christian church asserts, the protevangelium). The scholarship of Dr. Orlinsky should not be impugned for making a possible true translation. As a matter of fact, this is by no means as novel as Dr. Jocz seems to imply, however. It was known to Raschi, the medieval Jewish commentator, and was incorporated into the Soncino edition of the Parashoth and Haphtaroth of 1938, and is also the translation of Theophile J. Meek in The Bible, An American Translation, copyright 1931 by the University of Chicago.

I do not believe that CHRISTIANITY TODAY should leave the impression that the new Jewish Publication Society’s work is of slight or no value to Christian scholars. It is in this spirit that I write. The translation is well worth study even though one may not agree with all renderings. But then, that would be true if any group set out to make an absolutely authoritative translation for its own purposes.

Registrar

Luther Theological Seminary

Saskatoon, Saskatchewan

To Reclaim And Retain

As almost a lifelong Southern Baptist (now Independent Baptist, affiliated with IFCA), I was very interested in the evaluation of present conditions in the Convention (News, Apr. 26 issue). In general it was quite accurate except in the tendency to minimize earlier influences of liberalism in the Convention. Also, Southern Baptists hardly “give financially in fantastic ways”; their per capita giving is lower than most denominations, despite an abnormal amount of emphasis on “stewardship” and the “cooperative program.” But I certainly share your concern that the Convention as a whole may even yet be reclaimed and retained for Christ-centered and Bible-centered Christianity.

Blacksburg, Va.

Catholicity

I just read the letter from Edwin S. Gault, conference secretary of the New York East Conference of The Methodist Church (Eutychus, Mar. 29 issue), and I want to apologize in the name of myself and many of my fellow Methodist ministers, for this man who breathes so little of the catholic spirit of John Wesley. I find in your magazine much that helps me as a minister and student, and for this I gratefully say, Thy heart being as my heart, give me thy hand.

Grace Methodist Church

West Palm Beach, Fla.

I greatly admire the catholic outreach of this evangelical paper, and its generally unbiased approach to all the many problems that beset the Christian church today.

The Rectory, Little Berkhamsted

Hertford, Herts, England

To The Gills, He’S Full

I am full to the gills of CT’s seeing a Communist under every bush, equating socialism and Communism, criticizing pacifism and social reform as exclusively the realm of the kingdom-of-God-on-earth liberal.… Are there not others like myself—conservative in religion, liberal in politics, pacifist in military persuasion, and active in attempts at social reform?…

Central Methodist College Biology Dept.

Fayette, Mo.

Down With The Moderator!

Mr. Hughes’s “moderate episcopacy” (Current Religious Thought, Apr. 26 issue) makes as much sense to me as a “moderate creed,” “moderate sacraments,” and a “moderate Bible.”

Saint Barnabas Church

Omaha, Neb.

A Farewell To Life

One of your readers calls attention to the fact that some of the works of Langston Hughes are recommended in a publication of the National Council of Churches (Eutychus, Apr. 12 issue). Lest we forget who Mr. Hughes is—he’s the fellow who, as a member of the Revolutionary Writers Federation (a Moscow-based authors’ group) wrote a poem titled “Goodbye, Christ,” in which these lines occur:

Goodbye,

Christ Jesus Lord God Jehova,

Beat it on away from here now.

Make way for a new guy with no religion at all—

A real guy named

Marx Communist Lenin Peasant Stalin Worker ME—

I said, ME!…

And step on the gas, Christ!

Move!

Friends of Mr. Hughes have sought to explain that he was merely “quoting” a hypothetical Communist—an apologia which seems hardly tenable in view of Hughes’s long list of Red-front affiliations.

Sea Cliff, N.Y.

Reminder Of Siberia

Re “Moscow: Peasants Bid for Religious Freedom” (News, Jan. 18 issue):

Our efforts, it seems to me, are having very little tangible effect and I am at a loss as to what further to do.… We can not give up on the project; yet if every living Christian does not realize this problem as being a personal responsibility of his, our voice will be lost in the wind, and our friends in Siberia, undoubtedly praying night and day to God for help, will soon lose faith that there are any Christians in the world but themselves in their desolation.

Chairman

Russian Refugee Committee

Hollywood, Calif.

Opposed To Double Costs

In “Federal Aid and Control Are Like Love and Marriage” (Editorial, Mar. 15 issue) you state: “Most Protestants gladly pay for whatever sectarian education their children get, and do not expect to assess the general taxpayer for this private rather than public education. If public funds are used to subsidize sectarian schools, the program will discriminate against public education and penalize the citizenry in general.”

I am one of thousands of parents sending children to schools which I suppose you would call sectarian: they are Protestant, parent-controlled schools, operating independently of church organization. Already now we are compelled by the state to meet all the standards set for public schools. It is true that in this area federal control might supersede state control, but right now we are far from independent as far as control of educational standards, and so forth, is concerned. What is more, the Catholic and Protestant schools in the Netherlands have flourished under federal control and support for many years now. You are on the one hand ignoring the control already exercised by the state over private schools and, on the other hand, seeing dangers which could materialize from many other directions as well.

Further: my taxes are used to pay for the education of many public school children. Grand and beautiful buildings with all kinds of frills go up on every hand while we who pay the way for our children as well as that of the public school children scratch to meet these double costs. I know of numerous parents who have denied themselves for years such basic necessities as decent transportation or even indoor plumbing—yes, even going into debt which it will take years to repay—because they are convinced that it is their Christian duty to stop ignoring God in the day by day education of their children.… If my school must meet state standards, why is it not entitled to just as much money per pupil as the public school?… The Catholic has had enough perception to recognize the need of having all his education oriented to his faith.… Just how would it “discriminate against public education” if public school parents were obliged to carry the whole cost of their children’s education? We Christian school parents are not asking for anything extra; we are simply asking that we be given our fair share.…

Christian Reformed Church

New Era, Mich.

Grizzled Edwin Collier

In your March 15 issue, I read, “Court Weighs Religious Exercises”: “… balding Leonard J. Kerpelman … greying Francis B. Burch … tall attorney … white-haired Thomas B. Finan … red-haired Henry W. Sawyer … youthful-looking Deputy Attorney General.…”

Would you kindly inform me and your other readers of the precise significance of these tonsorial and anatomical details? Could they be a subtle form of the argumentum ad hominem or were you having a nightmare in which you dreamed you were The New Yorker?

Yours stockily-built, grizzled, bespectacled, and sincerely,

East Falls, Pa.

• Our scribes over-succeeded in letting CHRISTIANITY TODAY’S readers know they were getting a colorful, first-hand report.—ED.

G. Campbell Morgan: The Prince of Expositors

One of the religious institutions of my early days in South Wales was the anniversary celebration of the church or the minister. Usually it was held on the weekly half-holiday—Wednesday or Thursday—with a preaching service in the afternoon, followed by a fellowship tea, and then by a public meeting. The preacher was usually someone of national, or even wider, reputation. I never missed this opportunity to hear a distinguished visitor, and can still recall some of these preachers and their sermons. Among them were such men as F. B. Meyer, much-beloved in America, and A. C. Dixon, Spurgeon’s American successor at the Metropolitan Tabernacle in London. Others not so widely known nonetheless also made a deep impression on my young mind. Of those who came to these anniversaries, two men especially impressed me with their preaching, not only then but in later years as well. One was John Henry Jowett, often called “The Greatest Living Preacher,” and the other George Campbell Morgan, proclaimed “The Prince of Expositors.”

In those days Campbell Morgan made a greater impact upon me than Jowett. His pulpit presence was impressive, and his “curiously memorable face” was such indeed. There was no question about his being a preacher. He invariably wore a clerical collar (not because “you must put it on you if you haven’t got it in you”) and always had the proper bearing. While his impressive appearance helped, it did not of itself explain his phenomenal success as a herald of God.

Campbell Morgan was as much American as he was British. He spent much time in America, and loved and understood its people. And his association at the famous Northfield Conference with the son of D. L. Moody—an association begun quite early in his ministry—enriched Campbell Morgan’s character, strengthened his preaching, and enhanced his reputation in North America.

Although he was of Welsh extraction, his preaching had none of the Welsh characteristics found in Welsh pulpiteers like Howell Harris and Christmas Evans. He was born, in fact, not in Wales, but in a Gloucestershire village on December 9, 1863. The family soon removed, however, to my native city, Cardiff, where he was reared as a Wesleyan Methodist. His father had been a Baptist minister for some years before joining the Plymouth Brethren, “the straightest of the sects.” Its members took the Bible literally, denounced anything savoring of the “social gospel,” and demanded the strictest separation from the world. Their concept of independence set them apart not only from “the pope and the devil,” but also from all other churches.

However much or little of this teaching was imparted to Campbell Morgan, his early association with the Methodists influenced him far more. As a mere youth he began to preach in the little churches of South Wales and Monmouthshire, and was soon in constant demand. In his early twenties he was “on the plan” as a lay-evangelist, and won considerable fame as a revivalist. Clearly, God had called him to the ministry. So the young evangelist believed, and so did a host of discerning admirers.

Although across the years he often preached in Methodist pulpits, Campbell Morgan never became a Methodist minister. His trial sermon had “showed no promise,” and he was rejected for the Wesleyan ministry. For some years prior to this jolting experience, young Campbell Morgan had earned his living as a schoolmaster, much as did Phillips Brooks, his older American contemporary. There was one significant difference, however: Phillips Brooks was a failure as a teacher, whereas Campbell Morgan was a shining success. While he had no formal training in pedagogy, he proved to be a “born teacher.” This teaching ability he took with him when he eventually entered the ministry.

At the age of twenty-six Campbell Morgan accepted the pastoral oversight of a little Congregational church in the English Midlands. And despite his lack of formal training for the great work he was destined to do in the Christian church, it quickly became evident that he was indeed destined to do this mighty work. Within five years of entering his first pastorate he became minister of an important church in Birmingham, and virtually next-door neighbor to the great Robert William Dale, the most distinguished Congregationalist preacher and thinker of that day.

One day Robert Dale sent for the new preacher. Campbell Morgan knew that the great man was a fierce advocate of adequate preparation for the ministry and a great foe of theological illiteracy. The young minister was only too aware of his own educational insufficiency, so when Dale asked his visitor about his reading, Campbell Morgan apologetically spoke of himself as an “untrained man.” The great preacher rebuked him firmly, yet kindly. “You must never say that you are untrained,” he said. “God, who has many ways of training men, has trained you; and I pray that you may have great joy in his service.”

The young minister did have great joy, and also great success, in the service of Christ. In only a few years he seemed to sky-rocket to stardom! The parallel in this respect between Campbell Morgan and Spurgeon, his older and more illustrious contemporary, is obvious. Before long London claimed the former as years before it had claimed the latter. Campbell Morgan went to New Court Church, in North London. Then, after a period at Northfield and on the North American continent generally, he returned to London to minister at Westminster Chapel, in the heart of the city and in the shadow of Buckingham Palace.

Campbell Morgan was probably the most competent, certainly the most popular, Bible teacher of his time. It is no exaggeration to say that he rediscovered the English Bible for the average educated reader. Like no other preacher of this century, he had the enviable gift of providing a way into the throbbing heart of God’s Word for any who would listen to its inner message. Like John Robinson of Leyden, he believed that God has always yet “more light to break forth from His Holy Word,” and it became Campbell Morgan’s supreme concern to be a worthy channel—both intellectually and spiritually—for this Divine Light. It was a day when “newer views” of Scripture were being much canvassed, to the puzzlement—and even bedevilment—of many rank-and-file believers. Campbell Morgan realized the pressing need of stimulating a genuine desire to understand the message of the Word and, as old Thomas Chalmers would say, to “proceed on it” in the business of living the Christian life. Campbell Morgan set out to provide that stimulation. That is why his preaching was so memorable and so fruitful! That is why his midweek Bible lectures were the weekly event for thousands of people! From the very beginning of his ministry he determined to be an expounder of Holy Writ, A Man of the Word (as a biography by one of his daughters-in-law is entitled). No wonder he came to be known as “The Prince of Expositors.” In this regard he was truly the successor of Alexander Maclaren.

In a revealing bit of autobiography Campbell Morgan tells about passing through what the medieval mystics called “The Dark Night of the Soul.” His mind was clouded by perplexities, his faith riddled with doubts, and his Bible shut tight. He was in mental anguish, in spiritual gloom. Then came the moment of crisis. “In my despair,” he wrote, “I took all my books, locked them in a cupboard, and left them there for seven years. I bought a new Bible, and began to read with an open mind and a determined will. That Bible found me. Since that time I have lived for one end—to preach the teachings of the Book that found me.” It was a great experience, one that recalls what Samuel Taylor Coleridge said when asked why he accepted the Bible as the inspired Word of God: “I believe in the Bible because it finds me.”

As I look back I think that Campbell Morgan made his greatest impression on me (and on several thousand others) by a series of remarkable sermons he delivered in Westminster Chapel during the early months of World War I. These sermons dealt wisely and courageously with the living issues of the conflict. I remember particularly his sermon on “Multitudes in the Valley of Decision” (Joel 3:14). It was so dynamic that on several occasions the staid congregation broke into sustained applause—something unprecedented in that stately sanctuary. One thing he said with tremendous effect was this: “I here affirm that in my heart there is the profoundest conviction that never again shall we see our sons and brothers and fathers marching to slaughter in the interests of pride and power.” It was tremendous preaching, it was electrifying preaching. Elocution and diction were excellent, the spiritual passion supremely intense. No wonder the applause was loud and sustained. History, unfortunately, has betrayed the great preacher’s optimism.

The golden rule for preaching has been defined as follows: “Make sure of your first sentence; make sure of your last sentence; and put your first sentence and your last sentence as close together as you possibly can.” In other words, give special attention to your introduction and your conclusion and don’t be “long-winded”! Campbell Morgan certainly took pains with his introductions and conclusions; just as certainly, however, he did not put them close together. His sermons were twice as long as the average sermon today; indeed, just his introductions were as long as many present-day discourses in their entirety. Even by the standards of fifty years ago Campbell Morgan’s sermons were far too full, and not even the most intent listener could have absorbed more than one-tenth of any of his discourses. But there was never any doubt or confusion about the main thrust of a message, whether it was on “The Ministry of Hope,” “Triumph Amid Tragedy,” or “The Dominion of Man” (actual sermon titles). Campbell Morgan had a remarkable gift for clear and direct speech. Phrase-making, let alone paradox-mongering, held no appeal for him. Some of his “sermon-tasters” may have criticized his failure to deal with “modern problems” or may have disliked his preaching technique. No listener of average intelligence, however, could ever say he did not know what Campbell Morgan was “driving at.”

Campbell Morgan did not survive into our frightening space age! But were he with us today, he would certainly still find his messages in the Word of God. He would still be “The Prince of Expositors.” He would still find his satisfaction in unfolding the inexhaustible treasures of Holy Writ. He would have his critics, of course, even as he had them in his lifetime. Perhaps a few words from P. T. Forsyth are to the point here: “We do not treat the preacher fairly when we judge him by his statements, logic, anecdotes, or phrases. We must judge him by his positive and effective message.” So judged, there is no doubt as to Camp bell Morgan’s stature in the history of preaching and in “The Royalty of the Pulpit.”

JOHN PITTS

Minister

Calvary Presbyterian Church

Margate, Florida

The Reasoners

The Nicodemuses reason

causes,

effects …

fallouts,

fears,

infinity …

keeping mathematical queries alive.

“See,” they say, “the end does not arrive.”

They do not know that

reasoning

the absolutes of

dust

can never find the plan

by which Eternal God transmutes an endless life in man—

through simple trust …

nor can it bring

a tryst

with Christ, nor

cause

the Cause of everything

to seek

a simple throne of flesh—

their own.

And so,

the Nicodemuses even reason

Reason,

searching alone

in eager, ever-darkening

delusions

for their fixed

conclusions.

LESLIE W. SMITH

Plan Your Preaching

In our busy world no minister “finds” time to prepare sermons. He must plan his preparation! The pressing duties of any pastorate, large or small, can easily shove sermon preparation aside. Let’s face it—time is at a premium. What little there is of it is dotted with meetings, calls, counseling, errands, ringing phones, complaining members. But reading and sermon preparation—aren’t these usually the first to be neglected?

I am in only the second year of my pastoral ministry, but I have already come to realize the necessity of planning my pulpit schedule several months in advance. Some time ago I had to take myself aside and work out a pulpit schedule that would provide for disciplined study, long-range plans, and flexibility. Series preaching proved to be the answer, and I would like to commend it to others.

By series preaching I mean any program that includes preaching on either a book of the Bible or a biblical doctrine, theme, or character over a period of several Sundays, or even several months. Planning a Year’s Pulpit Work, by Andrew W. Blackwood (Abingdon Press, 1942), is one of the finest books of helpful suggestions.

Let it be understood at the outset that series preaching has not answered all my questions nor solved all my problems. Interruptions still come, and any program of preparation must be flexible enough to allow for them. But advance preparation cushions the frustration of interruptions.

Several things commend the kind of series preaching I have suggested. First of all, it makes for discipline. The minister more than any other professional man runs the risk of becoming lackadaisical. His time, to a large degree, is his own to budget. He has no time clock to punch and is free to establish his own habits. But if he is not careful he will find himself wasting time, day after day doing little or nothing.

We ministers can always find a good excuse for the things we do—or so we think. But place these “things” up against some of the shoddy preaching heard from our pulpits, and our use of many a minute will fall under judgment. Discipline is a sorely needed tool in a minister’s workshop.

Second, series preaching broadens the ministry of the pulpit. The minister who searches for a text on Tuesday morning or, as some do, on Saturday evening, will probably only find one he has been using off and on for months, even years! His thoughts have stagnated; consequently, his sermons revolve around two or three themes. The great gamut of Christian truths is left untouched by the very man responsible for the spiritual diet of his people.

Series preaching will force a man into various new areas of Christian truth and make him do serious spade work. The result will be new sermons on new themes. This is a rewarding experience both for himself and for his congregation.

A planned program will require a man to check his past schedule of themes, Bible books, and subjects on which he has preached; this will enable him to lay plans for exploring those new areas of truth on which he ought to preach. I have found myself including several subjects that I might have neglected had I not had a program to guide my sermon planning. To do this effectively, however, a minister must know his people. He must take the pulse of their spiritual needs, then plan his sermonizing to meet these needs.

Third, series preaching immerses a minister in his Bible. No planned program can long endure unless the minister becomes engaged by the Word of God. The Church’s need in this hour is not for great orators or masters of logical profundity. Rather, our need is for men who will search the Scriptures and preach what they find!

In planning a preaching program the minister should, I think, decide to preach a series of sermons on a number of Bible books, perhaps four or five a year. Some biblical books are more adaptable to morning preaching; and if you are fortunate enough to have an evening service, you will find a Bible book a wonderful source for sermonizing then, too.

I recently planned for a series in Philippians during the morning services for two months, allowing one Sunday for a special-day sermon. I set aside three weeks to read and study the Philippian letter, using books and commentaries and making notes. Then I allowed three weeks to prepare outlines and sermons.

For the same length of time I devoted the evening service to the Book of Amos. Again, I allowed three weeks for study and three weeks for putting the outlines and sermons together.

There is really no language to describe the joy and the satisfaction that come from such a study in depth. One experiences that the designation of the Bible as the Word of God is no mere cliché. As a divine rather than a human word, it does in fact have infinite resources. Drawing upon these the preacher learns that he can never really be “preached out.” Such blessings, however, do not come automatically; they arise with study in depth and planned sermonizing.

Fourth, series preaching brings the Bible to the congregation. It keeps the people with a given book long enough for it to speak to them—in depth! A text from one book in one service and a text from another in the next service makes for spasmodic Bible consciousness. This is not to say that this may never be done. If the preacher is to treat the many themes that the needs of his congregation require, he must allow for times of moving about freely, times when his study will be governed, not by programming, but by the varied and changing needs of the hour. I am only suggesting that an unbroken diet of this sort of hither-and-yon, butterfly technique is not the most profitable.

Fifth, series preaching keeps the preacher at his task of proclaiming the truth of God—and away from the temptation of merely drawing upon the wells of his own opinions. Series preaching takes the minister on a spiritual journey where he sees and hears what God has said, and what God wants said to his people. “Thus saith the Lord” supplants the human opinion. This depth-study of the Scriptures can change both a minister’s heart and his conception of his task. His pulpit thus becomes a sacred place where he is a “dispenser of the Word of God.”

Sixth, series preaching encourages expository preaching. Expository preaching requires diligent study. A minister who tells his congregation only what he himself thinks doesn’t have to spend much time in study. But the task of study and preparation takes on new dimensions when the occupant of the pulpit regards his task as that of telling his people what God thinks. What God thinks, what the mind of Christ is, cannot be discovered by running lightly through one’s own mind; probing deep into the biblical record is necessary. Even if the mind traversed is the Christian mind, its contents is not the proper burden of preaching. In expository preaching the Word of God speaks. In topical preaching there is always the risk that one will speak only of his own mind and its contents. Thus the sermon, for all its public character, becomes a mere soliloquy. The pulpit exists, however, to herald forth the mind of Christ, the word and deeds of God.

Seventh, series preaching requires (and provides!) a reservoir of material. To achieve such a rich background out of which he can preach, the minister must read and read. If he preaches on a subject only once, he will hit the high spots and leave a wealth of material untapped. If, however, he sets himself to preach a series of sermons on a given subject, he will read and study his subject extensively, for he will be under the demands of more than one sermon. In this probing and studying of the Bible, commentaries, and other books, there are thrills for the man who is willing to work for them.

I strongly recommend series preaching. The work is hard, but the dividends are high.

END

THE CALLING OF THE MINISTRY

IMAGE OF THE CLERGY?—To your man about the town or on the factory floor most clergy are either objectionably wet or drearily dry; some few may be neither, but such are regarded as freaks of nature who have, perhaps, been rather smart at finding a job with few cares or responsibilities at which one may work as flittingly as one pleases.—RICHARD ALLEN, “Through a Glass Darkly,” in the Church of England Newspaper.

MARK OF THE MINISTRY—The modern minister of religion has been described as “overworked but unemployed.” He is burdened with duties that consume time without using his special gifts. He is called to minister, but finds himself forced to administer; he is a cleric who no longer writes, a parson who is no longer a representative person, a prophet who is hailed as the best type of organization man, a called man who is valued when he is like everybody else.—“Peter Parson’s Log,” The British Weekly.

GO TO THE TOP—I was given the other day one of the latest innovations from America, a card to carry in your wallet which has printed on it: “I am an important Catholic. In case of an accident, send for a Bishop.” I thought it is no wonder there have to be nine auxiliary bishops in the New York archdiocese, and I wonder if that will be enough, as motor cars and accidents go on mounting, and what other activities of a less truly pastoral character these bishops may have to drop.—Father DOUGLAS WOODRUFF in The Tablet, London.

MINISTERIAL OUTPUT—8000 revs a Minute is a book on racing cars, not on the output of theological colleges.—Columnist in the Church of England Newspaper.

The Possibility of Biblical Preaching

The plea of those who set the style for contemporary preaching is that our age needs biblical preaching. The American culture, however, presents difficulties so tremendous as to make true biblical preaching almost impossible. This article will develop the predicament of preaching and then present practical techniques on how to surmount some of the difficulties.

Preachers of different sorts call their preaching biblical, and so the term must be pinned down.

The preaching with the weakest claim to be called biblical is that based on biblical ethics. Only the behavior patterns of a Christian ethic as presented in the Bible are considered relevant to the present age. Biblical theology is neglected as fit only for a less sophisticated era.

The second level of biblical preaching is that which uses the scriptural material as a springboard for a discussion of current problems of life, using modern cultural patterns and language. The words of the text are applied directly to the problem, and the difference between preachers is the choice of text.

The third level is actually a subdivision of the above. The text is developed using mostly biblical illustrations, and the sermon is liberally laced with quotations of familiar Bible verses.

The fourth level is that of the doctrinal preacher who develops logical statements of faith on the basis of clearly applicable Bible verses. The weakness of this preaching is that generally the preacher examines only the Scriptures which clearly uphold his position. The difficult passages are ignored or glossed over by some rhetorical sleight of hand. Doctrinal preaching can very easily become philosophical or creedal preaching rather than biblical preaching.

These levels are progressively more biblical. Some men who carefully do their exegetical homework for each sermon have come close to biblical preaching.

The problem is the American culture. Our cultural patterns are so different from those of biblical times as to make biblical preaching almost impossible. A description of the American culture is beyond the scope of this article, but Max Lerner gives a concise and accurate picture of its fullness and complexity in America as a Civilization. As Lerner finally concludes, this American culture is a materialistic one—though perhaps not in its on-paper ideals. And a great modern culture can be very pervasive.

Facing Modern Materialism

The world view held during biblical times was quite different from that held by modern America. The universe of pre-modern times was a two-level world, with both the spiritual and the material enjoying reality; even the eggheads on Mars Hill were reached by an argument based on the reality of the spiritual universe. America’s world is a one-level materialistic one.

The American culture is the cause of another specific problem for biblical preaching because of its commitment to modern science. Without modern science, American materialism would not exist. One of last fall’s issues of this magazine was concerned with evolution. CHRISTIANITY TODAY was at odds with the culture here. The culture has for the most part settled this question for itself—man evolved.

For the scientifically oriented intellectual the problem involves much more than just the question of evolution. Some form of theistic evolution still can posit God as in control of the universe. But present-day physical and social science uses as an intellectual and conceptual tool probability theory. Probability theory says that a class of events or things can be accurately described, but individual events or things are random in the class. Probability theory has become extremely sophisticated and is used to discover and describe almost all modern knowledge. Such a doctrine is contrary to the traditional theistic world view of a sovereign God who rules in the lives of men.

American culture is so far away from the ancient cultures that doubt arises as to the possibility of biblical preaching. If a preacher preached completely in biblical thought patterns, would men be converted? Or would the people dully sit through the sermon understanding very little?

Some find a common ground of Scripture and modern culture in the sinful nature of man. William Golding, in his currently popular novel Lord of the Flies, presents man as being as savage and brutal as do any of the prophets. But Golding presents man as man, while the prophets tell about man before God. The id of Freud is not the sin of Scripture.

The fifth level of biblical preaching can be described as preaching in the thought patterns of the Bible. Modern archaeology, sociology, anthropology, and psychology have presented resources enabling man to learn biblical thought patterns and thus to preach in them. A touch of irony is notable here: scientific methodology and the specific disciplines of modern science which have driven our culture away from biblical thought patterns are also the tool by which we can learn about these ways of thinking.

Absolute biblical preaching is most likely an impossibility, because the sermon could never be free from the cultural conditioning of both preacher and listeners. But the possibility of deliberately seeking to adopt the biblical patterns of culture—although the adoption can not be complete, millennia having passed—does exist.

The premise upon which preaching gains its power is the direct witness of the Holy Spirit to the Word both in the preacher and in the listener. To have the Spirit in power the preaching must be thoroughly biblical, even to the point of changing some of the styles of popular modern preaching.

If Americans are so hopelessly out of touch with biblical culture, is there any possibility of biblical preaching? Biblical preaching has to be possible or the cause of Christ is lost. The old-fashioned (but not extinct) prophecy preachers offer proof that biblical preaching is possible. Unbiblical notions from wretched exegesis, prejudice based on ignorance, and crudeness of preaching can never take the power out of this preaching, because it grounds itself in the radical eschatology of the Bible. Conservative preachers preach Christ’s person and work. But this Christ is in and of history. The eschatology preachers preach a Jesus who is now about to break up history. The continuing existence and success of this kind of preaching is encouraging to hopes for truly biblical preaching.

A Matter Of Courage

For the preacher biblical preaching is a matter of courage. Since messages of this sort do not tickle the ego of the listeners, they may not bring professional advancement. Can the preacher cut loose from the cultural moorings of our materialism and trust the Spirit of God to move? The preacher must back up this kind of preaching with prayer that the Spirit of God will bring faith and willingness to submit to the Scriptures. He must set up priorities in his own life so he can have time to immerse himself in God’s Word. The busy work and the crowded schedule have to go.

To preach biblically, the preacher must submit himself to the discipline of the Bible. This involves a commitment deeper than a creedal position. Creeds are very fine as practical instruments for the organization of a religious body and as an elementary teaching device, but biblical preaching must go beyond the creeds. A creed is brief and simple by human design. The Bible is discursive and complex from God’s revelation.

The above might be construed to mean that this writer is in full sympathy with those who have no creeds, but this is not so. The non-creedalists come in two varieties, those who have such a paucity of doctrine as to make a creed impossible and those who say that they believe only in the Bible. The non-believers could not do biblical preaching, while the great majority of the second group have a clearly formulated set of categories by which they interpret and preach the Christian faith. Therefore, the lack of a creed in the usual sense of the term is no particular guarantee of biblical preaching. Since the Bible is the judge of creeds rather than creeds of Scripture, biblical preaching is superior to creedal preaching. Creeds, written or unwritten, have a practical use in the life of the Church, but not as a substitute for the inspired revelation.

For biblical preaching, the preacher must study the best biblical scholarship. He does not have to accept everything he reads, but he had better read a goodly amount, much of it from outside his own little theological corner. The myth which Bultmann rejects may be exactly the stuff a truly biblical preacher is after. In many ways the New Testament theology in the writing of Bultmann, Cullmann, Dodd, Stauffer, and Wilder is tremendously valuable for preachers. Brilliant scholarship must be considered whether or not one agrees with it. The past two decades have seen a flood of conservative scholarship of value, and these men must be read.

Some might want to explore the possibility of seeking to restate the biblical concepts in contemporary thought patterns, but the language of liberalism should show the danger of this. Accommodation is very difficult. The only possibility for the biblical preacher is the Bible and the Spirit.

The possibility of biblical preaching is explained and justified by the first three chapters of First Corinthians, where the wisdom of the world is compared to the foolishness of the Cross. The power of the Cross is the Spirit of God. The Gospel has never in its history faced challenges equal to the materialism of modern culture. The members of this materialistic culture may not be able to understand the Cross by using scientific categories, but the Spirit of God can open the understanding of the heart of man.

END

Laymen, Spare that Preacher!

A virus infection kept me home last Sunday, and I had to “attend church” via radio. From the several church broadcasts offered by Chicago radio stations I made a good choice, for when the minister began his sermon I became absorbed. He held my attention to the end, and when the organist began playing the closing hymn I had the infrequent feeling that I could have stood more.

As I snapped off the radio the thought occurred to me that I had just listened to the first interesting sermon I had heard in a long time. This is more an observation than an indictment.

Sermons have greatly improved over the years, but in comparison with other prime competitors for people’s attention—radio, television, magazines, and books—they are not keeping pace. They lack preparation, prolonged thought, and inspiration. Mute testimony to this is our declining church attendance and the diminishing influence of the Church. The laity is being droned into slumber by sonorous sermons.

Many people still going to church do so out of long-suffering loyalty, or because they are attracted by what are sometimes referred to as “the cosmetics of religion”—those extras inserted into worship services to woo wayward worshipers into church. An accomplished organist, special anthems and tableaux by children and youth choirs, recognition of special groups attending in a body, jazz ensembles, guest soloists—these are the extra fillings. Even infant baptism is sometimes turned into a kind of baby show, scheduled merely for bringing in relatives by the pew-full.

Some of the revival of ritual is promoted by the desire to have an attendance-builder. Hope of success rests on the concept that people may be vain enough to believe something will prove interesting if they participate.

These “cosmetics” are legitimate and worthwhile to an extent, but they are supplanting the sermon, which is the voice of the Church and the greatest potential attendance-builder it has. There is nothing more enthralling than interesting sermons clearly expressed and well delivered. Penetrating, fresh, illuminating sermons can bring back the Church, and make her stronger than ever! Why aren’t sermons always interesting?

Why I Left The Pulpit

Curiously, the bulk of the blame is not the minister’s, but the laymen’s. The people in the pew have deprived themselves of interesting sermons by consuming an inordinate amount of their minister’s time. Present-day preachers are so busy doing everything in the church from conducting ladies aid elections to cranking the mimeograph that they have insufficient time and energy left for the reading, contemplative thought, research, and organization interesting sermons require.

I know, for I was a minister. After seven years of “successful” but frustrating work I went back to school and prepared for a career in religious journalism. I would go back into the ministry in a minute if I could have a schedule permitting me time to prepare quality sermons.

A few weeks ago while I was chatting with my pastor in his study, he mentioned how little time he had for sermon preparation. He made a sweeping gesture with his hand at the books and magazines neatly undisturbed against one wall and said, “I wish I had time to read these. As pastor of this church I’m nothing more than the manager of a $50,000 corporation.”

Time, and plenty of it, is the prime ingredient for creating anything worth disseminating. If a disinterested person outside the church has a choice—and he does—of investing twenty minutes of his time in listening to a sermon prepared in an hour or two or of reading a magazine article prepared in a day or two, you know which he will choose—and has been choosing.

Lee C. Moorehead, professor of preaching and worship at Methodism’s Saint Paul School of Theology, and an author, stated in a recent magazine article: ‘Certainly the thoughtful layman who wants his preacher to have something of substance to say on Sunday morning realizes that thoughtfulness is the result of intellectual activity that takes time. Therefore he will join the minister in helping to set up the conditions under which the minister has adequate time to study.… Thinking ought to take up a sizable block of the minister’s time” (Adult Student, Nov., 1962; © The Methodist Publishing House; used by permission).

Churches are spending much to train men for preaching, but the money and effort are largely negated by the poor stewardship laymen exercise in consuming their minister’s time.

How many hours of preparation a listenable sermon requires is difficult to ascertain, for men differ in their work habits. From my own experience, I found I needed one hour of preparation for every minute I was to speak. A twenty-five minute sermon, therefore, took me twenty-five hours to prepare. Of course, I couldn’t hold to that kind of schedule, and when I tried, I was sometimes accused of neglecting my job.

There are some consistently interesting preachers today. However one may differ from the beliefs and ideas of such well-known preachers as Harry Emerson Fosdick or Billy Graham—to name but two—there is one thing these gentlemen of the cloth cannot be accused of, and that is dullness. Perhaps this is why they are well known. Their ability to make men listen to their sermons lies not so much in oratorical talent as in what they say. Listening to them, one is readily aware that they spend hours on content and its organization.

The average parish minister, though, is kept so busy during the week that on Sunday morning he has the frustrating task of having to speak out before he has thought out. He must preach “off the top of his head,” and the result, usually, is a fuzzy, puerile sermon—and a half-filled church.

Journalism And Preaching

Part of the blame for uninteresting sermons must be laid at the doorstep of the seminary. My graduate education included training at both a seminary and a journalism school, and I must confess I learned more about sermon preparation in the latter than in the former. In the seminary I learned little more than sermon delivery, while in the journalism school the emphasis was on content.

I actually learned how to put a sermon together in a class on editorial writing taught by a visiting professor, Pulitzer Prize-winning Lauren Soth of the Des Moines Register and Tribune. When he learned I was a minister he told me that a sermon is nothing more than an editorial, and that if I wanted to hand in some excerpts from my sermons for editorial assignments, he would grade them. I was elated and had visions of breezing through a snap course, but the first five or six submitted averaged out to only a C—grade.

I was puzzled and a bit resentful. Didn’t he know I had spent three years in seminary learning how to write sermons? And I had pulled down an A in homiletics, too!

It was Mr. Soth’s comments in the margins that taught me the things I should have learned before. His comments ran like this: “inadequate subject”; “you don’t believe in your subject”; “thoughts incomplete”; “subject done too many times already”; “full of clichés”; “not told from best angle”; “straying from subject”; and “not put together well.” How these complaints exposed my sermons—and most of the sermons I’ve heard.

As the truth of these charges clawed through my pride, I wondered how many times I had lost the attention of my congregation because of such mistakes.

Eventually I received an A in the course, but it was only after devoting hours of thought to my sermon-editorials. One of the main lessons I learned was that something isn’t interesting just because I say it—even if I say it forcefully.

The Church will regain some of its lost influence when it restores its voice in the pulpit. Intelligent, positive, articulate, well-organized, and nourishing sermons will be listened to inside and outside the Church.

As one farmer advised his preacher on the way out of a service in which the preacher bemoaned the fact that more people hadn’t attended: “I’ve learned the best way to get my cattle to the feedlot is to offer them plenty of the right kind of feed.”

It is to the laymen’s advantage to work out a schedule with their preacher that will allow him time to tilt back in his swivel chair, put his feet on the desk, and stare squinty-eyed at the ceiling. They’ll soon find people flocking back to worship services and a host of green-eyed preachers wanting to serve their church.

END

Preacher in the Red

ALERT THE MISSING PERSONS BUREAU!

In my service to a rural congregation of 160 members, one of my obligations (and privileges) as pastor is to teach a class of Junior Highs on Saturday morning during the winter months. During a recent session of this class one lad asked this untimely question, “Who is Reverend Heart?” Before I could register my bewilderment, three other class members chimed in that they too wondered about Reverend Heart. I confessed my confusion and said I did not know him.

In quizzing the class I found out that Reverend Heart had something to do with the writing or the translation of the Bible. A bright member of the class added: “Pastor, you always mention him before you read the Scripture on Sunday morning.” Only then did I realize that the misunderstanding resulted from my frequent practice of introducing the Scripture reading with the words, “Let us listen now with ‘reverent hearts’ to the Word of God as we find it recorded in.…”—The Rev. E. D. BRUEGGEMANN, pastor, St. Paul United Church of Christ, Lebanon, Illinois.

What Is Preaching?: The Pulpit and Our World

Modern preaching is being most severely attacked these days, not by the people who hear it, but by preachers and theologians themselves. “Clergymen are numerous, but prophets are few,” states Dr. Kyle Haselden, editor of The Pulpit, adding that this “is a just and accurate indictment of current preaching. With one incisive stroke it uncovers the radical defect, the weakness underlying the decadence of the American pulpit.” He refers to the need for preachers “who with conviction and passion and in truth speak hopefully for God, whose pulpits remind men, not of the lecturer’s dais or the forum or a cozy experiment in group dynamics, but of Sinai, Calvary and the Areopagus.”

Dr. John R. Bodo, professor of practical theology at San Francisco Theological Seminary (Presbyterian), concurs: “We may hold, with complete biblical and historic legitimacy, that preaching is our main duty as well as the original normative medium for the proclamation of the Gospel. But our people … may no longer be greatly affected by our preaching or by any kind of preaching.… So we go on, from Sunday to Sunday, deluded into thinking that just because we have said something, something has actually happened, while people know (and we ourselves know it in sober moments) that the day of the ‘preacher’ is done.”

Dr. George C. Stuart, professor of preaching at Christian Theological Seminary (Christian Church), attacks the way preaching is taught in our seminaries. “Sometime ago I listened to a graduate of a well-recognized theological school announce to his fellow ministers that he had spent the first four or five years of his initial parish experience forgetting all that he had learned at seminary in order, as he put it, ‘to preach to the people in my church.’ Where was that student’s professor of homiletics during those crucial years? At a time when both biblical studies and theology are working systematically to build the act of preaching into the tissue of the Body of Christ, when most theologians today believe that preaching alone creates the real future of the church, homiletics is weak both as a science and an art.”

Charles Clayton Morrison, former editor of The Christian Century, recently remarked: “For a number of years I have been a modern Diogenes going about with my homiletical lantern in search of a preacher.… The pulpit, which is the throne of Protestantism, seemed to have become the footstool of a new ruler—the Cult of Consultation. The sermon has lost its character as an Event, either for the preacher or the congregation. It has become hardly more than a space-filling homily in a highly liturgical or folksy impromptu exercise preparatory to the coffee break.”

Now these are very dim views of the modern pulpit, and they are quite representative of the opinions of Protestant leaders generally. However, here is one more severe indictment of the modern pulpit which has something very constructive to offer.

Dr. Conrad H. Massa, assistant professor of homiletics at Princeton Theological Seminary, says: “In the history of the church preaching has been neglected, ignored, debased, even almost totally forgotten, but never has its place been as seriously questioned, by those who are genuinely concerned with the vitality of the church’s witness, as has been done repeatedly in this century.… All of this points to one inevitable conclusion: the Protestant minister today does not have an adequate theological understanding of the nature and purpose of preaching.… Doctrinal theology has given us exhaustive inquiries into the ‘doctrine of the Word of God.’ It has never given us a ‘doctrine of proclamation’.… It is time that theologians faced the unpleasant and rather startling realization that in the whole history of homiletical literature from Augustine to Blackwood, with only certain exceptions, the specific working aims of this activity of preaching were not taken from theologians but from pagan rhetoric! The aims of Christian preaching enunciated by Augustine, in Book IV of his On Christian Doctrine, were the aims of Ciceronian rhetoric, ‘to teach, to please, and to persuade.’ These aims have been picked up, repeated, and sanctioned by homileticians ever since.… The basic aims of public speaking cannot be applied to the gospel … because in the only sense in which ‘persuasion’ and ‘edification’ are theologically meaningful, they are the work of the Holy Spirit.…”

Exposition Of God’S Word

The sermon must be an exposition of the Word of God, not the word of man; it must come from the soul of the preacher to the soul of the hearer, as divine revelation by the power of the Spirit of God; it must confront sinners in the total context of their lives with the sovereign redemptive claims of God’s Word in the person of his Son. Therefore it cannot be judged in terms of results according to human standards. It does not “sell” something: it does not merely seek to please people, nor persuade them, nor even teach them or get decisions and conversions. Rather it tries simply to let the Word of God speak, knowing that in the last analysis only God can produce the results.

If our preaching is to have the note of divine authority, if it is to be authentic, it must strike men as being something much more than the word of the preacher. In other words, it must be theologically oriented homiletics; it must have a doctrine of divine proclamation behind it. The preacher may not be the greatest and the most popular, but he should have been taught a theory of preaching which comes, not out of mere pagan rhetoric, but out of the Word of God itself. This should be the heart of homiletics in the seminary.

Everybody can see that while the modern Church is growing, the modern pulpit is not—which raises a few very serious questions about the kind of growth which the Church is experiencing in these days of widespread religiosity. The distinctive feature which must fill the vacuum left by the modern pulpit is, as it has always been, that which the liberals themselves find wanting in their pulpits, and which the fundamentalists have not yet admitted is wanting in theirs—namely a theological doctrine of preaching the Word of God. A great opportunity lies before us, but it may be lost.

First, we can lose our opportunity by imitating others around us and sacrificing our distinctiveness in preaching, either because we would like to get the kind of dubious results others are getting, or because we yield to those voices in the church that don’t like anything too expressly biblical. Where the Word of God is preached in the power of the Holy Spirit, informed, faithful Christians can produce flourishing churches, filled with worshipers every Sunday, including the youth who profess their faith and take their fathers’ places. True, informed, Spirit-led Christians will support worldwide missions, home evangelism programs, international broadcasts, fine Christian schools, distinctive youth organizations, splendid institutions of mercy, journals and publications—but these do not result from the kind of preaching which is heard in so many modern pulpits. They can be found in churches that sound the authentic note of the inspired and infallible Bible.

Second, we can also lose our contemporary opportunity even though we maintain the high standard of distinctively biblical preaching if we fail to make our pulpits relevant to the context of modern life, if they speak only out of the past and not to the present and the future. We cannot live on an island in our culture, especially not with a truly theologically oriented homiletical theory. We have something theological to say, and we have theological pulpits with which to say it. Our sermons must not only be truly biblical, but they must also be biblically pertinent to the problems of the day in which we are living.

A Problem Of Communication

One of those problems, perhaps the very first one, is communication itself—how to get through to modern man. We are not preaching to yesterday, when words were relatively scarce and public speakers were few, when there was not so much fierce competition for the attention of men. The change in fifty years is almost incredible. Someone has said that today people are being talked into a coma. “Our entire way of life is being so governed,” says Dr. Bodo, “by selling and the mentality of selling that people automatically distrust anyone who tries to persuade them. Thus, when even hidden persuaders find it increasingly difficult to overcome the apathy and skepticism of the public, open persuaders like preachers dare not indulge in any illusions.”

This means that our pulpits must speak distinctively (without compromise of our basic theological and homiletical principles) to man as he is today, not as he was yesterday—whether we see him in our pews or somewhere else. In either case he is the same man. His life span is longer, but his listening span is shorter. He is always on the move, even mentally when he is in church, for he lives in a highly mobile world. So we shall have to talk to him in shorter sentences and shorter sermons. (Most of ours are at least ten minutes too long.) Anything we say after thirty minutes had better be outstandingly good, so good that it will stop the clock.

Through movies and magazines, through radio and television, modern man has been conditioned to communicate by pictures, not by words. He reads that way, he hears that way. He lives in a picture-dominated culture, and he doesn’t change when he goes to church. So, if we reach him it will be in the word and thought forms with which he is familiar; we must cast our homiletical theory into word-pictures. If that seems beneath our dignity, let us recall how Jesus talked in pictures to people who had not been conditioned by our modern means of communication. And isn’t the entire Bible in a sense God’s word-picture of his sovereign grace for a lost world?

Finally, we can also lose our opportunity by refusing to pay attention to the so-called details of great preaching which demand so much hard work in preparation and practice. Preachers who follow careful preparation of exegesis and neat outlines by merely standing up and talking are not doing justice to the demands of the modern pulpit. Those who write out their sermons, and then rewrite them again and again and perhaps again, are going to be the most worthy exponents of biblical preaching. To use the style of the spoken word rather than the written word; to think of how it will sound instead of how it will read; to preach in carefully chosen terms that are concrete, not abstract—these are marks of the worthy preacher. Can one who ignores these points really do justice to his calling as communicator of the Word of God, or succeed in coming to grips with the man of today in the world of today—within the church or without?

In that connection it is interesting and disturbing to observe that until very recently pre-seminary courses in most colleges required many hours of foreign-language study but only a few hours of speech. Indeed, young preachers must know these languages, but is it not equally important for them to know the language of their contemporaries to whom they must preach? Can they communicate to modern man if they cannot speak effectively to him—if they do not know how he speaks and hears?

I think it is fair to say that we have not paid proper attention to matters of style and diction, idiom and delivery. Too many of us are preaching in the language of the King James Bible, and also in the oratorical tones of that day—except that we are not as polished and grammatical. If we think that the common people will still hear us gladly, we have underestimated them. They will judge the Word of God by the words we use to preach it, even though they may not be too literate themselves. Protestant preaching ought to be the best in terms of content, biblically and theologically and homiletically. It ought to be the best in terms of communication: language and delivery, projection and pertinence, directness and rapport. Proclamation of the Gospel is dishonored when syntax and style and spelling insult the Holy Spirit. He is concerned not only in the larger issues of divine truth, but also in these so-called details.

Let us not forget that every sermon we preach leaves its mark upon those who hear it, for better or for worse. After hearing it they are never the same again. If they turn away, by showing this very definite reaction they prove the point. No, it is not presumptuous for a preacher to state this conclusion, for true preaching is the most powerful form of communication in all the world. This is not because of the preacher, nor because of the sermon, but because the voice of the Spirit is in every real sermon, no matter what the cynics of our day think of it. Even cynics can be and have been affected and converted by such a sermon.

Jesus told his disciples to preach the Gospel. When the Holy Spirit came to the Church on Pentecost, he did not begin his mighty work in this world by setting up an organization, by launching a new social enterprise, by establishing a counseling service, by joining a community crusade, or by drafting a set of resolutions, but rather by preaching the Gospel. He set up a pulpit and preached a sermon. On the Day of Pentecost, the Holy Spirit was first of all a preacher.

And so throughout its history, the Christian pulpit has always occupied the primary place in the true Church. There have been times when it was neglected. Then the Church lost its spiritual power. But each time the restoration of the pulpit was essential in bringing the reformation of the Church.

Such a time is upon us today, judging by the criticism of the modern pulpit directed by those who, in so doing, are also judging themselves. Christian homiletics, I believe, can produce the kind of pulpits needed today. It can bring a real doctrine of preaching the Word of God. But we had better be careful, for we could easily miss our opportunity to make that contribution. We could miss it by losing both our identity and our principles of preaching. We could miss it with pulpits that have no relevance to our day, that have no rapport with our culture, that are too isolated and too antiquated to be understood by modern man or to have any significance for the modern scene. We could miss it by refusing to learn the hard lessons and the fine arts of pulpit speech, by preaching the Word of God in words which the Holy Spirit cannot use, and which our hearers cannot tolerate.

END

Review of Current Religious Thought: May 24, 1963

Everyone understands that all theology is influenced by the particular thought forms of its day. Conceptual molds of historical periods are the casts in which human words, including theological words, are set. This is true not only of the Roman Catholic theology and its Aristotelian categories, but of Protestant theology as well. Think, for instance, of the Protestant scholasticism of the post-Reformation period: philosophical concepts helped mold many of its thoughts.

The influence on theology of its contemporary idiom is not limited to conscious use of certain thought forms. The climate of thought also penetrates theology. The world wars of the twentieth century set their marks on theological thinking. The confidence of the nineteenth century in man, both neutral and Christian man, was mortally wounded by the First World War and was followed by a profound skepticism concerning man. With this attitude prevailing in general, theology turned toward a concept of the kingdom of God which held it to be a gift of God rather than a fruit of human activity, a future perspective rather than an evolutionary growth. The radically transcendental eschatology of this period mirrored the times in which it was developed. Theology, that is, reflects the atmosphere in which it lives. This fact carries with it certain dangers. It also provides theology with a vital and relevant character.

All this, I say, is pretty well understood. Now, however, the question is raised whether the Church’s confessions are equally conditioned by their day. Is the Church influenced by the conditions of its day as it speaks and writes confessions? For some people, the answer must be negative. The Gospel, they remind us, is unchangeable, lifted above the swirling currents of time. But, on second thought, it must seem clear to all that we cannot separate Church and theology so clearly. The Church’s condemnation of Galileo was possible because the Church, not simply its theology, was acting according to the limitations of its time and its faulty understanding. The Gospel does not change. But our understanding and translation of the Gospel does, we may be grateful to say, change.

When we recall how limited our understanding of the Gospel is, how frequently the Church has needed correcting, we are not surprised that the Church is still in need of reminders that its confessions are not divine, but human words. To admit this is not to capitulate to relativism. It is only to say that we have no right to identify our translation of the Gospel with the Gospel itself. Paul had something to say about our incomplete understanding and about our seeing through a glass darkly. Children of the Reformation will, above anyone, be ready to confess that the Church’s confessions, even the best of them, are limited and subject to correction. The Church, as Bavinck said, takes its stance deep underneath the Word. In this sense we can say that a truly Reformed theology is written rather for today than for posterity.

We must remain open for any correction of our thought that the Word may at any time insist upon. Indeed, our preoccupation with the Bible means nothing if it does not mean that we keep ourselves open, open to more and clearer understanding. If one studies Kittel’s theological dictionary of the New Testament—the monumental work now at the threshold of completion—he is more deeply impressed than ever with the limited character of human speech about the Bible. This does not mean that our speech is worthless because it is mere human speech. The Church was and still is called to confess. But it must confess in humility. It must never leave the impression that its speech is final, that the last word about Scripture on any point has now been said. The Church must make it very clear that it stands under the scepter of the Gospel and that it can never be content merely to repeat yesterday’s words, the words which the Church used yesterday for confessing the truth.

The Gospel itself leads theology and the Church to ask what this means for their respective tasks. What does it mean for the confession and reflection regarding man as the image of God, for eschatology, for divine election (as over against determinism and fatalism, with which it is often confused, but with which it may never be identified)? It is a good time for both the Church and its theology whenever they are forced to see the relative character of their speech. For then they recognize that it is the Gospel alone which never changes and that the Church and its theology may not stand in the way of the Gospel. We are concerned with our limitations, and our stupidity, and our temptation to think we know it all. These are the things that can get in the way of and hide the light of the Gospel.

The problem of the relativity of human thought as over against the absoluteness of the Gospel is being considered within the Roman Catholic Church at this time. There it has its special troubles in view of the notion of papal infallibility. As we take note of the discussion in Roman theology, we are not only aroused to curiosity about their solutions. We are called as Reformed people to a new awareness of our own calling. We need have no fear for the dangers that hide in the bushes along the path. Fear of dangers must never determine our direction. The direction we take is the one laid out for us in the Gospel. Dangers, along this way, are meant only to be overcome, not to be escaped. The Church looks for victory, not for hiding places.

The Right to Die

An eighty-year-old woman who has suffered many years from degeneracy of the mind and an assortment of chronic ills suddenly has a heart attack. She is rushed to a hospital, placed in an oxygen tent, fed intravenously, given heart stimulants, and subjected to numerous tests. Within forty-eight hours she dies, however, and her family receives a staggering medical bill.

This kind of situation (Reader’s Digest, Dec., 1960) occurs many times over. In fact, some doctors and laymen are now asking, “How long are we morally bound to sustain the life of a dying man?” The issue isn’t one of euthanasia, or “mercy killing,” but rather of dysthanasia, or “difficult, painful and undignified death.” Are doctors morally bound to perpetuate life without regard to the kind of existence they are perpetuating? Have they the right to prolong life unreasonably?

The Apostle Paul could never have imagined what extraordinary methods would someday be available for preserving life. Yet in his letter to the Philippians he enlightens us concerning this problem of life versus death. At the age of sixty, and from a background of thirty years of Christian service, he writes the brethren from a Roman cell, where the threat of a death sentence hangs over him. Under these circumstances he says, “For me to live is Christ and to die is gain” (Phil. 1:21).

In this brief statement, the aged apostle formulates a distinctively Christian philosophy of life and death. He is saying, as it were: “So far as I am concerned, the only purpose for living is to act as Christ’s ambassador to men. Because the Philippian church still needs my help, it is better for me to remain ‘in the flesh’ even though I am old and would be happy to go to my eternal reward.”

In facing the problem of dysthanasia we need to consider, first of all, the “purpose of life,” a matter that confronts not only ministers but everyone who names the name of Christ. Why do men want to live?

Take the case of a certain sixty-nine-year-old physician (The Saturday Evening Post, May 26, 1962). One day he suffered a stroke in his office and was rushed to the hospital. His heart was still beating, but breathing had stopped. Although artificial respiration was begun, it was soon apparent that recovery was impossible. It was three days, however, before the struggling man found his rest. To what end was this life prolonged? Even if this sixty-nine-year-old doctor had lived, what hope was there for sustaining a truly useful life?

Many doctors argue that the Hippocratic oath binds them to the prolongation of life. This oath says, “I will follow that method of treatment which, according to my ability and judgment, I consider for the benefit of my patients and abstain from whatever is deleterious and wrong.” Is to perpetuate, even to compound human misery, to “abstain from whatever is deleterious and wrong”? Is such “restoration”—often short-lived, often to uselessness—really “for the benefit of” the patient? Have usefulness and purpose for living no implications for the Hippocratic oath?

What about younger persons and children? Is the same principle of “purpose” to govern the maintenance of life for them, too? I myself, under normal circumstances, can expect to live thirty to forty more years. As far as I’m concerned, my one purpose for living is to serve as Christ’s ambassador. If accident or disease were to destroy my usefulness in this regard, I would not want well-meaning physicians to keep me in a limbo between earthly survival and heavenly reward.

As I see it, the younger the person is, the more tragic it is to deliberately perpetuate hopelessly useless life.

Having said all this, I should emphasize that I am not advocating “mercy killing” by default. I’m not saying that the hopelessly ill should be abandoned. Where it is possible, such loved ones should be brought home. Instead of being subjected to “extraordinary measures,” they should be supplied with sedatives and analgesics and surrounded with abundant tenderness and love. The Saturday Evening Post (May 26, 1962) tells of a doctor who advocated and followed this very course of action in his own family in regard to an aged mother. Each family, obviously, and each doctor, must decide what constitutes “extraordinary measures” and must act accordingly.

I am simply trying to set down a basic principle for the Christian whose one purpose for living is to serve Christ. When medical prognosis shows that further hospital care cannot assure this kind of life, then the person should be brought home and given normal bed care. This procedure faces life and death realistically without abandoning the hopelessly ill.

The Apostle Paul’s view of death was as unique as his view of life. While he said, “Living is Christ, so far as I am concerned,” he also said, “but dying is gain.” Both biblical and classical Greek use the word gain to mean either material or immaterial advantage. At least once, the papyri contrast the gain or advantage of death with a “raw deal.” Death to Paul is the means whereby he will be able to enjoy the fruit of his labor. For him the “gain” of death is to go to his reward in heaven, where the Master will say, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.” The context of Philippians 1:22 bears out this commentary. By “but if I live in the flesh this is the fruit of my labor” Paul seems to say, “My only reward, so long as I remain in my body, is human existence.” In other words, for Paul human existence is but a poor second to death with its gain of heaven.

When a Christian is dying, a doctor needs to be aware of his patient’s sense of values. For such a one a vegetable existence offers no opportunity of living for Christ; moreover, it also postpones his heavenly reward. A physician’s “extraordinary measures” are not “for the benefit of” a patient if they prolong a believer’s uselessness as an ambassador for Christ and delay the realization of his heavenly inheritance.

For those who are not Christians the situation is different, of course. Their motivations and benefits are linked to this present life alone. And those uneasy about their spiritual lostness covet any extension of time to get right with God.

But as a Christian I for one demand the right to die. When this flesh is no longer of use for my Master, don’t force me to keep it! Let me be liberated to receive my reward! “For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.”—THE REV. ANDRE BUSTANOBY, Pastor, Arlington Memorial Church (Christian and Missionary Alliance), Arlington, Virginia.

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