Where Do We Go from Here?

The war in Viet Nam may well overshadow everything else as news during the coming year. In Washington, rumors race through the halls of government that we shall send more men to Viet Nam than we sent to Korea; that the war may last ten to twenty years; that the cost of the war in 1966 may run to $10 billion. Such a diversion of the resources of the richest and most powerful nation on earth, for the next decade or two, is sad to contemplate.

The thirty-hour holiday truce plea was a hopeful turn. If this Christmas ceasefire effort can actually be extended into a sincere quest for a just solution, bringing a halt not only to human conflict and suffering but also to Communist aggression, the anxieties of 1966 will be greatly lightened. If not, a grim year may be ahead in Viet Nam.

In its bombing in both North and South Viet Nam, America attempts to spare concentrations of people naturally found in centers of industrialization. This may be the most measured destruction in the annals of warfare, but many such people will unavoidably be killed.

The Communist Viet Cong are also selective, in their way. They aim their terrorism with particular force at native officials loyal to Saigon who attempt to establish some order and consensus in that bewildered and undemocratic land. These loyalists have been decapitated, their skin peeled off, their wives’ bodies disemboweled and slung atop fence posts. The tactics of the South Vietnamese are often equally repulsive to Americans, who have no tradition of cruelty. Such Americans do not know that some of the savagery practiced in Viet Nam is based on religion. They simply do not understand the Vietnamese animist living in tribal territory who believes that he bolsters his courage by devouring the organs of an enemy and that mutilation of the enemy’s body sends his soul into eternal wanderings.

As the war spreads and its horrors come home more poignantly, it is natural that many Christians—and non-Christians too—cry out for an end to it all. Christ’s Church is on the side of peace on earth and good will toward men. But it does not take religious commitment to know that the effects of war have vastly worsened since 1945, when atomic power introduced apocalyptic overtones to international conflict. This awareness of horror is shared not only by those who frame and support American policy but also by young draft-dodgers who do not want an unpleasant war to interfere with their comfortable lives and by responsible adults who in good faith believe their government is wrong.

How can the war be ended? One small group that sees all sin on the American side is boosting Red resolve by supporting their party line—raising hopes that we might pull out—and sending aid to the Viet Cong and to the North Vietnamese. Another group desires to bring matters to a fast conclusion by extending our bombing raids to Hanoi and Haiphong, and perhaps even to Red China.

Both these suggested ways of terminating the conflict may be too simplistic in a complex and confusing war that is far different from any we have fought before. The latter group argues that, if a stand had been made against the aggressors in Manchuria, in Ethiopia, and in Hungary, then the currents of history in this century would be remarkably different. None can deny this. It is always easy to assess the evils of the day; it is much more difficult, if not impossible, to assess what might have been if past history had been other than it was. And it is still more difficult to say that the formal preservation of freedom—however much this is to be treasured above totalitarian compulsion—will assure man’s choice of the good and the true.

The decision to bomb North Viet Nam was a watershed in America’s Viet Nam policy. In 1964 our oft-stated policy was that we were advising Asians how to fight their own war. With something considerably less than government candor, the rules of the game gradually but quite drastically changed during 1965. It is now more an American war than a South Vietnamese war. We are now fighting an international enemy to world peace and human freedom in a small country, and doing it almost without any aid from friends. Our presence in Viet Nam is nonetheless in line with our long-held policy to contain world Communism. On this policy we acted in Berlin and in Korea. And it is this consideration, rather than our commitments to the government of South Viet Nam, that accounts for the fact that most Americans endorse our military presence in Viet Nam.

Here, it would seem, lies the crux of our difficulty. We are now following a policy of selective bombing of strategic targets in North Viet Nam. Those who find comfort in the fact that such bombing was urged earlier and rejected find their comfort considerably lessened by the fact that such selective bombing has as yet shown no noticeable effect of bringing Hanoi to the conference table. Rather, it has hardened the will of the North Vietnamese, and Americans are now realizing that it is one thing to bomb an industrial center of a highly industrialized country and another thing to bomb a non-industrialized nation. The North Vietnamese have responded to our bombings with a yet more steely determination, as did the British under much heavier punishment from German planes in 1941. Since the bombings began, infiltration of the South has been greatly stepped up. Three North Vietnamese divisions are said to be in the South now, with three times that many likely to be there during 1966. Even if all infiltration from the North were cut off, the Communists have untouched launching pads in Cambodia and Laos, which no one seems ready to bomb. We have no assurance therefore that a mere increase in bombing will bring the war to an end. Indeed, the fear cannot be discounted that it might bring on a nuclear third world war.

On the other hand, in resisting the aggressor we are becoming increasingly involved in a land war in Asia, the kind of war we have always determined to avoid since in terms of manpower we are hopelessly unable to compete.

Thus we are caught in a predicament. We are restrained by all good sense from unlimited bombing, although we possess enough nuclear weapons to destroy the whole world many times over. We are, on the other hand, against our traditional wisdom and determination, compelled to fight a land war against masses we cannot begin to match.

This predicament should be enough to make every God-fearing man cry, God help us. We seem to have no better alternative at present than to do a little more of what we have been doing. There doubtless must be an increase of both manpower and airpower, enough and no more than is necessary to drive the Viet Cong out of South Viet Nam and Hanoi to the conference table. There are times and places when “too little and too late” is fatal, but we need the wisdom and discernment to recognize that there are also times and places where “too much and too soon” can be equally fatal.

It may well be that there is no wholly good and right way to end the war in Viet Nam. It may be that we shall now be compelled to learn that the consequences of human greed, of lust of glory, and of the will to power can so beset men that there is no way of escape, except that God himself intervene in ways we cannot now even dimly conceive.

God has promised wisdom to those who truly seek it, and a wave of prayer and of spiritual concern on the part of Christian believers could exert an incalculable influence upon the Asian war. The blunt question must be asked whether Christians are praying daily and importunately for the best solution of the Viet Nam problem. Prayer is nothing if not personal. With a humble sense of their own shortcomings, the editors ask every reader of CHRISTIANITY TODAY whether he is really praying for peace and for the guidance of the President and his aides—yes, and for the enemy too. The Vietnamese believers, and the chaplains who labor among the troops, link their hearts with ours in this cry for help. While we are convinced that Communist aggression is not benevolent, and that American resistance is a matter both of national and of international interest, let us be wholly aware that no nation dare play the role of Deity in history. We are sinners on our own account, with a sad record of having repeatedly lost the peace after winning a war.

It may be that the strongest, finest nation on the face of the earth will be taught in a small and weak country in the underbelly of Asia that it is not by might, nor by power, but by God’s Spirit that kings reign and nations prosper.

The Academic Sacred Cow

Many responsible Christians are expressing dismay at the “death of God” fad in certain American theological institutions. They are protesting the brashness of Young Turks who proclaim a so-called Christianity that first would stab to death the God without whom Christianity vanishes.

The time has come to say as loudly as possible, even at the risk of misunderstanding, that the sacred cow popularly known as academic freedom is the source of much of this difficulty. In its name many sins are being committed. Rightly understood and practiced, this freedom is essential. But its perversion can have disastrous results.

Academic freedom does not give professors in theological and church-related institutions the right to undermine and subvert the purposes for which churches and their institutions exist. It does not provide a shelter for heresy. Nor is it an ambush from which trigger-happy theorists can shoot at historic Christianity at pleasure.

No one should be so naïve as to suppose that the present crisis in the theological seminaries is a development that has just come upon us, for it has roots that go back many years. It began with denials of the full authority and inspiration of Scripture. It went on through disbelief in basic Christian doctrines such as the virgin birth, the vicarious atonement, and the physical resurrection of Jesus. It continues today in a neo-universalism based on a distorted doctrine of reconciliation. If all men are saved and need only to be informed of this fact, the most blatant forms of unbelief, even the “death of God” views, need not be opposed. Those who proclaim them are all going to “heaven” anyway—indeed, they may already be there!

If academic license is to prevail, no valid reason can be adduced for denying to the nihilists who would destroy God the same freedom their predecessors had to demolish faith in the virgin birth, the vicarious atonement, and the physical resurrection.

Some years ago the American Association of Theological Schools established guidelines for the practice of academic freedom. Their statement says that “Christian freedom exists within the confession of the Christian faith. Theological schools may acknowledge specific confessional adherence as laid down in the charters and constitutions of the schools. A concept of freedom appropriate to theological schools will respect this confessional loyalty, both in the institutions and their individual members.… So long as the teacher remains within the accepted constitutional and confessional basis of his school he should be free to teach, carry on research, and to publish.…”

This excellent statement was worked out by able, farsighted scholars and churchmen deeply interested in academic freedom. We deplore the nullification of its principles in some Christian institutions.

Since some seminary professors have turned freedom into license, have broken faith by such non-ethical practices, and refuse to remove themselves from these places of sacred trust, one must look to other ways to protect and preserve the inner integrity of the Church of Jesus Christ. The solution is obvious. Church bodies, boards of trustees, seminary administrators, and the laity must fulfill their obligations. Only their concerted action can rectify the situation. The time to act is now. Professors should fulfill their institutional obligations or be dismissed.

No one ought to be denied the right to disbelieve. But let unbelief be propagated outside the Church and her educational institutions.

Law Observance Sunday

Many churches in the nation’s capital recently marked Law Observance Day. Suggested by clergymen, it enlisted enthusiastic support from the police and the District Commissioners. Police Chief John B. Layton, a Baptist deacon, spoke at Calvary Baptist Church in Washington, where Dr. Clarence Cranford is minister. He urged listeners to accept their civic responsibilities, to understand the true meaning of authority, and to obey the law.

“Obedience and respect for the law,” said Layton, “must begin in the home.” He commended the old-fashioned woodshed treatment for disobedience and said that punishment should be “fair, swift, and sure.”

Layton labeled as dangerous the philosophy that “because we don’t agree with a law we don’t have to obey it.” In concluding remarks he said: “The Gospel and the law, working together, offer the best hope for passing on to our children the freedom our forefathers gave to us.” We wholly agree, and would add that the neglect of either is a sure way to erode that freedom.

Salute To Dan Poling

At eighty-one Daniel A. Poling has announced his retirement as editor of the Christian Herald, having given forty years’ service. During these years the magazine reflected the greatness of an editor to whom tribute is due. His life has been filled with good works.

Dr. Poling’s interests have been manifold: clergyman, chaplain, war correspondent, president of the World’s Christian Endeavor Union, author of twenty-six books, president of the Greater New York Federation of Churches, and Prohibition candidate for the Ohio governorship in 1912. Ohio State, Syracuse, Bucknell, Temple, Hope, Albright, and Bates, among others, conferred honorary degrees in recognition of his many accomplishments.

Dr. Poling has known fame, but he has also known tragedy. His son, Clark, was one of four chaplains who drowned in World War If when they gave their life belts to save others. Dr. Poling became chaplain of the inter-faith shrine erected in 1948 in memory of those four brave men.

Forthrightness in his approach to contemporary life has been one of his characteristics. Dr. Poling supports American policy in Viet Nam. “If we pull out and lose there,” he said, “then we’ll lose all of free Asia.” His creed as a Christian is unmistakably clear: “I believe the Gospel is first personal and always social. The place of the Church is not to change society but to change men and women, who will then do the changing of society.”

A man of God and a man among men, wise in the ways of life—this man we salute as he concludes this aspect of a rich and full career that has brought blessing to multitudes.

Ford Stewart, who succeeds him, will wear the mantle of a great journalist. To him we extend our hearty congratulations and our best wishes for a long and distinguished editorship of a highly readable and enjoyable magazine.

Needed: More Mature Stewardship

Few forms of Christian work require longer patience than Christian education. This is an endeavor in which results may not be discernible for many years. In contrast with evangelistic campaigns, the results of which often bring immediate joy not only to the angels in heaven but to God’s children on earth, education is a day-by-day enterprise that continues in rain or shine, on the heights and in the valleys. Although some of its results are soon apparent, these are not necessarily its ultimate fruit.

It requires a considerable degree of spiritual maturity for Christians to support God-centered education. Unfortunately some Christians do not back Christian schools and colleges financially because of their passion for immediacy. For them it is more satisfying to give to enterprises whose results are readily apparent or even spectacular. Such enterprises are indeed essential. But support of Christian education ought not to lag because other kinds of work produce quicker or more exciting results.

A leading criterion of maturity is the ability to postpone immediate satisfactions. Small children cannot wait; when they want something, they want it now. As they grow, they learn that fulfillment of desires must often be deferred. There are whole areas of stewardship—Christian education among them—in which those who give need to learn how to exercise patience. In the support of Christian education, the passion for immediacy must be resolutely put aside in the expectation that God in his own time will bring forth the fruit he has planned.

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