Commuting to the Valley of the Shadow of Death

What my patients have taught me about dealth—and life—by permitting me to be with them at the end.

Mrs. Anna Velosian’s daughter calls me to say that the cancer on her mother’s neck is bleeding heavily. I leave my office to make a house call on the 88-year-old Armenian woman. Her daughter meets me in the kitchen, and her mother is sitting on the sofa. Mrs. Velosian stands to greet me; she is four feet eight inches and now weighs 85 pounds. Ten years ago, she decided that she didn’t want us to treat the slow-growing cancer on her thyroid. But Mrs. Velosian’s cancer has recently grown into a tumor the size of a billiard ball. I remove the bandage and see that the white, glistening tumor has grown right through the skin. There is a red, open patch the size of a quarter. There are no visible bleeding vessels.

Mrs. Velosian’s daughter shows me the bedroom. Blood stains the pillows, the sheets, even the mattress. I return to Mrs. Velosian. She gives me a big smile. “How are you?” I ask. She is hard of hearing, but she knows what to say. She always says the same thing to her doctor. “Fine,” she says. “Fine.” And I see the cross on her wall and I remember her life story and I think, yes, you will be fine. You are fine now and you will be finer. And I call the home hospice nurse, and I tell the daughter to call relatives, because it will not be long before Mrs. Anna Velosian will be going home to be with Jesus.

In many ways, my patient’s stories are more interesting than my own—more poignant, more dangerous. Their stories have been full of lessons for me.

Seeing Mrs. Velosian reminds me that life has a tenacious dignity. Despite the cynicism with which we doctors guard ourselves, this dignity often takes us aback. The Down’s syndrome child, the patient with Alzheimer’s, the elderly person, and, if we look at the ultrasound, the unborn baby, all have dignity. Dignity is intertwined with life itself.

I also realize, however, that it is ultimately God who gives dignity to Mrs. Velosian and the patients I see. In Isaiah, the prophet speaks for God: “Listen to me … all you who remain of the house of Israel, you whom I have upheld since you were conceived, and have carried since your birth. Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he … who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you” (46:3–5, NIV).

A Navajo man, Mr. Albert Tsosie, is dying of diabetic kidney disease. He has been on dialysis, but he has developed an abdominal infection. His heart is failing. His wife and sister are at his bedside. I am writing notes in the nurses’ station of the small hospital on the Navajo reservation. I will return to his room in a few minutes, I think, and find him dead.

But I am wrong. I enter the room just as he is taking his last breath. I am there to witness it. He has been declining for days, his serum chemistries rising, his vital signs slipping. Now as I stand in the doorway to his room I think death has moved in just ahead of me, sliding past me through the door.

The Navajo man’s eyes are turned away. The room is still. Death pulls him away, and I turn toward his family. I begin to speak of his disease and his death. But even as I try to talk to Mr. Tsosie’s wife and sister, I see an amazing thing. At the moment they perceive his death, they physically turn away from him in horror and fear. And they will not speak of him again. For the traditional Navajo, death is the ultimate void.

What I see points me to a second lesson: We are not thankful or grateful enough for life, and we do not fear death enough.

God has given life dignity, but death is just a breath away. We can learn from the traditional Navajos, who recognize that without the hope of an afterlife, death is greatly to be feared. The Navajo knows enough to turn away from the dead in horror, even from a family member like Mr. Tsosie. Why? Because life is good and death is bad.

When I treat a patient who gets better, when the patient’s heart disease or hypertension or cancer responds, I am happy. But I am never flippant. Death will beat me. Death beats every doctor, and it drives us wild, makes us crazy. Death is always going into Mr. Tsosie’s room just ahead of me, always stealing the victory from me. So be it. The Scriptures tell us that Christ, not the doctor, has conquered death.

Mrs. Iona Christiansen suffered brain damage from a lack of oxygen caused by cardiac arrest. She was being taken care of by her husband at home. A dutiful caregiver, he washed, turned, and fed her. He did have home health aides coming to assist him daily, but the brunt of the care fell on him.

Mr. Christiansen felt good about his role as a caregiver, reasoning that during his working life his wife had cared for their children with little help from him, and now he was returning the favor. He had been taking care of her for about a year when I began making house calls.

The house calls were clinically indicated because he had to call an ambulance for transport and because, although Mrs. Christiansen could follow you with her eyes, she was unable to communicate. She did not require tube feeding, but her meals were long and laborious. Sometimes Mr. Christiansen or the aide would take over an hour to feed her. A year passed. Feeding became more difficult. It became clear that Mrs. Christiansen was dying.

One morning she began to have irregular respirations. Mr. Christiansen sounded frightened on the phone. I left the clinic, went over to the house, and spent some time there. Nothing more could be done for his wife; she was not in pain, and she was dying peacefully. I gave Mr. Christiansen a hug. His wife died three hours later.

Sitting in a pew at her funeral, I hear testimony of her love for God and for life before she was stricken. And I realize anew that Christians are not promised eternal life in our earthly, biological sphere—my third lesson.

This means that even though we value life we are not obligated to prolong human life endlessly here on earth. Mrs. Velosian refused aggressive treatment for her cancer, and she lived many trouble-free years before it began to grow wildly. The cancer took her life, but she was able to die at home. Mrs. Christiansen received aggressive supportive care at home, but died despite all the loving ministrations of her husband. The Christian is not obligated to go to heaven after two weeks on the respirator in the hospital.

Honoring life does not mean we must insist on all forms of treatment for all people at all times. That is honoring technology. That is the technological imperative. But God is sovereign. He determines the span of our lives. When doctors write down a phone number on a patient’s chart it is not just to communicate lab results or bug the forgetful about missed appointments. Sometimes we have to use the phone number to call with bad news. God is the only one who can really give eternal life.

And because we are not promised eternal life on earth, we have no right to procrastinate in the living of our lives. We do not own them.

We are like the man whose doctor called him and said, “I have bad news for you.”

“What’s the news?”

“Well, you have 24 hours to live.”

“That is bad news,” the man said.

“I have even worse news,” the doctor says.

“What could be worse than that?”

“Well, I tried to call you yesterday.”

This story is something of a retelling of Jesus’ parable about the rich man who was going to ignore God and build bigger barns before God called him and said, I have bad news.

This is also the message implicit in Ecclesiastes 12:1–6, with its counsel to “remember your Creator in the days of your youth, before the days of trouble come.” Because life is dignified, we prepare for its passing. And when life ends, we marvel at its passing, and we look up to God, who gave it so miraculously, and receives it back so mysteriously. But in the meantime, we honor God today; we do not shrink from choosing that which has ultimate, lasting value.

At the end of Mrs. Christensen’s funeral, I stir at the back of the church. I think of all the lessons I have learned from my patients over the years. They have taught me much about death—and life—just by permitting me to be with them at the end. I think I will slip out quietly now, finished with my funeral charting, my musing, my elegy of life. I expect to find the shadow of death outside, but again I am wrong. God has gone on ahead of me, as he goes on ahead of each of us, if we will. And when I step through the door, the sun shines brightly. The air moves with a fresh wind. The day is full of promise.

Loren Wilkinson is the writer/editor of Earthkeeping in the ’90s (Eerdmans) and the coauthor, with his wife, Mary Ruth Wilkinson, of Caring for Creation in Your Own Backyard (Servant). He teaches at Regent College in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.

Scroll Hype

Historian of the ancient world Edwin Yamauchi examines the power struggles, guerrilla publishing, and bizarre interpretations of the Dead Sea Scrolls.

The Dead Sea Scrolls are making headlines once again. Publications as diverse as Time, Vanity Fair, and the New York Times have run major articles on these ancient texts. Even a supermarket tabloid printed claims that the scrolls forecast a modern “nuclear disaster [that] will leave millions dead or homeless” and include “eye-popping predictions for top celebrities like Kevin Costner and Madonna.”

It is not the first time the scrolls have captured the attention of the world. After they were discovered in a cave by a Bedouin shepherd boy in 1946 and publicized in 1947, renowned archaeologist William Foxwell Albright called the scrolls “the greatest manuscript discovery in modern times.”

Scholars found other caves in the Qumran area near the Dead Sea that would eventually yield thousands of scrolls or fragments. The richest repository was Cave IV with some 15,000 fragments representing over 500 texts. Not only was every book of the Old Testament except Esther represented in the scrolls, scores of other documents shed light on the religious crosscurrents of Palestine in Jesus’ day. Strange new theories linking Jesus to the Essenes, the apocalyptic Jewish sect believed by most to have gathered the scrolls, also caught the notice of many.

Now, decades later, the scrolls still spark controversy in scholarly circles and whet the curiosity of Christians (CT, Jan. 13, 1992, p. 36). To learn more about the significance for today of these millenniaold documents, CT turned to Edwin Yamauchi, CT senior editor and professor of history at Miami University, Oxford, Ohio. He is the author of Harper’s World of the New Testament, and coeditor of the forthcoming Peoples of the Old Testament World (Baker).

Why have the popular media shown such intense interest in the scrolls?

Much of the intrigue has centered on clashes between scholars. The wrangling has been fueled largely by the long delay in publishing some of the scrolls. These are strong, colorful personalities who have scholarly reputations at stake. Those in the inner circle—the so-called official committee—have been at odds with those who have been excluded until recently from examining many of the scrolls. The monopoly on the Cave IV fragments maintained by the official committee—and the publication delay of over 30 years—has long frustrated scholars. The media sensed a story there. Then, late in 1990, John Strugnell, a Catholic scrolls scholar at Harvard, was dismissed as the head of the international translation team for alcoholism and anti-Semitic remarks.

How has the control of the official committee been challenged?

The monopoly was recently broken through several separate, but not entirely unrelated, events. First was the culmination of a crusade to release unpublished texts launched in 1983 by Hershel Shanks, editor of Biblical Archaeology Review and organizer of the Biblical Archaeology Society (BAS). In September 1991, BAS published A Preliminary Edition of the Unpublished Dead Sea Scrolls, reconstituted by Ben-Zion Wacholder of Hebrew Union College and his graduate student Martin Abegg. They used a handwritten concordance of the unpublished scrolls and a Macintosh computer to reconstruct the documents. The result of this remarkable feat was denounced as a “bootlegged” publication by the official scrolls committee.

Then, after a dispute between a wealthy patron, Elizabeth Bechtel, and the librarian at Claremont, California’s Ancient Biblical Manuscript Center, Bechtel deposited a second set of scroll photos at the Huntington Library in San Marino near Pasadena. In September 1991, Huntington’s new librarian, William Moffet, made these photos available to all scholars. This was highly controversial.

Finally, in December 1991, BAS published another set of 1,787 photos, whose source remains mysterious, in a two-volume facsimile edition, edited by Robert Eisenman and James Robinson. Elisha Qimron, a professor at Ben Gurion University in Israel, sued Hershel Shanks and others involved for publishing without permission his reconstruction of one of the important texts.

This series of events coming rapidly in the fall of 1991 aroused a fever pitch of interest, not only among scholars, but in the broader media.

Some publications have alleged that intrigue and secrecy surround the scrolls.

Some writers have even suggested conspiracies. These theories are bizarre. Michael Baigent and Richard Leigh argue in The Dead Sea Scrolls Deception that there was a Roman Catholic conspiracy to suppress the scrolls because many of the early scholars were Catholic. The idea is that the Vatican is guarding revelations that would challenge traditional views of early Christianity. That is quite nonsensical. They also erroneously claimed that 75 percent (rather than 20 percent) of the texts were unpublished. It is true that the closely guarded monopoly, the secrecy, and the limited access to the Cave IV scrolls and fragments aroused resentment and chagrin among excluded scholars. But conspiracy theories don’t stand up.

At any rate, we’re at a second stage now. The question of who should and shouldn’t have access to the texts has become moot. People may disagree whether it was a good or bad thing, but now the scrolls are available, and there’s no turning back the clock.

What do you think of the bizarre theories about Jesus that have grown out of the Qumran discoveries?

The most notorious example comes from Great Britain’s John Marco Allegro. He was chosen in 1953 to serve on the first international committee entrusted with the Cave IV materials. He had originally studied for the Methodist ministry, but soon abandoned any pretensions of faith and in numerous books did his best to overthrow Christianity. In 1970 Allegro left the University of Manchester and published a bizarre book, The Sacred Mushroom and the Cross. He claimed that the name Jesus meant “Semen, which saves” and that Peter’s name meant “mushroom,” thus revealing that Christianity was originally a disguised fertility cult centered on a hallucinogenic mushroom. Allegro’s fullest book on the subject of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Christianity was a work that was released posthumously in 1992, The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Christian Myth.

Then there’s Jesus and the Riddle of the Dead Sea Scrolls (1992), by Barbara Thiering, a professor at Sydney University in Australia. Thiering concludes that since the Qumran literature and the New Testament emanated from different wings of a single community, the latter should be read as a highly symbolic code.

According to Thiering, Jesus was born near Qumran, and the Magi were diaspora Essenes. She also argues that when Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead, he was releasing Simon Magus from Cave IV at Qumran. Jesus was crucified along with Simon Magus and Judas at Qumran, after Jesus was given snake poison that rendered him unconscious. Simon Magus administered aloe and myrrh, which purged Jesus of the poison. Jesus married Mary Magdalene, who bore a daughter and two sons. After a divorce, Jesus later married Lydia of Philippi, a female bishop. Jesus accompanied Paul, the author of the Qumran’s Habakkuk Commentary, when he traveled to Rome. It was there that Jesus died of old age.

Scholars like Thiering have abandoned orthodox Christianity as a viable option, so they seize on new evidence, which they develop into an idiosyncratic, revisionist theory. They have a peculiar conceit that they alone have the truth about the origins and nature of primitive Christianity, truth that evaded all other generations.

What do we know about the keepers of the scrolls?

Most scholars associate the scrolls and the Qumran settlement with the sect of the Essenes described by Philo, Josephus, and Pliny the Elder. There are some 50 parallels and only six discrepancies between their descriptions of the Essenes and what we find in the Qumran Scrolls. The Essenes, who were more separatist than the Pharisees, had two related groups—married Essenes who lived in the towns and celibate males who lived in a “monastery” by the Dead Sea.

The community probably originated in the second century B.C. There’s a clear date for the destruction of the community in A.D. 68, when the Romans destroyed the site of Qumran. Some of the scrolls predate the community. A text of Exodus, for example, has been dated to 250 B.C.

Why are the scrolls important to Christians?

Prior to the Qumran discovery, our oldest Hebrew manuscripts of the Old Testament came from the Middle Ages. While we had thousands of papyri from ancient Egypt and a half-million cuneiform tablets and inscriptions from Mesopotamia, we had nothing comparable from Palestine. Now we have thousands of fragments representing many manuscripts, especially Old Testament manuscripts. There could always have been some question of how accurately the biblical manuscripts were copied. But because one of the Dead Sea Scrolls is a complete book of Isaiah from about 100 B.C., just to give one example, it is clear that the medieval manuscript of Isaiah and its predecessors were copied with exceptional care. On the basis of the Qumran Isaiah scroll, the Revised Standard Version (1952) team made only 13 minor changes in Isaiah.

The scrolls have also opened a flood of light on the background of Jesus and his disciples. Here is an example: Liberal New Testament scholarship once argued that the unmodified New Testament use of the phrase Lord for Jesus was a Hellenistic intrusion not native to Palestine. And New Testament scholar Rudolf Bultmann argued that it was unthinkable for Jews to have used such a phrase for God, further undercutting the Jewishness of belief in the divinity of Christ. The scrolls prove that Jews around Jesus’ time used such terms in both Hebrew and Aramaic, and that Paul’s use of the phrase Lord Jesus goes back to an early Palestinian Jewish confession. John’s gospel, once considered by critics to be late and Hellenistic because of its dualism between light and darkness, is now shown by the Qumran parallels to be the most Jewish of the Gospels.

What would you say to those who fear “bombshells” in future scroll research that might discredit conservative Christian belief?

There is a story about John Allegro, originator of the “mushroom” theory. Upon learning of John Strugnell’s interest in a career in theology, Allegro wrote, “By the time I’ve finished, there won’t be any church left for you to join.”

Time has proven such claims ludicrous. Noted scroll authority James Charlesworth of Princeton Theological Seminary has said, “None of the fragments known to me and others who work on them can be judged in any way to disprove the essential claims of the Christian faith.”

The scrolls actually help us to better understand and appreciate Jesus. First, they point us to the Jewishness of Jesus, to things he had in common with other Jews of his time, including the Jews at Qumran. Second, they underline his uniqueness. When we study the Qumran community and their quasimessianic figure, the Teacher of Righteousness, we discover that there are many more contrasts than similarities between Jesus and that figure (see CT, May 13, 1966, pp. 12–14).

Contrasts between Jesus and the Essenes abound. The Qumran community emphasized hatred of outsiders, while Jesus preached love even for one’s enemies. The Qumran community excluded those who were lame, blind, or blemished, because the Essenes were concerned about ritual purity and Qumranites considered themselves all to be priests. (Jewish law specified temple priests must have no deformities.) Jesus, on the other hand, welcomed those who were infirm and healed them. When it came to the Sabbath and other laws, the Qumran community placed an extreme emphasis on purity, exceeding even that of the Pharisees. Christ, however, broke with legalistic interpretations of the law and stressed instead the spiritual intention, which is purity within.

The Essenes expected two messiahs and a final battle between the agents of good and of evil. Unlike Christianity, however, when this community was destroyed in A.D. 68, we hear absolutely nothing further about the group. That is in striking contrast to the Christian church. Christianity was involved in the same political, economic, and social circumstances, but managed nonetheless not only to survive, but to grow and to expand.

One major difference, of course, was that Christians believed fervently and firmly that their Messiah had risen from the dead and was coming back again. In spite of the controversies and bizarre interpretations of recent decades, nothing in the scrolls need lead us to question that.

Loren Wilkinson is the writer/editor of Earthkeeping in the ’90s (Eerdmans) and the coauthor, with his wife, Mary Ruth Wilkinson, of Caring for Creation in Your Own Backyard (Servant). He teaches at Regent College in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.

Cover Story

The Myth of Racial Progress

African-American church leaders speak out on white apathy, black anger, and the way of reconciliation.

As L.A. and other urban areas simmer with racial tension, many Christians ask, “What does the church have to offer?” The past two decades have seen countless multiracial prayer breakfasts, pulpit exchanges, and formal declarations of reconciliation. Evangelical Christians can point to many places where blacks, whites, Latinos, and Asians are worshiping and ministering in harmony and as equals.

Despite these attempts, however, Christians remain as racially separated as the rest of society. It is still true that 11 o’clock Sunday morning is the most segregated hour in America. It is a costly separation. When African Americans speak frankly to their white counterparts, they express deep hostility and frustration. They feel angry, hurt, and betrayed by what they see as society’s and the church’s failure.

Many white Christians are bewildered by these strong feelings. They wonder what nonwhites want. Many white evangelicals do not feel they are racist, and they say they very much want for all colors to be united in their faith. Writes Jay Kesler in his foreword to William Pannell’s book The Coming Race Wars?, “Frankly, I thought we were doing better.”

Yet black anger is an undeniable reality. So are the economic facts of life for African Americans. While many middle-class blacks have improved their situation, their experience is not the norm. As a group, African Americans are, by some economic measures, worse off now than at the height of the civil-rights movement. For instance, the unemployment rate for blacks in the late sixties averaged 7 percent, but in 1990 it was 11 percent (comparable figures for whites are 3 percent and 4 percent). Today, nearly one in four black men between 20 and 29 years old is in prison, paroled, or on probation; 9 percent of whites and 32 percent of blacks are poor; the infant mortality rate for blacks is twice that of whites; whites live, on average, six years longer than blacks.

Clearly, the racial divide is a grievous problem for America—and for the church (whose reputation is tarnished by a history of racial splits within its institutions).

The frustration goes beyond statistics. African Americans describe daily humiliations in the most mundane situations.

One black executive within a mostly white evangelical organization tells how she recently was told her teenage son can’t date a white colleague’s daughter. A black evangelical family recounts moving into a new house in DeKalb County outside Atlanta. Within a week their white neighbors on either side put up their homes for sale. For every positive statement about race by church leaders, there are countless painful incidents on buses, in classrooms, hallways, board-rooms, and churches.

Black leaders warn that we could be at a point of no return. Writes Spencer Perkins in More Than Equals: “A new phenomenon is growing among blacks who are frustrated with the reality of integration: a call for black separation.” Pannell writes in The Coming Race Wars?, “Ultimately, the [nonwhite] church in the city will have to go it alone.”

If this were to happen—if black and white Christians were to grow permanently, angrily separated—what would God’s people have to offer to a racially torn world?

Racial complexity

Only to look at black-white problems is, of course, too simple. Richard Rodriguez, a leading California essayist, says, “The Kerner Commission Report’s conclusion in 1968 that there were two nations in the U.S., one black, one white, separate and unequal, simply does not fit today.” With the explosion of the Latino population, who by the year 2010 will outnumber blacks, and the great influx of Asian immigrants, America’s racial situation has become much more complex—and more urgent. Both whites and blacks face new, bewildering ethnic diversity that they cannot avoid.

It is also true that nonwhites have their own racist attitudes to work out. Koreans and Latinos have well-documented racist attitudes toward African Americans. Blacks carry negative stereotypes of Koreans (as witnessed in last year’s L.A. riots) and are participating in black flight from communities turning increasingly brown or yellow in cities such as L.A. and Chicago. Their response parallels that of whites who fled neighborhoods when blacks began to move in.

In this CT Institute, however, we have deliberately focused on white-black relations. These groups have the longest and most complex history in the U.S. church. Unless they can resolve their differences, there is little hope for reconciling ethnic groups that have less shared experience.

Hearing voices

We asked 41 African-American Christian leaders—most of them evangelicals—to address the white evangelical community. We asked them, “What do you want your white evangelical brothers and sisters to hear right now?” A selection of those responses are excerpted below. We also collected selections from recent books by black church leaders for narratives and insights to illustrate why African-American Christians feel such anger and frustration.

White readers, we suspect, may be tempted to find reasons to discount these statements. The words are personal and emotional, strong and shocking. Some are hopeful, but most are angry.

The dynamics between blacks and whites are in many ways similar to those of an estranged couple. Often the problem is not some single tension-causing incident but lies with a pattern of behavior. If one of the parties consistently feels rejected or ignored, then something is certainly wrong. Rebutting the angry emotions may not help. Sometimes, as in marriage counseling, it is necessary first simply to listen long and hard—and not to interrupt with objections. Then, after the message is heard, we can go on to ask, “What can I do to make this better?” In this institute we invite our readers to listen.

Andrés Tapia is a senior news writer for Christianity Today. Research for this project was partially funded by a grant from Religion News Service.

Something Is Wrong at the Root

John Perkins, founder of the John M. Perkins Foundation for Reconciliation and Development, and publisher of Urban Family magazine.

Something is wrong at the root of American evangelicalism. I believe we have lost the focus of the gospel—God’s reconciling power, which is unique to Christianity—and have substituted church growth. We have learned to reproduce the church without the message. It is no longer a message that transforms.

It reminds me of the white Christian sailor in Roots who went on a slave cargo ship to earn enough money to get married. The church-growth philosophy of homogeneity is a heresy that, like that young sailor, has sacrificed principle for expediency. That approach has encouraged the separation of the church rather than reconciliation with God, each other, and the world—which is the church’s mission. There is no biblical basis for a black, white, Hispanic, or Asian church.

I wish the church could come to grips with its mission: to repent and turn to the poor. Jeremiah proclaimed this message through tears. We need some living examples to stand up and be willing to accept the persecution that goes with preaching this message. But I know that as with Jeremiah, those receiving the message will want to brand the messenger “angry” so they don’t have to hear what he or she says.

Separate Vacations

Kay Coles James, executive vice-president of the Family Research Council in Washington, D.C., and the author of Never Forget (Zondervan).

I became involved in a women’s Bible study that met once a week at a white church. One of the highlights of the year was a trip to Myrtle Beach with the families of the women in our study. All year long references to the annual family beach trip were dropped into conversation. I had heard so many stories about the fun times they had together that I was really looking forward to going. But we were never invited. As summer drew near, I overheard women making arrangements for shared beach houses, but the conversation would die down whenever I came near. The group left for the beach without us, and I was crushed. I’d never felt so betrayed and rejected.

Eventually embarassment and hurt died down enough for me to ask one day in Bible study why Charles and I weren’t included in the beach trip. An uncomfortable silence fell upon the room. “Well, Kay, we just felt that—well, you know that there aren’t very many black people at Myrtle Beach … and we just thought you would be uncomfortable.” They were concerned about us? Didn’t they see the irony? It took all my courage to read our Scripture verse out loud before the group, but I wanted to say something else. I did. “I guess I thought that if we wouldn’t be accepted at a certain vacation spot, that you would choose another one rather than leave us out.” Nothing more was ever said about it.

Silent Whites, Dying Blacks

Hycel Taylor, senior pastor of Second Baptist Church in Evanston, Illinois.

For us, as an African-American people, we have to ask some serious questions. What’s going wrong with us? Not so much in relationship to white people, but in relation to ourselves. What’s so stigmatic in our minds that we have now turned on ourselves and begun to kill each other, where now we become our own lynch mobs? We’re looking at genocide so insidious that if we quantified the dying of African Americans just for 24 hours across this nation, we’d need to call for a state of national emergency. We’re dying of AIDS; we’re dying of hypertension; we’re dying as stillborn babies; we’re dying from drugs.

What’s happening to white America? How can it be that a David Duke would rise to any semblance of power in this country today? As Martin Luther King quoted, “All you need for evil to triumph in the world is for good people to do nothing.” Will the white church be silent as these things occur?

Is it possible for the races to rise above their differences and yet not ignore the diversity? Yes, we can. And we can do it because Christ is in our lives, and Christ rises above all of us.

The Issue Is Sin

Robert Suggs, academic vice-president at Grand Rapids Baptist College.

When I pastored an urban black church in Rochester, I frequently got a particular kind of call from the white pastors in the area. They would say, “We have the name of a family you might be interested in.”

Invariably, when I followed up on the referral, it was a black family that had visited the white church. The white pastors who called me often assumed the black family had come to their church by accident, or that they would not feel comfortable there. But these families often told me they had gone to the church because it was in their neighborhood and that they had not requested a referral to a black church.

It’s distressing that white evangelicals seem unable to see the reason for the troubled relationship with their African-American counterparts. Why is there an estranged relationship between these two groups that agree with each other in the fundamentals of Scripture and basic lifestyle issues? It is, quite frankly, sin.

It is clear to many African-American evangelicals that their white counterparts are operating under a redefinition of sin. It’s a redefinition that does not see as sin that few African-American students and educators can be found at our nation’s approximately one hundred Christian colleges and Bible schools; that does not see as sin congregations leaving their urban neighborhoods and their unsaved residents in an effort to pursue homogenous groupings; that does not see as sin the persistent reality of 11 o’clock Sunday morning being the most segregated hour in America. The evangelical church has never repented of these historical, social, and personal sins of racism. To a large degree, it continues the practices, but now more subtly and in many situations, not at a conscious level. It is time to put the past behind us and to repent of the sins of all of our fathers and for the indulgences and insensitivities of our own lives.

You Can’t Dismiss Martin Luther King

Dale Jones, executive director of Quest Atlanta ’96, a multiracial ministry serving the community and visitors for the 1994 Super Bowl and the 1996 Olympic Games.

Martin Luther King, Jr., continues to be suspect among white evangelicals because of his education in liberal seminaries. What many whites don’t realize is that conservative Christian colleges barred blacks from attending their schools for decades, leaving African Americans who felt a calling into the ministry with few options. The liberal seminaries were the ones that opened the doors to them. Martin Luther King spoke prophetically about America and gave his life up to seek a Christian ethic in this land. If African Americans who love Christ honor King, then for whites to dismiss him is to disrespectfully dismiss the judgment of a whole group within evangelicalism.

Needed: An At-risk Gospel

Cecil “Chip” Murray, senior pastor, First African Methodist Episcopal Church, Los Angeles. Murray’s 10,000-member church was the focal point of relief efforts during last year’s L.A. riots and was named one of President Bush’s Points of Light.

White evangelicals need an at-risk gospel for at-risk people in an at-risk society. Calling sinners to repentance means also calling societies and structures to repentance—economic, social, educational, corporate, political, religious structures. Why is the neighborhood church not doing nightly patrols of its own neighborhood, where illicit drugs are sold? Why are we not housing the homeless whose sleeping forms we step over to gain admittance to our churches? Where are our prison ministries, our substance abuse or mentoring or ethnic crossover or counseling ministries? Why are we not more at risk?

Personal salvation is never divorced from social salvation because personal sin is never divorced from social sin. The gospel at once works with the individual and the individual’s society: to change one, we of necessity must change the other. Even as the individual makes bad decisions, so do their decisions result in part from decisions made by a bad society.

Hitting Bottom

Dolphus Weary, director of Mendenhall Ministries in Mississippi and the author of I Ain’t Coming Back (Renaissance), from which this was adapted.

Things hit bottom one day when somebody at the mostly white Christian college I was attending came up and told me, “Martin Luther King got shot!”

“What?” I cried. “You’re kidding!” I ran to my room and flipped on the radio. The newscasters were talking about it. I was devastated.

As I sat there on my bed, I overheard voices down the hall, talking about it—talking about how glad they were that Martin Luther King had been shot! What am I hearing? I wondered, incredulously. What is this? I thought this was a Christian school, and here are these kids talking about how glad they are that Martin Luther King has been shot!

This went on for a while. My first impulse was to rush out and confront them. These kids were sick! Furthermore, I believed that by laughing at Martin Luther King, they were laughing at me, and at all the other millions of black people that Martin Luther King spoke of. But I resisted that. I needed to get control. I felt nauseated. I was hurt, disillusioned, and angry.

Then the report came: “Martin Luther King has died in a Memphis hospital.” A cheer erupted from the group down the hall.

I’m Pessimistic

Glandion Camey, associate director of the missions department of InterVarsity Christian Fellowship.

I am very pessimistic. So much has been written on this topic, but when are we going to come together and not argue the issue and simply do what the Bible says, to do what is right regarding the issue of racial prejudice?

I’m tired of questions about this. I see no outcome, no real dealing with the issues, or doing what has been decided needs to be done. There has been very little fruit from the pledges of racial reconciliation made by evangelical groups, such as the National Association of Evangelicals and other major Christian Carney agencies. These organizations continue to be white in their structure and avoid issues that concern the cities.

Nothing has come from our great words. We seem always to fall short of being able to walk together as brothers and sisters. I am not hopeful, even though I want to be.

No Substitute for Love

Morris E. Jones, Sr., church planter and pastor of Immanuel Evangelical Baptist Church, Indianapolis, Indiana.

I believe many white evangelicals have an intellectual understanding of agape love, but lack heart knowledge of it. There seems to be right theology and the right religious works, but they do not understand that there is no substitute for love. Love must be practiced! Matthew 5:14 says: “You are the light of the world,” referring to believers. White evangelicals have done little or nothing to help America heal the wound of racism. A dying world needs to see this light instead of seeing Christians just doing what is best for their own race.

Sidebar: Models of Reconciliation: Passing on the Power



In 1975, Wayne Gordon moved to Lawndale, a black neighborhood on Chicago’s southwest side. Working as assistant football coach in a nearby public school, Gordon, a white farm boy from Iowa, started a youth group with some of his players. That group eventually grew into Lawndale Community Church, a 500-member, interracial, holistic ministry. Today the church has a medical clinic that serves over 4,000 people a month, a tutoring program that equips high-school students to go to college, a thrift store, and a housing rehab effort that has remodeled 50 apartments for people in the community.

“Leadership development” became one of Gordon’s mottoes. This meant investing in the neighborhood’s youth and developing them into church and community leaders. Several of the church’s African-American staff members came up through his program.

But Gordon was not satisfied. The top position was still in his hands, white hands. It did not matter that community leaders and church members now considered him a Lawndalian after 18 years in the neighborhood. “The history of race created an inescapable perception. ‘This white boy can’t trust a black to run the shop,’ ” says Gordon.

Perception was not the only issue. The church needed a pastor who could say things to the biracial congregation that Gordon, as a white, could not.

Whom could Gordon hire? In a congregation that called him “Coach,” it was going to be difficult to find a leader who could relate to him as a peer. So Gordon went outside the community and asked Carey Casey, a minister for the Fellowship of Christian Athletes, if he would take the pastor’s job while Gordon continued to lead the community outreach programs.

“What is remarkable about what Wayne did,” says African-American leader Elward Ellis, “is that he didn’t just hire any black man. He hired a strong black man. Whites are not known for doing this kind of thing.” Gordon and Casey work hard at their relationship. They meet every morning at 6 A.M. for an hour to pray and to discuss personal and church issues. With their commitment to honesty, the sessions can be intense. Says Casey, “We say things like, ‘You hurt me,’ and, ‘I was embarrassed.’ We ask each other the tough questions.”

Gordon remembers reading 1 Samuel 20 one morning where Jonathan, King Saul’s son, tells his friend and his father’s enemy David, “Whatever you say, I will do for you.” Gordon felt God was using it as an example of what his and Casey’s relationship would look like. “But the way I was reading it, I was David and Carey was Jonathan. Something stopped me in my tracks and convinced me it was the other way around.” Gordon related the incident to Casey, who highlighted the passage in his Bible, which he now leaves open to that verse on his desk. “So whenever Wayne crosses the line and starts doing my job,” Casey explains, “I just point to that Scripture and say, ‘Remember?’”

Using their relationship as a model, Casey and Gordon pair up black and white church members for ministry, using every opportunity for whites and blacks to work together as equals.

Because of Casey’s and Gordon’s relationship, the ministry at Lawndale Community Church has gained much credibility within evangelicalism, especially among African Americans. But to convince the community outside the church walls is more difficult. “After being here a year and a half, some of the black brothers in the

hood

are still wondering what I’m up to running around with a white guy,” says Casey. “The suspicions die hard.”

In the meantime, Gordon’s and Casey’s families have established deep friendships. At any one time the children of one family can be found at the other’s home. This is not lost on the congregation. Says Casey, “People find freedom in our friendship. When they see a white man and a black man being friends, laughing and crying together, they can believe that a healthy relationship with someone from another race is possible.”

Says the six-foot-two Casey of the five-foot-eight Gordon, “I love that short white man.”

Sidebar: Models of Reconciliation: A Bus Ride Beyond the Comfort Zone



The well-dressed bank presidents, CEOs, lawyers, and country-club members gather with their spouses in front of their church’s multimillion-dollar complex in Atlanta’s Buckhead neighborhood. Forty-five members of the all-white, four-thousand-member Second Ponce de Leon Baptist Church are on their way for a trip outside their comfort zones—headed for worship at an all-black congregation in another Atlanta neighborhood, Summerhill.

For nearly all, it will be their first time at an African-American service. As the busload of people with $50,000-a-year-plus incomes tours the neighborhood of people averaging $6,500, Doug Dean, an African-American community organizer, and German Cruz, Ponce de Leon church member and urban planner for Summerhill’s revitalization plan, point out important development efforts. An unlikely coalition has come together in an effort to revitalize the low-income African-American neighborhood. The plan calls for developing a mixed-income community, a new business district, and improved social services. A big part of the effort is focused on racial reconciliation.

This trip is intended as one more step in the Ponce de Leon church’s commitment to the Summerhill plan. Already the church has promised $500,000 over three years and, more important in Cruz’s mind, 600 volunteers. Today, though, the commitments begin to turn into face-to-face encounters.

At the Southwest Christian Fellowship, the common church culture of bulletins, prayers, announcements, and hymns provides some comfort and security in an otherwise cross-cultural experience. The whites begin to flounder, however, as the gospel choir revs up with a rhythm that has the visitors struggling to clap on the offbeat. No matter. The spirit is infectious, and the white churchgoers, known for their straight-as-a-rod singing stance, shed some of their inhibitions.

The whites find their footing again as pastor Richard Barry applies an insightful exegesis to the morning’s biblical passage. Barry, who, like other blacks in the church has recently relocated from the suburbs to the city, is a good choice to preach to a group already being stretched.

When the service is dismissed, a question hangs over everyone: Will people connect over cookies and coffee in Fellowship Hall? Back on the bus, headed back to familiar Buckhead, the answer is a unanimous yes.

“I was surprised at how much we had in common,” says one visitor. “They’re people just like us. They seem to have the same concerns we do, such as wanting their kids to be the best they can be or wanting to learn more about God.”

The bus trip leads to other contacts. For example, six couples from each of the churches meet later in one of the Buckhead homes to share with each other their own personal histories.

While these are encouraging steps, the Summerhill coalition has its sights on even more significant steps—the actual relocation of whites into Summerhill. To this end, they have convinced Second Ponce de Leon and another large white church to set up Equity Relocation Funds, which would provide interest-free mortgages for families to buy homes in Summerhill. And there have been takers. One is a lawyer who would move out of a half-million-dollar home.

Cruz is challenging his peers at Ponce de Leon to re-examine their careers in light of the gospel. “If you’re a banker, change banking practices that are detrimental to the blacks who live in red-lined areas. If you’re a lawyer, speak up on behalf of the voiceless. You cannot separate your talents from your calling as a Christian. We need your talents more that your donations.” After the Summerhill tour, NationsBank, whose president was on the bus, offered down-payment assistance and special mortgage payments to build 22 middle-income homes in Summerhill.

Both Cruz and Dean feel encouraged by people’s responses. “Today’s group made me feel very tender,” Cruz says, in reference to the busload of whites. “I never thought they would be able to cross the bridge. They are beginning to see that to become relevant to the work of God, we have to become relevant to each other.”

Integration Versus Reconciliation

Spencer Perkins, editor-in-chief of Urban Family magazine. He lives in an intentional biracial Christian community in Jackson, Mississippi.

I fear that many whites assume that racial reconciliation is something blacks want from whites. It may surprise most white evangelicals to learn that black Christians are no more interested in working toward racial reconciliation than white Christians. Blacks are interested in eliminating racial injustice, in confronting racism, and in ensuring that the playing field is level, but going out of our way to build the cross-cultural relationships necessary for racial reconciliation does not evoke those same passions.

Whites also should not confuse racial reconciliation with integration. Integration was a political pursuit that could only be taken so far. You can’t make someone accept you as a brother or sister. All you can do legally is make it against the law for them to discriminate against you. Reconciliation, on the other hand, is spiritual and must be approached as such. Somewhere we’ve got this notion that reconciliation is optional—that it is okay for us to witness to the unbelieving world a gospel that is too weak to bridge racial barriers.

The evidence of our love for God is in our love for our neighbor. It then becomes very important to consider the answer that Jesus gave to the question “And who is my neighbor?” He didn’t just say the people of your neighborhood or the people who look like you. He told the story of the Good Samaritan.

In choosing a Samaritan, Jesus was saying that our neighbors are especially those people whom we have the most difficulty loving. It does not take much practical application to determine who Jesus would use as “neighbor” if he were talking to blacks and whites in the U.S.

For centuries, we have announced proudly to the rest of the world that Jesus (and our Christianity) is the answer for the world. Maybe we should add a disclaimer that says, “with the exception of race and culture.”

We Have Nothing to Show the World

Cheryl J. Sanders, associate professor of Christian ethics at Howard University School of Divinity and associate pastor for leadership development, Third Street Church of God, Washington, D.C.

The moral ineffectiveness of the evangelical churches on the issue of race is because many of these churches openly practice discrimination against blacks and women, especially in leadership and in determining ministry priorities. Exempt from the civil rights of the land, American churches have become a stronghold of resistance to the principles of justice and equality rather than the source of it.

We evangelicals must practice what we preach. Otherwise we’re hypocrites. We cannot despise persons who are different while we are trying to minister to them. Further, we do not have a positive Christian witness for racial justice if we have no models, no programs, no examples within our ranks to offer the world. If we were practicing reconciliation, affirmative action, and level playing fields in our churches, it would challenge our society’s dominant racist values and would give Christians something to preach to others.

Racism is a lie, and its structures and effects require the continued cover-up and double talk of some of today’s evangelical leadership.

Calling All Christians

Robin McDonald, executive director of the Capitol Hill Crisis Pregnancy Center, Washington, D.C.

God has called all Christians to the ministry of reconciliation—first, to be reconciled to him, and then to one another. Sadly, few heed the latter half of our calling. Racial reconciliation demands that we stretch ourselves past our comfort zones. Too often these attempts are casually dismissed by the white church, breeding disappointment and mistrust. Unless Christians stand together, our church and our nation will remain divided.

Whites Are Not Taken Seriously

William Pannell, professor of preaching and practical theology at Fuller Theological Seminary, Pasadena, California, and the author of The Coming Race Wars? (Zondervan).

We’re going to have to take some rather courageous and extraordinary steps to avoid a race war. The first step is sincere repentance of racism by white evangelicals. Until something like that happens, I don’t envision black evangelicals taking their white counterparts seriously.

Sidebar: Models of Reconciliation: Fudge Ripple Sundays

The Rock of Our Salvation, an Evangelical Free church, rose from the ashes of Circle Church, a multiracial effort in Chicago that tragically split along racial lines. “I can hardly describe the pain I felt as the dream crumbled,” writes Circle Church member Glen Kehrein in Breaking Down Walls, the book he coauthored with Rock pastor Raleigh Washington. “My greatest loss was that not one personal relationship with a black believer survived.”

In 1974, still smarting from the split, Kehrein met Raleigh Washington, an African-American seminary grad looking to start a church. Kehrein was leading a holistic ministry in Austin, a predominantly African-American neighborhood of Chicago. Slowly a friendship developed. Eventually Kehrein asked Washington to preside over the board of the social ministry; he also decided to join Washington’s new church in the neighborhood.

Racial reconciliation at the Rock was markedly different from Kehrein’s first experience. In explaining Circle’s failure, he writes, “We had theory rather than relationships. Racial reconciliation among Christians requires solid relationships.… But at Circle … everyone was bound to a vision but not to each other.” At the Rock, they emphasize the earlier missing ingredient—committed relationships.

Another important difference, Washington and Kehrein explain, is that the top leader is black. “Whenever there is conflict between a black and a white, regardless of the specifics,” explains Washington, “it always becomes a racial issue.” No matter how right a white might be in a conflictual situation, he explains, the objectivity of whites will always be suspect by nonwhites.

The Rock, now a church of 350–70 percent black, 30 percent white—is thriving. Each group’s culture is celebrated at the service through swaying gospel music and stout Wesleyan hymns. Pastor Washington uses black-only “chocolate” meetings and white-only “vanilla” meetings as forums for each group to express frustration over cultural differences. These, then, are worked through with both groups present at “fudge ripple” meetings.

The intentional efforts have paid off. At the Rock, it is common to see blacks and whites embracing each other in joy and sorrow—with arms around each other in hugs or hands clasped in prayer.

Why Are We a Threat?

Peggy L. Jones, senior pastor of the multiracial Macedonia Assembly of God Church in Saint Paul, Minnesota, and chief executive officer of a consulting firm that conducts training for Fortune 500 businesses and churches wanting to deal with multicultural diversity.

I am African American. I am female. I am bicultural. I was raised Baptist and have been evangelical for the past 16 years. Why did God call me out of a fairly comfortable homogeneous religious environment into a different racial and religious environment? Because he truly is an Ephesians 2:14 God who is tearing down walls of hostility between groups of people.

Sixteen years later my heart still cries out to God. When will my people no longer be seen by white evangelicals as a threat? As less than? When will we be allowed to be equal with you and not oppressed by you? It is expected that the secular world continues to oppress, but not the body of Christ.

Didn’t Jesus come to set the captives free? Isn’t the evangelical heritage one of social reform and speaking out against injustices as well as leading lost souls to Christ? Where are the Jonathan Blanchards today? the Charles Finneys? the Theodore Welds? the Antoinette Browns and Amanda Smiths? the Catherine and William Booths? These were men and women who could not idly sit by when black Americans were being treated unjustly. When did the heartbeat of many white evangelicals change?

We Will Be Held Accountable

Tony Evans, senior pastor of Oak Cliff Bible Fellowship in Dallas, Texas, and founder of the Urban Alternative. His daily radio program is heard on 245 stations nationwide. He is the author of many books, including Are Blacks Spiritually Inferior to Whites? (Renaissance).

Unity is very expensive. Just as a husband and wife must give up a lot to gain the oneness that marriage offers, so also must races be willing to pay the price to experience biblical unity. One of the losses both sides must be willing to experience is the rejection of friends and relatives, whether Christians or non-Christians, who are not willing to accept the thesis that spiritual family relationships transcend physical, cultural, and racial relationships. This is what Jesus meant when he said, “Whoever does the will of my Father who is in heaven, he is my brother and sister and mother” (Matt. 12:50).

The cost is particularly expensive to local churches who begin opening their doors to people who are viewed by many as socially unacceptable, even though they have been made acceptable to the Father by the blood of Christ.

There must be the willingness to hold people accountable for refusing to cooperate with the bridge-building efforts of the church. Racism cannot be allowed to fester without public and personal condemnation. It should be clear what the church will and will not allow. What should not be allowed is the subjection of brothers and sisters who are different to racial slurs and public rejection in the church. There is no more time for us to sit by and wait for people to change. People must be led into change, and that cannot be done without the knowledge that we will be held accountable for how we treat the other members of God’s family.

Only if all sides are willing to take this stand will the effort be worth the risk. For one side to pay the price without equal commitment from the other is to create only more mistrust and division. However, when both sides take a strong biblical stand, the support systems will be there to withstand the opposition that will naturally come from taking a stand for righteousness.

Sidebar: What Can We Do?

How can we play a part in racial reconciliation?

Two recent books by biracial writing teams give practical suggestions. In More Than Equals: Racial Healing for the Sake of the Gospel, by Spencer Perkins and Chris Rice (InterVarsity), and Breaking Down Walls: A Model for Reconciliation in an Age of Racial Strife, by Raleigh Washington and Glen Kehrein (Moody), the authors draw from over one hundred years of combined experience in developing black and white reconciled church communities.

Perkins and Rice communicate their model in three words: admit, submit, and commit. By admit, they mean that “both white and black Christians must admit that a separation exists, that our relationship is uneasy and that it misrepresents what God intended for his people.” This entails, among other things, getting acquainted with the history of race relations in our country and in the church, reading the works of African Americans such as Martin Luther King and Malcolm X, and learning about the significant contributions of blacks to this nation.

By submit, they mean “we must hand ourselves over to God, falling on our faces before him for help, recognizing that we can’t be healed apart from him. And we must submit to one another, black and white, by building loving relationships across racial barriers.”

And by commit, they mean “deep and lasting reconciliation will be realized only as we commit ourselves to an intentional lifestyle of loving our racially different neighbors as ourselves.” The process, they explain, requires intentionality on both sides, a commitment not unlike that between marriage partners to work differences out regardless of the cost, for better or for worse.

Good intentions and a few prayer meetings will not be enough. It means deliberately establishing relationships with those from a different culture, which often means going on their turf. And when friction arises, it means sticking it out and working through the issues. Writes Chris Rice, who is white, “Whites often ask me, ‘How do I know when I’m really dealing with the race issue?’ I tell them, ‘When you begin to feel uncomfortable.’”

Washington and Kehrein make similar points. Some of their practical suggestions for predominantly white churches include establishing a “sister church” relationship with an ethnically different congregation, recruiting ethnic church leadership, and changing worship and music to include several cultural styles. They also suggest individuals invite someone who is racially different to their homes, or visit an ethnically different church at least four times a year.

All four authors are motivated by a gospel imperative. They acknowledge there is not much worldly incentive to take the risks required for reconciliation. But they argue the gospel does not leave the Christian with a choice.

After quoting 2 Corinthians 5:16–21, which in part says, “He has committed to us the work of reconciliation. Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were entreating through us,” Washington and Kehrein write, “the Word of God is not just saying that reconciliation is a good idea. Rather, Paul informs us that the ministry of reconciliation is a mandatory part of every Christian’s daily living.”

Both books communicate that the church really is the only agent that has a chance to succeed at reconciliation. Writes Rice: “The gulf between black and white can be crossed only on a bridge built by the hands of God.”

Greatest Thing Whites Can Do

Edith Jones, city director of CityLine, a ministry of World Vision in Washington, D.C.

The greatest thing whites can do is ask, “What can I do?” This bestows honor and respect on us as fruitful and accomplished people. Let us tell you. Come as humble servants. One of the greatest hurts within our community is seeing caring whites come in and write about us rather than letting us tell who we are. This is usurping and castrating.

Qualified Minorities

Billy Ingram, senior pastor of Maranatha Community Church and founder and leader of the Southern California Coalition of Religious Leaders, a multiracial organization dedicated to pursuing racial reconciliation in the greater Los Angeles area.

It is an insult when whites say they would like to hire a minority person but don’t know of anyone who is qualified. Within the black community there are plenty of talented, skilled, and educated people. We have great expositors, professionals, and leaders. The problem is that whites have not networked with minorities. They have not gotten to know us. You learn more about a person sitting around a table eating their food than by watching the media.

Black Rage

Spencer Perkins is coauthor with Chris Rice of More Than Equals: Racial Healing for the Sake of the Gospel (InterVarsity), from which this has been adapted.

Most black people are angry—angry about our violent history, angry for the hassle that it is to grow up black in America, angry that we can never assume that we won’t be prejudged by our color, angry that we will carry this stigma everywhere we go (it is hardly ever a positive asset), angry that black always seems to get the short end of the stick. And most of all, angry that white America doesn’t understand the reasons for our anger.

This anger can be a very destructive force, as proved by the rioting in South Central Los Angeles after the police who beat Rodney King were acquitted. Backed up against the wall, most blacks will concede that the violence and looting were wrong. But deep in the recesses of most black minds was a tiny voice whispering, If this is the only way we can make them understand how we feel, then so be it.

As I sat in church the Sunday after the riots, a black friend passed me a note that read, “I’m kinda glad they are rioting in L.A.” My friend would never have made this statement in public.

Regardless of what you think about anger, it is present in nearly all American blacks—even in Christians like me—and must be reckoned with. If blacks and whites are to achieve long-term, intimate relationships, blacks must learn to channel their anger and reserve it to fight injustice rather than directing it at [those] whites who are sincerely trying to reach out. Whites, on the other hand, need not make it their mission to convince blacks that there is no justifiable reason for their anger. Instead, whites must seek to understand the reasons behind this anger and then learn not to fear it.

Black anger must be defused with sincere love, not negotiated like a minefield. And since the intended target of black anger is white arrogance and apathy, one of the best first steps toward healing is to build meaningful, nonpatronizing peer relationships with the targets of our anger—white brothers and sisters. It is easy to remain angry with a faceless white race. It is much harder to direct that anger at a particular white brother or sister who has a name and a face.

Learn from Us

Tony Warner, Georgia area director for InterVarsity Christian Fellowship.

The problem is simple. For the most part, white leadership has not been able to overcome the twin evils of dominance and arrogance that have historically marred hopes for biblical relationships across racial lines. For example, whites want blacks to come to their churches or organizations and learn from them, but there is very little inclination for whites to learn from African Americans in a significant way.

Only when whites are prepared to repent of dominance and arrogance in racial matters can a constructive start be made. While I do not limit the power of God, nothing in the track record gives me hope that this will happen on a broad basis. White evangelicals are more willing to pursue a white conservative political agenda than to be reconciled with their African-American brothers and sisters. It raises a fundamental question of their belief and commitment to the biblical gospel.

We Need Each Other

Samuel G. Hines, senior pastor of Third Street Church of God, Washington, D.C.

We need each other. Because of the interdependence of community, we all hold the key to other people’s freedom. White people can’t free themselves of their guilt, fears, and prejudices. Black people can’t free themselves of the oppression and injustices that have been meted out to them for generations. Racial divisions are robbing both sides. Whites not only have to be willing to help, but to be helped by the insights of a suffering people.

Whites can’t help until they have heard the cry of blacks. We’ve got to work with the anger that blacks feel, not around it. It is the church’s responsibility to take culture, race, and ethnicity seriously and teach people to appreciate differences rather than let them scare us. As we do this we’ll understand why the anger is there. And this builds trust.

Black Christians Love the Bible

J. Deotis Roberts, distinguished professor of philosophical theology at Eastern Baptist Seminary, Philadelphia, and president of the American Theological Society.

The word evangelical is a turnoff for most African-American Christians. In this country, it usually refers to a one-dimensional view of Christianity—a spiritual, privatized, vertical view. The term usually carries with it the idea that race relations are expected to be based on a sentimental love without real consideration for social justice.

Black Christians love the Bible, but it is their interpretation that differs from white evangelicals. African Americans know the Bible as a means of oppression as well as a source of liberation. We cannot assume that all Christians get the same message from reading the Bible. Only a liberating, holistic view of Scripture has an appeal for African-American Christians. There can be no genuine reconcilation without liberation and social transformation.

Racism and the Evangelical Church

Billy Graham is an evangelist.

Racial and ethnic hostility is the foremost social problem facing our world today. From the systematic horror of “ethnic cleansing” in Bosnia to the random violence ravaging our inner cities, our world seems caught up in a tidal wave of racial and ethnic tension. This hostility threatens the very foundations of modern society.

We must not underestimate the devastating effects of racism on our world. Daily headlines chronicle its grim toll: divided nations and families, devastating wars and human suffering on an unimaginable scale, a constant downward spiral of poverty and hopelessness, children cruelly broken in body and warped in heart and mind. The list is long, but for the sensitive Christian, it is even longer: whole peoples poisoned by violence and racial hatred and closed to the gospel as a result; indifference and resistance by Christians who are intolerant toward those of other backgrounds, ignoring their spiritual and physical needs.

Racism—in the world and in the church—is one of the greatest barriers to world evangelization.

Racial and ethnic hatred is a sin, and we need to label it as such. Jesus told his disciples to “love your neighbor as yourself” (Matt. 22:39); and in reply to the question “Who is my neighbor?” he responded with a pointed parable about a good Samaritan, a member of a despised race (Luke 10:25–37).

Racism is a sin precisely because it keeps us from obeying God’s command to love our neighbor, and because it has its roots in pride and arrogance. Christians who harbor racism in their attitudes or actions are not following their Lord at this point, for Christ came to bring reconciliation—reconciliation between us and God, and reconciliation between each other. He came to accept us as we are, whoever we are, “from every tribe and language and people and nation” (Rev. 5:9).

Tragically, too often in the past evangelical Christians have turned a blind eye to racism or have been willing to stand aside while others take the lead in racial reconciliation, saying it was not our responsibility. (I admit I share in that blame.) As a result, many efforts toward reconciliation in America have lacked a Christian foundation and may not outlive the immediate circumstances that brought them into existence. Our consciences should be stirred to repentance by how far we have fallen short of what God asks us to be as his agents of reconciliation.

Racism is not only a social problem, therefore; because racism is a sin, it is also a moral and spiritual issue. Legal and social efforts to obliterate racism (or at least curb its more onerous effects) have a legitimate place. However, only the supernatural love of God can change our hearts in a lasting way and replace hatred and indifference with love and active compassion.

No other force exists besides the church that can bring people together week after week and deal with their deepest hurts and suspicions. Of all people, Christians should be the most active in reaching out to those of other races, instead of accepting the status quo of division and animosity.

The issues that face us are complex and enormous, and simply wishing they would go away will not solve them. I do not pretend to know the full answer. But let those of us who claim the name of Christ repent of our past failures and, relying on the Holy Spirit, demonstrate to a weary and frightened world that Christ indeed “has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility … through the cross, by which he put to death their hostility” (Eph. 2:14–15).

Ideas

Sloth, Avarice, and MTV

Sloth, Avarice, And Mtv

Both MTV and the New York Times have rediscovered sin. The problem is that we’re not too sure they disapprove of it.

Sin we have always with us, but talking about it, dissecting it, and labeling its parts have not in recent memory been acceptable in polite company—until this summer, when MTV and the New York Times Book Review took up the topic. When these polar opposites on the landscape of postmodern American culture devote their resources to the same topic, we know that something other than the Zeitgeist has been brooding over the cultural waters.

On MTV, Queen Latifah remarked, “Pride is a sin? I wasn’t aware of that,” while fellow rapper Ice-T commented, “One of the main problems [is] kids have no pride.”

“There would be no point to sin if it were not the corridor of pleasure,” author Mary Gordon wrote in the Times about anger. The allure of sin resides in its promise to deliver the object of one’s desire. But sin’s reach always exceeds its grasp. As rock star Ozzy Osbourne said on the MTV special, as soon as he became a millionaire, he wanted to become a “double millionaire”; envy and avarice are self-defeating in the end.

Perhaps it was sin s insatiable character that inspired Harper’s magazine several years ago to turn to advertising as a medium for reflecting on sin. Seven ad agencies developed advertisements for the Seven Deadly Sins. The results included such gems as: “Pride: the sin you can feel good about.” And, “Lust: Where would we be without it?”

Sin—in moderation

The idea that sin exists, that certain acts are inherently evil and offensive, is one of our most ancient and pervasive religious concepts. Tragically, our society’s reluctance to label anything as wrong, bad, or evil has resulted in young adults who lack the mental categories to think ethically. Guilt has been reduced to negative energy, and sensitivity toward dolphins now outranks concern for the sanctity of human life.

Thus we are reluctant to call sin sin. We much prefer talking about crime, terrorism, fraud, or malfeasance. These are not mere euphemisms for sin. Our culture now affirms sinful dispositions, while condemning their outward manifestations. No wonder the teenagers of the points-for-sex Spur Posse were confused. Greed is touted as good (at least for the economy), but insider trading is bad. Lust is preached as healthy, but the mere accusation of sexual harassment can threaten the career of a Supreme Court nominee.

This cultural ambivalence toward sin stems from misunderstanding what sin is and what sin does to us. Fortunately, MTV openly acknowledged that sin can have dire consequences for both the self and others. However, because the inward character of sin is not understood, people seek not to avoid sin, but to counteract its effects through condoms and entitlement programs. In our low-fat, low-conscience culture, Sin-Lite has found shelf space alongside other low-guilt pleasures. “A little lust, pride, sloth and gluttony—in moderation—are fun, and that’s what keeps your heart beating,” says one MTV commentator.

These diversionary ways of talking about sin deny the transcendent reality of sin. People sin against God, against their neighbors, and against themselves. If we deny the divine dimension of the sin problem, it is easier to downplay the importance of the neighbor and the self. But God cares passionately for his creation, and we are not free even to sin against ourselves.

Individual sins can, to some degree, be controlled with disciplined effort. But our depravity can only be healed through God’s redemptive action. Both MTV and the Times in the end are content to leave us in our sins and the uncertain hope of earthly forgiveness. Yet the hope and good news of the gospel are all about divine forgiveness and the promise of eternal life.

To MTV’s credit, they included the following statement of a young woman born after the baby boom: “The Twelve Steps are God’s gift to the twenty-first century,” she says, because human beings “didn’t get it” with Moses or Jesus. She’s right—the recovery movement has become a rare context for confronting personal evil, while acknowledging dependence on a “higher power” and the value of searching personal inventories and making amends with those who have been harmed.

Yet, as powerful as the Twelve Steps have been in helping individuals at least confront their sin sickness, we have as a culture been unable to confront our corporate responsibility: an economy of greed, a fashion industry built on lust, an entertainment industry geared to violence. Structural sins that produce racism, chronic poverty, homelessness, classism, and sexism seem far more powerful than our growing list of regulations designed to control them.

If we truly understood sin’s nature, we would corporately confess and throw ourselves on the mercy of God. How bleak it is for MTV and the Times to acknowledge sin but ignore the possibility of salvation. Perhaps they should set out next to explore redemption. Across the centuries, Christians assert, God foresaw sin and provided a way of grace from the foundation of the world: through faith in Jesus Christ.

The final segment of the MTV special profiled a young man convicted of assaulting and murdering a homosexual in a random act of gay-bashing. The remorseful youth wonders aloud whether he has committed an unforgiveable offense. A prison chaplain, he says, has counseled him that one day he will experience God’s forgiveness. Because he knows his sin, he may indeed.

By Timothy C. Morgan.

Peace In Palestine?

For many years it has been to the advantage of both the Palestine Liberation Organization and the Israeli government to perpetuate tensions in the Middle East. The PLO and other Arab governments have been able to point to the plight of displaced Palestinians as evidence of Israeli repression in order to foster Arab unity against the mighty midget, Israel, and to beg alms and arms from the Soviet Union. Israel, in turn, has been able to point to the PLO and yet more radical terrorist groups to solidify its own political base and to elicit arms, dollars, and sympathy from the West.

But now continued conflict no longer promises a payback, and Israeli and PLO leaders are eager for a settlement. The Gulf War has strained the bonds of Arab unity, PLO loyalty among Palestinians is weakened, Israel’s leadership is suffering from intifada fatigue and considers the Gaza an administrative nightmare, and the Soviet Union is no more. It is time for a new Middle East.

If all has gone according to plan between the writing of this editorial and the printing of this magazine, those leaders will have signed a declaration of principles putting in place the beginnings of Palestinian self-rule. But the plans are at present sketchy. Neither group of leaders wants to be too specific about tough issues, particularly control of East Jerusalem (which includes key holy sites), for fear of alienating fragile support.

Christians should pray for those who have yet to settle those issues. The following principles can guide those prayers for a lasting peace:

• Pray for clearly defined territorial responsibility and respect for territorial integrity. This is a principle that has been followed historically in the Middle East. Witness how, on a small scale, it has worked in Jerusalem’s Old City (with its Muslim, Christian, Jewish, and Armenian Quarters), and even in sacred sites like the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (in which various Christian churches have their own few square feet in which to worship). In these places, each religious or ethnic group has had its precious piece of turf, and although tensions persisted, peace reigned. The same culturally sanctioned pattern should be followed in the future.

• Ask God for justice for displaced Palestinian families. This will require compromise on the part of the negotiators. Many houses and tracts of land from which Palestinians were expelled in 1948 cannot be realistically restored. They have been occupied by other, Jewish, families for over 40 years. Absolute fairness is impossible. But generosity in this situation requires the watching world, both the West and Arab nations, to become the helping world: to finance acceptable housing, schools, and hospitals in order to foster an adequate standard of living. Continued unemployment and poverty will only contribute to further instability in the region.

• Pray for Israeli security. The multiple wars of aggression Israel has suffered during its four-and-one-half decades means that country has a justifiably edgy populace. Unfortunately, that edginess has resulted in human-rights violations and the creation of a population of refugees. Now, however, optimism is dominant. Rumors of plans to return the strategic Golan Heights to Syrian control shortly after the implementation of Palestinian self-rule signal high expectations in Israel’s Labor party leadership. Clearly, Israel is expecting less hostility from its neighbors under the new Middle East order. Pray that their optimism is well-founded.

• Remember Palestinian Christians, most of whom are Orthodox or Anglican. Thank God for this easing of tensions. Until recently, the repression has lent an appeal to radical Islamic groups, which have been expanding rapidly. Christians who have worked for nonviolent change, following the teachings of the Sermon on the Mount, have been subjected to increasing scorn. Now, it seems, God has worked in his own mysteriously slow way to bring about this miracle. Pray that Christians will be able to take appropriate leadership roles and strengthen the new atmosphere of peace and hope.

By David Neff

Tillie, the Texas Tornado

According to the National Weather Service, there is no record of a tornado named Tillie. The meteorologists obviously have never been to Arlington, Texas. Since 1986, there have been daily sightings around Arlington of a whirlwind of ministry, led by Tillie Burgin, former schoolteacher and Korean missionary. What she is doing for her hometown, as an insurance agent might put it, is an act of God.

Tillie leads Mission Arlington, which provides food, clothing, medical care, and the good news about Jesus to needy people across the sprawling city. Headquartered in a former drive-up bank, she and her 600 volunteers reach out to the city’s be neighborhoods containing thousands of people who probably would never enter a traditional church.

A smelly start

The mission got started when Tillie and her husband were forced to return home to Arlington from Korea due to family illness. First Baptist Church put her to work as minister of home missions.

But, she recalls, her first day on the job “was the loneliest and longest Friday of my life, in a closetlike office, wondering what church staff people did all day.”

Late in the afternoon, the custodian stopped by with a piece of paper. “There’s nobody else here,” he said to Tillie, “and this person says she needs help. Here’s her name and address.” it was a part of town that Tillie had never ventured into before. But climbing the steps of the run-down apartment building deeply touched the heart of this Texan.

Tillie knocked on the door. A woman answered, and before Tillie could greet her, the woman said: “I need my electricity paid.” Replied Tillie, “I’ll get back to you.”

Halfway back to First Baptist, Tillie realized she had not even invited the woman to church. Then, even worse, she suddenly realized that this woman probably would not fit in at all if she did come. So she decided to try an invitation to a more casual, Sunday-night service.

With confidence building, Tillie made a second trip back up the stairs. The woman was gone, but her 20-year-old son, Ken, answered the door. “Would you go to church with me on Sunday night?” Tillie blurted.

“Yeah.”

“You will?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll come get you at 6:45.”

Two nights later, Tillie found Ken waiting “with big cowboy hat, big boots, holes in his jeans, and smelling bad,” but with genuine excitement about going to church. So Tillie rolled down the windows, and off they drove.

“It was clear to me no one wanted to sit by us, so I found a place in the back. Before I knew it, Ken was responding to an evangelistic message and was walking to the front.”

Needed: A new language

Ken sought Tillie’s help to start his own Bible study. Now, more than 140 Bible-study groups later, the Bible-study network keeps growing.

They have met in motels, apartments, and shelters for battered women and the homeless. Until recently, the “Westwood Village Church” met in the clubhouse area of the Westwood Apartments. This summer the fast-growing congregation moved into the main ministry’s warehouse.

In the front room of another apartment in a different part of Arlington, four Hispanic adults with Bibles open get comfortable on sagging couches. A Mission Arlington volunteer herds ten children into another room for their Sunday-school lesson.

A larger group meets regularly at the Peach Street Community Church next to a sports bar. On Sunday mornings, the bright and spacious Christian store-front area sees all the action.

As Tillie explains, most of the people involved with these groups are survivors of the same inner-city conditions. “When we say ‘testimony’ to these folks, most of them think we’re going to court. We have to learn a new language.”

Always willing to find new sources of volunteers, Tillie is beefing up her volunteer staff with 200 prisoners on probation or parole. They can count the hours given to Mission Arlington as community service. The police laud Tillie’s efforts most of the time.

“I did report our van stolen one day,” she says. “One of our paroled volunteers had taken off with it.” The policeman gently chided her for reporting a van stolen when she gave the person the keys. But that’s how much trust Tillie puts in her workers. A quick prayer and a few tips later, her group found the missing vehicle before the police did.

Signs of Life

The OK Motel in Arlington is not listed in tourist books. Most people want to check out of the weary, ranch-style building rather than check in. Yet, there are signs of life. Children’s voices, singing loudly, are coming from a small, shedlike structure. The service is under way at the OK Chapel.

Following a guitar’s lead, a crowd of mostly children becomes more animated with each gospel chorus. A painted mural, a heavenly scene with Jesus, a dove, and three crosses, covers one wall.

“This used to be a place where transients had nothing to look forward to except the stench of poverty,” Tillie says. “Now, not only do we have our separate chapel, but most of these people have turned their lives around because they met Jesus. They’ve gotten off food stamps; they’ve gotten jobs.”

Police records show that where one of Tillies Bible studies moves in, crime moves out. That is dramatically demonstrated at the Kensington Motor Lodge. The tan buildings are expressionless, like the OK Motel. Everyone knows that the surrounding area has a reputation for street crime. It was not a place John Dowdy, a lawyer, really wanted to spend time every week.

“She twisted my arm,” Dowdy says. Now you couldn’t keep Dowdy away as he shares the faith in an apartment overlooking the cracked, waterless swimming pool. “It’s hard to believe that I’m doing this. I had offered to do free legal work for Tillie, not realizing how involved I was going to get.”

Back at mission central in downtown Arlington, there are jobs for all volunteers: clothes need to be sorted; the health clinic is looking for helping hands; the dental clinic cannot keep up with all the patients; the counseling center is keeping 60 therapists busy; stacks of bread and fruit pies must be replenished in the food pantry. With all the work, one would think discouragement would slow them down.

“We don’t have time to be discouraged,” says Tillie. “God energizes us.” The founder of Mission Arlington hopes to establish 3,000 individual Bible-study groups if she can. And despite several civic citations and honors displayed on her office wall, Tillie considers herself an ordinary person who prayed for God to let her love people.

But realistically, how ordinary can a tornado be?

By Bonne Steffen, editor of THE CHRISTIAN READER.

The Whale and the Elephant

Tweedledum and Tweedledee / resolved to have a battle; / for Tweedledum said Tweedledee / had spoiled his nice new rattle.

This nursery rhyme scores nursery behavior; but adults can behave that way, too.

Karl Barth and Emil Brunner, the two Swiss giants of neo-orthodoxy, maintained a Tweedledum-Tweedledee toward each other for 30 years following their row over whether granting the validity of natural theology undermined the view they had developed together. When finally they met again, near the end of their lives, their conversation dragged, and Barth said he and Brunner were like the whale and the elephant: two biggies, neither of whom could conceive how the other could exist.

In my youth, England’s two most outstanding evangelicals were Martyn Lloyd-Jones, stellar preacher in central London, and Frederick Fyvie Bruce, head of biblical studies in the University of Sheffield, first, and then at Manchester. They were great and good men, and it was a privilege to know them. They too, however, had something of a whale-and-elephant, Tweedledum-Tweedledee relationship. Both were Celts (one Welsh, one Scottish), and both were Calvinists of sorts, so you might have expected them to behave like blood brothers. But “the Doctor,” theological preacher extraordinary, was a Luther, a tireless exponent of God’s grace in Christ justifying sinners through faith and renewing them by the Spirit, while “F. F.,” historian and man of letters, was an Erasmus, an impeccable scholar committed to the advancement of learning and to the study of Scripture within that frame. They were not on the same wavelength and could not work together at all well.

Each of them was, rightly, sure of the importance of what he was doing. Almost single-handed, Bruce was becoming midwife to a revival of evangelical biblical scholarship; almost single-handed, Lloyd-Jones was pioneering a renewal of experiential exposition in the power of the Spirit. Both projects were necessary: God’s church needs both believing scholarship and powerful preaching. But to Lloyd-Jones, Bruce seemed not to be serious about theological truth, while to Bruce, Lloyd-Jones’s antithetical definiteness seemed to set restrictions on academic endeavor. Certainly Lloyd-Jones, though a magnificent preacher of the Word of God, was not a scholar in Bruce’s sense, and Bruce, though a superb commentator on Scripture, was not a preacher in Lloyd-Jones’s sense.

One can see why they found it hard to tune in to each other. But it was a pity they did, since both were such precious gifts to the modern church. I appreciated them both and wish they could have appreciated each other more.

I have heard admirers of each disparage the other as if loyalty to their hero required this of them, and the experience has left me distressed. Such negativism is childish and carnal. The way to view other Christians—preachers, pastors, academics, colleagues, parents, spouses, children, or whoever—is to focus on what by God’s grace they are and have, rather than to dwell constantly on what they are not and do not have. Christian elephants and whales may mystify each other, but the rest of us can and should rejoice in the reality of both. God likes variety; cloning is not his way. In the order both of creation and of redemption, different people receive from him different abilities, and with them, different personal priorities. We should enlarge our minds and stretch our sympathies to a positive valuation of every gift and mode of wisdom that our Lord has put in his church, and we should tell ourselves firmly that narrowing our focus here, even when it is zeal for our ministry that leads us to do so, is not a virtue, but a weakness tending to become a vice.

Among the apostles, Paul, the Jerusalem-trained rabbi, and John, the Galilean fisherman, were surely the archetypal whale and elephant, for the spiritual stature of both was enormous while their culture, cast of mind, and emphases in exposition were very different. If they were required to appreciate and affirm each other, no latter-day whale or elephant has any right to criticize (say) women for not being more like men, or Britons for not being more like Americans, or academics for not being more like preachers and vice versa, or Calvinists for not being more like charismatics—need I go on? May the grace of mutual appreciation grow and flourish in today’s church.

Letters to the Editor

Understanding God as Father

I agree completely with the conclusions that Elizabeth Achtemeier reaches in her article “Why God Is Not Mother” [Aug. 16], but not with the route she travels to get there. She argues that “if the creation has issued forth from the body of the deity [as some feminist theologians argue], it shares in the deity’s substance.… Therefore everything is divine.”

Non sequitur! Arguing this way, Achtemeier is going to “prove” the very thing she wants to disprove. Not knowing about the biological union of sperm with ovum, our ancient forebears thought a mother merely provided the incubator in which the father’s seed was gestated. Hence, in Jesus’ geneology in Matthew 1, it is only the fathers who do the begetting. Achtemeier’s specious line of reasoning would point to the concept of God as Father [rather than Mother] as promoting a view in which God is identified with his creation.

We had best leave the reason why God is Father instead of Mother in the sovereign mind of God who so chose to reveal himself, rather than try to conceive of humanly devised reasons why he did so.

Rev. Burrell Pennings

Zeeland, Mich.

One point seldom mentioned when discussing this issue is the Bible’s description of the church. The same writers who described God in masculine terms, described the church in a feminine term, that is, the bride of Christ. It is interesting how these so-called sexist writers chose to identify themselves (and every Christian man) with a clearly feminine term.

Craig A. Clark

Minneapolis, Minn.

Hinn’s “medicine”

Thank you for keeping the Christian public informed on Benny Hinn [News, Aug. 16]. Benny is so crass that he claimed in Philadelphia (a meeting I attended and taped in Feb. 1993) that if you bought and read his book on healing you would be healed by reading it! For $15.99 you could buy a miracle. He needs to “repent” of practicing medicine without a license.

Rev. G. R. Fisher

Laurelton Park Baptist Church

Bricktown, NJ.

Unbiblical “demand feeding”?

Regarding Gary and Anne Marie Ezzos’ Preparation for Parenting [Aug. 16]: So what’s unbiblical about the “primitive” system of “demand” feeding for infants? In all likelihood, Abraham’s, Moses’, and Jesus’ mothers used this system. A newborn can’t possibly understand law and discipline but can respond to God’s love and care, modeled by parents who are attentive to their child’s need for food and comfort.

Paula F. Cardoza

Speedway, Ind.

Did Satan cause Cowper’s mania?

Virginia Stem Owens lists possible causes of William Cowper’s suicidal depression in her great article “The Dark Side of Grace” [July 19]. One more should be added to the list: satanic attack. Known as “the father of lies” and “the accuser of the brethren,” Satan could certainly have been the originator of Cowper’s mania and melancholia, attempting to prevent him from writing hymns that would endure in successive generations.

Cowper endured the worst kind of spiritual warfare. In some traditions he would have been exorcised in the name of Jesus.

Marilyn Fanning

Lynchburg, Va.

I take exception to Owens’s characterization of Cowper as heretical because of his claim to be a “special case to which scriptural assurances could not apply.” Admittedly, this was “bad theology”; but to say that this was a “perverse will” I think is most unfair.

Only one who has passed through the horror of a deep depression can appreciate the bizarre conclusions reached by those in such a state—even dedicated Christians. Cowper’s attempts at suicide failed. Tragically, however, other depressed believers have succeeded in their self-destruction, mistakenly thinking God had abandoned them or that they were beyond hope. I can’t believe Owens would label these sick individuals perverse or heretical.

Pastor Charles F. Kiloski

First Baptist Church

Altoona, Pa.

The Jurassic Church Comes Of Age?

The Jurassic Park craze has given our pastor some new ideas on how to boost church attendance. He wants to display our own living dinosaurs in prominent places for public viewing. His plan won’t involve genetically engineered prehistoric animals. No messy gene splicing or complicated dinosaur DNA cloning here. He’s talking about our church board.

“We’re turning our seeker services into seeker safaris!” he says. “It will be just like the fictionalized theme park.”

I suggested to our pastor that he include himself as the original “thunder lizard.” I thought he’d be a great tyrannosaurus rector. The list of displays is impressive p nonetheless.

The announcer will say, “Welcome to Jurassic Church. You are now entering the lost world of the prehistoric past. Our tour begins in the church library. Here we notice two rare species. First, the board member always pushing for more exegetical sermons from the Old Testament, the bron-Torah-saurus. Next to him you can see this creature’s rival, the board member who likes lighter sermons, the triceratopical.

“On your right you can see the board member who loves to study the end times, velocirapture.

“Next, we proceed to the church kitchen. Here we find a board member who loves grazing at potlucks, socials, and outdoor picnics, the barbequesaurus.”

It is doubtful whether our pastor will be able to sell this attendance-boosting concept to the board. What church board would like to be considered cold-blooded?

The question is asked, “How could William Cowper write hymns extolling the goodness of God while on the edge of suicide?” Apparently he was able to cling to the objective truth of God apart from his devastating “feelings.” Elizabeth Barrett Browning has given us insight into this enigma in her masterful poem “Cowper’s Grave”:

O poets, from a maniac’s tongue was poured the deathless singing!

O Christians, at your cross of hope a hopeless hand was clinging!

O men, this man in brotherhood your weary paths beguiling,

Groaned inly while he taught you peace, and died while ye were smiling! (v. 2)

I thought of The Wounded Healer, the biography of J. B. Phillips written by his widow and close friend. It reveals “the private turmoil that Phillips endured, even while he was guiding others through the dark places of doubt and loss of faith.” It is gratifying to realize that both Cowper and Phillips are in glory, fully aware that their being there didn’t depend one iota on themselves!

Mrs. Robert W. Teague

York, Pa.

U.S. not marching to Zion

Hurray for Philip Yancey’s column “Why Clinton Is Not Antichrist” [Aug. 16]. With all of the confusion over pluralism in America, Yancey touches an important point. The promises made to Israel (especially the one concerning the land and blessing in 2 Chron.) is not extended to believers here, today. America is not the New Israel. As a nation, we are not marching to Zion. The future of the church is much more glorious. Until then, the challenge is, as Yancey states, to strive to be Christ’s church in an increasingly hostile world.

Terry Tolleson

Independence, Kan.

Trendy anti-intellectualism

The same issue that reviewed David Wells’s prophetic No Place for Truth [Books, July 19] also supplied a sad confirmation of his thesis regarding the trendy anti-intellectualism of much of evangelicalism: We read of Thomas Nelson’s comic-book series, of which Pilgrim’s Progress is the first. Instead of dumbing down and selling out in comic-book form, what about promoting the reading—that vanishing intellectual art—of Christian classics like Pilgrim’s Progress? Are we incorrigibly helpless before a page of written words?

Doug Groothuis

Denver Seminary

Denver, Colo.

The inability to receive critique will contribute to evangelicalism’s demise. Wells’s analyses of CT and LEADERSHIP should jolt their editors from slumber. Theology is food for the soul, not the self, and evangelicals are starving to death. Please feed us.

Jana Brazeal

Arnold, Mo.

God’s loving design for humans

Many thanks to Stanton L. Jones for placing the issue of homosexuality in the larger context of biblical truth [“The Loving Opposition,” July 19]. I have found it antagonizing and unprofitable to discuss homosexuality on the basis of arbitrary scriptural commands alone. Taking in the greater perspective of divine grace and God’s purposes for human sexuality lowers defenses and allows a glimpse of our Father’s loving design for mankind. How much more winsome and convincing that is to those sinking in the morass of acute sexual crisis.

Pastor Melvin Johnson

Glad Tidings Temple

San Francisco, Calif.

Jones’s statement that “evidence suggests that genetic factors, possibly operative through brain differences, may give some push in the direction of homosexual preference” overinterprets the findings of two studies that have made national media headlines in recent months.

First, these two studies have not been verified. Second, no human behavior ever has been totally linked to a genetic trait or gene. Third, twin studies have shown that the occurrence of homosexuality in identical twins is only about 50 percent. Fourth, even if science someday verifies that homosexuals are hereditarily predisposed in their sexual desires, it is important to remember that sexual desires are powerful, but not uncontrollable, determinants of behavior.

Larry and Joyce Armstrong

Chaplin, Conn.

What gives Jones the right to pick and choose among the Bible’s clear commands? Leviticus not only calls homosexual acts an abomination but also condemns the wearing of blended fabrics, not to mention the well-known list of non-Kosher foods. Only seven verses form the explanation of sex causing a married couple to become “one flesh,” on which Jones bases his ethical system; Ephesians endorses slavery. Perhaps Jones is closer than he thinks to the gay Christians and their “misrepresentation” of the Bible.

Bert Thompson

Chicago, Ill.

Jones wrote in his opening paragraph that when he thinks of homosexuals, he thinks of a friend who seduces teenage boys. By so doing, he lent credence to an ugly and untrue stereotype and fanned the flames of homophobia. Jones knows better than to do something like this, and CT should know better than to print it.

Anthony Campolo, Ph.D.

Eastern College

St. Davids, Pa.

Many of us who believe the Bible to be the inspired Word of God also believe that both the sexual identities and the committed relationships of our homosexual sisters and brothers are cause for celebration, rather than either regret or condemnation. I am grateful to Stanton Jones for stating the basis of what we believe so clearly. He points out that what the Bible condemns is the “isolated act” of people of the same gender having sex with each other. Homosexuality, as a fundamental element of personal identity, is not what the Bible condemns.

Peggy Campolo

St. Davids, Pa.

When First Apologized to Second

Kay Mueller, who attends the mostly white First Baptist Church of Evanston, Illinois, was talking to her friend, who attends the mostly black Second Baptist. Her friend told of Second Baptist’s annual homecoming service where they celebrate and remember the founding of the church. What Kay found surprising was that Second Baptist’s history involved her own church. In 1870, tired of being relegated to the balcony, several black members of First Baptist walked out and formed their own congregation.

But what is remembered as an empowering moment at Second Baptist was hidden history at First Baptist—that is, until Mueller took the facts to her board. Consequently, First Baptist drafted a “Resolution of Reconciliation,” confessing its sin and offering an apology, which was formally read and presented to Second Baptist in 1990. Since then, the churches regularly exchange pulpits and choirs.

During one exchange, Second Baptist’s pastor, Hycel Taylor (the subject of our cover photograph), preached on the sinful state of today’s race relations, an excerpt of which appears in our institute “The Myth of Racial Progress” (beginning on p. 16). Coordinating the institute was another Second Baptist parishioner, and also our newest senior news writer (though a long-time CT contributor), Andres Tapia. Knowing of Andres’s long interest in interracial concerns, we asked him to put together a forum of African-American church leaders to tell us what they want white Christians to know. We think the results are impressive, culminating in an issue that will be talked about for years to come.

What more could one ask from a senior news writer?

MICHAEL G. MAUDLIN, Managing Editor

History

Puzzling Encounters

Usama ibn Munqidh was emir of Shizar in the twelfth century, when Christians occupied much of the Holy Land. Here are three accounts of his experience with the clash of cultures.

Take My Son?

A very important Frankish knight … had come on a pilgrimage and was going home again. We got to know one another, and became firm friends. He called me “Brother,” and an affectionate friendship grew up between us.

When he was due to embark for the return journey, he said to me, “My brother, as I am about to return home, I should be happy if you would send your son with me” (the boy, who was about 14 years old, was beside me at the time), “so that he could meet the noblemen of the realm and learn the arts of politics and chivalry. On his return home, he would be a truly cultivated man.”

A truly cultivated man would never be guilty of such a suggestion; my son might as well be taken prisoner as go off into the land of the Franks!

I turned to my friend and said, “I assure you that I could desire nothing better for my son, but unfortunately the boy’s grandmother, my mother, is very attached to him, and she would not even let him come away with me without extracting a promise from me that I would bring him back to her.”

Their God Is Too Small

I was present myself when one of them [Templars] came up to the emir Mu’in ad-Din—God have mercy on him—in the Dome of the Rock, and said to him, “Would you like to see God as a baby?”

The emir said that he would, and the fellow proceeded to show us a picture of Mary with the infant Messiah on her lap. “This,” he said, “is God as a baby.”

Almighty God is greater than the infidels’ concept of him!

Fanatic Foreigner

This is an example of Frankish barbarism, God damn them! When I was in Jerusalem, I used to go to the Masjid al-Aqsa, beside which is a small oratory which the Franks have made into a church. Whenever I went into the mosque, which was in the hands of Templars, who were friends of mine, they would put the little oratory at my disposal, so that I could say my prayers there.

One day I had gone in, said the Allah akhbar [the beginning of a sequence of prayers], and risen to begin my prayers, when a Frank threw himself on me from behind, lifted me up, and turned me so that I was facing east.

“That is the way to pray!” he said. [Medieval Christians prayed facing east—toward Jerusalem; Muslims faced the qibla, the direction of Mecca.]

Some Templars at once intervened, seized the man, and took him out of my way, while I resumed my prayer. But the moment they stopped watching him, he seized me again and forced me to face east, repeating that this was the way to pray. Again the Templars intervened and took him away.

They apologized to me and said, “He is a foreigner who has just arrived today from his homeland in the north, and he has never seen anyone pray facing any other direction than east.”

“I have finished my prayers,” I said, and left, stupefied by the fanatic who had been so perturbed and upset to see someone praying facing the qibla!

Copyright © 1993 by the author or Christianity Today/Christian History magazine. Click here for reprint information on Christian History.

History

The Crusades: A Gallery of Martial Monks & Holy Kings

The great preachers, planners, and fighters of the Holy Land crusades.

Bernard of Clairvaux (1090–1153)

The “theologian of love” who preached war

Bernard, the son of a crusader, was a model monk. While young, he fasted so much he damaged his health, causing lifelong digestive problems. He reportedly studied the Bible and worshiped more than half of each day. He said Christ came to him in visions.

His spiritual intensity made for penetrating sermons, letters, and hymns. His essay “On Loving God” is one of Christian literature’s most eloquent on the subject. In it, Bernard writes, “God himself is the reason why He is to be loved.”

This same Bernard, in 1128, convinced church leaders to recognize a new order: fighting friars known as Templars. Though they took vows of poverty and chastity, these military monks were allowed to kill. They defended the pilgrim roads in Palestine.

Bernard was a powerful preacher, perhaps the greatest of his time. At times, he could be blunt. To the pope he wrote, “You have been entrusted with stewardship over the world, not given possession of it.” To crusaders fighting the pagan Wends in Germany, he insisted on no truce until “either their religion or nation shall be wiped out.”

Pope Eugene III, a former student of Bernard, enlisted his mentor to rally the people behind the Second Crusade. In his sermons and promotional letters, Bernard declared, “God arranges for himself to be in need, or he pretends to be, so that he can award to those fighting for him wages: the remission of their sins. … Take the sign of the cross. … If the cloth itself is sold it does not fetch much; if it is worn on a faithful shoulder, it is certain to be worth the kingdom of God.”

Response to his 1146 Easter sermon was so enthusiastic, he ran out of cloth crosses to pass out. So he tore pieces from his own habit to stitch on the shirts of would-be crusaders.

Though the promotion was a huge success, producing as many as 50,000 volunteers from France alone, the Second Crusade ended in embarrassing retreat. Bernard’s popularity took a dive, and for the remaining four years of his life, people criticized him.

With unyielding confidence he replied, “How can human beings be so rash as to dare to pass judgment on something that they are not in the least able to understand?”

Richard the Lion-Heart (1157–1199)

Courageous commander

King Richard I of England deserved his nickname.

During the Third Crusade, while 70 miles from Jaffa, he heard that the city had fallen to Muslims and that the last defenders were surrounded. He immediately started his troops on the march while he sailed ahead. From Jaffa’s harbor, he saw Muslim flags flying in the city. A priest jumped from the fortress walls into the ocean and swam to the ship, telling Richard that Christians were negotiating a surrender.

Richard unstrapped his leg armor and waded ashore. Behind him were no more than fifty knights and a few hundred archers and sailors. His advance stirred the defenders in the fortress to charge, and the Muslims were run out of town.

Richard’s crusading career began ten months after he was crowned at age 32. Recovering Jerusalem was his top priority. He made his way to the Holy Land with no more than 800 mounted soldiers. They were, however, well financed: Richard had collected an unpopular tithe of all income, arm-twisted acquaintances for donations, and even sold political offices.

An accomplished military strategist and skilled politician, Richard was also hotheaded and sometimes irresponsible. He arrived in the Holy Land in June 1191, in time to join the siege of Acre. Muslim defenders surrendered a month later. While negotiations for the release of captives were underway, Richard suspected bad faith on the part of the Muslims. In a rage, he ordered the immediate massacre of 2,700 Muslim hostages.

A month later, Richard headed south and began fortifying cities to make an assault on Jerusalem. Twice he managed to get within 12 miles of the Holy City, but his supply lines and forces proved too weak.

After sixteen months in Palestine, Richard heard his brother was plotting a takeover and that France was amassing troops for an attack. Before he left, he made a treaty with Muslim general Saladin that gave crusaders the Smile stretch of coastline from Tyre to Jaffa. Christians also were accorded safe passage throughout Palestine, permitting them to visit holy shrines.

Richard was 41 when, in a minor battle in northern France, he was killed by a lone arrow.

Saladin (c. 1138–1193)

Chivalrous Muslim general

Balian, a soldier in Christian forces just defeated by the Muslims, asked Saladin for one favor. Could he travel safely to and from Jerusalem to get his family out before the Muslims attacked the city? Saladin granted the request; he asked only that Balian not stay to fight.

When Balian reached Jerusalem, however, the city’s few defenders wanted him to command the garrison. Embarrassed, he asked Saladin for release from his vow. Saladin understood and also gave Balian’s family safe passage to the coast.

Such incidents have built the chivalrous reputation of the brilliant and sometimes brutal Saladin.

A Muslim Kurd from northern Iraq, Saladin was raised in a prominent family. At 14 he joined his uncle’s military staff and at 31 followed him to Egypt, where his uncle became vizier (a high officer). When his uncle died two months later, Saladin succeeded him. He then defeated competing Muslim leaders and started a dynasty that restored Egypt as the major Muslim power in the Middle East.

Saladin declared a jihad against the Christians. In July 1187, in mountains overlooking the Sea of Galilee, he won the bloody and critical Battle of Hattin. Thousands of Christians were killed during the battle, and hundreds slaughtered afterwards. Then Saladin swept through Palestine, taking Jerusalem and capturing more than fifty crusader castles in two years. When he was done, he had pushed the Christians back to three coastal cities.

In Richard the Lion-Heart, Saladin found a worthy military opponent, who thwarted his Muslim armies time and again. Saladin found Richard “pleasant, upright, magnanimous, and excellent.” Once when Richard contracted a serious fever, Saladin sent him peaches and pears, along with ice from the top of Mount Hermon 100 miles away. Eventually stalemated, Richard reluctantly agreed to a three-year truce.

Islam’s most famous military hero left an empire stretching some l,200 miles north to south, covering parts of Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Israel, Jordan, Syria, and Turkey. Saladin died at 55, weary of perpetual war. Generous throughout his life, he did not have enough money left to pay for a grave.

Innocent III (c. 1160–1216)

Mightiest of popes

The prestige and power of the medieval papacy were never more obvious than during Innocent’s reign, which began in 1198. He argued that his position was semidivine—“set in the midst between God and man, below God but above man.” He was the first to call himself “Vicar of Christ.”

Innocent exercised what he believed was his right to select the emperor of the Holy Roman Empire (which took in Germany and much of Italy). When the emperor he had chosen, Otto IV, made plans hostile to the pope, he soon found himself excommunicated, and eventually, ex-emperor.

Innocent longed to recapture the Holy Land. To make crusading easier for pilgrims and knights, he taxed ministers, collecting one-tenth of all revenues from clergy in Rome, and one-fortieth from outlying clergy. As a result, crusading was continuous during his l8-year papacy.

He repeatedly tried to convert the Albigensians of southern France from their dualist heresy. He even sent his personal representative as a missionary. When this legate was murdered, Innocent launched a crusade against the Albigensians, the first against heretics. Innocent tried to reduce the carnage, but the crusade produced horrifying massacres.

Innocent also longed to reunite the Western and Eastern churches under his papacy. But the disastrous Fourth Crusade ended that dream.

These crusaders never even made it into Muslim territory. Instead, in spite of Innocent’s threats of excommunication, soldiers captured and plundered Constantinople, the capital of Eastern Christianity, and divided the empire of the Eastern church. This bizarre turn of events shocked the world.

Innocent was planning what he hoped would be a more successful Fifth Crusade when he died from one of his frequent bouts with fever, likely caused by malaria.

A year before his death, he convened the Fourth Lateran Council, which enacted lasting decrees: that every Catholic make confession at least annually, and that the bread and wine of Communion are transubstantiated into the body and blood of Christ.

St. Louis (1214–1270)

The ultimate Christian king

When Louis IX fell seriously ill with malaria in 1244, he vowed if he got well he would join the holy war. He recovered and did what men of nearly every generation in his family had done since the First Crusade 150 years earlier—he led crusades.

Born the fourth of eleven children to King Louis VIII and Queen Blanche, he became heir to the throne after his three older siblings died. At age 12, prepubescent Louis found himself king, with a devout but smothering mother at his side.

Louis lived his faith: He wore hair shirts and visited hospitals, sometimes emptying the bedpans. He collected relics and built a chapel to house them.

At 20 he married Margaret, to whom he quickly became devoted. She bore him 11 children. When he left on a crusade, he took his wife and children along.

In 1248, with 36 ships loaded with 15,000 men, their horses, and supplies, Louis headed for Egypt, the center of Muslim power and the doorway to Jerusalem. After capturing Damietta, he led his army inland toward Cairo. But an epidemic forced Louis to retreat. The king suffered so badly from dysentery that he cut a hole in the back of his pants and marched with the rear guard.

Louis and part of the army were captured before making it back to the ships. Their ransom was so high, it reportedly took two days to count the gold. When one of Louis’s officials bragged about cheating the Muslims, the king angrily ordered the ransom paid in full.

The defeat plunged him into despair and deeper piety. He blamed himself for the loss, believing God was punishing him for his sins. He began dressing plainly, eating simply, and helping the poor.

Instead of going home, Louis took his army to Palestine, where they built walls and towers around several coastal cities. He stayed four years, returning to France only upon hearing of the death of his mother, who had been ruling in his absence.

Twenty-two years later, Louis tried to redeem himself with another crusade. He landed in Tunis, in northern Africa, in the heat of the summer of 1270. Dysentery or typhoid quickly swept through the unsanitary camp. Louis fell ill and died while lying penitently on a bed of ashes, whispering the name of the city he never won: “Jerusalem, Jerusalem.”

He soon became the only king of France named a saint by the Roman Catholic Church.

Peter the Hermit (c. 1050–1115)

Fiery recruiter

Two years before Pope Urban II called for a crusade, Peter made a pilgrimage to the Muslim-controlled Holy Land. There, he later said, he saw Christians chained, beaten, and killed. When he returned to France, he became an eloquent promoter of armed pilgrimage.

During some services, when he had exhausted his words and was overcome with emotion, he reportedly waved his crucifix before the sobbing masses. He attracted at least 20,000 followers—mostly peasant men, women, and children—in what became the first wave of the first Crusade.

This ragtag “army,” mockingly known as the Peasants’ Crusade, set out on the 2,000-mile walk in March 1096, five months before the official starting date set by the pope. The effect was electric. Whatever Peter did or said, wrote one medieval chronicler, “was regarded as little short of divine, to such an extent that hairs were snatched from his mule as relics.” One witness said Peter looked very much like the donkey he rode: his long face was framed in the hood of a dirty old robe made of coarse wool, tied at the waist by a rope.

As the army marched across Germany and south toward the Holy Land, Peter began losing control. The army forced the mostly Jewish community of Regensburg to undergo baptism. When they crossed into modern-day Hungary, Peter’s band began pillaging cities and countryside—all of which was under the jurisdiction of Greek Christians.

After crossing into Asia Minor, the army moved only 50 miles into Muslim territory before it was wiped out. “Their monument,” a chronicler wrote, “was a heap of bones.”

Peter, who happened to be in Constantinople seeking supplies, then joined the army of Godfrey of Bouillon in the second wave that eventually reached Jerusalem. Though an ascetic used to deprivation, Peter deserted the crusade during the siege of Antioch when food got scarce. This caused a scandal; one of the military commanders brought him back forcibly and made him vow not to leave again.

Shortly before the storming of Jerusalem, Peter stood on the Mount of Olives, a few hundred yards outside the city walls, and preached a stirring sermon. As Muslims jeered, he said, “You hear them? You hear their threats and blasphemies? Christ dies again on Calvary!”

The next year, Peter returned to Europe and started a monastery in Belgium, where he died eleven years later.

Stephen M. Miller is editor of Illustrated Bible Life.

Copyright © 1993 by the author or Christianity Today/Christian History magazine. Click here for reprint information on Christian History.

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