Half-Full Christianity

God’s Salesman: Norman Vincent Peale and the Power of Positive Thinking,by Carol V. R. George (Oxford, 269 pp.; $23, hardcover). Reviewed by Tim Stafford

“I have been accused of belonging to both branches [fundamentalist and modernist],” Norman Vincent Peale said in a sermon preached in the early sixties, “and that is a fact, I do.” That might sound like political squishiness, trying to please everybody at once. But as historian Carol George shows in her thoughtful and scholarly biography, Peale’s claim was true.

Peale has belonged to both and neither party, because he represented something genuinely new: the first example of nondenominational, entrepreneurial, communications-savvy, pragmatic, populist religion that rose out of the fundamentalist-modernist split.

Conservative Protestants have suspected him because his “power of positive thinking” was human-centered and biblically vague. Liberals have liked him even less, for he has been politically incorrect, sentimental, and unscholarly—and most of all, because he has challenged the highbrow, institutional religion they stood for. Today Peale and his “power of positive thinking” may seem tame and grandfatherly, but in his heyday he was a lightning rod for controversy. Peale broke ground for major changes in American religious life—changes we are still working out.

Also reviewed in this section: Me, Myself, & I, by Archibald D. Hart; The Dilemma of Self-Esteem, by Joanna and Alister McGrath; A History of Christianity in the United States and Canada, by Mark A. Noll; Our Journey Home, by Gary Bauer

The first entrepreneur

Born in the nineteenth century, Peale grew up the son of a Methodist pastor who loved Dwight L. Moody’s old-time gospel. The small-town Ohio churches of Norman’s boyhood emphasized revivals, altar calls, and Prohibition. Peale never lost his sense of Wesleyan piety. This biography mentions three “conversion” experiences subsequent to his boyhood one: on a 1934 trip to Keswick, England; during Billy Graham’s 1957 New York Crusade; and late in life, while watching evangelist Rex Humbard on television.

Peale’s greatest struggle, however, was not with God but with himself. As a boy he had a deep-seated inferiority complex and was extremely sensitive to criticism. He prayed about it fervently and drove himself into a variety of sales jobs. All through his life, dark fears contended with his sunny exterior.

At Ohio Wesleyan University—then still very much a church school—he read the works of William James and Ralph Waldo Emerson and was profoundly impressed by their hopeful interpretation of individual, psychological power. Boston University’s School of Theology exposed him to the reigning liberal theology. He disliked seminary intensely: he was never an abstract thinker and had a hard time seeing how “philosophy” would further the church’s ministry. Nevertheless, he began his pastoral work identifying himself as a liberal.

What distinguished his early pastorates, however, was hard work, especially in preparing his sermons and newspaper advertisements. He learned to communicate with the grassroots in a whole new way.

“I’m a conservative,” he told John Sherrill of Guideposts in an interview years later, “and I will tell you exactly what I mean by that. I mean that I have accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as my personal Savior. I mean that I believe my sins are forgiven by the atoning work of grace on the cross.… Now I’ll tell you something else.… I personally love and understand this way of stating the Christian gospel. But I am absolutely and thoroughly convinced that it is my mission never to use this language in trying to communicate with the audience that God has given me.”

At the age of 34, with a reputation as a dynamic pastor whose churches grew, Peale accepted a call to the Marble Collegiate Church in Manhattan. It had a large, historic building, a sizable endowment, but a small and discouraged congregation. He stayed for 52 years, building the church’s size and strength through the Depression, and seeing days in the fifties when tourists lined up on the streets to hear him preach. Peale was an innovator, launching a groundbreaking clinic for Christian psychotherapy, and starting Guideposts, the largest-circulation religious publication of our time.

Most important, he perfected his simplification of the gospel in the 1952 best-selling The Power of Positive Thinking. At last count, it had sold 15 million copies. Its format has been followed in thousands of self-help books since: numerous inspirational anecdotes and a few catchy, religio-psychological phrases. “Picturize, prayerize, actualize” was Peale’s key formula.

The book, for all its success, was savaged by liberal theologians in a way that is almost incomprehensible today. They hurt Peale deeply. In many ways, he was following the liberal path, adapting the kerygma of the gospel to modern ways of thinking.

His populism offended the theological Brahmins, however, as did his politics. They wanted a gospel that restructured society; he wanted to help the solitary individual who felt overwhelmed by modern life. They thought he was hijacking the church they controlled, remaking it to the tastes of the masses. They also disdained Peale’s conservative Republicanism; he took an active role (with several evangelicals) in opposing John F. Kennedy’s election on the grounds that he was a Roman Catholic. (Politically conservative evangelicals should read of the despair that swept over Peale and his allies at the election of Kennedy and, before him, Roosevelt. It might put their feelings about Bill Clinton in perspective.)

Connection or compromise?

Norman Vincent Peale is a devout Christian, who injected vitality into a church that was losing touch with ordinary Americans—with the salesmen and housewives and schoolteachers who found him so inspirational. Peale spoke their language, much as televangelists and megachurch pastors who followed him have done. But did he pay too high a price to connect?

Peale always believed his message was biblical, but it lacked much reference to sin, to atonement, or, indeed, to an incarnation. The Christ he preached was very like AA founder Bill Wilson’s ambiguous Higher Power.

How one evaluates Peale is probably an index of how one evaluates modern American Christianity. Nearly every facet of Peale’s work—his conservative politics, his individualistic, self-improving message, his concern for the power of the mind and its potential to transform life and health, his interest in modern communications and in numerical growth—has become dominant in the modern church. He was, like Christopher Columbus, a pathfinder, and all kinds of people have followed him into the new world of free-enterprise religion.

Whether we like it or not, we cannot return to the solid, orthodox, rural America Peale came from. We have to cultivate the new world, to make it produce good fruit. Unfortunately, Peale’s career offers few clues on how to do so. It is a telling close to Peale’s life that after retirement from the pastorate, he devoted nearly all his time to motivational speaking at business meetings. Peale is a man with a message about power: the power of our thoughts, which he believes releases the power of God. The message, however, is easily detached from a setting where people might worship God or say a creed; the church of Pealism ultimately requires only the lively spirits of a banquet room.

The Troubled Self

Me, Myself, & I: How Far Should We Go in Our Search for Self-Fulfillment?by Archibald D. Hart (Servant, 252 pp.; $10.99, paper).The Dilemma of Self-Esteem: The Cross and Christian Confidence,by Joanna and Alister McGrath (Crossway, 156 pp.; $8.99, paper). Reviewed by Robert C. Roberts, professor of philosophy and psychological studies at Wheaton College and the author of Taking the Word to Heart (Eerdmans).

The church has a love-hate relationship with psychology. To those who lean toward hate, the psychologist is the thief in shepherd’s clothing, one who comes in the name of health and guidance but in reality kills the soul and destroys the faith of God’s lambs. They think that in the place of God, psychology sets the human self; and in place of loving God and neighbor, psychology promotes self-esteem. The other side sees psychology (the science of the soul) as the key to a correct reading of what is central to the Christian message. That message is surely about health, salvation, well-being—in particular, the health and salvation of the soul—and that is exactly what psychology offers, supported by scientific research and professional expertise.

For a third group of Christians, the love and the hate are found within a single heart: We see there is much good to be derived from psychology, but we are appalled by what it sometimes does to people, replacing the profound shape of the Christian spiritual life with something that by comparison seems meager, cheap, and shallow. We are confused, unsure of what we are to make of psychology.

Redeeming psychology

Some answers can be found in two recent and remarkably similar works: Me, Myself, and I, by Archibald Hart, a professor at Fuller seminary’s Graduate School of Psychology; and The Dilemma of Self-Esteem, by Joanna McGrath, a British psychologist, and her Oxford University theologian-husband, Alister McGrath. All three authors recognize the danger of too facile an “integration” of psychology and psychotherapy into the life of the church; yet they think some of the methods of psychology and some of its goals (rightly interpreted) can be adopted for Christian use.

Against the antipsychology sentiment in the church (which sees the self only as a barrier to proper spirituality), these authors hold that the self is, in itself, something to be nurtured, not feared or rejected. They affirm that self-esteem, rightly understood, is to be promoted, both in counseling and from the pulpit, as part of that nurture.

It is integral to the project of both books to reject a kind of “dualism” between psychology and Christianity that says that people have two kinds of needs—emotional and spiritual—and that psychology deals with our emotional side while Christianity meets our spiritual needs. Instead, Hart and the McGraths insist that the emotional and the spiritual are entangled with each other in complicated ways.

They suggest that the self needs to be viewed in ways that are seldom understood by non-Christian psychologists. For instance, Christians see the self as created in the image of God for obedient fellowship with God and loving service to others. Self-fulfillment, then, is not something “selfish” but is the actualization of the “human potential” for worship, obedience, and service.

Hart and the McGraths criticize secular psychology for its failure to acknowledge human sin. Consequently, any concept of self-esteem fostered by such psychology will be unrealistic, tending to gloss over or misinterpret the dark side of the human heart.

All three authors are uneasy with talking about “high” and “low” self-esteem, as though self-esteem is some one quantifiable value. Rather, self-esteem comes in different kinds, they argue, and the Christian psychologist encourages self-esteem that is “appropriate” or “healthy” according to Christian standards. A self-esteem in which the individual experiences herself as attached to, and dependent on, Christ differs greatly from the kind promoted in Rogerian psychology, which has no notion of sin and aims to detach the individual from other persons with whom she may be close.

The McGraths find the basis for Christian self-esteem in Luther’s (and Paul’s) notion that Christians are simultaneously righteous in Christ and sinners in themselves. Thus our esteem is grounded not in what we do or even in who we are, but in someone who transcends all that we do or can do.

What’s right with Freud

In light of the differences between Christian and secular psychology, why shouldn’t Christians just get their psychology out of the Bible? Hart and the McGraths argue that there is much of value in secular psychology, although they do not limit themselves to any particular school (Freudian, Jungian, cognitive behavioral, Rogerian, etc.).

The McGraths lean toward cognitive behavioral psychology since it has been unusually successful in treating depression, which is closely related to self-esteem issues. Cognitive psychology emphasizes how a person thinks about himself, and therapy consists largely of trying to give the client healthier ways of thinking. For millennia, Christians have tried, through discipling and preaching, to change people by getting them to think differently about themselves. Cognitive psychologists like Aaron Beck have done a lot of research on cognition, emotional states, and on techniques of talking to clients from which Christians can learn. Similarly, the neo-Freudians, toward whom Hart leans, have increased our understanding of the role of early childhood in the development of personality and self-esteem.

Both of the books are written at a fairly popular level, with quite a bit of anecdote and repetition, but both are informative and based on solid training, theological understanding, and therapeutic experience. The McGraths’ book is somewhat more succinct and tightly reasoned; Hart’s is more chatty and punctuated with anecdotes.

Hart’s subtitle is misleading. The question is not, “How far should we go in our search for self-fulfillment?” for his answer is surely that we should go all the way to fulfillment in Jesus Christ. The question is rather, What is the self that is up for fulfillment in Christianity, and what are the barriers to and methods for attaining this fulfillment? The issue is not quantitative; it is about the quality of our lives, the character of our souls.

The Rise And Fall Of Protestant America

A History of Christianity in the United States and Canada,by Mark A. Noll (Eerdmans, xvi + 576 pp.; $39.95, hardcover; $29.95, paper). Reviewed by Kevin A. Miller, editor of CHRISTIAN HISTORY magazine.

Twenty-one years ago, Sydney E. Ahlstrom published his massive A Religious History of the American People. It won the American Book Award, became a standard classroom text, and frightened away most scholars from attempting anything similar. Now Mark Noll, McManis Professor of Christian Thought at Wheaton College, has ventured where historians feared to tread: he has written, in effect, an Ahlstrom for the nineties.

Noll’s History differs in important ways. First, Noll focuses on distinctly Christian, rather than religious, events. (Christian, though, is defined more culturally than theologically; thus, Mormons receive treatment.)

O Canada

More important, Noll ventures north of the border. He traces the path of Christianity not only in the U.S. but also in Canada, a story virtually unknown to American evangelicals. From the Huguenots (French Protestants), who settled New France in the 1600s, to former Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau, who was influenced by Quebec’s Catholic labor movement, we find surprises. Did you know that Canadians founded the Christian and Missionary Alliance and wrote the famous gospel hymn “What a Friend We Have in Jesus”?

Interweaving American and Canadian experience bogs the narrative somewhat, yet it generally provides intriguing insights. For instance, Canada, with its strong Catholic presence, never had an overarching Protestant public culture, as did the United States in the early 1800s. Thus it never had a monolithic approach to public education. One result, Noll writes, is that “more Canadians than Americans have acknowledged that education is never value-neutral.” Today, in most provinces, religious minorities can receive government funds for their own religious primary and secondary schools. American evangelicals frustrated with a secularist mindset in many public schools could study the Canadian approach with interest.

Noll also provocatively argues that “Canada has an even better objective argument for being considered a ‘Christian nation’ than does the United States.”

Why? “Canada did not tolerate slavery, it has not thrown its weight around in foreign adventures, it has not done quite so poorly with its Native Americans, … its churches have much more … impact on local public life, it has cared more humanely for the poor and weak members of its society, and its educational structures make some provision for teaching religion.” Canada’s churches have their own problems, and Canadian society is rapidly becoming secular, but Noll’s point remains sharp: If you’re looking for “Christian America,” look north.

A religious wilderness

Canadians are not the only underreported minority Noll covers. He admits his book is “self-consciously influenced by important recent currents in the study of American religious history”:

• An emphasis on the religious experiences of the poor and working-class folk who generally did not leave written records. One way Noll incorporates their story is by including the texts of hymns, which even the poorest used to express their religious feelings.

• Considerable coverage of women and minorities. For example, Noll tells the “ambiguous” tale of Protestant missions to the Cherokees. In the early 1800s, Moravian, Presbyterian, and Baptist missionaries evangelized the Cherokees in parts of Georgia, North Carolina, and Tennessee. The Cherokees’ “slow but steady acceptance of the Christian faith” was violently halted when gold was found in northern Georgia and President Andrew Jackson forcibly removed the Cherokees to the West. Most missionaries went along with the crime. Some protested their nation’s action and were jailed.

• A focus wider than the Puritans in the early 1700s. Noll follows current scholarship in paying significant attention to other early shapers of American religion, such as the Quakers and Anglicans (Episcopalians).

• More attention to the nineteenth-century immigrants—Lutherans, Catholics, Orthodox—who transformed a largely Protestant American landscape.

But Noll’s History is more than merely trendy and comprehensive. It helps Christians place themselves. Where are North American believers today?

In Noll’s telling, the story might be titled “The Rise and Fall of Protestants in America.” Christians hewed out of the American wilderness a largely Protestant culture that dominated society. The Protestant mainstream “once dictated cultural values, provided standards for private and public morality, assumed primary responsibility for education, and powerfully shaped the media.” Oh, how the mighty have fallen! Today “Protestantism is fragmented and culturally feeble.”

When did American Protestants lose the field? In Noll’s view, “evangelical America” began to unravel at the Civil War and was completely undone by the 1920s. Today, he concludes, North America is a religious wilderness.

But the cloud has a silver lining. “Now, with these Christian establishments mostly a memory,” Noll writes, “churches may find it possible to concentrate more on the Source of Life than on the American Way of Life.” In other words, no longer able to wield a big political stick, North American Protestants may have to walk softly and rediscover their spiritual strength.

If America’s denominations have fallen back into a “religious wilderness,” though, how does Noll explain the incredibly high level of church adherence in the United States? As Roger Finke and Rodney Stark argue in The Churching of America, 1776–1990, “America shifted from a nation in which most people took no part in organized religion to a nation in which nearly two-thirds of American adults do.”

Noll would probably reply that in the States, “secularization … advances within the churches.” Still, Finke and Stark present evidence that the rise in American church membership was not accompanied by a decline in acceptance of doctrine or in commitment. The historians and sociologists will have to sift out how America can simultaneously be in a “religious wilderness” and a church-adherence revival.

Noll has given us a fine narrative history, probably the best available of Christianity in North America. And it is significant that it was written by an evangelical. Evangelical historians are now making their mark on the field of church history—especially on American religious history. Many of the best new books, grants, study centers, and journals are influenced or led by evangelicals. In few other academic circles can that be said.

Were Ozzie And Harriet Good Parents?

Our Journey Home: What Parents Are Doing to Preserve Family Values,by Gary Bauer (Word, 222 pp.; $15.99, hardcover). Reviewed by Mark A. Horne, a freelance writer and contributing editor to Legacy Communications.

In one sense, Gary Bauer is optimistic. In Our Journey Home he argues that family values are on the rise in America, that a decline begun in the fifties is slowly reversing. As the president of the Family Research Council (FRC), one of the most visible profamily lobbying groups in Washington, D.C., Bauer is well-qualified to make his case. He claims that antifamily elites in politics, entertainment, arts, and the media are ignoring and deriding a grassroots sexual counterrevolution.

Bauer cites a survey of a thousand Americans in which 61 percent of respondents said that things were much better in the fifties than they are today. Other polls and surveys are used to reveal the culture’s moral shift to the right.

A USA Today poll found that 63 percent of teens believe that safe-sex ads are dangerous because they might be interpreted as condoning casual sex; only 54 percent of adults felt that way. Could teenagers be getting more conservative than their parents?

After making his case for a resurgent grassroots conservatism, Bauer gives parents some commonsensible advice, urging them to be both caregivers and role models for their families. He includes a survey of what values parents should teach their children and a recommended list of “the literature of family, faith, and freedom.” These recommendations range from the fiction of C. S. Lewis to the Federalist Papers. Unfortunately, this last section is one of the shorter chapters in the book.

More than nostalgia

Despite some surprising information, Our Journey Home is, on the whole, unconvincing. Bauer’s optimism about the outlook for family values is based on what he claims is a grassroots change in thinking. He assumes such a trend will eventually be reflected in legislation, public education, and other areas of life under the dominion of politics.

The assumption is dubious. Conservatives are, by nature, handicapped in politics. Bauer as much as admits this when he talks of “cultural elites.” Husbands and wives struggling financially to support a family and raise civilized children are rarely in a position to become activists, to lobby the government, or to get heavily involved in the school board. As a result, those who do have the time and inclination for the pursuit of politics may not represent those who live by family values.

Another problem is that the book aims too low. Despite Bauer’s statistics, much of the book’s content is anecdotal and much of the book’s force depends on arousing nostalgia in the reader. Bauer insists on holding up as ideal the patriotic action of the forties and the suburban lifestyles of the fifties.

It is an undeniable fact of history, however, that American involvement in World War II severely undermined family values. Whether one considers the army-run brothels under General Patton in Europe or the intense government propaganda luring wives into war factories, it is obvious the values of that time were nationalistic at the expense of the family.

Once the war was over, men and women were ready to settle down. Nevertheless, the permissive society was here to stay. The children these families produced in the fifties spawned the “sexual revolution” of the sixties. After all, if the families of the fifties were so conservative, how did the culture change so suddenly?

To present an optimistic vision for the future, we need a better model than the fifties. We need something that can last.

Entrepreneur Jim Russell wants Christians to have a bigger role in the secular press, and he is willing to pay for it.

I was stunned by the statistics,” Lansing, Michigan, businessman Jim Russell recalls. Gallup surveys showed that 94 percent of Americans believe in God. Seventy-four percent claim to have “made a commitment to Jesus Christ.”

Russell concluded that proclamation of the gospel in America had been widely accomplished. But meditating on the Great Commission, he recalls, “I read that Jesus told his disciples to teach the world ‘to obey everything I have commanded you.’ Well, that we haven’t done. I felt God has given us this magnificent proclamation victory; we have responded with a monumental discipling failure.”

As Russell recounts his growing determination to rectify the “discipling failure,” his voice rises with the excitement of a visionary and the urgency of an entrepreneur used to ready solutions. Dressed in a conservative suit and paisley tie, Russell presents a slight, unimposing figure. Thinning hair and a few small furrows in his bespectacled countenance give the only hint that he is old enough to be retired. His energy and acumen make clear why he is still able to run a thriving business at the age of 68—and why he has not hesitated to launch ambitious responses to what he perceives as the lack of Christian truth in the secular media.

He launched the Amy Awards in 1983, for example. Few Christian writers have never heard of the annual $10,000 first prize and 14 additional cash prizes offered by the Amy Foundation. Each year the foundation awards a total of $34,000 to writers whose articles present biblical truth, include a Bible quotation, and appear in secular print media. College students who accomplish the same goal are eligible for the $5,000 Carl F. H. Henry Scholarship, an offshoot of the Amy Awards program.

Jim and Phyllis Russell formed the Amy Foundation in 1976 to support individuals and groups that proclaim the gospel and help the underprivileged. The couple provides 90 percent of the foundation’s funds and named it after their fifth and youngest child, 23, who was born with Down syndrome.

Even with the launching of the Amy Awards, however, Jim Russell was not satisfied. In 1990, in response to the startling Gallup statistics, Russell launched another venture: what he calls a church writing group movement, targeting hidden, “latent” writers.

The idea for the Amy Awards first took root as Russell read his morning newspaper and watched television. “I was increasingly concerned and unhappy that God’s truth was not being presented. The media and entertainment worlds were coming under the domination of the secular mind.”

For seven years, Russell and a friend met weekly and prayed that God would restore his presence in the nation’s media. “I was overwhelmed by frustration, anger, and humiliation over Christians’ abandonment of the media. It finally got to the point where I said to myself, ‘Well, nobody seems to be picking up on this. I guess I’m going to have to write myself.’ ”

Russell bought a typewriter and took it with him on a five-week Florida vacation. He intended to write two or three articles presenting a biblical perspective, which he would then market to a local newspaper. “The idea never left my mind while we were there, but not a single sheet of paper entered the typewriter.”

During that seemingly fruitless vacation, Russell faced the fact that he is not a writer and could not accomplish his goal alone. “The Lord began to impress on my heart that there had to be a more effective way than me doing it, so he began to shape in my mind the idea of the Amy awards. By the time I left Florida, the entire concept of the contest was formed.”

When he returned home to Lansing, Russell shared his new vision with some Christian business associates, and they helped him launch the program. “The first year we had ten prizes, and we hoped we’d get enough entries to award them all,” he remembers. “We asked the Lord to send us 100 entries; 154 came in.” Entries for the 1992 contest topped 1,000.

“The Amy Awards would not be necessary if Christian writers, editors, and publishers were not so intimidated into cultural isolation,” Russell explains. “The idea of the Amy Awards is to get God’s truth and biblical principles out there in the marketplace of ideas. God does not want his holy truth relegated to the religious ghetto of the Saturday morning religion page.”

Russell has been surprised by the huge number of qualified submissions, representing millions of circulated copies. He is not the only one. He now hears from hundreds of Christian writers nationwide who express amazement that their efforts were accepted in secular publications.

John Mosqueda, 1991 Amy Award winner, former staff writer for the Los Angeles Times, and senior pastor of Las Vegas Bible Church, admits that when he first heard of the program, he did not believe it was possible to get an article containing Scripture into the secular media. But he wrote one and got it published—the first of many.

“The Amy program has helped people understand that the door really is open,” Mosqueda says. “The program tells writers it can be done.”

Mary Ann Diorio, a third-place Amy Award winner in 1990 and a judge for the 1991 contest, recalls how the program confirmed her own growing conviction to write for the secular media. Diorio had had hundreds of pieces published in Christian publications. “Before I heard of the Amy contest,” she explains, “I sensed the leading of the Spirit to write for the secular media.” The contest nudged her on.

Nationally syndicated columnist and author Cal Thomas values the program. As a journalist in the secular media for more than 30 years, Thomas wrote from the biblical viewpoint on many issues before the Amy Awards began and would do so without the awards, he says. However, he adds that the program is “a great encouragement to me and to a lot of other writers.”

Thomas won first place in the 1986 contest and additional prizes in four other years. The awards help “lead people back into the arena from which they never should have withdrawn. And it shows the public that there are ideas they might never have considered, which are not only credible, but compelling.”

Not everyone is so enthusiastic. Russ Chandler, who served as religion writer for the Los Angeles Times for 18 years prior to his recent early retirement, voices reservations. Because the Amy Awards are so financially valuable, Chandler said, they present a temptation to work Scripture into a story just to win the money. Chandler says he would not want to see his colleagues compromise their integrity.

Chandler has won some coveted awards himself, but he points out that the Templeton Award, one of the highest in journalism, pays just $2,500—one-fourth of the top Amy prize. Chandler, who has worked as a news writer for various publications since 1966, compares Russell’s goal to handing out tracts or placing a Gideon Bible in a motel room—trying to plant the Word in an alien surrounding in hopes of reaching a few. God can and has worked that way, he concedes, but it should not be the main function for the secular press.

Phil Lee, a member of the Amy Foundation board of trustees, acknowledges that the amount of the awards is unusually high. He recalls that when the board set up the contest, it considered the prize money amounts carefully. “We wanted to get attention, to motivate, to reward,” he says. “The highest journalism prize given at that time was $2,000. We knew that an award five times that would get attention. We had no idea how much attention.”

Doug Bandow, winner of an Amy Award in 1988, is a Senior Fellow at the Cato Institute in Washington, D.C., and a columnist on political and economic affairs for Copley News Service. His prize-winning article appeared in the New York Tribune. Bandow says the requirement to include a Bible quotation presents a problem. “I could be writing about a very important Christian issue,” he explains, “but if I don’t quote the Bible, I can’t enter. That strikes me as a bit artificial.” At the same time, he said the award is “certainly a good incentive for folks to think it’s worth trying to deal with religious issues in the secular press.”

Russell remains adamant that each qualified entry include a Bible quotation. “An article must contain Scripture because we must trust in God’s promise that his Word will not return void. The world follows many biblical principles, but people often don’t know where these principles come from. A good statement doesn’t have the power it would if reinforced with God’s Word.”

Russell comes by an entrepreneurial approach easily. Owning his own business was one of Russell’s dreams. In 1964, Russell had a good job and a comfortable income as the division sales manager of a business-forms company. He and his wife had four children and a new house with a huge mortgage, so scaling back to no income required a leap of faith. The Russells sold their new car for $2,500, borrowed another $2,500 from the bank, and capitalized Russell Business Forms, Inc. (now RBF) for $5,000. They cleaned out one bedroom, bought a $35 desk and a telephone, and set up their first office. “And I grabbed my briefcase and started running,” Russell says. Phyllis answered the phone and did the invoicing. At the end of the year, they chalked up $200 in profit. But the firm prospered and now has offices in three states.

At age 68, Russell continues to search for new ways to introduce God’s truth into secular media. Pondering how the church could reach out even more to believing but undiscipled Americans, Russell recalled that 97 percent of the country’s 22,000 publications are secular. He realized that his Amy Award program had opened the door for many of these publications to see articles containing biblical truth.

But he was not satisfied. By placing ads for the Amy Awards in writers’ publications and speaking at writers’ conferences, Russell had mobilized primarily three groups of Christian writers—professionals, free-lancers, and journalism and writing students. But the contest had left untapped the largest pool of all: latent writers in the churches.

“I began thinking about all the people who have communication skills,” Russell says: “teachers, attorneys, business people, homemakers.” Russell reasoned that these latent writers could form small writing groups in local congregations. The group members would write letters to the editor, op-ed columns, and articles applying biblical truth to timely issues. Some might get into national publications, but the most likely target would be local newspapers or magazines.

Statistics first caught his attention, and more statistics inspired his next plan of action. “There are 350,000 Christian churches in the United States,” Russell reasons. “If the Lord will raise up small writing groups in 3 percent of these churches, we will have 10,500 writing groups. If each group commits to get one op-ed piece in its local media per month, each containing a passage of Scripture, that would be 126,000 articles a year. When multiplied by the thousands of copies circulated, the ‘reader-discipling’ experiences will number in the megamillions.” Russell hopes to distribute tens of thousands of brochures describing the new program.

Some critics object to Russell’s use of the term discipling in connection with writing, insisting that discipling can be done only through personal contact. Russell, who has done one-to-one discipling for many years, says he believes in the personal method but disagrees that it is the only way.

Russell felt the Lord brought the apostle Paul to mind as an example. “The high calling of Paul was discipling through writing. In his entire life, Paul never communicated the truths of Christ as he does today through his writing. The discipling power is in the Word, however it’s communicated.

“Jesus said that making disciples entailed teaching obedience to what he commanded. He didn’t say it had to be nose-to-nose. If you describe a contemporary problem in an article, apply biblical truth as a solution, and support the biblical principles with a passage of Scripture, isn’t that discipling by teaching obedience?”

The New Testament, Russell points out, was written by the nonprofessional, latent writers of the early church. Besides Paul the tentmaker, there were Matthew, a tax collector; Luke, a physician; and John, Peter, and James, who were fishermen.

Not long ago, Russell started a writing group in his church, the Bretton Woods Covenant Church in Lansing. Twenty-two of the church’s 100 members expressed interest in being part of the group, and a dozen came to the first meeting. The group set a goal of publishing at least one piece per month. In the following months, the group had letters to the editor published that presented a Christian perspective on such issues as parenting, serving the underprivileged, humility in leadership, and the power of biblical truth.

John Mosqueda started a writing group in the church he pastors and knows two other pastors who plan to do so. Mary Ann Diorio’s church, the Fairton Christian Center of Fairton, New Jersey, started a writing group that emphasizes writing for the secular media. The group quickly expanded and formed the core of the New Jersey Society of Christian Writers.

Russell expects a similar response in churches nationwide. “People in the church are as frustrated today with moral deterioration of the country as I was ten years ago,” he says. “But no longer are they going to have to say, ‘What can we do?’ We’re going to show them what they can do, how they can present their personal convictions, love, concern, and biblical solutions to the world through the local media. And what they have on their heart will be read by thousands.”

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.

Humanity will find some spirit to guide its environmental concerns. Will it be Christian?

In March 1990, in Seoul, South Korea, I attended an international conference on Justice, Peace, and the Integrity of Creation sponsored by the World Council of Churches. I heard many persuasive claims about the way Christians had distorted humanity’s mandate to have dominion over the Earth—the consequence of these distortions being a ravaged creation. I became concerned, however, when I noticed that no one had mentioned the fact that human beings have an exalted status within creation, in that they alone are created in the image of God.

So I proposed a one-sentence addition to the document we were debating. From the floor, I asked that we add a sentence affirming that, as we confess these misunderstandings, we nonetheless “accept the biblical teaching that people alone have been created in the image of God.”

The drafting committee promptly accepted the addition but dropped the word alone. I pointed out that this undercut the basic point. Are trees and toads also created in God’s image? When the drafting committee remained adamant, I called for a vote. And the motion lost! At that moment, a majority of attendees at this important convocation were unwilling to say what historical, biblical theology has always affirmed: that human beings alone are created in the image of God.

As my experience illustrates, in today’s environmental movement there is a lot of theological confusion. Actress Shirley MacLaine says we must declare that we are all gods. Disciplined but unchastened Catholic theologian Matthew Fox says we should turn from a theology centered on sin and redemption and develop a creation spirituality, with nature as our primary revelation and sin a distant memory. Australian scientist Peter Singer says any claim that persons have a status different from monkeys and moles is “speciesism.” Several decades ago historian Lynn White argued that it is precisely the Christian view of persons and nature that created the whole ecological mess. Meanwhile, many evangelicals come close to celebrating the demise of the Earth, enthusiastically citing the decay as proof that the return of Christ is very near.

These and other factors will tempt evangelicals to ignore or denounce environmental concerns. But that would be a tragic mistake—for at least three reasons. First, because the danger is massive and urgent. Second, because there are evangelistic opportunities that arise out of environmental concern. And third, because if we do not offer biblical foundations for environmental action, we will have only ourselves to blame if environmental activists turn to other, finally inadequate, world-views and religions. With wisdom and a renewed appreciation of the wholeness of God’s plan for redemption, we can lead the way forward in the healing of our Earth.

Why be involved

An urgent problem. That we are in trouble is increasingly clear. Gaping holes in the ozone layer, polluted rivers, expanding deserts, denuded mountainsides, air-poisoned cities, and spiraling carbon emissions producing global warming—all sound the warning. In the last 40 years, we have lost one-fifth of our topsoil and one-third of our rain forests. Leading scientists are so frightened that even prominent secularists like Carl Sagan have issued an urgent plea to the religious community to help find solutions to impending ecological disaster.

Evangelistic opportunities. The very urgency of the problem has created tremendous evangelistic opportunities. As one reads the environmental literature, the deep yearning for religious meaning becomes clear. Many environmentalists have rejected the materialistic “scientism” that drives our technoculture. They are right in thinking that secular naturalism, which has been so influential in the last 200 years, cannot solve environmental problems. The tragedy is that when these folks yearn for religious solutions, they assume that historic Christianity has nothing to offer. So they turn to goddess worship, nature spirituality, Eastern monism, and New Age nonsense.

What an opportunity—if we have the courage, intellectual vigor, and faith. Instead of rejecting environmentalism lest our theology become contaminated, we must stride boldly into the mainstream of the green movement, showing how biblical faith offers a better foundation for environmental engagement. We need to imitate Paul’s bold strategy in the face of the Athenians’ religious confusion and spiritual groping. Paul praised their religious yearning and told them about the God for whom they did not have a name (Acts 17). If we do the same, naming God in the midst of the massive contemporary longing for religious foundations, we may be surprised at the evangelistic results.

Christian leadership. Third, evangelicals must become environmentalists to make sure that a biblical rather than a monist world-view shapes what will undoubtedly be one of the most central global problems of our lifetime. Make no mistake: Modern folk will find some spiritual foundations to guide and shape their environmental concerns. If it is not biblical faith, then it will be something far less adequate.

There is a spiritual battle going on. Satan would dearly love to persuade modern folk that the best way to solve our environmental crisis is to jettison historic Christianity. The truth, of course, is exactly the reverse. The best foundation for saving the creation is by worshiping and obeying the Creator revealed in Jesus Christ.

Called to garden

The only way to make sure that the biblical world-view plays a central role in shaping key environmental decisions is for large numbers of biblical Christians to join enthusiastically in the environmental movement. As we pray, teach, and act, five biblical principles will be especially important.

First, whereas a one-sided view of either God’s transcendence or immanence compounds our problems, a biblical combination of both points the way through our dilemmas. If we focus only on God’s immanence (his presence in the world), we land in pantheism where everything is divine and good as it is. If we talk only about God’s transcendence (his radical separateness from creation), we may end up seeing nature as a mere tool to be used at human whim.

The biblical God is both immanent and transcendent. He is not a cosmic watchmaker who wound up the global clock and then let it run on its own. God continues to work in the creation. In Job we read that God gives orders to the morning (38:12), that the eagle soars at God’s command (39:27), and that God provides food for the ravens when their young cry out in hunger (38:41). The Creator, however, is also radically distinct from the creation. Creation is finite, limited, dependent; the Creator is infinite, unlimited, self-sufficient.

Second, we should gratefully learn all we can from the book of nature without in any way abandoning biblical revelation. When Matthew Fox tells us that we can get most or all the revelation we need from creation, we will firmly reply that the biblical revelation of redemption from sin through Jesus Christ is as true and essential as ever in our environmental age.

Third, human beings are both interdependent with the rest of creation and unique within it, because we alone have been created in the divine image and given stewardship over the Earth. Christians have at times forgotten our interdependence with the rest of creation. Our daily existence depends on water, sun, and air. Everything is interrelated in the global ecosystem. The emissions from our cars contribute to the destruction of trees—trees that convert the carbon dioxide we exhale into the oxygen we need to survive. Christians today must recover an appreciation of our dependence on the trees and flowers, the streams and forests. Unless we do, we shall surely perish.

But the Bible insists on two other things about humanity: Human beings alone are created in the image of God, and we alone have been given a special “dominion” or stewardship. It is a biblical truth, not speciesism, to say that only human beings—and not trees and animals—are created in the image of God (Gen. 1:27). This truth is the foundation of our God-given mandate to have dominion over the nonhuman creation (Gen. 1:28; Psalm 8).

Tragically—and arrogantly—we have distorted dominion into domination. Lynn White was correct in placing some blame for environmental decay on Christianity. But it is a misunderstanding of the Bible, not God’s Word itself, that is at fault here.

Genesis 2:15 says the Lord put us in the garden “to work it and take care of it” (NIV). The word abad, translated “work,” means “to serve.” The related noun actually means “slave” or “servant.” The word shamar, translated “take care of,” suggests watchful care and preservation of the Earth. We are to serve and watch lovingly over God’s good garden, not rape it.

The Old Testament offers explicit commands designed to prevent exploitation of the Earth. Every seventh year, for instance, the Israelites’ land was to lie fallow because “the land is to have a year of rest” (Lev. 25:4). Failure to provide this sabbatical for the land was one reason for the Babylonian captivity (Lev. 26:34, 42–43). “I will remember the land,” Yahweh declared.

If we have no different status from that of mammals and plants, we cannot eat them for food or use them to build civilizations. We do not need to apologize to brother carrot when we have lunch. We are free to use the resources of the Earth for our own purposes. Created in the divine image, we alone have been placed in charge of the Earth. At the same time, our dominion must be the gentle care of a loving gardener, not the callous exploitation of a self-centered lord. So we should not wipe out species or waste the nonhuman creation. Only a careful, stewardly use of plants and animals by human beings is legitimate.

Clothing the lilies

Fourth, a God-centered, rather than a human-centered, world-view respects the independent worth of the nonhuman creation. Christians have too easily and too often fallen into the trap of supposing that the nonhuman creation has worth only as it serves human purposes. This, however, is not a biblical perspective.

Genesis 1 makes clear that all creation is good—good, according to the story, even before our first ancestors arrived on the scene. Colossians 1:16 reveals that all things are created for Christ. And according to Job 39:1–2, God watches over the doe in the mountains, counting the months of her pregnancy and watching over her when she gives birth! The first purpose of the nonhuman creation, then, is to glorify God, not to serve us.

“The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims his handiwork. Day to day pours forth speech, and night to night declares knowledge. There is no speech, nor are there words; their voice is not heard; yet their voice goes out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world” (Ps. 19:1–4).

It is important to note that God has a covenant, not only with persons but also with the nonhuman creation. After the flood, God made a covenant with the animals as well as with Noah: “Behold, I establish my covenant with you and your descendants after you, and with every living creature that is with you, the birds, the cattle, and every beast of the earth with you, as many as came out of the ark” (Gen. 9:9–10).

Jesus recognized God’s covenant with the whole of creation when he noted how God feeds the birds and clothes the lilies (Matt. 6:26–30). The nonhuman creation has its own worth and dignity apart from its service to humanity.

Insisting on the independent dignity of the nonhuman creation does not mean that we ignore the biblical teaching that it has been given to us human beings for our stewardship and use (Gen. 1:28–30; Ps. 8:6–8). Always, however, our use of the nonhuman creation must be a thoughtful stewardship that honors the creation’s dignity and worth in the eyes of the Creator.

The Earth’s hope

Finally, God’s cosmic plan of redemption includes the nonhuman creation. This fact provides a crucial foundation for building a Christian theology for an environmental age. The biblical hope that the whole created order, including the material world of bodies and rivers and trees, will be part of the heavenly kingdom confirms that the created order is good and important.

The Bible’s affirmation of the material world can be seen most clearly in Christ himself: Not only did the Creator enter his creation by becoming flesh and blood to redeem us from our sin, but the God-man was resurrected bodily from the tomb. The goodness of the created order is also revealed in how the Bible describes the coming kingdom: the marriage supper of the Lamb, where we will feast on bread, wine, and all the glorious fruit of the earth.

Unlike Hindu monists who think the created order is an illusion to escape, biblical people know that the creation is in itself so good that God is going to purge it of the evil introduced by the Fall and restore it to wholeness. Romans 8:19–23 tells us that at Christ’s return, when we experience the resurrection of the body, then the groaning creation will be transformed: “The creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God” (NIV).

In Colossians 1:15–20 we read that God intends to reconcile all things, “whether things on earth or things in heaven,” through Jesus Christ. That does not mean that everyone will be saved; rather, it means that Christ’s salvation will finally extend to all of creation. The Fall’s corruption of every part of creation will be corrected.

The prophets often spoke of the impact of human sin on nature (Gen. 3:17–18; Isa. 24:4–6; Hosea 4:3). But they also foresaw that in the messianic time nature would share in salvation: “In that day I will make a covenant for them with the beasts of the field and the birds of the air” (Hos. 2:16–23, NIV; see also Isa. 55:12–13). In the coming kingdom, I hope to go sailing on an unpolluted Delaware river.

The Christian hope for Christ’s return must be joined with our doctrine of creation. Knowing that we are summoned by the Creator to be wise gardeners caring for God’s good Earth, knowing the hope that someday the Earth will be restored, Christians should be vigorous participants in the environmental movement. Our motives are many. We must preempt world-views that would undermine both Christian faith and a lasting environmental solution. We will discover, perhaps to our surprise, that environmental engagement grounded in biblical truth will attract many spiritually lost contemporaries to our Lord. Also, we may be able to save our grandchildren (should the world still exist 40 years from now) from ecological disaster. Most important, we will honor the Creator of this gorgeous and astonishingly intricate cosmos.

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.

The truth behind the panic.

Sondra, a single woman in her early thirties, sought psychotherapy for depression and an eating disorder. But as her therapy progressed, she began to remember episodes of sexual abuse at the hands of her father. Upon further therapy, other memories emerged, recollections of ritualistic ceremonies involving the drinking of blood, animal and human sacrifice, cannibalistic feasting, and the worship of Satan. The memories seemed vivid and real.

Sondra’s story would be chilling even if it were rare. But it is not. Thousands of patients now claim to be survivors of sexual abuse and torture carried out by satanic cults. Amidst the sudden explosion of personal testimonies and public fear about Satanism in the eighties, hideous stories of a new kind of child abuse emerged—” satanic ritual abuse” (SRA). It refers to ritually performed physical, sexual, emotional, and spiritual abuse of children by members of satanic cults. Proponents of the reality of SRA believe that thousands of children each year are being victimized in satanic rituals involving cannibalism, sexual torture, incest, bestiality, and murder. Some report that more than 100,000 “adult survivors” have undergone therapy and uncovered previously repressed memories of these abuses.

The first case of SRA to confront the American public was that of Michelle Smith. Through therapy with her psychiatrist (and later husband), Lawrence Pazder, Smith claimed to discover previously repressed early childhood memories of debilitating physical and sexual abuse by a Satanist cult, which included some members of her family. The two described her therapeutic journey in the book Michelle Remembers (1980). According to Pazder, Smith’s therapeutic experience culminated in an image of the triangular “tip of Satan’s tail” emerging on Smith’s neck. In 1980, Pazder presented a paper at a meeting of the American Psychiatric Association where he coined the term satanic ritual abuse.

Another popular book on satanic ritual abuse was Lauren Stratford’s Satan’s Underground (1988), allegedly a memoir of her involvement and escape from a Satanist cult. Like other SRA survivors, she described black masses, sexualized torture, as well as bearing three children who were sacrificed by the cult. Despite questions about the veracity of her story, Stratford continues to give seminars on the subject and has published two follow-up books.

The therapeutic community is divided over the accuracy of these repressed memories of SRA. The Journal of Psychology and Theology (JPT) devoted its entire Fall 1992 issue to the subject, with articles representing both sides of the debate. In one article, Ruth Shaffer and Louis Cozolino, both affiliated with Pepperdine University’s Graduate School of Education and Psychology, describe a typical therapeutic scenario based on their survey of 20 self-described survivors of SRA: Most survivors do not enter therapy for SRA per se, but for “pre-awareness symptoms of severe depression, anxiety, or dissociation.” The triggers for the SRA memories are usually a contemporary trauma or some “visual or auditory stimuli reminiscent of some aspect of the abuse.” Typically, patients are female and begin therapy around age 27; the therapy lasts an average of seven years, involving several therapists (usually ending with a therapist who believes both in “the reality of the abuse” and “in [the survivors’] capacity to recover”). Repressed memories are rarely exposed all at once. “Many subjects progressed from memories of sexual abuse by acquaintances; to memories of sexual abuse by family members; and, finally, to memories of ritualistic victimization.”

Shaffer and Cozolino note the remarkable consistency of the reports among survivors (even between adult and child victims). “All subjects reported witnessing the sacrificial murder of animals, infants, children, and/or adults.… The vast majority of subjects in this study reported severe and sadistic forms of sexual abuse by multiple perpetrators.” They see the consistency in the reporting as a strong argument in favor of viewing these accounts as accurate.

Another common feature of the professional literature on SRA is a diagnosis of multiple personality disorder (MPD). According to James G. Friesen, a psychologist and adjunct professor at Fuller Graduate School of Psychology, in his popular book Uncovering the Mystery of MPD (1991), children dissociate or split their personality to defend themselves from unrelieved trauma—usually sexual abuse. To complicate matters, Friesen notes in an article in JPT that “demons can disguise themselves as personalities,” especially in cases of SRA. Thus the goals of therapy also include spiritual warfare: “Alternate personalities need to be unified, and evil spirits need to be expelled.”

WHO IS TELLING THE TRUTH?

The testimony of survivors of Satanism provides compelling evidence for its grisly existence. Experts have emerged to uncover Satanism where we never knew to look. And much of their digging has been in the buried memories of SRA survivors. The question is whether the experts uncover Satanism or invent it. Can these accounts be trusted?

One important factor to keep in mind is that we cannot dismiss these stories just because they sound outrageous or unbelievable. It was not too long ago that disturbing stories of sexual abuse and incest were dismissed as fantasies. We did not allow ourselves to believe, for example, that priests or pastors or parents could sexually abuse children. Now these horrors are well-documented facts.

Also, the psychological community has established that adult experiences can trigger repressed traumatic childhood memories to emerge. Freud was the first to refer to this unconscious process of burying painful psychic memories. Critics of the SRA theory, however, maintain that some therapists, in their attempt to help clients recreate horrifying experiences, may do little more than provide an interpretive framework for a person who was abused without a Satanist connection. Childhood memories are by nature often vague and malleable.

Thus we must apply reason and biblical wisdom in determining whether there is a Satanist conspiracy to abuse and murder children. We cannot merely accept at face value accounts provided by self-proclaimed cult survivors, no matter how credible the witnesses may seem.

In Michelle Remembers, for example, Smith and Pazder provide no corroborative evidence for their shocking account. Such evidence is impossible to obtain, they argue, because the cultists “planted” disinformation, such as wrong dates, in Smith’s memory; the Satanist cult is also said to have destroyed the evidence of its crimes. Other experts go so far as to attribute to cults the ability to create particular alternate personalities in victims. According to Cozolino in another JPT article, coauthored with psychologist Catherine Gould, these personalities perform specific functions to protect the cult, such as “reporting information to the cult, self-injuring if the cult injunctions are broken, and disrupting the therapeutic process.” Thus the survivors’ accounts become, as Friesen himself admits, “unverifiable,” since any contingency can be explained away as a cunning tactic by the cult to remain undiscovered.

Still, some accounts have been discredited. After their investigation into the claims made by Lauren Stratford in Satan’s Underground, Christian authors Gretchen Passantino, Bob Passantino, and Jon Trott concluded in Cornerstone magazine that the entire story was a “gruesome fantasy.” Among the more outrageous claims made by Stratford was that she was raped by Satanists and used as a “breeder” of children for Satanist sacrifices. Although Stratford claims to have had three children during her high school and college years, the investigators could not find one witness, nor did Stratford produce a witness. The Passantinos and Trott did find people who knew Stratford during the years she was allegedly pregnant, but all claimed emphatically that she was never pregnant during that time. In fact, no evidence could be found to support her claim that she had been involved with a Satanist cult.

According to the Cornerstone article, Stratford’s story was never independently checked out and confirmed by talk shows on which she appeared, such as “Geraldo,” “The 700 Club,” or even by her publisher. They assumed its truth. After all, who could make up such terrifying experiences? In all fairness it must be said, however, her original publisher eventually did question the decision to publish her story and pulled the book from store shelves.

“What I have written in my books, I have written in the spirit of truth,” says Stratford in a response to these allegations appearing in Bookstore Journal. “If there are any errors, they are errors of memory and not lies.” Stratford’s controversial book has now been rereleased by a new publisher (Pelican), who claims the challenge to the book’s credibility was “a compilation of circumstantial evidence and petty character attacks.”

WHERE IS THE EVIDENCE?

The lack of corroborative evidence cannot be ignored. A seven-year study by the FBI concluded that there is “little or no evidence of organized satanic conspiracies.” FBI agent Kenneth Lanning, for example, confesses, “In 1983 when I first began to hear victims’ stories of bizarre cults and human sacrifice, I tended to believe them. I had been dealing with bizarre, deviant behavior for many years and had long since realized that almost anything is possible. The idea that there are a few cunning, secretive individuals in positions of power somewhere in this country regularly killing a few people as part of some ritual or ceremony and getting away with it is certainly within the realm of possibility.

“But the number of alleged cases began to grow and grow.… We now have hundreds of victims alleging that thousands of offenders are murdering tens of thousands of people, and there is little or no corroborative evidence.”

For nearly a decade, American law enforcement has been aggressively investigating the allegations of victims of ritualistic abuse. So far there is no evidence for the allegations of large-scale baby breeding, human sacrifice, and organized Satanist conspiracies.

As we watched the recent confrontation between federal agents and Branch Davidians in Waco, Texas, we could not help noticing that the press seemingly had little trouble locating defectors willing to provide details of the practices of David Koresh and his followers—this despite the fact that speaking out against Koresh could be dangerous. The availability of ex-Davidians is not necessarily surprising, as previous research has demonstrated that defection rates from deviant religions are quite high. Yet, when it comes to Satanism, a “megacult” supposedly so pervasive and sinister that the Branch Davidians pale in comparison, no one has stepped forward to lead us to an ongoing cult or to the remains of bodies used in human sacrifice, or to any other physical evidence that supports the stories of SRA.

Bob and Gretchen Passantino, who operate Answers in Action, a California-based Christian research organization, are impressed by the secrecy necessary to conceal such a widespread conspiracy. In a broad-based investigative report published in Christian Research Journal, they write, “Let’s suppose there are 100,000 adult survivors [of SRA] who represent only a small subgroup of the conspiracy. They are the ones who were not killed; eventually escaped the cult’s control; got into therapy; ‘remembered’ their abuse; and were then willing to tell others about it.… If we conservatively peg the average number of abusive events per survivor at fifty, that would give us 5,000,000 criminal events over the last fifty years in America alone. And not a shred of corroborative evidence?”

In defending themselves against their critics, advocates of the reality of SRA claim that the similarity of detail in survivor stories proves their accuracy. To assume that this is evidence, however, is to adopt “a naïve and simplistic model of contagion,” according to Frank W. Putnam of the National Institute of Mental Health.

Putnam maintains that the ritualistic-abuse community is especially sensitive to rumors because victims and experts share the same educational networks. Experts on Satanism, talk-show hosts, movie makers, and news shows share the same stories. Given that experts are trained in what to look for, it is no wonder that survivor accounts are markedly similar, as were the internal communist revelations during the McCarthy era. The same could be said of the evidence for UFOs. Hundreds of people who claim to have been abducted by aliens give remarkably similar descriptions of the space ships and aliens.

IS OUR DEVIL TOO BIG?

In order to fully understand SRA, we must realize how our culture has responded in the past to stories regarding the activity of Satanists. No matter how thin the evidence for Satanist stories, there seems to be a bias to believe them.

One example is the widely circulated story that an executive of Procter and Gamble (P&G) appeared on a popular talk show (usually said to be “Donahue”) and admitted he was a devil worshiper, and that much of P&G’s profits went to the Church of Satan. Often the information is passed along as a flier giving the date of the broadcast, an address for how to write for a copy of the transcript of the telecast, and instructions to boycott Crest toothpaste, Ivory soap, and other P&G products. The details make the story seem more than rumor.

But it is all a lie. No one from P&G has ever appeared on “Donahue,” and the company has no connections with the Church of Satan. Still, the pressure has been such that P&G felt compelled to remove its man-in-the-moon trademark from its products since some saw it as occult and thus confirmation of the company’s link with Satanism. Regarding the “Donahue” story, Ann Jenemann Smith, public-relations supervisor at P&G, says, “The rumor just won’t die.… We have publicized letters of support from Billy Graham, Jerry Falwell, and others to squelch the rumor, and we still average more than 20 calls every day about it.”

Recently a similar rumor has been circulating, involving clothing designer Liz Claiborne’s appearance on “Oprah” where she allegedly announced herself to be a Satanist. Inquiries to the show regarding a transcript are returned with a mass-produced postcard stating, in a tone that could best be described as annoyed, that Liz Claiborne has never appeared on “Oprah” or any other afternoon talk show.

Satanist conspiracy theories are not exclusive to major corporations. Numerous heinous crimes have been attributed to devil worshipers. For instance, a gruesome murder of a 39-year-old woman in Missoula, Montana, set off a chain of rumors that linked her death to a Satanist cult that was initiating a “high priesthood of Satan.” Stories were told of animal mutilations, infant sacrifices, witches chanting in the woods, and satanic plots. In one report, the police received a hysterical call from a woman who claimed her neighbor was a member of the cult who killed the victim. She was sure it was true because he had been “sacrificing dogs.” On investigation, the police learned the accused neighbor was a hunter who had hung several animal skins over his back fence to dry. Although the bizarre tales of satanic activity related to the murdered woman eventually ran their course, they made a lasting impact on many people in Missoula. The murder was later solved, and police found no evidence whatsoever that any Satanist cult was involved. Still, the local folklore is steeped in witchcraft, and the rumors live on in the minds of people with a will to believe.

In another example, a number of cattle mutilations, hundreds of miles apart in the plains states, were rumored to be the work of devil worshipers. The missing parts from some cattle were said to have been removed with “surgical precision.” In some cases, the blood appeared to have been drained from the carcasses. Speculation about the perpetrators ran the gamut from UFOs to Bigfoot. But the most common story attributed the mutilations to Satanists. Official investigations, however, revealed that the gory deaths were the result of animal predators, such as coyotes.

The crescendo of reports on Satanism in Los Angeles led the city to create the Ritual Abuse Task Force. The task force, which has been controversial since its inception in 1988, recently received front-page headlines when several of its members charged Satanists with attempting to silence them by pumping the pesticide diazinon into the air-conditioning vents of their offices, homes, and cars. Despite the fact that diazinon poisoning is easy to detect, according to the epidemiologist assigned to the case, none of the 43 supposed victims of the poisoning could provide any evidence.

WHO IS BEHIND THE PANIC?

These false reports and Rumors should not lead us to conclude that there is no such thing as Satanism in America. In fact, some people can be identified as Satanists. Furthermore, it is a fact that crimes that were committed as part of Satanist rituals, usually involving the mutilation of small animals, have been reported in the media.

Contemporary American Satanism can be traced to the late 1960s. The most celebrated Satanist church to emerge from the decade was ex-carnival worker Anton LaVey’s Church of Satan in San Francisco. While the Church of Satan has never been numerically significant (current estimates range from 2,000 to 5,000 active members), LaVey’s church has attracted considerable media attention—especially his Satanist baptisms and weddings. LaVey has made a point of being offensive in ways that have made news and brought him undeserved attention. Other Satanist churches include the Process, the Solar Lodge, and the Temple of Set, but they, too, have attracted few followers. Still, in LaVey’s own The Satanic Bible, he claims that “Satanism does not advocate rape, child molesting, sexual defilement of animals,” and no organized Satanist church has ever been linked with practices associated with SRA.

Part of the blame for the obsession with Satanism must lie with the media. While the “prestige press,” such as network news programs and national newspapers, has avoided explorations of Satanism as hard news, more sensational shows like “Donahue” and “Geraldo” have had a field day. With a broadcast every weekday, such shows require up to 250 riveting topics each year. For TV producers, the primary concern is ratings. And when it comes to Satanism, people do watch. In 1988, a two-hour, prime-time Geraldo Rivera special, “Exposing Satan’s Underground,” set record ratings of nearly 20 million people—the largest audience ever for an NBC documentary. The drudgery involved in checking facts works against the shows’ goals of ratings and profits.

But TV is not the only culprit. One of the most celebrated “survivors” of Satanism is Mike Warnke. His book The Satan Seller was released in 1973 and promoted as revealing “the demonic forces behind the fastest growing and most deadly occult religion in the world.” The book has reportedly sold 3 million copies. And for two decades, it has been cited by people inside and outside the Christian community to prove the existence of a large-scale Satanist conspiracy—that is, until recently. The self-professed ex-Satanist has been charged with fabricating his life story as a Satanist high priest (CT, Aug. 17, 1992, p. 50). Significant evidence contradicting his alleged Satanist activity was revealed by Jon Trott and Mike Hertenstein in an article in Cornerstone magazine. College friends of Warnke’s say his story of being a Satanist high priest does not line up with the life of their former buddy. Warnke has admitted to fabricating some details and to exaggerating, but he has thus far stuck to the rest of his story without countering any of the specific charges.

These and other stories have had an effect on what America thinks about this issue. A 1989 survey conducted by the Public Policy Laboratory of Texas A & M University reported that 80 percent of Texans believe Satanism is getting worse, and that it is something to worry about. Another study presented at the 1990 annual meeting of the Society for the Scientific Study of Religion revealed that more than 70 percent of today’s churchgoers agree that Satanism is spreading rapidly, that it is becoming increasingly organized, and that it is a serious threat to society. Given this context, people have little trouble believing in an organized Satanist conspiracy to sacrifice and torture children.

WHY IS IT HAPPENING?

If we are accurate in our skepticism of the extent of SRA, and of the Satanist scare generally, one very important question remains yet unanswered: How can so many well-meaning counselors, pastors, and individuals be wrong?

The answer begins with the recognition that counselors today, understanding that victim disclosures have historically been met with disbelief, are taught to listen to and accept victim accounts of abuse. More than at any time in human history, counselors are acutely aware of the symptoms, prevalence, and consequences of child physical and sexual abuse. Add to this sensitivity a societal fascination with Satanism, and distortions are bound to occur. In an interview on ABC’s “Prime Time Live,” Cory Hammond, a staff psychologist at the University of Utah Hospital and the “guru of SRA,” stated, “Therapists shouldn’t be responsible for providing evidence [of SRA].”

One explanation is that the concept of Satanism may provide a ready explanatory grid for people trying to discover the source of their psychological problems. In a workshop entitled, “Errors in the Diagnosis and Treatment of MPD and SRA,” psychologist Dane Ver Merris, of Pine Rest Christian Hospital in Grand Rapids, told the International Congress on Christian Counseling in Atlanta that many supposed survivors of SRA have psychological problems making them more susceptible to suggestions of having been ritualistically abused by Satanists.

It does not take much for imaginative individuals who have been abused to “recall” and believe that their abuse is directly connected to Satan. In coping with crisis, people tend to divide the world into simple categories—good and bad. In trying to understand confusing and horrific circumstances, any explanation can seem better than no explanation. After reading a book, viewing a show, or hearing a sermon, victims may discover a new hook on which to hang their traumatic experience. To objectify the cause of their pain can be an emotional release. This reasoning may explain, at least in part, the recent increase in victims who have “remembered” their satanic abuse. According to a report in Charisma magazine, even Lawrence Pazder, the psychiatrist who coined the term satanic ritual abuse, now sees SRA memories as more an expression of a deep level of violation caused by abusive family members than actual accounts of SRA.

HOW DO WE RESPOND?

No one wants to minimize the trauma and terror victims suffer at the nefarious hands of Satanists or anyone else. No one wants to revictimize courageous survivors by not believing their horrific stories. Depraved people do evil things. And some people do perform gruesome acts of abuse, even acts that could be called ritualistic abuse.

Physical and sexual abuse, involving cultic activity or not, is plainly evil and influenced by Satan—whether or not it is done in his name. An individual’s satanic abuse, real or imagined, should be taken seriously. The victim’s pain and trauma is real and needs healing. We are called to shepherd the sheep, not shear them.

Still, we must avoid the danger Paul warns about in 2 Corinthians: “I am afraid that as the serpent deceived Eve by his cunning, your thoughts will be led astray from a sincere and pure devotion to Christ” (11:3). We have an obligation to listen to our Christian brothers and sisters, but we also have a scriptural obligation to evaluate what they say. We cannot fall victim to sloppy thinking or judgment based on a mixture of fallacies, nonevidence, and subjectivism.” He who chases fantasies lacks judgment” (Prov. 12:11). We must rely on careful Bible study, prayer, worship, and the fellowship and wisdom of other believers while we retain our commitment to compassion for the victims.

Some will argue that a reluctance to believe these accounts and a demand for evidence plays into the hands of Satan. They will argue that the Bible teaches us that Satan’s influence is secretive and elusive. On this point, we agree (though one of the Devil’s primary tools is confusion, and with that tactic he has been very much involved in the debate over SRA). Yet the burden of proof for disturbing stories of Satan’s influence must lie with those who are making the claims. Extraordinary claims require evidence, and mere plausibility is not evidence.

Christians are by no means solely responsible for the Satanism scare. At the same time, we seem to have been especially willing to accept and spread the rumors. Christian author Jon Trott claims that when one looks at the “wads of Christian literature, tape, and airtime dedicated to alleged satanic cults, it is easy to conclude we’ve asked for it.” We seem to have the will to believe and suffer little ethical pressure when we repeat rumors that may not be true. “There are a thousand hacking at the branches of evil,” said Thoreau, “to one who is striking at the root.”

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.

For first-time visitors who are at least thirtysomething, driving into Plains, Georgia, brings back memories of TV news images in the late 1970s. They see the green-and-white Plains city-limits sign, the late Billy Carter’s gas station, and a giant, smiling peanut statue reminiscent of a Carter-Mondale campaign button that read, “The grin will win.”

Visitors carrying mental images of state dinners and Secret Service escorts may take one look at Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter’s home—modest, but obscured by a compound fence, guard house, and separate quarters for security personnel—and wonder if they have made their trip in vain. Is it really possible for just anyone to attend church with a former President of the United States?

At the Maranatha Baptist Church in Plains, the entire church is tailored, with the Carters’ help, to cater to just such an experience. Pastor Daniel Ariail and the church’s board of deacons have fashioned a ministry of hospitality around their feature attractions, Jimmy and Rosalynn. Nearly 3,000 people visited Maranatha in 1992 alone.

Visitors attending the President’s Sunday-school class crowd early into Maranatha’s fellowship hall, which seats about 90 on folding chairs. They share seats with regular attenders, including Millard and Linda Fuller, founders of Habitat for Humanity; Betty Carter, the President’s aunt; and Hugh, the President’s cousin. There is a folding partition on one side, a podium in front, and a standing map of ancient Israel. The walls are bare, the decor plain, but first-time visitors are not paying attention to any of it anyway. As the clock approaches 10 A.M., they glance at each new person entering the room, wondering if it might be Jimmy.

Ladies and gentlemen, the President

Conversations stop abruptly, flash cameras pop, and everyone looks up to see a smiling, relaxed Jimmy Carter (jacket but no necktie) enter the room. “Welcome to our church,” he says, with open arms. “I’d like to start the class by knowing where the visitors are from.”

At this moment, Carter stands among a curious mix of visitors and tourists; childhood playmates and friends; two Secret Service agents wearing blue jeans, boots, dark jackets, and facial expressions that balance intimidation with uninterest; and political supporters who can spit out the word Republican like an olive pit. At this moment, Maranatha’s main attraction—the man who made born again a household term—is about to introduce the Bible to some people for the first time.

Representing ten different U.S. states, Canada, and South Korea, the visitors, some in suits, some in jeans and sneakers, take turns talking to the President, while others continue snapping photos, smiling broadly, and whispering to one another: “That grin really brings back memories!”

“Where is Rosalynn?”

“Fourth row at the opposite end.”

Carter asks if there are any ministers present, and when one South Korean interpreter raises his hand and identifies the man next to him as a United Methodist minister and seminary president in South Korea, the President asks if the pastor will open the class in prayer. The minister does so—in Korean.

“I understood three words,” Carter confesses. “Jimmy, Carter, and amen.”

By his own admission, Carter is no theologian, though he avidly reads Reinhold Niebuhr. He seems gifted as a teacher and serves on Maranatha’s board of deacons. “I’ve been teaching Sunday school since I was 18 years old,” he says. He taught as a midshipman in the navy and as governor of Georgia. “I taught Sunday school when I was President, though it didn’t get a lot of publicity. I still teach Sunday school.”

Following a 45-minute lesson based on Isaiah 6, everyone filters from the fellowship hall to the sanctuary, several visitors stopping to introduce themselves to the Carters with comments like, “You know, I voted for you—twice”; or, “We’re Habitat volunteers in Michigan, and it’s such a pleasure to meet you.”

In the receiving line, where the Carters regularly pose for photos with visitors after the worship service, people often confess to Jimmy and Rosalynn that they have never even been in a church before. Such comments help explain the church’s special calling.

“It is a unique ministry,” says Pastor Ariail,” in which the mission field comes to you. Our mission is to see to it that visitors get more than a thrill when they come to our church.”

Sanctified Southern hospitality

Maranatha’s pastor for ten years, Ariail began looking years ago for other congregations in the United States that drew hundreds of visitors because of a celebrity member. “I found no other church where people go more or less as tourists during a worship service.”

The closest approximations were Saint Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican, Westminster Abbey, and the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C. “But tourists aren’t usually there at times of worship,” he said. “If they come to see Jimmy Carter, they attend our worship.”

Ariail wrote his doctoral dissertation, “Ministry of Hospitality,” specifically to address the unique nature of his own congregation. Ariail’s sermons focus on welcoming everyone, preaching Christ, and calling people to serve Christ through serving others. To help visitors, the Maranatha congregation has created a church bulletin that can be followed by anyone who reads English, even those who have never attended a Christian church service. Members also wear badges identifying themselves.

It is common for visitors to be approached after worship by at least 5 of the church’s 137 members with messages such as “It was really good having you today” or “I heard you say you made the drive from Clearwater. We have friends down there.”

“I think we have a wonderful ministry, because we have people coming to our church who are really dedicated Christians, such as those who work with Habitat for Humanity, and then we have a number of visitors who have never been in a church before, so it makes for a wonderful witness,” says Rosalynn.

“We have had some very special visitors,” she adds. “I remember Jimmy and I were out riding our bicycles one day, and we rode past a migrant camp and stopped to invite them to our church. And they came.”

The workers entered the church, and, as was their custom, the men sat on one side and the women and children sat on the other. President Carter stood up at the beginning of the service and, speaking in Spanish, explained that they could sit together if they wanted. One of the migrants stood to introduce the group (another Maranatha custom) and said, “We came because we were told we would be welcome here.” The moment put a lump in many people’s throats.

Jimmy and Rosalynn do more than attend church on the Sundays when they are home. Rosalynn, a former youth Sunday-school teacher at the church, is among a group of volunteers who clean the building, and she and the former President take their turn mowing the grounds in the summer months. The two also have presented Maranatha with a number of handcrafted gifts, including wooden collection plates they made together.

But perhaps the greatest gift the Carters give the church is the visitors they draw, visitors who get a sanctified dose of Southern hospitality from, of all people, a former First Family of the United States.

By Cheri Heckler-Feltz, a free-lance writer and former newspaper editor living in Urbana, Ohio.

One of our country’s crying needs is for an increased Christian witness at state universities. The example of the late Bill Wilson, my colleague and friend at Miami University, continues to inspire me.

In 1969 I came to teach history at Miami University in Oxford, Ohio, after a stint at Rutgers, the State University of New Jersey. Though not as old as Rutgers (1766), Miami University is a relatively old state university, with its establishment granted in the North-west Ordinance. Its founding date (1809) makes it ten years older than Jefferson’s University of Virginia.

Miami University is named after Ohio’s Miami Indians. (That more famous upstart in the South was named by an Ohio real-estate developer who bought a plot of beachfront in Florida.) One of Miami University’s most illustrious professors was William Holmes McGuffey, author of the best-selling Readers. McGuffey, who conducted Bible studies and preached, later became the first clergyman to teach at the University of Virginia.

As I had been the faculty adviser for InterVarsity Christian Fellowship at Rutgers, I immediately sought out Miami’s I–V adviser, William Wilson, a botany professor. I encountered a tall gentleman with white hair and a beaming countenance. “Prof” Wilson, as he was known, was a passionate and exciting teacher, who was honored as an Outstanding Miami Faculty member. Even in small classes, he lectured with vigor and fist pounding as he might from a pulpit. An inattentive student might be hit with an eraser or a piece of chalk. As he had been the catcher on the Wheaton College baseball team, he rarely missed.

Bill came to Miami in 1947 and taught here until his retirement in 1979. He forthrightly admired the Creator’s handiwork in plants and trees. And he inspired many of his undergraduate and graduate students to pursue further studies in botany.

The Oxford Bible Fellowship

Bill was responsible for establishing the Miami chapter of InterVarsity in 1958. He faithfully attended I–V’s meetings and encouraged the students with his love for the Lord and his knowledge of Scripture. On Sundays, he taught a Bible class for about 50 students.

Soon after my wife and I came to Oxford, we joined the Wilsons and others in forming a new, independent church, the Oxford Bible Fellowship, to minister to the campus and to the community. Influenced by the Wilsons’ Brethren background, four laymen took turns speaking for the first nine years of our fellowship.

The Lord has graciously blessed OBF, which was eventually able to erect a building right next to the freshman dormitories. Some 300 university students attend its two services each Sunday. An estimated 250 alumni have gone into various ministries as pastors, missionaries, and parachurch staff.

A salutary factor, which has served to promote the Christian witness on campus from the beginning of OBF’s history, is its role as a unifying factor in promoting cooperation among the various parachurch organizations—InterVarsity, Campus Crusade for Christ, and Navigators.

Another factor that has enhanced witness on this campus is the university’s rule that students, half of whom live in dormitories and half in apartments, are not to have cars on campus. The location of OBF in the middle of campus ensures them easy access to a church.

Prof Wilson’s testimony

When Bill passed to his reward last year, the dean of the college appointed me to chair a committee of Bill’s colleagues in the botany department to write a memorial to be circulated among the faculty. His colleagues and neighbors bore unanimous testimony to his sterling Christian character.

Bill preached simple, but moving sermons with a marvelously mellifluous voice. His life radiated his joy in Christ. Even after he had suffered a temporary stoppage of the heart, which led to some memory loss, Bill retained many Scriptures. Even those in the nursing home who knew him only in his debilitated state could not help being blessed by this man of God.

Bill Wilson was a marvelous example of what a dedicated Christian professor can accomplish for the Lord in a state university, and he continues to be an inspiration to all who had the privilege of knowing him.

EDWIN M. YAMAUCHI

Oneness in Christ

I appreciate the discussion on unity in the articles in the [CT Institute, “Has the WCC Kept the Faith?” April 5]. I am challenged by what I believe is a renewed work of the Holy Spirit in bringing together Christians from all varieties of backgrounds and the obvious difficulties to be overcome.

The rapid expansion of movements such as Pastors’ Prayer Summits and the de-emphasis of denominational distinctives in many mainline denominations are portents of greater cooperation between churches in seeking to win the world to faith in Jesus. I feel very positive about this trend.

One cannot ignore, however, our differences in areas such as baptism, the Eucharist, and church polity. Can our unity in Christ supersede these differences? I believe so. Jesus’ prayer for unity (John 17) is tantamount to a mandate for us to continue working towards oneness. But it is not oneness on the basis of the lowest common denominator. Our oneness must be in Christ.

Rev. Alan L. Newlove

First Baptist Church

Clovis, Calif.

In the article by Tokunboh Adeyemo, I was quoted. I am sorry to say it was a total distortion of my views, then and now. I was dealing generally with the attitude of Christians sharing with others when I made the statement, “We get involved not because we are different but because we are not.” This is a mere echo of an Exodus sentiment when the people of Israel were urged to receive the exiles because they themselves were exiles at one time in Egypt, and of Paul when a master was called to be just to the servants because he too has a master in heaven. That is, he too is a servant.

The categorical and exclusive identification of the poor with the sinned against attributed to me is a figment of Adeyemo’s imagination.

My understanding of the nature and theology of evangelism, its practice, and my concept of sin are all a matter of public record, laid out in a recent book, Evangelistically Yours (wcc, Geneva, 1992).

Raymond Fung

Hong Kong Christian Institute

Kowloon, Hong Kong

What concord hath Christ with Belial? The photo “invoking spirits of the dead” answers the story headline. We cannot be partakers of the LORD’s table, and the table of the devils. Ron Sider thinks we can learn from them?

John Schaefer

Herndon, Va.

The resurrection muddle

Thanks for airing the issue first raised in my book The Battle for the Resurrection in “The Mother of All Muddles” [News, April 5]. Several muddles call for comment.

First, there is the muddle emerging from Professor Harris’s denying Jesus rose in tangible flesh and yet claiming that Jesus had “flesh” in some kind of spiritual sense. Many New Age cults make the same claim.

Second, Millard Erickson and the other Trinity consultants have added to the muddle by pronouncing Harris’s view orthodox, even though it affirms that believers are resurrected at death while their physical bodies remain rotting in the grave. Further, they claim it is evangelical; yet Roger Nicole says Harris should write “retractions” about it. But why, if it is orthodox? Not surprisingly, Nicole revealed his prior bias in a letter admitting that being a consultant “provided some chance to vindicate a colleague and institution that appeared to be the target of unjust criticism.”

Third, the issue was muddled by overstressing irrelevant differences between the views of Jehovah’s Witnesse and Harris while overlooking their essential similarity on the point under discussion—whether Christ rose in the same body of flesh and bones in which he died.

Finally, CT has muddled the matter by labeling my efforts to expose this doctrinal deviation as “evangelical fratricide” [Books, May 27, 1991]. Then, [you] downplayed scholarly efforts by a noted ex-Jehovah’s Witness expert, Duane Magnani, and over 90 countercult groups in declaring Harris’s view unorthodox. Further, quotations by Robert Bowman and the Passantinos were selectively cited, failing to mention that they too believe that Harris holds views on the resurrection that are not orthodox.

CT and Trinity, where CT Senior Editor Kenneth Kantzer has long been associated, have cooperated to pronounce a view orthodox that has been condemned by both creed and council of the Christian church!

Norman L. Geisler

Southern Evangelical Seminary

Charlotte, North Carolina

Faith Without Wurst Is Dead

The early church evangelist Saint Casserole was perhaps the first to note the theological correlation between meeting and eating. He said the best way to get any man’s heart “strangely warmed” was by handing him a bowl of spicy chili. “The way to a Roman’s heart is through his stomach,” wrote the saint, who had hawked hot dogs to Coliseum crowds before his conversion. His treatise, Against the Weight Watchers, is now in the university library at Munchen.

But further back, sketchy traditions link each of the disciples with a special dish, such as Peter’s Tuna Surprise and the Zucchini Tacos of James the Less (which may explain why he was considered “the Less”), And at the Jerusalem council, it is said, the church deemed fish/loaf miracles unnecessary when they saw how many could be fed by these amazing covered dishes.

It shouldn’t be overlooked that some of the most important theological showdowns occurred at meetings called “Diets.” Which is just what I need after I attend enough church meetings. We can’t seem to worship, have fellowship, plan, or even talk on the phone among ourselves without also ingesting a few thousand calories. Where I live the body of Christ is having to add notches to its Bible Belt.

There is one spiritual discipline we read plenty of in the Bible and see little of in the world: fasting. I think we should convene a Diet to discuss it.

I commend you for the generally balanced treatment given to the controversy. Although I was quoted accurately in the article, only one side of my position was given. I do indeed think labeling Harris’s view “cultic” is an overstatement. At the same time, I think labeling it “orthodox” without qualification is also an overstatement. Harris’s denial of the essentially flesh-and-bone composition of the resurrection body is at odds with both Scripture and ancient creeds, and to this extent is unorthodox. Insofar as this is the central point being made by both Norman Geisler and the countercult ministry coalition led by Duane Magnani, I agree with them.

Robert M. Bowman, Jr.

Palm Bay, Fla.

I must protest: CT has done a serious disservice to Murray J. Harris by continuing even to suggest that there is substance to the charges raised against him by Norman L. Geisler. Anyone familiar with Harris’s work on the New Testament’s teaching concerning the Resurrection recognizes the care he has taken to be faithful to the full witness of Scripture.

Prof. Dale T. Irvin

New York Theological Seminary

New York, N.Y.

J. I. Packer’s “analysis” aims to diminish any undesired derogatory effects of “The Mother of All Muddles” and almost succeeds. It blunts or obscures Tim Morgan’s concessions to the criticism of Harris’s doctrines while directing attention away from teachings even Harris’s defenders acknowledge to be errors. It also skews some views of his critics and ignores all their contrary evidences and arguments.

The analysis erroneously asserts that: (1) important orthodox scholars Ladd and Westcott agree with Harris, whereas Ladd, who did agree, is widely regarded as unorthodox on the point, and Westcott did not agree; (2) Harris’s “hypothesis” “comfortably” fits the texts “as Harris, a skilled exegete, is able to show,” whereas Harris’s hermeneutics is bizarre and his theology uninformed. Only if one adopts principles of liberalism is Packer correct; (3) any “theory” of the resurrection body “must be tentative at best” on account of the mystery of it, whereas Jesus’ words were blunt, “flesh and bone”; the angel plain, “this same Jesus”; and the church’s testimony unvarying and clear. Witness creeds, sermons, funeral rituals, volumes of theology, and hymns.

Furthermore, Packer pointedly draws attention away from Harris’s central error, shared by Adventists and JWS, that man’s soul is inseparable from the body at death (monism).

Robert D. Culver

Former Chair of Theology

Trinity Evangelical Divinity School

Houston, Minn.

While CT stands by its news report, it owes an apology to its own visiting scholar, J. I. Packer. Somehow (we still don’t know how), two paragraphs (not from Dr. Packer’s pen) recounting the early church’s debate on the Resurrection were attached to his analysis of Murray Harris’s teaching. Several well-informed readers disagreed with material in those paragraphs. It should relieve them to know that Dr. Packer does as well.—Eds.

What a tragedy when countercult ministries expend precious time and funds to attack a professor at an evangelical seminary, while at the same time truly unorthodox movements such as the Mormons and the Jehovah’s Witnesses expand at a record rate in this country and abroad.

Ruth A. Tucker

Grand Rapids, Mich.

We believe our position was misrepresented, and we need to set the record straight. It is true that neither we nor our apologetics organization formally joined the Witness, Inc., coalition of cult apologetics organizations criticizing Harris’s resurrection views as cultlike. However, our reason for not taking a public stand was because we wanted to avoid anyone dismissing our authentic disagreements with Harris as simply based on our friendship with Geisler.

Bob and Gretchen Passantino

Answers In Action

Costa Mesa, Calif.

Of mediators and intercessors

The article by Timothy Jones, “Rumors of Angels” [April 5], was interestingly written and scripturally documented, but had one ironic note. He states, “When people suggest relating to angels instead of God, they repeat and yield to the medieval Catholic temptation to multiply mediators.”

Jones has made a false judgment condemned by God’s Word. If it is wrong to have intercessors of those heavenly persons who are close to God, then it is wrong for all those churches who ask for intercessory prayer of one earthly human for another here on earth.

Stephany Miano

Wantagh, N.Y.

I was delighted to see your cover story on angels, but a little less delighted to realize my book was not mentioned. Where Angels Walk; True Stories of Heavenly Visitors (Barton & Brett) has been on Publisher’s Weekly’s Religious Bestsellers list for four months, and is [currently] #1. It is the most traditional of the current angel books, leaning heavily on Scripture. I’ve taken great pains to explain to readers that a genuine angel experience never stops there, but must lead us on to God.

Joan Wester Anderson

Arlington Heights, Ill.

“Theological bungee-jumping”

James Heidinger’s editorial “Toxic Pluralism” [April 5] hit the nail on the head by highlighting the need to guard against trendy “theological bungee-jumping.” I have noticed three disturbing patterns when evangelical pastors place relevance (and sometimes pragmatism) above truth. First, disloyalty to Jesus Christ takes place when the Christian leader forms a kind of personality cult. Second, distraction often results from focusing on the methods to get the gospel out rather than the message itself. Third, disconnection of the gospel from the historical person and work of Jesus Christ is a common way to “soft-sell.” Nowadays it is rare to hear sermons on the lordship of Jesus Christ, repentance, and personal holiness.

Mrs. Theresa Ip Froehlich

Fresno, Calif.

As a mainline Lutheran pastor who graduated from a mainline Lutheran seminary, I’ve been shopping for D.Min. programs of conservative seminaries. My gut reaction to Heidinger’s editorial is that conservative seminaries also have contradictory claims when it comes to pluralism. For example, try not to believe in premillennialism or a particular brand of baptism of the Holy Spirit and apply to certain conservative seminaries. Or else try to be a high church sacramentalist in some conservative Bible college or seminaries.

Pastor David Coffin

Malinta, Ohio

Henry the greatest since Paul?

Kenneth Kantzer’s excellent eulogy of Carl Henry [From the Senior Editors, April 5] could also have added this dimension: Carl Henry is the greatest Christian theologian since St. Paul.

How can I say that? Take a poll of Christian theologians and ask: Who are the two greatest theologians since Saint Paul? The odds are they will answer, Calvin and Augustine.

Henry is at least the equal of these two giants by any measurement, except one. On this one measurement, Henry towers high above them—that is, on his undiluted, unswerving, absolute acceptance of Christ as his reference.

In their greatest apologetics, Calvin and Augustine both defaulted on that kind of acceptance. Both of these documents were political in purpose; both prescribed the church-state relationship. That being so, we could expect that these authors would refer to Christ’s classical summation: “give to Caesar that which is Caesar’s, and to God that which is God’s.” But neither ever referred to these words; political pressures made it inexpedient. These men deserted their Christ when their lives/reputations were at stake.

Carl Henry has never deserted his Christ! By this measurement alone, he deserves to be elevated to “the greatest Christian theologian since Saint Paul.”

Leo Peters

Grand Rapids, Mich.

Dallas County prison ministry

Your [News] article in the March 8 issue, “Gutting the Soul of America’s Prisons,” was good. However, it states: “In 1991, the Dallas County (Tex.) jails cut all jail positions.” This is a misleading statement. The Dallas County Sheriff’s Department hired an assistant director of programs to act as liaison between the paid volunteer chaplains of the Greater Dallas Community of Churches and the Dallas County Sheriff’s Department. When the Greater Dallas Community of Churches began to minister in the jails, there were a little over 1,000 inmates. The population has grown to approximately 7,000. The assistant director of programs was to help relieve some of the load being carried by the volunteers and also to institute new programs if possible. The volunteers were not cut by the sheriff’s department but chose to cease their operations in October 1991 due to budget constraints.

Since January 1992, the Sheriff’s Department Religious Services Office has expanded services to inmates to include distribution of over 14,000 Bibles; “special” religious programs for inmates; three hours per day of religious programming on our closed-circuit TV channel; new Bible studies and church services; and a pilot program that uses students from the religious schools in our community as interns to assist in the jail work.

When I became part of the department, the sheriff told me religious services and the things done for inmates in these areas are limited only by imagination. He has given tremendous opportunity for inmates to practice their religious beliefs.

Mike Allcorn

Sheriff’s Department

Dallas, Tex.

A “vicious slam”

One of our Baptist Bible Fellowship ministers, R. L. Hymers, was blatantly attacked by Michael Medved in his otherwise excellent article, “The Last Temptation of Hollywood” [March 8]. Dr. Hymers has a congregation of about 300 to 400 in regular attendance, which is multiracial, including Anglos, Hispanics, blacks, Jews, and Orientals—a model of a multicultural inner-city congregation, seeking to meet the needs of those who reside there. Mr. Medved sarcastically ridiculed it as “an obscure church in downtown Los Angeles”—an ugly slur against pastor and people.

Medved implies that Dr. Hymers is a “deranged religious fanatic,” a vicious slam against a dedicated man, whose sacrificial ministry to inner-city people is an example other major denominational leaders failed to follow when they moved their churches out of the inner city of Los Angeles. He moved his church into the inner city.

As a matter of fact, very little was being done to oppose the blasphemous movie The Last Temptation until Dr. Hymers, with his “sensational” methods, called attention publicly to what was happening.

James O. Combs

Baptist Bible Tribune

Springfield, Mo.

Letters from readers are welcome. If intended for publication, they must include a signature and address, and refer to a subject covered in a recent issue of CT. All letters are subject to editing for clarity and condensation for space. Write to Eutychus, CHRISTIANITY TODAY, 465 Gundersen Drive, Carol Stream, Illinois 60188.

Memories of Satanic Ritual Abuse (SRA) can be rough on a marriage. In one case we know of, the wife began to have vague memories of sexual abuse, then memories of SRA, then fears she had multiple personality disorder, and finally the belief that some of her personalities were still involved in a Satanist cult.

Her husband was conflicted. Within the marriage, he was skeptical. But among friends, he counted any expression of disbelief as evidence of betrayal and demonic collaboration. To maintain relationships, he and those around him had to believe. Call what they believed therapeutic truth.

Therapeutic truth is affirming. (Believing a patient, even without evidence, often helps a cure.) Therapeutic truth is cathartic. (Expressing dark feelings in an atmosphere of acceptance is cleansing.) Therapeutic truth is integrative. (Dark images can be faced when organized into a narrative.)

Therapeutic truth works. But unfortunately, the therapeutic pragmatism, so understandable in counseling, can trigger unhealthy Satanic panic in church, family, and law enforcement.

In contrast to therapeutic truth, journalistic truth operates by a logic of evidence. But evidence is often mixed, and eyewitnesses disagree; so journalistic truth is provisional, tentative.

For journalists, the truth about SRA is difficult to establish. Hard evidence of an extensive network of Satanists who engage in baby breeding, human sacrifice, and cannibalism has not been found. And the conspiratorial nature of the alleged cabal makes it elastic enough to swallow every objection.

Our report on Satanic Ritual Abuse is not exhaustive, but it is careful. We do believe that people do evil things to other people. We do believe that the Evil One often inspires evil deeds. But we also believe Satanic panic can harm marriages and churches. Thus we present our provisional conclusions beginning on page 18.

DAVID NEFF, Managing Editor