We have entered on a period of history in which it is becoming difficult to obtain a hearing for the New Testament and Reformed doctrine of the Word of God. For it rests on the belief in a Word which God has spoken from beyond, once for all in time, and which is absolute, ultimate, and authoritative for the Church.

It is not a truth which can be arrived at by scientific investigation, and on that account it is a scandalon to the scientist, and to this scientifically-minded generation. It is not a truth which is discoverable by the study of history (although it has been given inside history), and therefore it is a scandalon to the historian. It is not a truth which can be reached by the processes of human thought, and on that account it is a scandalon to the philosopher—“ the scandal of particularity ”—because of its claim to be absolute, authoritative, and “ once for all”.

The subject is the Bible, and its relation to the Church. Hence I shall not attempt to deal with the so-called Bible Difficulties, or with the Higher Criticism, or to develop a theory of Inspiration. I must try to give a line about the general interpretation of the Bible, as being God's Book and truly inspired, written in the Church and for the Church's use; and as written by men, because it has been God's method to reveal Himself through men. It was written by men, and tells a story which is real history; therefore we must have thorough critical investigation of the Bible. It is God's Book because it tells the story of God's saving Purpose, worked out in the history of the believing and worshipping People of God, Israel, His chosen nation. Because this story is true, we have nothing to fear from the Higher Criticism. If that Criticism has been at fault, as it often has been, it is because it has often failed to see the record, as it needs to be seen, from the point of view of believing and worshipping Israel.

For the Church is the People of God, God's Israel. As such, it has existed not for some 1900 years only, but for more than 3000 years, since the day when the Lord God redeemed it out of Egypt and made His Covenant with it.

The title is suggested by Saint Paul's phrase (Ephesians 1.4) “according as he hath chosen us in him,” that is in Christ. The object of this essay is to point out the meagre use made of the phrase and of the idea it conveys by the classic doctrine of Predestination, and to show the deplorable consequences that follow.

I. Calvin

It would of course be absurd to suggest that Calvin totally neglects the thought that Predestination is in Christ. Rather this is a presupposition in all he has to say about it, at least in this sense, that, challenged whether he held Predestination to be in Christ, he would unhesitatingly have affirmed that it was. But it is the fate of many presuppositions to fall into the background, if not into forgetfulness, and to exercise less influence than they should do. It is the view of the present writer that the Calvinist theology failed to draw fully upon the implications of the presupposition that Predestination is in Christ.

Two questions are well asked at this point: What is the relation of those elected to Christ? and: What is Christ's part in their election?

(i) Here the text which has already been quoted is cited by Calvin: We are in Christo electi, and we are in Christo adoptati (Inst.3.22.1). And in 3.22.2, the elect are said to be again “chosen in Christ.”

In its classical expression Christianity means a new life which God makes available for all who become apprentices of His Son Jesus Christ. Now sinful men cannot unaided appropriate the blessings of that life. Besides the message of the Prodigal who “ came to himself” the Gospel exhibits in the Cross divine love that has entered the far country and suffers the ordeal inevitably imposed there by human sin. Really to hear the Gospel is to respond in penitent love to the God who was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself. But how shall men hear unless there be preachers? The Gospel by God's gracious provision is brought to each new generation by those who enter into the apostolic tradition; apostolic, because in history we depend upon those who were the first eye-witnesses of Jesus and His resurrection. Nevertheless the apostles preached under the authority of the Holy Spirit who testifies to Christ and proceeds from the eternal life of the Father and the Son (see John 14.26; 15.26 f.). Paul the apostle preached in the power of the Spirit (Rom. 15.19; 1 Cor. 2.4); it was God who had given apostles to the Church, inspiring them with wisdom and knowledge (1 Cor. 12.8, 28). We find similar testimony in Eph. 3.5 (a revelation disclosed to the apostles and prophets by the Spirit); 1 Pet. 1.12, which links preaching and inspiration; and Acts where we read of men filled with the Spirit, like Stephen and Philip, going out as evangelists.

During the past quarter of a century the problem of Old Testament Theology has been the subject of discussion by a succession of well-known scholars (such as Rudolf Kittel, Marti, Gressmann, W. Staerk, Steuernagel, Eissfeldt, Eichrodt and Weiser) and still the debate shows no signs of coming to an end. In fact at the present time there are very deep cleavages of opinion among students of the Bible and among theologians, the consequent confusion of thought in the minds of many people leading to grave embarrassment. The question at issue is related to, though not identical with, the question as to what one has a right to expect of an Old Testament commentator. In this connection I need scarcely remind you that during the few years immediately before the War, more particularly in Germany and Switzerland, there was a tremendous amount of writing and discussion about the true nature of Biblical exegesis. The circumstances of the time, which included a violent attack delivered from certain directions upon the Old Testament, sufficiently explain why all this high debate should have taken place just then. The debate goes on and a solution is not yet in sight.

In all this, most serious theological issues are involved in so far as the present theological confusion means that many people, who are interested in the Old Testament and wish to make use of it for personal edification or in religious instruction, are sincerely perplexed by the results of Old Testament scholarship and so are inclined to set them on one side and get on with the business in hand in their own way.

At first sight the above title may suggest a gross presumption. For surely what is true is true, and there is an end of it. How can there be such a thing as an “understanding of truth,” let alone a Christian understanding of truth? And yet there have been such things as “theories of truth,” attempts to analyse the notion, ending perhaps as analysis so often does in the paradox of tautology, “truth is truth,” yet useful and illuminating as far as they go. But if we grant that truth-theory forms an admissible chapter in the philosophy of logic, can we talk of such a thing as a Christian understanding of truth? After all truth remains truth. And if we speak of an understanding of truth, and then predicate Christian of it, are we using the word understanding in such a way that theory is substitutable for it? There is a suggestion in the word understanding of a certain condescension towards what is understood, a pigeon-holing, as if we would like to say: “Yes, now we have got truth nicely docketed.” Whereas perhaps a “theory of truth” does no more than help us to dissolve some puzzle or puzzles connected with the notion.

So any attempt to defend the concept of a Christian understanding of truth must begin by some account of the sort of jobs truth-theories have tried to do, and then explain the kind of connection that obtains between such theories and what we call an “ understanding of truth.”

What has the missionary to communicate? It is primarily “the given Word, the essential and unvarying Gospel”, the kerygma, “ the kind of speech which is likely to draw men into the Christian community” as contrasted with “ the kind which is required for the further instruction of those already within it”. Professor John Baillie in his Whitby paper gives from the New Testament accounts of our Lord's own kerygma, and those of St. Peter and St. Paul. From these it is evident that the Christian kerygma has two parts; on the one hand, there is a statement of events that have happened or are about to happen, events that we may call “ the mighty acts of God ”; on the other hand, there is a call to repentance and faith; part is in the indicative and part is in the imperative mood. The only adequate way of stating facts and of giving commands is for human beings the spoken or written word, and the emphasis at Whitby on the Gospel being proclaimed by life does not alter the fact that it is “ by the foolishness of preaching ” as a general rule that it has pleased God “ to save them that believe ”. Dr. Van Dusen has most clearly expressed what may be called the Whitby view: “ The Word is principally to be communicated —not through ideas, or even speech but through life … Preaching, theology, the Word spoken, the Word formulated, are not to be undervalued.

The text of a lecture delivered in German by the author in September 1944 in the Church of the village of Riehen at the Conference of Members of the Church Courts and Commissions and the Officials, Presidents and Directors of the Parish Choirs of Basle, and in English in January 1948 before the Theological Faculties of the Universities of Cambridge and Manchester. The English translation is by the Rev. James W. Leitch, B.D.

We understand that if Theology in general means the systematised interpretation of Divine truth, Christian Theology means the systematised interpretation of the redemptive revelation of God in Christ. That is its subject, and its method is the exposition of Holy Scripture. Natural Theology differs from Christian Theology both in subject-matter and in method. Its subject is the revelation of God in Nature and in the world of man, and its method is the exposition of that revelation in the light of human reason and conscience. Of course this is not to say that there cannot be a Christian Natural Theology. That would be to prejudge an issue which is sharply dividing Protestant theological thought on the Continent at the present time and which is the occasion of this paper. But I think that, without prejudging that issue, it can be said that if the exposition of Nature and man's world be made in the light and under the authority of the Christian revelation, then, in a not unimportant sense, Natural Theology loses its distinctive character. For though, in that case, it continue to interrogate Nature and Man, it derives its decisive answers from the revelation in Christ, and thus becomes distinctively Christian and Scriptural.

Concluded from previous issue of the Journal 5. Lutheranism and German Protestantism1 The difference in spirit between Calvinism and Lutheranism is illustrated by Melanchthon's famous phrase: hoc est Christum cognoscere, beneficia eius cognoscere. There are of course evident dangers in the wholesale application of the principle, and later Lutheranism did not successfully avoid them. The religious egotism to which it gave rise was certainly too anthropocentric to convey an unobjectionable view of the relation between God and man. It is not by chance, as Brunner (Mediator p. 408) points out, that Ritschl is found repeatedly appealing to the principle in defence of a point of view which really regards God as the “guarantee of the value of human life”. Yet if there is any place where the principle can exert a salutary influence upon theological thought, it is in the doctrine of Predestination. Calvin avoided the pernicious consequences of the principle in virtue of his consistent emphasis on the sovereignty of God. But it would be difficult to defend Calvinism against the charge of scholasticism as it worked out the doctrine of Predestination in obedience to this emphasis, without the corrective influence of Melanchthon's principle. It can hardly be disputed that at this point faith begins to breathe more freely as it turns from the austere and highly rarefied atmosphere of Calvinism to the more robust air of Lutheranism. (i) Heppe is incontestably right in his judgment that the principle of Protestantism was to “ vindicate for the believer the certainty of the possessor of salvation in the promise and reality of God”.

There is an old custom which is to be observed in all proper churches: at the beginning of public worship the Bible is solemnly carried in and laid upon the pulpit—and then the minister follows. This is the right order of precedence; for the minister, as his name indicates, is but the servant, minister verbi divini; and it is fitting that the servant should follow the master. Further, to make his servitude more evident, the minister wears a livery. It is true, he may be a master of his servile craft, he may be called a doctor, and he may take it upon himself to wear the appropriate badges of proficiency. But his position remains essentially that of a servant whose office it is to attend upon his master, to make way for him, to do his behests.

This little bit of familiar ceremony enshrines essential truth, and it may well form the starting-point of our consideration of the scope and function of the ministry of the Word of God.

In His Foreword to an impressive volume, the Bishop of Oxford hails as the happiest ecclesiastical development of the last halfcentury the growing desire for unity among Christians. Nevertheless he finds himself profoundly disquieted when as in South India this desire leads to the formulation of plans for reunion which accept the institution of episcopacy but stipulate that no theory of it shall be obligatory. “The doctrine of the ministry is the crux of the whole matter, involving the continuous integrity of the Gospel of Christ throughout the ages.” With this Presbyterians must have some sympathy. Dr. Kirk has oversimplified the problem and, so far as Presbyterianism is concerned, quite misunderstood it, when he continues: “ Is the ministry ‘ from above ’ or ‘from below ’? Is it a gift to the Church from her Founder and Saviour, or an expedient evolved by the Church to meet the exigencies of her daily life? Has it a commission transmitted in orderly sequence from the Lord Himself, or is it commissioned simply and solely by the congregation of believers among whom the minister is to serve? ”On this issue Presbyterians stand solidly with him, except in the interpretation of the words ” transmitted in orderly sequence”. To make matters of order enter into the substance of the faith is primitive Presbyterianism, as it was no feature of original Anglicanism.

When the atomic bomb was dropped at Bikini Atoll in operation Grossroads, water on the surface of the sea rushed out from the centre of the waterspout at a speed greater than sound. Many of us will find this an apt symbol of a world that seems to be rushing headlong to disaster because men are in danger of putting the creative energies of the Lord God to evil uses; physical energy in such weapons; biological energy in the depersonalising of women and workers and citizens; and what we can only call spiritual energy in the fields of culture and political societies. The question is how we are to be enabled to reverse this process; and here the doctrine of the Spirit as holy, transcendent power ought to be relevant. It has been rightly suggested that this may be indeed “the back of the whole contribution of Christian thought to the cultural problem of our time. ” One outstanding difficulty in the way of an apologetic statement of our faith is the bias provoked at least among some sections by the scientific outlook. Indeed F. W. Dillistone goes so far as to write (The Holy Spirit in the Life of to-day p. 105) the scientist “is tireless in his search for ‘truth, ’ but again it is ‘truth’ which is contained within his own system. He insists, in other words, that ‘truth’ which cannot be apprehended by scientific methods has no real claim to the name but belongs to the realm of phantasy or wishful thinking.

A Danish friend remarked to me recently that he wished that preachers would stop attacking materialism. I found myself in complete agreement with his thesis that the current pulpit fashion of denouncing the materialism of the age is both muddleheaded and ill-timed. In the first place, it is highly questionable whether the present generation is more “materialist” (using the word in its worst sense) than, let us say, the Victorian era. What is more important, the phrase “materialism of the modern man ” o n the lips of Churchmen begs more than one question. In what sense is the Christian abstracted from the human material situation? And what is the remedy for materialism supposed to be? An abstract “ spiritualism ”? A flight from the concrete situation in which we all have to earn a living? If the answer is that by “ materialism ” the Church to-day means an obsession with things with a consequent neglect of spiritual values, we do well to ask whether that is indeed the problem of the modern world, or whether it is not more true that the real battlefield is the sphere of these spiritual values, the ideologies in whose name things are controlled.

Walter Ltithi's recent booklet,Die Soziale Frage im Lichte der Bibel, is a realistic effort to bring an informed and Reformed insight to bear on the sociological questions of to-day.

“I Believe that we have to learn anew what the Holy Scriptures say and mean by substitution of Jesus Christ and satisfaction.” These words, spoken by Karl Barth in the course of a discussion on “The Christian as Witness”, provide much food for reflection. For if there is one conclusion which had come almost to be taken for granted in enlightened Christian quarters, it is that the idea of substitution has led theology on a wrong track; and that the word “substitution” must now be dropped from the doctrine of the Atonement as too heavily laden with misleading and even false connotations. By “liberal” or “modernist” theology the idea of substitution is of course rejected out of hand. And even the theology which prides itself on being “positive” and “evangelical” and which seeks to maintain lines of communication with the great traditional doctrines of atonement is on the whole disposed to reject it. And this, not merely on the ground that it holds implications which are irrational and morally offensive, but even and specifically on the ground that it is unscriptural. Thus Dr. Vincent Taylor as a result of an exhaustive examination of the “Idea of Atonement in the New Testament” gives it as his conclusion that the idea of substitution has no place in the New Testament writings; that in fact it is opposed to the fundamental teaching of the New Testament; that even St.

There is no one word for grace in the Old Testament as there is in the New, nor are the precise lineaments of the New Testament thought manifest, but the substance of the doctrine is there. In fact there is no language that expresses so profoundly and so tenderly the unaccountable love of God as the Hebrew of the Old Testament. This is not thought of abstractly but in intensely personal terms as the active love of One who is essentially the living and loving God of Israel. The dominant thought throughout is the amazing choice of Israel by God as grounded only in His free and unlimited love and as creating a community in fellowship with God who bestows Himself upon them as Father and Saviour for ever.

The Apostolic Ministry is a volume of outstanding importance, as Professor Burleigh points out in his review, not only because of its wealth of learning but because in many respects it represents a change of front on the part of Anglicans in the realisation that it is ultimately upon theological grounds that a true conception of the ministry must rest. At the same time it cannot but be of extreme interest to the Reformed Churches in that it approaches their view that the ministry is creative of the Church. Nevertheless the precise interpretation given to that doctrine in these pages throws out a real challenge to the Reformed Churches which must be taken seriously, particularly as it has been thrown out in view of the widespread movement for re-union. I have no hesitation, therefore, in adding to the excellent review above a further discussion particularly of the more theological issues raised.

At the very outset something must be said about the methods employed by the various scholars who contribute to this book. It is refreshing to find here the combination of biblical and historical research with dogmatic construction or reconstruction. That is a method of investigation which I, for one, welcome, as being a great advance even upon the impartial scholarly method of men like Lightfoot, Hort, and Swete, and I find myself in definite agreement with them against many of their predecessors in this field in their insistence that, apart from a doctrine of the ministry, no real progress can be made through the criss-cross tradition of Church history on this subject.

The Ministry of the Church is a reprint of the reviews of the muchdiscussed volume, The Apostolic Ministry, which have appeared in The Record, to which has been added a preliminary chapter by Bishop Stephen Neill. For its scope and size it is about as good as anything could be; and it is highly satisfactory to find that progressive Evangelicals within the Church of England are rousing themselves to vigorous and effective warfare against a theory of the Church and ministry whose doctrinal implications strike at the very heart of their Evangelicalism. Something like a note of “righteous wrath” can be heard from time to time in these articles, and inasmuch as this note is sounded in the tones of first-rate scholarship, it is very welcome. The task of the writers was indeed a formidable one. They had to deal with a volume vast in bulk, heavily weighted with erudition, and abounding in historical constructions and generalisations of a very far-reaching kind. The number of effective criticisms which they have been able to make within so small a compass is really astonishing.

In the main, they have concerned themselves with three lines of attack. They have set themselves to show first of all how slender are the assured historical data from which so vast a web of theory has been spun.

As a theologian, Emil Brunner has always had two main concerns: firstly the exposition of the special revelation of God, which culminated in Christ, and its maintenance as something distinct from the general revelation of God in nature, conscience and history; and, secondly, the evaluation of this general revelation from the standpoint of faith in the special revelation. Like Barth and most of his contemporaries in theological study, Brunner started in the liberal camp, and his first important book, Mysticism and the Word (1927), was a critical discussion of the whole trend of Protestant theology since the collapse of verbal inspirationism. In it, a short study of the wide and difficult field of mysticism is followed by a detailed examination of the theology of Schleiermacher, who is taken as the chief representative of Protestant theology since the days of the Enlightenment. Although Mysticism and the Word has not been translated into English, the loss to the English-reading public is lessened by the fact that much of the argument is recapitulated with less detailed reference to Schleiermacher in Brunner's next book, The Mediator. This is divided into three parts; the first is entitled “Presuppositions”, and the second and third deal respectively with the person and work of the Mediator. In the first part Brunner argues that the usual evaluation of Schleiermacher's theological work is false. It has been customary to contrast him with Kant and Hegel. Kant found that faith in God was one of the postulates of the practical reason, or the will.