The topic, “For Such a Time As This,” may seem as difficult to identify as some of the succulent morsels offered us at this Westminster Seminary smorgasbord. What “time” are we to be thinking about? The theologians—both mature and aspiring—and those who are learning to live with such—recognize that such an innocent monosyllabic word—TIME—is fraught with philosophical and theological complexities.
I want simply to direct our attention to a brief consideration of the times in which we are living. And to facilitate that, let us shift our figure from the temporal to the spatial (time and space are indeed related concepts). We must know where we are!
When you take a trip—I mean, when you travel by car to some place you have not gone before, you may easily make a few wrong turns, and in short order find that though you have the latest road map, a powerful car and 20-20 vision to see the highway ahead, you still don’t know where you are. You need one of those annotated maps you find at rest stops along some of our interstate roads. They have a big red arrow pointing to a particular spot on the map. It says: YOU ARE HERE! The map, the road signs, and your own vision can combine now to give you proper perception. Now you know where you are and where you are going.
The Christian church, the Christian community you and I as Christians—must realize where we are if we are going to go anywhere. The obvious implication of this statement is that we don’t know, or at least we act as if we didn’t know where we are, or at what time we are living.
Incredible! Untrue! Ridiculous! We hear sermons every Sunday which tell us that we are living in the “last days.” Our minister tells us these are terrible times, and our tabloids, tax bills and teenagers testify the same. These are lawless days. Riots in the streets, riots in the universities—here a demonstration, there a demonstration…These are days of greater government control, of burgeoning bureaucracy, yet times when crime, inflation and injustice increase at a geometric rate.
There is a lusting for power—by labor leaders—not just Meany, Reuther, Hoffa with their blue collar legions,—but also Shanker’s professionals;
a lusting for power—by the militant racists who betray the people they profess to champion.
These are shocking times— —when students can riot and wrest control of administration -and then call a brief respite when the university president dies of a coronary! —when violence, sex and perversion not only are the prime ingredients of best-selling novels, but provide the raw material for “mature audience” films… —when pornography parades as the latest in art… —when its purveyors are protected by the highest court of the land.
These are times of materialism, of increasing secularism, times of godlessness, of unbridled self-interest. times of—How can you say that Christians, evangelical Christians, don’t know what time it is? These are the last days!
Such a “We-are-in-the-last-days” exponent, such a bewailer of the present predicament, does not really know where he is. He is looking at the road map. He sees towns, cities, hamlets, state highways, country roads, mountains, lakes and open spaces, but they are out there. Where he stands in relation to them, he doesn’t really know.
Evangelical Christians have made a hobby of making maps, surveying the landscape -or to return to our original sphere, “reading the signs of the times.”
Back in Urgeschichte—or to those not initiated in theological terms, two decades ago, when I was earning part of my college expenses, I worked for a Christian book store and publishing house. In the loft where the stock of books was kept, were shelves full of a volume which identified Hitler and Mussolni as anti-Christ and runner up. These weren’t selling very well in 1948!
One can expect books like “What Russia Will Do in the Next Five Years,”—latest word from the book of Daniel by a famous prophetical scholar. Or (mirabile dictu) “Israel As the Key to the Near East.” A fright-peddler from California, whose broadcasts list tragedies, freak accidents, violent storms and other disruptions, serves to demonstrate the absurd end of this perspective.
At the other end of the spectrum are the “Everything’s-going-to-be-all-right” group. They, too, exhibit a keen interest in current affairs, and a glossy monthly exhibits the equally shimmering patina of these Pollyannas. You can read the glowing report of Ronald Reagan’s deep faith, as told by his pastor. For future issues I suggest the following:
–Evangelist Graham pictured holding Richard Nixon’s coat as they emerge from a fashionable Presbyterian church…
–Nixon-Eisenhower nuptials performed by America’s most positive-thinking pastor presage hope for American youth…
–Astronauts’ Genesis reading witnesses faith of Americans, contrasts sharply with cosmonaut’s “no-God-in-space.”
Neither the sugar-coating optimists, nor the perdition consigning pessimists know where they are. Both have taken sights on the landscape—with binoculars—the one with rose-tinted lenses, the other with lenses badly scratched. But neither one will admit that he’s viewing the distance only, that the ground he’s on extends from here to there.
We must stop looking at the world as if we weren’t in it. Even our astronauts, who have had such a distinct opportunity to see the globe, could do so only because they were part of the civilization on earth. We can neither close our eyes to what is going on around us, nor act as if what we see we photograph, to view and comment on at our leisure, like a tourist with a movie camera.
What the world is like is our concern, because we are in it. We have to be aware of what is going on, not to catalogue frightful events for sermon illustrations, not to impress our parishioners with our learned analysis of philosophical trends, sociological developments and the latest governmental intrusions into private domains. We have to see what is going on, so we can know how, when, and where to speak out and act, as Christians.
We shall not attempt any further listing of the challenging, frightening or reassuring movements in our day. But let me emphasize this:
If we are disturbed by apparent threats to our freedom by the encroachment of the government, if we are pained by the crass materialism of labor leaders,
if we are nauseated by the low level of the arts, literary productions, modern music, graphic arts, theater and television, if we find that lights are Hashing all over our sensitivity switchboard as these calls come through,
then I hope the message is getting across that we are involved in this world we live in!
We are involved in it, and responsible, too. We cannot view these things in a detached way and damn those who are disturbing us.
Whose government is wasting money and threatening our freedom? What Christians have we sent to Washington, to Harrisburg? Which of us even attends a town meeting? We do not discharge our civic duty by voting once every couple of years!
The failure of Christians to be concerned with culture is most clearly dramatized in the entertainment field. For years evangelicals (and many claiming to be Reformed) have succumbed to the “touch not, taste not, handle not” philosophy Paul condemned centuries ago. The movies were an off limits area for young people, a favorite whipping post for preachers, and a challenge to those thirsting for forbidden nectar.
And now, TV has brought the flickers to the family room. There, Christians view the same films forbidden a generation ago. And in the intervening years picture making, the arts in general, and public concepts of decency, morality and “the acceptable portrayal” have changed for the worse. Christians, by and large, were not active in this area of culture, save for those engaged in making “Christian movies”—the kind that portray the great decision-drawing evangelist at work, or preach sermons from secular stones.
The abdication by Christians, from reigning in any area of life—be it the arts, government, labor or education, is retreat from battle, dereliction of duty. We dare not decry the advance of secularism, the decay of public morality, the decadence of art, when we, evangelical Christians, yes, even Reformed Christians, have confined our efforts to preaching at people, preaching a gospel which does not relate to man in all the areas of his living.
But we are not calling for self-flagellation. It is not a healthy person who blames himself for all the difficulties that have come to him. To admit our responsibility, and to share in the blame is proper only when we counter-balance this with a view of the progressive effect of evil, contaminating man’s life. Those who have left the knowledge of the true God, having suppressed the witness to the truth, have gone on to worship sticks, stones and creeping things, and have left the natural desires and affections to do that which is unseemly.
As Calvinists we neither throw up our hands, exclaiming that nothing can be done, nor delude ourselves to think that we can bring about either a utopia or a millennium by our own efforts. We realize that the sovereign God is in control, and that he has placed us here for such a time as this. Let us de-mythologize those “good old days” and look with clear, unmisty eyes at our own time. This is indeed the day that the Lord hath made for us!
How are we to live as Christians in this last third of the twentieth century? What are some guide lines that we may go by?
As Reformed Christians, we have the message which the world needs. We have to bring this to the people of our world, here and now. Christianity alone has the answer. Now this isn’t anything new, but we don’t act as if we really believed it.
The liberal, whatever his particular denominational name tag, doesn’t have a message of any real content. For he, like Diogenes, is still with the search party. His conversation is full of questions… “What do you think?” “What aspects of truth have you found?” “What is the latest from Altizer or Abernathy?” “What gems have come from Bonhoeffer or Bultmann?” At best he suggests a sharing of the insights that are his, and hope springs eternal in his breast that by constant dialogue he and those whom he meets in his daily encounters will be able to bring some good news to others also searching. His ears are keen, and he’s trained in the art of communication so that he can quickly and meaningfully relate to people, and relate the latest fads and fancies of the avant-garde theologians, sociologists and other important people-in-the-know.
Our fundamentalist brother “preaches Christ.” He is very busy holding great rallies, calling for decisions for Christ. “Just come to Christ, your troubles are over. Then go out and witness that Jesus saves, and keeps and satisfies. And may the Lord blest you real good. If you have any problems, just send for my latest book, ‘Evangelist Eddy Answers Your Questions.’ It’s free to all who send a contribution of two dollars or more.”
The Reformed Christian has the message, that men are lost without Christ, completely lost, here and now, there and forever, that Christ saves completely those who come to Him. He renews their hearts, changes their direction, makes them anxious to conquer all of life for Him. No part of living is viewed apart from Christ. The Reformed Christian has the world-and-life view!
This is our Christian philosophy, or theory. But putting it into practice is where the difficulty comes. We have made some beginnings; there have been some miserable failures, and there is much yet to do.
We have a message, “a story to tell to the nations,” as one hymn puts it. When missionaries are sent to a foreign country they learn the language, they become acquainted with the customs, they adopt t he dress of the people, and live with them. They don’t expect that they will be very effective if they hardly know the tongue of the tribe. They know they won’t have rapport with the people if they act superior, distant, Western.
Why, then, are we trying to reach modern Americans without speaking their language? Do we really expect people to flock to church on Sunday because, like the mountains, our churches are just there? Are we surprised that much of society is alienated from us, when we sit out in the suburbs apart from, and above, the cliff dwellers and ghetto prisoners?
Now I grant you that “communicate” is an overworked word today. And to say that we must communicate involves certain philosophic and apologetic difficulties. But if you say that we must preach, because the gospel is to be proclaimed, or heralded, I ask, “What did the ancient herald do?” Didn’t he proclaim the message in the language the people knew?
In II Kings, in the eighteenth chapter (see especially v. 26) we have a case in point. When Rabshekah, herald of Sennacherib, came to Jerusalem, he spoke in Hebrew, the people’s tongue, not in Aramaic, which the king’s officials alone could understand. Let me say to each of you aspiring preachers here,
Verily I certify to thee, indeed such activity characterized yon herald. And might I be so bold as to bring to thy remembrance that it behooveth thee, from this ensample to take heed. Thou must to the quick, and not to the departed speak. Yea, it is imperative that thou also thy compatriots warn, thy kinsmen and even those, betimes, of thine own household, of the impending doom, the signal and certain peril attendant upon inattention to the words of the herald, as the very words of the one he doth represent.
Clarity of speaking is not to be identified with the use of precise theological terminology. At a summer Bible camp (or teen-ager’s, a fellow alumnus expatiated on “ethico-religious sonship in Christ,” “preredemptive special revelation,” “the necessity of affirming both definitive and progressive sanctification,” and “the significance of the post-diluvian Noachian covenant,” and, for good measure, warned against “making synthetic judgments a priori.” To cover his own lack of comprehension, a baffled parishioner might have exclaimed that this minister was “deep.” But the teen-agers there simply “turned him off.”
Let’s stop talking to ourselves and speak to the people, where they are, in language that they understand! To use theological jargon in preaching is but to demonstrate our distance from the idiom and language of the people. The person in the pew doesn’t read Geerhardus Vas for his daily devotions! Don’t we really believe that the Christian minister can “tell it like it is?” Then let’s do just that! Let’s speak out. If we have had inferiority feelings as a minority, see how minorities are making themselves heard and felt today.
Let us speak, but not with an air of superiority, not with a take-it-or-leave-it attitude. Let us speak with feeling, with meaning. with compassion. You and I like to think that someone is interested in us. We have a need to be needed, to be appreciated, to be loved. And despite all the sophistication of our times, the basic needs of people remain the same. Moderns may display a veneer of independence, of mobility, of indifference to others, but underneath they have the same knotty problems their ancestors had: how to find meaning for themselves, how to get along with their neighbors, how to relate to their world.
Compassion must characterize our conversation. And here I ask your permission to use this term in the old sense; not just our speech, but our whole manner of living. We as Calvinists have not been renowned for our warmth. Intellectualism, arrogant indifference and remoteness have often been laid to our charge, and not without grounds. The spectre of professionalism, with high regard for office and dignity, and minimal concern for people as persons, haunts our clergy.
If we are to meet the challenge of our times, if we arc to relate to our environment, we must rediscover people. We must take an interest in them not as objects, not as parishioners—present or potential—but as persons, individuals—each with his own problems, with his private cares, with his particular abilities. We have set up some distinctions that might well stand re-evaluating. We’ve drawn a line between the proper task of the church as an institution and that which is the concern of the Christian individual, or Christians as members of the kingdom. The church is to take care of the poor—its own poor—through the diaconate. “Depart, be ye warmed and clothed,” we say to the others. Is there room for more extensive coverage of the diaconal umbrella? If there is no proper ecclesiastical agency, do we then forget about the physically impoverished, the economically deprived, the culturally famished?
Automation, computerization and associated advanced techniques are producing a twentieth century industrial revolution. Routine clerical work is reduced to seconds. Factories which were full of men are depopulated as machines run machines, and the workers are freed from their former drudgery. Fewer work hours, more leisure time, but greater boredom both with work and leisure.
Our cities are expanding so much that they are crowding one another. Soon three-quarters of the population will live in one of three megalopolises—Northeast, Lake Central, or West Coast. Increased mobility of the population will have compounded the restlessness-rootlessness-insecurity syndrome which is even now a problem.
Are these challenges which the Christian church and community recognize and arc ready to meet
–with the message of God’s truth, of comfort, of meaning for life.
–and with the warm embrace of fellowship?
Is “the communion of the saints” a hollow phrase today? When churches are congregations, conglomerates of people thrown together for an hour or two on Sunday, the warmth, the concern, the genuine interest in one another, which characterized the early church is conspicuous by its absence. “Communion” is then prostituted in Corinthian-like cliques, or is hypostatized and ossified in the professional pastor–counsellor who deals with the end result—the pressing problems of the lack of true communion among saints.
For such a time as this, Nehemiahs are needed!
Men of vision and prayer,
–of ability and devotion,
–who will dedicate themselves to rebuilding the walls of Zion,
–who will labor with trowel, defend with sword.
–who will inspire others, unafraid of working themselves,
–who are not terrified by the times, but are galvanized by them. And the walls will be finished if the people have a mind to work.
John M. Zinkand, Ph.D., associate professor of O.T., Westminster Theological Seminary, Philadelphia, PA.
I want simply to direct our attention to a brief consideration of the times in which we are living. And to facilitate that, let us shift our figure from the temporal to the spatial (time and space are indeed related concepts). We must know where we are!
When you take a trip—I mean, when you travel by car to some place you have not gone before, you may easily make a few wrong turns, and in short order find that though you have the latest road map, a powerful car and 20-20 vision to see the highway ahead, you still don’t know where you are. You need one of those annotated maps you find at rest stops along some of our interstate roads. They have a big red arrow pointing to a particular spot on the map. It says: YOU ARE HERE! The map, the road signs, and your own vision can combine now to give you proper perception. Now you know where you are and where you are going.
The Christian church, the Christian community you and I as Christians—must realize where we are if we are going to go anywhere. The obvious implication of this statement is that we don’t know, or at least we act as if we didn’t know where we are, or at what time we are living.
Incredible! Untrue! Ridiculous! We hear sermons every Sunday which tell us that we are living in the “last days.” Our minister tells us these are terrible times, and our tabloids, tax bills and teenagers testify the same. These are lawless days. Riots in the streets, riots in the universities—here a demonstration, there a demonstration…These are days of greater government control, of burgeoning bureaucracy, yet times when crime, inflation and injustice increase at a geometric rate.
There is a lusting for power—by labor leaders—not just Meany, Reuther, Hoffa with their blue collar legions,—but also Shanker’s professionals;
a lusting for power—by the militant racists who betray the people they profess to champion.
These are shocking times— —when students can riot and wrest control of administration -and then call a brief respite when the university president dies of a coronary! —when violence, sex and perversion not only are the prime ingredients of best-selling novels, but provide the raw material for “mature audience” films… —when pornography parades as the latest in art… —when its purveyors are protected by the highest court of the land.
These are times of materialism, of increasing secularism, times of godlessness, of unbridled self-interest. times of—How can you say that Christians, evangelical Christians, don’t know what time it is? These are the last days!
Such a “We-are-in-the-last-days” exponent, such a bewailer of the present predicament, does not really know where he is. He is looking at the road map. He sees towns, cities, hamlets, state highways, country roads, mountains, lakes and open spaces, but they are out there. Where he stands in relation to them, he doesn’t really know.
Evangelical Christians have made a hobby of making maps, surveying the landscape -or to return to our original sphere, “reading the signs of the times.”
Back in Urgeschichte—or to those not initiated in theological terms, two decades ago, when I was earning part of my college expenses, I worked for a Christian book store and publishing house. In the loft where the stock of books was kept, were shelves full of a volume which identified Hitler and Mussolni as anti-Christ and runner up. These weren’t selling very well in 1948!
One can expect books like “What Russia Will Do in the Next Five Years,”—latest word from the book of Daniel by a famous prophetical scholar. Or (mirabile dictu) “Israel As the Key to the Near East.” A fright-peddler from California, whose broadcasts list tragedies, freak accidents, violent storms and other disruptions, serves to demonstrate the absurd end of this perspective.
At the other end of the spectrum are the “Everything’s-going-to-be-all-right” group. They, too, exhibit a keen interest in current affairs, and a glossy monthly exhibits the equally shimmering patina of these Pollyannas. You can read the glowing report of Ronald Reagan’s deep faith, as told by his pastor. For future issues I suggest the following:
–Evangelist Graham pictured holding Richard Nixon’s coat as they emerge from a fashionable Presbyterian church…
–Nixon-Eisenhower nuptials performed by America’s most positive-thinking pastor presage hope for American youth…
–Astronauts’ Genesis reading witnesses faith of Americans, contrasts sharply with cosmonaut’s “no-God-in-space.”
Neither the sugar-coating optimists, nor the perdition consigning pessimists know where they are. Both have taken sights on the landscape—with binoculars—the one with rose-tinted lenses, the other with lenses badly scratched. But neither one will admit that he’s viewing the distance only, that the ground he’s on extends from here to there.
We must stop looking at the world as if we weren’t in it. Even our astronauts, who have had such a distinct opportunity to see the globe, could do so only because they were part of the civilization on earth. We can neither close our eyes to what is going on around us, nor act as if what we see we photograph, to view and comment on at our leisure, like a tourist with a movie camera.
What the world is like is our concern, because we are in it. We have to be aware of what is going on, not to catalogue frightful events for sermon illustrations, not to impress our parishioners with our learned analysis of philosophical trends, sociological developments and the latest governmental intrusions into private domains. We have to see what is going on, so we can know how, when, and where to speak out and act, as Christians.
We shall not attempt any further listing of the challenging, frightening or reassuring movements in our day. But let me emphasize this:
If we are disturbed by apparent threats to our freedom by the encroachment of the government, if we are pained by the crass materialism of labor leaders,
if we are nauseated by the low level of the arts, literary productions, modern music, graphic arts, theater and television, if we find that lights are Hashing all over our sensitivity switchboard as these calls come through,
then I hope the message is getting across that we are involved in this world we live in!
We are involved in it, and responsible, too. We cannot view these things in a detached way and damn those who are disturbing us.
Whose government is wasting money and threatening our freedom? What Christians have we sent to Washington, to Harrisburg? Which of us even attends a town meeting? We do not discharge our civic duty by voting once every couple of years!
The failure of Christians to be concerned with culture is most clearly dramatized in the entertainment field. For years evangelicals (and many claiming to be Reformed) have succumbed to the “touch not, taste not, handle not” philosophy Paul condemned centuries ago. The movies were an off limits area for young people, a favorite whipping post for preachers, and a challenge to those thirsting for forbidden nectar.
And now, TV has brought the flickers to the family room. There, Christians view the same films forbidden a generation ago. And in the intervening years picture making, the arts in general, and public concepts of decency, morality and “the acceptable portrayal” have changed for the worse. Christians, by and large, were not active in this area of culture, save for those engaged in making “Christian movies”—the kind that portray the great decision-drawing evangelist at work, or preach sermons from secular stones.
The abdication by Christians, from reigning in any area of life—be it the arts, government, labor or education, is retreat from battle, dereliction of duty. We dare not decry the advance of secularism, the decay of public morality, the decadence of art, when we, evangelical Christians, yes, even Reformed Christians, have confined our efforts to preaching at people, preaching a gospel which does not relate to man in all the areas of his living.
But we are not calling for self-flagellation. It is not a healthy person who blames himself for all the difficulties that have come to him. To admit our responsibility, and to share in the blame is proper only when we counter-balance this with a view of the progressive effect of evil, contaminating man’s life. Those who have left the knowledge of the true God, having suppressed the witness to the truth, have gone on to worship sticks, stones and creeping things, and have left the natural desires and affections to do that which is unseemly.
As Calvinists we neither throw up our hands, exclaiming that nothing can be done, nor delude ourselves to think that we can bring about either a utopia or a millennium by our own efforts. We realize that the sovereign God is in control, and that he has placed us here for such a time as this. Let us de-mythologize those “good old days” and look with clear, unmisty eyes at our own time. This is indeed the day that the Lord hath made for us!
How are we to live as Christians in this last third of the twentieth century? What are some guide lines that we may go by?
As Reformed Christians, we have the message which the world needs. We have to bring this to the people of our world, here and now. Christianity alone has the answer. Now this isn’t anything new, but we don’t act as if we really believed it.
The liberal, whatever his particular denominational name tag, doesn’t have a message of any real content. For he, like Diogenes, is still with the search party. His conversation is full of questions… “What do you think?” “What aspects of truth have you found?” “What is the latest from Altizer or Abernathy?” “What gems have come from Bonhoeffer or Bultmann?” At best he suggests a sharing of the insights that are his, and hope springs eternal in his breast that by constant dialogue he and those whom he meets in his daily encounters will be able to bring some good news to others also searching. His ears are keen, and he’s trained in the art of communication so that he can quickly and meaningfully relate to people, and relate the latest fads and fancies of the avant-garde theologians, sociologists and other important people-in-the-know.
Our fundamentalist brother “preaches Christ.” He is very busy holding great rallies, calling for decisions for Christ. “Just come to Christ, your troubles are over. Then go out and witness that Jesus saves, and keeps and satisfies. And may the Lord blest you real good. If you have any problems, just send for my latest book, ‘Evangelist Eddy Answers Your Questions.’ It’s free to all who send a contribution of two dollars or more.”
The Reformed Christian has the message, that men are lost without Christ, completely lost, here and now, there and forever, that Christ saves completely those who come to Him. He renews their hearts, changes their direction, makes them anxious to conquer all of life for Him. No part of living is viewed apart from Christ. The Reformed Christian has the world-and-life view!
This is our Christian philosophy, or theory. But putting it into practice is where the difficulty comes. We have made some beginnings; there have been some miserable failures, and there is much yet to do.
We have a message, “a story to tell to the nations,” as one hymn puts it. When missionaries are sent to a foreign country they learn the language, they become acquainted with the customs, they adopt t he dress of the people, and live with them. They don’t expect that they will be very effective if they hardly know the tongue of the tribe. They know they won’t have rapport with the people if they act superior, distant, Western.
Why, then, are we trying to reach modern Americans without speaking their language? Do we really expect people to flock to church on Sunday because, like the mountains, our churches are just there? Are we surprised that much of society is alienated from us, when we sit out in the suburbs apart from, and above, the cliff dwellers and ghetto prisoners?
Now I grant you that “communicate” is an overworked word today. And to say that we must communicate involves certain philosophic and apologetic difficulties. But if you say that we must preach, because the gospel is to be proclaimed, or heralded, I ask, “What did the ancient herald do?” Didn’t he proclaim the message in the language the people knew?
In II Kings, in the eighteenth chapter (see especially v. 26) we have a case in point. When Rabshekah, herald of Sennacherib, came to Jerusalem, he spoke in Hebrew, the people’s tongue, not in Aramaic, which the king’s officials alone could understand. Let me say to each of you aspiring preachers here,
Verily I certify to thee, indeed such activity characterized yon herald. And might I be so bold as to bring to thy remembrance that it behooveth thee, from this ensample to take heed. Thou must to the quick, and not to the departed speak. Yea, it is imperative that thou also thy compatriots warn, thy kinsmen and even those, betimes, of thine own household, of the impending doom, the signal and certain peril attendant upon inattention to the words of the herald, as the very words of the one he doth represent.
Clarity of speaking is not to be identified with the use of precise theological terminology. At a summer Bible camp (or teen-ager’s, a fellow alumnus expatiated on “ethico-religious sonship in Christ,” “preredemptive special revelation,” “the necessity of affirming both definitive and progressive sanctification,” and “the significance of the post-diluvian Noachian covenant,” and, for good measure, warned against “making synthetic judgments a priori.” To cover his own lack of comprehension, a baffled parishioner might have exclaimed that this minister was “deep.” But the teen-agers there simply “turned him off.”
Let’s stop talking to ourselves and speak to the people, where they are, in language that they understand! To use theological jargon in preaching is but to demonstrate our distance from the idiom and language of the people. The person in the pew doesn’t read Geerhardus Vas for his daily devotions! Don’t we really believe that the Christian minister can “tell it like it is?” Then let’s do just that! Let’s speak out. If we have had inferiority feelings as a minority, see how minorities are making themselves heard and felt today.
Let us speak, but not with an air of superiority, not with a take-it-or-leave-it attitude. Let us speak with feeling, with meaning. with compassion. You and I like to think that someone is interested in us. We have a need to be needed, to be appreciated, to be loved. And despite all the sophistication of our times, the basic needs of people remain the same. Moderns may display a veneer of independence, of mobility, of indifference to others, but underneath they have the same knotty problems their ancestors had: how to find meaning for themselves, how to get along with their neighbors, how to relate to their world.
Compassion must characterize our conversation. And here I ask your permission to use this term in the old sense; not just our speech, but our whole manner of living. We as Calvinists have not been renowned for our warmth. Intellectualism, arrogant indifference and remoteness have often been laid to our charge, and not without grounds. The spectre of professionalism, with high regard for office and dignity, and minimal concern for people as persons, haunts our clergy.
If we are to meet the challenge of our times, if we arc to relate to our environment, we must rediscover people. We must take an interest in them not as objects, not as parishioners—present or potential—but as persons, individuals—each with his own problems, with his private cares, with his particular abilities. We have set up some distinctions that might well stand re-evaluating. We’ve drawn a line between the proper task of the church as an institution and that which is the concern of the Christian individual, or Christians as members of the kingdom. The church is to take care of the poor—its own poor—through the diaconate. “Depart, be ye warmed and clothed,” we say to the others. Is there room for more extensive coverage of the diaconal umbrella? If there is no proper ecclesiastical agency, do we then forget about the physically impoverished, the economically deprived, the culturally famished?
Automation, computerization and associated advanced techniques are producing a twentieth century industrial revolution. Routine clerical work is reduced to seconds. Factories which were full of men are depopulated as machines run machines, and the workers are freed from their former drudgery. Fewer work hours, more leisure time, but greater boredom both with work and leisure.
Our cities are expanding so much that they are crowding one another. Soon three-quarters of the population will live in one of three megalopolises—Northeast, Lake Central, or West Coast. Increased mobility of the population will have compounded the restlessness-rootlessness-insecurity syndrome which is even now a problem.
Are these challenges which the Christian church and community recognize and arc ready to meet
–with the message of God’s truth, of comfort, of meaning for life.
–and with the warm embrace of fellowship?
Is “the communion of the saints” a hollow phrase today? When churches are congregations, conglomerates of people thrown together for an hour or two on Sunday, the warmth, the concern, the genuine interest in one another, which characterized the early church is conspicuous by its absence. “Communion” is then prostituted in Corinthian-like cliques, or is hypostatized and ossified in the professional pastor–counsellor who deals with the end result—the pressing problems of the lack of true communion among saints.
For such a time as this, Nehemiahs are needed!
Men of vision and prayer,
–of ability and devotion,
–who will dedicate themselves to rebuilding the walls of Zion,
–who will labor with trowel, defend with sword.
–who will inspire others, unafraid of working themselves,
–who are not terrified by the times, but are galvanized by them. And the walls will be finished if the people have a mind to work.
John M. Zinkand, Ph.D., associate professor of O.T., Westminster Theological Seminary, Philadelphia, PA.