Chapter VIII: Perils
by
Edward John Carnell
Orthodoxyi is plagued by perils as well as difficultiesii, and the perils
are even more disturbing than the difficulties. When orthodoxy slights its
difficulties, it elicits criticism; but when it slights its perils, it
elicits scorn. The perils are of two sorts general and specific. The general
perils include ideological thinking, a highly censorious spirit, and a
curious tendency to separate from the life of the church. The specific peril
is the ease with which orthodoxy converts to fundamentalism. _Fundamentalism
is orthodoxy gone cultic._
_1. Fundamentalism_
When we speak of fundamentalism, however, we must distinguish between the
movement and the mentality. The fundamentalist movement was organized
shortly after the turn of the twentieth century. When the tidal wave of
German higher criticism engulfed the church, a large company of orthodox
scholars rose to the occasion. They sought to prove that modernism and
Biblical Christianity were incompatible. In this way the fundamentalist
movement preserved the faith once for all delivered to the saints. Its
‘rugged bursts of individualism” were among the finest fruits of the
Reformation.
But the fundamentalist movement made at least one capital mistake, and this
is why it converted from a movement to a mentality. Unlike the Continental
Reformers and the English Dissenters, the fundamentalists failed to connect
their convictions with the classical creeds of the church. Therefore, when
modernism collapsed, the fundamentalist movement became an army without a
cause. Nothing was left but the mentality of fundamentalism, and this
mentality is orthodoxy’s gravest peril.
The mentality of fundamentalism is dominated by ideological thinking.
Ideological thinking is rigid intolerant, and doctrinaire; it sees
principles everywhere, and all principles come in clear tones of black and
white; it exempts itself from the limits that original sin places on
history; it wages holy wars without acknowledging the elements of pride and
personal interest that prompt the call to battle; it creates new evils while
trying to correct old ones.
The fundamentalists’ crusade against the Revised Standard Version
illustrates the point. The fury did not stem from a scholarly conviction
that the version offends Hebrew and Greek idioms, for ideological thinking
operates on far simpler criteria. First, there were modernists on the
translation committee, and modernists corrupt whatever they touch. It does
not occur to fundamentalism that translation requires only personal honesty
and competent scholarship. Secondly, the Revised Standard Version’s
copyright is held by the Division of Christian Education of the National
Council of the Churches of Christ. If a fundamentalist used the new version
he might give aid and comfort to the National Council and that, on his
principles would be sin. By the same token, of course, a fundamentalist
would not even buy groceries from a modernist. But ideological thinking is
never celebrated for its consistency.
_2. J. Gresham Machen_
The mentality of fundamentalism sometimes crops up where one would lease
expect it; and there is no better illustration of this than the inimitable
new Testament scholar, J. Gresham Machen. Machen was an outspoken critic of
the fundamentalist movement. He argued with great force that Christianity is
a system, not a list of fundamentals. The fundamentals include the virgin
birth, Christ’s deity and miracles, the atonement, the resurrection, and the
inspiration of the Bible. But this list does not even take in the specific
issues of the Protestant Reformation. Roman Catholicism easily falls within
the limits of fundamentalism.
While Machen was a foe of the fundamentalist movement, he was a friend of
the fundamentalist mentality, for he took an absolute stand on a relative
issue, and the wrong issue at that.
Machen gained prominence through his litigations with the Presbyterian
Church U.S.A. He contended that when the church has modernists in its
agencies and among its officially supported missionaries, a Christian has no
other course than to withdraw support. So Machen promptly set up ‘The
Independent Board for Presbyterian Foreign Missions”; and with equal
promptness the General Assembly ordered the Board dissolved. Machen
disobeyed the order on the conviction that he could appeal from the General
Assembly to the Constitution of the church. But this conviction traced to
ideological thinking, for if a federal system is to succeed, supreme
judicial power must be vested in one court. This is federalism’s answer to
the threat of anarchy. Wrong decisions by a court are not irremediable; but
until due process of law effects a reversal, a citizen must obey or be
prosecuted.
Machen became so fixed on the evil of modernism that he did not see the evil
of his fixation prompted him to follow a course that eventually offended the
older and wiser Presbyterians. These men knew that nothing constructive
would be gained by defying the courts of the church. Perhaps the General
Assembly had made a mistake; but until the action was reversed by due
process of law, obedience was required. No individual Presbyterian can
appeal from the General Assembly to the Constitution, and to think that he
can is cultic.
Ideological thinking prevented Machen from seeing that the issue under trial
was _the nature of the church_, not the doctrinal incompatibility of
orthodoxy and modernism. Does the church become apostate when it has
modernists in its agencies and among its officially supported missionaries?
The older Presbyterians knew enough about Reformed ecclesiology to answer
this in the negative. Unfaithful ministers do _not_ render the church
apostate. ” Dreadful are those descriptions in which Isaiah, Jeremiah, Joel,
Habakkuk, and others, deplore the disorders of the church of Jerusalem.
There was such general and extreme corruption in the people, in the
magistrates, and in the priests, that Isaiah does not hesitate to compare
Jerusalem to Sodom and Gomorrah. Religion was partly despised, partly
corrupted. Their manners were generally disgraced by thefts, robberies,
treacheries, murders, and similar crimes. Nevertheless, the prophets on this
account neither raised themselves new churches, nor built new altars for the
oblation of separate sacrifices; but whatever were the characters of the
people, yet because they considered that God had deposited his word among
that nation, and instituted the ceremonies in which he was there worshiped,
they lifted up pure hands to him even in the congregation of the impious. If
they had thought that they contracted any contagion from these services,
surely they would have suffered a hundred deaths rather than have permitted
themselves to be dragged to them. There was nothing therefore to prevent
their departure from them, but the desire of preserving the unity of the
church. But if the holy prophets were restrained by a sense of duty from
forsaking the church on account of the numerous and enormous crimes which
were practiced, not by a few individuals, but almost by the whole nation-it
is extreme arrogance in us, if we presume immediately to withdraw from the
communion of a church where the conduct of all members is not compatible
either with our judgment, or even with the Christian profession.” 1
Machen thought it thought it would be easy to purify the church. All one had
to do was to withdraw from modernists; the expedient was as simple as that.
‘On Thursday, June 11, 1936,” said Machen to his loyal remnant, “the hopes
of many long years were realized. We became members, at last, of a true
Presbyterian church.” It was not long, however, before Machen’s true church
was locked in the convulsions of internal strife. The prophecy of the older
Presbyterians was fulfilled. Since Machen had shaken off the sins of
modernists, but not the sins of those who were proud they were not
modernists, the separatists fondly imagined themselves more perfectly
delivered from heresy than the facts justified. This illusion spawned fresh
resources of pride and pretense. The criteria of Christian fellowship
gradually became more exacting than Scripture, and before long Machen
himself was placed under suspicion. He had not taken his reformation far
enough: the church was not yet true. This time the issue was not modernism;
the issue, ostensibly, was dispensationalism and Christian liberty. And
before this quarrel ended, a _second_ true church was founded.
Still, no classical effort was made to define the nature of the church. This
is how the mentality of fundamentalism operates. Status by negation, not
precise theological inquiry, is the first order of business. When there are
no modernists from which to withdraw, fundamentalists compensate by
withdrawing from one another.
Machen tried to blend the classical view of the covenant with a separatist
view of the covenant people. He honored Reformed doctrine, but not the
Reformed doctrine of the church. This inconsistency had at least two
effects: _first_, it encouraged Machen’s disciples to think that the
conditions of Christian fellowship could be decided by subjective criteria;
_secondly_, it planted the seeds of anarchy. If Reformed theology could not
define the nature of the church, how could it define the nature of anything
else? The result was a subtle reversion to the age of the Judges: each man
did what was right in his own eyes. Rebellion against the courts of the
church converted to rebellion against the wisdom of the ages and the counsel
of the brethren.
_3. Dispensationalism _
Having drifted from the classical creeds of the church, the separatist is
prey to theological novelty. Most of Machen’s immediate disciples were
shielded from this threat by their orientation in Calvinism, but
fundamentalism in general did not fare so well. Dispensationalism filled the
vacuum created by the loss of the historic creeds.
Dispensationalism was formulated by one of the nineteenth-century separatist
movements, the Plymouth Brethren. Hitherto, all Christians had believed that
the church fulfills the prophecies of the Old Testament, and that the future
of saved Jews falls within the general life of the church. Dispensationalism
overturned this time-tested confession by contending that the church is only
an interim period between two Jewish economies, the Old Testament and the
millennium.
While dispensationalism sincerely tries to honor the distinctives of
Christianity, in practice it often honors the distinctives of Judaism. This
is an ironic reversal. ” It is strange … that the unbelieving Jews should
be represented as nearly right in their interpretation of the prophecies
respecting the Messiah. We know that the whole, or very nearly the whole, of
the nation looked for a temporal deliverance-for a Christ who would be a
triumphant conqueror, to deliver them out of the hands of their temporal
enemies. We know that it was this strong expectation _that led most of them
to reject Jesus_; and that they were buoyed up, especially during the last
siege, with the hope of a Christ coming to deliver them; and that this
character was claimed by several pretenders, who accordingly obtained
numerous followers. Now, according to the above scheme, Christ is to come as
a victorious temporal deliverer of the Jews, and is to fulfill the
prophecies just in the sense in which they have always understood them. If
so, those who rejected Jesus were, on the whole, nearly right in their
interpretation of the prophecies, and were only mistaken as to the time;
which is very much what the Jews hold at this day.” 2
Having withdrawn from the general theological dialogue, the
dispensationalist has few active checks against the pretense of ideological
pride. As a result, he imagines that the distinctives of dispensationalism
are more firmly established than they really are. This illusion prompts him
to fight major battles over minor issues. If it comes to it, he is not
unwilling to divide the church on whether the rapture occurs before or after
the tribulation. This is straight-line cultic conduct, for a cursory
examination of Philip Schaff’s _Creeds of Christendom_ will show that the
church has never made the details of eschatology a test of Christian
fellowship. The dispensationalist is willing to go it alone because he is
prompted by the counsels of ideological thinking. He compares Biblical
doctrines to a line of standing dominoes: topple any one domino and the
entire line falls. On such a scheme the time of the rapture is as crucial to
faith as the substitutionary atonement, for any one doctrine analytically
includes all other doctrines. This argument, of course, is a tissue of
fallacies. It violates the most elementary canons of Biblical hermeneutics.
When separatists flee from the tyranny of the church, they end with a new
tyranny all their own; for there is always a demagogue on hand to decide who
is virtuous and who is not. His strategies are pathetically familiar: “
Things are in terrible shape; errorists are everywhere. The true faith is
being threatened; my own life is in danger. Something must be done; some
courageous person must volunteer. I’m free; I’m ready; I’m willing Oh, yes,
you may subscribe to my paper and keep up with the _real_ truth. Three
dollars will enroll you in my movement, and for $5.00 you may have a copy of
my latest book.”
_4. Intellectual Stagnation_
When orthodoxy says that the Bible is the only rule of faith and practice,
the fundamentalist promptly concludes that everything worth knowing is in
the Bible. The result is a withdrawal from the dialogue of man as man.
Nothing can be learned from general wisdom, says the fundamentalist, for the
natural man is wrong in starting point, method, and conclusion. When the
natural man says, “This is a rose,” he means “This is a
not-made-by-the-triune-God rose.” Everything he says is blasphemy.
It is _non-sequitur _reasoning of this sort which places fundamentalism at
the extreme right in the theological spectrum. Classical orthodoxy says that
God is revealed in general as well as in special revelation. The Bible
_completes_ the witness of God in nature; it does not negate it.
Since the fundamentalist belittles the value of general wisdom he is often
content with an educational system that substitutes piety for scholarship.
High standards of education might tempt the students to trust in the arm of
flesh. Moreover, if the students are exposed to damaging as well as to
supporting evidences, their faith might be threatened. As a result, the
students do not earn their right to believe, and they are filled with pride
because they do not sense their deficiency.
The intellectual stagnation of fundamentalism can easily be illustrated.
Knowing little about the canons of lower criticism, and less about the
relation between language and culture, the, fundamentalist has no norm by
which to classify the relative merits of Biblical translations. As a result,
he identifies the Word of God with the seventeenth-century language forms of
the King James Version. Since other versions sound unfamiliar to him, he
concludes that someone is tampering with the Word of God.
This stagnation explains why the fundamentalist is not disturbed by the
difficulties in orthodoxy. Faithful to ideological thinking, he denies that
there are any difficulties. To admit a difficulty would imply a lack of
faith, and a lack of faith is sin.
_5. The Negative Ethic_
When the fundamentalist develops his ethical code, he is somewhat prompted
by a quest for status in the cult. Consequently, he defines the good life as
the separated life separated, that is, from prevailing social mores. Whereas
Christ was virtuous because he loved God with all his heart and his neighbor
as himself, the fundamentalist is virtuous because he does not smoke, dance,
or play cards. By raising a scrupu8lous demur over social mores, the
fundamentalist can divert attention from grosser sins anger, jealousy,
hatred, gossip, lust, idleness, malice, backbiting, schism, guile,
injustice, and every shade of illicit pride. This strategy places
fundamentalism in the general tradition of the Donatists. Since the
Donatists had not handed the Scriptures over to the Diocletian inquisitors
(they were not among the traditores), they supposed they were virtuous. By
accenting the sins that they did _not_ have, they took an easy attitude
toward the sins that they _did_ have.
An anxiety for negative status betrays fundamentalism into glaring
hypocrisy. For example, a fundamentalist is very certain that smoking is
sinful, for smoking harms the body and it is habit-forming. Yet, reasonably
equivalent objections can be raised against excessive coffee drinking. The
nerves may be upset or a stomach ulcer induced, and the practice is
habit-forming. But the fundamentalist conveniently ignores this parallel. An
attack on smoking ensures status in the cult, while an attack on coffee
drinking does not. Moreover, the fundamentalist enjoys his coffee, and
plenty of it. since medical tranquilizers soothe his nerves, he dies not
need to smoke.
The fundamentalist is also very certain that movie attendance is sinful, for
the movie industry is a tool of Satan. But when the fundamentalist judges
films on television, he uses a radically different criterion. There is a
cultic reason for this shift in standards. Fundamentalists, it so happens,
are afraid of one another. If a fundamentalist is seen entering a theater,
he may be tattled on by a fellow fundamentalist. In this event the guilty
party would ‘lose his testimony,” i.e., his status in the cult would be
threatened. But, when he watches movies on television, this threat does not
exist. Drawn shades keep prying eyes out. One of the unexpected blessings of
television is that it lets the fundamentalist catch up on all the movies he
missed on religious principles.
Fundamentalists defend the gospel, to be sure, but they sometimes act as if
the gospel read, ‘Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, don’t smoke, don’t go to
movies, and above all don’t used the Revised Standard Version and you will
be saved.” Whenever fundamentalism encourages this sort of legalism, it
falls within the general tradition of the Galatian Judaizers.
Paul says that we are to ‘avoid quarreling, to be gentle, and to show
perfect courtesy toward all men” (Titus 3:3). But the fundamentalist is
often so intent on negative status that he confuses courtesy with
compromise. As a result, he drives cultured people from the church. For
example, if a fundamentalist receives a letter from a modernist, he may go
right ahead and publish it without the writer’s permission. Overly anxious
to attack modernism, he neglects his own duties as a Christian gentleman. He
has perfect vision to see heresy in others, but not in himself.
While we must be solicitous about _doctrine_, Scripture says that our
primary business is _love_. But the fundamentalist finds the first task much
more inviting than the second. Despite the severest apostolic warnings,
schism in the church is often interpreted as a sign of Christian virtue.
Separation promotes status in the cult; unity through love does not.
_6. The Chief End of Man_
Whereas orthodoxy says that the chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy
him forever, fundamentalism says that the chief end of man is to win souls.
This conversion of final causes did not come by accident.
Lest we be misunderstood, however, let it be clearly and forcefully said
that evangelism is an incumbency on the church. Woe to the minister who has
no compassion for lost souls! If we are united with Christ’s cross and
resurrection, we must also be united with his tears for Jerusalem.
But when the fundamentalist elevates evangelism above other Christian tasks,
or when he conceives of evangelism in terms of techniques, he is no longer
true to his own presuppositions. While evangelism is a sacred duty, it is by
no means our only sacred duty. We offend the whole counsel of God unless we
also stir up the gifts of exposition, teaching, counseling, prophecy,
edification, ecclesiastical rule, and the discerning of spirits. It is not
the gift which counts, but the humility with which it is received and the
manner in which its duties are carried out. A missionary to the Moslems may
never see a convert; but if he is faithful, he may receive a more
illustrious crown than an evangelist who enjoys a high incidence of
conversions. The greatest in the Kingdom must be least in himself. And from
the perspective of God this may be a humble Dorcas who knits little coats
and shirts for the poor.
The fundamentalist’s quest for souls is subtly interlarded with a quest for
status in the cult for the soul-winner belongs to a new high-priestly caste.
He can rise in prayer meeting and discourse on his accomplishments in the
Kingdom. Ordinary human kindness does not have this cash value.
Fundamentalism is also governed by a strict code of hero worship. When a
notorious felon is converted, fundamentalists promptly make a celebrity out
of him. He is sent into evangelism without the discipline of classical
theology. This neglect inflates him with the notion that he is
omnicompetent. He not only tells sinners to repent, but he stands behind the
sacred desk and pronounces on science, the United Nations, and the cause of
immorality in France. He egregiously offends humility and truth, but he does
not know enough about humility and truth to measure his offense. He adds to
general insecurity by giving dangerously simple answers to bafflingly
complex questions. In so doing, he unwittingly verifies Christ’s observation
that ‘the sons o this world are wiser in their own generation than the sons
of light ” (Luke 16:8).
Anxiety for evangelism often betrays fundamentalism into strange
inconsistencies. For example, to ensure a goodly attendance at a youth
railly, the fundamentalist thinks nothing of using an ‘intelligent horse:”
for entertainment, or of adapting gospel lyrics to the rhythm of the dance
floor. The majesty of God and the sanctity of the church must not impede the
the work of saving souls.
The fundamentalist often takes a magical attitude toward the Word of God.
This attitude belittles the necessity of material righteousness in the
soul-winner. Get the Word out any manner will do and God will see that his
Word does not return void. This assumes that responsibility for arousing
conviction rests solely on the written Word. But the written Word says
otherwise: “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good
works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven” (Matt. 5:16). When
Jesus addressed the woman at the well, he addressed her as a gentleman would
(John 4:7-26). A prophet must speak, but he must speak with compassion.
Example first, then precept. Unless kindness arouses a sense of fellowship,
the Word of God will not arouse a sense of conviction.
Since the task of general charity is apparently unconnected with the work of
saving souls, it rates low on the scale of fundamentalism. Handing out
tracts is much more important than founding a hospital. As a result,
unbelievers are often more sensitive to mercy, and bear a heavier load of
justice, than those who come in the name of Christ. The fundamentalist is
not disturbed by this, of course, for he is busy painting ‘Jesus Saves” on
rocks in a public park.
Scripture says there are times many more than a fundamentalist suspects when
we must view charity as an end in itself. Since Jesus came to reverse the
curse on nature, _any_ act of kindness brings glory to the covenant God. The
parable of the good Samaritan shows this.
But such pointed Biblical evidence does not move the fundamentalist. In the
face of the most distressing social need Christ’s question, “Did you feed
the hungry?” means to the fundamentalist ‘Are you winning souls?”
_7. The Category of Irony_
The predicament of fundamentalism must be viewed through, the category of
irony; otherwise the base for pity and forgiveness is destroyed. Although
fundamentalism is orthodoxy gone cultic, the perversion is fathered by
misguided zeal, not malice. This fact should be acknowledged.
Irony is kin to humor, but it is not a direct kin. Irony is paradox brought
on by a zeal that overlooks the limits that original sin places on the
entire human enterprise. This oversight betrays the zealot into
contradiction; for the more he presses toward his goal, the more he pursues
a course that is at variance with that goal.
For example, Paul says that Christians should not be conformed to this world
(Rom. 12:2). Anxious to honor this injunction, the fundamentalist takes an
absolute stand against dancing. In so doing he not only outrages the natural
instincts of the body, but he offends the teaching of Scripture elsewhere.
Though David danced before, the Lord (II Sam. 6:14), the fundamentalist will
not. David was more relaxed because he feared God more than he did man. He
properly understood that some things are right or wrong according to
circumstances. “For everything there is a season, and a time for every
matter under heaven: … a time to mourn, and a time to dance.” (Eccl.
3:1,4.) The fundamentalist is so intimidated by the cult that his sense of
social grace has all but atrophied. Although many nations perpetuate their
traditions through the dance, the fundamentalist takes a harsh and unfeeling
attitude toward the institution: _all_ dancing is worldly; there is no
stopping point between total abstinence and night-club lust. The
fundamentalist laces religion with so many negative burdens that he often
deprives the man on the street of the most innocent forms of recreation. And
the fundamentalist defends his negations in the name of the very Lord who
came that men might have life, and that they might have it abundantly.
The fundamentalist ends in irony because he does not bring his cause to
the-touchstone of classical theology. He fails to see that Christ reveals
the limits of human virtue as well as the justice and mercy of God. When t e
world rejected Christ, it rejected its own ideal. An oversight of this
tragedy inspires the fundamentalist with the optimism that the existing
order can be defecated by orthodox doctrine. Comforted by this illusion, he
takes a cavalier attitude toward the sort of compromise that keeps society
decent and orderly.
Don Quixote is the literary symbol of this irony. He threw himself into the
task of knight-errantry with intoxicating zeal. But since he did not
understand the limits of virtue in himself, he did not understand the limits
of virtue in history. This made him impatient with the realistic expedients
that kept history from converting to an iniquitous tyranny. As a result, he
increased general evil by overturning existing safeguards. When he met a
line of prisoners, he promptly released them. Pleased with the evil he
corrected, he failed to notice the evil he created. But this contradiction
did not occur to him, for he thought he enjoyed a perspective that was
untinctured by pride and personal interest. He did not reckon with the
extent to which the ideals of knight-errantry were enlisted in the service
of self-love.
The fundamentalist is a religious knight-errant. He sallies off with the
doctrinaire expectation that society would resolve all its problems if other
people would only become as virtuous as he is. He entertains this illusion
because he identifies _possession of the Word of God_ with _possession of
virtue_. Having never traced the effects of original sin in the lives of
those who possess the Word of God, he does not reckon with the degree to
which the canons of orthodoxy are enlisted in the service of self-love. He
makes no serious allowance for either his own relative understanding of the
Word of God or the moral ambiguity of his vocation. Defending the Bible is a
comfortable egoistic accomplishment; battling modernists is a pleasing
palliative for pride. Since the Fundamentalist acknowledges the virtue of
his stand, but not the sin, he minvests his cause with more purity and
finality than it deserves. He uses the Word of God as an instrument of
self-security but not self-criticism. Mils is t e source of his zeal and the
cause of his irony.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
*Editor’s Footnotes*
i In the first line of his Preface to _The Casebook_, Carnell writes,
“Orthodoxy is that branch of Christendom which limits the ground of
religious authority to the Bible. No other rule of faith and practice is
acknowledged. Orthodoxy is friendly toward any effort that looks to
Scripture; it is unfriendly toward any that does not.” In the third
paragraph of the same preface, he states his conviction “that the Reformed
faith, despite its shortcomings, is the most consistent expresion of
orthodoxy.”
ii. In Chapter VII of _The Casebook_, Carnell identifies a number of
difficulties with which orthodoxy must come to terms (i.e. places where our
knowledge is clearly imperfect). Among these are the apparent conflict
between science and Scripture, the antiquity of the human race, and the
nature of inspiration.
*Author’s Footnotes*
1. Calvin, _Institutes_, IV.1.18
2. Richard Whately, A View of the Scripture Revelations Concerning a Future
State, pp. 154-155