THE GREAT PERVERSION

Ours is a time of great irony, religiously. Original purposes have been denied, original plans thwarted. Christ’s prayers, addressed to the Father, have received of men a negative reply. He who was head of a submissive body is now, to a great extent, only a figurehead to a self-willed organization. A movement which began with marvelous strength of purpose has become a convulsive writhing in the dust.

For example: the church of Christ likes to think of itself as a great army, with Christ as the head, arrayed in might against the power of evil in the world; an army certainly, inevitably victorious. Witness its hymns: “Onward, Christian Soldiers,” “Soldiers of Christ, Arise,” “Faith Is the Victory,” “There’s A Royal Banner,” etc. Yes, it is an army; but the conflict for lost souls has become less interesting than the rivalries within the army itself. So the campground of Christ’s forces has become the battleground, and confusion prevails there while the forces of Satan gather the spoils unhindered.

Jesus told his disciples, “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hid. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.” The people of God, living and working after the example of Jesus, can illuminate their surroundings and provide an attraction to which the lost would swarm like moths to an electric bulb. But the light which now most strongly emanates from the ciry on the hill is from the fires of war and destruction, and the passers-by of the darkness have become so used to the spectacle that it is not the explosions, but the brief interludes of silence, which occasionally make them look up in wonder.

Jesus made his disciples “fishers of men,” and sent them forth to seine the streams of society. But before their work was finished, the task was turned into a great competitive fishing derby, with the fishermen choosing their teams, and casting their nets and lures into one another’s storage tanks as a favorite source of prize trophies.

Cynical? Perhaps, but Solomon said, “To every thing there is a season . . . a time to laugh; a time to mourn . . .” The prevailing situation does not seem to call for laughter. — FORUM Editor

FAITH AND OPINION?

To the Editor:

Your statement that you cannot see that opinions have any bearing on brotherhood, seems to indicate that you recognize a distinction between matters of opinion and matters of faith. If so, I wonder whether you have any rules for determining the difference. Few phenomena have seemed more obvious to me than that what one regards as an opinion is often a matter of faith to another. Would you say, for instance, that it is a matter of faith that baptisma in connection with a Christian’s conversion refers to an immersion, but a matter of opinion that at the end, or toward the end, of this age the kingdom of heaven — the future reign of Jesus over the inhabited earth — will be at hand? It has impressed me that the “Campbellite slogan” that calls for unity in matters of faith and liberty in matters of opinion has in almost every case been applied in reverse, i.e. when a group is united on something they demand that it be regarded as “faith,” but when they already tolerate certain differences, they label them as “opinions.” The slogan has never been of any practical benefit, because there is no court of appeal to distinguish between “faith and opinion” among us except one’s own interpretation of Scriptures, and these interpretations are clear to one who sees it and not clear to one who does not see it, and the only way to bridge the gap between not seeing it and seeing it is by patiently presenting one’s insight to another’s vision, hoping that he will have the purity of heart that makes him willing to look — and this can often best be achieved by showing one’s self willing to look at what the other fellow desires to explain. — Bill