Work for Christian unity must, of course, envisage the removal of what are called the non-theological factors, obstacles of divergence of ethos, outlook and idiom of thought, which separate Christians and Christian allegiances. These seem to bulk larger in the minds of many ecumenists than the primary and basic obstacles which are purely theological. Dr Mascall’s book wisely sets out to make theology the foundation of his approach to the problem of unity, and Christians of every allegiance, Catholics not least among them, have cause to be grateful for almost all of this ably written contribution to the solving of that problem. His work has been done with the learning and charity we should expect of him, and apart from one important section of it, the two chapters on the Papacy which we shall comment on later in this article, will prove of undiluted value in promoting the ecumenical dialogue.

The distinctive mark of Dr Mascall’s approach is a typically Anglican one; it is characteristic, as he points out, of the central theme of the Report Catholicity, namely the necessity of getting back behind the Reformation and the middle ages if the wholeness of the Catholic tradition is to be recovered. Much of what he says on this subject, in his chapters on Clearing the Ground, Reculer Pour Mieux Sauter, The Rediscovery of Liturgy, and The Church and the Ministry, will gain the cordial assent, exceptis excipiendis, of the majority of Catholic theologians, whether their particular interest is ecumenical or not.

The coming of age of the layman in the present-day Church can be looked at, as a result of the general upheaval in modern society, from two inter-related points of view. In the first place, present circumstances have reminded us that the Church, even where she seems most settled and at peace, remains essentially ‘militant’: her children, while ‘in’ the world, are never ‘of’ the world. Constant conflict within and without is inescapable for all the baptized. Consequently the Church, impelled by the demands of her missionary task, is ever anxiously urging the layman to become the apostle and the Gospel-bearer that is at once his vocation and his birthright; while the layman himself, now finding himself up against unfavourable surroundings, whether antagonistic or indifferent, is more fully alive to the claims made upon him. For the most part he has not shrunk from this challenge, but rather shown his resolve to turn to greater account the immense riches of the Faith and the Church found in the Sacraments, the liturgy, the Bible, the great spiritual traditions and theology.

In the second place, there can be detected a tendency which would claim for the layman a more specific status in the mission of Christendom. According to this, the layman should assume as his peculiar right and duty those tasks of the temporal order which do not of their very nature belong to the spiritual society which is the Church; he should even willingly take over, within the Church itself, certain functions and responsibilities of which the clergy, to their own advantage, could be freed.

Two groups of Christian scholars have met recently—one at Oxford, the other at Louvain—to consider the Gospel of St John; and the papers read at both meetings are now published. The English group was mostly Anglican, the Continental one (French, Belgian and Dutch, but using the French language) was Catholic; but this difference only appears obviously in two or three of the contributions to the English volume. Together these books are a striking witness to contemporary interest in the most sublime of Christian documents. This interest is particularly keen just now for several reasons including, besides a general stimulus coming from the Qumrân discoveries, the recent publication of an important new manuscript of the fourth Gospel and, in the field of Johannine theology, Dr C. H. Dodd’s great work, The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel (1953). It is in this theological field that the books we are reviewing make their chief contribution. The Catholic volume in particular offers some really distinguished pieces of biblical theology; indeed it is only fair to say, and one may say this without any parti pris, that of these two books the one that carries an imprimatur is by far the more important. The English work is relatively slight in scope and quality.

‘While I, brought up to scoff rather than bless
And to say No, unless the facts require
A neutral verdict, for this once say Yes.’
(Louis MacNeice, Autumn Sequel.)

When the Mongols conquered Mesopotamia in 1401, they erected a triumphal monument with the skulls of the hundred thousand inhabitants of Baghdad who had not defended themselves.’ This quotation from Spengler begins Jacques Soustelle’s defence of French right-wing policy in Algeria (Le drame algérien et la décadence française. Réponse à Raymond Aron. Plon, 1957). The pamphlet might well have served the French left as a warning of how far Soustelle and his fellows were likely to go in defending their point of view. There is no such thing, proclaimed Soustelle—with some show of justification—as historical necessity, any more than there is such a thing as the inevitability of progress. There is no reason at all why we should believe in the ultimate triumph of Arab nationalism, of Pan-Arabism. A similar surrender to a feeling of inevitability in 732 would have stayed the hand of Charles Martel against the Moors, and in 1940 would have prevented de Gaulle from rallying the forces of Free France. There is no need to abdicate any position.

The historical references are a feature of Soustelle’s thinking which illustrate the fact that the revolt of May 13 was not entirely a question of Professors versus Colonels. Certainly in the case of Maurice Audin there is much more than a suspicion that the French army was willing to go to extreme lengths to silence intellectual opposition; but the civilian who espoused the army’s cause is himself an ex-academic of considerable ability who was, in addition, one of the first to join de Gaulle in 1940.