10 - Chapter 10
X. CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE DIVINE TRUTH. The words that I speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life (John 6:63).
If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself (John 7:17). WHEN we study the teaching of Christ we soon perceive it to be thoroughly in harmony with the nature and character ascribed to Christ in the Gospels and in perfect accordance with fact and reality. Is Catholic doctrine Bible Truth? Is Evangelical doctrine Bible Truth? Questions such as these are naturally very interesting to many people, but there is a much deeper and more important question which we must not overlook, Is Christian doctrine Divine Truth? Is it in accordance with the nature of things? Is it true?
Nothing is more remarkable than the extent to which we can all verify in our lives the teaching of Christ. Indeed one of the strongest and most convincing proofs of the truthfulness of Christianity is to be found in the experience of those who have taken Christ at His word, and have responded to His gracious invitations. Everywhere and always they assure us that there is no life to be compared with the life to which Christ calls us, and that there are no such blessed experiences as those of the faithful followers of the Lord.
It is true that at first some at least of Christ’s precepts are not very pleasing in the eyes of the natural man. So long as we are convinced that the things which we can see and touch and taste are the most important, yea, the only important things in the world so long as fortunate outward circum-stances seem to us to be the only things worthy of our consideration so long as the blessedness of having plenty and of being environed with what must minister to pleasure, is the only blessedness of which we can dream for so long must many of the pre-cepts of Christ appear to us to be doubtful, if not absurd. But sooner or later our experience of life must make such a position impossible for us. For the things which are seen are temporal, and sooner or later there must come a time when we pass from them or they from us. Sooner or later we begin to surmise that there are more things in heaven and in earth than are dreamt of in the philosophies of worldly men. Sooner or later the eye is not satisfied with seeing and the ear is not satisfied with hearing, and men begin to ask the question, ’ What is a man profited if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul? ’ Now, when light from another world thus breaks in upon us and when our worldly or sinful life becomes to us a weariness, a burden, a pain, there is nothing better for us to do than simply to respond to the words of Christ, ’ come unto me,’ ’ learn of me,’ ’ follow me.’ When we go to Christ and learn of Him we are undisturbed by those things which are constantly destroying the peace and happiness of ordinary men.
’ Blessed are the meek,’ says Christ, and when we are meek and lowly we are unaffected by those humiliations that destroy the happiness of those who are proud and self-satisfied.
’ Love your enemies,’ says Christ, ’ bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.’ How very irrational this precept seems to be. And yet it is only when we abound in love to our neighbour that we see the possibilities of good which lie hid in him; and only then are we able to live and labour for the highest good of men, undeterred by the weaknesses, imperfections, sins which make themselves manifest in their lives.
’ Blessed are ye when men shall revile you and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely for my sake.’ When our Saviour gave utterance to these words He did not mean to say that there is some peculiar virtue or blessed-ness in the mere fact of being persecuted. He here speaks of the inner satisfaction that comes to all faithful souls from zealous labour in a worthy cause, notwithstanding all the difficulties and troubles wherewith their efforts may be attended. Is there no pleasure to the noble soul in the consciousness of having done one’s duty when it was difficult, or in being victorious over temptations which seemed destined to draw us into sin? Is there no pleasure in undergoing hardships for the cause which we value highly or in making sacrifices for those whom we love?
’ Blessed are the pure in heart.’ ’ Out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false witness, blasphemies: these are the things which defile a man.’ Christ knew that the heart of man is the centre of his being, and that out of it are the issues of life. And so His mind is always centred upon what a man is, and not upon what he has got; upon his inner character, and not upon his outward possessions: for He knows that they only can be regarded as truly happy who are possessed of the best gifts love to God and love to man, and purity of heart and holiness of life and heavenliness of purpose and endeavour. And who can for a moment doubt whether Christ’s method of looking at and speaking about these things is the right one? For what to us are even the most fortunate outward circumstances if our peace of mind is ruined by envy, malice, or uncharitableness? What to us is the greatest earthly prosperity so long as we feel ourselves to be linked fast to a guilty past, or know ourselves to be the slaves of some degrading passion or lust which is debasing our minds, sullying our consciences or wrecking our lives. But let our hearts be right with God, and let us seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and then, whatever our earthly circumstances may be, we have the blessing of heaven, and the peace of God which passeth understanding; that peace which the world can neither give nor take away. And those precepts of Christ which have more especially to do with a man’s duty toward his neigh-bour, how true they are and how very important!
Christ always recognises the individual man, and it is always to the individual that His words are addressed. Religion is with Him a personal matter, and He calls men individually to repentance and reformation. But He never forgets that the indivi-dual is a social being related in innumerable ways to other men and women. And so, while all Christ’s precepts have a bearing upon the social life of man, there are some which have specially to do with our duties towards others. And these precepts, how different they are from those in accordance with which most men usually regulate their conduct towards others, and yet how profoundly wise they are, and how greatly they are admired by the most enlightened consciences and by the noblest natures.
Christ calls us to self-denial and self-sacrifice, and yet, strange to say, He demands of us nothing that is inconsistent with our well-being, for our highest life can only be attained when we feel our unity with our fellow men and when our narrow, self-centred life is lost in the fuller and richer life that comes from communion with others.
’ Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them: for this is the law and the prophets.’ ’ By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.’ How apt we are to forget our duty towards our brethren; and this is often so, because we do not see how indebted we are to other people, and how necessary they are to our well-being, if not to our existence. Only too often do we think of ourselves as if we were isolated units, absolutely independent individuals, the sole creators of our fortunes, the unaided authors of our happiness, beings who receive little, if any, help or succour from those who are round about us. And thinking in this way, we make a very serious mistake. However impor-tant or unimportant we may be, we are all to a greater or less extent related to and dependent on one another. Society, in very truth, is composed of individuals necessary to each other’s well-being, and who exist and work, unconsciously where not con-sciously, indirectly if not directly, each for all and all for each, so that in the state as in the body, ’ the eye cannot say unto the hand, I have no need of thee: nor again the head to the feet, I have no need of you.’ If you possessed the world and were alone upon it, your position would not nearly be so enviable as that of the most miserable creature at present upon the earth. Your great possessions would not be able to purchase for you the necessaries of life. Your power and influence would not be sufficient to command one puny creature to do your bidding; with all your property you would have to do every-thing for yourself; and so for you the only question would be, How am I to keep soul and body to-gether? Moreover, if you possessed the earth and were alone upon it, you would inevitably be a stranger to your finest thoughts and noblest feelings.
Affection, sympathy, love would be for you names and nothing more. Acts of kindness and deeds of self-sacrifice would become for you impossible. And your life, destitute of all these things, would scarcely be worth the having. And this leads me to notice the well-known words of Christ, ’ He that findeth his life shall lose it, and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it.’
How absurd these words seem to be, and yet how true they are. We must die to our old sinful worldly self before that we can ever live that pure and heavenly life to which we are called. We must put off the old man, which is corrupt according to the deceitful lusts, before we can put on the new man, which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness. When we do what we can to make the world better, we are helping to make the scene of our life more pleasant and desirable than otherwise it would be. We must love our neigh-bours if we are to call forth towards ourselves that affection and love which can so greatly bless our lives. “ A deeper self-hood, a richer personality,” says Dr. Momerie, “ comes to a man from com-munion with others and sacrifice for others than he could possibly have gained by any amount of solitary contemplation or self-aggrandisement. It is only as our individual, narrow, exclusive, isolated self is developed into a larger, inclusive, sympathetic self that we come to our highest life. To go forth out of self, to have all the hidden wealth of feeling of which I am capable called forth towards others, and to receive back again this wealth redoubled in re-ciprocated affection and increased power of loving, this is to live wisely and well not to do this is to eliminate from life all that makes it most truly human, all that makes it most really valuable.”
Take now the subject of Prayer. Does not our Saviour by example as well as by precept point out to us the true nature and the great value of prayer? He did not pray with others because He had no sins to confess, no pardon to ask. But ever and anon He resorted to prayer and communion with God, thus showing us that an answer to petitions is not the whole result of prayer.
One of the principal results of prayer is the change that is so often effected in the minds and hearts of those who pray often and earnestly. They may have begun by wishing to change the purposes of God with regard to themselves, but they have ended by being themselves brought into harmony with the mind and will of God. And when we have reached the stage when we are able to say, ’Not my will but thine be done,’ what spiritual blessings may we not expect from prayer? “ There exists around us,” says Frederic W. H. Myers, “ a spiritual universe, and that universe is in actual relation with the material. From the spiritual universe comes the energy which maintains the material: the energy which makes the life of each individual spirit. Our spirits are supported by the perpetual indrawal of this energy.” To pray, therefore, is to put ourselves into direct communication with that mysterious power from which all grace and life and energy proceed. It is to have the strength of God made perfect in our weakness. It is “ to attach the belts of our machinery to the power house of the universe.”
If we ask and receive not it is because we ask amiss. ’ Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, he will give it you.’ But there are many other subjects on which Christ teaches with authority, for in reference to them His words are light-bringing and life-giving. So far as we can verify them His words are true, and we are persuaded that we can trust Him where we cannot see.
Take, for example, the subject of Sin.
Christ never makes light of sin. He never tries to persuade us that conscience is but a bundle of prejudices not entitled to respect. He never suggests that in certain circumstances a man may be wholly blameless when he sins. Christ never speaks of evil as unripe good, good in the making, though He gives us to understand that God can overrule evil unto good. He never says that the fall of man is necessary to his rise, though He tells us that a fall into grievous sin may awaken a man to a deep sense of his true position, and thus be the means of his rising to a height of holiness to which otherwise he might not have attained.
Christ does not think of sin as a thing to be avoided merely because pains and penalties follow in its train, nor of virtue as a thing that ought to be practised solely because of the pleasure or happiness which it may bring. With Him sin is that which is morally and divinely condemned, and which is therefore to be avoided whatever good things it may promise unto us. With Him virtue is conduct which is morally and divinely approved, and which consequently must be followed by us even when it involves us in loss, pain, tribulation, persecution.
’ Whosoever doth not bear his cross, and come after me, cannot be my disciple.’ To Christ sin is doubtless an anti-social act, a wrong done by man to man: but it is more, for man is more than a social being. He is a religious being, conscious of being morally related to the Great Unseen. He is a rational and spiritual self, incapable by his very nature of finding perfect satisfaction in pleasure or gratified feeling. He has ideals of duty which he must try to realise, and visions of a common good for himself and others which he must endeavour to bring about if he is to be the possessor of that blessedness which Christ has promised to His faith-ful followers. And our Saviour tells us that it is not our acts merely but our motives, not our deeds but our intentions, not what we have done but what we have honestly striven to do, that is the divine touchstone of human character. Christ takes it for granted that the spiritual life is growth: sorely impeded sometimes a fight in which there is often a strong foe to be overcome. But He never has any doubt as to the result in those who are faithful. For God is in and with those who are His. And as God is stronger than Satan, and goodness more enduring than evil, the purpose of God with regard to those who are His will not be baulked what-ever the evil one may do. The profoundest compassion always characterised Christ’s attitude toward the erring and the sinful, for He saw that circumstances and the law of heredity may affect us, and He knew that ignorance and thoughtless-ness are seldom wholly absent when we sin. But Christ’s mercy and compassionnever prevented Him from seeing the element of free-choice and self-will that is in every sin, however many and good may be the excuses which can be pleaded in extenuation. To Christ there is in human life something higher than heredity. It is a spirit, an inspiration from on high, a divine impulse which if responded to no circumstances should be able to overbear. And so with Christ sin is a personal fault and never wholly a misfortune a free act of the soul and never a necessity. It is a misuse of that freedom which, as we feel, we all possess. Moreover, it is always, to a greater or less extent, rebellion against God and the putting of our own will in the place of God’s. It is the introduction of disorder and disturbance into a world in which otherwise law and order would everywhere prevail. And so, with Christ, sin is a most serious affair in respect of our relation to God as well as an evil which works untold mischief in our lives, and in the lives of others a doctrine with regard to sin which our own hearts, when consulted, will acknowledge to be true.
Take, again, the subject of Sorrow.
Sorrow is one of the sternest and yet one of the commonest facts in human life. Man is born to trouble as the sparks fly upward.
There may be lives which have known little of true gladness, but there is no human life wholly ignorant of sorrow. Now, our blessed Lord and Master is the great comforter of all who are in sorrow. And what light does He throw on this important subject? Does He tell us that pain and sorrow are wholly useless, and that they ought never to have been in the lives of men?
Pain and sorrow He tells us are sometimes a punishment for sin; but even when this is so we have a manifestation, not of the vengeance, but of the righteousness and of the love of God. What kind of kingdom would the kingdom of God be if its highest interests could easily be trifled with? And would it be well for a sinful man if no notice were ever to be taken of his sin? Is it not well for the sinner when by correction he is driven out of his sin? Verily the severity of God is the outcome of His love and goodness. And even when pain and sorrow come to us not from our own sin, but from the sins and faults of others, they may be productive of great good in our lives. If they are borne in the right spirit they may tend to the improvement of our character.
It is natural for us to love the sunshine and the smooth way. It is natural for us to think that it is in every way best for us when we are fortunate and successful in our lives. And yet how few there are who have not been able to extract some blessing from the trials, the troubles, the sorrows to which they have been subjected. For these things break in upon our worldliness and selfishness, sometimes as with the crash of doom, compelling us to realise the relative importance of things temporal and things eternal, and forcing us to see how dependent we are at all times upon God. And so at the close of our disappointments and sorrows, or in spite of the continuance of them, we find ourselves sometimes giving utterance in all truthfulness to the words, ’ It was good for me that I have been afflicted, that I might learn thy statutes.’
Take, further, the subject of death and what comes after it, and you will find that the teaching of Christ not only responds to our noblest hopes and longings, but also satisfies our sense of justice and becomes more real and true to us as we live under the power of it. When a man diej what becomes of him? Does he still exist, or was the last moment of earthly life the last moment of his existence? Now, all materi-alistic systems of philosophy assert or assume that life is a mere function of matter, and that the soul dies with the body: just as the music ceases when the harp is broken. But all systems of philosophy are not materialistic in their nature. Yea, the noblest thoughts of the greatest men have, as a rule, been antagonistic to the supposition that death ends all. And it is not difficult to understand why this should be so. Is there not something disappointing, something well nigh incredible, in the thought that just when good men and women have become most worthy of life, and most capable of living, they should cease to be? Is it not difficult to believe that men are to go on increasing in virtue and in godliness merely to find out at the end that they are but “ spray flung out of the deep to reflect the light of other worlds and fall back into the dead sea “? And is not our sense of justice unsatisfied with the supposition that death ends all for man? Are the inequalities of life to continue for ever? Are the injustices to which multitudes have been subjected never to be redressed? Shall not the judge of all the earth do right? Is there not, therefore, a sense of relief and a feeling of satisfaction in the Scriptural as-surance that every one of us must appear before the judgment seat of God to receive according as we have done, whether it be good or bad? And does it not seem as if the sanctions of a moral life become much less effective when we have rejected the doctrine of a future life?
It may be true that virtue can exist without what may be called the lower religious sanctions the hope of the divine reward or the fear of the divine punishment in another world. But if virtue is to live and thrive, is it not necessary for her to be certain that she is not a passing, evanescent thing, a mere temporary disturbance, an unreal pheno-menon? If she is to flourish vigorously, does she not require the assurance that no worthy life is ever lived in vain, that our noblest aims and most faithful endeavours never come to nought, but survive with their effects and consequences even beyond the limitations of this world: enduring, at the heart of things, as a part of the eternal world? And is it not impossible to think of the immor-tality of virtue apart form Personal survival the Eternity of God, and what seems involved in it, or conditioned by it, the immortality of those who are truly virtuous? The Individual perishes if the human race endures. But if ’ Heaven and earth shall pass away’ the human race as we know it may yet cease to be. And in that case how can virtue be thought of as surviving apart from the Eternity of God? “ Virtue can persist only if there is a survival, and if the right Will continues in an immaterial world.” And how can we as individuals be greatly edified and inspired by an immortality in which we are to have no personal share? How can we have that encouragement and help for the work and cares and troubles of life which we so greatly require if the future we are to look forward to is to be one in which we shall see nothing, hear nothing, know nothing, remember nothing, love nothing, be in-terested in nothing, be conscious of nothing?
“ Hath man no second life? pitch this one high: Sits there no judge in Heaven our sin to see?
More strictly then the inward judge obey: Was Christ a man like us? Ah, let us try If we then, too, can be such men as He.” This is noble teaching. It is to all intents and pur-poses the practical teaching of Christianity without the beliefs which help so powerfully to confirm and support such teaching. But many will draw an entirely different inference from the pre-supposition that there is no God and no future life. And the great mass of men, if utterly destitute of the leading Christian beliefs, are not likely to live in accordance with the precepts given in the above lines.
It is true that there are some who appear to be of a different opinion. It has even been said that belief in a moral order of the universe may prevent the uni-verse from becoming morally ordered that belief in a Divine Being who overrules all things and whose righteous will must in the end be realised is almost certain to paralyse our energies by tempting us to stand idly by looking for support from above, or listlessly waiting for things to work out by them-selves the good which we desire to see. But any danger that may lurk in this direction is as nothing when compared with that which is to be found in the heartlessness and listlessness which are sure to overtake us when with hopeless hearts we look out on the great fight of evil against good, feeling persuaded that it is a losing battle we are waging when we match our human weakness against the overwhelming might of the powers of evil in the world. We are saved by hope; for it inspires us with strength and courage and activity. But what hope can we have if we cannot look up
“from the finite to infinity, And from man’s dust to God’s divinity “if we are not convinced that goodness and truth are divine and of the Lord, and therefore infinitely stronger and more enduring than evil and lies?
It is all very well for people who have been living throughout their lives in a religious atmosphere with religious influences constantly playing upon them, to speak as if it were quite an easy thing to retain the highly moral life required by Christianity after that we have divested ourselves of all the Christian beliefs. But the question is: Will the great mass of men and women continue to live as Christians ought to live long after they have ceased to believe in God and in the world unseen? Most thoughtful people will be inclined to answer this question by asking another. Can a grand superstructure exist without foundation? Can there be fruit without a tree on which it is to grow? Can a stream go on for ever completely separated from its source? If all our present moral sanctions and aids to a worthy life are scarcely able to keep us up to the standard that is required of us, how will it fare with us when the strongest and best of them are taken away?
We all know the power and persistence of habit and custom: but in this changeful world even they are ready to perish, when the reason that suggested them or the conviction that gave rise to them has ceased to be. And it is even so with faith and life, creed and conduct. Sometimes our creed sits lightly on us, for we have adopted it carelessly, and in much of it we can scarcely be said to believe. We are weak and fallible, and often we are untrue to our strongest convictions and holiest resolutions. But all the same, belief is the parent of action, and the lives of men and women on the whole are to a greater or less extent coloured and controlled by what they truly and thoroughly believe. And when conviction, with regard to God and the world unseen, perishes the life that flowed from it is smitten with death and soon will die. “ What if the flush of sunlight plays upon the horizon? The sun is set and ere long it will be light.” And here it may be noticed that Christians are often taunted with the peculiar selfishness which is supposed to be inherent in their religion. Men speak of the “ other-worldliness “ of Christianity, and they who tell us that virtue is its own reward are regarded as occupying a much higher standpoint. But the real difference between Christians and these critics of Christianity does not turn upon the question as to whether virtue is its own reward, but upon the question whether this reward can be sufficiently secured within the narrow limits of an earthly existence. Virtue is its own reward in Christendom not less truly than amongst the purest and noblest philosophers. For the Christian life is not a life of virtue undertaken in order to win a life of worldly pleasure in another state of existence.
It is a life of righteousness, and the prize to which it looks forward is a life of the same nature and character, but in a sphere where “ righteousness takes new and transcendental proportions and be-comes its own crown and reward.” But neither in Philosophy nor in Christianity can virtue be said to be its own reward to those who do not as yet delight in virtue, and who have to struggle unceas-ingly against temptations to worldliness, selfishness, and sin. And this struggle can only be rationally justified when we are convinced that the cause of virtue represents everything that is noblest and best and most enduring, and that no sacrifice we can make in the domain of worldly success, personal inclination, selfish pleasure, and sensual gratification is too great a price to pay for the blessedness which we feel sure must come sooner or later to those who delight in the things that are just and good and pure and true. When death is thought of as ending all for all men, then, in the opinion of many, the reward of virtue is not, in the great majority of cases, sufficiently secured.
“ My own dim life should teach me this, That life shall live for evermore, Else earth is darkness at the core, And dust and ashes all that is.”
Moreover, our noblest virtues would then seem to be deprived of that atmosphere without which they cannot thrive.
“ Truth for truth and good for good: the Good, the True, the Pure, the Just Take the charm ’ for ever ’ from them and they crumble into dust.” But when we believe in God and in the life eternal, are we not inspired with hope and courage and strengthened for the life and work to which God has called us? He that has this hope purifieth himself, even as Christ is pure. And when we are possessed of pure hearts and live in God and for God, how certain we become that because He lives we shall live also. ’ Art thou not from everlasting, O Lord my God, mine Holy One? we shall not die.’
It is difficult at times to believe in immortality. When the dull clods thud upon the coffin lid it is difficult for us to keep from believing that death ends all. When we look upon the cold, stiff, insensate corpse, fit only to moulder into dust, and contrast what is with what was, it is difficult for us to believe in a life after death. When we think of the selfishness, the meanness, the worldliness, the brutality, the bestiality of some men and women, it is difficult for us to keep from believing that man is merely an animal, “ living a brief life and dying an unmeaning death.” But when we live as do many of the children of God when we remember that time is a part of eternity when we realise the act that every moment of our lives we are in the presence of God when we live honest, conscientious, God-fearing lives when we covet the best gifts and follow after the things that are just and pure and lovely and of good report when we rise in spirit above the world and look constantly beyond it when we identify ourselves with, and live for, interests and causes and works which are of the Lord, and which are as eternal as God Himself, we cannot believe ourselves deceived, we cannot believe that man is mortal. We are sure and certain then, that we who believe in God, and live in and for Him, shall live for ever.
’ If any man will do God’s will he shall know of the doctrine whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself.’