ae seit ity & teat wgkag tts atacee Stora : +X ababits Sy Ste ieee hs ae hs i ayt Library of Che Theological Seminary PRINCETON * NEW JERSEY <5): PRESENTED BY state of the a —_ Lt1S . 2 1 (er ee TQ co ae eee ee e be onn +! @ WLEC Lo f Why Nien th bit ‘ , ‘ ni) a |} ‘aL Heyy, \ SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD as bad WALTER RUSSELL “BOWIE RECTOR OF GRACE CHURCH IN THE CITY OF NEW YORK, AND FORMERLY RECTOR OF ST. PAUL’S CHURCH, RICHMOND, VA. AUTHOR OF ‘‘THE MASTER OF THE HILL,” ‘‘ THE CHILDREN’S YEAR,” ‘*SUNNY WINDOWS,” ‘!THE ARMOR OF YOUTH,” ETC. 6eé NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS 1924 COPYRIGHT, 1924, BY CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS Printed in the United States of America TO 8 od eg 6 This book is yours,—yet not for aught it gives, Yours rather for the gain it takes from you, Since what you are commends what it would say, And in your eyes is that which makes it true: For through the morn, or through gray mists of tears, Where courage led, your steady feet have trod; And those who watch that far look on your face, Know you have found the open ways to God. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2022 with funding from Princeton Theological Seminary Library https J/archive.org/details/someopenwaystogo00bow' PREFACE I should like to believe that this book might justify its name. For I think as I write it of that multitude of men and women in our world to-day who are wistful for God, yet do not know how to find Him. Many of them imagine, in these times of much religious controversy, that old roads to Him have been destroyed, and they are fearful of any new ones. And some, especially of the younger generation, wonder whether there genu- inely is any reality of God at all at the end of the questionings men follow. ‘To both these groups equally—to the traditional believers distrustful of changing ideas, and to the restless questioners who are doubtful of even the most vital facts which religious tradition tells of—I would try to bring what seems to me the message of the truth. The pages that follow deal sometimes with mat- ters which have been much in controversy; but they are written never for a controversial, but always for a religious, end. They are meant to show that the ground of those modern concep- tions of science, of life, and of religion, over which alone our twentieth-century minds can easily move, do give firm footing for the advance of faith, and that the ways of our truest and most unfettered thinking are open ways which lead to God through Jesus Christ. W.R.B Grace Cuurcu REcTOoRY October, 1924. my he eily Pores APA ee Pi oan h Lae oh. hai i) A Ray . Ui aA) i ‘ Ar ) ts " ) y' ' ., rl ‘ np wy p i cary : ‘es hi Me | ; ary f : / A t U N he, bj 4 " fs ys i fs pins i iv ‘ VSL wASTS : Th) CPaeas We PARR: 4 AP i aya Liptay eT ie nH i k Te ee ; oh) Fite! é ta 4 oe uy ; / ol vite oa Ny DAUM Be Aa el FY * p , ry (Ae ry i » ) ia be ry a t yiiita ’ A od : CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. THE NEED OF RELIGIOUS CONVICTION. . I The popular distaste for religious formulations. The necessity for creedal certainties, nevertheless, and the value of religious convictions to-day, for: The preservation of moral integrity. The revelation of the spiritual beauty which is the spring of hope. The gift of courage. Il. THE REALITY OF GOD FOR PERSONAL EXPERI- FONTS eth ench & a I. Some reasons why, fon many Benples ie conscious- ness of God is dim: The child’s thought of God fades, and no ma- ture conception is equally vivid to take its place. The intricate self-sufficiency of our material civilization seems to make God unnecessary. The contradiction of evil to belief in a holy and loving God. II. How the difficulties already considered may be transcended: The reinterpretation of God into terms of our mature experience. The discovery of God as the spirit in the wheels. The answer of the Divine to the challenge of evil. III. The possession of God for the life of to-day: The power of faith in the living fact. God seen in the beauty of the world. God found in the common task. Human souls as the gateways of God. Tig ole. CHRIS DAs hari si geuive dling ah eu ait nt Gm I. The twofold aspect of tesa The intimate humanness of the disciples’ first knowledge of Him. The growing awareness of that in Jesus which no human measures could contain. II. The problem of the miraculous: The distinction between the event and the descriptions of it. The value of a reverently suspended judgment. ix sf CONTENTS CHAPTER III. How shall we interpret to-day these two supreme beliefs concerning Jesus: The Resurrection. The Virgin Birth. IV. The immediate. religious significance of certain great Christian doctrines: The Incarnation. Salvation through the cross. The power of the risen life. The second coming of Christ. IV. THE INDWELLING SPIRIT I. The vital religious consequences of he! coming ret the Holy Spirit: The experience of the disciples. Attempts to explain the experience. II." What the Holy Spirit may mean for life to-day: The inspiration of goodness: In work, in service for others, in courage beneath calamity. The Spirit of Truth, creating: Open-mindedness to appraise the unexpected, adaptableness to a changing intellectual challenge. The genius for constructive interpretation of the enlarging facts of life. The spirit of power. V. WHY BELONG TO THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH? I. The true simplicity of the church: In its origin. In its essential and continuing character. II. Some familiar indictments of the actual church and the answers to them: The “unattractiveness”’ of church people. The charge of hypocrisy and the honorableness of being a ‘‘ hypocrite.” The objection that ‘‘the church does not do anything.” III. The positive contributions of the church to the re- deeming forces of our civilization and life: The nurture of the ideal. The strength of the confidence which comes from Christian history. A gradual unifying of spiritual forces. The church as the body of Christ. PAGE 140 184 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD y 5 C Ai oe): a, 7) viva? t 7 j * ¥ We p, fa i “ CHAPTER I | THE NEED OF RELIGIOUS CONVICTION IN various Christian communions of late there has been an extraordinary ferment of dis- cussion concerning what men ought to believe. It had been generally assumed that the mark of Christianity in this age was a comparative indif- ference to theology and a thorough preoccupation with practical service. Yet here of a sudden is an explosion of interest not only in theology, but in the categorical forms in which it is represented that theology must properly be cast. Nor is this discussion a matter of merely super- ficial emotion. Loyalties of the deepest and most passionate kind surge up into its expression. An extraordinary preacher stands in the pulpit of the old First Presbyterian Church in New York. Multitudes flock to hear him and find in his gos- pel a message that satisfies their souls. Yet a host of conscientious ministers and laymen in the Presbyterian Church are convinced that all the seeming work of righteousness which his preach- ing produces is blighted by a bad theology, and that the preacher himself ought to be silenced because of his unorthodox beliefs. The General Assembly of the Church has had as its most in- I SOME OPEN W-AYS' 10) GO tense concern the question as to whether Dr. Fos- dick shall continue to mount his pulpit stairs or be turned out of his Church doors. Nor is it among the Presbyterians only that division 1s sharp. In the Episcopal Church a Bishop puts forth a little book outlining the change and ex- pansion of his theology in a ministry of fifty years. The House of Bishops holds a meeting and pro- ceeds to set forth in emphatic fashion the strict idea of the majority of its members as to the limits within which theology must properly move. In other communions the so-called Fundamentalists have established their shibboleths, and in deadly earnest they would decapitate as ecclesiastical heathen all those who cannot pronounce their formulas. ‘The temper of this widespread theo- logical discussion is not always the same. Some- times it is as vehement and excited as though into the religious life of our own time had come a recrudescence of passions like those which made the Inquisition. Sometimes it is the deep intensity of a quiet and disciplined conviction. But back of all the discussion, there is a profound reality of concern. Thousands of Christian men and women see in the terms of the theological discussion—in the Virgin Birth, in the deity of Christ, in the lan- guage of the historic creeds—the symbols of their deepest faiths. Confusedly, but very genuinely, they are afraid that something which has been 2 REL CGO Ss. 6 ONVLe LOIN very precious to them is imperilled in a great up- heaval. Yet the curious fact is that, at the very moment when so many people within the Churches are engaged in theological discussions, the crowd with- out is plainly sceptical as to any worth which these discussions may have. It is true, of course, that the man in the street is interested for the moment in what the churchmen argue about. He likes to read the flamboyant headlines that tell of some interesting collision between ecclesiastical person- ages. Among other exciting features of the morn- ing news, he will accept with satisfaction the re- port of theological controversy. But his interest arises, not from the fact that it is theological, but from the fact that it is controversy. After a while, men outside the Church grow confused in the general tangle of arguments and the dust of dificult language which hides the real contention. So it results that at the very moment when many religious folk are deeply and earnestly engaged in trying to vindicate those forms of faith which seem to them of extreme importance, a great many of the people at large, instead of feeling that they ought to shape their religious creeds more posi- tively, are feeling rather that, in the midst of so much which seems to them confusion, it is im- possible for the average man to find out anything 3 SOME OPEN WAYS POVGOD definite, and that there is no particular necessity for him to try. If we should try to analyze more particularly this reaction which is so often characteristic of the crowd outside the Churches, we should find that in their mind there are two considerations at least. In the first place, people are thinking that the discussion about creeds simply distracts by all sorts of needless questionings the attention which had better be fixed on the plain business of respectable living, which goes along better without too much theological dissection. They remember the whim- sical verse “The centipede was happy quite Until the frog in fun Said, Pray which leg comes after which? Which raised his mind to such a pitch He lay distracted in the ditch Considering how to run.” “What difference does it make,” says someone, ‘what a man says that he believes so long as he goes ahead doing the best he knows how?” “Ex- actly what I say,” replies his neighbor, “if a man is conscientious and does his duty, beliefs don’t matter much, one way or the other. If he stops bothering about the things he does not understand 4 RELIGIOUS CONVICTION and simply tries to go straight, he will probably land where he ought to be.” That is one reason for scepticism as to the im- portance of religious formulations. Also there is another and deeper reason which lies back of the first. Not only are many people impatient of any attempt at trying to understand what religious dogmas mean; but they are doubtful about the value of those dogmas, even if they did fully un- derstand them. They know that men have always believed in God; but with the world as it is, does belief in God make any very great difference in a man’s way of living and in the results which his life achieves? They know that for many centuries millions of people have worshipped in the name of Jesus Christ. But has Jesus Christ a message which is practicable in the twentieth century? Arguments about the Virgin Birth or some other article of the Apostles’ or the Nicene Creed seem to large numbers of people nowadays to be mere gesticulations not very relevant to the more essential matter. It is not a question now of whether they are right or wrong, but of the fact of what they think; and it is a fact that thou- sands of men and women are indifferent to creedal affirmations, not because they question this or that detail, but because they are dubious as to any 5 SOME OPEN WAYS) GOMGI actual dynamic value in the most fundamental con- victions which the creeds express. Notwithstanding, with full recognition of these facts, I stake the message of this book upon the affirmation that it does make a tremendous dif- ference what a man believes, and that it does make an equally tremendous difference that he should come to believe those great proclama- tions of religious faith which Christianity has always taught to be essential to his soul’s health. There are some Christian convictions which would be argued about the less as they are understood the more; and what I want to do is to lift some things up out of the dust and confusion of con- troversy, to set certain facts in the light of today’s sunshine, and to show why the Christian faith must be laid hold of and how it may be conceived, in order that it may be the power of life in this our present time. To begin with, then, about that centipede. It sounds plausible to say that the trouble with us is that we are getting our minds into a whirl with various speculations, when what we had better do is to go and take the next step without bother- ing our brains as to ultimate principles and under- lying explanations. Many of us say things like that very glibly. We play with the phrases which happen to be popular in our generation. We blow them out like feathers down the wind; but if we 6 RELLGIGUS: CONMIG DION really dare rest any weight upon them, they come down promptly enough to the ground, and we with them. We may not have to be considering at every moment which leg comes after which; but if we do have to get anywhere, we have to stop and consider where both legs are going to. How- ever it be with a centipede, it is certainly true with a man that he will stay in the ditch permanently, so far as his life’s achievements are concerned, un- less he determines what his life’s movement is about and what direction he intends to move in. From the very start—if there is to be any start— he has got to believe in something. He must be- lieve, for example, that effort is better than stag- nation. He must believe that it is better to try than not to try. He must believe that one thing is better to try for than another thing. So little by little his life builds itself up out of creeds,—that is to say, out of the definite and practical beliefs which become the mainspring of his daily choice and action. Plainly, also, it will make a difference to a man’s neighbor to know what that man believes, and what are the general lines along which he may be trusted to move. Here he is today. But what are the general principles which govern him, by which his neighbors may know where they will find him tomorrow? For even the most practical purposes of mutual relationships, it may be far 7 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD more important for a man’s neighbors to know what he thinks and what he believes in than to know what he possesses. It is more important for the landlady to know that her lodger has a belief in honesty than it is for her to know that he has money in his pocket. If he has money but no creed of honesty, his money will do her no good: But if he has no money and does have the fixed belief that honesty is right and that honesty is authoritative, he will somehow get the money, and she will get it too. Let us be candid with ourselves, then, and admit that there is a great deal of loose talk about the uselessness of religious belief which is talk and nothing else. We do need creeds, and none of us could get along without them. Without creeds our own individual lives would be like so many tumble-bugs and beetles, buzzing and turning and getting nowhere; and without those great central convictions and governing principles which men mutually acknowledge, society, which has been built up by the growth of just such creeds, would disintegrate into chaos. At this point, I know very well that someone will rise up to reply. He will declare, “"What you have said is all very well, and all very obvious too. Nobody objects to that. Everybody admits that there are certain necessary principles of morality and decent living, of straight purpose and clear RELIGIOUS CONVICTION choice, which men must follow. If you choose to call these things creeds, then it is plain enough that to this extent creeds are necessary; but it is a mere paper argument which identifies principles such as these with the kind of dogmas theologians talk about. Of course people have got to have some kind of belief in something. But what has this to do with the question as to whether there is vital importance in those particular beliefs which Christian teachers insist upon?” That is a fair question, and it is not to be evaded. Because a man believes something, you cannot by that fact alone persuade him that he is bound to believe something else. He may be convinced that he must be better than a beast or a bug; but he may not thereby be convinced of the nearness and sufficiency of God, who will help him to be something very different from the common run of men. To face this further question and present a Christian faith for today in the light of it, is exactly the purpose of what I am writing. Only an answer cannot be given in a paragraph. It must be given in everything that follows. Not long ago, when I was preaching the same message which is written in this book, I had a letter from a man who asked me please to answer for him “in two or three lines, how to attain everlasting life.” I had to reply that it would take a lifetime of obedience to find that out, and that to tell about 9 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD ‘t in two or three lines was beyond me; but that, if he kept on following in the way of Jesus, think- ing, desiring, living, according to His leadership, he would learn. That is what I also believe about the general question of our religious doctrines. It is true that men’s lives, in order to reach their best, need not only the obvious everyday convic- tions which most moral people recognize, but need also those more radiant and abundant beliefs which come only from the wider horizons of the thought of God. What may we believe about God? What may we believe about Jesus Christ? About God’s Spirit within us? About the Church? These are the definite questions we are to con- sider in the next chapters. But first in this chap- ter we must entrench more firmly the fundamental realization that, in addition to the everyday ideas of workable behavior which common sense might arrive at, we do need the convictions which are confessedly religious. We must learn that, for gallant and effective living, there is need of a kind of inspiration which cannot come to us until our sense of reality reaches on to include the fulness of God. Specifically then, let us consider some of the reasons for which it may be fairly claimed that to carry on creditably this plainest business of living, we need no less a creed than that which presently 10 RELIGIOUS CONVICTION shall reveal at the heart of it the meaning of God in Christ. To begin with, there is the fact, rather stagger- ing to our complacency, that our everyday integ- rity requires a richer creed than some of us have imagined we could get along with. There are sions that even our common decencies will disin- tegrate if men imagine they can build on principles which have no underlying religious sanction. A short while ago, the front pages of the metro- politan newspapers were filled day by day with the reports of the Congressional investigation into the oil concessions. That absorbing interest has drifted now off the front page into the background; but it cannot have faded out of the recollection of our American people,—and if it should fade out, that fading would be a deeper indictment of our general moral status than was the original wrong. Here has been a deep and disgusting scandal with its ugly ramifications reaching out in many directions to touch this public man and that with discredit and to strike the nation with a sense of humiliated disillusionment as to the char- acter of American public men. In an issue of Life, there recently appeared a sardonic car- toon, showing the scrapping of Washington. The II SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD capitol was being hauled off on trucks in one direc- tion, the Washington monument hoisted into an- other, and the White House, sold to the highest bidder, carted away in a third. In a field there was set up a huge advertising bill-board, reading as follows: ‘‘For Sale——a lot of junk. Ideals of moral responsibility, public stewardship, and other old stuff, going cheap.” Why were these things going cheap? Wood- row Wilson expressed it in a sentence from the last message which he wrote for publication in his lifetime: ‘The sum of the whole matter is this, that our civilization cannot survive materially un- less it be redeemed spiritually.” The trouble with us is, as the whole scandal in Washington has made dismayingly evident, that too many men have no firm convictions of anything. They have no principles on which they can stand unshaken, when’ the thrust of temptation suddenly imperils the respectability which had been built on sand. When men follow expediency, and, having lost the eternal sanctions for right and wrong, make their ideas of conduct the mere by-product of materialis- tic shrewdness, then firmness and stability have gone out of them. As Franklin K. Lane wrote to a friend in Europe in that year of weariness and spiritual depression which followed the end of the war: I2 RELIGIOUS CONVICTION “This whole damned world is damned because it is standing in a bog. There is no sure ground under anyone’s feet. We are the grossest mate- rialists because we only know our bellies and our backs. We worship the great god Comfort. We don’t think; we get sensations. The thrill is the thing. All the newspapers, theatres, prove it. We resign ourselves to a life that knows no part of man but his nerves. We study reactions in human beings and in chemistry—recognizing no difference between the two—and to my great amazement, the war has made the whole thing worse than ever. If you have a religion that can get hold of people, grip them and lift them—for God’s sake come over and help us.” And to an- other friend he wrote, again of the need of re- ligion: “If we can get that sense we can have a new world. I do not believe we will change this world much for the good out of any materialistic philosophy or by an shifting of economic affairs. We need a revival—a belief in something bigger than ourselves, and more lasting than the world.” The revival which Franklin K. Lane wrote of must begin with the individual. We shall not have a finer standard of honor and service in our pub- lic life or in private business either until individual men are mastered by those fine motives which through all the centuries it has been abundantly evident that Christianity can repeatedly furnish. Certain it is that religion has been able, and still is able, to remould and transform the inner char- acter of men, giving soundness where there has 13 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD been unsoundness, strength where there had been weakness, unfailing honor and faith where there had been cowardice and evasion. We need that remaking of individuals now. As C. E. Mon- tague has written in a striking volume of Essays entitled ‘“‘Disenchantment”’: “You remember the little French towns which the pestle and mortar of war had so ground into dust, red and white, that each separate brick went back at last, dust to dust, to mix with the earth from which it had come. The very clay of them has to be put into moulds and fired again. To some such remaking of bricks, some shaping and hard- ening anew of the most elementary, plainest units of rightness in action, we have to get back. Hum- drum decencies, patiently practised through mil- lions of undistinguished lives, were the myriad bricks out of which all the advanced architecture of conduct was built—the solemn temples of creeds, gorgeous palaces of romantic heroism, cloud-capped towers of patriotic exaltation. And now, just when there seems to be such a babble as never before about these grandiose structures, bricks have run short.” Of course, it is open for any man to say that these “humdrum decencies” of which Montague speaks can be built without any divine influence of religion. They can be built, one may think, by the united pressure of a general moral expectation, whether or not the community have God in its 14 REE GLOUS ;C ON VIC TEOWN mind. Yet there is abundant evidence, both in our own time and in all the far record of history, that this is not true. You cannot make bricks by pressing together cold clay. They must be fired and hardened by heat. Similarly, there is a hard- ening of character that does not come until men’s spirits have been brought under that influence which comes from the flaming thought of God. Oliver Cromwell, disgusted with the kind of drafts which were first furnished him for his army, determined to enlist a different sort. So he said, ‘I chose me men who had the fear of God before their eyes and made some conscience of what they did. After that, they were never beaten, but they beat continually.’ The long testimony of human experience has not lost its weight. In every enterprise, and not least in those battles which men must fight against the undra- matic but most vital temptations of everyday business and politics, there is need of men who have the fear of God before their eyes, and who make some conscience of what they do. The kind of morality which is a mere reflection of the crowd opinion disintegrates under pressure. The in- tegrity which does not disintegrate must find its strength in that reverence for something bigger than oneself and more lasting than the world, which is the fear of God,—and in that growing i) SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD devotion to the beauty of holiness, through which the fear of God is lifted into the love of Him. IJ ‘As we need a creed to preserve integrity, so also we need it to preserve our hopefulness. In order to keep life on any happy level, we must learn to see the world as at least potentially beautiful; and that means that all through its often sordid and discouraging facts we must have the ability to perceive the gleam of something which redeems the present facts through the possibilities of the divine. There are many influences in our day which make for cynicism. It is significant that the pres- ence of cynicism and the absence of religion go together. There is a class of writers who make ‘t a cult of modern smartness to destroy the finer optimism everywhere. They talk in magisterial fashion of “getting under the surface of things.”’ They must not let anybody be content with what they call the sentimental appearances; and pretty much everything is sentimental appearance to them which does not lead back to dust and mud. As Ian Hay has whimsically said in one of his lectures: If this mordant school of interpreters had their way, they would make short work of all our fairy-tales. ‘Cinderella, for example,” they 16 RELIGIOUS CONVICTION would say. ‘Who in common sense could read such stuff as that? Look beneath the surface and take her measure. She was a wretched little hus- band-hunter—that is what she was. Her sisters were two old maids with an inferiority complex, and the prince was nothing but an empty-minded bounder, who probably made his wife miserable all the rest of her days.” ‘That is what becomes of Cinderella, and that is what becomes of most of the rest of us at the hands of those critics of life who see no poetry in it because they translate everything into their own sour prose. They are forever burrowing down into the poor origins which life grows from instead of seeing it in the higher beauty of that which it is growing to. They see the garden as the worm sees it, crawling through his dark channels in the sunless earth and imagining a flower is nothing but the white, ghost- ly roots that strike down into the blackness. But the garden as it really is above its surface, the only garden that counts for the fully appraising spirit, the garden as the girl sees it who walks among its flowers, the burrowing critic does not Stele Yet why burrow? It is true that we may ac- count the garden of life in terms of its creeping roots, but we may also account it in terms of its aspiring flowers. We may judge it with the worm’s judgment, but also—instead—with the 17 SOME OPEN WAYS DLORGiOm judgment of one who helps its roses grow. And the determination as to the way we shall thus judge it depends chiefly upon whether or not we have any belief in those diviner forces that for- ever are making growing things climb above the surface into a fragrance and beauty which they are destined to attain. One of the chief troubles with our world today -s that it has lost that sense of hopefulness which comes from the conviction that life ought to be and can be made beautiful. A materialistic philosophy has twisted our heads backward and told us to look at the origins of life, as though these contained within themselves the only ex- planation of reality. ‘Look at what man came from,” says this philosophy. ‘He came out of beastliness and savagery. Human nature 1s nothing but a little more presentable variety of the nature of the brute. It is full of hate and ferocity and instinctive selfishness. That is what it has been, and that is what it is going to be, and so the practical man had better shape his calcu- lations accordingly.” But to try to negotiate life under the dominion of any such idea as that, as Studdert-Kennedy wittily has put it, “is like going out for a walk, looking back to the place you started from. If you do that, you will break your neck.’ You need to look to the place you are going to, and there is nothing that our world 18 Heol GLoOUss CONV b@ RIO N needs more than a hopeful confidence that there is something fine we are going to,—some far-off divine event to which the whole creation moves, and also some true measure of progress toward that far-off hope which faithfulness and goodness can attain today. At a large assembly of the League for Indus- trial Democracy not long ago, when the needs of our civilization were being discussed before a group of men and women accustomed to think of its economic and social problems, Glenn Frank, the editor of the Century, concluded an analysis of the perils of our present social order by say- ing that what we need is more religion. And David Friday, the economist and statistician, said that what we most need to recapture in order to correct our materialistic drift, is a larger influence of religion and of art. It was not accidental that these two things were put together. Art helps men to reflect the beauty of their world, that, looking up to it, they themselves may be refined, and that the multitude, looking up to the ideal which the artist has embodied, may be refined by that contemplation; but the beauty which is wrought into canvas or marble, is only a frag- mentary part of that influence which men need to make them feel that the world is a fair place. There must be the spirit which can touch the com- we, SOME OPEN ways TO GOD mon surroundings and the ordinary duties of every day with the light of a suggested beauty, so that existence, which otherwise might be a plodding and a discouraging thing, may have the morning sunlight breaking across its fields and the song of larks within its sky. In the long run, that ‘nvincible sense of a beauty even among common things is not possible without the religious spirit. It requires the ‘award conviction which cries to itself, ‘“O worship the Lord in the beauty of holli- ness. O come, let us sing unto the Lord.” If we want to see in one vivid realization how different the world looks to the spirit which is filled with the sense of God, we need only look to the life of Jesus. He opened the doors into the undreamt-of universe that lies around our life. To ordinary men their world was largely made up of eating and drinking, of toil and uninspired drudgery, of the routine of common days with no glory break- ing through. But when He came, it was as though one said, “There is another universe which environs us as the ocean environs the little island in its bosom. Come out from under the covert of your trees that you may sce and hear it. All along the shore of life is its eternal music. Every- thing that lives and blooms is fed by the moistures that come from its far sweep. Out to its infinite horizons of adventure, it can lead your spirit 20 RELIGIOUS CONVICTION on. Round your littleness is the largeness of God.” It needed no change of place or circum- stance for Jesus to feel and make His disciples feel this divineness in which, if we choose, we may live and move and have our being. He went along the common ways of Galilee. Men looked and said, There is nothing in the field except the insignificant lilies which are too familiar to be noticed. Jesus said, The field is full of the grace and glory of God. The disciples looked into the market-place and said, There is nothing here but a group of noisy children playing. Jesus said, The market-place is full of the innocence, the lift of the spirit, the blessed youthfulness out of which alone can be builded the Kingdom of God. A woman stooped to give a child a cup of water. The disciples passed on unnoting; but Jesus said, Here is the compassion out of which the redemp- tion of God is made. A woman of the streets came into the house of Simon the Pharisee and bowed at His feet. She is a sinful woman, said Simon. She is the open gateway for the incoming saintliness of God, said Jesus. In the last night in the upper room, He took water and a basin and girded Himself with a towel, that He might wash the disciples’ feet. It is the deed of a ser- vant, thought the disciples as they shrank away. It is the self-expression of the holy love wherein God oy SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD is most revealed, said the one disciple who in after years could see into his Master’s heart. The lily in the field, the water in the cup, bread and wine on the table, the towel of the servant—these be- came sacramental things, pathways of star-dust for angelic entrances, golden gateways for the coming in of God Himself. It is only as men and women become able to think of their world in some such way as that today that we shall be able to make it over. We do not lack the materials for noble civilization. In spite of the awful wastage of the war, the vast resources of the earth, and the accumulated power of human knowledge, are sufficient to build again a social and economic order in which all men might have room to live and grow. What we lack most of all is a genuine confidence in the worth- whileness of effort. The war has left many people wondering whether there is anything real in life except cruelty and selfishness. ‘They have seen the wretched confusion into which secret diplomacy and business rivalries and jealous antagonisms of national interests have led us. Is there some- thing better ahead to strive for? If there is not, we shall slip back into the kind of disgust and cynicism which are the paralysis of effort. If we are to go forward to optimistic living for the in- dividual and to confident reconstruction of our society, it will only be because men are lifted up 22 RELIGIOUS CONVICTION in spirit to see that possible beauty which falls upon their world of striving from the light of their faith in God. Ill In the third place, we need religious conviction in order that men may bear themselves courage- ously even in those hours when all the beauty seems to have vanished from their world. For those hours of gloom do surely come. For every life there are times when there is a drab monotony about the things it must try to do, when there is no color of flags to float above its obscure moral struggles, and when duty must be followed with- out the drum-beat. But no principle of living is worth much unless it does provide driving force for these otherwise uninspired flats of existence. Vagrant emotions of many kinds may lift us to some fine thought or generous deed for an instant; but without the kind of continuing power which religion furnishes, these things are apt to evapor- ate in empty sentiment. Dwight L. Moody, with, his penetrating common sense, had the truth in mind in the reply he made to Wilfred Grenfell when Grenfell, then a young medical student in London, heard Moody preach in an evangelistic service and was moved to a new religious convic- tion. Months after that, he met Mr. Moody and 23 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD told him how he had been stirred. This is what Moody said, ‘What have you been doing since ?”’ That is the question which comes to every man. If you have thought that life ought to be a fine thing, what have you been doing about it since? And can you do it without religion, which is the steadying touch of the hands of God? In his heroic service along the grim coasts of Labrador, of which all the world knows, Dr. Grenfell has exhibited in our modern time the power of religion to help men live gallantly and work unflaggingly. In his autobiography, he has written, “Whether we, our neighbor, or God is the judge, absolutely the only value of our religious life, to ourselves or to anyone, is what it fits us for and enables us to do. God’s ‘Well done’ is only spoken to the man who wills to do His will.’ And he wrote again, “Feeble and divergent as my own footsteps have been since my decision to follow Jesus Christ, I believe more than ever that this is the only real adventure of life. No step in life do 1 even com- pare with that one in permanent satisfaction. I deeply regret that I did not take it sooner. The decision and endeavor to follow Christ does for man what nothing else on earth can.” The power of belief in God is needed to keep men faithful to duty even when their attempted faithfulness seems for the time to end in nothing but disaster. As long as the skies are fair, any 2.4 RELLGiIOUS) CONVICTION man with a sturdy moral purpose can go ahead with honor, but it requires an ultimate religious passion of conviction, whether through fair weather or foul, whether through success or long postponement and humiliation, to cleave to the brave attempt when every evidence of the world points derisively against it. ‘The confused and sometimes sordid facts of our actual world may shatter the expectations which the good man would seem to have a right to. Those who ought to be friends are indifferent and selfish, and false- hood finds its sinister ways to combat the noble thing it fears. Love may stand helpless before stubborn ingratitude and the locked doors of a wilfull heart; truth may knock in vain at the gates of sullen error; courage and generous service may find themselves assailed by treacherous foes; the cause which ought to have succeeded languishes; the crusade that lifted its lances into the sunlight of the morning rides down into the vale of some disastrous overthrow. Then comes the tempta- tion to believe that effort has gone for naught. All things continue as they were from the begin- ning. What has been the use of inspiration and of effort? The brief day of the best that one could do draws to its end, and little is there to show for what has been attempted. What is there but futility in the best that one has tried to be and do? 25 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD Then back of that sense of immediate failure there can rise the consciousness of the background of God. What He can do, what He will do, is not measured by the apparent result of the 1so- lated human effort. What any life has tried must be set in relation to the far sweep of His thought and plan. Grandly and unperturbed His purposes move on to their fulfillment. He is not troubled nor in haste, nor need men be. The tides may ebb and flow, but the strength of God which works through all faithful living is like the upheaval of the continents which slowly through the ages, yet with infinite certitude, lifts the firm land above the sea and widens the margin of safety on which the feet of the coming years may go. If we should seek an illustration of this faith in the vindication of God which rises superior to all temporary disaster, we could hardly find a- better one than in that life, which, next to the life of Jesus Himself, has been the greatest force in making Christianity what it is. Paul, the apostle, who originally had been one of the powerful leaders in the official ranks of Judaism and then had become a missionary of the Gospel of Christ, went out to execution from a prison at Rome. There were those who would hear the news about him with contemptuous satisfaction. He was the man who would turn the world upside down. Well, the world was not ready to be turned up- 26 RELIGIOUS CONVICTION ~ side down, and so to their minds his life had the usual climax which the enthusiast may look for- ward to. He lived to be discredited and to die in obscurity. Doubtless the elders in the city of Tarsus from which Paul had come, shook their heads with sage regret. It was too bad that Paul, with all his possibilities, could not have had a little more sound sense. If he had not chased dreams, he might have succeeded, instead of coming to nothing, as very obviously he had. The news filtered through also to the little con- gregations of men and women to whom Paul had preached in many cities of the great Roman civili- zation of that day. They met together in Corinth, in Thessalonica, in Athens, in the towns of Gala- tia, and heard the tidings with a hush. It did not seem possible that he could really be dead, he who had once been so full of flaming life. ‘They re- membered when he first came to them, ardent with his message. He preached to them of hope. Lis- tening to him, they forgot their poverty and their need. They forgot the oppression of that hard Roman world in which they dwelt, with all its weight of suffering, and its old legacy of war. They saw the vision grow of a better kingdom of mankind made into a brotherhood, where there should be justice and peace in the love of Christ. Paul had meant all these things to them, and Paul was dead. Now that he was gone, was the dream 27 SOME OPEN WAYS) GOWG Gap gone too? Would there be any real betterment for their world, after all? But in contrast with all these groups who thought of him with contempt, or with regret, or with wistfulness, study Paul himself. Death opened those prison doors and looked in to find no broken figure, but to find instead a soul with all its high confidence gathered into triumphant strength. He had not been thinking of defeat, but of victory. He had not been thinking of failure, but of achievement,—and this in spite of the fact that the ordinary reckoning saw little sign of anything that he had achieved. He did not leave anything behind him. There was an old cloak, it is true, which he mentions in his letter to Timothy, some books, and a few parchments. Beyond these things, heirs had no concern about his possessions. His concern was in another realm of realities altogether. He had given his life to a cause which was mightier than any visible ex- pression of it. He had laid hold of an eternal thing, and therefore neither it nor he could fail. And the history of his influence for these nine- teen hundred years is the witness that he was not mistaken. As we remember the words which Paul wrote we can understand why it was that he knew he could not fail. I have fought the good fight, he 28 RELIGIOUS CONVICTION said. I have finished my course. I have kept the faith. Kipling in one of his ballads says: The race is run by one and one And never by two and two. But life’s race, as a matter of fact, is run by one and one and also by two and two. There can be no fine achievement for any individuals, nor for families, nor for nations, except in so far as the single lives, each in its own lap of the relay, do give the utmost ounce of effort required of them to carry the torch of truth and honor and service forward in the progress of their time. Yet with this goes the correlative truth that with no indi- vidual are the ends of the whole race exhausted. If one has done his best, he is not defeated though he fall. If only he has finished his course, he has thereby launched on its way the life that waits on his for inspiration. He may not be there to see when and how the race is won. His eyes may not reach forward to the finish line. When the long progress of the soul of man comes to its climax, and the flags of God are hoisted to hail the triumph of the victors, it will not greatly mat- ter though he have fallen spent at the end of his partial course. He too is part of the ultimate victory, and in the great spiritual awareness of 29 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD the ultimate things he already knows it. That was why Paul in the prison knew that his race was not in vain. Other hands should take the torch which he passed on. Other feet should set forth on the track of the purposes of God because the contagion of his heroic beginning was passed on to them. There are those in high place who start for some great goal that waits within the gift of God for the achievement of our human race. They may fall; but before they fall, they have touched their comrade in the coming relay, and they have not failed. They are spent, but the race is sped. And less dramatic lives there are of whom the same is true. When men are discour- aged because they know that some true thing they set out to obtain will never be reached within their own experience, when they are conscious that the best things they have striven for are still far beyond their reach, and that their strength wanes and the time is short,—still may they take heart again and keep on in faithfulness on all the way which God has marked for them; for there at the end of it wait the runners who shall take up the brave incentive which their lives pass on. There are the dreamers of another generation waiting to be set free. There are the high hopes of to- morrow reaching out for the touch of their faith- fulness today. So the heart of courage which religion gives 30 REE BO LOS AC GENIE EC Ou may still beat invincibly in the midst of weariness and seeming defeat. That was true of the great apostle to the Gentiles. It was true in so vivid a measure that it needs no pointing out in the case of the life of Jesus. It can be true with all lives. The prophet Isaiah rightly shaped his words to their climax when he wrote of those who, being touched by the spirit of God, “shall mount up with wings as eagles, shall run and not be weary, shall walk and not faint.” It is the long, hard pull that counts, the steady pressing on when life is too bruised to fly, too weary to run, and can only take one painful determined step at atime. Then in the midst of discouragement the man who looks to God is still undaunted. “It fortifies my soul to know That, though I perish, Truth 1s so: That, howsoe’er I stray and range, What’er I do, Thou dost not change. I steadier step when I recall That, if I slip, Thou dost not fall.” 31 CHAPTER II THE REALITY OF GOD FOR PERSONAL EXPERIENCE Nor long ago-.a caravan started across the Sahara Desert to find the oases of Kufara, to which very few Europeans had ever penetrated. It was a hazardous adventure, and one which must end disastrously unless across the desert the right track were followed which would lead without unnecessary delay to the oases. Day by day the caravan went on over the blistering white sand of the desert. The water which they had brought with them failed. They began to suffer the in- creasing agonies of thirst. At length, some of the caravan, their throats on fire, their tongues swollen, half delirious and wholly spent, staggered and fell in the sand. It seemed to them useless to keep up the agony of effort. The desert ap- peared to stretch with mocking emphasis on every side. They never could reach the oases. Perhaps, after all, there were none to reach. But one man, the guide, hardened himself against despair. The oases did exist, he said. They must be near. So he pressed on over a swell of the desert sand, and as he surmounted it, there before him lay the green paradise of the wells of Kufara. Because he believed, in the face of contrary appearance, ‘n the face of doubt and seeming disaster, he 32 Per EO AST Y- )O:-Be, GOD achieved for himself and for others the life-saving Pact, When Columbus set out in his tiny vessels from the port of Spain to find a new way to the Indies, he unfurled the flags of his adventure in the face of a world that mostly viewed his whole imagining with a scornful disbelief. Out’ into the trackless ocean, never dared before, he pointed his prows. Doubtless the men who went with him, drawn from the daredeviltry of Spanish seamanship, were not lacking in courage and resolution; but as the days went on, and the awful loneliness of the empty horizon still stretched before them, they grew mutinous. They thought that they were sailing with a mad adventurer on to death. Columbus himself had no proof that he could give them which had been drawn from any other man’s ex- perience. No living soul had ever crossed those waters before. Upon nothing but his own intre- pid conviction could he stand. Nevertheless he clung so unflinchingly to his belief that these west- ern paths, if followed to the end, would lead to the reality which his imagaination had told him must be true, that he held to his course and com- pelled his crew to follow. Because he did so, the gates were opened to the mighty continent which had lain undiscovered till he showed the way to find it. The whole earth was suddenly enlarged because this man followed his dream. The mighty 35 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD spaces of the western world, which before that time had lain as though non-existent, out of the ken of civilization, suddenly became the heritage for the expanding life of man. Which things, as the New Testament might say, are an allegory. Here are illustrations of the fact that a deliberate conviction in that which is still unseen and unproven and a resulting shaping of the will in terms of that conviction may make the difference between success and failure and be- tween life and death. Follow that illustration into the realm of religion, and we understand the cru- cial value of that instinctive sense of a reality as yet unseen which leads on to the discovery of God. Without God, our spirits may be like vessels on an empty sea or like the caravan bewildered in the desert. To the mind unlighted by religious faith, there may be no reality beyond that which the im- mediate experiences suggest; but if God does exist as a fact beyond the borders of the uninspired consciousness, then it is infinitely tmmportant to know it, for the discovery of Him may be like the discovery of a new continent in which the life of man finds the splendor of its more spacious oppor- tunity, or like the discovery, in the midst of what otherwise would be the desert, of the great oasis with its wells of life. Most people will admit the importance of God and the need of God. Blatant and deliberate Ass ila Beek A WV Y, 2OVR GOD atheism is rare. Men are willing to acknowledge possibilities beyond what they or their neighbors may have laid hold of, and will say like Hamlet, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” But though thus men do not deny that God may be, the trouble with our time is that many con- fessedly have not found Him. They are conscious that He might be a fact of immeasurable signifi- cance for their living if once they became aware of Him; but they are not aware of Him. Many Christians acknowledge this inwardly to them- selves, even when they stand in Church and say the mighty words, “I believe in God.” I Why is this? That is what we want to try to answer. If we can discover some of the reasons why the apprehension of God is difficult for many people today, we can more intelligently see our way to overpass the difficulties which block the road to faith. 1. The first difficulty is the fact that most of us have grown up out of the child’s naive conception of what God is, and we have never attained any other, equally vivid, to take its place. Thought is bewildered; for it knows it cannot conceive God according to the child’s imagery, and, having lost 35 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD that, it has lost all definiteness of conception what- ever and gropes as ina fog. With the passing of the years, we grow out of the old thoughts of God, but do not grow into new ones, and land in empti- ness. Sometimes for men and women God has dropped as completely into the realm of the out- grown imaginations as has the old belief in Santa Claus. One day, shortly after Christmas, I met two little boys whom I knew, one of them about eleven and his small brother about five. I said to the older one, “I hope you had a fine Christmas.” “Well,” he said, “I did; but it was a lot nicer when I was young.” Already he had begun to grow out of the happy illusions which made the keenest thrill and wonderment of Christmas for him. Already the vision splendid had begun to fade into the light of common day. And this is true with the thoughts that have to do with God. For them, too, there is a time of youth, bright with the childish confidence, filled with all sweet, instinctive expectation; and then, it is as though the dream world were shattered before the hard thrust of maturer facts. A little girl of six and her tiny brother of three were heard conversing one day—and this also was at the Christmas sea- son—to this effect. Said the little boy: “Elisa- beth, wouldn’t you like to die?’ ‘To which she, being a matter-of-fact small person, replied en- phatically: “No. Why should I want to die 2’ 36 er Be Roe Ae al Ye Ose) GOD “Well,” he persisted, ‘‘wouldn’t you like to die and go to heaven?” ‘‘What do you want to go to heaven for?” said she. “Well, wouldn’t you like ‘to go to heaven and play around with God and the angels and the little Christ-child?” he persisted. “Oh! He’s grown up long ago,” she answered. At which the little boy was much cast down. For heaven in his imagination was quite as vivid and real a place as his nursery filled with toys, and God and the little Christ-child quite as under- standable as his own father and as any little boy. ‘To play around with God and the angels and the Christ-child,” seemed a very desirable way of spending the time, and quite as real and possible as anything else that might happen in his wonder- crowded world. But what have we grown-up people achieved by way of replacement for the child’s imagination of the unseen? For him there are no intellectual difficulties at all in thinking of God in that same close human way in which he thinks of everything; but the growth of knowledge inexorably takes the child’s mind, even as the other growth takes his body, out of the comfortable crib of the little ideas in which he lay so contentedly and played. The universe has expanded so immeasurably that we are © bewildered in the midst of its shivering immensity of space. Once it was so compact that it was not dificult to think of a God greater than any human 37 SOME OPEN WAYS LONGO being, and yet not removed from human likeness by any too vast degree. The earth was the centre of the whole creation, and above the blue arch of the sky, with the stars like torches at its gates, was the plain locality of heaven; but then to the minds of men accustomed to this limited and man- ageable universe came first the shock of the Coper- nican astronomy. Of a sudden the old conviction that the earth was the centre of all existence van- ished before the awful imagination of a solar system with its immeasurable distances, through which gigantic planets cruise, in comparison with which the tiny globe of earth is like a mote dancing in a ray of the sun. The old thought of heaven there above the visible firmament was rolled up like a scroll, and men’s eyes looked aghast into a vast emptiness between the uncounted stars. When Laplace said that he had searched the heavens with his telescope and found no sign of God, he was only expressing, from the somewhat cynical point of view of the man of learning, the doubt which the common man wistfully felt. God’s throne and abiding place seemed to have vanished, and the mind fainted before the awful distances through which it would have to try to follow Him. Later there came the discoveries of the geolo- gists and brought to the old ideas of time the same dislocation which had already come to the ideas of space. Whatever the immensity of the universe, 38 DHE RE AL ET Ye Ob GOD ‘when men concentrated on the history of their own race on this planet, they found themselves back in the realm of a conception limited enough to be understandable. A few thousand years com- prehended the whole history of mankind from the Garden of Eden to the beginning of the Christian era, and the Old and New Testaments, and Chris- tian history, taking up the story where the New Testament left it off, if judiciously read, made plain the relationship of God with His human children from the definite beginning all down the well- marked way. But the geologists rolled back the beginning of history into a timeless void before which the imagination staggered; and swift upon the heels of the geologists came the new teachers of evolution with their conception of the rise of man out of primitive pre-human forms through a process in which the recorded history is only a little moment in comparison with the aeons of the unrecorded years. There vanishes then like a dream the simple picture of the Garden of Eden, vanishes too the thought of a God who created man and all the world he lives in, as though with visible hands, and in the cool of the day walked in the garden where He had placed the man He made. Before this new teaching many would-be religious folk who wanted to hold on to old con- victions and now did not know how, made doleful clamor. They said—and some say yet—that if 39 SOM EVO PEN OW ALY S. of OGD the evolutionists were listened to, God were as good as lost. If life developed in the way the evolutionists said it did and through the incon- ceivable time which the geologists claimed, then what would become of any thinkable idea of a divine creation? “Ihe very conception of creator- ship seemed to them to vanish, and along with it the Creator Himself. Of course it is true that other suggestions from philosophy and poetry came along to try to fill the void which the troubled religious conscious- ness felt. Men might try to be content, as Words- worth was, with ‘‘A sense sublime Of something far more deeply interfused, Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, And the round ocean, and the living air, And the blue sky, and in the mind of man: A motion and a spirit, that impels All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls through all things.” But it was, after all, a thin contentment. That thought of God might be all very well for a poet’s rhapsody; but it does not feed the actual hunger of the heart. Yet it is as much as many people possess. God is swallowed in His universe. He may “roll through all things’; but it is like the 40 MH aweAL LLY) OF) GOD rolling of a mist which takes elusive shapes and then is gone. That, then, is one reason why faith in God is vague for so many men and women now. We have put away childish things and have not yet won the more mature perception in their place. Before we can effectively believe in God, we must attain a thought of Him which will be adequate for our changed universe, and yet will be close and satis- fying for those same human needs which men feel now as surely as they did when intellectually the universe seemed so simple and so small. 2. The second reason why it may be difficult in our time to believe greatly in God is because we live in the midst of a civilization so huge and self- sufficient that often it seems to make quite unim- portant the question as to whether there is any God or not. It would appear as though the sys- tem which we had created could take care of it- self. There is such multiplicity of physical and material causes producing the things we want that there may not seem any necessity of concerning oneself about a great First Cause who for practi- cal purposes appears to be very remote, even as- suming that He exists at all. In earlier and simpler times that, of course, was not true. When men lived closer to the primal realities, and no long chain of human intermedi- aries intervened between themselves and the 41 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD sources of their life, they were conscious of the more immediate meaning of God. The great prophets often were men who dwelt in the desert. Of such were Elijah, and Amos, and John the Baptist. Moses did not come to Egypt ready for his leadership until he had passed his lonely exile in Sinai. David went down to the camp of Saul to fight Goliath from the solitude of his mountain pastures, where he was alone with his own thoughts and with his sense of the presence of God. Jesus came out of the little town of Na- zareth, and spent his life with men who lived close to the simplicities of nature—fishermen familiar with the daily hazard of the lake, tillers of the fields, carpenters, and other workers with their hands. When men thus do touch for themselves the basic things of earth—the soil with its fer- tility, into which they must cast seed in trust, wind and weather, the unpredictable changes of frost and heat, of sun and storm, then along with the consciousness of their own limitations there grows the sense of reverence for the ultimate power into whose presence they are brought. Standing upon the borderland of fact, they look across it into the realm of mystery with which their daily interests are brought into immediate contact, and it matters vitally whether in the midst of that mystery of the environing forces there is one whom they can call God. Whether the seed will grow, whether the 42 Tbh Reb Ade iD iy OW? GOD tree will blossom and the blossom ripen to its fruit, whether the lake will yield its fish, depends upon there being something friendly at the heart of things which answers to the need of man. The simpler man’s work is, and the nearer he comes to those original elements out of which all human production is built up, the less he can depend upon the manipulations of other men to bring him ad- vantage, and the more he perceives the prime ne- cessity of God. That is why there is usually a more instinctive sense of God, a sturdier and more native religious consciousness, among people who live in the open than among those who live in cities. No long train of artificialities stretches be- tween the results they work for and the sources out of which they come. You can explain a city by expatiating upon the restless energies of men; but you cannot explain that way the ripening of the grain, the silence of the winter snow, or the wakening magic of the birth of spring, the flight of the migrating birds, or the march of stars across the open sky. In our modern civilization, more and more in- dustrialized, men are removed from any fresh per- ception of those things upon which all work and the wealth of the world depend and begin to as- sume that the machinery which brings them the thing they want has somehow created it too. They buy their food in a market to which the railroads 43 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD have brought it. They live in a house which some- body else has built. They wear clothes which have been woven on the looms of some distant factory. Nearly all of the products they consume come to them ready-made out of a process which seems to be everywhere material and nowhere spiritual. Let a man drop a piece of money in the industrial machine, and the intricate wheels of its exchange go round, so that, without further ado, there is delivered to him meat for his dinner, the suit of clothes for him to wear, the book for him to read, or anything else for which, for the price attached, he may choose to call. In this society which we have constructed, it would appear to be quite non- essential to a man’s success that he have any par- ticular idea about God, but very essential that he have an accurate idea of the way to relate him- self to the business machine. God helps those who help themselves, a man is told. The important thing, therefore, is that a man should help him- self. ‘The question as to what God will do, if any- thing, may be left to the pious aftermath of con- sideration in whatever time may be left after the practical matter is seen to. As matters stand with us, God very often does not appear except through some violent dislocation which makes a breach in our complacent order. Steamship companies print on their tickets refer- 44 EL Be Roe A TTY, OCF GOD ence to possible “‘acts of God,” by which they mean storm, fire, collision, and other unpredictable calamity, and give no indication that it may be the “act of God” which drives the turbine, and sets the compass, and illumines the intelligence of the captain who steers the ship. In the healing of the sick, we most of us depend completely upon the physician, and sometimes upon very materialis- tic medicine at that, and turn to God only when it is time for proper words to be said above the dying. The minister may be admitted a few steps before the undertaker. Too many of us are like the passengers on the vessel who, when the cap- tain told them that the storm had become so vio- lent that the ship was in grave peril and they had better go to their cabins and pray, said, ‘Oh, Captain, has it come to that?” In the story of the sinking of the Titanic written by one of the sur- vivors, it has been told that, when men and women stood on the decks of the stricken liner on that still winter night when the iceberg had stabbed her to her doom, and later, when those of them who had not gone down with the liner floated here and there on the empty sea in the life-boats, even those who were little accustomed to religious utterance kept saying the Lord’s Prayer and old hymns like “Nearer my God to Thee’; but while the proud ship was speeding on her way, it is likely that her 45 SOME OREN WANs TO G.@ia company were mostly quite satisfied with the suf- ficiency of that luxurious thing which human skill had built and human confidence had launched. At any rate, that is true of multitudes in the general environment of our elaborate civilization, except when some rare iceberg-thrust brings a sterner realization. We are prone to assume that the de- vices which materialism have created are so satis- fying and so dependable that there is no special incitement to go in search of God. 3. The third reason why belief in God has be- come exceptionally dificult for many persons in our day is because of the contradiction to belief in a loving and sovereign purpose which is caused by the sufferings and the moral evils in the world. Of course these things have been part of men’s ex- perience from the beginning. But two factors of late have accentuated the difficulty. For one thing, there is the almost miraculous development of the means of communication, so that, to the alert in- telligence in any country of the civilized earth, there is immediately brought the news of what- ever critical event may happen in the world’s re- motest places. Until a little more than a century ago, men lived in very narrow circles of movement and of knowledge. They were in touch with the affairs of exceedingly small communities. In the years when America became a nation, it took from 46 erik baal IYO 5G Oi six to nine days for a letter to go from Boston to New York and anywhere from eight weeks to five months for mail to come from England to the United States by way of the sailing vessels that made their way as best they could against the storms and hazards of the Atlantic. Rough roads, muddy and sometimes all but impassable, were the only links of communication between the scat- tered settlements, so that the human awareness of men was provincial to a degree now difficult for us to imagine. The gravest convulsion, either of nature or of war, might break in one country, and by the time the news of it crept through to another people, it would have lost the vividness of immediate fact and become the chronicle of some- thing that had already drifted into the past; but in our modern times, the cable, the telegraph, the newspaper, and now but yesterday the radio, have brought the whole world to the doors of every man’s mind. Mount Etna breaks into eruption in Sicily, and while the smoke and fire of it are still lurid in the Mediterranean sky, men and women are reading of it in Boston and New York and San Francisco. It is not something over and done with, but an immediately contemporary fact which challenges, not only their attention, but their re- sponsibility for help. An earthquake shatters great cities of Japan, kills thousands and tens of 47 SO'MEE CO PRIN OW AWS) wl OnrG md thousands of their inhabitants and leaves a great population destitute, and immediately this thing lays hold, not only of the interest but of the re- sponsible conscience of all civilization, and the calamity becomes a fact upon which the active awareness of innumerable people is concentrated. Thus there is accumulated in the minds of men a mass of impressions which altogether cast their growing shadow over the belief which they might like to cherish in a loving God who holds the earth and its inhabitants in His keeping. The difficulty is made worse by that exaggerated perspective to which the circulation of world news is always sub- ject. The normal processes, both of nature and of human life, the quiet growth of harvests, the homely contentment of millions of families, the inconspicuous acts of human friendships, never get into the news, because they are the common things, taken for granted and assumed as a matter of course; but the calamities, which by the very fact of their singularity stab the attention wide awake, are broadcasted everywhere. Uncon- sciously the ordinary man falls a victim to this dis- torted emphasis. He hears so much of terror and distraction that the world may seem to him a ter- rible and ominous place. What he most often is led to think concerning God is destructive, at least to that sort of idea of Providence which the 48 Sides SO ABO Ch OL kG 0 1 childlike mind may hold. He may come to doubt profoundly whether the evidence of the world gives any right to believe in the supremacy of the only kind of God one would desire. This process in the human mind was very marked during the years of the war. Of a sudden, all the normal course of things seemed to be swept into a maelstrom of darkness and destruc- tion. From all parts of the earth, from Canada, from far-off Australia and New Zealand, from India and from the United States, the youth of the nations, by the tens of thousands, went to die upon the battlefields of France. Everywhere there were empty homes. Everywhere the shadow of a dark anxiety shut down. Europe itself was shaken to its foundations and racked by the con- cussion of human passions worse than the dreadful concussion of the guns. Not only the mind of soldiers at the front but the whole spirit of great peoples was in a measure shell-shocked. ‘There was a cry, sometimes wistful, sometimes wild and blasphemous, ‘‘What has become of God?” “J have been a Christian all my life, but this war is a bit too serious. So saying,” writes C. E. Mon- tague, “a certain young army recruit had folded up his religion in 1914 and put it away, as it were, in a drawer with his other civilian attire to wait until public affairs should again permit of their 49 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD use.’ And the greater question is as to whether the ideas of God and of religion which men may have had before the war and which they laid aside in face of the war’s contradiction have in many cases ever been got out again. Some have given up the effort at interpreting this distracted world of ours in religious terms. To their mind there does not seem to be any living God within it, or, if there is one, then they doubt whether He is sufficient for the task He has on His hands in set- ting a mad world right. Such, then, are some of the difficulties to re- ligious faith, some of them new to our time, some of them old, but now accentuated. Nevertheless, in the face of them, men are hungry for something they cannot find until they find God. It is true now, as it was true with Augustine, that a deep human instinct cries out to something within the unseen, ‘Thou hast made us for thyself, and our hearts are restless till they rest in thee.’ As Sir Philip Gibbs has written: “Yet, by a strange and tragic contradiction, there has been no time in modern history when the peoples of the old civilization have been so des- perately eager for spiritual guidance. There is a great thirst for spiritual refreshment among those in the dry desert of our present discontent. I find expression of that among many men and women not ‘religious’ in temperament nor of a sentimental type, but rather among cynics and realists. In 50 er tae Reba Ly) Oo be) Gor conversation, at the end of pessimism, they are apt to admit that ‘nothing can save us all but some new prophet of God.’ ”’ If One by one, therefore, let us take up the diff- culties which we have seen beset contemporary be- lief in God and consider by what ways we may go through them to the faith which may lie on the other side. 1. We need a new conception of God. We have outgrown, as we saw, the naive, childish thoughts, and we must achieve something at once intellectually intelligible and humanly satisfying to take their place. It is well to remember that there is no occasion for dismay in the fact that this recasting of our ideas is necessary. That old forms of belief prove no longer tenable may be a sign not of death but of expanding life. As Pringle-Pattison has nobly said in his Giffert Lectures: ‘Each time that an earthly body of a belief is laid in the dust, it receives a more glorious spirit- ual body, in which it continues to function as of old in the heart of man. ‘Timid theologians who tremble for the ark of God at every advance of scientific knowledge do but repeat the sacrilege of Uzzah in the sacred legend, smitten by the anger Ly! SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD of heaven for his officious interference. Faith, which is an active belief in the reality of the ideal, is the very breath by which humanity lives, and it will reconstitute itself afresh as long as the race endures.”’ In order to restate our thought of God, we need to begin at the centre of our own most vital knowl- edge and to work outward from that. ‘The one thing which every man knows with immediacy of understanding is his own self. He is aware of himself as a living focus of sensation, thought, de- sire, and action. He is a mind that meditates, a consciousness which feels and discriminates be- tween this and that, a will that launches its ener- gies into his environment. In short, the man him- self is not his body, nor the material world in which his body moves, but that living and energizing self-consciousness, the invisible but most real per- sonality which he knows when he shuts his eyes and looks within. Here within ourselves, in the aware- ness of one separate spirit, every one of us has his most certain consciousness of reality. Now we turn to the words of Jesus, and we read that He said, ‘‘God is a spirit.” If then we want to real- ize the meaning of God, we may well begin by considering what a spirit is and what it does. In- stead of looking first for the reflection of God in the material creation, in solar systems and geologic processes which bewilder the imagina- §2 Tea EY ORE Ak WC Ys Obes GOD tion, in the making of worlds and rocks and trees and all the designs of things too intricate for us to unravel, we had better postpone all these which we can never know except at second-hand, and look at our own selves, which we know at first-hand, and see what idea of God we can find reflected there. When we try that, we come close to some very simple facts, and simple facts are exactly what we need. It may turn out that, in order to find God and understand Him, we do not have to enter upon some elaborate process of argument, but only to take at their clear value the very clearest of our everyday experiences. That clearest and most cer- tain experience is the fact that the invisible spirit which we call ourself is constantly projecting its expression and making its influence felt out in the world of the visible things. A great orator stands up and pleads a cause. People may say that they look at him and see him standing there before their eyes; but, as a matter of fact, of course they do not see him at all. They only see a more or less ani- mated face. They hear some sounds which are made by tongue and teeth in rapid motion. And yet by these means the miracle is being wrought that the man there before them, the invisible per- son who is looking through that face and speaking through that voice, does use those instruments to convey his thoughts into the minds of those other invisible persons who sit in the listening throng. a SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD Meanwhile where is the man who is pouring out the passion of his plea? He is there in his body, of course, you say. Butishe? He uses his body; but he certainly is not in it in any limited spatial sense. He is in control of a body which is the fo- cus of his self-expression; but he is not only there, if the multitude is listening to him; he in a real sense is as truly yonder among the crowd as he is at the place where his body stands. Thus while he remains himself, the man is entering into other selves, and not merely into different persons in suc- cession, but into many persons at the same time. Wherever he makes himself understood and felt, there the actual spiritual fact of him is. To make still more clear what I mean, let me put it this way. I know of two men who live in different cities, and one day one of them fell to thinking of his absent friend. He sat down and wrote him a letter, simply to tell him that he was thinking of him and missing the sight of him. A few days later there came a reply from the one to whom the letter went, and this is what he wrote. He said, ‘Your letter came at exactly the right time. It so happened that I was feeling very blue and discouraged that morning because I was facing a business interview which I shrank from very much. The men whom I was to meet had been prejudiced against me by representations made to them beforehand to my disadvantage, and I had 54 Te beOR bh Ao leh Y" .Ob.G.OD very little hope of being able to get my own pro- posal fairly considered. Then your letter came, ‘just when a feller needed a friend,’ and bucked me up so that I went to the meeting with a new con- fidence, presented my case with conviction and car- ried the point I was fighting for.” Where that day was the man who wrote the first letter of affection to his absent friend? In com- mon speech it would be said that he was where his body was—that is to say, that he was hundreds of miles distant from the city where that friend of his was facing his particular difficulty; and yet it 1s perfectly clear, as a matter of living fact, that he was not only where visibly he seemed to be, but also where his friend, with the apprehension of his spirit, found him to be. The thought of the one had gone out to the other. His affection and sym- pathy were with his friend, and to that friend’s apprehension it was exactly as though he were there. In the immediate relationship to his friend’s consciousness, that is exactly where he was. When men were at the front in France, they were often desperately lonely. Sometimes in their loneliness, when they got out of the lines, they would go and do unclean things because all the decent safeguards of home were far away. But there were men who carried with them a picture of their mother, or a Bible perhaps which they had a8) SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD had from her. Another man might have with him, there in the pocket of his uniform, a letter from the girl he loved at home. When they remem- bered these, they were aware of something that bridged the far distance between themselves and home. The spirit of the one they loved was stand- ing at their side with a sweetness of high expecta- tion, and confidence, and strength; and those men were stayed, and kept clean and courageous, be- cause of the presence that walked, unseen to others, at their side. Such facts as these help at least to point the way toward our right thought of God. The more we think of our own spirits and of the human spirits which come into touch with ours, the more we com- prehend the living Reality, invisible and imma- terial, which can express itself irrespective of space or time. The beauty of this conception of God is that it is not something to be settled by abstract argu- ment, but that it can be put to the test. It need not be inferred from books. It can be demon- strated through obedience. As there are certain laws of the physical world by which, when a man conforms to them, he possesses power which is ready to flow through them to him, so there are spiritual laws concerning the communication of God through which a man may test the truth of that which he would fain believe in. Both in the 56 Ri akeA TTY, (One Gow physical world and in the spiritual, the miracles of the realized experience wait for him who will not stop before the empty curtain of appearance. We sit, for example, in a room where all is silent. There are no voices in the air, we think, and yet there are. Let a man set up the antenne of his radio. Let him turn its adjustment by so much as a hair, and suddenly out of the void come the voices. Here is the music of someone singing yon- der in a distant place. Here are the accents of a man speaking on some great national concern. These things are going on in the world whether we are conscious or unconscious; but when we adjust ourselves to them, they become part of the world in which we live and move and have our being. Thus is it also with our spiritual contacts with God. As material science makes plain to us that the uni- verse is full of possibilities hitherto undreamed of, to which we can link our familiar experience, so religion teaches us that the spiritual atmosphere also is filled at every instant with those energies that speak directly to the soul of man. God is not far from any one of us. He is near and close, personally to be known, lived in, and thereby proved. But someone may say of this idea that God exists and can make Himself felt by us in the same way in which one human personality makes itself upon another, that all the corroborative evidences 57 SOME) OPEN WANS, “CO mGaoe® which make us able to believe in the human per- sonality are lacking in the case of God. We hear another person speak, and so infer directly the liv- ing consciousness which is speaking. We see the expression on the visible face. We look at the light in visible eyes; but we cannot see any embodi- ment of God nor hear any accents of His voice, and there are apparently endless logical difficulties to believing thus in God. How do we know that our thought of Him is anything more than the im- age of our own desire projected into the empty infinite,.as the tiny picture within the stereopticon is projected outside itself upon a screen? That is what much of the modern psychology is saying: religion is simply an interior complex; God is a figment of our own brains. To that question this is the answer. Let us re- member what happens when men lay hold of the bold hypothesis—if in the beginning it be no more than that—that God is the living Spirit with whom their own spirits can come into touch in the same essential way in which one human spirit enters into the life of another. It is true that we identify every human personality whom we know with a particular human body—with a face and eyes and a look we love—in which that person seems to dwell; but the more we reflect upon the inner real- ity of spirit, and the more we experience the power of another spirit to find us, to follow us, and to 58 PH be eR EAL Ty: OR? GOD touch our inner understanding, the more we begin at least to find it thinkable that the infinite Spirit of God can be independent of any physical focus, and that, though He does not dwell in any body which our physical eyes can look upon, neverthe- less from that centre of thought and love and will which is Himself, the immediate reality of His Spirit can go out everywhere to all His children who will let themselves become aware of Him. And when a life is joined in belief to God, then the experience of religion proclaims that there 1s such a blossoming as testifies to the reality of the cause which has produced it. Fruit does not grow unless it is joined to the living tree; and if through the influence of religion, the spirits of men do be- come fruitful with new courage, confidence, and hopeful power, then it may fairly be concluded that they are joined to the tree of life the roots of which are final truth. This puts the proof of religion in the realm of practical testing where it ought to be. It does not solve all philosophical difficulties. It does not work out a finished chart as to how God has been related to all history in the evolutionary process. We can wait for further light on that if once we have achieved a standing ground in our own ex- perience. If a man feels within himself, and his neighbors perceive in him, a new fulness of life ‘which he possesses in exact proportion as he be- a SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD lieves in and lays hold upon a reality outside him- self, then that man presents the one witness for God which is ultimately convincing. Nothing less can satisfy any one of us. If once we are satisfied to that extent, then we know with an indubitable inner conviction that we have laid hold upon the divine fact which somehow and sometime will in- terpret the rest of the universe which now we do not understand. 2. The second difficulty in the way of belief in God today we saw to be the self-sufficiency of our modern civilization. That dificulty, however, is by no means as stubborn now as it was a little time ago. Men’s confidence in their ability by a shrewd materialism to produce all that they want has been considerably chilled since 1914. The stones of our piled-up materialism cannot by themselves make a structure in which the life of men can securely dwell. Unless these things are cemented together by the mortar of a moral consciousness, the whole building comes tumbling about our ears. That is exactly what has been happening in the last decade, and men look up out of the debris and confusion where their towers of Babel have fallen down and begin to ask themselves whether the trouble was that they builded without thought of God. Is He needed, after all, to hold together even that fabric of our so-called practical affairs which once we 60 Dl RE ALT Yo? OR? GOD thought could be the sufficiency that should prove we had no need of Him? What is the reason why the world is so slow to recover from the shock of the war? What is the cause for the continued prostration of so much of Europe? It is not lack of physical resources. There are the same fields with the same fertility as before. The sun shines, and the rain falls, and the grain would grow. In spite of brutal destruction here and there, trees bud in the forest, and coal and iron ore in abundance can be taken out of the ground. The technical skill which men had before the war has not been lost; but the human factor in industry has been disrupted. The problem of Eu- rope and the problem of the world is not material but spiritual. We are face to face with the stag- gering fact that, in a world full of potential pros- perity, factories can stand idle and crowds of hun- gry and hopeless men wander unemployed. Whole populations can feel the pinch of bitter privation, and nations can stagger toward the precipice of anarchy and economic dissolution, all because the human spirit is torn by suspicion, jealousy and hate. Human passions have got into a vicious circle where they go round and round in their own blind madness. The wisest men begin to think that there is no power to break it, unless a power greater than any of our contemptible little selfish calculations reaches down to touch the hearts of 61 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD men with a religious passion which will deliver them from themselves. Furthermore, the war brought to a focus and exhibited in unmistakable fashion the result of tendencies which had been operating everywhere in supposedly peaceful pursuits, and it has made plain that in our conduct of everyday affairs we may be heading straight for disaster unless we can put into the hearts of men those very religious convictions which we had thought that we could get along without. Industry and business had come to be in large measure war. The interest of the individual was pitted against some other individ- ual, the interest of one industrial class against an- other class, everyone following the supposed wis- dom of selfishness: that the prize is to the strong, the race is to the swift, and may the devil take the hindmost. ‘The result is that there is a pleasant prospect that the devil may take us all. Capital- ists who have manipulated their privileges to ex- tort money from the public and to grind the last ounce of effort out of the men whose labor they control, and workmen whose one idea of their part in the community, now that their day of power has come, seems to consist in extorting as high wages as possible by any method of strikes and intimida- tion, while making the work they do more slovenly and shoddy all the time—these between them have cursed our world with so much stupid wasteful- 62 Tei ke AGL) bin y \ OP 4G Ob ness and deliberate inferiority that it is hard for any one to consider what we have produced with- out a bad taste in his mouth. Against such facts the hopeful and inspiring thing is that men of vision are realizing the difh- culty and setting themselves to correct it. Here and there in the midst of industry are rising the leaders who see that a new spirit must be brought into our common work if its results are to be suc- cessful; that there must be a codperation of a finer mutual confidence; that, in order that the wheels of industry may turn without friction and collision, there must be a new human spirit in the wheels. A recent number of the “Survey Graphic’ car- ried an article entitled, ‘““B. & O. Engine Number 1003.” It describes what has been happening in the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad shops at Glen- wood. After the long and costly strike of the railroad shopmen in 1922, this particular railroad determined that a new start had to be made in the relationship between the directors of the industry and the men who did the work. Consequently a policy was worked out of coéperation in produc- tion and stabilization in employment, in which the men, through their union representatives, were in- vited to join with the managers in organizing the conduct of the shop. Formerly the men’s organi- zation represented one interest, the managers an- other. Now the deliberate effort was made to 63 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD recognize and to express a community of interest. The men were asked in their own union lodge rooms, which formerly had served the negative function of a military base for the laborer fighting against the interest of the employer, to take as part of their own province a discussion of produc- tion, workmanship, job analysis, tool requirements, and material supply. And the opinion of the men, shaped by discussion from their own knowledge and experience, was then carried up to conference with the managers for the ordering of the shop on the basis of common agreement. The result of all this was Engine Number 1003. When it went out upon the tracks, it was the symbol, not only of a new industrial order of things, but of a new human fellowship. It was the outward and visible sign of a reconstruction of the attitudes of management and men toward one another. In other words, it was the sign of that which the wisest leaders, both in the ranks of capital and labor, are beginning to find out, namely, that there can be no industrial efficiency without a right human spirit—and when we speak of a right human spirit, we are going down to those deep realities of character the ad- justment of which is fundamentally religious. In April, 1924, there died in Atlanta Mr. John J. Eagan, President of the American Cast Iron Pipe Company. He left an extraordinary will, according to which he assigned all the common 64 TH Ba aoa Bit Yr Fis G OzD stock of his company to trustees who should con- trol the company for the sole purpose of enabling it “to deliver the company’s product to persons requiring it, at actual cost, which shall be consid- ered the lowest possible price consistent with the maintenance and extension of the company’s plant or plants and business and the payment of reason- able salaries and wages to all the employes of said company, my object being to insure ‘service’ both to the purchasing public and to labor on the basis of the Golden Rule given by our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.” The experiment at Glenwood and the will of Mr. Eagan might be put aside as isolated and pe- culiar; but though they are extraordinary, they are neither isolated nor peculiar. They are ex- pressions of a spirit which is spreading rapidly through American business and industry. They are illustrations of the fact that men are feeling the urge of so adjusting their practical affairs that the deep human instincts of codperation, kindli- ness, and mutual service shall not be thwarted and repressed, but instead shall find their full expres- sion in the practical interests of every day. Is it not plain that here the roads are open for a nobler consciousness of the presence of God? Here are the mighty energies of the nation in shop and factory and mine. It is possible for these things to represent policies so relentless and cruel 65 8 OME) OPEN OWaACY S30 OliG aap —and in the long run so stupid—that they repress and pervert all the finer human instincts. Con- ceived merely in terms of competitive selfishness, the intended pursuit of profit can mean the de- struction of men’s souls. It can make a mockery of religion by reducing daily life to a sordid selfish- ness barren of any ideal; but through the ugliness of those old conceptions, the nobler possibility breaks like sunlight. As Ramsay MacDonald, the Prime Minister of Great Britain, has written: “The convictions of the heart are never stilled. They not only are unsleeping in supplying stand- ards of excellence alien to those in common use by which the work of Society is appraised, but also in their demands that social structure shall be determined by the higher requirements and by nothing else. . .. The pluto which heaves be- neath Society and which sends tremors through its apparently solid mass is the spirit to which we do homage as Christianity. There lies the conflict. The end may be far off. It may be separated from these times by turmoil, revolution, madness. But the spirit will not die down, because it is one of the powers of creation.’ And in order that those mighty forces of the human spirit which inevitably will remake our social order may work their crea- tive changes not through “turmoil, revolution, madness,” the deliberate conscience of our time must acrept its social responsibility with a relig- 66 WHE eR Pe Aeb Y) < O.ky GOD ious imagination. All the energies of men, as well as the products of the earth, can be used as the gifts of God. Industry can be made a holy thing, deliberately conceived so as to develop a better quality of life in those who work for it and to produce the materials for more spacious living for the people at large. To catch the gleam of that desire is to bring the glory of God down into drafting-room and shop and union lodge and office of management. It is to treat the daily work with religious understanding and to make men fellow- workers with God, for the expression through their commonest work of high purposes in which their spirits can expand. It is to make religion a living fact because the real success of what men do is found to be dependent upon obedience to those very principles of human brotherhood which conscience always had vaguely apprehended and now can boldly recognize to be the voice of God. 3. Finally there is the difficulty in the way of be- lief in God caused by the suffering and moral evil of our world. How can we believe in God, men ask, in the face of contradictions to the only kind of a God, loving, compassionate, and dependable, who would be worth believing in? Confronted by that challenge, we go back and face the totality of facts. It is perfectly true that there is in our world the tragedy of much evil, with all its moral contradiction. Yet evil is not 67 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD the only thing we find. Side by side with it, we mark the extraordinary uprising of the human spirit perfected into nobler expression by the very evil itself, to meet the moral need, and overcome it. This fact we cannot leave out of the reckon- ing. There are two elements in the reality, evil and the goodness which grapples with it. To which of these shall we give our verdict as the one most likely to hold the clue to truth? The characteristic of religion is that it dares to cast its hazard on the nobler side. Religious faith espouses its conviction of God, in spite of all those appearances which for the moment are contradic- tory, and deliberately selects out of its knowledge the nobler elements and throws the substance of its life into the scale to prove these good. In such a faith as that the great souls in all the centuries have dared to live. We turn back and read the old story of Joseph sold into Egypt by his brethren, condemned to undeserved disasters, yet through the stark evil that everywhere seemed to be arrayed against him, battling his courageous way toward that triumph of his own integrity which was all the brighter because of the odds through which he fought. The greatness of his living lay in the fact that he never whimpered beneath misfortune nor lost his confidence in the ultimate guidance of God, even when defeat and disillusionment shut in most darkly round him. 68 THE REALITY OF) GOD In that final day when his brethren who had sold him as a slave into Egypt stood before him lifted now to power next to Pharaoh, Joseph, remember- ing all the evil they had done him, could look be- neath that to the mysterious and blessed power which had overruled it by His own better way. “So now it was not you that sent me hither. It was God,” he said—God, who had turned the very instruments of evil into honor and praise. So Paul, through the sufferings he endured for the Cross of Christ, could hear the inward voice that spoke to him: ‘‘My grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is made perfect in weak- ness,” and he answered, ‘“‘Most gladly, therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessi- ties, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.” And through Gethsemane Jesus Himself went on, past Calvary, to the vindication of Easter morning. There in His agony in the garden, all the dark shadow of human sin closed down. It is possible, of course, for men to think that the Gethsemanes of life have the last word to say, and that the roads of reality end on the hill where the cross of unmerited suffering may be the final por- tion not only of the evil, but also of the good. But religion dares to hold that tragedy and dark- 69 SOME OPENS W AY So OlG Op ness never are the end, and that past these things there is the leading of the hand of God which brings men out to the vindication of a mightier life. III Thus the way is open for belief in God. The difficulties which are incident to our time can dis- solve like a fog through which one passes to the sunlight on the other side. Yet it is not enough to recognize that the way is open. We must go ahead to walk upon that way. It is not enough to believe in God. In actual fact we must find Him. How, then, shall we do that? 1. First of all, we enable ourselves to appropri- ate the reality by letting our thoughts dwell on the wonder of its living fact. There comes a point where we need to lay aside all those abstract con- ceptions of religion which busy themselves with speculations of this and that. We must lift our souls to consider the glowing truth of a God who ultimately needs not to be argued about, needs not to be proved by theories, a God who is, and who in His own impulse reaches out to us. We can be quiet in our own searchings and let our spirits expand with the thrilling consciousness that we ourselves are sought by Him. ‘‘We love Him,” wrote St. John, ‘because He first loved us.” “I 70 hte REALITY OF) GOD press on,” said St. Paul, “if so be that I may ap- prehend that for which I am already appre- hended.” No less objectively sure than the hands which we reach up to God are the hands of the steady love with which He reaches down to us. “Do you wake?” asked St. Bernard. “Well, He too is awake. If you arise in the night-time, if you anticipate to your utmost your earliest awaking, you will already find Him awaking. You will never anticipate His own awakings. In such an intercourse, you will always be rash if you at- tribute any priority, any predominant share to yourself; for He loves both more than you love and before you love at all.” Once we have steeped our spirits in this con- sciousness, then the whole aspect of our world be- comes a different thing. No longer are we wan- dering wistfully in what may prove a void, depend- ing upon our desperate desire to find something which may not be there. We are moving instead through a creation filled with the spirit of Him who has made it, and who, through a thousand points of contact, presses home to the souls of men whom He has created for Himself. 2. God can come close to us through the beauty of external things. No one can contemplate the life of Jesus without perceiving how real was this religious ministry which earth and field and sky wrought for Him. Up into the hills He went Ae SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD when He would commune with God, or under the brooding stillness of overhanging trees, or out in the wide darkness, lighted only by the quiet stars. The glint of a bird’s wing, the color of the flowers in the field, the wide shimmer of the blue waters of the lake, were eloquent of a beauty deeper than all transient form—the inexhaustible beauty of the grace of God, whose purposes are beautiful for all his children’s life. Even as Jesus did, so do we also need to do. We need to look at the loveli- ness of the universe around us, not merely as those who look at sights of aesthetic pleasantness, but with the expectation of those who remember that through the things they see may come the conscious- ness of the living God, with whom the commonest bush may be aflame. To stand, even if it be but for a moment, by the open window at the waking of the day and look into the wideness of the sky; to catch a glimpse, through the noonday turmoil, of a tree or flower, or the glint of water at the end of a crowded street; to lift the eye at evening to the quiet of the stars—even these little things may be enough to keep open the channels through which the reality of God shall flow. Only the other day I heard of a girl who bent over her typewriter, high up in one of the great office buildings of lower New York, weary and dejected, when another girl came by and saw her. By a quick instinct she per- ceived that something was wrong, and called her 72 RE REAL DY OF: GOD to the window. There below them, beyond the rush of the city, lay the flowing river, reaching out toward the far horizon and the distant suggestion of the sea. ‘Whenever I get tired,” the second one said, ‘I come and stand and look at that, and it makes me remember that God is big enough to take care of me.” 3. Again, God can come home to us as a living reality through the routine of daily duty. There is no need of that division by which so much of life is often set apart as secular and treated as an uninspired thing, to be lighted only with fugi- tive glimpses from special moments of religious experience, attained only in a particular place and on a particular day. Through God, in whom all life may live and move and have its being, all the commonest responsibilities may become gateways of the divine. If God has put His children at the posts of ordinary faithfulness, the communication there and then of the grace which comes from God, the lifting up of our daily occupations from shal- lowness of interest into the more brimming fulness of an inspiring meaning, depends simply upon our recognition of the divine possibility which is al- ready there. The smallest duty has within itself the capacity to hold the greatness of God. What is needed simply is that our spiritual awareness should open the channel gates through which the tidal consciousness of God shall enter. rs: SOME | OPEN WAYS TO GOD In his life of the great reformer, Dr. McGif- fert has quoted these fine words of Martin Luther: “What you do in your house is worth as much as if you did it up in Heaven for our Lord God. For what we do in our calling here on earth in accord- ance with His word and command He counts as if it were done in heaven for Him.... In whatever calling God has placed you do not aban- don it when you become a Christian. If you are a servant, a maid, a workman, a master, a house- wife, a mayor, a prince, do whatever your position demands. For it does not interfere with your Christian faith and you can serve God rightly in any vocation. ... Therefore we should accus- tom ourselves to think of our position and work as sacred and well-pleasing to God, not on its own account, but because of the word and faith from which our obedience flows. No Christian should despise his position if he is living in accordance with the word of God, but should say, ‘I believe in Jesus Christ, and do as the ten commandments teach, and pray that our dear Lord God may help me thus to do”... It looks like a great thing when a monk renounces everything, goes into a cloister, lives a life of asceticism, fasts, watches, prays and the like. On the other hand it looks like a small thing when a maid cooks, and cleans, and does other housework. But because God's command is there, even such a lowly employment must be praised as a service of God, far surpass- ing the holiness and asceticism of all monks and nuns. 74 WHE REALTY: OF) ‘GOD To those words of Luther might well be added these which were written by a Chinese woman to whom the knowledge of God through Jesus Christ had come: “When opening the door, I pray Thee, Lord, to ppen the door of my heart that I may receive Thee, Lord, within. “When washing clothes, I pray Thee, Lord, to wash my heart and make it pure and white as snow. “When sweeping the floor, I pray Thee, Lord, sweep my heart from all evil and make it clean. “When buying oil, I pray Thee, Lord, to give me wisdom like the wise virgins who had the oil ready in their vessels. “When receiving or sending letters, I pray Thee, Lord, to give me more faith that I may hold con- stant communication with ‘Thee. “When drawing water, I pray Thee, Lord, to give me the Living Water that I may never thirst. “When lighting the lamp, I pray Thee, Lord, let Thy true light shine within my heart, and make me in all that I do to be kind and good like a lamp which lightens others. “When watering plants, I pray Thee, Lord, to send down spiritual showers upon my heart so that it may bring forth good fruit. “When boiling water to infuse tea, I pray Thee, Lord, to give spiritual fire to warm my cold heart, and give me a heart on fire to serve bees 4. Finally, and best of all, the consciousness of God may come to us through our friendships, and 75 5 OoMCE VOLPE NAVAS Goa our loves. It is impossible to see some other life which manifestly is filled with holiness and beauty without feeling God’s Spirit there. It is the busi- ness of religion to make continually more explicit this recognition of God as He comes through hu- man souls. A reading of the lives of great Chris- tian saints and heroes will open new windows into the apprehension of God. A constant study of the life of Christ, of course, is best of all. But not only through the figures of the historic past, but also through our comrades of the present, this reality of God may be presented. To see in the faithfulness of some friend, in the invincible de- votion of the mother, in the loyalty through good or ill of a woman to the man she has married, that which surpasses a mere individual excellence and represents instead some of the meaning of the eternal holiness and love, is to come into con- tact with the presence of God. So also this finding of God through personal relationships is not only a matter of what we per- ceive, but also of what we create. The best way for any life to possess the glory of God is to con- vey God to another. If, for example, the mother thinks greatly of her child and her child’s possi- bilities, if she desires for that child not mere in- dulgence in trivialities and shallow make-believes, : but rather the deep worth of character and of true accomplishment, then she will know that she must 76 RHE RE ALT TY (OB GOD lay hold of a life that is abler than her own, and the instinctive outpouring of her own desire toward her child will make her draw from the fulness of God to fulfil that which is lacking in herself. If a man wants to serve his friend, or if in company with others of like spirit with him- self, he wants to serve some public cause of truth and righteousness, he too, the more he gives him- self to the utmost to that which unselfishly he wants to accomplish, will call to himself the real- ized comradeship of God. The better and nobler any soul tries to make the contribution of its life to others, the more it becomes aware of its need of God, and the more vividly it becomes assured of Him as-He comes to supply that need. There are many whose fine sense of responsibility makes them say, as they look upon the sorrows and hun- gers and unfulfilled possibilities of the lives that touch their own, in the words of the parable of Jesus, “A friend of mine has come to me in his journey, and I have nothing to set before him,” and because they want to set before him that real food of the Spirit which they do not sufficiently possess, they go and knock at the doors of God, and pass those doors to which an unselfish need has sent them, they find themselves face to face with Him. “I will therefore,” said Luther, “sive myself as a sort of Christ to my neigh- bor, as Christ has given himself to me, and will do 77 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD nothing in this life except what I see to be need- ful, advantageous, and wholesome for my neigh- bor, since through faith I abound in all good things in Christ . . .... Man does not live for himself alone in this mortal body, in order to work on its account, but also for all men on earth; nay, he lives only for others and not for himself. For to this end he brings his own body into subjection that he may be able to serve more sincerely and freely .... Itis the part of a Christian to take care of his body for the very purpose that by its soundness and well-being he may be able to labor and to acquire and save property for the aid of those who are in want, that thus the strong member may serve the weak, and we may be sons of God, thoughtful and busy one for the other, bearing one another’s burdens and so fulfilling the law of Christ. Behold, here is the truly Chris- tian life, here is faith really working by love, when it applies itself with joy and love to the work of freest servitude, in which it serves others freely and spontaneously, itself abundantly satisfied with the fulness and riches of its own faith.” Thus through the fulness of experience men may lay hold of the fact of God. As the only way to understand life is by living, so the only way to know the present power of the divine life is to live in sympathy with the divine. When men order their choices, their assumptions of what is 78 TARE mR AL Tn) Oe By Gi Oni real, and their experiment of action in the light of a trust in the living God; when with deliberate eyes they shape their adventure on the roads of faith;—at the end of it they shall find the fulfil- ment of the promise, /f with all your hearts ye truly seek me, ye shall ever surely find me, saith the Lord. 79 CHAPTER III JESUS CHRIST THE most remarkable element in the question of belief in Jesus Christ is the fact that it should interest us at all. On the day when He died, nothing seemed more evident than that the world would take account of Him no more. He had lived for a little time, not more than thirty-three years at most, in an unimportant province of the Roman Empire. His preaching and His ministry, though welcomed by the common people, had been met by a growing hostility among the leaders of His people both in Church and State. At length they pitted their authority against His in one decisive trial of strength, and to all appearances they had won. The crowd had turned away from Him, some of them cowed, some of them angered and resentful that the deliverance and prosperity which they thought He would bring them had not come to pass. The Chief Priests arrested Him in the Garden of Gethsemane. With the mob stream- ing behind, they carried Him before the Roman Governor, Pilate, whom they so intimidated that he delivered Jesus up to be crucified. Between two thieves on Calvary, they put Him to death. 80 JESUS CHRIST They mocked Him as He hung there dying, and when the day was over and they turned back to the city, that broken body on the cross against the sky seemed the manifest witness that Jesus was defeated and that His enemies were tri- umphant. It looked as though they were right when they said He pretended to a power He did not have. He was out of their way now, once and for all. They and their successors need con- cern themselves no further with Him. Since that time some nineteen centuries have gone by. The Chief Priests have sunk into ob- livion. All their little power and pride is buried with the dust of long dead centuries; but the Man they thought they killed they did not kill. His Spirit is alive in the world today. Out to the far quarters of a world more vast than that which any man in Palestine ever dreamed, His Name has been carried. The cross which once was a symbol of defeat and shame has become a sacra- mental thing in the strength of which heroes have struggled and martyrs have died and saints in dra- matic and undramatic places have fashioned the stuff of nobler living day by day. That fact needs no explanatory theories to make it wonderful. It needs no cloud of argument gathering round it to make it loom magnified in size like an object seen in a mist. There it stands on the horizon of the world’s realities like some mighty mountain-peak 81 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD towering sheer above all surrounding things, glis- tening between the earth and sky. Whatever else men may believe or doubt concerning Jesus, they cannot escape the fact that the men were wrong who thought that they had finished their reckon- ing with Him when they nailed Him to His cross. The power that was in Him conquered His con- querors. He is a fact that cannot be forgotten. Tie must be dealt with for yea or nay. There is something immeasurably awe-inspiring in this fact of the inescapableness of Jesus. The symbol of the mountain does not sufficiently ex- press Him. It is not alone that His continuing power is like a silent witness, an historic fact which we can abstractly consider from afar. Rather it is a living presence that follows on all the paths of men. Like the Hound of Heaven, the strange authority of His pursuing Spirit haunts the minds of men, and “Still with unhurrying chase, And unperturbed pace, Deliberate speed, majestic instancy, Come on the following Feet, And a Voice above their beat— ‘Naught shelters thee, who wilt not shelter Me.’ ” Recognizing, therefore, the unquestionable sig- nificance of Jesus Christ. for the intellectual and spiritual interests of men, what we want to do is 82 PE Os ACT KT Sul to consider as clearly and thoroughly as we can, how and why it was that He was attained, and whether in this twentieth century He still can hold, this extraordinary position to which the history of nineteen hundred years bears record. I As we go forward to this consideration, we re- member that there are two elements in the esti- mate which men have had of Jesus, and it is this double fact which has led to the deep and often passionate differences of interpretation concerning Him. For He has been accounted not simply a great exemplar of the strength and winsomeness of human personality, not simply one among the saints and heroes who witness to the noble striv- ings of the human soul; He has been lifted to that divine supremacy before which all other human souls bow down. It is not only that He has relig- ious and inspirational value, He has become Him- self a religion. When, therefore, we try to under- stand Him, it is this complex fact which we must try to understand. Our thought will deal, there- fore, with a subject which has great heights and depths of wonder, and widenesses of meaning where our ordinary analyses may stand halted upon the borderland of mystery into which only a very sensitive intuition can press through. Nevertheless, though it is true that men’s 83 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD thought of Jesus is bound thus to lead ultimately to facts which tax the utmost richness of their ex- planation, yet it is not true that there is needed any standing ground of an elaborate learning from which to begin. Nothing has been more respon- sible for the confused and hopeless ideas which many people have of Christianity, than the heavy insistence of some theologians that all the ponder- ous ideas which thinkers have arrived at should be dinned into the ears of the inquirer when he first asks who and what Jesus may be. As a matter of fact, the real knowledge of Him always has begun and always will begin, from very vital sim- plicities. ‘That is the way it was for the first dis- ciples, and those today who would recapture their experience must begin where they began. I. First, then, let us consider how the attach- ment of the original disciples to Jesus did actually take place. It was a very simple thing at first—that attach- ment of themselves to Him. They did not start with any elaborate theories about Him. They did not join themselves to His company through any articulated theological reasons. It was a very human matter of personal attraction. They were going about their ordinary business with no notion of any extraordinary career about to open before them, and then this figure crossed their paths. His environment and His associations had not been 84 JESUS) (CHRIST different from that of other men; but He was different. There was a strength and a magnetism about Him which marked Him out from the crowd. There was a strange quality of leadership and an ability to win confidence and to awaken love. So when He invited men to come with Him, they fol- lowed Him as though it were the most natural thing in the world to do. Peter and Andrew and James and John left the fishing boats where they were, pulled up the nets by the side of the lake, abandoned the old work which they had followed all their life, to go with Him. Levi the tax-gath- erer gave up the position which doubtless he had gotten through much shrewd pains and costly ef- fort. Tax-gathering had been all very well until He saw Jesus, and then the old job lost its allure- ment. It was only a poor, sordid thing beside this new chance, and he turned his back upon it once for all. So also the others were gathered into the fellowship. They did not know what it was all going to lead to, but they were content simply to know that they would rather follow Jesus and try to live like Him than to do anything else in the world. 2. It is plain, however, that to say that the dis- ciples followed Jesus simply because they felt this passing attraction of His human personality is not the whole of the story. That was not the way they ended. They saw Him at first as a man like other 85 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD men, only greater, more masterful, and more win- some. They came finally to see that there was in Him something so vast that their everyday human explanations never could compass it all. Down various tracks of wandering, their minds began to go in search of an understanding of this personality of Jesus, which every day grew more impressive before their eyes. Those first disciples were Jews, so they followed first of all the gleam of that great ideal which had been kindled by the prophets of Israel like a beacon-fire upon the mountains, shining down the long pathways of a people’s hope. In every Jewish heart there was the slumbering dream of the coming of Messiah. He should be God’s Deliverer, bringing in the new day of release and blessing for His chosen people. Often the expectation of the Messiah had come to assume very concrete and materialistic form. He should be the Conqueror, and should build Himself a spiritual kingdom in which those who followed Him should rule with an authority from God. Flashes of this idea strike fire more than once through the pages of the Gospels, from the mind of the crowd and from the minds of the disciples themselves. In the Fourth Gospel it is recounted that once a multitude seemed about to come to take Jesus by force and make Him a king. The revolutionary instincts of Israel searching for 86 JESUS CHRIST a leader flooded round this figure with His extra- ordinary strength and command. The disciples also had caught some of the excitement of this hope. One day James and John came to Jesus, saying, ‘Master, we would that thou shouldst do for us whatsoever we shall desire.” And he said unto them, ‘“‘What would ye that I should do for you?” They said unto him, ‘‘Grant unto us that we may sit, one on thy right hand, and the other on thy left hand, in thy glory.” They desired the thrones that should be next to His in the kingdom which they hoped might be set up. It was a hard lesson, but one which the disciples had to learn, that the idea of Messiah and His Kingdom which they shared with the crowd was not the idea of Jesus. He had not come to be a conqueror by any force of arms. He had come to bring a new order of human relationships to the earth, but not by any weapons of violence. He had come with the persuasion of the beauty of God’s holiness and the power of God’s love, to venture for an infinite gain which must be bought at desperate present loss. He would win a final spiritual victory for which the hearts of men could be made ready only through the witness of His own readiness to suffer and to die in its behalf. So— challenging the sins of men in high places and call- ing common men to a pitch of consecration from 87 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD which they often rebelled in anger—Jesus moved straight forward to the inevitable collision of His life with the misunderstanding and hatred which were to crucify Him. He died, and with His death, it looked as though to His disciples there had come a double and complete disaster. The human personality which they had loved and fol- lowed had been killed. The hope of a great de- liverance of God through Him as Messiah had been brought to nothing. But through the strait gate of what seemed for the moment their utter loss, the disciples found themselves suddenly passing out into a spacious world of new understanding. Jesus had died, but He was not dead. No one can read the records of the early Church as they are preserved in the Gospels, in the Book of Acts, and in the Epistles, without perceiving the invincible certainty which the disciples possessed that they had again been in contact with the risen and living Spirit of Jesus. He had come back to them to bring them the cer- tainty of the triumph and love of God. Then in the light of that fact they began to see all their previous experience in a new perspective. The old crude thoughts of an earthly kingdom of Messiah did not matter any more. What counted was that Jesus had brought them God. In His presence they had felt the nearness of God. There was 88 JESUS CHRIST a new light on even the common things. There was a gladness in living because there was a sense of the greatness of life. God, who to many people is only a distant name, had been to them a glow- ing fact which they had experienced through Jesus. He was that “which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled, of the Word Ofiten: When men have found God, they know then that they have found the only thing which su- premely satisfies their hunger. All the selfish covet- ings and the mean ambitions are the husks with which men try to feed themselves when still un- wittingly they are starved for God. The disciples had thought they wanted thrones, wealth, and the other honors which the crowd clamored for. Now they found that, whatever else they had or failed to have, made little difference so long as they had the fulness of God in joy and peace and strength coming to them through Jesus. Life had found its source of power and its centre of rest. Through every changing appearance they could trust the reality which they had seen Jesus live by. The great Life, without which men’s little lives are empty, had come to them, and behold, the in- finite was revealed to be near and human and understanding because they had seen it and had touched it in Jesus. 89 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD We shall never understand the meaning of Christian theology until we realize the deep roots of the personal experience out of which it grew. In Jesus, men for the first time seemed to possess that which wistfully through many centuries the heart of man had been desiring. In the dark lone- liness which seemed to shut him off from God, Job cried out, “For he is not a man, as I am, that I should answer him, and we should come together in judgment. Neither is there any daysman be- twixt us, that might lay his hand upon us both.” Again and again, out of the human darkness, that cry has sounded—the cry for a God who might come near and interpret Himself to human need. That cry throbs with an instinct equally poignant and real whether it express itself in some childish word or in the thought of a religious seer. One night a little girl was left in her bed upstairs, as her mother kissed her good night and went down for the evening. To the child, reluctant to be left alone, the mother said, “‘But dearest, you are not alone. Your doll is here, and then you know that God is always with you.” “Yes,” said the child, “but even if I have my doll, and even if God is here, I want somebody with a skin face!” And with far lift of language from that of the little child, yet with the same simplicity of wistful de- sire, Browning makes David sing to Saul: 90 JESUS CHRIST “Tis the weakness in strength, that I cry for! my flesh, that I seek In the Godhead! I seek and I find it. O Saul it shall be A Face like my face that receives thee; a Man like to me, Thou shalt love and be loved by, forever: a Hand like this hand Shall throw open the gates of new life to thee! See the Christ stand!” Men who long ago stood in the presence of Jesus and those who spiritually have stood in His pres- ence since then have felt this intimate precious- ness of God come close to them in Him. They know that there is nothing greater they could ask than that God in all the fulness of His reality should be just what Jesus was and is. So the movement of Christian faith has always been from the known Jesus out into what, save for Him, might be the unknown or the dimly known. It has been truly said that the doctrine of the divinity of Jesus is not so much a doctrine about Jesus as it is a doctrine about God. Here is His figure clear for us to understand, with His beauty of holl- ness, His white hatred of sin, and yet His infinite tenderness for the struggling sinner, His strength, and yet His gentleness, His might of moral au- thority and His stoop of infinite compassion. Is gl SOME’ OPEN? WAYS 270 “GiOgg God like that? This is what we want to know. And the leap of Christian faith proclaims tri- umphantly that He is. The destinies of the uni- verse, the ultimate control for ourselves, and for the forces which affect us, are in the hands of Him whom Jesus called His Father and whose nature we may understand through the One who knew Him best. It is because of that sure confidence which moves through its experience of Jesus as the Way and the Truth that one can write as Dr. Grenfell has written: “This is what life means to me—a place where a Father above deals ditter- ently with His different children but with all in love; a place where true joys do not hang on material pegs, and where all the while the fact that God our Father is on His throne lines every cloud with gold.” The theologies of Christendom are simply the effort to put into words some expression of that reality of God as found through Jesus which men have always felt more deeply and more surely than they can ever explain. It is a mistake to hold any theological formulas with too desperate an importance, for no one of them fully represents nor contains within itself the fulness of the experi- ence out of which it grew. Already in the New Testament we can see the blossomings of various theologies. The Gospel of John has one way of trying to explain the meaning of Jesus as the Word Q2 PES Us CP RUSE of God. Paul has other ways of thought and other terms. The writer of the letter to the Hebrews has others yet. And all down through the Chris- tian centuries there have been many efforts both by individual seers and saints and by great councils, meeting together, to try to formulate their creeds to express the meaning of Jesus. The so-called Nicene Creed, for example, still regularly used in far the greater part of Christendom, represents the effort of the most acute thinkers and devoted teachers of the Church in the fourth century, to proclaim in sufficient form the permanent elements of Christian belief. They taught the Church to confess its faith “in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only begotten Son of God, begotten of His Father before all worlds, God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God, begotten not made, being of one substance with the Father, by whom all things were made.” There is no question but that these words, to many persons not habituated to them, have today an antique and unreal sound. They represent categories of thinking into which the conceptions of our time do not instinctively fit. They express religious values according to the con- cepts of the fourth century Greek philosophical tradition which to men living then was as native as the tongue they spoke, but which, to our later mind, has become somewhat awkward and con- Pde. SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD strained. In the Nicene Creed, therefore, and in all other efforts of individuals or Church councils to express in words the meaning of Jesus Christ, two elements must be distinguished. On the one hand, there is a form of expression necessarily local, necessarily transient, and never to be made by any mistaken hardening of Church tradition into a straitjacket for the mind of the Church in later times. On the other hand, there is the religious conviction itself which was striving for expression, and this living thing which created the form 1s that which enduringly needs to be understood and re- possessed. The expressions in creeds and theolo- gies are like flowers, full of the odors of a rich devotion, often very beautiful, but no one of them final nor exhaustive; and the changing centuries will inevitably bring forth new blossomings of in- terpretation from that which is always the source of Christian life, namely the deep rootage of the heart and conscience in the experienced reality of the nature of Jesus. Usually our best theologies are not in formal creeds, which may have about them the inevitable rigidity which comes from being hammered out in the midst of men’s intellectual conflicts. The best theologies are our prayers and hymns, for these preserve the quickened heart-beat, the rhap- sody, the lift of wings, the thrill of the inner song, Ey CES US CE REST which are the ever vital marks of the real religion. “My Jesus, my King, my Life, my Ali, I again dedicate my whole self to Thee,” wrote David Livingston on his last birthday; and Bernard of Clairvaux sang long ago the truth in which the Christian spirit perennially is glad: ‘Jesus, Thou Joy of loving hearts! Thou Fount of life! Thou Light of men! From the best bliss that earth imparts We turn unfilled to Thee again. ‘Thy truth unchanged hath ever stood; Thou savest those that on Thee call; To them that seek Thee, Thou art good, To them that find Thee, all in all.” II Thus far we have been speaking generally about the personality of Jesus Christ. The fact, how- ever, cannot be ignored that for innumerable people the thought of Jesus Christ Himself is so confused with certain perplexities which they find in their reading of the New Testament that they are uncertain whether or not they can truly say that they believe in Jesus Christ in any way which organized Christianity would acknowledge. They cannot somehow get His figure out of its back- 2h SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD ground into a distinctness and approachableness which make their conviction able to lay hold on Him. According to the New Testament accounts and according to the interpretation of these which some very emphatic Christian teachers say is ne- cessary, the figure of Jesus seems to draw behind it a great train of representations so remote from our present experience that He Himself seems to be involved in a cloud that dims the outlines of His reality. Men say that in our time we are not accustomed to miracles, and do not expect them, but the New Testament account seems to be full of miracles. How, then, are we going to get the figure of Jesus vividly present in the world of our contemporary thought and experience, if we are to be dogmatically obliged to think of Him in terms of the New Testament miracle narratives, liter- ally interpreted and completely received? Here is a real difficulty, and we must meet it fairly and try to find a way through. What con- ception of the New Testament miracles can we arrive at which will retain for us a reverent sense of the essential value of the biblical tradition, and yet not force us to identify the ministry of Jesus with conditions fundamentally different from any with which we can possibly be familiar today? As we do thus try to consider the whole matter of the miracles and our possibility of knowledge 96 JESUS CHRIST concerning them, we realize that there is a double element in the material presented for our think- ing. In the first place, there was the fact of a supreme personality uniquely in touch with those resources which lie beyond the common boundary of our ordinary experience. The spirit of Jesus, in its contact with men and with matter too (that matter which our latest science reveals to be a thing so mysterious in its amazing energies), was alto- gether likely to produce reactions of an extraor- dinarily vital kind. That is one element of the record as it comes down to us; but the other ele- ment is this. The record was written in an age which had no conception of the exactitudes of science such as we know. It was written by men of Oriental mind, full of symbolism and poetry, indifferent to our literalisms, men who cared more for the color and spiritual impression of the fact than for its prosaic measurements. Neither their temperament nor their interest inclined them to make an absolute facsimile of the event they de- scribed, with every factor of evidence laboriously verified and unerringly set down. ‘They were poets of the wonder of their Lord, not prose investi- gators furnishing material for the laboratories of undreamt-of commentators. It is no more pos- sible to get out of some of the Gospel records of the miracles objective and first-hand knowledge of O% SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD the original fact than it is possible to count the blades of grass in the field of a landscape which some artist has painted. Unquestionably this makes a difficulty for our thought today. We can well believe that thrilling things occurred when Jesus stood in the presence of the needs of men, but exactly how to separate the occurrence, as modern scientific eyes might view it, from the lu- minous mist of the tradition through which it comes to us, we simply do not know. Yet there is no reason why we should be troubled about that. We do not have to know everything all at once. We can make the best of what we do know and leave the rest to be found out when the time may come. Some of the mira- cles, as we read them in the Gospels, are easier to appropriate with a full sense of reality than are some others. The most recent truth which men are learning in the realm of mental diseases gives new vividness to those incidents in which Jesus laid hold of some poor disassociated per- sonality, with its wild, evil instincts in possession, and, by the authority of His spirit, so brought it into wholeness that the ‘“‘casting out of devils” was not too strong a term for those who saw that heal- ing to employ. Neither is it difficult for the rey- erent spirit to conceive of the blind suddenly re- possessing sight, of men who had been deaf be- 98 JESUS CHRIST coming able to hear again, of the lame leaping up to walk, before that tremendous power which the surcharged life of Jesus could communicate. Other accounts of miracles puzzle us more,— such, for example, as the story of the coin in the fish’s mouth, the withering of the fig tree, the turning of the water to wine, the walking on the water, and the physical multiplying of the loaves and fishes. In the case of some of these, the difficulty is that they do not seem consonant with our conception of the spirit of Jesus. Did He actually pronounce a curse upon a fig tree because He found no fruit on it, so that the next day the disciples saw it to be withered from the root up? Did He actually send Peter to catch a fish in the lake and cause a coin to appear in the fish’s mouth for the astonished Peter to discover? It is true that we find these things written in our New Testament; but, drawn far more vividly there, is a picture of Jesus in His constant avoidance of mere wonder-working with which these accounts do not seem to agree. There- fore, does the story of a particular fig tree with- ered, represent a fact, or is it a later report which grew out of Jesus’ parable concerning an unfruit- ful tree? And may not the story of the coin in the fish’s mouth go back to some incident much simpler and more nearly related to the familiar ways of 99 SOME OPEN TW YS DO (Gow Jesus, which the crude imagination of the crowd laid hold of, and with the unconscious bias of the popular desire for magic and marvel, made into the story which had become part of the tradition when the evangelist wrote? ‘These are questions which earnest students of our gospels ask them- selves, not because they lack faith in the gospels but because they have such an overwhelming faith in that personality of Jesus which the gospels pre- sent that any detail which clashes with that is of necessity set aside for further scrutiny. In the case of some of the other miracles, the difficulty is a different one. For example, in the story of the walking on the water, in the phv;ical multiplying of the loaves and fishes, and even in the turning of the water into wine, there is noth- ing out of harmony with the spirit of Jesus, who, though He never used His powers for mere dis- play yet did always instantly bring the utmost that was in Him unselfishly to meet the needs of His friends. Rather the difficulty here is one of ad- justing the tradition concerning Jesus to the re- sults of our observation of the actual ways of God. Does God ordain, and did He ordain, that our physical universe should be as malleable to the touch of even the divinest human hands as some of these accounts of miracles, in the form in which we now have them, represent? Such a ques- 100 [BS USsC RH RUS tion embodies no unfaith, and certainly no denial. It may arise in minds quite free from any ante- cedent stubbornness of idea that things unprece- dented are impossible with God. In this wide unt- verse, so full of marvel and of mystery, and breath- ing everywhere the infinite creativeness of Him who is behind it, nothing need be impossible. But the question is one of balancing probabilities from all the evidence which we are bound to take into account. Somehow there must be a sure thread of consistency which shall bind together all that we are meant to learn of the life of Jesus with all that the God of truth reveals to us in His work- ings always and everywhere. We see that His spirit does enable His children, just in so far as they are eager and obedient to discover His law, to heal diseases of body, mind and soul; and so we are the more swift to recognize that He who was uniquely the Son of the Infinite could give men life and soundness in such essential ways as the gospel has described. But we do not see signs that it is the Father’s way of working that human bodies should walk on water, or that men’s hunger should be fed by the short cut of a physical mir- acle which immediately multiplies the sustenance at hand. Perhaps that was His way with Jesus, in exactly such forms as the evangelists report. It is also possible that He means for all human IOI SOME OREN WAYS (LO eG Gao life to aspire toward the same such spiritual mas- tery over this physical universe, as rapidly as the human spirit approximates toward the nature of Jesus. No Christian disciple can fail to contem- plate that possibility with a reverent awe. Yet, on the other hand, it is certainly true that even for Jesus Himself the physical order was often not malleable, and that the glory of His spirit rose to its supreme expression precisely because it did con- front a world which in its Gethsemane and its Cal- vary was, for the moment, so intractable. Also, as we study the long record of the Christian gen- erations since the Master lived, it would appear that God’s ways are long and patient, dependent too not on extraneous marvels but on the disci- plined activities of men’s minds and souls. Ap- parently He has put us in a world which, in its underlying framework, is an ordered system, a world in which we cannot feed the hungry merely by a touch, but can feed them in a society in which all shall work in honorable toil and each shall share what he has with his neighbor; a world in which fire will burn, and water will drown, and death will kill even the saints and heroes whose victory is to come not through physical miracles, but through the triumph of the spirit over all physical things whatever. With these different considerations weighing in the balances of judg- 102 Ges US he Fe Ris ment, it is natural that the scales should incline this way for some people and that way for others. Some will feel that just because Jesus Himself was so different, what He did must therefore have been different. They will accept all the reports of miracles exactly as they stand and accept them the more readily just because they so uniquely transcend all usual human experience. But for other minds, there will be preponderant weight in the thought that Jesus’ life was meant to be nor- mative for all those who seek to follow Him, that so far at least as we have yet been able to discover, there are certain physical limitations past which it is not normative that our powers should go, and that the gospel accounts concerning Jesus, passing as they did through the medium of men who were not much concerned with scientific veri- fication, may need some re-thinking to lead us back to the original fact. Certainly there is no room for dogmatic insistence here. In many things our vision may be too limited and our spiritual experience too immature to understand aright. But surely we may know that it carinot be wrong to confess uncertainty, since there is enough in the gospels which does agree with all that we see of the ways of God for us not to be unduly troubled if our judgment frankly stands in suspense con- cerning certain accounts of miracles which, in their 103 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD present form, do not fit intelligibly in to the rest of our knowledge of the ways of God. III Besides the questions of miracles wrought by Jesus, there is the even greater matter of the miracles recounted by the gospels as wrought in Him. One of these is the Resurrection, the other the Virgin Birth. 1. Now concerning the Resurrection,—if it were an unrelated fact, there would doubtless be a tendency in the minds of many to question it, simply because our usual human experience seems to give us little vivid and immediate evidence of a rising from the dead. But it is not an unrelated fact. It stands linked with certain other very great and evident historic realities which cannot be evaded and of which the Resurrection presents itself as the explantion. These realities have to do with the existence of the Christian Church. Here the Church is, a fact inwrought into the history of the centuries; here it is as one of the dominant influences in the life of a great part of the human race since Jesus of Nazareth lived on earth. How did the Church come into being? It began, of course, in the fel- lowship which gathered round Jesus Himself; but the death of Jesus, if nothing else had followed 104 TESUS TCH RUS D that, would have been the end of the fellowship. No unprejudiced student of the records can avoid that conclusion. When Jesus died and the dis- ciples had taken His body down from the cross and laid it in the grave, they turned with blank eyes to face one another in the midst of what appeared an empty world. Life had seemed to come to an end for them. It was as though the heavens were brass and the earth were full of mocking voices. They thought they had followed the Savior, and now they were turning away from the tomb where, pierced and outraged, the crucified body of Him they had loved was laid. There is no sign that in these men who had loved Jesus there ex- isted then any courage to carry on His work. They were paralyzed with a blank hopelessness. Their spirits staggered as a man staggers who has been struck a mortal blow. The dreams which had been so fair in the life they had lived with Him, vanished before a ghastly disillusionment. What was there left to do but to go back to Galilee and begin life over again on the old and commonplace plane from which they had risen for a time on the wings of an aspiration which seemed forever broken? 7 That, then, is all that there seemed to be for present or future when Jesus died. But something happened to produce a contrast sudden and complete. 105 SOME ORIEN “WATS TO "GO On the morning of the first day of the week, certain disciples of Jesus, going to the tomb where they had laid His body, came back with the tidings that He was not there. That day the figure of Jesus appeared in the garden to Mary Magda- lene; He appeared also to Peter; He showed Him- self to all the disciples gathered together in an upper room. At least that is what the disciples said, and the record consists not only in what they said but in what they did in the strength of what they said. The clear fact stands that men, who on the day of the crucifixion were bowed in despair, now were lifted up in the transfigurement of a new confidence. They began to preach in Jeru- salem—in the place where Jesus had died and where His enemies were centered—their convic- tion that He was risen victorious into life. Upon that faith, in spite of persecution and death, they built a Church. Upon the wings of that faith they went out as missionaries into the world. They created the new fact of a spiritual experience which depended upon fellowship with the risen Christ, and by that they built an organization which, with all outward odds against it, neverthe- less prevailed and spread and grew. It is interesting, also, to note that the most characteristic observances of the Christian Church testify to the central fact of the Resurrection. 106 JESUSy CHRIS LT The early disciples, as Jews, had kept the seventh day of the week as the Sabbath. Nothing less than some overwhelming influence could have made them depart from an observance so bulwarked by all their inherited sense of an absolute religious authority. Yet they changed from the seventh day to the first day of the week for the Christian day of worship, and all through the years since the beginning, every opening of Christian doors for worship on the first day of the week is the repeated witness to the faith in the Resurrection which the first disciples said had happened on that day. The sacrament of the Communion, also, owes its spiritual greatness to belief in the Resurrection. Had it been a mere memorial of Jesus’ death, its observance would have died out because the hopes which had gathered round Jesus Himself would have stood defeated; but since those first days the Communion has represented for Christian disciples a Communion with the living Lord. Without the power of that faith, this central act in Christian worship would long since have dis- appeared. Therefore, when men ask themselves whether or not they shall believe in the Resurrection, they must face the question as to how they can explain certain inescapable facts of history without it. If 107 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD our intellectual processes are to be coherent, we are bound to recognize that great results require us to find some cause adequate to explain them. A light and flippant skepticism might wave aside the Resurrection, but it cannot wave aside the facts which the Resurrection, or something equal to it, is needed to account for. Cowed men are not turned into men who lay down their lives for a conviction, the spirit of despair is not turned into a conquering and unswerving faith, a great organi- zation which binds together through the centuries multitudes of men and women in the power of what they claim to be a living experience, cannot come into existence and endure without some vast reality out of which so great a consequence could reason- ably proceed. Therefore, for the mind which is not deliberately biased against the spiritual possi- bilities of our universe,—for the mind, that is to say, which has not destroyed its impartial receptiv- ity to truth by arbitrarily describing beforehand the limits within which reality shall move—belief in the Resurrection of Jesus can become far more rational than any disbelief. For, indeed, there is a sense in which the Resurrection was no miracle at all. It would have been far more surprising and less natural that it should not have happened than that it should. For such a spirit as Jesus, nothing could seem so normal as a continuing and 108 JESUS CHRIST victorious life; and the inherent sense of spiritual fitness links itself with the facts of history to con- firm the faith that the Resurrection did occur. Nothing else than the living influence of Jesus could have transformed human lives and have made that power of the early Church which we have already considered; and the simplest way to understand that influence is to recognize that ex- actly that thing happened which all the New Test- ament proclaims. Of the details and manner of the Resurrection, the various accounts in the New Testament are not always clear; but this great fact stands forth, and only in the light of it is the history intelligible—namely, that Jesus who had been put to death, came back to His disciples in a fashion so convincing that they knew that it was He. 2. Then there is the story of the Virgin Birth. Concerning this, as everybody knows, there has been of late a discussion earnest almost to the point of passion. Some people in the Church, as well as people outside it, have held that the doc- trine of the Virgin Birth has no necessary con- nection with belief in Jesus as the Incarnation of the life of God, and others insist that, without the Virgin Birth, all the fulness of the old belief would be built on sand. Take the conservative position first. It has the ereat strength of seeming to be the bulwark of 109 SOME: OREN UWAYS (20 "GO a conception of the value of Jesus which is of immeasurable importance. For there are two ideas about Jesus, and they differ widely, not merely in theological clothing, but in actual prag- matic value. One idea would rest content with the belief that in Him we have the highest achieve- ment of humanity. He is the spiritual mountain- peak towering above all lesser heights, thrusting up most grandly toward the sky. He is man at his highest, man most filled with the consciousness that points the way to God. It is obvious that such a conception of Jesus is beautiful and inspiring; but it is equally obvious that it leaves empty spaces in the depths of human desire for what men want to know. For this would still leave men saying to themselves, “In Jesus we know what man ought to be like when he reaches up toward God. But do we know what God is like? We are try- ing to get to Him. But is He trying to come to us? May there, after all, be vast elements in the nature of God which do not correspond to this aspiration of the human soul which we see in Jesus? Jesus was loving. But is God really loy- ing? Jesus valued the least of human souls. But does God stoop to the lowly? Jesus we can under- stand. But can we understand God?’ That is where we are left if we think of Jesus as only the farthest adventure and discovery of the human spirit out into the realms of the infinite. I1O PEt Clo) CERES ok But the result is wholly different when one fol- lows the richer faith of Christendom. According to that faith, Jesus was not only an excursion of human excellence upward. He is the incursion of God’s reality coming down to us. In Him we may feel that the finite and the infinite are linked, and that the great tides from the ocean of God flood full into our human life. Believing this, the Chris- tian can believe that though, with his limited knowledge, he cannot know all that there is of God, yet, nevertheless, there will be nothing in God which is inconsistent with what he does know in Jesus. All the beginning and end of reality find their focus in that great soul. What Jesus was is not only what man courageously in his lone- ly effort must try to be. It is what God is and therefore what the God in man is destined to become. All this the great consensus of Christian thought has always believed, and it io a belief without which Christianity would be infinitely tmpover- ished. So far, as to the chief facts of the past and as to the values of the present, there is agree- ment. But as concerns the question of what the spe- cific conceptions are out of which these beliefs are reached and in the strength in which their values will be preserved, there is a marked, and, in our day, a very eloquent division. Conservative theo- III SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD logians who hold fast to the letter of the tradi- tion, tell us that the only way in which one can surely possess the full sense of the meaning of Jesus is by holding literally to that belief in His entrance into the world by a miraculous birth which has for a long time been a teaching of the Church. I say “for a long time” rather than ‘from the first,” because much of the present dis- cussion hinges on the point as to whether the Gos- pels of Luke and Matthew, as we now have them, represent the original tradition, or only a later representation of the birth of Jesus of which the first gospel traditions and the first apos- tolic writings knew nothing. Nevertheless, the conservative belief is not only that Jesus was born of a human mother (a deep fact which the first Christians were eager to safeguard in order that the certainty of His humanity might be understood), not only that He was born of Mary, the white-souled Maid of Nazareth, but also that He was born of her through a physical miracle. He thinks that without exactly this kind of conception of the story of the Virgin Birth, it is impossible to believe in Jesus’ uniqueness at all. And sometimes the conservative is very em- phatic in his insistence that the Christian thinker who recognizes less readily than he the authority of tradition, has no proper place in the Church’s recognition at all. The conservative finds certain 112 FES US (CHRISIE traditional gates of such absolute value for him that he is inclined to think that no other gates exist; and, confronted with the apparent fact that other persons who did not go through his gate somehow have arrived at the same conviction in which he wants to dwell, he either declares that their apparent presence in any such proper theo- logical place is an hallucination contrary to the facts, or else that if they are there they climbed like trespassers over the wall and ought to be put out. Whereas what these other disciples are main- taining is that the circuit of the walls is wide, and that there really are gates on the other side through which they have come into the Holy City, and that the Holy City is quite the same place to them that it is to their conservative brothers who have come up the more travelled way. In short, those within the Church who may be called today the liberals, differ from the con- servatives in this: they believe that the important thing is not the direction from which, but the destination to which, conviction comes. ‘They agree with the conservatives that Jesus is the ful- ness of the Godhead bodily, and that God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself; but they are mastered by the conviction that the ques- tion of a biological miracle has nothing essentially to do with this divineness of Jesus. It seems to them that we could believe Him to be not less fully 113 SOME OPEN’ WAYS TO GOD divine if the Church had never possessed the chap- ters concerning the infancy in Matthew and Luke and had known of its Master only from the rest of the gospels and from the epistles of the New Tes- tament, through all of which men seem to be find- ing Him their Lord and yet implicitly assuming that He was Joseph and Mary’s son. As Jesus Himself taught us, God is a Spirit, and the full coming of God who is the Spirit, into the soul of the Man of Nazareth, is a reality which moves on a level with which the physical question has noth- ing to do. What then shall be said today to the would-be disciple of Jesus Christ who finds neither his in- tellectual conviction nor his religious emotion laid hold of by the traditional teaching which insists on a physical miracle of the Virgin Birth? I know what I should say, for I know what I say to my own soul. I am a child of my own genera- tion. I cannot escape the influence of the things which we know and believe today. I know that many New Testament scholars, spending their life in trying to discover, not some argumentative support of traditional beliefs, but truth and the truth only, find the evidence for a physically mi- raculous birth of Jesus open to historic question. They point out that it may be, not a fact in that plodding sense of prose which our western mind is accustomed to, but the poetry of spiritual belief 114 JESUS + CE RT Soh in which the oriental mind represented the unique- ness of the Lord. I remember, too, and this is most important, that Mark, who wrote the first gospel and wrote it because he thought that there- in he had summed up what men needed to know of Jesus for the saving of their souls, made no slightest mention of the Virgin Birth. I remember that the fourth gospel, which bears the name of the Beloved Disciple John, has no mention of it, and that, on the contrary, its whole conception of the relation between Jesus of Nazareth and the invisible Father is built upon ideas which have no need of a physically miraculous birth to make the oneness of the Father and the Son complete. I remember too that Paul, that flaming messenger of the greatness of his Lord, needed no word con- cerning such manner of birth in the gospel which he preached. He never wrote of it to any of his churches nor seemed to find it vital in his own faith. Then in the light of these things, I say to myself, and say to any inquiring souls who come to me, “It is not needful that we be troubled if we have doubts about the Virgin Birth, nor has any man or group of men a right to make that honest difficulty of the mind into a barrier between the soul and the Master whom it seeks.” I can not say to myself, and I can not proclaim in my preaching, that a man must believe in a physically miraculous birth in order to believe in Jesus es SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD Christ as Son of God and Savior. I believe that the Incarnation may be so interpreted that the fulness of God in Jesus may be felt as truly by those who do not, as by those who do, believe that He was thus born. Our whole philosophical background is changed from that in relation to which men thought when the creeds were written. We do not think in the old way of a mingling of substances between the divine and the human as the method by which the life that was to bring God and man together must have been created. The only crucial miracle is the miracle of the Spirit. God, as Jesus said, is a Spirit, and if we believe it to be true that the Spirit which was in Jesus of Nazareth is completely and finally the embodiment for us of the Spirit of the eternal God, then Jesus is the Lord for us in a fulness which no manner of birth one way or the other can affect. That being so, a man can say the Apostles’ or the Nicene Creed and rejoice to Say it, even though he may frankly be uncertain whether the Virgin Birth was demonstrable fact, or only a rev- erent and lovely tradition of the early Church. What the creeds in the deep heart of them have cherished, that he also cherishes. He believes in Jesus coming to this world from God, incarnating here God’s fulness as no other life has done, rising from death in the triumph of His eternal life, In- 116 FES US VC MRS terpreter for us of all reality, Foundation-Stone upon which we build all that we would try to be and do. He was conceived of the Holy Ghost. Yes. He was born of the Virgin Mary. Yes. But whether, when a man says that, he is confi- dent that in literal terms some unprecedented phys- ical miracle was wrought, or whether the only thing he is sure of is that, over the coming of that Spirit of Jesus into this world and His sheltering by the love of the Mother who bore Him, God’s spirit brooded in such marvelous way that the spiritual miracle was wrought of that life of Jesus which all the Christian generations have known and have adored, equally the Jesus whom he confesses can be to him the Savior who is the Incarnation of the all-sufiicient God. In the Gospel of St. Luke stands the lovely story of the Annunciation Angel, of the Maid of Na- zareth, and of the Holy Night in Bethlehem when the choirs of Christmas angels sang. I would treat these exquisite records with a wondering reverence, as every sensitive spirit must; I would not touch with one fingerweight of contrary in- fluence the glad freedom of any Christian disciple to accept these as the exact record of literal and physical fact. No one can disprove that such they were; and surely no Christian will forget that round the incomparable figure of Jesus are far horizons of mystery where our precise analysis 117 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD can never reach. Yet to those who find it neither helpful nor possible to read the story of the mira- culous birth as scientific literalism, it is right to say that what the earliest gospel never mentioned, what Peter and John and Paul, so far as the New Testament writings give any indication, never preached, is not necessary for the heart’s full faith now in the Incarnate Son of God. The eager, yet intellectually perplexed believer, can lift the creeds into that realm of poetry where the spirit finds its wings, and say to himself, I may think of the greatness of Jesus not in terms of my ability to afirm a physical miracle of birth for Him, but in His ability, as the eternal and self-evidencing power of God, to bring the divine birth of the Spirit down among men, and to bring it—if I will have it so—again today in me. By such use as that, the creeds are not belittled; rather they are lifted to their noblest and most vital worth. For thus they become an evidence of that which ever ought to be true of the Christian Church——namely, that the fellowship of Jesus is built not upon identity in definitions but upon a community of devotion. Loving Jesus Christ, two men may stand together and confess their faith in Him through the Church’s ancient words, and by their brotherhood in that confession be each the more uplifted, even though from the central ground of their common loyalty to their Lord 118 JESUS HOH R Usa their thoughts may range on different ways. One man may accept the creeds with an utter literalism, holding even to those conceptions which most thoughtful minds of this generation, and the im- plicit judgment of a large part of the Church it- self, have moved beyond. When he proclaims his faith in God the Father, ‘Maker of Heaven and earth,” his thought may repudiate the whole conception of evolution which multitudes in Chris- tendom today accept, and may cling instead to the idea of the earth created in six days of twenty- four hours each, as for centuries the whole Church inflexibly believed. When he repeats that Jesus “ascended into heaven,” he may picture the form of Jesus as visibly moving upward through the clouds until it came to the gates of heaven, there only a little beyond men’s sight within the sky. When he speaks of ‘“‘the resurrection of the body,” he may mean the re-assembling of all those physi- cal particles which belong to the mortal body that is buried—as also through many centuries the vast preponderance of the Church’s teaching pro- claimed. And when he speaks of Jesus as “born of the Virgin Mary,” he may mean the physical miracle which most of the Church’s interpreters insist upon now. Certainly no one would question the Church’s welcome for the man who thus con- ceives the creed. And on exactly the same ground, the Church, being wise enough to know 119 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD that willing devotion is more important than in- tellectual infallibility, welcomes equally the other man, who conceives the creed not in terms of a once orthodox but now largely outgrown past, but in terms of what the thought of the Church partly now is, and of what he believes in further part it will come to be. And this man will claim his heritage as simply and rightfully as the tradition- alist claims his. He may think that if the Church were framing a creed now for the first time it might conceivably frame one which should have less debatable metaphysic in it than the Nicene Creed, and a larger emphasis on the Gospel of Jesus—instead of the Church’s doctrine about Jesus—than either the Nicene or the Asoptles’ Creed expresses. He may think it possible that the Church of tomorrow may incorporate into her liturgy new creedal expressions born of the desire more clearly, more simply, and more command- ingly to commit the would-be Christian to that program of the Kingdom of God which Jesus lived and died for. He will be ready to make plain wherein his own thought differs from some of the traditional interpretations of the accepted creeds, and he will commit his vindication to that living and widening judgment of the Church to which every unafraid disciple has the right to ap- peal, But he recognizes the heritage of history, and he prizes fellowship rather than division. He I20 JESUS CHRIST perceives that for the corporate worship of the congregation, the historic creeds—like ancient flags, the very dust upon whose folds is hallowed —bring a glory of suggestion which no symbol sewed together out of the most exactly colored words of our modern thinking could now bring; and so with that same essential devotion which the worshippers of other centuries have expressed, he takes the words of the creed upon his lips. IV Realizing thus that the supreme concern for Christians is not a uniformity of opinion about Jesus, but a religious appropriation of the reality which was in Him, I should like to conclude this chapter by making plain the practical meaning of certain great truths which Christian theology has long sought to express. 1. To begin with, there is the Incarnation. The Christian faith is that in Jesus the divine and hu- man came into a union which is unique in its saving importance for all the life of men. We lose the meaning of that belief if we make it a mere spec- ulation about Jesus. We gain it only as we make it the revelation of new possibilities through Him for ourselves. For the Christian conception holds that Jesus of Nazareth was that perfect embodiment of the 121 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD life of 'God’and of the'meaning of God fomeie human children which all the long aspiration of the years had been dimly reaching for. Because of the Christ in Him, He seemed unspeakably different from all other men; and yet, at the same moment, this paradox was true,—that because of the Christ that was in Him, he drew others to Him and made them feel that somehow they never found themselves until they had joined their lives with His. The Christ in Him was what He alone fully was, but what all men in the truest destiny of their spirits are meant to try to be. So the Christ that was in Jesus comes and stands by every man forever. It is Jesus-like. It speaks to us again with the voice of Jesus. It holds out to us hands like His. It bids us walk on paths where Jesus’ feet have gone. And the Christ in Jesus is not some alien principle separated by a great gulf from the essential nature in ourselves. We only recognize God in Him because that which is of God in us, blind, fumbling, imperfect though it be, reaches up to claim its own in Him. The Christ who walks beside us is forever God and man, the beauty and holiness which are so far above us coming down to incarnate themselves in the struggling ideals that are within. For every man the Christ-voice that calls him to come home to his Father has in it a strange intimacy of com- pulsion which he understands only when at length 122 TESuUS. CHRIS he realizes, like the son in the far country of the parable, that in answering that voice, he has for the first time come to himself. Christ who stands outside us in the ever familiar personality of Jesus, appeals to us not by any outward authority alone, but by the awareness that in Him is revealed the possible glory of our Christed selves. There is no depth nor distance in the earth where men can hide from this challenge of the Christ spirit. The thing in them that is akin to it will draw it after them on an unerring track. ‘Fear wist not to evade As Love wist to pursue.” Yet it is true that, to many, Christ may seem at first not as a friend but as a pursuing presence which they would fain escape, knowing not yet His beauty and His healing. ‘There are thousands of men and women, even in the Christian churches, to whom the thought of Christ is a disturbing thing because they will not let Him woo them from the false satisfactions in which they try to rest. These are the men who secretly see their better natures fettered in the midst of their mer- cenary pursuits; women cursed with restlessness in the midst of a thousand luxuries because they feel the emptiness of their existence; young men and girls who may try to hide their innate idealism under the brazen acceptance of the selfish stand- 123 SOME (OPEN, “WAYS *T:0'°GOD ards of their world, yet who have their moments when in the presence of some noble and courageous thing they stand consciously cheapened and ashamed. For such lives the message of the Gos- pel is still urgent°and powerful. It speaks in the same old terms that never lose their vital reality, of the Christ who follows in spite of sin, indiffer- ence, and denial. “If we believe not, yet he abideth faithful: he cannot deny himself.” To the foolish heart, seeking its fulfilment in vain things, He comes with an offer of that joyous re- demption which is only found when the heart sur- renders all things to the touch of that transfiguring Friend. Men will not find Christ by blind obei- sance of their intellects to old formulas, no matter how stubbornly the teachers may insist upon that. Christ is not seeking servants who recognize formal authority and clothe themselves in a mere livery of His Name. Christ calls men to be His friends, and only to His friends can He reveal Himself convincingly. If any man would be His friend today, if, in spite of any creedal perplexi- ties whatever, he will yet look honestly into the face of the matchless Christhood of Jesus, he will feel that Christ in Him appealing to the Christ in his own soul, and will go out with such faith- fulness and courage as he may to live his life in that spirit of Jesus which is for ever plain to the conscience that will be guided by Him. ‘Then the 124 JESUS CHRIST roads of life shall not be uncompanioned, but on them will move the presence of the Lord Him- self. 2. We pass on to another cardinal Christian doctrine which must be turned into life. It is the doctrine of salvation through the atoning death of Christ. I do not intend now to attempt to enter into all its theological implications. It has far wider meanings than those which I shall even try to suggest, but this at least I am sure that it does mean: Jesus Christ lived and died not only to save men from the penalty of their sins, but from their sinning. And in order that He may save them and lead them back into the fellowship of the love of God, often He must help them pass through His own experience of the cross. There is a strange short drama by Charles Rann Kennedy which seems to me immensely moving. It is called “The Terrible Meek.” The whole scene of it is set in darkness, and out of the darkness come the voices of those who speak. The scene is the top of Calvary in that blackness which settled upon the world when Jesus died. A Roman soldier is there first, then comes the voice of the Centurion, then presently out of the darkness is the sound of weeping;—it is the mother of the one hung there above the ground. The soul of the Centurion has been wrestling with the awe and terror of the strange scene which he 125 SOME OPEN WAYS £0 °GOD has witnessed, and out of his inner turmoil a pas- sionate new conviction of scorn for the things which he had served, of dawning faith in things which he had only begun to dream, flames out in the words he speaks to Mary. ‘And so we go on building our kingdoms—the kingdoms of this world. We stretch out our hands, greedy, grasping, tyrannical, to possess the earth. Domination, power, glory, money, mer- chandise, luxury, these are the things we aim at; but what we really gain is pest and famine, grudge labor, the enslaved hate of men and women, ghosts, dead and death-breathing ghosts that haunt our lives forever. . . . We have lost both earth and ourselves in trying to possess it; for the soul of the earth is man and the love of him, and we have made of both a desolation. I tell you, woman, this dead son of yours, disfigured, shamed, spat upon, has built a kingdom this day that can never die. The living glory of him rules it. The earth is his and he made it. He and his brothers have been moulding and making it through the long ages: they are the only ones who ever really did possess it: not the proud, not the idle, not the wealthy, not the vaunting empires of the world. Something has happened up here on this hill today to shake all our kingdoms of blood and fear to the dust. The earth is His, the earth is theirs, and they made it. ‘The meek, the terrible meek, the fierce agonizing meck, are about to enter into their inheritance.” It is true that the earth is His, for He made it. 126 RES URS) A CueL Rilsih The meek, the terrible meek, the terrible self- sacrificing Christ, shall enter into His inheritance when those who bear His name are brave enough to claim it. Said St. Paul long ago when he faced the stub- born pride of the old conservatism of the Jews, and the cynical disbelief of the Greeks who imagined that there was no reality which their philosophy could not explain: ‘We preach Christ crucified, unto the Jews a stumbling block, and unto the Greeks foolishness, but unto those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the pow- er of God and the wisdom of God.” There is power in the gospel of Jesus to build the world anew. It has built anew the temples of individual souls. It can build, if it shall find the architects who are great enough to plan it, the temple of the soul of all the race. But in order for that to come true there must be the willingness on the part of Christian men and women to dare and to suffer, if need be, as Christ did, for great ideals which seem forlorn. Our social life cannot be fashioned into brotherhood, our economic and industrial system cannot be brought into some likeness to the Kingdom of God, our whole world cannot be delivered from the greed and passions which lead to war, until people, inspired by the spirit of Christ, are willing to espouse that which the derisive laughter of this 127 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD world calls visionary and in the service of an abiding faith to fill up by their own sacrifices “that which is lacking of the affliction of Christ.” For the great ideals do not enter into the world full- orbed and convincing. They come to the world through the venture of faith of those who are great enough of soul to believe and who, having believed, will seek against weary postponement and long delay to advance the cause of that un- wearying faith. In the vision of the Book of Revelation those who sat about the throne of the Lamb were those who had come out of great tribu- lation. It will not be strange if in the final reck- oning those who shall redeem the earth from many of the evils which curse it now, shall have brought that earth to God out of a tribulation which shall be very real in heart, and soul, and action. 3. Linked with the thought of the atoning death of Jesus, it is fitting that we should understand also the spiritual message of His resurrection. Already we have considered the fact of the resur- rection as it pertained to Jesus Himself and have reviewed the reasons why no fair accounting of the facts of history can escape the conclusion that He who was crucified and buried in the garden tomb did come back and manifest Himself alive to His disciples; but the significance of the resur- rection in the thought and life of Christendom 128 JESUS CHRIST widens out far beyond belief in the solitary fact of the rising again of Jesus. The Christian ex- perience has been guided by the light of those words of Jesus Himself, ‘Because I live, ye shall live also.”” His whole personality made the hu- man spirit seem essentially so great, and life rather than death so surely its normal expectation, that all spiritual consciousness has been lifted to a new dignity of faith in its own immortality. In the letters of William James there is a reply which he wrote to the questions of a correspondent who asked him about his own religious beliefs. Con- cerning personal immortality, he answered that he believed in it more strongly as he grew older, and this was the reason that he gave for that belief— “because I am just getting fit to live.” It was from the influence of Jesus Christ more than from any other cause in history that men have learned to think of life as so noble a matter that the uni- verse would be unintelligible if death of necessity destroyed it. There is an invincible impulse to believe that the human soul in its highest spiritual exercise is lifted to a level of existence on which physical death has no power to touch it. It is a fact to which all the centuries bear witness that the more fully men have tried to live like Jesus, and the more earnestly they have sought to lift their own spirits to that exalted plane on which His moved, the more surely they have felt this convic- 129 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD tion of immortality. With quiet inner confidence they have believed that they were “‘just getting fit to live’ and that death’s toll-gathering fingers should simply strip from them mortality and set the spirit free. Nor is the significance of the resurrection limited to that faith which it brings to men in a life that continues beyond the confines of this world. It has taught those, who turn to Jesus Christ for guidance, to live here ‘in the power of an endless life.’ It has taught men to strive and dare more gallantly because they can trust that all victory is on the side of those who live for God. They remember that through Gethsemane, and over the brow of the dark and tragic hill, Christ went His way to triumph. His victory is the eternal symbol of that which is unseen over the brutal weight of the near and obvious, the victory of the quietness of God over the tumult of the world’s rejection. Always the thought of Easter has enabled men to trust in the unarmed power of goodness. It makes them know that, in spite of any momentary appearance to the contrary, no pure act of goodness is ever lost. Let men stand in some measure of Christ’s likeness for truth and right, and the contribution which they make to the ennobling of their generation will have its Easter-day of vindication. For no impulse whatever that is conceived according to the grace 130 JESUS CHRIST of God, is Calvary the last word. The resurrec- tion of Jesus is, for all who look to Him, the im- mortal witness that the quiet power of goodness shall at last ascend its throne. 4. Finally, there is the faith in a mighty second coming of Jesus Christ. The New Testament formulations of that faith are confusing. We cannot tell how far the current apocalyptic expec- tation of the Jews may have colored the disciples’ minds and may have affected their report to us of the words of Jesus. But certainly this great faith has always been characteristic of Christian- ity,—that somehow and in some manner, the Christ spirit which stooped to what seemed its humiliation in the death of Jesus, should come back to the world in power and manifest authority. Now the thing which it seems to me we need to understand, is that this coming of the power of Jesus depends not so much upon Him as upon us. It is not a matter of the miraculous approach of an absent Christ for which we have nothing to do but to wait. It is a matter, rather, of recog- nizing that Christ is always present, wherever and whenever the faith of men will open the gates to let Him in. When the grace of God came among men in the human figure of Jesus of Nazareth, the hard-eyed men of His world saw in Him nothing important. ‘When Christ cometh, no man knoweth whence 131 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD He is,” they said, “howbeit we know this man whence He is.” Was He not the carpenter’s son? Had He not come out of despised Naza- reth? Was He not the friend of common people, who ate with publicans and sinners and obviously was no person of whom either the socially re- spectable or the ecclesiastically important people need take notice? The very suggestion that this man out of Galilee should be called the Messiah toward whom the hopes of Israel for centuries had pointed forward, seemed to them either in- sanity or blasphemy, or both. When Messiah should come, men would know Him by His great- ness, by the heavenly powers that gathered at His back, by the crown of dominion He should wear, by the sceptre of miraculous sovereignty which He should wield. To suggest that the carpenter might be the Messiah, this man sprung from the common people might be the King—what was this but to degrade into a travesty the long grandeur of the messianic hope? So they reasoned, and men of worldly wisdom said they reasoned well. On the brow of Jesus, meanwhile, there was a crown; but they could not see it. In His grasp there was a sceptre; but they saw the empty hand, or, at the last, the blood-prints of the nails. Like Pilate, they could not understand a kingdom that was not of this world. Before their eyes, in the L232 JESUS CHRIST majesty of His spiritual lordship, He went His way: but they did not and would not see. Yet nothing is clearer concerning Jesus than the fact of His own consciousness that in Him the glory of God’s presence had come into the midst of men. He did not seek for any outward pan- oply of royalty, for He did not need it. In John the Baptist, notwithstanding the fact that he died in a prison, He saw the Elijah of the new dis- pensation. In Himself, He beheld the true long- ing for the Messiah satisfied. To believe in Him, to understand His spirit and to share it, was to enter into the greatness of the Kingdom of God. Every age has in itself the possibility of becom- ing by its own creative choice the age of a tri- umphant new advent of Christ. The time is not a matter of arithmetical calculation. It is a mat- ter of spiritual preparation. We need not look wistfully to the future. We only need to deal grandly with today. Christ is forever coming again. He stands at the door and knocks. Our business is to let Him in, and the reason that so often we do not let Him in is because stubbornly, like the men of old, we are looking for some haughty presence which will minister to our own pride instead of looking for Him who comes again, as He came at the beginning, in the lowli- ness of the spirit that worldly wisdom mocks at 133 SOME. O PEIN W AS TO SGione and only eyes fresh to the value of God behold as the presence of the King. Is it not greatly possible that in this time of ours Christ may come to men’s intellectual com- prehension with a vividness such as few of the ages have known? ‘The promise of such a result lies in the urgent genuineness of our time’s desire. Men want today a Christ who will answer our present needs. ‘Chey want one who is close to our immediate apprehension and of whom they can think in such a way that their own problems and “necessities become interpreted through His light. They are not greatly interested in what Greek theologians said about Him fifteen hundred years ago. It is not that they deny the orthodox cor- rectness of those formulas, but simply that those formulas seem to them to have no easily under- stood meaning for present thought. They are not in the language of our experience. They do not touch us at the living points of our desire. They may bring a Christ who is flawless in their abstract definition; but they do not bring a Christ whom the twentieth century can understand; and it is this Christ that we must have. If this new coming of Christ be possible, why then is it held back? Is the reason not the same that it has always been, namely, that men are looking afar for some miracle on the horizon in- stead of beholding with marvelling eyes the mira- 134 Jive USC EPR USE cle of the new desire in their midst? Many would insist, by the stubborn error of their mistaken reverence, that Christ is not come and cannot come until He comes in the form in which they hold that it is alone proper that He appear. So the conservative theologians today refuse to recognize the force in that great hunger for Christ which would interpret faith in Him in simple terms which men can understand. They would clothe Him in the Kingliness of their inherited formularies, or else it shall not be allowed that He is here at all. They insist on interpreting His godhead in such a way as makes Him alien to our human experi- ence, setting Him apart from present existence by emphasis upon ancient miracles, declaring that no man can believe in Him except in the metaphysical terms of Greek philosophy, and so denying the simplicity with which He can come to the heart that is eager for the Spirit of Jesus now. The time has come when the Church must beware lest the creeds themselves should become a disguise to hide the coming of Christ. She must beware lest she teaches men to say, I cannot believe in Christ till in some tremendous way He has stormed my understanding. She must beware lest she make Christ seem remote when really He is near. Just as the kind of Messiah whom the Jews expected, one clothed in the majesty of cloud and lightning, seemed still far off when the Mes- 135 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD siah was actually in their midst, so the kind of Christ whom the traditional theologians have in- sisted on, Christ clothed in the cloudy metaphors of Nicene theology, must also seem far off from the faith of this different age of ours, when in fact the real Christ is knocking at our hearts. In one of his essays published during the war, Donald Hankey made plain how essentially Christian are the instincts in many men who have not the slight- est idea that it is possible that they should call themselves Christian. They have associated Christianity with the miraculous, the strange, the unintelligible, and they do not know that Chris- tianity is so simple a thing as the mastership of Jesus over their hearts, proving His Godhead through the living fact that He alone releases the God in men. If the Church could only remember this and teach it, then the Christ who was unrec- ognized once because men refused to recognize the simplicity of the spirit He came in, may be recognized now through the truer vision which perceives that the mightiness of His advent into human faith might be at hand. As there is a possibility of the larger coming of the spirit of Christ into our intellectual under- standing now, so there is the possibility of His larger coming into the realm of the re-adjustment of our practical concerns. There were men in Jerusalem, able men and 136 JESUS ICH RUST leading citizens, who lived at the time when the Carpenter of Nazareth came up to the great city which was the centre of Israel’s affairs. They be- lieved in religion too. They were sure that the Temple was the most important institution in the people’s life. ‘They had an alliance between the Temple and the business that gathered round its courts. They were determined at all hazards to maintain it. They recognized in a general way that there were a great many things in life that were wrong, and they were busily hopeful that some day, probably a long time off, the Messiah would come and set these things right in a way which everyone would approve; but meanwhile there was a disturbing person in their midst. He had claimed to be the Messiah. He dared say that this Gospel of the Kingdom of God, which broke down barriers and exalted common people, and proclaimed that peasants and fishermen and even the outcasts were of as much value in God’s eyes as the men who had made themselves rich and great, would bring in the new heavens and the new earth. They looked at Him with outraged indig- nation. How did He dare to set His judgment up against theirs? Who was He that His haughty self-importance should be regarded? What fi- nancial stake did He have in the country? He did not have any place to lay His head. What did He have to lose if this dissatisfaction that He 137 SOME "OPEN OUWAY'S (10 tGaorD was sowing among the people began to be serious? But they had everything to lose. So it was a man- ifest matter of good citizenship that this disturb- ing prophet of Nazareth should be crucified; and crucified He was. Christ stands today outside the shut gates of much of our economic system. He stands there in the great hunger of the unprivileged multitude for wholesomeness of life. He knocks in the vast demand of millions for a chance not to work and live like driven brutes, but in a manner that shall give some freedom to let the mind and soul ex- pand. He stands there in the modern demand for justice and for brotherhood and for the recogni- tion of the human value of the lowliest toiler as being more sovereign in a Christian democracy than the richest financial stake. When He enters in, there will be readjustment which will be hard for some to face, and that is why the gates are often barred against Him by frightened privileged hands. When He comes in, as come some day He shall, He will make for all of us a life of which we can be more glad than of the hard inequalities and the often unconscious cruelties in the midst of which now we live. He can make for us a life in which it will be possible for all men for the first time to live as Christians, because they will be living as brothers in a society conceived more 138 JESUS CHRIST nobly and more truly than now it is in terms of the common good. So comes again the question to us at it came to the conscience of Pilate, ‘‘What shall I do then with Jesus which is called Christ?” Mark the inexorable requirement of that word, “what then shall I do?” We may nail Him upon His cross; or we may take that cross of His on our shoulders and walk with Him upon His way. It is one or the other, for He will have’ no half-measures, and we cannot ignore Him nor make as though we did not know that He is in our midst. Wheth- er a man may know much or little of theology, when his conscience stands before the challenge of the life of Jesus Christ, he knows within himself that nothing less authoritative than God reaches out through Christ to claim him. And when he obeys, through Christ, that call of God, he makes the one effective recognition of the divineness of Jesus which Jesus Himself would be concerned to have. 139 CHAPTER IV THE INDWELLING SPIRIT In CHRISTIAN teaching as it is usually given and received, there is probably no subject which leaves the average person more vaguely perplexed than the subject of the Holy Ghost. It is relatively easy to think vividly of Jesus Christ. It is not so diff- cult also to have a fairly definite conception of God the Father as the power that created all men, and the love which reaches out through that redemp- tion which Jesus came to show. But how to fit in the thought of the Holy Ghost to the rest of our thinking is a matter that leaves many religious people nonplussed. The representations in art do not give much help. In the Boston Public Library, opposite the noble frieze of the prophets, Sargent has painted an appalling thing which is alleged to represent the Trinity. There are three remote and passion- less figures sitting side by side, all alike, and all joined with one interminable robe, and one of these is supposed to be the Holy Ghost. From that kind of symbol, as indeed from much crude preach- ing, in which the Holy Ghost is spoken of as though He were one among three Gods, the man or woman seeking light would gain as little as 140 dee LIND W EU LDN Gis RiP Re from a pagan idol. The symbol in the paintings of the older centuries is better. There the Holy Ghost is usually represented as a hovering dove. That has the value at least of suggesting the bene- diction of God brooding over the life of men. But how are we going to translate the symbol back | into theology? What or who is the Holy Ghost? If we look for definitions, we can find them; but they are not always helpful. For example, in the Articles of Religion as printed in the Book of Common Prayer we may turn to Article V, Of the Holy Ghost, and read as follows: “The Holy Ghost, proceeding from the Father and the Son, is of one substance, majesty, and glory, with the Father and the Son, very and eternal God.” All of which may be true to the utmost, but still it does not seem to get us anywhere. It only leads us round a circle of sonorous words and lands us back at our original problem of understanding just what the thought of the Holy Ghost has to do with our appropriation of the full richness of God for actual religion. The first thing which I think we need to do 1s to replace in our own minds that name “Holy Ghost”? with the better name “‘the Holy Spirit.” We shall find the old words remaining still, of course, in the formularies of the Church, where long usage brings the language of earlier cen- turies down into our own time even after it has 141 SOME OPEN WAYS) 1.0) Gio grown antique; but we can think in terms of the Holy Spirit even on occasions when we say the syllables, “the Holy Ghost,” for the word ‘“‘ghost”’ originally meant spirit, in all its living and breath- ing sense. It did not mean any disembodied shadow. It meant the very soul of life; and this is what religious experience has been trying to ex- press when it has spoken of the Holy Spirit. It has meant a reality which has come out from God, vital, quickening, and most immediately real. Moreover, we must remember that faith in the Holy Spirit did not begin with an abstraction. Men were not playing theoretically with the idea of God and devising ingenious elaborations, of which the Holy Spirit was one. On the contrary, all that was said about the Holy Spirit was a re- flection of what at first was very deeply felt. Back of theology lay the religious experience which theology was simply the effort to explain. There- fore, as we begin to think of the Holy Spirit, just as when we were thinking of the divinity of Jesus, we must begin by remembering what men experi- enced, and interpret what they tried to say always in relation to that original and predominant fact. I 1. If we turn to the New Testament, it is easy to see that, when men talked of the Holy Spirit, 142 Tere eh NCD EW Eis PNG S Bik ie k they were talking of something which had made a tremendous difference in the immediate matter of their daily living. They were conscious of a baptism from on high. ‘They knew that something had entered into them which enabled them to live differently from the way in which they had ever lived before, and they believed that this something was the personal inbreathing of the very life of God Himself. The music of this consciousness which set itself to the name of the Holy Spirit rings through the New Testament like a chime of bells. It throbs with mighty notes of power. It sings, a carolling of joy, that wakens the morning with the music of a golden hope, and floats like the evening angelus, full of serenity and quietude and peace. On that last night in the upper room, Jesus had promised the coming of the Holy Spirit. “T will pray the Father,” He had said, “‘and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever.”’ And He did come, this mighty Comforter, not only in the sense which we give now to that word, as one who brings con- solation, but in the stronger, earlier sense which the word conveyed of the Empowerer. On Pente- cost, the disciples felt the fulfilment of Jesus’ promise. There came upon them such an impulse from on high that they spoke the message of Jesus boldly, and with new courage and imagination set themselves to build up a fellowship in which men 143 SOME OPEN WAYS (TO GOD should show to one another the spirit of the love of Jesus. When new disciples came into the Christian company, it was expected that their new life should bring them a definite access of power and joy. Peter and John, coming down to Sa- maria, where there was a little company of dis- ciples, asked them, as the matter first to be ex- pected, whether they had received the Holy Ghost; and learning that they had not, the apostles laid their hands on them and prayed that the divine gift might then and there be given. To use the words which a Christian hero in later years made immortal, those first disciples dared ‘attempt great things for God,” and therefore they did not fear “‘to expect great things from God.” They trusted that, over and above their ordinary human efforts, there was a definite divine reality ready to enter into them, to make them be what they could never be alone. “The law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus,’’ said Paul, ‘hath made me free from the law of sin and death.” “Ye are not in the flesh, but in the Spirit, if so be that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you.” “For ye have not re- ceived the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father.” ‘The Spirit itself beareth wit- ness with our spirit, that we are the children of God.”’ He wrote to the Corinthians that he had come to them “in demonstration of the Spirit and 144 THE INDWELLING SPIRIT of power: that your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God.” “Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the spirit which is of God; that we might know the things that are freely given to us of God.” For “the fruit of the Spirit,’ he said, “is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith.” Such are the results men felt when they trusted in the Holy Spirit. They did not produce these re- sults themselves. They were produced in them from above. That was their practical theology. They had found God because He first found them. In the fulness of God’s nature, there must be a Holy Spirit because that new spirit which moved and breathed in them was nothing less than God. The throbbing fact of their threefold religious consciousness was summed up in that beautiful blessing of the Apostle, “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellow- ship of the Holy Ghost, be with you all ever- more.” 2. Thought of that way, the doctrine of the Holy Spirit is very evidently a thing of grace and beauty. It is only when men get tangled in theo- logical subtleties and are offered some arid form of words instead of the living fact that the signifi- cance of the Holy Spirit is robbed of its tremen- dous meaning.. Yet the theologians and the com- 145 SO MEO PEN OWA YS 2 DO VG oie mentators generally can do us service provided that we do not let them be our masters. What we can do is to look at their explanations for what they are worth, profit by such gleams of true sug- gestion as do break through their words, and cheerfully refuse to follow when all that they do is to invite us into a fog. We may well remem- ber also that, through the most bewildering theo- logical terms there is a genuine spiritual intuition which is trying to find the way to truth for us; and if we can strike hands with -that, it will lead us right,—just as a child can show us a path when, if he tried to tell us of it, and describe its turns this way and that, he would only leave our minds distracted. To take such a formidable description as this for example, which comes—like the words we quoted a while ago—from the Articles of Re- ligion in the Book of Common Prayer: “There is but one living and true God. ... And in unity of this Godhead there be three Persons, of one substance, power, and eternity; the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.’ That seems sheer contradiction, and taken as it stands in our modern language, some of it is. But when we press through the baffling words to the experience which the laboring teachers tried to communicate, we begin to get at something real. That word ‘‘per- son” did not originally mean three separate identi- ties, as we think of when we use the English word. 146 THE INDWELLING SPIRIT The old persona of the Latin from which our word “person” comes, was a term of the stage, and had reference to the different parts which one actor might play in the same drama. There were separate representations, but back of them was the same life. That is the symbolism which the early Christian theologians used, and which all their successors since have more or less conscious- ly been employing to express their conviction of the equal authority of the three ways in which God had been made known to them. They had looked into the face of Jesus Christ, and they had found God there. Through His eyes they had looked upon their world and trusted that, in spite of all its sorrow and its perplexity, nevertheless back of it is a love like the love of Jesus, which holds men’s destinies in His hands. And so they be- lieved in God the Father. And then they looked within themselves and were conscious that the same God whom they had seen in Jesus and trusted in the heavens entered with His actual presence into them. ‘That is the heart of Christian theology. It believes in the richness and yet in the oneness of God. It trusts that the universe is not made up of a multitude of jarring forces, with devils and demons and all sorts of ultimate contradic- tions, but that there is one reconciling principle running through it all, and that Christ who is be- fore us, and God who is above us, and that urgent 147 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD Spirit which is within us, are all one God. For those who love God all things, whether of the inner life or of the outer world, may be trusted to work together for good. That facile and brilliant writer, H. G. Wells, whose books have probably been read by as many people as the books of any other living man, turned some years ago from his novels to produce his “God the Invisible King’; and in it there is a passage which might well stand as a description of that experience which Christian thought has always associated with the Holy Spirit: “Then suddenly, in a little while, in his own time, God comes. This cardinal experience is an undoubting, immediate sense of God. It is the attainment of an absolute certainty that one is not alone in oneself. It is as if one was touched at every point by a being akin to oneself, sympa- thetic, beyond measure wiser, steadfast and pure inna ithe wa “The moment may come while we are alone in the darkness, under the stars, or while we walk by ourselves or in a crowd, or while we sit and muse. It may come upon the sinking ship or in the tumult of the battle. There is no saying when it may not come tous. ... But after it has come our lives are changed, God is with us and there is no more doubt of God. Thereafter one goes about the world like one who was lonely and has found a lover, like one who was perplexed and 148 THE INDWELLING SPIRIT has found a solution. One is assured that there is a Power that fights with us against the confu- sion and evil within us and without.” But H. G. Wells would not admit that this description has any direct relation to the Christian faith in the Holy Spirit. He would discard the terms of Christian theology altogether. He has no patience with that historic conception of God as the triune life of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. “An issue upon which this book will be found particularly uncompromising,” he says in his pre- face, ‘‘ is the dogma of the Trinity.” It is “an incoherent accumulation of antique theological no- tions.’ So Mr. Wells proceeds to fashion his own idea of God which he thinks will be more cohe- rent. ‘Modern religion,’ he says, “appeals to no revelation, no authoritative teaching, no mys- tery.’ He cannot blink the fact that there is mystery in our universe; but he would put it out of his religion. ‘At the back of all known things there is an impenetrable curtain; the ultimate of existence is a Veiled Being, which seems to know nothing of life or death or good or ill. The new religion . . . does not even assert that God knows all or much more than we do about that ultimate Being.” God is finite. He is the spirit of the higher life in man. He is a limited in- fluence pressing for expression through humanity, in a universe which He did not create and which 149 SOME OPEN) WAYS) DOGG we cannot be sure that He explains. That is God, and that is all the God there is. Now Mr. Wells is no authoritative theologian, but he is a highly skilful interpreter of the popular mind. Miultitudes of people are impatient—yjust as he represents himself to be—with the complex- ities of theology which disguise the reality of re- ligion. They are captivated by the idea of getting rid of complexities. But the trouble is that in get- ting rid of the complexities, they forget the like- lihood that they may unwittingly get rid of a large part of the religion too. It is worth our while to dwell on this danger of a too glib attempt to produce a simplified re- ligion, stripped of mystery. Against its thin re- sult, the full meaning of a right conception of the Holy Spirit appears in rich relief. ‘The Chris- tian belief in the Holy Spirit embraces all those positive values which Mr. Wells—and those for whom he speaks—ascribe to God. The Holy Spirit is “the immortal part and leader of man- kind.” He is the divine urge within our human hearts; and therefore He is God. But He is not all there is of God. Here enters in the august worth of that con- ception of the Triune God which the instinct of historic Christianity has clung to in spite of the struggling inability of theologians to explain it. The unconquerable hunger of mind and heart for I50 THE INDWELLING SPIRIT religion cannot be answered by a debonair method which disposes of our ultimate questionings through the convenient device of saying that God has nothing to do with them. In the long run, the religious hunger will press on to find a God who not only interprets the aspirations of the soul within us, but who also can give us through Him- self the sense of a right and sure relationship to the wholeness of this universe with which we have to do. It is to such a God that Christian faith leads us. The Holy Spirit within us is God come down to the limits of our present experience; but beyond the Holy Spirit is the mightier Fulness of God whose sufficiency we can trust for those mysteries which now we cannot understand. In the richness of such a thought of God, cer- tain values which are often torn apart and mutil- ated by impatient thinkers, find their wide inclu- sion. So it is with what the theologians have called the transcendence and the immanence of God. Each of these represents something which the permanent hunger of the human heart would find in God; and either, without the other, leaves one great element of religious need unsatisfied. A God who is conceived of as transcendent in the sense of some distant Absolute, an awful power ruling from a far-off throne, the “Allah” of the Mohammedan, whose will is to be bowed to and ISI SOME OREN WAY SY LO (6 @up obeyed, or the Jehovah of the earlier Old Testa- ment conception, who “‘sitteth upon the circle of the earth, and the inhabitants thereof are as grass- hoppers,” brings no intimate joy to the worship- ping soul. Somehow He must draw near, and become immanent in the daily strivings of men, if the ineradicable religious longing for a divine companionship is to be satisfied. Yet, on the other hand, if God is thought of as immanent only, re- ligion may degenerate into the welter of panthe- ism where all discriminations of higher and lower are lost, and worship becomes the mere sponge- like acceptance of whatever the shifting currents of the time happen to bring into the consciousness. Over and above the instincts colored and fed by the world as it is, over and above the wash of vague religious sentiment, must rise the challenge and correction of some transcendent thought of the greatness and glory of God. All this the Christian conception of God remembers and ex- presses. Jesus taught His disciples to believe in and to expect the Spirit which should come to them as the indwelling God. But He also believed in One, from whom that Spirit comes out, who is “Lord of heaven and earth,” who not only sends to men the inspiration for their daily striving but who can and does so control the mysteries of life and death and the final forces of our universe that men can commend their spirits into His hands and 152 PEE oOUN DWE LENG: SBR oe know that through Him their striving is not in vain. That faith does not lend itself to compla- cent definition, finished—_as Mr. Wells would fin- ish his “new religion’’—all with sharp edges like a pattern cut with scissors from a piece of paper. But it is like a sign-post pointing to a road, of itself no explanation but only an invitation to that road; and on the road are far vistas where the understanding walks in twilight, and long perspec- tives melting into mystery over the hills; but along the road are the fruits of an increasing confidence to feed those who walk. that way, and from the end of it shines the truth that leads to life. Furthermore, the Christian thought of the Tri- une God helps to link into one unity of Christian experience two other conceptions which otherwise might be antagonistic. A contrast has been drawn in some of our contemporary philosophy and re- ligion between God Being, and God Becoming. Bergson in his “Creative Evolution” wrote: “Things and states are only views, taken by our mind, of becoming. ‘There are no things, there are only actions. “God... has nothing of the already made: He is unceasing life, action, free- dom.” According to this conception, God Him- self, like the world, is forever in the making. ‘The spiritual experience of men from day to day as they try to follow their noblest instincts is creat- ing the divine reality which we call God. And in 153 SOM E* OP EINGW iA YS 0b Ol Gone this conception of an unfinished reality, in the realm even of the highest, there is thrilling sug- gestion of the significance which human living may possess; for it would seem to mean that the very glory of God Himself is not yet complete, but waits for our codperation to be achieved. Yet, on the other hand, in “The Meaning of God in Human Experience,” W. E. Hocking has written, “Unlimited codperation with God in world-making we have: not however in ultimate God-making. The religious object offers that Identity without which creative freedom itself would lack, for us, all meaning. ... If we are offered a man-made God and a self-answering prayer, we will rather have no God and no prayer. There can be no valid worship except that in which man is involuntarily bent by the presence of the Most Real, beyond his will.” “The presence of the Most Real, beyond his will.” Certainly it is true that without the sense of that, the substance vanishes from religion. Men need a reality external to themselves and to their devisings, in which to trust. Travellers to India tell of Hindu wonder-workers who can appear to those who watch them to throw a rope- ladder into the air, and then to climb up that rope suspended there in emptiness; but religious faith can ultimately climb the ladder of its aspiration only as that ladder rests upon the solid fact of 154 TEER GNDWELLING SPER DT an existing God. Back of the consciousness of divine becomings, there must be the assuring sense of a God whose Being already gives support to what we hope and will to do. Is it not plain that these two values meet in the full-orbed Christian consciousness of God? In the Holy Spirit, there is an aspect of God in which He is still becoming—a divine experience growing, en- larging, entering into and interpreting the new and orginal material of expanding life. Yet that toward which the divine-in-man is growing is no chance goal blindly fumbled for in the dark. God who already is, God to whom the Spirit “maketh intercession for us,” is that Ideal already living by which all the becomings of the God-in-man are guided and inspired. Our human strivings after righteousness can look up to a righteousness which is an eternal fact; our answering affections can turn to a love which was and is the flame that kindles ours; and the Spirit “which proceedeth from the Father” teaches the Father’s children that what He would become in them is what in His own being He already is. II In this consciousness, therefore, let us press on to consider the practical effects which faith in the Holy Spirit ought to bring. By that faith men 155 9 ODE YO PE NW ASY'S On Gers and women today can believe that through their mind and heart and will the reality of God Him- self presses through to that new expression of Himself in life to which they open the way for Him. | 1. In the first place, then, the Holy Spirit is to be the Spirit of goodness. I use that word in a wide sense. It is the Spirit which helps us satisfy that instinct of excellence which all normal human beings feel if they do not deliberately kill it. It is the Spirit which helps us to aim higher, to try harder, and to measure up more steadily to the best we know. That means, to begin with, a new heart in the common work. A great deal of life is made up of drudgery. There are tasks which have got to be done simply because necessity requires them. Some of the things we do are dull enough, and in themselves monotonous and wearisome. If a man’s own thought of his work is isolated through lack of religion, then the narrow routine of it may become intolerable. It is as hateful to his spirit as the constant sound of one unvarying note of music would become hateful to the ear. Only when the one note is put together with other notes does it make the symphony, glorious in its inspiration; and only when the one thing which a man may do is linked by a larger imagination with the wide purposes of God in His world does 156 THE INDWELLING SPIRIT his spirit move out through the small task into the ennobling consciousness of the larger whole. That is no idle sentiment. It is vital fact. The quaint old chronicle of Brother Lawrence can have its representations in all times. He was a cook in the monastery kitchen, but that did not keep him from having the singing heart of religious glad- ness. He said he felt God as near to him when he was peeling potatoes there in the kitchen as he did when he was on his knees before the altar, and the reason doubtless was, that, because he ennobled his work by doing it so thoroughly and well that it might be honorable in God's eyes, his work ennobled him. In the Book of Exodus there is an account of the building of the tabernacle, and it is told there how God spoke to Moses about a man named Bezaleel, and this is what He said, “I have filled him with the spirit of God, in wisdom, and in understand- ing, and in knowledge, and in all manner of work- manship, to devise cunning works, to work in gold, and in silver, and in brass.” In other words, here was a man who was serving God by the skill of his hands. In the delicate ingenuity of his craftsman- ship, in his ability to take dead timber and metal and make them live and grow in beauty, God's spirit was at work to make His world a more seemly place. Another fine example of the conse- cration of a man’s ability in practical things ap- 157 5.0 MEY O'R ENWiWiALY S (1.O 1G aap pears in Joseph, to whom Pharaoh paid the in- stinctive tribute of his question,—“‘Can we find such an one as this, a man in whom the Spirit of God is?” In the case of Joseph, the Spirit of God was to show itself, not in organizing worship and in interpreting the moral law like Moses, not even in the building of a tabernacle like Bezaleel. It was to show itself in practical business Sagacity and a knowledge of organization which was to conserve the food resources of a nation with com- mon sense in the time of plenty, so that in the time of need which was coming, there would be enough for all. St. Paul wrote to the early Christian dis- ciples that they should be fervent in spirit, and with that he linked the requirement that they should not be slothful in business. He warned the Christians in Thessalonica that it was no way to show their joy in what they thought was the near coming of Jesus by neglecting their daily task. They were to go to work in the name of God. “Study to be quiet, and to do your own business, and to work with your own hands, as we com- manded you: that ye may walk honestly toward them that are without, and that ye may have lack of nothing.” And he added, “Be not weary in well doing.” It was no accident that, in a letter to these same Christians, he said to them, ‘Quench not the Spirit.’ One of the things that they need- 158 PEE SEN DWE LULN Ges Pip Ril ed the unquenched Spirit for was the grace to be glad and faithful in the work of every day. Not long ago I was preparing a group of boys for Confirmation, and I had wanted to make them understand that the main business before them was not learning a certain amount of instruction from the Bible and Prayer Book, but fastening in their minds and hearts the consciousness that they were about to devote themselves afresh to Jesus Christ, and that, because of that, they must be dif- ferent from what they would have been without Him. I said to them, ‘“‘What is it going to mean to you next week that you should have the Chris- tian Spirit?” One boy answered, ‘It means that if you strike a hard place in arithmetic you won't give it up, but will try to do it right.” One might go far to find a sturdier and truer answer. The coming of the Spirit of God through Jesus Christ will certainly not mean much in the end unless it means exactly that in its plain and straight be- ginning, namely, the will to grapple with the every-day duty in a new sense of responsibility to the inner voice of God. There is a fine expression of this thought of God as the inspiration for the common task in the letters of Edward Thring, Headmaster of Uppingham School, and one of the pre-eminent figures in the educational life of England in the nineteenth century. He wrote: 159 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD ‘Now I unhesitatingly assert that my own work has succeeded with the many just because God gave me a spirit of wisdom to attend to fringes, and blue, and purple, and scarlet ribands, and Pompeian red, and autotypes, and boys’ studies, and the color of curtains to their compartments, and a number of little things of this kind. And I lay claim to have been great as a schoolmaster on this, and on this only, in the main: on having had the sense to work with tools, to follow God’s guidance in teaching beginners by surrounding them, as He did, with noble and worthy sur- roundings, taking care that there was no mean- ness or neglect; getting rid, as circumstances al- lowed, of name-cutting in school, which means ‘rebellious inattention, combined with mischief and vanity,’ or ink-splashing, which means ‘careless dirtiness, and contempt for the great thought- work’; and all the little vilenesses which drag the boy-mind down. It is a slow process, but it is a true one; it is not grand, but it is practical: it needs patience, but it works by degrees hiaher life. May men think of me as one to whom God gave a spirit of wisdom to work all manner of work of the engraver, and of the cunning workman, and of the embroiderer, in blue, and in purple, and in scarlet, and in fine linen, and of the weaver, even of them that do any work, and of those that de- vise cunning work. I take my stand on detail.” And again he wrote: “How strange life is! How little one knows what is best! Life is best, the living the day man- 160 THE INDWELLING SPIRIT fully, truly, and humbly. Not what we plan, but how we live. Not what we aim at doing, but how we do what we have to do—that is God’s life.” Yet the doing of our own individual tasks, of course, is not all there is to life. Each man must bear his own burden; but it is also true that, when each has borne the burden that is his, he must help to bear the burden of some other soul which staggers under its own. For that sort of unselfish burden-bearing, a man needs God. Raw human nature carries with it much of its primal heritage of unwitting cruelty—a cruelty which seeks its own advantage and lets the bruised and wounded thing at its side shift as best it may. Something more than ordinary instinct is needed to lift men above that callous self-concern of the human herd. Men will jostle and trample one another, partly in fear lest they themselves be trampled; until a higher goodness has lifted them to a stature in the strength of which they cease to be afraid. It is only the souls which have grown tall by the grace of God that see life from those levels of compassion which make them want to stoop to those in need. Not very long ago in a great city, a prominent and wealthy man was stricken suddenly and died in a public place. None of his friends were with him, but a stranger who happened to be next him helped him all he could. That night those who 161 SOME O PEIN IW AY S326 © 3Giorp were closest to the man who had died determined to try to find the stranger who had been good to the one they loved. In some manner they discov- ered his name and where he lived. It was an hour of tragic and overwhelming sorrow, but one espe- cially in that shadowed house was not thinking of herself. Out of the agony of grief, her heart went out to carry its self-forgetting gratitude. She sent a friend, the lawyer of her husband who had died, to seek the strange man who had been with him. Out beyond the city his directions led him, till he came to a lonely section with a few desolate houses here and there. He knocked at the door of the one which bore the number he was looking for. A woman opened the door and looked out in a frightened and startled way. The visitor asked her 1f the man of such and such a name was there. “No,” she said, “no, you cannot find him here.” “Oh,” he said, “I am very sorry, for he was kind to a friend of mine today, and I had come to thank him.” The woman’s face changed. ‘Come in,” she said. | Then she called upstairs, and the man who was sought came down. He looked troubled and em- barrassed. “You will have to forgive us,’’ he said, ‘for what my wife said at the door. The truth is that we are about to be turned out of the house by the foreclosure of a mortgage. I have 162 fella PNeDIWiE I GDN GA SiR been downtown all day, trying to get an extension of time, and I could not get it. When we heard you knock, we thought you were a process-server coming to turn us out.” His visitor explained the reason why he had come. « “You were so good,” he said, ‘‘to the man we loved that I have come tonight to thank you.” Then suddenly he said, “Have you a lawyer?” “No,” said the man, “I would not have any money to pay a lawyer.” “Well,” said his visitor, “vou have a lawyer now; and if you will come to my office tomorrow, I will see that your mortgage is paid in the name of the man you helped today.” Who was it who knocked that night at the for- lorn door? Was it only a human visitor, or was it a diviner grace of God? Was it only a hand of man, or was it a greater Hand that had been scarred? Who was it sent that messenger on that errand which ended in a chance for helpful- ness so dramatic, yet so unforeseen? Was it only a human impulse, or was it the obedience of a heart which had become that day the instrument of the goodness of God? We see the hard texture of our world’s affairs, and we do not always see the lovelier things. We cannot count, because we do not know, the name- less acts of unremembered love. In many an ob- scure place where the Holy Spirit moves, there is the fragrance of holy deeds as sweet as the 163 SOME OPEN. WAYS LO (Gop ointment in the alabaster box. ‘He shall receive of mine and shall show it unto you,” said Jesus of the Holy Spirit. And it is through the moving of that Holy Spirit in the hearts of men that the grace of Christ does come back to His earth. ‘‘Loud mockers in the roaring street Say Christ is crucified again: Twice pierced His gospel-bearing feet Twice broken His great heart in vain. “I hear, and to myself I smile, For Christ talks with me all the while. “Poor Lazarus shall wait in Vain, And Bartimaeus shall go blind; The healing hem shall ne’er again Be touched by suffering humankind. “Yet all the while I see them rest, The poor and outcast, in His breast.” We have thought of the things which the Spirit of goodness helps us to do—the work that we must do each man for himself, and the service that we may do each one for others. Yet there is some- thing else also for which the Spirit of goodness comes. He helps us not only to do but to bear. In the last and most beautiful chapter of his little book entitled ‘Personal Religion and the Life of Devotion,” Dean Inge has written of be- 164 Ah aN Ww By PNG Seek reavement. Therein he says, “A generation which wishes for a religion without tears must find it difficult to adjust its beliefs to the teaching of the New Testament and to the facts of life.” And then Dean Inge goes on to say: “T think that those who have had to bear this sorrow will agree with me that bereavement is the deepest initiation into the mysteries of human life, an initiation more searching and profound than even happy love. Love remembered and conse- - crated by grief belongs, more clearly than the happy intercourse of friends, to the eternal world; it has proved itself stronger than death. Bereave- ment is the sharpest challenge to our trust in God; if faith can overcome this, there is no mountain which it cannot remove. And faith can overcome it. It brings the eternal world nearer to us, and makes it seem more real. It is not that we look forward to anything remotely resembling Eze- kiel’s vision of the valley of dry bones. Still less could we find any comfort from the pathetic illu- sions of modern necromancy. These fancies have nothing to do with our hope of immortality, which would be in no way strengthened by such support. Rather does pure affection, so remembered and so consecrated, carry us beyond the bourne of time and place altogether. It transports us into a purer air, where all that has been, is, and will be lives together, in its true being, meaning and value before the throne of God.” Thus in the Christian experience, the Holy Spirit, divine messenger of a goodness which God, 165 SOME O PEN Ww WiA Ysa Orsi sometimes through the furnace of His refining, would create, can turn calamity into gain. In His presence, as a Christian saint has said, disappoint- ment becomes His-appointment. Out of sorrow may come the-more valiant spirit, out of duress and difficulty the more divinely disciplined soul. By no human ingenuity, but by the grace of God, working sometimes in strange and shadowed ways, the spirits of men find evil turned to good because of the goodness which is fashioned through it in them. ‘They are more strong to do because they have endured, more ready to bear because they have been overborne. As George Matheson has truly written: ‘All inward widening is produced by outward narrowing. How shall I pass from the life of the egotist to the life of the humanitarian? Only through my own strait gate. The wing by which I fly to your trouble is the wing which is wounded; the hand by which I help you is the hand which is maimed. In vain shall I enter your desert till I have tasted the waters of Marah. Not by fear- less running shall I overtake and lift your burden, but by halting on my own thigh. The education in sympathy is the experience of personal bruises; of every true comforter we can say, ‘By his stripes we are healed.’ ” 2. In the second place, the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of truth. It was by that name that Jesus 166 THE INDWELLING SPIRIT called Him. ‘When he, the Spirit of truth, 1s come, he will guide you into all truth.” The first conclusion which needs to be drawn from those words of Jesus is that the Spirit of truth is likely to lead on unexpected ways. That is exactly what had happened in His own life. The Pharisees and Scribes had builded a fence of definitions in which their minds complacently dwelt. They had made God’s reality synonymous with their own traditions. Anyone who went out- side the wall of their permissive thinking was to them a heretic and a traitor to the citadel of an- cient faith; but Jesus did go out on the bold, free paths of His conquest for the larger Kingdom of God. He went out to the common folk, of whom the Pharisees said, “This multitude that knoweth not the law are accursed.” He went out to the sinners and to the socially disreputable. He went to carry the spirit of religion into wide human con- tacts which shocked the Pharisees’ ideas of ecclesi- astical convention. He left their hampering code of ritual and artificial piety behind Him, and He taught that the truth of God’s meaning for human lives is a far simpler and more flexible thing than the iron-bound catechisms of thought and action into which the ecclesiastics of His time had tried to shut it. When, therefore, Jesus said that the Spirit of truth would lead men into all truth, when He said 167 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD further that the Spirit “shall take of mine and shew it unto you,’ He meant that the Spirit of truth, working in the lives of His disciples, would lead men forth into unpredictable adventures in religious thinking and religious practice. His dis- ciples should need to be open-minded to follow the ways of that Spirit out beyond the walls of old precedent in newness of imagination. The thing which made Paul the most flaming influence among the early disciples was that his swift instinct understood this meaning of his Master. In his day, the mental attitude of the men who formed the early Christian Church had not changed much from that of Judaism itself. They clung to the teaching of the law and the regulations of the Scribes. ‘They still identified religion with the old pious conventions and with all sorts of trivial re- quirements which were made authoritative simply because people assumed that they always had been so. Their minds were shocked at the idea that Gentiles should be admitted to the Christian Church—that is to say, that anyone should be ad- mitted who did not speak the ecclesiastical lan- guage, conform to all the ancient definitions, and generally act in exactly the same fashion in which they had always supposed that proper religious people would act. When Paul started forth on his mission to the Gentiles, when he said in effect that a great deal with which the Church was concerned 168 THE EN DWELELIN GOS PURET had no vital relation to religion at all, and that the business of an Apostle was not to make people bow down before the idol of a supposed ortho- doxy, which had been made up in part out of a knowledge of God, and in a greater part out of the stubborn accumulation of human habit and prejudice, but to bid them rise up as sons of God who found their new freedom in the living com- pulsion of Christ—when Paul did that, in spite of the dismay of timid Christians, he led Christianity forth into its wide possibilities of intellectual and spiritual conquest. The same thing was true at the time of the Re- formation. Men arose whom the established hierarchies called heretics and rebels against au- thority. When they protested against most obvi- ous iniquities of the Church, their superiors at- tempted to silence them; and when, made bold by necessity, they went forward to proclaim forgotten spiritual truths—to assert the priesthood of all be- lievers, the right of access for every soul to the Scriptures, and that most courageous doctrine of all for those times, that a man should be justified, not by any works of his own, nor by any mechanical merits of the Church, but through the immediate relationship into which Christ had entered with his own soul—still the established forces of the Church fought as bitterly as they could against them. Those things which we receive from .the 169 2 OM EO PRN IW.VACY'S lO 1G aa Reformation today as our most unquestioned heri- tage, those great conceptions of the liberty of the spirit, came to us through the courage of those who dared to be called heretics in their day, in order that they- might be vindicated as the pro- phets of a nobler orthodoxy for tomorrow. Always the peril of religious loyalty has been that it fails to keep the open mind. Standing guard over the things which have been, it may fail to understand or welcome those things which God means to bring to be; and so the Church has often bitterly resisted that which afterwards it was forced to recognize as true. The Inquisition con- demned Galileo and declared his teaching blas- phemous when he asserted that the earth was not the centre of the universe. Theological teachers without number set up an antithesis between the teaching of evolution and the teachings of Chris- tianity, even as a remnant do today, and by the dilemma which they were determined to maintain, drove out of the Church many people who would not sacrifice their intellectual conscience, and who yet were told that, if they followed it, they should have no place in the Christian fellowship. The so- called fundamentalists in some Christian com- munions continue to denounce all “higher criti- cism’”’ of the Bible, and insist that the Old and New Testaments must be accepted throughout as the infallible and inerrant Word of God, lest the 170 THE INDWELLING SPIRIT whole fabric of faith disintegrate; and tradition- alists in such a body as the Episcopal Church set up the same rigidity of dogma as do their funda- mentalist brothers, the only difference being that they take the literal clauses of the Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds and by fixity of interpretation make these into the confining walls for thought which the fundamentalist rather more logically builds out of his doctrine of the infallible scriptures. Meanwhile, if either group had its way the thought of the Church would be effectively cor- ralled within the fences which the orthodox of the particular period deem to be “safe.” _ But in the face of the long, and sometimes the humiliating lessons of the centuries, those who are the leaders of the Church should learn the spirit of humility and of that reverent open-mind- edness which is quick to apprehend the possibility of a truth beyond that which they have already known. ‘Truth itself is so great and vital, and the changes in men’s apprehension are so swift, that, though none should be disloyal to their own convictions, none can afford to be dogmatic against what some searcher of the future may cry from his hill-top that he sees beyond. As Bishop Law- rence reminds us in his Fifty Years, the famous volume of Essays and Reviews, published in England in 1861, brought to the Church of that generation the message of the modern historical 171 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD study of the Bible, and so outraged was the Bishop of Oxford, at that time the most eloquent leader of the Church of England, that he solemnly de- manded that all the essayists be compelled to withdraw from the Ministry. Yet the essential message of Essays and Reviews, so startling and unexpected then, has become the commonplace of reverent scholarship today, and Frederick Temple, who wrote the first of them, and whose deposition the Bishop of Oxford demanded, lived himself to become the Archbishop of Canterbury, and head thus of the Established Church. To those who, in the face of all the lessons of the past, stand still in the stubbornness which imagines every opinion to be the very ark of God, the words which Oliver Cromwell once spoke to the Kirk have not lost their meaning: “I beseech you by the mercies of Christ that you imagine it possible that you may be mistaken!” The reason why many earnest folk within the Church are always frightened at suggested changes in men’s conception of the truth, or at any recasting of the old phrases in which that truth has been familiarly expressed, is because they have a shrunken conception of what truth is. They treat it nervously as though it were an invalid. They would shut it up inside the room of their pious solicitude, where no draughts from any win- dow open to the wide world’s questionings might 172 hk eI NDWELLING SPOR TT blow upon it, lest it catch a spiritual chill and die. They enfeeble their own belief by this exaggerated nervousness to such an extent that that which passes for truth in their own consciousness does become an anemic, tottering thing. But they need to listen to the stalwart words of old John Milton: “IT cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and seeks her adversary, but slinks out of the race where the immortal garland is to be run for, not without dust and heat.” The real Spirit of truth is not served by those who would make it clois- tered and fugitive. On the contrary, it must go out open-eyed ready for encounter; and they who follow truth will behold it thus marching on to seize more spacious fields of life, in its ever more nobly interpreted consciousness of God. Furthermore, as the Spirit of truth requires open-mindedness, so also it requires ready-witted adaptation of our energies to meet new situa- tions as they arise. The trouble with the would-be defenders of the faith usually is that they defend the wrong posi- tion. They fight desperately in some quarter of the battle-field which has long ceased to be strate- gic. With a tremendous show of flags and argu- mentative array of guns, they hold the trenches in some sector from which the main attack has completely shifted. 173 SOME OPEN WAYS TO "Gow Jesus said that the children of this generation are wiser than the children of light, and it is cer- tainly true that men in their practical necessities very often show more common-sense than they do in their religion. If the French General Staff had been as hopelessly unimaginative in their way of waging war as many religious leaders are in their way of waging theirs, the German army would have crushed France at its pleasure. To multi- tudes of people who read each morning the war bulletins with a breathless tension of anxiety through those days of August and early Septem- ber in 1914, it seemed clear that the effective de- fence of France must rest upon certain great bor- der fortresses. These were supposed to be the bul- warks of her resistance. If they failed, her cause might be hopelessly imperilled. But before the actual necessities of the hour, the French leaders were following a different conception. Past one by one of the fortresses of the North, past Mau- berge and Lille, and other points hitherto consid- ered vital to the defence of Paris, the French army was withdrawn. If any considerable part of the army had been held within the forts which the unprecedented German artillery had proved its power to smash in pieces, the strength of France would have been divided and consumed little by little until defeat was sure. Instead, the army had to take the open field. It had to learn 174 eee ND Web TyTN Gol Sa kb E an elastic adaptation to considerations of warfare unheard of in old traditions. It had to learn to dig its trenches where the exigencies of the day demanded and to concentrate its power where the changing shock of battle moved. And even past Paris it was ready to withdraw, should defence of the capital itself seem impracticable. Writes John Buchan in his History of the Great War, ‘With incomparable courage and patience, and with the mental elasticity of his race, Joffre faced the crisis, jettisoned his cherished preconceptions, and pre- pared a new plan on the new facts now at last made plain. When he was ordered to detach three army-corps for the defence of Paris, he acquiesced but reserved his opinion. He... was resolved to resist most stoutly the lure of fortified places and keep his army together as a force of man- oeuvre.” Because her leaders did thus in the beginning, and through the years of struggle, use the armies with alert imagination, France was at last victorious. But those who take up the defence of Christian belief in the field of religious discussion are usual- ly not as wise as that. They insist upon believing that the old positions are forever vital. They argue vehemently for the exact phraseology and the traditional interpretation of the historic creeds. They insist that the whole citadel of Christian faith is abandoned if those particular 175 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD arguments concerning miracles or the infallibility of the New Testament, or the authority of the Church, which were the key-points in yesterday’s discussion, should for a moment cease to be main- tained. But thé real matter at issue involves a far more deadly and immediate peril. What would it avail if a little group of devoted and immovable Christian scribes should hold to their immovable ideas, and even make for these theo- retically a highly successful defence, if meanwhile the real tide of battle had rolled round the flanks of these border positions and struck deep into a far more vital region upon which all their com- munications depend? The attack upon Christian faith which the scepticism of our time is making does not sit down to lay siege to particular doc. trines concerning this or that miracle. It assails the basic conceptions of God, and of Spirit in the universe. What the forces of Christian intelli- gence and devotion must do is to meet the shock of denial on that ground where actually it comes. They must stop wasting their time and dividing their strength in matters which for the moment are wholly secondary; but first must prove to the mind of this age, with its rebellious disregard of traditional arguments, the reality of God in this present world and the actual presence and necessity of Christ in the affairs of men. Not long ago a mother came to me to tell me 176 TELE STUN DWELLING SEER EL of her problem in the attitude of her son just grown to manhood. He had flung down his chal- lenge quite frankly and defiantly in the face of the most elemental conceptions of morality and re- ligion. He waved his mother’s scruples aside with the complete assent of the other members of his college group. Her ideas of morality, he said, were nothing but Puritan inhibitions. He pro- posed to live his own life in his own way. He could not sincerely believe that she really liked to go to Church. She had too much intelligence, he said, to pretend in these times to believe in God. Can that sort of challenge to religion be met by quoting proof texts in support, for ex- ample, of the miraculous birth of Christ? Can it be met by insisting that the Greek philosophy of the early Church fathers was invariably right, and that somehow the precise phraseology of the Ni- cene Creed is a cure for all spiritual difficulties? Ecclesiastics may come together, far removed from the actual impact of the mind of this gen- eration, and with much solemn nodding of the heads and indignant adjuring of one another against altering the methods of yesterday, send out their staff commands to stake the power of Chris- tian faith upon the holding of the old position; but men who feel the immediate nature of the actual task, and feel their minds and sprits kindle 177 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD with the challenge of an effective warfare, know that Christianity must first of all concentrate its forces to answer and persuade the modern denial of religion at those points where it is visibly in the field. It will take the full force of a united Church, illumined by the wisdom of the Holy Spirit, to do that. It will take the power of a glowing Chris- tianity, undistracted by divisions among its own teachers, to make plain first of all that life needs God, and that there are ways for men manifestly to find God, and that, without the grace of God which Christ incarnated, our world will go to chaos and confusion. And when this is said, it does not mean that all the older aspects of Christian theol- ogy which traditionalists would seek to hold have no ultimate meaning. It no more means that these must be considered as carelessly abandoned than France considered Mauberge and Lille to be aban- doned because for the time her warfare had shifted to other ground. It was on the Marne and on the Aisne and in the long struggle of the trenches that victory had to be fought for, in order that at length all the provinces might be regained. In exactly the same manner, if the Holy Spirit of wisdom comes into the Church today, it will come to teach it that the warfare of the Christian intellect must be concentrated now on very vital and simple matters if the victorious 178 le es ee PeiberlNiDWiR LEN Gis PUREE flags at last are to be planted over the wide spaces which are precious to ancient faith. But the Holy Spirit as the Spirit of truth has another contribution to make in addition to the ones we have indicated. It does not only teach the way in which Christian truth can be defended against denial. That would leave the Christian witness a passive, half-hearted thing. It brings also the positive awareness by which the mind goes forward to new apprehension of the truth of Christ for today and for tomorrow. The tragic contradiction of the facts which led to the crucifixion of Jesus lay in the blind incapa- city of men to understand the reality which they confronted. Leaders of the Church in Jesus’ day, men who said their prayers and went every Sab- bath to worship, and all the lesser crowd who followed the spokesmen of the Church, clamored for Jesus’ crucifixion, not because He was the Savior, but because they stubbornly convinced themselves that He was no Savior at all. They were looking for a Messiah from God, but He did not square with their preconceptions. They wanted a deliverer with prestige and power, crowned and sceptred, with armies at his back. When this man out of the provinces, making His friends among the common people, and having no other title to authority except that curious hold which He had on men’s souls to make them ad- 179 SOME OREN WAYS TO (GOD venture recklessly for the Kingdom of God, spoke of Himself as being the Son of the Most High, they thought it was little short of blasphemy. To let Him live would be to deny their hope of a reve- lation from God which would convince the rich and powerful and all the people generally who think they count for most in this world. So they put Him to death in fierce good conscience. That is what the world will do today unless the Holy Spirit makes men wise. Christ may come again in humble guise. He comes in the aspirations of working men. He comes in the deep rebellion of the toiling masses against the idleness of parasites and the cruelty of irresponsible wealth. He comes to cast down the mighty from their seats and to exalt the humble and meek. He comes in the often inarticulate yet unquenchable hope of the common man to find a way to deliver this world from the abominable snatchings and plunderings of militarists and of so-called patriot statesmen who keep up the old round of war, and to build it instead into the brotherhood of a decent peace. He comes through those disturbing ideals which men who like this world as it is, because they fat- ten on its iniquities, hate and denounce as dan- gerous disturbances. He comes, just as He came in Palestine, with that amazing challenge of the Kingdom of God which makes hard-headed people who call themselves practical, both without the 180 THE INDWELLING SPIRIT Church and within it, fly into a passion. The power of God for the world’s redemption, that silent, tremendous power which ignores the out- ward appearances and lays hold of the inner springs of life and character, came to the world, and people who had plenty of shrewdness, but no inspiration, could not see it. They had no recog- nition of what He really was; and the question 1s whether there is much more recognition of Him now. ‘When the Son of man comes, shall he find faith on the earth?” asked Jesus. In this present civilization of ours, He may come in surprising influences and from surprising quarters, and the Church will need very acutely the guidance of the Holy Spirit if it is not to be so obsessed with its own notions and with the conventions and com- placencies of respectable and satisfied people, that it should fail to recognize and espouse the dis- turbing and difficult reformation which Christ may come to bring. 3. In the third place, the Holy Spirit may come as the Spirit of power. ‘There is a fine expression of what this means in the third of the essays, edited by B. H. Streeter and published a few years ago under the title, The Spirit: The Relation of God and Man, considered from the Standpoint of Recent Philosophy and Science. In that volume a physician, Captain J. Arthur Hadfield, writes as follows: 181 SO ME CORE Ne Wass) 1:07 GOie ‘While it has not been the purpose of this Essay to deal with questions of theology, I cannot help pointing out that our discussion of the psychology of power has a very direct bearing on the question of the dynamic of religion, and especially on the power possessed by the Christian religion of liber- ating energies which can transform the living soul into a quickening spirit. In its fundamental doc- trine of love of God and man, Christianity har- monises the emotion of the soul into one inspiring purpose, thereby abolishing all conflict, and liber- ating instead of suppressing the free energies of men. In its doctrine of the Spirit it emphasizes the element of power in religion. No reader of the New Testament can fail to be struck by the constant reiteration in different forms of the idea that the normal experience of a Christian at that epoch was enhancement of power—'‘I can do all things’—an enhancement attributed by them to the operation in and through them of a divine energy to which the community gave the name of the ‘Spirit—‘Ye shall receive power.’ Pentecost, the healing miracles of the Apostolic Age, the tri- umphant progress of the religion through the Ro- man Empire, the heroic deeds of saints and martyrs,—all these point to the sense of a power newly discovered. In contrast, looking at the Church of today, one cannot but be struck with its powerlessness. It contains men of intellect; it produces a type of piety and devotion which one cannot but admire; it sacrifices itself in works of kindness and beneficence; but even its best friends would not claim that it inspires in the world the sense of power. What strikes one rather is its impotence and failure. This want of 182 THE INDWELLING SPIRIT inspiration and power is associated with the fact that men no longer believe in the existence of the Spirit in any effective practical way. They believe in God the Father, and they are reverent; they believe in the Son, and the Church numbers among its members millions who humbly try to ‘follow in His steps’; but for all practical purposes they are like that little band at Ephesus who had ‘not so much as heard whether there be any Holy Ghost,’ and, lacking the inspiration of such a be- lief, they are weak and wonder why.” That is a statement which would be depressing in its description of the present if it were not so full of the better promise for the possible future. To the Church of today and tomorrow, and to the men and women in it, the Holy Spirit can come with fulness of power. Of that I shall not speak at length now, but shall save that rather for the chapter which is to follow on the Church, since it is, 1 believe, through the Church and through the inspiration of its fellowship, rather than to lives in isolation, that the Spirit of power will most truly come. But at this point we can plant at least the banner of our confidence that it does come. Into lives which by themselves are without beauty and without potency, the Holy Spirit can enter like the tide flooding into the bay, to deepen all the channels and to set the ships of stranded energies free for the far ocean ways. 183 CHAPTER V WHY BELONG TO THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH? WHEN we set down on a printed page the word “Church,” there it stands with exactly the same appearance for every eye that falls upon it; but out of those six letters, there will be read as many different meanings as there are minds to frame them. Let one speak of the Church as clearly as he may, yet he has by no means framed a limited little package of significance which every person to whom he would wish to convey it shall receive alike. On the contrary, he has, as it were, touched an electric button which will set in motion the in- finitely different machinery of the associations which in the thoughts of different people are con- nected with that surcharged word. Say that word “Church,” and in the minds of some will rise im- mediately a picture of some dearly familiar place —a slender white spire rising over the elms of a New England village, a plain building at the coun- try cross-roads with the country folk driving up the roads on Sunday; some spacious thing of stone, with glorious stained glass, built in the midst of a great city; a Cathedral, lifting its ancient towers over some grey town of the older world. Say that same word and in one mind there will rise the thought of worship framed in a rich liturgy 184 WHY BELONG TO THE CHURCH? with music, vestments, and colors; and in the thought of another will rise a picture of some plain meeting-house where worship is conducted with Quaker-like austerity. Or the word “Church” may suggest machinery of ecclesiastical administration, boards and conferences and coun- cils; and to some it will suggest the clamor of theological discussions rising from a miscellany of competing groups more intent upon exaggerating their differences than upon finding an understand- ing which might bind them together. So when today one broaches the question as to what one ought to believe about the Church and what one may rightly feel toward it, one is immediately confronted by this confusion as to the thing with which the belief or the feeling is supposed to have to do. What is the Church, and where shall we find a common denominator by which we may bring men’s multitudinous ideas to one clear basis of relation? To answer that, we need to look up along the branching rivers of the many different meanings toward their far unity in the hills. What impulse did all the many loyalties which call themselves by the name of the Church flow from in the first place? What is the creative and continuing source without which there would not be anything to be called the Church? 185 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD I 1. To that question, at least, Christians of all names and kinds can answer in essentially the same way. ‘They-would say that the Church is due to Jesus. It is meant to be the embodiment and the expression of His purpose in and for the world. However much the various groups of Christians might emphasize the marks which they consider essential to the properly developed Church of today, all of them would admit that the Church in its beginning was a very much simpler matter than the forms in which it is now known. Some of the Church buildings in coun- tries where Christianity first came into being are immensely ancient. But the Church existed before those most ancient buildings were ever set up. In the liturgies of the historic communions there are creeds and prayers which have been used for cen- turies; but the Church existed long before there were any liturgical forms. There has been deter- mined controversy concerning the proper form of Church government, and back in earliest Chris- tian literature are traces of the origins of pres- byters and of bishops and of the organized struc- ture which since has gathered round those names. But the Church existed before there was any 186 WHY BELONG TO THE CHURCH? scheme of government whatever. The Church began with a fellowship, intimate, personal, vital- ly related to one central fact. The Church began when Jesus gathered round Himself the little eroup of men to whom He was to communicate His Spirit, and out of whom He was to fashion the builders of His spiritual kingdom. When Jesus walked on the ways of Galilee, when He went out into the wilderness to pray, when He taught and preached and lived every day His visible message of the love of God, with James and John and Andrew and Peter and the rest of His friends around Him, there already the Chris- tian Church, the Ecclesia, the little fellowship who had been called out of the common life to be salt and leaven and seed for the future harvest, existed on earth in its essential spiritual fact. Whatever else might come afterwards could only enrich and confirm the reality which was already there. Sacraments might be needed later to con- vey effectively to men’s hearts that sense of the grace of Jesus which the disciples in their per- sonal contact instinctively felt in Him. Forms of ecclesiastical government would arise to admin- ister the affairs of the Christian community. But all these things could find their value only with re- lation to that first experience which they must hand down like fire through the torches of suc- 187 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD ceeding generations, namely,—the kindling emo- tion of lives directly lighted from the thought and will of Jesus. Wherever in any place or time there is a human fellowship which is finding God through Jesus, and, weaving the bond of a com- mon life in Him, there is the Church, and all church buildings, whether they be the log hut of the simplest mission or the mightiest cathedral towering to the sky, all forms of worship, whether of simplicity or grandeur, all forms of church gov- ernment, whether the simplest democracy of the congregation or the august authority of the popes of Rome, will ultimately be judged and valued not by any argumentative and theoretical consid- erations, but only by the living fact of whether or not they do keep men close to that which is for- ever the only heart of the living Church, namely, the life of Jeus communicating itself in mind and deed through His disciples. 2. I wish to dwell upon this conception of the Church with a very earnest emphasis, for I think it cleanses us from much false pride and brings us into the glow of a central truth before whose touch many little barriers of our stubborn preju- dices go down. We cannot ignore, of course, the conditions in the midst of which we actually find ourselves today. The Christian Church is not visibly one, but is divided into many distinct and 188 WHY BELONG TO THE CHURCH? sometimes very determined differences. Inevitably the men and women who have been reared in some particular form of Christian organization and with a form of Church worship and of govern- ment which long custom, both of thought and of practice, makes them regard as normal, and there- fore best, will want to preserve the values which they think are precious to Christian experience. I feel that way about the Church to which I be- long. I could not feel at home in any other com- munion which lacked the riches which it seems to me she holds in trust—her inheritance of liberty, yet of continuity too—her tradition of English freedom, yet of that sturdy reverence for tradi- tion which makes the life of today reach back into the deep, rich soil of the experience of many generations—her beauty of worship—her mystic consciousness of the Church itself as no mere so- ciety created casually by any group of human in- dividuals, but as the body of the faithful to whom the Lord Himself has promised to convey His sacramental grace—all this it means to me. Yet when I look back and see the infinite simplicity of my Master, I know that nothing counts either for the Church which I may love or for the Church which any other man may love except in so far as it makes Him manifest. I am not so vain as to imagine that anything which either I or 189 5» O-MLE? O PAN GOW AY Sir TtO Grae the Church itself, in its most authoritative pro- nouncements, can imagine to confer honor upon ~ the Lord, can really honor Him if in the result His spirit is hidden from the eyes of simple men. Looking at Him, I am quite sure that the Church is most likely to justify all the grandeur of its own conception of its mission in exactly the meas- ure in which it thinks least of this and most of Him. Whenever any part of the Church exalts its supposed prerogatives, it falls into the ancient mistake of the Pharisees and crucifies the actual Christ. I am sure that for any Church to prove that it has the apostolic succession the best way is to demonstrate that it has the apostolic success. If any Church manifestly does succeed as the Apostles did in casting the devils out of men’s hearts and putting the Spirit of Jesus there in- stead, then all theoretical arguments pro and con will be nothing but empty chatter in the face of the fact that the real succession of apostolic grace does evidently flow into that Church from the Apostles’ Lord. And when all the various branches of the Christian Church do demand of themselves and encourage in one another the au- thoritative simplicity of what the Church first of all is meant to be, the living creation of a fellow- ship between the heart of Jesus and the hearts of men, then one day the divided Churches may dis- 190 WHY BELONG TO THE CHURCH? cover that they have arrived at an inner unity which will enable all external differences to be dealt with in the adjustment of love. II But at this point, no doubt the man outside the Church will say: ‘That is all very well as a fine ideal. If the Church were like that, I might be interested in it; but it is not like that. It does not really concentrate on the simplicities of Jesus. It does not really come together on the important things. It is made up of a lot of competing sects filled with people who are not conspicuously better than their neighbors. However I might be drawn to the Church as it conceivably could be but is not, I am not drawn to the actual fact which I am offered.” That is what the man outside the Church may say in general. Sometimes his objections are still more explicit. It is well for us to take them up definitely and see what may be said in answer to them. 1. In the first place, it is often alleged that the Church is not worth entering because it has so many unattractive people init. “Its company does not win me,” says the man outside. So he stays contentedly where he is. Now it must be confessed that the Church does IgI SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD have unattractive people in it, and a lamentable plenty of them. To begin with, the ministers. They may be as unattractive sometimes as the worst enemy of the Church could desire. There are occasions when, instead of believing in God through His ecclesiastical representative, the would-be disciple must shut his eyes to the gloomy discouragement which some minister whom he knows presents and deliberately climb over him, or go round him, as an obstacle in the path that leads to God. Said Jowett of Balliol to Margot Asquith, “Margot, you must believe in God, in spite of what the clergy say.” Some preachers make religion seem like a dismal penance instead of wings to lift the soul. They look as though they were the “original somebody who is always taking the joy out of life,” and sometimes, which is almost worse, they make religion appear to be a perfunctory routine. It was of such that David Garrick was doubtless thinking when he is reported to have said, as he mused indignantly once on a certain preacher, ‘In my profession I take ficti- tious things and make them appear real, and he takes real things and makes them appear ficti- tious.”’ All this is a bad handicap for the Church to carry. Every dour minister is a forbidding ad- vertisement for the whole ecclesiastical climate, and the man outside, who moves in his irrespon- 192 WHY BELONG TO THE CHURCH? sible but on the whole cheerful world, decides that he will stay where he is. Nor is the trouble confined to the clergy. Some- body once asked a great preacher, who himself in his gay and brilliant enthusiasm of service was the type of all that the ministry ideally should be, ‘‘Why is it that ministers in general are not better than they are?’ And his quick answer was, ‘Because we have nothing but the laity to draw from.” It is the laity who furnish the min- istry. It is the laity who sometimes are account- able for the shortcomings of those who are try- ing to minister to that same very refractory lay flock. There was an old colored preacher once who made the following announcement to his con- gregation: ‘‘Bredren, I hear dere’s been some complaint about de longness of de sermon, and I’s got a complaint to make. It’s about de small- ness of de. collection. Hereafter de collection is ewine to be took up before de sermon, and the smaller de collection, de longer de sermon.” The tedium of the preaching in other churches than the colored one may often be due to the dulness of the congregation. If the people responded in a livelier fashion to the preacher’s efforts, he would have a livelier spirit to carry into next day’s work; but the trouble with our Christianity in the pews, and among the people who go out from the pews to create the atmosphere in the everyday 193 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD places, is that so often there is no joy of holiness about them. They are conscientious and honest, but somehow the Spirit has never touched their religion into flame. A great deal of the knowl- edge that people acquire in Churches seems to lie in their minds as a dusty theory rather than ever to come as a fire to the heart. “Chere was uncon- scious but most sure judgment in the wonder of a little girl who lay in a hospital one Easter-day and said to her nurse as she entered the room, “Did you know that this was Easter morning?” “Yes,”? said the nurse. ‘But did you know that this was the day on which Jesus rose again?” the little girl persisted. ‘‘Yes,” said the nurse a little impatiently. ‘“‘Why did you think I didn’t know?” “But how could you know,” said the child, “and look so dull?” That is what the unconvinced world often says as it looks upon the Church. How can it be in possession of any truth which has a thrilling mes- sage when the lives of so many members are un- inspired and dull? Is there anything in the Church to make it lastingly more congenial than the com- pany which is outside? Yes. Thereis. Not, it is true, to the man who has no moral earnestness in him and is only trying to find a flippant excuse for plausible indifference. Not to the man who has no desire for excellence. Not to the idler and the wastrel. But to the 194 Wily SBELONG LO! THE» CHURCH? thoughtful man who loves the best and believes in it and wants to find it, the Church does have con- genial company. In spite of its exceptions, in spite of its unpleasant temperaments, it does fur- nish a fellowship where clean joys and sound friendships and wholesome living are at a pre- mium. In the long run it does show life, not in its least, but in its most attractive aspect. Begin with the ministry. It is perfectly possible for a man to come into contact with some indi- vidual minister whose acid theology and stiff un- humanness disgust him with the whole idea of ecclesiastical leadership; but any man who holds one example of this kind as a sort of obsession before his thought is simply blinding himself to truth. When he lifts his eyes and sees the long perspective of the Church’s history, he sees it crowded with the glorious figures of those who have been the priests and prophets of God. There is no nobler fellowship than that of those who through the ages have been the spokesmen of the Christian Church, and the peoples of Western Europe were leavened with those ideals out of which their civilization came by such heroic mes- sengers as Columba, and Boniface, and Anskar, and Augustine. The whole level of human thought and aspiration was lifted by the creative spiritual power of such intrepid prophets of the truth as John Huss and Savonarola, Calvin and 195 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD John Knox, George Whitefield and John Wes- ley. With all the shortcomings of many of its representatives admitted, nevertheless the Chris- tian Church can measure its ministry against any other rank of men who have played creative parts in the building of our society and have reason for honor in that comparison. In many climactic mo- ments of human affairs it has been true, as Charles Silvester Horne eloquently wrote in his Romance of Preaching, of the ambassador of the Church, “When he takes the stage, all other actors are dwarfed. If he is not there, time itself seems to wait for his appearance. Prince and priest alike are insignificant in his majestic presence. Both his words and deeds are memorable. His inter- ventions, his appearances, mark the crises of his- tory.” In one of the tragic hours of the subjection of Belgium, on January 31, 1917, Cardinal Mer- cier wrote to the German Governor General: “There is a barrier before which military force is held up and behind which is entrenched inviolate right. On this side of the barrier it is we, the representatives of moral authority, who speak as masters. We cannot and will not let the word of God be shackled.” Because of the work in this our world of that Christian brotherhood, greater than any one communion, which at that time Car- dinal Mercier represented, the spiritual dignity of 196 WHY BELONG TO THE CHURCH? mankind does move out in every generation into an unshackled and more spacious freedom. Words like those are, of course, not always applicable. The average man does not rise to the level of the great. Else there would be no dif- ference in greatness. ‘The ordinary minister of the Christian Church, the ordinary priest, carry- ing on his humble responsibilities at some small post of routine duty, may not captivate the imag- ination; but the thoughtful man would admit that every community is better for the presence in it of a group of Christian leaders who by the high expectation of their office must hold themselves accountable, and try to win their people, to ideals of honor, of truth, and of unselfishness, and to a recognition of those unseen and spiritual values which are more important than any material gain. In the fine words of Van Vogt in his 4rt and Re- ligion: ‘‘A dmonition and exhortation, comfort, the reso- lution of doubt, the healing of the inly blind, these all are the uses of a good priest and true. He ts friend and fatherly confessor, counselor, guide, and man of God, bringing near the fresh peace and joy of the timeless and eternal world. He invites the strong to bear the infirmities of the weak, and in his church provides them a definite and ever ready medium for that ministry, varied, adaptable, and permanent. He carries to lonely, sick, and sorrowing persons the assurances of the 197 S'O.M'ti) ORIEN, WrA YS Oa G ae faith, assurances, . . . more than doubly strong because not merely his own and personal but rather of his office, representing the strong body of be- lievers and loyal workers behind him and around him in the church, whose servant he is, of whose word and faith he is but the mouthpiece: assur- ances received also because conveyed by one set apart to ponder holy things and pray for all souls.” Nor is it difficult to find here and there, in every time, some minister of such conspicuous quality that the whole life of a community may more and more take its tone from him. He may be in some little country church, quietly ministering all his life with simple devotion to simple folk. He may be the preacher in some great pulpit to which the multitudes look up. But equally it may be true that, when men come to look back upon the in- fluences which have laid hold of their lives, sweet- ened their thinking, given them a greater and stur- dier sense of duty for every day, lifted their hope and helped them to keep the perspective of their ambition true, they confess their gratitude, not to some statesman, not to the manipulator of business, not to the man who has made most money, but to the minister who has been to them the messenger of God. ‘The best spirits in every generation will always find the presence of such men congenial. They will thank God that the ministry does exist to hold up insistently the torch of the eternal things. 198 WHY BELONG TO THE CHURCH? Nor can the objection be made good that a man has good reason to stay out of the Church be- cause he holds that,—not the ministers now,—but the lay people, in the Church are unattractive. Rare is the man who would say that the spirit of his own mother is uncongenial to him; yet, as a matter of fact, most of the men in countries like ours who have had good mothers, have had mothers whose natures were sweetened and refined by the constant influence of the Christian Church. Through its worship and its fellowship, the Church has helped to create and sustain the de- votion of those who as builders of homes have given to their children the richest legacy of ideals and of character. If integrity and kindness and reverence and humility be the qualities that make people attractive, then the Church does fashion attractive people. It does not make them perfect. It does not lift all its members to a level which may not be reached and surpassed by individuals outside its ranks, for it starts with very various and unequal human material; but it does put into its people those elements of character and con- duct which make them more congenial to live with than they otherwise would have been, and more attractive than any other group which one is likely to find outside. In short, the talk which is sometimes heard to the effect that good fellowship and the real joy 199 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD of living are found outside the Church rather than in it, is mere shallow ignorance. It is only a false estimate of reality which could ever say so, for the friendships which are formed within the Church lay hold, not merely of a part of a man, but of the whole of him, not of his trivial preference and of his passing moods, but of his deepest desires. As I look back over my own ex- perience, I believe the conviction which it has bred in me is typical of all who have been blessed with the privilege of the best the Church can give. I think of the friendships of school, and then of those of college, and some of them were fine and lasting; and then I think of the friendships which I formed among the men who were studying to- gether in the theological seminary; and then of the friendships of a parish, where the minister is thrown into constant association with men and women in loyalties which call out, not only the best which is already in them, but something bet- ter than their best. I do not believe that any imaginable other association could develop friend- ships so deep, so true, so altogether satisfying as those which are possible under the inspiration of the Church. The world is full, of course, of all sorts of so-called friendships. A man may call his best friends those with whom he likes to sit down and gamble, because gambling is for the moment the thing he most enjoys doing. He may 200 / WHY BELONG TO THE CHURCH? count as his friends the men with whom he is asso- ciated in some hard-driving business, where he and they are tied together in the pursuit of their own profit. He may count as his friends the crowd with whom he mixes in some secret political deal. Or his friends may be that more or less floating group with whom he comes in pleasant but casual contact, the people he dines with, the men he talks with in his club, the ones he plays with on his holi- days. Out of all these friendships, of course, something beautiful may emerge, and will emerge if they arouse the actual human loyalty which makes people hold together because of their gen- uine regard for one another; but the trouble with most of the friendships formed on the basis of mere tastes or material interests is that they re- present no real coalescence of human personalities at all. They merely represent individuals linked together by certain artificial conjunctions at one small point of what ought to be their whole life; and if the whole life develops into nobler and larger interests, then the little thing that formerly represented the friendship becomes relatively in- significant and unsatisfying. But the friendships which are formed between men and women in the Christian Church do lay hold of the heights and depths and widenesses of their spirits. They draw them together by the compulsion of a loyalty so powerful and so transfusing that it melts them 201 SOM EnO PENG WAY Soa OrG Os with the glow of its high understanding. Such friendships have in them nothing to be grown away from, nothing unworthy or belittling at which developing experience could be ashamed; but, on the contrary, they bring a clean thorough- ness of regard and a confidence of expectation which lifts up and draws out the utmost that each has to give. There are few things so beautiful in the Bible as the story of the friendship of David and Jonathan, and that same sort of friend- ship, faithful, stimulating, free from any shadow of turning, is possible to men who learn to love each other in the Christian Church. 2. [he second objection made to the Church by the man outside is that the Church has hypocrites in it. The fact that it seems so is the highest recommendation of the Church. For what makes some people in the Church seem to be hypocrites? It is because they are in an organiaztion which recognizedly has such high standards that the person who does not measure up to them is condemned even by the disinterested observer as no fit representative of the Church. The very act of judging the poor Church member for what he is involves the recognition of what he ought to be. Now manifestly no one wants the Church to be an institution for manufacturing hypocrites. But also it is clear that if the man who is now in the 202 WHY BELONG TO THE CHURCH? Church is called a hypocrite when he is no worse than a thousand outside who escape any singling out for blame, at least a standard has been set up by which men are measured by a more challenging insistence. Furthermore, the charge that such and such a member of the Church is a hypocrite may often come more from the ill-nature of the critic than from any genuine liability on the part of the person so criticized. A hypocrite, in that word’s real meaning of a conscious impostor, is a very rare person in the Church, as everybody knows. What the objector to the Church has in mind when he talks of hypocrites is people who blunder and come short, and whose shortcomings are the more evident because of the measuring- rod of the Church’s ideal against which they have had the courage to try to range themselves. In more cases than not, the critic himself is troubled by his own bad conscience. He knows that the Church represents an ideal which is difficult to live up to. He does not want himself to espouse that difficulty, and he plausibly confirms himself in his own decision to do nothing by mocking the failure of the man who has tried to do something and who has stumbled in his attempt. The real hypocrite is the critic himself, because he is trying so to manipulate ideas that he shall make a virtue out of his own moral inertia, and an excellence out of his own lazy refusal to try to be excellent 203 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD at all. Fairly considered, this alleged objection to the Church on the ground that there are hypo- crites in it, does not deserve prolonged discussion. Nobody who is himself tremendously concerned about the moral or spiritual issues of life and sin- cerely desirous of- throwing his weight in with those forces which uphold the best, ever held aloof from the Church because of this drawback of the idea of hypocrites being in it. He is too busy trying to wield his own sword against what he knows to be the terribly real weapons of evil to stop superciliously to count some other man’s scars. The criticism of the shortcomings of the man who has enlisted as a soldier in the Church’s army, poor soldier though he be, generally comes from the man who does not want to enlist at all, but prefers the safe distance of a spectator to the melee of the spiritual combat; but the truth 1s that there may be more heroism in the man who, know- ing his weakness and unfitness, and knowing his liability to flinch before temptation and to be beaten to his knees by his besetting sin, yet goes on because God’s voice in his conscience will not let him utterly play the part of a coward or de- serter, than in all the complacent unwounded wit- nesses who hang upon the fringes of the battle to mark his fall. There is no need, then, of taking over-serious- ly the argument that there are hypocrites in the 204. WHY BELONG TO THE CHURCH? Church. If the assertion that hypocrites are there is understood to mean,-—and this is the ut- most which usually the truth permits to be meant, —that the Church has in it many very imperfect warriors; if it means that people are called hypo- crites because they have deliberately adopted for their lives a high standard which will bring their failures into the light, instead of adopting no standard at all and so keeping their whole stand- ard indifferently in the dark; if it means that people are hypocrites because they aim higher than they can yet attain and follow a conscience that bids them do their best at moral tasks which they have not yet learned how to master;—then the more hypocrites we have the better. And a man might well choose to be called one as the price of trying blunderingly to climb higher, than very successfully to avoid being called one by stay- ing in the meanness in which he now is. 3. A third objection made against the Church is that it does not accomplish anything. Someone may say, “Yes, I grant all that has just been said. I have no objection in the main against the kind of people who are in the Church. I admit that the talk about Church-members being unattractive and hypocritical is mostly fraud. The Church people are well-meaning enough. But what do they do? What is the actual value of the Church when it comes to accomplishment ?” 205 SO MEV OREN. WA YS 1 OmGages The answer to that depends upon what one is looking for? If by accomplishment one has in mind explosions of energy, blowing up like a vol- cano or rending like an earthquake, which break up the whole basis of our present life, shattering existing institutions and starting men rebuilding on a new plan, then it is obvious that the Church is not signalizing every day by some accomplish- ment. But it is also obvious that human life, if it had to be made over only by a process of vol- cano and earthquake, would hold out a wholly un- inviting prospect. Sometimes the Church, through its great re- presentatives, does lay hold of human affairs with sudden and drastic power. The mob in Thessa- lonica said of Paul and his companions, ‘These that have turned the world upside down are come hither also.’ But the real accomplishment of the Church is, as a rule, more like the accomplishment of climate. A change of climate will change the face of the earth. Geologists tell us that a very slight average decrease in the annual temperature over the northern part of the globe, perhaps not more than eight or ten degrees Fahrenheit, would suffice to bring on another glacial age. Little by little every winter the ice cap in the polar regions would accumulate. Little by little the snows would deepen and the glaciers form on the high mountains. Less and less would the warmth of the 206 WHY: BELONG TO THE CHURCH? summer be sufficient to melt the ice and snow which the winters had left, and so by scarcely per- ceptible but sure degrees the relentless march of the glaciers would begin again until vast regions of the earth now fertile and inhabited would be locked as once they were in the frozen embrace of cold and death. In the same way, if the Church should vanish from the earth, the spiritual climate would begin to change. Men would not notice it at first. They would think that the sun shone and that life went upon its way quite as it had done yeserday. But little by little the glow of those finer human emotions under which the most fragrant thoughts and actions of our race develop would begin to wane before the increasing pre- ponderance of the cruelty, the selfishness, and the hard materialism which always gather round the arctic fringes of our human nature. Slowly these things would begin their march across the prov- inces of life, and all the fields of human activity would begin to grow bleak and desolate in the deepening spiritual cold. It is often only the lack of the most precious elements of life which bring men to the acute con- sciousness of their value. As the days go on with their familiar warmth of the sun, with their tem- perate seasons and the long months of bright skies and fertile earth, it is easy to take for granted and to estimate indifferently the priceless boon of 207 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD genial weather. So a civilization accustomed to the presence in its midst of the Christian Church, with the steady warmth of its constant influence, and with its power to ameliorate the tempers of men and to quicken into fruitfulness the seeds of nobler thought, takes for granted the conditions to which it is accustomed, and does not always specifically recognize that it is to the Church in large measure that it owes them. Yet it would be a grievous fault that men should have to lose the thing they prize before they should know how much they prize it. A short while ago, in this spring of 1924, a cable dispatch from England carried the report that in England this year there had been an extraordinary number of suicides, which by many observers was attributed to the fact that it had been a winter of singular cloudi- ness and gloom, with long successions of days in which there had been no glimpse of the sun. The wretched drabness of the grey weather weighed with its intolerable depression upon men’s spirits, and for some of them actually made life seem no longer worth living. If the Church should pass out of the life of our civilization, the spirit- ual effect would be similar. Then, when perhaps it was too late, multitudes of people would realize that life had lost its warmth and light and color, which alone can make it desirable for any sensi- tive soul. 208 WHY BELONG TO THE CHURCH? And as we take this metaphor of climate to illustrate the influence of the Church, it needs to be remembered that that influence is exerted not only upon individuals but upon that group mind and will out of which the destinies of nations may be fashioned. Nothing is being more clearly re- cognized by thoughtful men than that something more than machinery of political plans and treat- ies and formal negotiations will be needed to save the world from the forces of war and disruption which threaten. There must be a new spirit in the hearts of the peoples. There must be some great power of good-will, shining as steadily as the sun, which can break through the fogs of hate and suspicion, lift men out of their depression and en- courage them for braver constructive tasks to- gether. Ina recent volume entitled ‘Realities and Shams,” Professor L. P. Jacks, the Editor of the Hibbert Journal, has said of those plans such as the League of Nations which have of late been fashioned to try to secure order and peace in our world: “At first sight the problem appears to consist in finding the right scheme, or the right idea, by the application of which this or that is to be mended. The importance of that I do not belittle—-nobody in his senses would dream of belittling it; but be- hind it lies the far greater problem of finding the power to carry out the scheme you have devised, 209 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD to give effect to the idea you have propounded. I am not referring to political power as it is repre- sented by masses of voters, by measures passed into law, by armies, and by policemen. I mean moral power, as it is represented by the steadiness of the public in the pursuit of its aims, by contin- uity of effort, by belief in principles, by mutual loyalty, by strict adhesion both to the form and the spirit of a pledge, and by the refusal to be led away by cant. This is the kind of power you want, and without which your scheme of recon- struction will never be carried out.” And further he wrote: “The likelihood that a good idea will take root and fructify as a social force is ultimately depend- ent on the good temper of the community to which it is addressed. Jn human society, improvement that is worth the name is never effected by one set of people forcing their ideas down the throats of another set. All improvement takes place by con- sent, by men seeing eye to eye, believing in com- mon and acting together in good faith and mutual loyalty for the given end. This loyal and con- tinuous consent can never be obtained, on a scale large enough to be effective, except in communities whose members, as human beings, are on good terms with one another, respect one another, trust one another, believe in each other’s good inten- tions, and take a generous view of each other’s merits and demerits.” It is quite true that the Christian Church, as it 210 WHY BELONG TO THE CHURCH? now appears in the world, does not obviously pre- sent a power able to create that human good-will which Principal Jacks has pointed out to be our sorest need. The divisions within the Church it- self, the slow imagination of some of her leaders, and the failure of many of her people to interpret her opportunity in terms of world regeneration, wound the power which the Church ought to pos- sess; but notwithstanding that, what other force in society has potentialities comparable to the Church in this matter? If the Church cannot fur- nish the good-will which our society needs, we shall look far to discover any other institution which can furnish it. And if we consider the facts, we shall recognize that the Church, when men turn to it with an ex- pectant challenge, does already furnish the most hopeful influence which at this moment is in opera- tion. Men who try to reach the public opinion of the American people for a larger measure of inter- national cooperation—the men, for example, who go out to interpret the World Court or the League of Nations—repeatedly discover that the most effective influences for bringing together the rep- resentative groups of citizens, through which a message can be given to the people who count most, and by which the public opinion can be regis- tered, are the groups of local ministers. Cham- bers of Commerce and other business organiza- 211 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD tions may be mildly interested; but usually they have no aptitude for bringing people together ex- cept for more or less technical matters of business concern. It is through the representatives of the Church that the mind and conscience of the people can be reached> The growing activity in the United States of the Federal Council of Churches is the brightest example of what the Church as a whole can do. The calling of the Conference on Limitation of Armaments in Washington in 1921 was due in no small measure to the insistent desire of Church people which the Federal Council brought to a focus of expression in this matter. It is significant that Church bodies of every sort “1 the United States have been almost overwhelm- ingly in favor of constructive efforts for world peace, and the hope that we may move forward to success rests in large measure upon the driving power of that idealism which the Church repre- sents. Therefore it is time that we should turn from the negative aspect of the subject of this chapter to the positive one. The objections to the Church may be recognized, but for the thoughtful spirit they can also be removed. Notwithstanding its imperfect members and notwithstanding the weak- ening caused by its divisions, the Christian Church represents the ‘nstrumentality in the world today through which the Holy Spirit of God may work 212 y 4 A \ WHY BELONGS TO THE: CHURCH ¢ for the nobler development of our human life, and as such it challenges the allegiance of men and women of high purpose and good-will. Iil The Church can become this instrumentality for the operation of the Holy Spirit because of such facts as these. 1. In the first place, because the Church assures the nurture of the ideal. It accustoms, not only adults, but what is even more important, boys and girls, to the thought of God’s purpose in Jesus Christ as the standard against which their lives must be measured. It surrounds them with the atmosphere of moral and spiritual expectation, by the unconscious breathing of which their whole growth will be affected. What this means, and what the reverse of it may mean, can be readily apparent to any observer of contemporary life. There is at the present time an appalling amount of juvenile delinquency. ‘The overwhelming majority of the criminals who are sent to prison from our great American cities are very young men. That on the face of it is a con- demnation of the Church. As a matter of fact, it does not represent a failure of the Church except as it represents the very imperfect extension of that influence which is of priceless value whenever 213 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD it is brought to bear,—for it has been repeatedly testified by judges of courts, by social workers, and others who have investigated the facts as to moral delinquency, especially among American youth, that practically always the boys and girls and young men and women who come into the courts are discovered to have been those who have never been brought up in any Church or Sunday-school. They have passed through no nursery of charac- ter. They have grown up without any knowledge of those religious expectations which develop high self-respect. On the other hand, those boys and girls who have been taught under religious influ- ences have learned that there is such a thing as a moral code to which they are expected to be true. They have been given the sense of accountability to something high and steadying, and best of all, in Christian Sunday-schools and Churches they have been made familiar with the personality of Jesus Christ, so that for them it is never again quite possible to have a mean, unclean, and selfish life go unrebuked by the ideal which He repre- sents. ‘It is easy to recognize also that the instinctive judgment of the world perceives in the Christian Church a sensitiveness to high responsibilities which makes the forces working for betterment in society always turn to the Church for help. Much is said in our day of the fact that many of the lead- 214 WHY BELONG TO THE CHURCH? ers in social work seem to have broken their con- tact with the Church; but it is equally true that when the personal history of those same social workers can be traced, it is repeatedly made evi- dent that the source of their practical idealism leads back to the inspiration which they received, either personally or through inheritance, from the Church; and it is further a fact that whenever an unselfish cause is to be set forward, it is to the Church that people turn for its encouragement. The Christian minister immediately looms as a likely ally before the hopeful imagination of every promoter of a new crusade. There is scarcely a Sunday in the year which he is not solemnly im- portuned to dedicate to some particular cause, un- til—if he adopt them all—the entire church cal- endar would appear as one continuous propaganda of specific social ameliorations. According to the requests which come, there would be a ‘“Tubercu- losis Sunday,” a “Child Labor Sunday,” a “Red Cross Sunday,” a ‘Near East Relief Sunday,” a “Disabled Veterans Sunday,’ a ‘World Court Sunday,” and all sorts of others, as variegated as the colors in Joseph’s coat. Why do all these causes and a host of others backed by earnest people turn to the Church and ask the Church to help them by the message of its pulpit and the money of its people? It is because they know that there is a natural kinship between the spirit 215 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD of the Church and the spirit of any and every sort of selfish endeavor, and though their particular suggestion as to the way in which the Church can help may often be crude and impractical, their sense that the people who make up the Church are the ones from whom help will most surely come is profoundly true. If any one questions that fact, all he needs to do is to take the list of contributors to the great charities and the outstanding agencies for social betterment, whether these involve the special and dramatic appeals such as were made in the time of war, or the steady and routine inter- est of ordinary days, and compare the list of giv- ers with a list of members of the Church. He will find that any organization which had to do without that part of its support which traces back to the inspiration of the Church would very soon be dead and buried. Furthermore, there is a notable fact concerning the Church which superficial appearances may dis- guise. According to these appearances, the Church often seems to have very little movement in its thought. With the slow passing of the years, there drifts into the channels of the Church’s life the impalpable but slowly stifling dust from the com- mon and familiar influences of its world. ‘The waters of that quickening spirit which should flow through the Church may become blocked into little pools, shallow, stale, and even corrupt; but the 216 WHY BELONG TO THE CHURCH? mighty fact is that, though the Church in tem- porary and superficial aspect may thus often seem to represent the spent forces of conservatism and stagnation, nevertheless it is forever within the ground which the Church possesses that those great fountains lie out of which the flooding waters again and again will break. Far down beneath even the most dusty and arid forgetfulness of any generation, still within the Church’s profounder consciousness are the wells of the remembrance of the words of Jesus,—and the mystic well of the sacrament of remembrance of His death. In those mighty moments of history, when the great souls come with that intuition which goes back to the eternal springs of the thought of Jesus, they strike the ground of the Church’s life, as Moses struck the rock in the wilderness, and the waters of the recovered meaning of the Lord leap again into the sunlight and flow in streams that refresh all the parched provinces of men’s life. That was true, for example, when in the midst of the corruption of the later Renaissance, Savonarola arose in Florence. At the time when the Church was being conformed to the paganism of his world, he brought back to it the transforming thought of the moral imperatives of Christ. In the next century Martin Luther did the same thing with an even surer power. It mattered not that all the organ- ized authority of the Church and Empire too were 2177 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD set against him. Standing before Charles the Fifth, the princes, the cardinals, and the legate of the Pope, he concluded his statement with those greatly simple words: “Here I stand. I can do no otherwise. God help me. Amen.’ What he accomplished for the Reformation, no power of any single man could have accomplished. His work was possible because through him there issued again the living waters of the power of Christ, the channels of which may be impeded, but can never be destroyed. In those two problems which most concern the social conscience of our day, the consensus of thoughtful men more and more points out this power of the resurgent ideals of Jesus as the indis- pensable influence by which good men can be in- spired to accomplish what they desire. I mean, on the one hand, the problem of working out some genuine principle of codperation in our economic order, and, in the second place, the development of a new spirit as between the nations which may deliver civilization from the threatening annihila- tion of war. In his notable book on The Recon- struction of Religion: A Sociological View, Pro- fessor Ellwood has written: “There is no hope of the realization of a social life dominated by love without Jesus, for there is no one to whom the world would turn for such a vision if his leader- ship were denied. And in making himself the 218 WHY BELONG TO THE CHURCH? moral and social leader of mankind he has surely become the redeemer and savior of his fellow- men.” And again he says, “The world is perish- ing for lack of knowledge of the way in which human beings should live together. The Church holds one key to this knowledge, the social ideals of Jesus; and social science the other.’ That is to say, he recognizes, as other profound thinkers of the day are doing, that the whole question of our economic readjustment in the way which shall make for real satisfaction of human spirits comes back in the last analysis to religion. There can be no adequate transformation of the machinery of our social order without a sufficient motive, and the only motive powerful enough to fire men’s im- aginations and to claim their will is the strength of that consecration which Jesus commands. That “the world is perishing for lack of knowl- edge of the way in which human beings should live together” all earnestly thoughtful people would agree. And if there are some who believe very readily that “‘social science” holds one key to this knowledge but are slow to believe that the organ- ized Church holds another indispensable key, the representation of the truth may well rest in these fine words which Jane Addams has written in her “Twenty Years at Hull House”: “One Sunday morning I received the rite of 219 SOME OPEN WAYS /1D0 GOwm baptism and became a member of the Presbyterian church in the village. At this time there was cer- tainly no outside pressure pushing me towards such a decision, and at twenty-five one does not ordinarily take such a step from a mere desire to conform. While I was not conscious of any emo- tional ‘conversion,’ I took upon myself the outward expressions of the religious life with all humility and sincerity. It was doubtless true that I was “Weary of myself and sick of asking What I am and what I ought to be,’” and that various cherished safeguards and claims to self-dependence had been broken into by many piteous failures. But certainly I had been brought to the conclusion that ‘sincerely to give up one’s conceit or hope of being good in one’s own right is the only door to the Universe’s deeper reaches.’ There was also growing within me an al- most passionate devotion to the ideals of democ- racy, and when in all history had these ideals been so thrillingly expressed as when the faith of the fisherman and the slave had been boldly opposed to the accepted moral belief that the well-being of a privileged few might justly be built upon the ignorance and sacrifice of the many? Who was I, with my dreams of universal fellowship, that I did not identify myself with the institutional state- ment of this belief, as it stood in the little village in which I was born, and without which testimony in each remote hamlet of Christendom it would be so easy for the world to slip back into the doctrines of selection and aristocracy?’ 220 WHY BELONG TO THE CHURCH? And if the Church is needed for its nurture of those ideals which may redeem our economic or- der, so it is needed also to nurture those ideals which alone can deliver our world from interna- tional strife. To my own memory the truth is symbolized by a scene to which my thoughts go back in Northern France. There outside a broken wall at the beginning of a long plain which stretched away to hills on the western horizon, day by day the broken bodies of men killed at the front or dying in hospitals were brought to be buried. Not far from the wall was a garden which some French peasant had planted in the spring. Between the wall and the garden grew the increasing files of hasty graves. Day by day as the bodies were brought, new graves were dug, and the newest of them reached out nearer and nearer to the garden. At last they invaded it and slowly swallowed it up. It was as though death itself were creeping on, drawing down into its in- exorable maw, not only the life of today but the very sustenance and promise of the life of tomor- row. And then from that place with its raw earth and the lengthening graves and the sombre twilight falling across the plain, I would turn my eyes and look where to the east, over the walls and roofs of the ancient town, rose the grey facade of the old cathedral which was builded before some of the nations that were in the war were born. On 221 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD the stone front of it was carved a great crucifix. Silently there, where the dawn would rise behind it, it brooded over the long tragedy of the war. In that figure, with its infinite compassion, with its ideals of life undefeated by death and by the cross of human sin, is the promise of the ultimate tri- umph. And through men and women nurtured by the Church in His ideals, there must come the strength for the better world that is to be. 2. In the second place, the Church adds to the nurture of the ideal the power of a proven confi- dence. The trouble with many of the efforts at reform in our day is that they rest on no deep foundation. They depend upon the personal enthusiasm of little groups of people who have conceived some new idea and set out self-sufficiently to realize it. When discouragements thicken and their own best energies seem to be set at naught, they have noth- ing to fall back upon. They have not linked their staccato efforts with that mightier movement of the long purposes of God, in relation to which our individual postponements are relieved of their dis- may. The mind which has been tutored by Christian- ity reads history with a perspective which finds in it the evidence of something stronger and sturdier than our own human efforts. It sees that one increasing purpose through the ages runs. It 222 WHY BELONG TO THE CHURCH? believes that there is a power of God with which one day may be as a thousand years and a thou- sand years as one day. It perceives that the supreme successes have not always been those which were marked by hasty effects. It perceives that the sufferings and martyrdoms of heroes have often been more potent than the acts of conquer- ors in bringing about the triumph of the ideals by which they live and for which they are willing to die. In Jesus Christ Himself many generations of Christians have found, not only their thought of what might be an ideal for life, but their brave confidence that despite all temporary disaster and loss, the real forces of the universe are on the side of that faith and devotion which He lifted up. When John Huss was being led to his death at the stake by the judgment of the Council of Constance, he said, addressing his executioners, “The Lord Jesus Christ, my Redeemer, was bound with a harder chain, and I, a miserable sinner, am not afraid to bear this one, bound as I am for His Name’s sake.’ Then he repeated, “In the same truth of the Gospel which I have written, taught, and preached, drawing upon the sayings and posi- tions of the holy doctors, I am ready to die to- day.” And he wrote in one of his letters that after his death God would raise up braver men to ‘Jose their lives for the truth of the Lord Jesus.” The world today does not have its stake and fagot 223 SOME OPEN WAYS TO GOD and fire for the prophet of spiritual truth. Never- theless, even now it has its ordeal of ridicule for the idealist, of scorn and rejection for the man who goes ahead of his time; and if today, as in other generations, the creative and pioneering spirits are to be brave to carry out their lonely task, they will need exactly what John Huss found, and what the real genius of the Church can give,— namely, the sense of the present as still in the hands of God because the past is seen to have been directed by His unhurrying yet most sure will. As we look upon our contemporary existence, we find in it much of which no one can be proud. Yet as we compare it with the past, we know that human life has moved on and up out of the valley of one old iniquity after another toward the higher levels which rose ahead. In that progress we have left human sacrifice behind. We have left slavery behind; and the conscience at least of the vanguard is beginning to leave behind and to repudiate the ‘dea that war is an inevitable and necessary thing. The life of the common man, in the freedom of his body and in the liberty of his mind, in his chance to hope for his share of opportunity for himself and for his children, is an infinitely fairer thing than it was in the centuries gone. The ad- mitted injustices and inequalities of our modern social order cannot obscure the greater fact that the lot of the average citizen in the free nations 224. WHY BELONG TO THE CHURCH? of the world today represents, if not Paradise, at least a very high and hopeful circle of Purgatory in comparison with the Hell of wretchedness and subjection in which the unregarded multitudes once were kept. “Some call it Evolution, And others call it God.”’ The Christian Church does call it God. It believes that the Holy Purpose, slowly controlling the un- ruly wills and affections of sinful men, has been leading the human family on to better things, and because it thus believes that the progress made in the past has been, not blundering chance, but the result of the working of a Spirit whom the spirit of man can trust, it has the braver confidence to lay hold of the future because the foundation of that faith is strong beneath its feet. 3. In the third place, the Church can be the in- strumentality for the Holy Spirit because it gives a solidarity to strength. “A solidarity!’ some may exclaim incredulously. “Where is any solidarity in the Church, divided as it now is? Is not that the very thing which the actual facts of organized Christianity make a mock of ?” If we look at certain appearances and only at these, then the answer is Yes; but there is a deeper fact beneath the appearances. As a group made 225 SiO. MOE O-RsEING Wi ALY Sot OG ae up of representatives of the Church of England on the one hand and of represéntatives of the Free Churches on the other, meeting together in England with reference to the proposed World Conference on Faith and Order, said recently in a statement which they jointly subscribed: “As there is but one Christ, and one Life in Him, so there is and can be but one Church. “This one Church consists of all those who have been, or are being, redeemed by and in Christ, whether in this world or in the world be- yond our sight, but it has its expression in this world in a visible form. Yet the Church, as in- visible and as visible, is, by virtue of its one life in Christ, one. “The true relation of the Church and local Churches is that which is described in the New Testament——namely, that the Churches are the local representatives of the One Church. The actual situation brought about in the course of his- tory in which there are different and even rival denominational Churches independent of each other and existing together in the same locality, whatever justification arising out of historical cir- cumstances may be claimed for these temporary separations, cannot be regarded as in accordance with the Purpose of Christ, and every endeavor ought to be made to restore the true position as set forth in the New Testament.” These words express a realization, now wide- spread among thoughtful Christian people, that 226 Wirt bo OUN Gun LO Cr He CEURCE ¢ the present discordant division of the ideal Church into many rival denominations represents a grave forfeiture of the Church’s highest life and power. Earnest efforts are being made in several quarters to draw together bodies of sundered Christians into larger fellowships. The recent movement towards union of the Methodist and Presbyterian Churches in Canada, now nearly consummated, is one example. The proposed World Conference on Faith and Order is a far more ambitious ef- fort toward the same ideal of Christian solidarity. Through slow and patient preparation, it has now come to pass that many Christian communions, all over the world, have appointed commissions who are definitely arranging the details of the Confer- ence to be held within the next two or three years, at which representatives from almost all the im- portant bodies of the Christian world will meet together frankly to face their differences and to try to find the way toward an effective reunion of Christendom. But meanwhile, even with the many Christian divisions, there is already a rapidly developing coéperation of strength between Christian com- munions in actual service. Here in America par- ticularly, there have been notable instances of the way in which a common Christian conscience and will, overpassing all denominational bounds, can be mobilized with great power in issues which af- 227 SOME 0 PAB -Witol STO G Gao ' fect the moral ideals of the whole people. Un- questionably, the fight against the commercialized liguor traffic would never have gone forward in any such formidable fashion as has been the case except for the strength which was recruited from numberless congregations of Christian people who, notwithstanding the fact that they had denomina- tional differences, were united in one resolution to strike down the organized evil which was respon- sible for so much degradation and misery in the nation. ‘The issue of the very vast social experi- ment which has culminated in the enactment of constitutional prohibition in the United States is not yet fully determined; but it is true that if at last the elimination of alcoholic drink as a cause of social misery does plainly result, it will have been through the steady pressure of a sentiment aroused in the Churches that the achievement thus is reached. In those matters of industrial reorganization which lead to a larger human justice, the influence of the Church has also made itself weightily felt. The Interchurch World Movement, in the years after the war, was promoted with an enthusiasm _ which outran its practical ways and means, and its far-flung effort to rouse simultaneously the thought and coGrdinated energies of all the Protestant Churches of America failed to do what it had planned to do. Nevertheless, in such fragmentary 228 WHY BELONG TO THE CHURCH? accomplishment at least as its report on the Steel Strike, it brought Christian industrial demands into expression, and, like old Bishop Latimer, it lit a candle which is not easily put out. Early in 1923, Judge Gary, the head of the United States Steel Corporation, declared the eight-hour day in the steel industry to be economically impossible. The reply published throughout the country by the Federal Council of Churches had a large part in summoning up a public opinion which insisted that the thing which Judge Gary had said to be impossible must, nevertheless, be attempted; and in response to the public opinion in which the Church’s voice had a major share, the United States Steel Corporation did adopt the eight-hour day, which it had already admitted to be humanly desirable, and has since admitted to have proved economically practicable also. | In 1921, when the question was first broached in the United States Congress of having an inter- national conference on disarmament convened by the President of the United States, the first indi- cations were that there was by no means a fervent and preponderant interest in this suggestion either in Congress or in the administration. There was needed the aroused opinion of the nation, and this opinion the Churches did proceed to arouse and to focus into expression. As Dr. John H. Finley wrote at that time, ‘‘This far-reaching proposal 229 S OMEWOIRITE IN: SW ASE Oi Gaone was made possible by the nation-wide tide of pub- lic opinion which has supported the calling of the Conference and which has made it as clear as day- light that the people everywhere are not only ready for a thorough-going reduction of armament, but insistent that it should no longer be delayed. In developing and expressing this public sentiment, the churches have played a memorable part. Even the most critical could not declare that on this issue they have been either indifferent or ineffec- tive. In fact, it is not too much to say that they have been one of the decisive factors in setting our nation before the world as the outspoken ad- vocate of the abandonment of the policy of com- petitive armament.” And as an evidence that Dr. Finley did not overstate the facts, consider these letters, written in answer to an inquiry, by Senator Hitchcock, and by Senator Borah, the author of the original resolution in the Senate which first suggested the Conference. They wrote: “IT have no hesitation in saying that the out- spoken attitude of the churches of the United States on the subject of disarmament has been an important influence in bringing the matter to a head. I have no means of measuring the force of this church influence, and I cannot even tell you how many churches accepted the suggestion of those who originated the idea for action, but inas- much as all the expressions from churches were of the same purport and there was no disagreement 230 WHY BELONG TO THE CHURCH? in church organizations, I am inclined to think that there has been a general assumption that all religious organizations favored disarmament, and this fact has had an important influence. “GM. Hitchcock.’ “T have no doubt that the expression of opinion of the Christian congregations in America and the Jewish synagogues upon this important subject re- sulted in great good and helped most substantially to advance the cause. “T was greatly pleased when this action was taken, and too much credit cannot be given the churches for the part which they took. “William E. Borah.” The Conference on Limitation of Armament was, of course, only one step in the direction of international conciliation. Far greater ques- tions than any which that Conference grappled with need to be settled if the world is to have done with war. Those questions are still before us— questions involving for America decision as to whether this nation shall enter the World Court, whether it shall associate itself with the League of Nations, and whether it shall find and follow other deliberate and constructive policies for the crea- tion of world conditions on which peace can be reasonably built. To face these questions effec- tively will require both imagination and conscience. No thoughtful observer of American conditions 231 SOME); OREN WAYS: TO°> GO) can fail to see that the source from which this im- agination and conscience is most apt to come is the opinion of the Church. It has often been charged against Protestantism particularly that it is so essentially divisive that it can never act as‘an effective and coherent Chris- tian force; but in recent years the Federal Coun- cil of the Churches has gone far to reverse that belief. It has become the increasingly dependable and effective medium through which the Churches can reach a common consciousness and express a common will. Its research department has been of extraordinary value in gathering with swift au- thority and making public through its widespread channels information about great public issues in relation to which individual ministers and congre- gations would have had great difficulty in finding the truth. Through its various commissions, it has given the progressively educated Christian opinion representative agencies through which to express itself with regard to industrial justice, law enforce- ment, Christian race relationships, and world peace. Furthermore, it has had extraordinary success in certain instances in relating the moral opinion of Protestantism to that of the Roman Catholic Church and in bringing these unitedly to bear upon the great issues of public concern in which the Christian conscience was agreed. Thus, though it is true that the divisions in 232 WHY BELONG TO THE CHURCH? Christianity do sadly hamper its effectiveness in service and do sometimes poison its spirit, yet it is not true that there lack the signs of a growing codperation which men of good-will can foster. There may be enough, on the one hand, to give a specious plausibility to the man who seizes upon the divisions in the Church as an excuse why he will not work within the Christian organization; but there is plenty of fact, on the other hand, to hold out its invitation to the man of genuine pur- pose who wants to find the way in which he can make his strength count in an increasing power of human association for the ideals of Jesus. From such men, the Church by what it is today, and for the sake of what it can be made tomor- row, has a right to claim a loyalty, discriminating yet positive, which might well express its desire for the Church in these words of the Book of Common Prayer, “Where it is corrupt, purify it; where it is in error, direct it; where in anything it is amiss, reform it; where it is right, establish it; where it is divided, reunite it... . For the sake of Jesus Christ.” IV “For the sake of Jesus Christ.” That is why the Church has the right to call the best of human emotion and human will into its ranks. ‘There 233 SOME VO REIN Wels ORG Oa are multitudes of people today, not yet in any ecclesiastical organization, who feel an instinctive reverence for Jesus Christ. They would like to have His Spirit prevail in our world. They be- lieve that if He could go about among us, with His great sense of-eternal values, with His inter- pretation of all life in terms of the growth of human souls toward their sonship in the family of God, with His holiness, His gentleness, His king- liness of service, this business of our daily living, so often poor and mean, would become a higher, holier, and infinitely more happy thing. Yet Jesus Christ as a visible presence is no longer here. Is | He therefore to be only a wistful memory of what was long ago, and effectively is no more? If the Church had no glorious meaning, that sorry con- clusion might be true: but the loyalty of men and women now can fill the Christian Church with that meaning which makes it the Body of Christ, as from the beginning it has been meant to be. Back of all the little divisions, higher than all temporary misunderstandings, rises the imperishable beauty of that true Church into which all strong souls can enter. It is the fellowship of those, whatever be their name, who are trying with increasing codper- ation to bring the Spirit of Jesus to bear upon their world. It is the mystic body, made up of a unity of innumerable lives, which shall be today the lips to speak the truth of Christ, the feet to go 234 Witty BE LONGO PHESCHUORCE!: upon His ways of service, the hands to build His ideals into fact. To lift one’s own life and to lift the life of congregations into that high conscious- ness of the Church, is the noblest task which faces all aspiring souls in our world today. 235 NW te) ae a on ku < “At Ne 4 Pe E TO My ei x Dyk dee ST ihey SLI ARORA Mur ALMA CAME oN ee PRE x SG Nt RY | 4 a Princeton Theological Seminary-Speer Library bee ye tea 1 1012 01129 it “ah 4 -_ — _— — L t ‘ AN ing t h / HNC! Ay i iM mu Fs ; nl } ' % Ms { i ‘ Ld { } : @ e ' 4 . } \ H 4 t a l ,— 1K , } # * i, } iW, 1 - y i] V ] ; Pe ! i i o d 7 } * : t bie - " b hE } i y 4a aes Y cooley a * Sta ses cae