V ! BT 77 .582 1914 Stearns, Wallace N. b. 1866. A working basis u (i IG r 5t Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2018 with funding from Princeton Theological Seminary Library https://archive.org/details/workingbasisandoOOstea A WORKING BASIS AND OTHER ESSAYS BY y WALLACE N. STEARNS BOSTON: THE GORHAM PRESS TORONTO: THE COPP CLARK CO., Limited Copyright, 19141 by Wallace N. Stearns All Rights Reserved The Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A. TO THE MEMORY OF MY MOTHER •'i 't; ■ to. t PREFACE I N common with my fellows in the teach¬ ing profession, it has been my duty to endeavor in simplest terms to answer certain inquiries, to the end that inquir¬ ing minds might gain some approach to what are really the greatest problems in the stu¬ dent life. If these efforts help some one to a footing on the pathway that leads to more serious ef¬ fort and stimulate a desire for further in¬ quiry, we are content. have no quarrel with theology; I know none to quarrel with. What is beyond lifers spectrum is a mystery to me. I do not know much of the ultra red or ultra violet either, except that there is power and force and wis¬ dom existing there. But the play of colors be¬ tween, with its high lights and its dark lines, I do know a little of, and I love it—just as I love our ocean down here, with its depths, its strength and its dangers, its colors and moods, its icy mountains, its trackless wastes, and yet withal its snug harbors and sheltering islands and warm land breezesJ’ Grenfell. CONTENTS Page I A Working Basis. 11 II On Reconciliation. i? III On Immortality . 3^ IV On Conscience . 45 V On the Reasonableness of Prayer. 53 VI On the Seat of Authority in Re¬ ligion . ^3 VII On the Person of Christ. 73 VIII On Progressive Revelation. ... 83 IX On Faith and Science. 97 A WORKING BASIS ^^When that which is perfect is come that which is in part shall he done away!^ — Paul, A WORKING BASIS T he only thing constant in this world is change. W^hat was here yesterday is not here today and what is here today will be gone to¬ morrow. Change is the law of progress, the assurance of life. Rest is stagnation, death. The only difference between a rut and a grave is one of depth. Uniformity, monotony, fix- —this would be an impossible world. That our thinking conforms to this law need not be cause for alarm. Changing opin¬ ion proclaims larger wisdom, a more intelli¬ gent hold on the verities. It is not truth that changes, but our vision of the truth, our ap¬ prehension of that which we have not com¬ prehended. The distant view toward which we have travelled changes at each step or, better, our conception of it constantly approx¬ imates to the reality. II 12 A WORKING BASIS What is true of the individual mind is true of the race. For a generation at a time thought has seemed to stand dormant, appar¬ ently content with what had been achieved. Again as if by an upheaval, criticism, at times destructive, has wrought havoc with tradi¬ tion, and mind like an unwilling mariner has set out in quest of a new haven. Such crises have often been the heralds or even the con¬ comitants of periods of political and social stress. But despite temporary distress, such experiences have wrought for better times. The checkered and often disastrous career of Greek philosophy, for example, helped to pre¬ pare the way for Christian thinking, and we are only just beginning to learn the debt we owe. The query arises, what are we to do while we are thus painfully approaching the truth, which is still so far away and so far from at¬ tainment? We must establish a working basis. The carpenter in the construction of a build- A WORKING BASIS 13 ing erects a structure roughly conforming to the plan. This is not permanent, but for the time being. It is not the building but a scaf¬ fold. It is the growing platform on which the workmen may stand as they build. The man of science constructs as well as he can from the partial data at hand a working hypo¬ thesis. No one knows better than he the tran¬ sient nature of the theory formulated, no one holds it with a greater readiness to discard a working hypothesis when discovery reveals its further futility. It was a working basis, and for the time being served as a point of ref¬ erence. Growing knowledge compels changes in this working basis. Theories like text-books have their day and disappear. So far from giving occasion for alarm there is cause for gratitude. The honest mind need not fear, but rather move confi¬ dently forward. It is not dissatisfaction but unsatisfaction. There is no quarrel with the old, simply a longing to keep pace with the 14 A WORKING BASIS present The thinking mind should beware, how¬ ever, lest a working hypothesis become a defi¬ nition. A definition ceases to be true as soon as framed. That which was defined has gone on, changing ever into something apparently new; the definition remains cold, lifeless, in¬ ert, changeless. Too many think they are holding to an old faith when they are holding only to a time-honored definition. We should seek rather illustrations. A statement even of fact is but an illustration whereby we convey our understanding for the time being. With our approximation to real¬ ity the definition becomes a yoke on our necks rather than a help: if viewed as illustrations merely, our statements become what they ought to be and really are, working bases, ON RECONCILIATION ^^For God was in Christ reconciling the world to HimselfF — Paul. ON RECONCILIATION S OME truths are imbedded deep in the human consciousness. They are older than the Old and New Testaments, they are as broad and deep as the Eternal. Of such is religion, There never has been a race or an age that did not recog¬ nize, though crudely, the claims of religion. The occasional revulsions of men have been offset by counter movements, and by a deep¬ er hold upon what had been for a time re¬ pudiated. Theologies have changed, dogmas have been abandoned, but faith and religion have continued. As religion is the deepest and strongest of the emotions, so, naturally, men have been conservative in changing re¬ ligious opinions and their conservatism here¬ in may be evidence of the intense reality of religion rather than indication of mere ob¬ stinacy. 17 i8 A WORKING BASIS Fundamental in religion are the ideas of a supreme being, of man’s relation to that be¬ ing, of the sundering of that relation, of man’s guilt therefor, and of a desire for re¬ storation or renewal. Here, as ever, we must forbear definitions and be content with pic¬ tures or illustrations. These basal concep¬ tions are too deep for hard and fast terms, for the rigor and vigor of logic. Judaism, together with other cults, held to these beliefs, and the pious Jew sought a me¬ dium for expression. Men sought for that figure which most fully and adequately con¬ veyed the full meaning and significance. Whatever may have been the origin of the rite, the Jews were wont to offer as a sacrifice the choicest of their herds and flocks. The best they had was none too good, and no less than this was demanded by the Law. Chris¬ tianity born as it was out of Judaism naturally availed itself of Jewish imagery and form. In seeking for language, for pictures that could ON RECONCILIATION 19 express the mission and work of Jesus, the early Christians found what they sought in the sacrificial system of Judaism. Jesus was represented as the Sacrifice, the lamb that was slain. That is, what the lamb had typified under the old system, that did Jesus repre¬ sent under the new, mediation between God and man. This was not a definition, not even an adequate expression; it was only a picture, a symbol, a type,—transient but suitable for the time. Christianity passed to the western world. The new auditors were not Jews but Gentiles, the larger Graeco-Roman world. The early preachers now cast about for a language wherewith to convey their message, language that would be understood by those to whom the message had now come. Greek philosophy during the years had not been idle. They had sought to solve the prob¬ lem of human destiny and in their search had hit upon the idea of a supreme being. But be- 20 A WORKING BASIS tween this being, whom they had made trans- cendant, and man, stood an impassible chasm. The fatality of the Greek thought was dual¬ ism. In endeavoring to mediate so as to avoid this dualism they brought in something which, like the deus ex machina of their drama, should arbitrarily cut the knot. As¬ suming that from the supreme being there emanated potencies or forces, it was by means of these that the god (or God) worked upon and influenced the world without being di¬ rectly an agent or suffering contamination. These assembled potencies the Greeks termed Logos. Here was the Christians’ hope, here was a symbol, an illustration—though not a definition—of the mission and work of Jesus. The fourth gospel opens with this figure, “In the beginning was the Logos.” What Greek philosophers had sought, that Christianity taught—a mediator, and this not an abstract principle but a living personality. Were Jesus to come to our land and age— ON RECONCILIATION 21 and were they to seek for an illustration of the fulness of Jesus’ mission and of his abso¬ lute devotion to that mission, they would search for some figure familiar to us, drawn from the life about us. Possibly no better picture could be found than that of the Mis¬ sionary, who in obedience to a conviction of duty leaves home, friends, future, comfort, even the bare necessities of life and in the midst of perils from a deadly climate, wild beasts, venomous serpents, and fierce canni¬ bals seeks to call men back to God. Finally, it may be, he dies at the hands of the savages he sought to save. This is not a definition, but perhaps no better example can be found in our modern life of the fulness and earnestness of Jesus’ mission. From the mediaeval conception has come down the word “atonement.” From Jerome to the Reformation the Vulgate ruled the Western Church. In this translation occurs the word “poenitentia,” penance, of which 22 A WORKING BASIS the base is the word “poena,” i. e. punishment, expiation. In the old English version oc¬ curred the word “atonement,” which word also came to convey the sense of expiation, of removing the burden of the guilt by penance or suffering. But if we trace this word back to its source, we find it not the trisyllable, a- tone-ment, but in reality a compound word, thus, at-one-ment, i. e. a state of harmony or of reconciliation. We find additional light in an experience of Luther. Luther had sought in the Witten¬ berg library for further light. In a copy of the Greek Testament he looked up the crucial passages and there found not the Latin idea of penance but the Greek word “Metanoia,” change of mind, change of purpose. Here, then, was the solution. The Christian life meant a new, a changed life, a “right-about- face” in conduct. This was the coming to birth in Luther’s mind of the new order, and the religious reformation in Germany really ON RECONCILIATION 23 began. It would be interesting to know whether Jesus uttered on this problem any word that will bring simplicity. This we find in the three parables of the lost articles,—the lost coin, the lost sheep and the lost son. These three stories, each an advance on the preced¬ ing, bear a common message, but by reason of their varied selection appeal to a larger circle and by reason of their common teach¬ ing enforce the lesson taught. A certain sheik had two sons. As was le¬ gally his privilege the younger son asked for a division of the estate. With misgivings the father complied, and the boy now in posses¬ sion started out to achieve his fortune. At the outset all went well. The hearty, easy¬ going, rich young man found plenty of friends—such friends, most of them, as are al¬ ways ready to gather like buzzards wherever there is promise of selfish advantage. Finally, hard times came. It may be that famine, 24 A WORKING BASIS drought, a raid of brigands, or any of the misfortunes to which Oriental life is subject, was added to profligacy. The rich young man went broke. Shabby clothing banned his erstwhile friends, and gaunt hunger drove him out to find work. He, the son of a leader of Israel, must now seek work, and he found it at the hand of a Gentile drover, and the man he despised for his race, sent the youth to tend swine, the beast among animals most held in abhorrence by the Jew. But the rich young man had no trade or profession, no money, no friends. He accepted the job. It was poor hire. He could not earn enough to eat, and his clothing ill in keeping with his work grew each day more shabby. Having ample time and no company he mused. Mem¬ ory stayed with him. He recalled the picture of his happy life in his father’s home. At last in his want and misery he resolved to go home and ask his father for work, for, said he, my father’s hired men have enough and ON RECONCILIATION 25 to spare. As he neared the old home and fa¬ miliar landmarks met his eye, the returning prodigal began to plan for the meeting. Even his plea was a part of his concern: “Father, I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight. I am no more worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants. But Providence had planned otherwise. In the gateway of the old homestead for many a day the father had sat, as was the custom in Israel, to receive the greetings of the passers- by and to pass in judgment on such disputes as might be brought before him. And for many a day he had been thinking of that son and how it fared with him. His own experi¬ ence had taught him the possible exigencies of life and he may well have divined the boy’s lot. No doubt, many a homeless wanderer enjoyed hospitality at the old father’s hand in memory of the boy and with a father s prayer that if in want the boy might find favor in some one’s eyes. 26 A WORKING BASIS At last the boy is nearing home. The hour for the meeting is drawing near. Fearful of the reception, the boy hesitates. The father catches sight of the approaching figure. The halting confession is checked by the father’s greetings: “This is my son who was lost, and is found; who was dead and, is alive again.” The best the house afforded was none too good. The protest of the elder brother gives a finishing touch to the picture. “All that I have is thine.” Forgiveness could not re¬ store squandered health or wealth, but for¬ giveness is a reality. There is no angry father, no penance. The son sins and as a result suffers: he repents and returns. The father hopes, expects, awaits, forgives, and receives again a wayward but repentant boy. Even in his sin he was constant¬ ly an object of his father’s love and neither adversity nor his own unworthiness could take him out of the family. “This, my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and ON RECONCILIATION 27 is found.” Similarly the scientist with wealth of learn¬ ing, the reward of his efforts now well before him, turns aside from glowing prospects and a glowing career, to devote himself to determ¬ ining the germ of some fell disease, to die, it may be, a victim of that same disease. The spirit of the Nazarene inspired them all, and all afforded a spectacle of self-sacrificing devotion. Throughout change and divers interpreta¬ tions fact abides. Sin, or whatever it may be, is destroying. The path of the regenerate is the same back-track, and the earlier the trans¬ formation, the larger the margin of life and the positive result to be achieved. Far better, however, than a life redeemed is a life pre¬ served from its very inception from whatever debases. This, however, is an ideal. We are all but miniatures of what we might have been. ON IMMORTALITY *^Hence in a season of calm weather Though inland far we he, Our souls have sight of that immortal Which brought us hither, Can in a moment travel thither. And see the children sport upon the shore. And hear the mighty waves rolling evermore — Wordsworth. ^When that which drew from out the boundless deep turns again homeJ^ — Tennyson. ^^As for life hereafter, I know little or nothing about it; but that is not of any great importance, because I want it, whatever it is.'* — Grenfell. \ ON IMMORTALITY P ROBABLY no questions have more generally engaged man’s mind, caused deeper concern or inspired with greaterhope than those that have to do with his destiny and with what may yet await him after that great change we call death. “If a mighty man die, will he live again?” queries Israel’s sage. “What is life? asks the Saxon king. “Life,” answers the wise man, “is as when a sparrow flits from the cold into the light and warmth of the room but for a moment, and out again into the storm.” And the Apostle, seeking to com¬ fort the baffled Corinthians, says, “That which thou sowest is not quickened except it die.” It is just to inquire first into the nature of what we are seeking and to make sure of a few fundamental propositions. It is 31 32 A WORKING BASIS crude to think of body and soul as separate entities: they are not to be thought of in their separateness. Physical body is not a recepta¬ cle nor is soul something to be contained. Life is the manifestation of personality, which me¬ dium may change with conditions and envi¬ ronment. Life is the manifestation of self, of an individual personality under forms adapt¬ ed to existing needs. Body and soul, space and time are convenient terms like pounds and dollars, suited to our finite convenience, for the barter of our minds. Physical death is not the terminal of our existence anymore than is day or night: it is not a finality but a change in mode. This corruptible must put on incor¬ ruption, i. e. what is immortal must become clothed in deathlessness,—which is only picturing forth of the change in nature under the likeness of changed apparel and the re¬ sulting change in appearance. Eternal life, then, is the persistence and identity of the in¬ dividual self* ON IMMORTALITY 33 Whence, then, the idea of a physical resur¬ rection in Christianity. Judaism looked for¬ ward to a golden age, “Ha-Olam Hab-ba.” This restored state was practically a revival under divine guidance of the glory of the an¬ cient kingdom and that, too, within the bounds of the homeland. The pious Jew, though he died in foreign lands, was thus re¬ stored to the land of his fathers. Such a res¬ urrection was physical, and that by virtue of the possession of a physical body. Born of Jewish parentage, swaddled in the garb of Jewish thinking, Christianity could not whol¬ ly escape Jewish influence. Even before the close of the first century Christian thought was clarifying itself. The “grain of wheat” that fell into the ground was the symbol of the advanced thinking of the early Church, remaining in the ground yet appearing above transformed and multiplied. Leaders of the Christian community were catching a new glimpse of the truth—not of resurrection but 34 A WORKING BASIS of immortality. With this view of the problem it is in place to inquire into the nature of the evidence. Truth may be demonstrable, as scientific or mathematical, or cumulative and probable. Even demonstrable proof is an uncertain quantity. Science is a statement of phenom¬ ena as they appear to us: the increased wis¬ dom of to-morrow will render different the things which now appear, and our apprehen¬ sions of facts, of realities, will need to give place to a larger and more nearly perfect un¬ derstanding of things. Much of our knowl¬ edge, our certainty, rests on probable proof. There is a probability of events, to doubt which would do violence to our better selves. Should one object that in matters of so great moment as religion there must be more, and more convincing, argument, let such a one bear in mind that it does not necessarily fol¬ low that the weightier subject demands more evidence but rather the more jealous consid- ON IMMORTALITY 35 eratlon and more scrupulous use of the evi¬ dence we have. Faith is at the basis of all evidence, at the foundation of every phase of life. And faith is reasonable. It is not blind credence, but living up to the best that is in us. The as¬ tronomer who night after night turns his glass to that quarter of the heavens where signs indicate the presence of an unknown star, and the navigator turning the prow of his vessel westward to lands never seen but to which he is urged by reasons to him in¬ controvertible, are both acting on faith. Con¬ fidence, on which commerce and trade are founded, is only a mode of faith. Demonstrable proof is still unavailable. Science has no direct proof to offer. Psychol¬ ogy has failed to find a soul. Life seems in¬ terrelated with organism, intelligence with complexity of organization, and weakness and mental decay with arrested growth or even the stoppage of the blood to brain and the 3^ A WORKING BASIS higher nerve centres. However, this may be an accompaniment: the complex may not cause the higher intellectuality. No avenue has been found to a spirit-world: mediums have not yet convinced: death-bed scenes comfort but do not prove nor indeed are they always consistent. Again, the “permanence of species” does not preserve the individual, which transient emerges from and is again merged in the universal. The silence of science is not to be construed as a negative argument. Immortality is not a datum of the sensuous world: it lies without the realm of material things. And at all events the opposite, the death of soul, is not and can¬ not be proved. “I believe in the Immortality of the soul,” says John Fiske, “not in the sense in which I believe in the demonstrable truths of science, but as a supreme act of faith in the reasonableness of God’s work.” But science has found a hint which like a broken strand suggests things hereafter. Evo- ON IMMORTALITY 37 lution has found in men the acme of creation gradually becoming more perfect. On the brink of the grave we ask, Is this all? Is life a shattered pillar to crumble to dust? Has creative purpose wrought thus far only to be overwhelmed with defeat? Progress so glor¬ iously begun under natural laws must find its continuity in the spiritual world. Evolution suggests something more to be evolved. We leave the world of demonstrable truth with a promising hint and without finding an argu¬ ment against our craving for immortality. The changing character of science, the enlarg¬ ing boundaries, may yet yield evidence on sub¬ jects thus far beyond its ken. Consensus of opinion has ever been in fav¬ or of the immortality of the soul. The fact that erroneous doctrines endure is evidence of a morsel of truth that has somewhere entered into their composition. All tribes and peoples have held in some form or other to the per¬ petuity of the self. The shadowy dream- 38 A WORKING BASIS world of the savage where he roams and hunts with his companions and friends long dead; the Hindoo’s Nirvana that merged in¬ dividuals into the whole and thus preserved the species though not the units; the fathom¬ less mystery of Egypt with the huge pyramids embellished within with painted fancies; the shadowy Sheol of the Hebrews; and the teachings of Greece from the uncertain realm of Hades to the Elysian fields of Homer, all attest the universality and intensity of a con¬ viction which will not be gainsaid. Christianity combined the mystic splendor of Greek speculation with the moral signifi¬ cance of the Jewish system. It was Chris¬ tianity that first gave real moral significance to the thought. The records that underlie the story of Jesus are credible. The features that seem foreign to our Western way of thinking are the ear-marks of historicity certifying to the professed dates and habitat of the writings. They represent the recog- ON IMMORTALITY 39 nized and acknowledged characteristics of the great literary group of which they are a part. In the details we are not concerned. The great and indeed only essential is this, that a scattered, hiding, disheartened band of fugi¬ tives came to a conviction, became aware of the continued existence and identity—it mat¬ ters not in what form—of their fallen leader. These same fugitives were transformed by their experience into a conquering force, which, within three centuries, in an era of cul¬ ture, learning, and acute philosophical specu¬ lation, established a recognized religion for the civilized world. Years after the event Paul could say, “He was seen by upward of five hundred at once, many of whom are alive to this day.” If ever Paul’s statement was challenged, the shrewdest and bitterest of the opponents of Christianity failed to take note of it. A rational philosophical basis is possible. “That will last forever which on account of 40 A WORKING BASIS its excellence and its spirit must be an abiding part of the universe; what lacks that preserv¬ ing worth will perish.” “My life as a casual system of physical and psychical processes, which lies spread out in time between the dates of my birth and of my death, will come to an end with my last breath; to continue it, to make it go on till the earth falls into the sun, or a billion times longer, would be with¬ out any value, as that kind of life which is nothing but the mechanical occurrence of phy¬ siological and psychological phenomena has as such no ultimate value for me or for you or for anyone at any time . But my real life as a system of interrelated will-attitudes has nothing before or after, because it is beyond time. It is independent of birth and death, because it cannot be related to the biological events; it is born and will not die; it is immor¬ tal; all possible thinkable time is enclosed in it; it is eternal.” Deeper than philosophy even is the aggre- ON IMMORTALITY 41 gate force of human desire, expectancy, and longing, which very desire is prophetic. There is a validity of human instinct. There is a value, legitimacy in the Poet’s vision, in the realm of imagination,—as legitimate as the thinking of the scientist. The calm trust, too, with which the good man faces death bears conviction. There is no boast; there may be no visions; there may be even a dread of change, a longing for physical life, but there is a calm trust born of conviction. These are all as legitimate as the province of num¬ bers or the realm of scientific occurrence. He who is so widely versed in his own field as to have described its borders, says naught against worlds into which his own studies have not taken him. At most he is silent. All human effort points to immortality. Im¬ mortality is essential to the complete under¬ standing of human life; the moral order of the universe demands it. In every age live a few prophetic spirits, yet even these cannot 42 A WORKING BASIS fully impart themselves. Coleridge could not recall his verses: Beethoven could not express the harmonies he had heard. Indeed we all see and feel what we can never realize in this world; we have our prophetic moments, high levels on which we here live only as transients. Hopes and aspirations unrealized here, and choice spirits cut off before their time must find their fullest meaning in the Hereafter. Science leaves us a hopeful suggestion; his¬ tory stoutly affirms; philosophy declares its reasonableness, and ethics the necessity of a satisfaction for this craving—the reality of immortality. Nor is it a new state to be entered into in connection with that phenomenon called phy¬ sical death. He who is in the way is as im¬ mortal now as any change could make him. Eternal life may begin here, and here may be only the forecourt of hereafter. ON CONSCIENCE '^The Spirit of Man is the lamp of Yahweh, Searching all the chambers of the SoulJ^ — Psalms. ^7 have considered my ways And turned unto Thy testimonies'' — Proverbs. I r ON CONSCIENCE T hese words of the Sage, “Lamp of Yahweh,” have in the popular mind become identified with the conscience of man. Conscience has come to be a tangible somewhat serving as a sort of oracle wherefrom responses may be elicited as to the ordering of life. The lan¬ guage, an illustration merely, has been mis¬ taken for a definition. Yet man is an integer. The old terms, intellect, sensibilities, will, are no longer to be tolerated even as fictions. And when terms are mistaken for verities confu¬ sion reigns. The word “Conscience” bears on the face of it the true meaning. There is implied a knowledge of one’s self, a sense of one’s mor¬ al whereabouts. In practical wise Conscience is not an entity but a mode of action. Con¬ sidered as a mode of conduct, three steps seem 45 46 A WORKING BASIS determinable,—judgment, decision, action. A prerequisite to moral action is a judg¬ ment, and prerequisite to judgment is knowl¬ edge. A moral act based on a judgment at¬ tained through incorrect information must of necessity be faulty however pure the intent. Consequences unforseen, erroneous conclu¬ sions may easily work harm. Narrow vision, prejudice, indiscretion, impulsiveness, even passion may distort judgment. Only evil can result. The fault here is not moral: it is of the intellect. However, it is none the less a fault, and as such injurious. Conscience, what¬ ever else it may be, is moral and not culpable for intellectual failings. The step just de¬ scribed is not moral, hence the issue is not with conscience. Again, a judgment without a decision is at best a passive thing. Decision may rest on one or more of several grounds, as personal advantage, sense of justice, regard for others. We verge here toward the moral rather than ON CONSCIENCE 47 toward the intellectual. Decision is the pow¬ er to choose an alternative, to adopt a mode of action. If, however, the will be to adopt a procedure seemingly right but based on evi¬ dence actually insufficient or erroneous, harm may result, but there can be no culpability, for culpability implies wilful rejection of a right and acceptance of a motive known to be wrong, and the motive here is presumably right. Further, an action is a realized decision and involves determination and the use of en¬ ergy. But culpability does not rest here: the moral phase rests on the underlying decision determining the action. Underlying infor¬ mation may be wrong, action may unwittingly be ill-timed, but culpability comes in the ren¬ dering of a wrong decision against available knowledge and wisdom. Conscience, finally, is not an entity, nor anything separate. It rests if correct on information, the intellect¬ ual; on decision, the will; and on purity of 48 A WORKING BASIS motive, the moral nature. And these three are themselves not separate and apart but phases. Conscience is the result of long growth and development, a matter of evolution. Once, long ago, there was no established body of ethics, no standards of procedure. Each did what was right in his own eyes: was a law to himself. Gradually there arose a settled cus¬ tom. A consensus of opinion was evolved, and along lines of conduct individuals were guided, or at least influenced, by precedent. In time society came to have an ethical code. Here is the germ of public opinion, of public conscience. To this each generation in turn adds an increment to the common ethical com sciousness. To each generation come new problems, new situations, occasions for new judgments. Resting on what has been handed down by those who have gone before, each generation works out current problems, forms new de- ON CONSCIENCE 49 terminations, and in turn hands on its stand¬ ards to succeeding times. As in nature so in morals there are reversals to earlier types or forms, but the trend is in general forward. The too widely prevalent popular notion of conscience traces back ultimately to a de¬ sire to be relieved of personal moral responsi¬ bility, to cast lots, to have the word of an ora¬ cle, to hear a “do this” or “thou shalt not.” The church once divided on the question of human infallibility. Those who protested sought refuge in an appeal to an infallible book. Today there are many and diverse opinions, but we, like children, still wish to be led. Nor has discussion left us empty-handed. Conscience though not a separate entity is still real—it is an eternal alertness. There are no compartments, the mind is a unit, person¬ ality is an integer. When comes the time of decision, the process is of a single, unitary agent—gathering and weighing information; 50 A WORKING BASIS determinating the wiser, safer policy; and choosing—and the last stage marks the cli¬ max while resting upon the other two. And yet all three are but phases of one, the per¬ son, the self. On this last as the only existent factor in the problem must rest the moral re¬ sponsibility. ON THE REASONABLENESS OF PRAYER There he problems in Heaven and in earth undreamed of in your philosophy, Ho¬ ratio T — Shakespeare. ''Ye ask, and receive not, because ye ask amiss, that ye may spend it in your pleasuresJ^ —Letter of James. 'The Mount of Transfiguration is the place of prayer: the object of prayer is prepa¬ ration for service! "Ein einziger, dankbarer Gedanke gen Himmel ist das volkommenste GebetH — Lessing. ON THE REASONABLENESS OF PRAYER H OW can prayer change the proce¬ dure of irrevocable law? How can the petition of an individual alter the destiny of society? Why should man pray to a God who knows better than we, what to give, and who is even more ready to give than we to ask? It is possible, by the way, to have too ex¬ alted a conception of Law. Too apt are we to endow a word with arms, legs, brain, and breath of life and to own it as our master. Truth is that what we have termed Law has no existence whatever, never caused anything nor wrought any work, and that it outdoes Proteus in variability. A law is simply a description, an expression of our experience up to date, the summing up of our observa¬ tion of some particular class or group of 53 54 A WORKING BASIS phenomena. To-morrow may add to the number of phenomena or complications to the process. Thus Evolution has been modified by Mutation, and the history of this great hypothesis has marked by its changes the de¬ velopment of scientific thinking in the field of biological science. It is possible we miss the true significance of prayer. To one, prayer is a means of prying open the windows of heaven; to another, a period of ecstasy; to another, the enrichment of the supplicant by putting him en rapport with the object of his adoration. In the form Jesus taught his disciples there is clearly none of the first; the prayer does not ascend to the heights of the second; and there is a this- worldness about it that all but excludes it from the third: 1— ^Adoration and thanksgiving. 2 — Divine supremacy. 3— Daily needs. 4 — F o rgi veness. REASONABLENESS OF PRAYER 55 5—Deliverance. It is clear that the established order of phe¬ nomena which we call law cannot be swerved, for the mind that guides the world shaped al¬ so the lines along which all things move. To swerve might involve catastrophe. What may seem the suspension of law is rather a remind¬ er that what we had come to regard as a law was founded on too narrow observation. We had apprehended but not comprehended. Ad¬ ditional embarrassment arises when men equally sincere seek conflicting solutions. Thus how could even infinite wisdom answer the petitions that went up from North and South for the outcome of the Civil War? Lincoln well said that neither prayer was fully answered and that the outcome was not entirely the one sought by any. We have from the standpoint of the individual sought the destinies of the many. Dwarfed by sel¬ fish desire, distorted by our partial view-point, our prayers, many of them, would wreck the A WORKING BASIS 56 world instead of promoting it. The broad view of the game is not the one gained by the small boy looking through a hole in the fence. From the foothills of finity there is no chance of viewing the broad vistas to be seen from the mountain-peaks of the Infinite. All our notions of time, space, before and after, heights and depths, and the like, are purely accidentals of our finite existence, and to pro¬ ject them upon our conceptions of God and his Universe is like the thinking of the He¬ brew sage who conceived God as resting with the coming of night or walking abroad in the cool of the day or regretting action already taken. There is a reflex action in prayer that af¬ fects the subject in quite another way. We find a suggestion in the prayer that Jesus taught. A man’s wealth rests not in the abundance of his goods but in the state of his mind. Contentment is more than wealth: enough more than abundance. Prayer places REASONABLENESS OF PRAYER 57 the suppliant en rapport with the divine and makes his will one and at one with God. This is not Stoicism: it does not endure, it exalts and transforms. It helped the Apostle to say that “in whatever state he found himself, therewith he could be content.” Longing to be with his churches he could yet make his misfortune the means for spreading the mes¬ sage to the Gentiles. This does not restrict prayer: it rather purifies. It does not rebuke zeal but rather heightens judgment. The ship enters the lock. The passenger on deck sees about him only the towering walls that shut him in. The boiling waters fill the chasm, the ship rises within its walls and the passenger gladly sees things anew from a higher standpoint and with enlarged horizon. The man with his elevation has been put in touch with a new world. Chastened prayer, the outpouring of soul-life born of experience, whether spoken or unexpressed, is, whatever else it may be, 58 A WORKING BASIS the exaltation of man till he is in touch with the Eternal. It took Israel long to realize that Yahweh did not dwell on Zion, that the altar with its burden of victims was not the sine qua non of acceptable worship, that the litany of robed priests was not essential. The Christian church has never quite gotten away from the feeling that certain forms and sym¬ bols and signs were the only receptacles wor¬ thy to contain the precious word. Why is not the holy life, the pure thought, the noble as¬ piration, or the unselfish deed a prayer? And why may not life throughout be a season of prayer, and the brief intervals we are wont to call prayer times rather of formal com¬ munion unifying with the will of God that of the worshipper. But can petition change the established order? There is indubitable se¬ quence and sequacity in the universe about us. Yet to limit divine action to a single unchange¬ able procedure is to put bounds to infinity. Many things to my mind the inevitable and REASONABLENESS OF PRAYER 59 the only are to a keener intellect but one among many. Where to my untutored vision no way appears, the trained eye sees a dozen paths. The skilled woodman threads his way through trackless forests and trails invisible. Logical thinking leads us to infinity: to limit infinity only contradicts our judgment. The real error is not one of philosophy but of ethics. Whence misfortune? Adversity and suffering often come only because of vio¬ lation of some sequence of cause and effect. Continuous gluttony and dissipation lead to disease and debility. God might provide an¬ other way out, but why should he? We ought to pray rather that we be led from evil doing than to be protected from its consequences. Recognizing Divine power and the injus¬ tice of its use in any but an impartial way in answer to short-sighted human petition, we see the chief end of prayer in the rendering of man’s will one with God, and in the mould¬ ing of man’s conduct, rather than in satisfying his desires. f f / > a, • ON THE SEAT OF AUTHORITY IN RELIGION ‘‘The Spirit Beareth Witness.” — Paul. ON THE SEAT OF AUTHORITY IN RELIGION T he problem in hand must be clear¬ ly determined before being ex¬ plored. Within what bounds does the question lie, and along what lines are we to move in its solution? That religion is a factor in our thinking life seems evident, and the fact that prejudice, hatred, war, and persecution have been involved in its behalf, though directed by wrong motives, urges its reality. As to where we are to look for this “Seat of Authority” in religion, the warrant for the religious sentiment, there is room for debate. We are traversing here an unknown land: the best we can do is by inference, following our best judgment. What is invisible we must undertake to state in terms of the visible. What we seek is by its nature unknowable 63 64 A WORKING BASIS save by inference. We do not see, we reason to conclusions. Human conduct may be viewed from with¬ out, inductively. Actions may be studied with reference to their results or consequences— those that eventuate well and those that re¬ sult ill. Further, the study on this side may be carried on historically, and present action may be guided by experience, experience of ourselves and of others. This is good but not sufficient. It may insure against relapse but cannot assure progress. There must have been a primary incentive, an original impulse to right action and thought. Whence and what this initiative? When attained, it is what we seek, the warrant for the religious impulse. We must distinguish here between the discernment of this incentive and its de¬ termination as right or wrong. The latter concerns our thought of conscience: the form¬ er concerns us here. Some have sought this principle in institu- AUTHORITY IN RELIGION 65 tions, creeds, and in collections of sacred writ¬ ings. These attest the fact; are they cause or result? The wavering of the mercury be¬ speaks a varying temperature, but does not cause it. In a sense there is light though no eye were to see it. Even if there were no list¬ ening ear, the tree falling would produce sound, if sound be expressed in terms of air waves. But for eye and ear, if absent, there could not be either. Among all peoples there has been what may uncritically be termed re¬ ligious instinct. This has found concrete ex¬ pressions, but these expressions, whether sac¬ rifice or cathedral service, simple credo or elaborate body of literature, are fruit rather than root: they constitute a criterion of judg¬ ment and, collectively, a standard of relative merit among alternative or competing sys¬ tems. We do not find in them, however, the raison d’etre, the “Seat of Authority in Re¬ ligion.” We leave the outer world, then, satisfied as 66 A WORKING BASIS to the reality of what we are seeking, though fully aware that it is not something possessed of material existence. The much sought prin¬ ciple cometh not by observation, it is within. Having gotten away from ideas of utility and conscience, and having determined on some principle within, we are left to set bounds to this our new field of search. Reason fails us as an avenue of approach, save in the exer¬ cise of judgment as to the sanity of our pro¬ cedure. We must enter the world of conjec¬ ture, or inference, proceeding not by a visible highway, but, as the sailor by the compass, by taking our bearings and making for a goal of whose existence we feel certain. And here we may observe that there is no conflict between reason and faith. These are not separate en¬ tities but phases of activity. Faith is loyalty to the best that is in us. It impels us to action in the direction given us by our best judgment. To walk toward a visible object is an act of faith in that it shows confidence in our senses. AUTHORITY IN RELIGION 67 7'o set out for a goal beyond our vision in¬ volves a larger exercise of faith or confidence. To set out to explore a world so thoroughly unknown and intangible as that of pure thought, is a sublime act of confidence, as much above the former as the faith of Co¬ lumbus was greater than that of the mariner today with proved chart to hand. It is rea¬ son that weighs pros and cons and marks the course. Faith impels man to action along the line thus laid down. Abraham as an act of faith sojourned in the land of promise. The process of reasoning whereby he became an emigrant is not related in the Bible story. In its own field, then, faith is not only le¬ gitimate, it is absolutely indispensable. With¬ out faith in some form the wheels of trade stop, the activities of life cease, and the pro¬ cesses of the thought life are at an end. Yet there are perils in the exercise of faith. There is danger, first of all, from mysticism, unclear thinking. In one age and another Mystics 68 A WORKING BASIS have helped progress. Despite seeming hazi¬ ness, though they may have seen but dimly, these pioneers were groping after something. Mysticism often has been a just recognition of the heart-life as over against barren domination of brain. But introspection, scrutiny of one’s self, like one’s intently gazing on some optical illusion, is apt to lose one in a hopeless maze. Nor can the bystander be dogmatic on the matter of personal experience. What he may not in any way perceive, as, for example, a coin in the closed hand, the possessor may be fully and rightly conscious of. The witness of the Spirit, that is the conviction of oneness with God, is not something tangible, never¬ theless it is a valid argument, not to be denied the holder so far as it concerns his own indi¬ vidual weal. The sum total of the world’s consciousness here constitutes a valid argument for the prin¬ ciple in question. The world as a whole is AUTHORITY IN RELIGION 69 not long deceived. Hunger implies food: hunger is for a purpose, and even famine does not invalidate the argument. The religious impulse is for a purpose, and no religion but has in it, despite any crudeness, the germ of right. Religions have ultimately triumphed, as history attests, by virtue of superior merit in themselves and by the sincere devotion of their votaries. Other evidence is cumulative, and on the principle of the summation of stimuli leads to sense of certainty. It is personal conviction, figuratively spoken of as a “voice within,” an attitude of our personality toward the matter in question that constitutes our final court of appeal, which though not independent from, yet constitutes, as the key-stone in the arch, the final and convincing proof. The abiding self! Science teaches us of constant change that spares naught. Yet, de¬ spite this accepted fact, we feel a sense of sameness as over against all possibilities of 70 A WORKING BASIS otherness—a sameness continuous through all. This we accept in all the pursuits of life and find that it works, that results follow. And in this same self abides that conviction that compels recognition though admitting the possibility of denial. The working basis changes: the working self abides. ON THE PERSON OF CHRIST ^^Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life^ Until I find a safer guide, a higher ideal concretely expressed, a life resting more fully on its merits, a force more vital in history, a teaching more simple and so more universal in its scope—until I find all this I shall follow the Nazarene. ON THE PERSON OF CHRIST HE fundamental problem in the Christian’s thinking may be summed up in the query as to the person of Christ. The difficulty lies in the fact that the investigation crosses two worlds. Just as we are well on our way we are abruptly halted by the bars of the finite. By the old system of deductive reasoning we started—by assuming—with a supernat¬ ural Being, duly personified and capitalized, which we accepted wholly on faith. This ma¬ jor premise having been granted all else fol¬ lowed. The difficulty here is that we assume what we set out to prove, and to a person not already convinced conviction does not neces¬ sarily follow. The truth is, the implications of the prob¬ lem pass beyond finite comprehension. We stand within the circle without and beyond 73 74 A WORKING BASIS which extends the mysteries of the unfath¬ omed world. From time to time the horizon recedes before some new discovery, neverthe¬ less there is still the unknown world which like the ancient ocean-stream hems in all known lands and for the present limits dis¬ covery. We can examine, collate, and arrive at conclusions. This is the scientific proce¬ dure, and only so can we here come to knowl¬ edge. The real value in this matter is not doctri¬ nal, but ethical and religious. The Christian world went to war for a diphthong, but whether ^^homoios^^ or ‘^homoiousios/^ can never be determined by finite minds nor does it matter whether it be so determined. As a matter of philosophical speculation it is well worth all the effort it costs to struggle with these problems. As a matter affecting the practical conduct of life these matters in no way concern us. Following the manner of the scientist, in questions baffling solution we ON THE PERSON OF CHRIST 75 simply collect our unsolved puzzles for the time when a chance ray of light may point the way. We do not become pessimistic, nor do we give up the search, nor do we lose hold on faith in the ultimate outcome. For practical purposes it is not what pre¬ ceded the advent of the Christ that counts, but what followed in its wake. Questions of preexistence, procession, priority are good for speculation. Signs and wonders are not unique to Christianity nor did Jesus himself lay great stress on them. It is the ethical and religious content of Jesus’ teaching that gives great and true significance. The setting is temporal, the symbolism belongs to a past age and to a people long since removed from their ancient conditions,—the husk is acci¬ dental, the truth set forth is eternal. The environment compels us not only to orient our thoughts: we must also Orientalize our¬ selves if we would understand the message aright. Thus wisely acted the earliest mis- 76 A WORKING BASIS sionaries to the West when they changed the figure from the sacrificial lamb to that of Lo¬ gos, a shibboleth in the Greek philosophy of the time. Of the Jesus of history we have valid rec¬ ords, such as could be accepted by critical thinking apropos of other historical charac¬ ters, and in the life of the early church wit¬ nesses multiply rapidly. The earliest evidence is that of Paul. These letters were followed by the three so-called Synoptic Gospels, and by the historical book of Acts which has no footing except in the fact of Jesus’ life and work. Later followed the fourth Gospel, a philosophical and interpretative rather than a historical treatise. All these documents so far from being formal apologetics or intend¬ ed for the general public, are strictly “inter nos” compositions for those already within the faith. This fact of their being uncon¬ scious historical material adds to their essen¬ tial value in these later times. ON THE PERSON OF CHRIST 77 Christianity abides by virtue of what hap¬ pened after rather than from what preceded the event. The stories of the last forty days bear witness to some more than ordinary ex¬ perience, an experience, indeed, that trans¬ formed a band of trembling fugitives into a conquering force. Christianity enjoyed no ad¬ vantages under the empire. Greek religion, Greek philosophy, and the Oriental cults were all opposed to Christianity. The outlook for the followers of Mithras was for a time brighter than for the disciples of the Naza- rene. The Galilean won not by reason of any interference human or divine but by force of his superior merit. Religions have ever gone down before higher types. The survival of the fittest holds here as elsewhere. The his¬ tory of Christianity, despite the wrongs done in its name, is its great apologetic. Chris¬ tianity knows no national boundaries, nor is it responsible for importation of vices into heathen lands though the offenders may have 78 A WORKING BASIS been citizens in Christian countries. The idea of immortality leads to the con¬ cluding question—Jesus as the Christ. Of the historic Jesus we are assured by a reason¬ able confidence in reliable records. Nor are we entitled by reason of the supreme import¬ ance of the matter to look for unusual and overwhelming evidence. Rather, it behooves us to give more earnest heed to the testimony now available. The question of the risen Christ is different. The story is told in Oriental, first century-style whose seeming crudities are the earmarks of its historicity. The fact remains. Again, Christianity en¬ tered a field wholly occupied, from mortal point of view enjoyed no favor or prestige, was rivaled by powerful and popular cults, and on its merit only, won its recognition. In the same way Christianity has held its own— because its basis is the most democratic, its procedure is the most simple, its ethics the most pure. The Galilean has won on his ON THE PERSON OF CHRIST 79 merit. It is not to prophecy we turn, for what happened far transcends any prediction. Nor is it to miracle, for miracles are by no means peculiar to Christian origins, indeed for spectacular effect the miracles of the Gos¬ pels seem tame in comparison. Christianity has transformed history, and repeated its wonderful work in millions of hearts and lives. Herein lies the marvel to be explained. Men are Christian not by peoples, countries, or groups, but by individuals. Christianity sent the missionary. The barrel of grog aboard the same steamer was sent by some other agency. Lands nominally Christian have not given greater sins to India, China, or Africa: they have added to them. These crimes are chargeable not to Christianity but to men who in Christian lands yet denied the Christian code. And in judging the sins of the past we must ever keep in mind contem¬ porary standards of mortals and recognize in our thinking the evolution of an ethical code. 8o A WORKING BASIS Christ is not an ancient form to shape or mis¬ shape our reason. We acknowledge Him as Master and follow Him for His merit and achievement. ON PROGRESSIVE REVELATION the old lamps are dim and pale, The stars are shining still; If shadows gather in the vale, The sun is on the hill. Truth still abides, God is not dead. And though old views depart, A loftier temple domes our head, A larger hope our heart!’ ^‘Beyond the printed page we seek Thee, Lord.” / i ■; . i' ■ ■ s ,i \ 1 . 1 , ‘ ' ■>> ■.s:,'^i-vi4 I -T . ON PROGRESSIVE REVELATION HE reply of Jesus to his disciples, “I have yet many things to say un¬ to you, but ye cannot bear them now,” attests a great truth. Wheth¬ er to nation or to individual, truth comes slowly. This is necessarily so, not that truth is changeable but because mind must undergo a gradual accommodation to fit itself for cap¬ able recipiency of truth. The topic in question is larger than is al¬ lowed by the books. It is not a problem of Holy Scripture merely, but one that touches our intellectual and spiritual life on every side. As in other fields so in this, quarrels are largely over words rather than things. We may begin with Archbishop Trench’s defini¬ tion: “God’s revelation of Himself is a draw¬ ing back of the veil or curtain which con¬ cealed Him from man; not man finding out 84 A WORKING BASIS God, but God discovering Himself to man.” Though a familiar phrasing, this statement is in a measure true and yet incomplete. Truth is not attained by the downward bending of realities, but by the elevation of the recipient. We need not become Pantheists to accept the doctrine of Divine Immanence and to see in every bush and stone and brook, in the lives and works of our fellows, as well as in a par¬ ticular body of writings, traces of the Infinite. We come to revelation by the unfolding of the mind: faith is the acceptance of and com¬ pliance with the light vouchsafed us, the ac¬ ceptance of the evidence most approved by our illumined judgment. We are ever being exalted to truth, so that truth is constantly be¬ ing viewed more and more in its reality, so that less and less we see men as trees walking. The Archbishop’s distinction is of his own making rather than a real one. The inquiry as to special revelation is to be answered in the same way; the process is the same. PROGRESSIVE REVELATION 85 We must first inquire of philosophy, the foundation of all sciences. Here we are on common ground, for whether or not we so will, we are all philosophers—good, bad or indifferent—for we are all concerned with the riddles of life. The history of philosophy is a history of mental progress. At times thought has seemed to stand still for a gener¬ ation or longer, and then within a life time ad¬ vance faster and farther than in a century previous. The several so-called clearing-up times, in Greek thought for example, were not death-throes but birth-struggles. What was a group of physical entities to the early physiologers, an “ever becoming” to Heracli¬ tus, “nous” to Anaxagoras, was plunged into philosophic chaos by skeptic and sophist. But even thence thought rose again, phoenix-like. Following in the footsteps of his master, Plato found his hope in the world of Ideas and Aristotle’s work was a practical applica¬ tion of that of Plato. Through it all thought 86 A WORKING BASIS was steadily advancing. No more interesting chapter in history can be found than the Alexandrian period when Greek and Oriental thought met, contended, and gradually merged. Throughout the history of thought each generation has left its deposit as surely as the overflowing Nile, enriching the soil and raising the level. Why must the histories, as Bancroft, Schouler, Mosheim, Neander, and others be displaced? Not only by reason of the accumulating material but also because of the changing view-point, not shifting but mov¬ ing on. Advancing thought compels restate¬ ment. Evolution, which has turned out to be some¬ thing quite other than what many expected, is now defined as “The sum of changes where¬ by things have come to be as they are.” Evo¬ lution is not a creative agency or the pedigree of the race, but another name for develop¬ ment, a record of a progressive series of mul¬ tiplying and diversifying forms, a series the PROGRESSIVE REVELATION 87 discovering mind must traverse in the inverse order. God is in and throughout His world and is discovered by the toiling mind that dil¬ igently seeks Him, whether in upturned ledge, the driving storm, the mysteries of life, or between the covers of Israel’s covenant. The various attempts at a graphic pre¬ sentation of the progress of revelation are at best pathetic. Distinctions of degree and kind, conjectures as to the gradual passing of revelation and the increasing dominance of reason like an entering wedge into the spirit¬ ual economy, and all similar mechanical de¬ vices are to be rigidly eschewed. It must be patent that the Infinite is not shut up to one mode of procedure, and that mode the one with which we are familiar, else He were no longer infinite. It does not follow that be¬ cause certain phenomena in Israel’s life are not repeated that revelation has ceased. Change may well be change in mode and not in substance. 88 A WORKING BASIS Instructive is the study of comparative re¬ ligions. The church has long since abandoned tne view-point of St. Augustine in whose “City of God” we have a wholesale arraign¬ ment of the religious beliefs and of the ethical teachers of Greece and Rome. We have learned to avoid odious comparisons and to see in the several faiths stages in men’s ap¬ prehension of God. The missionary in the foreign field is teaching us wisdom. Recog¬ nition of other faiths gives us warrant for the broad basis of religion, and this renders eas¬ ier by comparison the vindication of the claims of Christianity. It is not to Paul’s dis¬ advantage, for example, that some of the truths set forth by him may have been fore¬ shadowed by Plato. Things arc not true be¬ cause Paul said them: Paul said them because they were and are true. The bitter experiences through which Israel passed were not mere chance or accident. It did Israel good to come into contact with the cults of Canaan, PROGRESSIVE REVELATION 89 Persia, and Babylon, and to be forced into relations with the several national groups of the times. Israel’s religion was thereby grad¬ ually purged of dross. The Exile brought Israel into contact with Asiatic institutions other than their own, and the Greek conquest in the fourth century brought in Greek insti¬ tutions and influences. In such social and com¬ mercial intercourse there resulted a reciprocal influence. Israel and especially Judaism was aroused to greater mental activity; the habits of national stagnation were broken; uncon¬ sciously but surely new ideas were either borne in or stirred up in the life and thought of the people. The Old and New Testaments afford a splendid example of a gradual and a progres¬ sive revelation. Two points here must be borne in mind:—(i) In these records we have an expression of the manward side. They give man’s enlightened apprehension of Di¬ vine things. It has been said truly that God 90 A WORKING BASIS created man in His image and that man re¬ turned the compliment by creating God in his. Thus the apparent difficulty in the early books need not trouble us. We have no need to apologize for God. The crudities are due to the imperfections of men’s thinking at the time. It need not disturb us, for example, if the writer of the epistle to the Hebrews did not see the message in all the fullness of that of Paul. The Sermon on the Mount, a trust¬ worthy though brief account of the discourses of Jesus, gives us our nearest approach to the ethical content of the Gospel, yet to the last Jesus was forced to remind his closest fol¬ lowers of their imperfect vision. (2) We must bear in mind the true order of the ca¬ nonical books of the Old Testament. This order materially different from that found in our English versions, is that given to us by the Hebrews themselves, represents the oldest tradition and must be noted in all considera¬ tions of the development of Israel’s life and PROGRESSIVE REVELATION 91 thought. Likewise in the New Testament we must note carefully, so nearly as attainable, the or¬ der in which the several books were com¬ posed. Thus the first witness of the Christian Church is Paul and the Gospels are later, the Fourth Gospel probably among the last of the collection. Indeed, so late as the time of Eusebius, ca. 340 A. D., the canonical list of the New Testament books was still in dispute. (3) Note must be taken also of the char¬ acter of the books of the Old Testament. Thus, the so-called historical books were by their authors styled prophetic. They were didactic in spirit and purpose rather than his¬ torical or scientific. The great purpose of the Old Covenant is to admonish, exhort, and to emphasize the merciful dealings of God with men. The books of the New Testament are to be similarly considered. The Pauline letters are not formal epistles but familiar let¬ ters written to meet specific occasions. Hence 92 A WORKING BASIS logical structure even when it exists is purely subsidiary. Even the Gospels though they partake more of the historical character, are informal accounts composed for the good of the Christian community. They lack the lit¬ erary finish of the later Apologists whose mis¬ sion was to present the cause to the outside world. > A few examples will suffice for illustration. The book of Ruth, for example, a marvel in its breadth of view and in its tolerant attitude toward foreigners, fits without a jar into the scheme of the divine training of Israel. The son of an orthodox Jew marries a girl from a hated race, and this girl becomes a model of fidelity and finally appears as an ancestress of the royal line and even of the expected Mes¬ siah. The book of Jonah is no longer a fish story. The attitude of the writer toward Nineveh, Israel’s arch oppressor, marks a sublime attainment in the nation’s develop¬ ment, and more nearly than any other Old PROGRESSIVE REVELATION 93 Testament book approximates the ideals of the New. The language of Jesus, “For the hardness of your hearts Moses gave you these sayings, but I say unto you,” marks no formal repudiation of the old Covenant, no abroga¬ tion or repeal. The old garment when out¬ grown was gradually put off and the new one donned without struggle, as is always the case when there is life and vitality. The record of the Testaments is one of gradual growth. In the course of canonization our Biblical liter¬ ature underwent a sifting process. What in the course of time in the use of synagogue and church proved in experience to have most of spiritual nourishment, became canonical because of its superior fitness. In a sense the selection was artificial because the criterion was adaptedness to human needs. In another sense the selection was divine, for, as in nature we discover a divinity revealing itself, so in religious literatures, and especially in our Bi¬ blical writings, we recognize God revealing 94 A WORKING BASIS Himself, or at least being revealed, in an ad¬ vancing spiritual creation. Here is one con¬ ception of Paul, another of Hebrews, and an¬ other of the Johannine writers. Each sought faithfully to give to his fellows the vision as it stood revealed to him. It were better in¬ stead of fruitless endeavors at harmonizing, to seek in the resultant of all the foreshadow¬ ings at least of that which is real. What further steps there may be for us to take, is beyond our power to say,—what man is to be as the culmination of spiritual crea¬ tion. We must judge the future by the past. In the ancient records we trace an arc of that vast circle in whose completing process we al¬ ready divine the scheme of development. ON FAITH AND SCIENCE "Science is ■ trained and organ¬ ized common sense." — Huxley. "Science corrects the old creeds, sweeps away with every new perception our infantile catechisms, and necessitates a faith commen¬ surate with the grander orbits and universal laws which it discloses." —Emerson. r ON FAITH AND SCIENCE A CONSIDERABLE series of stories by prominent writers brings us to the problem—can the growing scientific spirit be recon¬ ciled with faith? The challenge of Allison Parr—“acceptance of authority is not faith” —drives Hodder to much heart searching and shifting of position. Theron Ware finds himself preaching “cautious and edifying doc¬ trinal discourses” to the regulars at the morn¬ ing service, and “to the evening as¬ semblages, made up for the larger part of outsiders, he addresses broadly liberal ser¬ mons, literary in form, and full of respectful allusions to modern science and the philoso¬ phy of the day.” But when he comes to a town where the faithful were ever present, the par¬ son’s woes began. The sharp questioning of Hope Farwell followed by the treachery of 97 98 A WORKING BASIS a fat, contented church drives Dan Matthews to seek a true ministry and to find it among the hills about his old home. Brought face to face with critical views on time honored dogmas, Robert Elsmere finds in life only a horrible nightmare and dies at last a victim of his intellectual struggle and anguish. Great as are these stories, their heroes get stuck in the bark. Caught in the letter they miss the spirit. They cannot see the forest for the trees, the city for the houses. It is possible to get one’s mental furniture so screwed to the floor that repairs cause dam¬ age. One of the virtues of a trained mind, theological or scientific, is a reasonable degree of mobility. We have first to consider the changing character of science. We are wont to capi¬ talize and to include within quotation marks and then to rest serene in terms, as “Science,” “Law,” “Electricity” or “Electrical Energy,” “Conservation,” “Inertia,” “Inertia is that ON FAITH AND SCIENCE 99 property of a body by virtue of which. And these titles are all means wherewith to label our ignorance. Our brief observation we summarize under a statement and call the same a law, or even “Law.” But a few more observations or deductions by a keener mind than ours have left our term and definition stranded high and dry in the dictionary. There is no more suggestive shelf in the sec¬ ond-hand store than that labeled Science. To Descartes the so-called pineal gland con¬ stituted the point of contact between mind and body; to another it is the “vestige of an aborted eye,” “a vestigial sense-organ.” The anatomist of today modestly declares that its function is unknown, and will even acknowl¬ edge that medicine is not yet an exact science. The history of such ideas as the circulation of the blood, the rotundity of the earth and its forward movement in the solar system is further exemplification. Evolution has been modified by mutation, and the nebular by the lOO A WORKING BASIS plantesimal hypothesis. From Comstock to the writers of the American Science Series is a far cry and enough to keep us humble. Again, we may ask, “What is faith?” We may begin by determining what it is not. And, first, it is not an immutable something; it is an attitude, as it were, of mind, an alert¬ ness and readiness with light baggage, as a minute-man, to move on. Further, it is not a concrete example of the acceptance of a spe¬ cific dogma or creed. It is not the mind or that on which the mind has settled, but the mode of action, an attitude of our thinking, and takes its rise in the fact of our thinking. It may be moral: it is also intellectual. Man is an integer, and whatever touches upon one phase of his personality concerns him entirely and throughout. Faith is loyalty to the best we know, the best that is within us. Faith is progressive and should grow more significant with years and wisdom. The prime difficulty is one of unsymmetri- ON FAITH AND SCIENCE loi cal development. The boy enters the Univer¬ sity with a boy’s knowledge of science, art, re¬ ligion. He leaves the University with a man’s idea of science, and art, but still with a boy’s idea of religion. Comparisons can not but be odious—by reason of unequal development, the result of unsymmetrical training. Knowl¬ edge added to faith broadens and deepens faith. Revelation is not merely a pouring some¬ thing into a receptacle. The receptive mind is not merely passive. As the mountain peaks reflect the glory of the rising day while dark¬ ness holds the intervening valleys, so revela¬ tion is for him who aspires, seeks, and strives. Revelation is not gratuitous but is granted as the price of endeavor. * s k i'»»