tihrary of Che t:heolo;gical ^tmimvy 
 
 PRINCETON • NEW JERSEY 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 The Estate of 
 Philip H. Waddell Smith 
 
 BV 1558 .C55 
 
 Christy, George H. 1837- 
 
 1909. 
 Sunday morning talks 
 
c 
 
\ \ 
 
L^oJl C-^yystZ 
 
 y 
 
Sunday Morning Talks 
 
 Prepared for 
 
 Bible Class No. 20 
 
 of the 
 
 Presbyterian Congregation 
 
 of 
 
 Sewickley, Pennsylvania 
 
 By 
 George H. Christy 
 
 Ubc iknlcfterbocfter press 
 
 New York 
 
 1912 
 
Copyright, 1912 
 
 BY 
 
 SARAH H. CHRISTY 
 
 tSbe Kniclierboclter |>re00. mew IBocfc 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 The following lessons were prepared by my 
 husband some time before his death, with the 
 intention of publishing them. But for reasons 
 that seemed good to himself this was not done 
 during his lifetime. 
 
 I now print them and send them to the mem- 
 bers of Bible Class No. 20, and to other friends of 
 my husband who valued the results of his study, 
 as a memorial of one who truly ''opened up the 
 Scriptures " for others. 
 
 May these pages bring him again before us, 
 refresh in our minds his long and earnest labors in 
 the faith that he so firmly held, and incline us all 
 more faithfully to heed his teachings. May we 
 follow him in so far as he followed "the Master" 
 whom he loved and served. 
 
 S. H. C. 
 
INTRODUCTORY 
 
 It is not a mere platitude nor a glittering 
 generality to vsay that no book in the world wiU 
 better repay careful, continuous, and devout 
 study than the Bible. This is as true as that two 
 and two make four. 
 
 No book was ever pubHshed before or since, 
 which gives or contains any one of the following 
 specifications : 
 
 1. More original and authentic history. 
 
 2. As many and as truthful biographies of the 
 men (and women too) who have made history. 
 
 3. As much original information concerning 
 the beginnings of things. 
 
 4. An equal delineation of the origin and 
 growth of nations and civilization. 
 
 5. A larger or finer collection of the folk-lore 
 of a remote antiquity. 
 
 6. As much clean, pure, and elegant prose 
 literature. 
 
 7. An equal amount and variety of highly 
 sublime poetry — dramatic, epic, and lyric, includ- 
 ing a wide range of old songs and ballads. 
 
 8. A better system of law. 
 
 9. A better code of morals. 
 
vi Introductory 
 
 10. More incentives to clean thoughts, honest 
 lives, and upright business dealings. 
 
 11. A better exposition of the equal rights of 
 all men. 
 
 12. A better system of religion. 
 
 13. A better plan by which to make saints out 
 of sinners, and good citizens out of all men. 
 
 14. A better knowledge of eternal life and how 
 to attain it. 
 
 15. A better scheme for the regeneration of 
 the world and the redemption of humanity. 
 
 16. More original research that would with- 
 stand reasonable, intelligent, and scholarly critic- 
 ism. 
 
 While the Bible is not, and does not profess to be, 
 a scientific book, its science is quite as correct as 
 much that was taught in the schools of Christen- 
 dom when the writer was a boy, and perhaps as 
 correct as a good deal that is taught yet. 
 
 But the Bible has its defects; namely: (i) It 
 says very little about theology; (2) less about 
 church organization and government; (3) less yet 
 about church ritual and forms of worship; (4) 
 still less about creeds. Probably the writers of 
 the Bible did not regard these as matters of much 
 importance. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 
 
 
 Jesus of Nazareth, I . 
 
 
 
 , , 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I 
 
 Jesus OF Nazareth, II . 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 15 
 
 The Writings of Paul 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 28 
 
 Paul's Gospel 
 
 
 
 • 
 
 45 
 
 A Japhetic Gospel 
 
 
 
 • 
 
 59 
 
 Paul and the Empire . 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 69 
 
 Acts of the Apostles, I 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 80 
 
 Acts of the Apostles, II 
 
 
 
 • 
 
 95 
 
 John's Gospel 
 
 
 
 • 
 
 116 
 
 Peter 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 130 
 
 The Resurrection; The 
 Messianic Prophecy 
 
 Future 
 
 State; 
 
 ■ 143 
 
 Protestantism 
 
 
 . 
 
 . 
 
 . 157 
 
 Lost Beliefs 
 
 
 • 
 
 . 
 
 . 173 
 
 Revelation. 
 
 
 . 
 
 . 
 
 . 190 
 
 A Future Life . 
 
 
 , 
 
 , 
 
 . 215 
 
viii Contents 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Satan 
 
 . 231 
 
 Sin 
 
 . 240 
 
 Three Ancient Traditions . 
 
 . 247 
 
 Some Penalties and a Promise . 
 
 . 262 
 
 The Story of the Creation 
 
 . 269 
 
 Biblical Revision 
 
 . 278 
 
 Index 
 
 . 289 
 
Sunday Morning Talks 
 
Sunday Morning Talks 
 
 JESUS OF NAZARETH 
 I 
 
 The divinity of our Saviour is a subject I would 
 not undertake to discuss. I accept it as a matter 
 of faith, and accordingly believe it, but I do not 
 understand it. How it could be ''manifested in 
 the flesh," was a "great mystery" even to a man 
 of the giant intellect and high spirituality of Paul 
 (I. Tim. iii., i6). He made no effort to explain it. 
 Neither does John who simply records it as a 
 fact (John i., 14). What neither Paul nor John 
 could explain, the rest of us may as well pass by. 
 
 But I think I can, at least in a feeble sort of way, 
 understand His human side or element: what He 
 was as a man among men ; living and talking with 
 them in daily unrestrained intercourse; healing 
 their sick whenever opportunity offered ; sympathiz- 
 ing in their troubles; feeding them when out of 
 reach of a normal suppty of food ; undergoing their 
 privations; poor in purse as the poorest of them, 
 
Jesus of Nazareth 
 
 more homeless than any of them; friendless Him- 
 self except as He made friends — and these, 
 gathered from the poor and the illiterate, were 
 largely composed of the outcasts of society, the 
 publicans of one sex and the harlots of the other; 
 and all considered as unfit to be numbered with 
 himianity (John vii., 49) — hated, reviled, and 
 hounded to death by the orthodox clergy of the 
 church of which He was a sincere and consistent 
 member, even while He was teaching by word and 
 illustrating in His life a holy and perfect standard 
 of living and doing; and finally put to death at 
 their instance on a criminal charge which they 
 knew to be false, and, as his sole reward, meeting 
 death in its most painful and ignominious form. 
 I think I can, at least partially, understand a life 
 of that kind. To a limited extent, I can also 
 tmderstand His resurrection. To my apprehen- 
 sion, the restoration of life is no more of a mystery 
 than its original beginning — in fact, less of a 
 mystery under our present system of psychology, 
 which, however, may be all wrong. The number 
 and amount of the things that we think we know 
 but do not know cannot be reckoned. 
 
 Though bom of royal blood, Jesus-ben- Mary 
 was brought up in comparative poverty, and, so 
 far as is known, with only such a limited education 
 as was then within the reach of every Jewish boy 
 of the peasant class (verse 15). The place of His 
 reputed nativity was obscure (John i., 46). His 
 home province, Galilee, only himg on the ragged 
 
Jesus of Nazareth 
 
 edge of respectability (John vii., 52); and his 
 occupation, while not disreputable, barred Him 
 from admission to the inner circle of either social 
 or church life (Matt, xiii., 55). Though it is 
 occasionally alluded to, it seems that no considera- 
 tion was ever paid to His royal descent, nor does 
 He ever speak of it as constituting any support for 
 his claims. Up to the age of thirty years, He was 
 apparently as obscure an individual — that is, in 
 respect of public fame or notoriety — as could have 
 been found in the ranks of the Jewish peasantry 
 "from Dan to Beersheba. " The episode of 
 Luke ii., 41-51, had during the intervening eighteen 
 years evidently been forgotten by everybody 
 except Himself and His mother, and even she did 
 not understand its significance. To the aged and 
 venerable rabbis of the temple He was nothing but 
 a precocious youth whom, in His absence, they 
 would soon forget, much as the present generation 
 has forgotten the "Boy Preacher," or "Blind 
 Tom," the musician of thirty years ago. 
 
 The news of the great revival inaugurated by 
 his remote cousin, John the Baptist, down in the 
 Jordan valley, reached His ears in the out-of-the- 
 way village of Nazareth. John's revival methods 
 corresponded somewhat closely with those of the 
 modem camp-meeting. Whether Jesus, when He 
 joined the crowds that flocked to John's baptism, 
 was actuated by any other motives than those 
 which dominated them, or by the same motives 
 as lead modem believers to the excitements and 
 
Jesus of Nazareth 
 
 experiences of camp-meeting life, can only be a 
 matter of surmise. 
 
 That John was personally acquainted with 
 Jesus is at least highly probable, if not positively 
 certain. John was fully satisfied of his own in- 
 capacity to carry on his revival work to perfect 
 results; and he at once announced Jesus as his 
 divinely appointed successor, and as one who 
 could do and would do what it was useless for him, 
 John, to attempt (Luke iii. , 1 6, 1 7) . By a ceremony 
 of his own, not wholly unknown in Judaism, but 
 in John's hands invested with a new meaning, he 
 called Jesus out of the obscurity which had charac- 
 terized His life as the son of a village carpenter, and 
 ordained and consecrated Him as not only the 
 leader of our sinful humanity through all the after 
 ages, but also as the active and, as we are taught 
 and believe, the successful agent in its final re- 
 demption. 
 
 That Jesus heard and heeded this call, was no 
 more than we should expect. The idea of the 
 fatherhood of God and the sonship of His people, 
 though never up to that time made prominent, 
 was not entirely new to Jewish thought (Ex. iv., 
 22, 23; Ps. ii., 7), and this idea had been appre- 
 hended by Him in a practical sense quite early in 
 life (Luke ii., 49). But with this call, and the 
 descent of the Holy Spirit upon Him (Luke iii., 22), 
 there seems to have been bom in His inmost 
 consciousness the apprehension that He was now 
 the Son of God in a sense never yet experienced 
 
Jesus of Nazareth 
 
 by any son of Adam — and so uniquely and pre- 
 eminently a Son of the Most High that He was 
 thereby fitted and qualified to undertake and 
 accomplish the work which, though it had then 
 been in progress for some two or three thousand 
 years, yet had produced comparatively little 
 result — the work of saving our lost humanity 
 from the results of the fall. That He thought it 
 out in this particular form, cannot of course be 
 affirmed, for He says but little as to His own claims. 
 
 Modesty is always a characteristic of genuine 
 greatness; and Jesus of Nazareth was the most 
 modest of our race. Accordingly, He rarely 
 speaks of His past, and we are left to infer His 
 original plans and purposes largely from His life 
 and its results. Whether at His first call He was 
 conscious of His own Messiahship, nowhere ap- 
 pears, for He makes no such claim until near 
 the end of His life. "My works," He says, 
 "bear witness of me" (John x., 25). Thus He 
 followed the same rule that He laid down for us: 
 "By their frmts ye shall known them" (Matt. 
 vii., 20). 
 
 But if He was to save the race, how should 
 He acqmre that supreme, or at least dominant, 
 control over men which would enable Him to do it? 
 It was the most natural thing in the world that 
 before answering this question, even to Himself, 
 He should take a little time in seclusion, away from 
 the haunts of men, to consider it (Mark i., 13). 
 It took Paul three years (Gal. i., 17, 18) and Moses 
 
Jesus of Nazareth 
 
 forty years (Acts vii., 30) to solve a somewhat 
 similar problem. Should He do it by proclaiming 
 Himself the son of David, by gathering an army, 
 by war and conquest, by restoring the glories of 
 the old Davidic kingdom, by dazzling the nations 
 with the wealth and magnificence of the court of 
 Solomon (Luke iv., 5-8)? 
 
 Such a course would have been in strict accord 
 with Old Testament prophecy as then generally 
 understood in the higher circles of Judaism, and 
 probably He had been so taught in His youth. 
 The scheme looked plausible and seductive on its 
 face. It would appeal strongly to the political 
 pride and religious fanaticism of the entire Jewish 
 people, and it seemed to have the divine promises 
 back of it. But it was promptly rejected. The 
 race will never be saved by the gospel of force or 
 the gospel of wealth — a fact which it would be well 
 for the present generation to learn, and learn 
 thoroughly. 
 
 Or, should He astound, dazzle, and overawe 
 the concourse of worshippers in the holy temple 
 by suddenly and unexpectedly soaring down to 
 them as if from heaven, and as if borne upon the 
 wings of a host of invisible angels, and thus 
 demand recognition and acceptance as a messen- 
 ger direct from the presence of the great Jehovah 
 their king (Luke iv., 9, 10)? The scriptures 
 which He and the people alike believed, furnished 
 ample authority for such a course. But a specta- 
 cular display was then, and still is, a poor basis for 
 
Jesus of Nazareth 
 
 a permanent moral or religious reformation. This 
 plan also was rejected. 
 
 But if He must pursue a course wherein e very- 
 means of violence, either offensive or defensive, 
 was denied Him; a course in which the use of 
 personal wealth and luxury as moral and reforma- 
 tory agents was prohibited ; a career that should be 
 marked by an utter absence of those spectacular 
 shows which produce a feeling of awe and lead 
 captive the imagination; might He not still use 
 His miraculous power at least to supply His 
 necessary wants, and to strengthen and recuperate 
 His exhausted energies, while laboring assiduously 
 in the self-den^dng work that lay before Him (Luke 
 iv., 2-4)? 
 
 But in that case, we ''miserable sinners" would 
 have said: *'0h, yes, it is easy enough for Him to 
 be good; give us the power to work miracles to 
 satisfy our wants and relieve our sufferings, and 
 we too, will be good." The race is not to be 
 redeemed in that way. The author of Hebrews 
 ii., 10, understood the point perfectly. 
 
 But — and it must be admitted with deep regret 
 — the Holy Catholic Church has yielded to the 
 temptations which its great Leader thus resisted 
 and overcame. The Christian nations of the 
 present day deem it no dishonor, but rather the 
 reverse, to extend a Christian civiHzation by the 
 barbarities of war, and also, by the same means, 
 to open up new avenues for the spread of the 
 gospel of the Prince of Peace. Gorgeous cathe- 
 
Jesus of Nazareth 
 
 drals and ornate rituals are employed to overawe 
 the imagination and dazzle the senses. The best 
 of our laymen practise, and many of them pubHcly 
 advocate, the gospel of wealth and luxury. We 
 all would work miracles if we could, to relieve our 
 lazy bodies from the necessity of healthy labor. 
 And, what is perhaps worse yet (Luke xxiii., 31), 
 the highest and hoHest of our clergy are eager in 
 their violation of one of the clearest of our Saviour's 
 commands (Matt, xxiii., 7, 8), so that they may 
 be called Doctors (D.D.) of a Divinity which few of 
 them understand, and Doctors (LL.D.) of Laws 
 which fewer yet know anything about (Luke 
 xviii., 8). 
 
 The earthly life of oiu* Saviour, as I understand 
 it, involved three great crises : first, the temptation; 
 second, the crucifixion ; and third, the resurrection. 
 But for the first and its results, His work would 
 have been directed in wrong channels, and would 
 have resulted in practical failure; but for the 
 second, it would not have been completed; and 
 but for the third. His claim to be divine could not 
 have been vindicated. No man could assuredly 
 save the race until it was demonstrated that he 
 possessed or carried with him a power superior to 
 that of agencies working for its destruction. When 
 this was done, as it was done b}^ His resurrection, 
 in that it was a triumph over death, then and 
 thereby the salvation of humanity, though its 
 completion might be distant, was at last made 
 certain. 
 
Jesus of Nazareth 
 
 By the results of the temptation, the road was 
 marked out along which He was to travel in doing 
 His appointed work. It was to Him a lonesome 
 road, for the homes thereon that made Him 
 genuinely welcome were few and far apart. One 
 was at Capernaum in Galilee (Matt, viii., 14); 
 another was at Bethany, a few miles from Jerusa- 
 lem (John xii., i). If there were any others, the 
 record does not mention them (Luke ix., 58). 
 The open and avowed friends He usually met with 
 on that road were not of the kind that you or I 
 would readily select or highly prize. They were, 
 for the most part, the social outcasts of Judaism, 
 like publicans and harlots ; the impure and miser- 
 able victims of vice and disease, such as lepers and 
 maniacs; men in the agonies of epilepsy, or in the 
 helplessness of locomotor ataxia; men that were 
 blind and men that were deformed. Write a list 
 of human diseases — the diseases of vice as well as 
 those of misfortune — catalogue their victims as 
 found in Palestine a.d. 30-33, and you will include 
 nearly all those on whose friendship He could 
 count during His public ministry. Only two men 
 of rank in the entire nation ever conceived 
 for Him even a friendly regard, Nicodemus the 
 rabbi, and Joseph of Arimathasa, a wealthy 
 member of the Sanhedrin (John xix., 38, 39). 
 But their friendship was secret, and practically 
 did Him no good. He would have been as well 
 off without it. 
 
 With these two exceptions. He had to face the 
 
10 Jesus of Nazareth 
 
 active hostility of the entire Jewish hierarchy — a 
 hostility which was deep-seated, implacable, and 
 deadly. While Pharisee and Sadducee cordially 
 hated each other, they united with equal cordiality 
 in a vindictive hatred of Him. Every agency 
 that the leaders of the church and the leaders of 
 society could devise was put into operation to 
 undermine His authority with the common people 
 and destroy His influence. The}^ m.aligned Him, 
 and His Mother also, by the implied charge that 
 He was a bastard (John viii., 41). They caused 
 the report to go out that He was an emissary of 
 Beelzebub, the supposed "prince of the devils" 
 and author of demoniacal possession, and there- 
 fore to be shunned as our New England ancestors 
 shunned a witch (Matt, xii., 24). When, to save 
 sinners who were in dire need of salvation, He 
 sought to win them to Himself, the leaders of 
 religious thought stood aloof and pointed the 
 finger of scorn — called Him a glutton in appetite, 
 a toper in drink, and willingly intimate with those 
 with whom no reputable Jew would allow himself 
 to associate (Matt, xi., 19). Under treacherous 
 professions of high regard, they submitted the 
 much-disputed question: Could they, consistently 
 with their religious duty, willingly pay taxes to 
 a heathen government (Matt, xxii., 17)? If He 
 said ''Yes," He would, in popular apprehension, 
 be disloyal to Judaism and a traitor to the true 
 interests of the nation; if He said ''No, " He would 
 be guilty of treason to the emperor. With like 
 
Jesus of Nazareth 1 1 
 
 malignant skill and equal hypocrisy, they asked 
 Him: Should the Mosaic law of death by ston- 
 ing (which had long before passed into disuse) 
 be now enforced against this woman, taken in 
 the act (John viii., 3-5)? If He said ''Yes," 
 public opinion, long accustomed to look with 
 complacency on such derelictions, would call Him 
 cruel; if He said ''No," He would be contro- 
 verting a law of Moses — a crime only slightly 
 less heinous in their estimation than that of 
 blasphemy. 
 
 So virulent was this hostility, that early in His 
 ministry He was driven out of Judaea, and there- 
 after His visits to Jerusalem were few and short. 
 Even in Jerusalem He was safe from violence 
 only because, as He retained the confidence of the 
 common people. His persecutors feared that His 
 arrest would lead to a riot (Matt, xxvi., 5; Luke 
 xxii., 2); and with a garrison of Roman soldiers 
 close at hand, riots were dangerous. Retiring 
 to Galilee, He gathered about Him a httle group 
 of disciples (learners), and for some time carried 
 on His work with marvelous success (Matt, iv., 
 23-25). The news reached Jerusalem, and His 
 enemies were again on His trail (Mark iii., 22; 
 vii., i). Leaving then the immediate locality 
 where the influences of orthodox Judaism were 
 dominant, He thereafter spent the greater portion 
 of His Hfe in the border-lands of heathenism — in 
 Gaulanitis, to the eastward of the Sea of Galilee 
 (Mark v., i ; viii., 10) ; in the borders of Tyre and 
 
12 Jesus of Nazareth 
 
 Sidon (Mark vii., 24) and Caesarea Philippi 
 (Mark viii., 2']) away to the north; and in Peraea, 
 east of the Jordan (John x., 40) ; but making a tour 
 now and then among the villages of Galilee (Matt. 
 ix., 35; Mark ix., 30; Lukeix., 6), and also attend- 
 ing the passover feasts at Jerusalem, as the Mosaic 
 law required. But whenever He appeared in 
 Jerusalem the old persecution was renewed. It 
 was finally determined that He must be put to 
 death (John vii., i), for in no other way could 
 they silence Him or stop the progress of His work. 
 No secrecy was preserved as to their plans (verse 
 25). Officers were sent to arrest Him while He 
 taught in the temple (verse 45), but they were 
 completely overawed by the sublimity with which 
 He spoke (verse 46). The treachery of Judas 
 finally enabled them to accomplish their purpose, 
 and within a few hours the Roman soldiers were 
 nailing Him to the cross. 
 
 Whether Jesus, at the end of the temptation, 
 when He saw marked out for Him (or when He 
 marked out for Himself) the road He must travel 
 in order to save our fallen race — whether He 
 then saw^ the accursed cross at the farther end of 
 the road, is not stated. But for John iii., 14, 15, 
 I should infer that He did not — that is, unless 
 Omniscience aided His human vision. According 
 to the first three Gospels, the first clear intimation 
 He gives that He foresaw His tragic fate was made 
 at or near Cassarea Philippi (Matt, xvi., 21), after 
 He had been driven out of Gahlee, and not far 
 
Jesus of Nazareth 13 
 
 from the middle of His pubHc ministry. So 
 startling was the revelation to His disciples that all 
 three of the synoptists put it down (Matt, xvi., 21 ; 
 Mark viii., 31; Luke ix., 22). Certainly then, if 
 not earHer, He knew His journey's end, for the 
 logic of events pointed to His death as the only 
 possible outcome. To his vision it was clear as 
 the noonday, and He so predicted. But the 
 grandeur and sublimity of His character, and, I 
 might add. His divinity as well, are amply attested 
 by the fact that neither then nor thereafter did He 
 hesitate a step in His appointed journey, or seek 
 a less dangerous pathway. At the end of the 
 temptation. He put his hand to the plow, and 
 thereafter He never looked back (Luke ix., 62). 
 Herein rests our assurance of ultimate salvation. 
 Once only, near the end of the journey, when the 
 awful cup was pressed upon Him, and in the 
 immediate realization of the terrible sufferings it 
 involved. He expressed the wish that it might be 
 otherwise (Matt, xxvi., 39); but it was only a 
 transitory wish wnmg from Him in the hour of 
 His deep agony, and has no significance except as 
 it enables us faintly to measure the weight of the 
 load of grief He then had to carr}^ — and He carried 
 it to the final end. 
 
 "Surely He hath borne our griefs, 
 And carried our sorrows; 
 He was wounded for our transgressions, 
 He was bruised for our iniquities : 
 
14 Jesus of Nazareth 
 
 The chastisement of our peace was upon Him ; 
 And with His stripes we are healed. 
 And Jehovah hath laid on Him the iniquity of us 
 all." 
 
JESUS OF NAZARETH 
 II 
 
 "Whence hath this man this wisdom?" — Matt, xiii., 54. 
 
 The Messianic hope or expectation, at the be- 
 ginning of the Christian era, existed in various 
 forms. More commonly it was expected that the 
 Messiah would be bom, not of an obscure and 
 distant offshoot of the Davidic Hne, but of some 
 branch of recognized pedigree, good rank, and 
 high standing; that he would reoccupy the throne 
 of David, making Jerusalem his capital; that as a 
 temporal king he would recruit and remuster the 
 armies of Israel, expel the hated Romans, and by 
 military conquest subjugate the Gentiles even 
 imto the ends of the earth ; that as a spiritual king 
 he would convert to the true and eternal religion 
 of Jehovah such of them as would yield to the 
 power of His word; and that all others He would 
 destroy by ''the sword of his mouth. " 
 
 This form of the Messianic expectation is 
 embodied in the song of the annunciation (Luke 
 i-> 32, 33), as well as in the song of Zacharias 
 (verses 67-75). I^ was also the basis of one of the 
 temptations presented to Jesus before He entered 
 
 15 
 
1 6 Jesus of Nazareth 
 
 on His public ministry (Matt, iv., 8, 9). So 
 dominant was it in Jewish thought that the popu- 
 lace were once on the point of putting it into 
 execution (John vi., 15). Nearly a century later 
 the same idea so permeated the mind of the writer 
 of the Apocalypse that in one of his visions he 
 delineated the Son of man as a mounted and 
 crowned warrior-king leading the armies of heaven, 
 invested with a rod of iron wherewith to rule the 
 nations and with the sword of his mouth for 
 vengeance (Rev. xix., 11-16). 
 
 Another form or embodiment of the Messianic 
 expectation was based on the promise of Mai. iv., 
 5, 6, which, being literally construed, was thought 
 to predict the personal reappearance of the prophet 
 Elijah. This idea figures prominently in the 
 Gospels, as in John i., 21; Luke ix., 8, 19; Matt, 
 xvii., II. And under a third form, as noted in 
 some of the same passages, it was expected that 
 some person, usually designated as "a prophet," 
 but whose name was not certainly known, would 
 appear to make good the ancient prediction of 
 Deut. xviii., 15. 
 
 But Jesus, during His public ministry, never 
 made any effort to conform to any of these expec- 
 tations. As has been frequently remarked, He 
 was an enigma to His own generation. He did 
 not, at least until late in His ministry, announce 
 Himself as being anybody in particular — just the 
 "Son of man" which phrase, whatever it may 
 mean now, was at that time merely an impressive 
 
Jesus of Nazareth 17 
 
 individual designation as in Ezek. ii., i, 3; iii., i, 3, 
 4, etc. Instead of declaring Himself to be this or 
 that (as humbugs do) He simply talked and did, 
 resting His claims solely on His works. Conse- 
 quently everybody was nonplussed as to what to 
 make of Him. But one thing was clear; He pos- 
 sessed a surprising wealth of knowledge, and in the 
 use of that knowledge He taught as one who held 
 authority from Heaven to proclaim the verities 
 of life and immortality, and not as the scribes 
 taught, by retailing the barren pueriHties 
 of Talmudic casuistry (Matt, vii., 29). As He 
 was a man without education (John vii., 15), 
 that is, had not attended any of the rabbinic 
 schools, or as we should say to-day, was not a 
 graduate of any college or theological seminary, 
 the common people or peasantry who listened 
 to the wonderful and exhaustless outflow of His 
 intellectual and spiritual wealth, very naturally 
 asked where it all came from, where He, "the 
 carpenter's son," of the obscure village of Nazareth, 
 could have learned it all. 
 
 One of the most prominent of His characteris- 
 tics — and one of the most charming as well — was 
 His love of Nature in all her varied moods. He 
 was a close observer, and the abundance of His 
 observation gave Him a marvelous wealth of 
 illustration. When he told how "the rain de- 
 scended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, " 
 and on the hillsides of Galilee washed away the 
 house of one peasant and left another standing 
 
1 8 Jesus of Nazareth 
 
 (Matt, vii., 24-27), He only described what He 
 had seen. To enforce a moral, He reminded His 
 hearers that men do not "gather grapes of thorns 
 nor figs of thistles" (Matt, vii., 16). While giv- 
 ing an outdoor talk, He taught them the loving 
 care of the Father by pointing to the birds flying 
 about overhead: "they sow not, neither do they 
 reap, nor gather into barns; and your heavenly 
 Father feedeth them" (Matt, vi., 26). 
 
 Again, "the lilies of the field, " probably growing 
 near where He stood, illustrated another lesson, 
 of profit to them and equally so to us (verse 28), 
 He had watched, too, the sower who "went forth 
 to sow" (Matt, xiii., 3-8), and had noted how the 
 birds picked up some of the seeds scattered "by 
 the wayside"; how the semitropical sun scorched 
 and withered some of the growing shoots of grain 
 on a thin surface-soil; how the thorns choked the 
 growth of others; and how such seeds as fell on 
 fertile soil grew and ripened into an abundant 
 harvest. The foxes in their burrows and the birds 
 in their nests illustrated by contrast His own 
 homelessness (Matt, viii., 20). The wolf, in His 
 thought, typified "man's inhumanity to man," 
 and among such. His followers should be "wise as 
 serpents, and harmless as doves" (Matt, x., 16). 
 A gift to one of them, of "a cup of cold water," 
 would receive its reward (verse 42). 
 
 He drew lessons of profit from the swaying in 
 the wind of the tall rushes that grew in the marshes 
 down by the Jordan (Matt, xi., 7) ; from the single 
 
Jesus of Nazareth 19 
 
 sheep that constituted the little wealth of a 
 peasant, and which fell into a pit (Matt, xii., 11); 
 and from the single sheep that strayed away from 
 the flock and was lost (Matt, xviii., 12). He had 
 known of some vindictive enemy who had mali- 
 ciously spoiled the growing crop of a thrifty 
 neighbor (Matt, xiii., 25), and the outcome il- 
 lustrated the leading events of the final judgment. 
 The sky of to-day told what the weather of to- 
 morrow would be (Matt, xvi., 2, 3); and the 
 budding of the fig-tree betokened that the summer 
 was near (Mark xiii., 28). The evening breeze, 
 unknown as to "whence it cometh, and whither it 
 goeth," was utilized to teach to Nicodemus the 
 lesson of the new birth (John iii., 8); and Jacob's 
 well gave Him a text for a lesson on immortality 
 in His talk with the woman of Samaria (John iv., 
 13, 14). A field of ripened grain suggested a har- 
 vest ''imto life eternal" (verses 35, 36)— a harvest 
 in which "the reapers are the angels" (Matt, xiii., 
 
 39). 
 
 In the realm of nature He knew all that there 
 was to be known; and He was equally familiar 
 with the usages and laws of business and govern- 
 ment. The owner of real estate was the lawful 
 owner of lost or concealed plunder foimd therein 
 (verse 44). He knew the pearl- trade as well as 
 the pearl- traders themselves (verses 45, 46); 
 and He imderstood the fisherman's occupation as 
 if it were His own (verses 47, 48), and a shepherd's 
 life equally well (John x., 1-14)- The parable 
 
20 Jesus of Nazareth 
 
 of the talents (Matt, xxv., 14-30) indicates his 
 familiarity with the banking business of His day. 
 The employment of laborers and payment of 
 wages (Matt, xx., 1-16), the renting of land and 
 payment in kind, as well as the dishonest trans- 
 actions sometimes incident thereto (Luke xvi., 
 1-8), were all as famiHar to Him as if He had been 
 the wealthiest landlord in all Galilee. 
 
 The law as to the division of estates by inheri- 
 tance underlay the parable of the prodigal son 
 (Luke XV., 11-32); while the general corruption of 
 the magistrates of his day — and we have some of 
 that kind yet — is briefly but graphically sketched 
 in that parable of the unjust judge (Luke xviii., 
 1-5). Without experience, or even observation, 
 of the usages of royal courts or the laws of war, 
 He discoursed of both with no display of ignorance 
 (Matt, xxii., 1-14; Luke vii., 25; xiv., 31, 32; xix., 
 11-27). He was apparently well versed in the 
 political relations of the nation, and in the laws 
 of taxation, both of the church and the state 
 (Matt, xvii., 24-27; xxii., 17-21). He had ob- 
 served the usual methods of litigation in the petty 
 courts of the provinces (Matt, v., 25, 26); knew 
 of the barbarous penology of His time (Matt. 
 xviii., 34) ; and showed at His trial that He was as 
 well informed in the rules and practice of Jewish 
 criminal law as were His chief judges, Annas and 
 Caiaphas of the high priesthood. 
 
 Proofs of His perfect familiarity with the 
 Jewish scriptures, with the past history of the 
 
Jesus of Nazareth 21 
 
 nation, with its kings and priests and prophets, 
 with its religion and its lack of religion as well, with 
 its decayed morals, its degenerate formalism, its 
 bigoted hypocrisy and almost total corruption, 
 are found on nearly every page of the Gospel 
 records. He not only knew it all, but He knew it 
 better than anybody else, for He gave to most of 
 it a meaning never thought of before, and so sim- 
 ple and obvious a meaning that His statement 
 on any subject went for a demonstration. He 
 rarely made any effort to prove the truth of what 
 He said, for it was so obviously true that no one 
 could question or deny it. The best-trained and 
 most skilful casuists of His day could do nothing 
 with Him (Matt, xxii., 15-40); and hostile attacks 
 by the learned rabbis of the temple were equally 
 barren of anticipated results (Mark xi., 27-33). 
 It will be noted that I am now dealing only with 
 those elements or incidents of Jesus' life that 
 illustrate the wealth and extent of His knowledge 
 in respect to strictly mimdane affairs. For my 
 present purpose, I leave out of consideration that 
 part of His life and career by which He brought 
 salvation to our race. Regarding Him strictly 
 as a man among men, His supremacy stands out 
 perhaps most markedly in His intuitive knowledge 
 of men. Here, with possibly a single exception, 
 He never made a mistake. His quick and accurate 
 discernment of human character, especially noted 
 in John ii., 23-25, is one of the most striking 
 featiu*es of His entire life. 
 
22 Jesus of Nazareth 
 
 Even at the beginning of His ministry, when the 
 Pharisaic branch of the Jewish church, through 
 Nicodemus, its leading ''teacher," sought to 
 inveigle the young and rising rabbi into their 
 camp. He saw through the scheme in an instant, 
 and dexterously held Himself aloof (John iii., 1-15). 
 Though often hypocritically approached with 
 words of apparently extravagant praise, as in 
 Matthew xxii., 16, or, as once happened, for private 
 and selfish ends, as in Luke xii., 13, never in any 
 such case did He fail to "size up" the person or to 
 fathom his secret purpose. No man ever caught 
 Him off guard or used Him or His influence for 
 improper ends. On the other hand, no honest 
 and worthy appeal was ever refused through a 
 suspected doubt of the honesty of the applicant. 
 No masking of hypocrisy ever withstood His 
 scrutiny; nor did a modest garb ever obscure to 
 His \dsion the genuineness of the honesty that 
 lay behind. 
 
 In intimating as above that Jesus was once 
 possibly deceived in His estimate of men, I had in 
 mind His selection of Judas Iscariot as one of his 
 intimate and trusted friends. Whether He was 
 really deceived is a question that I cannot answer. 
 According to John, He was not, but knew from the 
 first what kind of man Judas was (John vi., 64). 
 But Jesus' own first denunciation of Judas (verse 
 70) reads to me much as if He then spoke with a 
 feeling of anger or else of disappointment, or 
 possibly both ; as though He had found out, either 
 
Jesus of Nazareth 23 
 
 then or quite recently, how seriously and sadly 
 He had previously overestimated the man. No 
 commentator, with whose work I am familiar, 
 gives a satisfactory explanation of this discrepancy. 
 Some try to do it, and, though believing that 
 they succeed, actually fail; others try, and give 
 it up; still others pass ^it by and say nothing 
 about it. 
 
 Jesus was also singularly happy in the framing 
 and speaking of short, crisp, pithy sayings of the 
 kind that we call proverbs. The Gospels are full 
 of them. For example : 
 
 ''Judge not, that ye be not judged." 
 *'No man can serve two masters." 
 ''By their fruits ye shall know them." 
 "The workman is worthy of his meat." 
 "Sufficient imto the day is the evil thereof." 
 "If the salt have lost its savor, wherewith shall 
 it be salted?" 
 
 "A city set on a hill cannot be hid. " 
 "Let the dead bury their dead." 
 "They that are whole have no need of a 
 physician." 
 
 "A disciple is not above his master, nor a servant 
 above his lord. " 
 
 "If the blind lead the blind, both shall fall into 
 the ditch." 
 
 " Many are called, but few chosen. " 
 "Strain at a gnat, and swallow a camel." 
 "Wheresoever the carcass is, there will the eagles 
 be gathered together." 
 
24 Jesus of Nazareth 
 
 ''Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth 
 speaketh." 
 
 "The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.'* 
 
 These are only a few of a multitude of Hke kind ; 
 and I have refrained from citing any of the more 
 numerous class which relate to His work of bring- 
 ing "life and immortality to light." That in 
 them all He fully justified the popular verdict 
 (John vii., 46), cannot be gainsaid. But where 
 or how did He learn or acquire it all? "Whence 
 hath this man this wisdom?" 
 
 I was brought up in the belief that His superi- 
 ority, even in the matters thus enumerated, was a 
 product of the divinity that dwelt in Him; and 
 such, I believe, is the generally accepted view 
 among His Trinitarian followers. But this view 
 has no Biblical support, unless it be in the passage 
 from John already quoted (vi., 64); while from 
 what Luke says (ii., 52) I should infer that he was 
 of the opposite opinion. As to the relationship 
 of His divine nature to His human mentality and 
 spirituality — that is, as to how far or in what way 
 the two were united or blended and coworked — 
 we have no information whatever. He tells us 
 nothing about it Himself; and Paul, who knew 
 more of Him than anybody else, admits that he 
 knew nothing — the "mystery" was too great even 
 for His comprehension (I. Tim. iii., 16). And if 
 Paul did not understand it, I prefer to regard 
 Jesus of Nazareth not only as the manifestation 
 of the Father's glory (Heb. i., 3), but also as be- 
 
Jesus of Nazareth 25 
 
 ing the very perfection of humanity, physically, 
 mentally, and spiritually, and as showing to all 
 the members of humanity what it was possible 
 for them to become. 
 
 Direct divine intervention in human ajffairs, 
 either by miracles or otherwise, is not to be pre- 
 sumed where it is not revealed, and where the 
 facts do not require it. So far as I can see, there 
 is no reason why we should feel compelled to 
 assume that when Jesus was dealing with strictly 
 mimdane affairs He must have exercised or called 
 to His aid any trait, faculty, or knowledge that 
 did not belong to Him as a man. That He 
 possessed transcendant genius, superior powers of 
 observation, marvelous aptitude in the acquisi- 
 tion of knowledge, both of men and things, and 
 equally marvelous aptitude in clearness, brevity, 
 force, and originality of expression, may safely 
 be affirmed. That in all these respects He excelled 
 every other man that ever lived, may be regarded 
 as equally clear. Why, then, must we argue or 
 conclude that, in respect of gifts that belong to 
 himianity at large (though, of course, in a less 
 degree). His divinity must have been called into 
 exercise at all? Possibly it was, but what is our 
 authority for making it an article of faith? We 
 call Shakespeare a genius ; and notwithstanding his 
 humble birth, his lack of education, and his some- 
 what ignoble employment, we are astonished at 
 the extent of his knowledge, and his originality 
 and grace of expression. But does Shakespeare 
 
26 Jesus of Nazareth 
 
 mark the utmost limit of possible human attain- 
 ment? Must we say of Jesus of Nazareth that He 
 excelled Shakespeare only because He was divine, 
 and called on His divinity to eke out the supposed 
 deficiencies of His humanity? I do not so read 
 the Gospels, nor do I so understand the facts. 
 If "it behooved Him in all things to be made 
 like unto His brethren" (Heb. ii., 17), I do not see 
 how we can avoid the conclusion that in respect to 
 the traits I have above sketched, He was like unto 
 us (except in degree), and enjoyed divine aid as, 
 and only as, every other son of Adam may enjoy 
 the same aid. And herein, as it seems to me, lies 
 the assurance of the final redemption of our race. 
 A man is more helpful than an angel ; or, at least, in 
 an emergency in which I need help, I would prefer 
 the aid of a brother man. Angels may be very good 
 and very useful in their place, but I do not under- 
 stand them. A man, I do understand; and it is 
 the manhood, or, if you prefer, the humanity, of 
 the ''man, Jesus Christ" (Rom. v., 15) that ap- 
 peals especially to me as one of the very cogent 
 factors in the work that He came to do. And if 
 that manhood, or humanity, is as large, as mani- 
 fold, as all-embracing, and as sympathetic as the 
 Gospels appear to indicate, may not His devout 
 followers rest confidently in the assurance that, 
 humbly and faithfully following Him day by day, 
 they will, through His grace, ultimately come to 
 "be like Him" — when they "shall see Him even 
 as He is"? (I. John iii., 2). 
 
Jesus of Nazareth 27 
 
 So far as my reading has gone, Paul appears to 
 be the original author of the above-quoted phrase, 
 the ''man, Jesus Christ." To all appearances, 
 he used it advisedly and with a purpose; and the 
 argument of Romans v. is based on its correct- 
 ness. Of course, Paul's orthodoxy in what he 
 thus says cannot be called in question; but if any 
 Trinitarian scholar of the last fifteen hundred years 
 had said it, and if Paul had not said it, a fairly 
 good-sized door wt>uld have been opened for a 
 charge of heresy. Our church in its maintenance 
 of the deity of Christ has failed to emphasize 
 adequately His human personality and manhood 
 as efficient factors in the regeneration of the race. 
 This "ought ye to have done, and not to leave the 
 other undone" (Luke xi., 42). 
 
THE WRITINGS OF PAUL 
 
 It is undoubtedly a fact that, take it by and 
 large, the average lay member of the church gets 
 comparatively little direct spiritual benefit from the 
 writings of Paul, although as a matter of duty, he 
 may read them now and then in a perfunctory sort 
 of way. By direct benefit I mean that which 
 comes or ought to come from the perusal or study 
 of the writings themselves, as distinguished from 
 what we hear from the pulpit or read in the 
 commentaries. And by spiritual benefit I mean 
 that peculiar benefit which edifies, which builds 
 up a holy character, as a house is built from crude 
 materials into a structure perfectly adapted for 
 its purposes, and which makes men and women 
 better to-day than they were yesterday, better 
 this year than last year. This is what "edify" 
 means — to build up into an edifice; and edifica- 
 tion is the process of building up. Preaching or 
 Biblical study that does not result in edification, 
 the building up of character, the making of perfect 
 and pure lives, fails of its chief purpose. 
 
 And it is equally true that Paul intended to 
 write for the edification of his readers. He 
 undoubtedly knew what he was writing about; 
 
 28 
 
The Writings of Paul 29 
 
 and his natural ability, his training, and the spirit- 
 ual power that rested in him, were amply sufficient 
 to qualify him for doing what he thus intended, 
 and for doing it well. In his own particular field 
 he was a master workman. 
 
 Why is it, then, that Paul's writings are un- 
 popular with laymen for general devotional 
 reading? We go to them freely for purposes of 
 theological controversy; but with the exception of 
 a few passages such as that on the Lord's Supper 
 (I. Cor. xi., 23-28), or that on charity (I. Cor. 
 xiii.), or that on the resurrection (I. Cor. xv., 
 35-57), we are likely in our devotional reading 
 to give Paul the go-by and turn preferably to 
 the Gospels or the Psalms. Why is this? 
 
 In the first place, we have learned to think of 
 Paul chiefly as a theologian, and this has led us to 
 approach the study or perusal of his writings from 
 a wrong point of view. Paul cared nothing for 
 theology as theology. If he had been asked whether 
 he was a Calvinist or an Arminian, he probably 
 would have replied that he did n't know ; or 
 perhaps that he was both; or possibly that, in 
 view of his anxiety to carry the Gospel of salvation 
 to the Gentiles, he did not care even to consider 
 the question: I. Corinthians iii. reads very much 
 that way. When he says (Phil, ii., 12, 13), "work 
 out your own salvation with fear and trembling," 
 he talks much like an Arminian; but when he 
 immediately adds ''for it is God who worketh in 
 you both to will and to work, for His good 
 
30 The Writings of Paul 
 
 pleasure," he clearly occupies Calvinistic ground. 
 In order to get a clear and correct understand- 
 ing of what Paul meant, we must learn to look at 
 and construe his writings from his own particular 
 point of view. He took facts as he found them, and 
 put down or narrated the facts as he saw them. 
 From the standpoint of a pioneer in the work of 
 Christian missions, he looked out over the great 
 fields of heathenism, which then included (except 
 Palestine) the entire known world ; took knowledge 
 of the seeds of vice, impurity, and corruption 
 which were almost universally sown thereon, and 
 also observed the morally rotten harvests that 
 followed. He tells us of those harvests and of 
 what they consisted (Gal. v., 19-21). Is it any 
 wonder that in describing the world of heathenism 
 as he saw it, and particularly when he contrasted 
 its moral vileness with the fruits of a Christian 
 Hfe (verse 22), he should have used words and 
 terms that smack strongly of what we now call 
 *' total depravity"? You or I in his position 
 would have done the same, for truth required it. 
 The heathen world as a mass was at that time 
 totally depraved, and a truthful description of the 
 extent and depth of its depravity exhausted the 
 capacity in that direction of the language in which 
 he wrote. True, certain of the more cultiu*ed lead- 
 ers of Greek and Roman thought had elaborated 
 and given to the world systems or codes of 
 morals, some of which closely approximated that 
 of Jesus of Nazareth. But they rested for their 
 
The Writings of Paul 31 
 
 binding force or obligation, not, as in Christianity, 
 on any law of self-denying love, but only on a 
 non-obvious self-interest, or at the best on an 
 asserted public good — considerations that took 
 hold of only an individual here and there, and not 
 of the great majority. Consequently society at 
 large remained and continued to be as vile and 
 corrupt as if a code of morals had been an unknown 
 thing. Paul so observed it and so described it. 
 
 Now, from Paul's description of ancient 
 heathendom we have deduced the theological 
 dogma of "total depravity, " applying it to modem 
 Christendom. What he declared to be true of 
 Gentile life and society as they existed in his day, 
 we, by our creeds, have declared to be true as 
 applied to our modem life — to our next-door 
 neighbor, whose "walk and conversation" are as 
 tmexceptionable as our own. Nor am I denying 
 now the truth of our creed. It may be that this 
 next-door neighbor, that our nearest and dearest 
 relative, and even we ourselves are totally de- 
 praved; but we do injustice to Paul when we set 
 his writings to prove that fact. For Paul was not 
 writing with any reference to such a condition as 
 that of the very largely Christianized civilization 
 of the present day, but rather was describing the 
 almost universally prevalent heathenism of his 
 own day. In other words, he was not stating a 
 dogmatic theory, but narrating a practical fact, 
 or a series of such facts, as they then existed. 
 
 And why did he thus narrate them? Simply to 
 
32 The Writings of Paul 
 
 lead His readers away from the vile usages of 
 heathenism, and to persuade them to the practice 
 of certain other things which were ''true" and 
 ' ' honorable ' ' and ' ' just ' ' and ' ' pure ' ' and ' ' lovely ' ' 
 and ''of good report" (Phil, iv., 8). To make 
 men of this kind out of the poor and ignorant 
 converts from the slums of heathenism (Rom. i., 
 28-32) was his purpose and his only purpose. The 
 formulation of a system of theology nowhere 
 appears in his writings to have been any part of 
 his plan. 
 
 We go equally astray in assuming that Paul 
 meant to formulate and teach any doctrine of 
 election and foreordination when he reminded 
 these same converts that God in His kindness to 
 them, and as an expression of His gracious love, 
 has made them the especial recipients of His 
 saving mercy — and this to the end that, being 
 sanctified "in spirit and soul and body," they 
 might be ready for the expected coming of the 
 Son in His glory (I. Thess. v., 23). "Election," 
 as Paul taught it, went no further than this. 
 Generally he represented it, not as a dogma of 
 theology, but as a fact of Christian experience in 
 the lives of his readers (1. Thess. i., 4, 5), involving 
 the assurance of their acceptance in the sight 
 or presence of God. Universally he used his 
 theology simply as an aid or stimulus to holy 
 living. In all his writings this is his point of view. 
 If any theological truth or fact could be used to 
 aid him in making saints out of sinners, he so 
 
The Writings of Paul 33 
 
 used it; otherwise he had no use for it. And 
 having developed it so far as might be necessary 
 for this purpose, he dropped it. 
 
 Hence, in reading Paul we need to acquire first 
 a new point of view, one that involves, not his 
 supposed greatness as a theologian, but his 
 greatness as a teacher to ignorant converts just 
 bom out of heathenism — a teacher of practical 
 every-day righteousness, of a religion to live by 
 and die by, a religion that produces or results in 
 pure lives, holy living. And this above all things 
 was what they needed to know. Nor is there 
 much doubt that we also need to know it. 
 
 Probably to a greater extent than any other 
 man who ever tried to express his ideas in writing, 
 Paul was embarrassed and hampered by the de- 
 fects and limitations of the language in which he 
 wrote. While, being a Jew, he probably thought 
 in Hebrew, he had to write in Greek; and the Greek 
 language had no words for the expression of many 
 Christian ideas. The Chinese vocabulary has no 
 word for "God, " simply because the Chinese peo- 
 ple have no idea or conception of God. Scarcely 
 any of the languages of barbarism have words 
 for the expression of holiness, purity, sin, sanctifi- 
 cation, atonement, etc., for the reason that the 
 ideas which these words represent have never be- 
 come a part of the thought of barbarous peoples. 
 The English language, also, being originally a 
 language of heathenism, is at some points equally 
 deficient. For the expression of the idea of lovCy 
 
34 The Writings of Paul 
 
 whether it be the self -gratifying love that a man 
 has for his dog or his dinner, or the self-denying 
 love that he entertains, or ought to entertain, for 
 his fellow-man, as well as for his Maker and 
 Redeemer, the English language has practically 
 but a single word — the word "love." Such few 
 synonyms as we have express variations in the 
 intensity of the love, but not in its kind. Hence 
 the impossibility which confronted our translators, 
 of expressing in English what Paul tried to say in 
 I. Corinthians xiii., about that particular kind 
 of love which is a necessary element of Christian 
 faith and a Christian life. 
 
 The consequence of the limitation referred to 
 was that Paul often had to use old words with 
 new meanings and trust to the context to make his 
 own meaning clear, as in his use of the word 
 "charity" (I. Cor. xiii., A. V.); or he sometimes 
 added a clause of explanation, as in reference to 
 the resurrection-body (I. Cor. xv., 44), or resorted 
 to the use of an awkward and almost meaningless 
 circumlocution, as "the mind of the flesh" (Rom. 
 viii., 7), or "the body of this death" (Rom. vii., 24). 
 Thus the unsuitableness of the language in which 
 he wrote— that is, for the clear expression of 
 Christian ideas — has much to do with the difficulty 
 the average reader has in understanding him. 
 
 It is an unfortunate fact, and has much to do 
 with Paul's lack of popularity as a writer, that our 
 English translation, if not actually bad, is at least 
 exceedingly imperfect and defective; for it is 
 
The Writings of Paul 35 
 
 approximately a literal translation, and such a 
 translation of a book intended for general reading 
 frequently fails to reproduce with clearness and 
 accuracy the particular thought or shade of thought 
 expressed in the original. And this is especially 
 true of writings such as Paul's, wherein acciu-acy 
 of thought and exactness and brevity of expression 
 are, so far as defects of language would permit, 
 united or combined. Books of exact science are 
 usually so translated, 'as are also books especially 
 intended for the use of the student and scholar; 
 but translations made for general reading by "all 
 sorts and conditions of men" are, as a rule, made 
 on different lines. The Bible is the only excep- 
 tion in our whole range of literature that I now 
 recall. A large part of the difficulty the average 
 reader has in understanding many of its passages 
 arises from the fact that Hebrew thoughts and 
 ideas, though embodied in English words, are still 
 expressed in forms or idioms of speech peculiar to 
 the Greek and Hebrew tongues — idioms, too, that 
 are well understood only by trained scholars. A 
 translation of Paul's writings that any devout 
 reader can understand as readily as he understands 
 the Gospels is a desideratum for which we must 
 look to the indefinite future ; and in the meantime, 
 we must stumble along with the aid of commen- 
 taries as best we can. The Twentieth Century New 
 Testament (Revell Co.), while it has its defects, 
 is a move in the right direction. 
 
 So far as we can now ascertain, Paul never 
 
36 The Writings of Paul 
 
 imagined that he was writing for the distant future, 
 for posterity, or for the instruction of the church 
 through all the centuries of its coming history. 
 He confidently expected the return of the Master 
 at a very early date — in fact, sometime during the 
 life-period of the generation then living (I. Thess. 
 iv., 15, 17). The Master's authority, when He 
 should come, would supersede that of His servant. 
 Hence, Paul expected that his letters to the 
 churches would be short-lived, and he had no 
 occasion to deal with any except then-existing 
 problems and conditions. Probably no busier 
 man ever Hved. His letters show that they 
 were written in haste. Like letters generally they 
 were written discursively and without much 
 regard to system. They were letters from a 
 pastor to his own people — letters suggested for 
 the most part by their then-existing wants, 
 necessities, errors, and surroundings, or prompted 
 by his interest or anxiety in their behalf. Writing 
 in haste, he often omitted explanations that, if 
 added, would throw light on some things now 
 obscure. Also, some things obscure to us were 
 perfectly intelligible to his readers, for he had 
 already given them the necessary oral explanations, 
 as is indicated by his frequent use of the phrase 
 *'For ye know, brethren." But, passing by what 
 is obscure, enough remains for our ''instruction in 
 righteousness," and more than that we do not 
 need. 
 
 Another feature of Paul's writings which the 
 
The Writings of Paul 37 
 
 general reader often fails to take into account 
 arises from the fact that he was a man of many and 
 widely divergent moods. Sometimes he wrote in 
 great sorrow of mind, or under great mental 
 depression (I. Cor. ii., 3) ; sometimes with the most 
 tender affection (I. Thess. ii., 7) ; sometimes in deep 
 anger (Gal. iii., i), and with good cause; some- 
 times he is strictly didactic, as much so as a modem 
 school-teacher (Rom. xii., 9 et seq.); sometimes 
 closely argumentative 1(Rom. iii.) ; at times violent- 
 ly denunciatory (I. Cor. vi.,) ; sometimes he writes 
 as if he were soliloquizing, or talking to himself 
 (Rom. vii., 7-25); sometimes he is triumphantly 
 grand (II. Tim. iv., 6-8), and grandly sublime 
 (I. Cor. XV., 35-50); but always he is terribly in 
 earnest. Other illustrations of all these diverse 
 moods or states of mind will be met with as we 
 progress ; and a fairly accurate knowledge of them 
 will greatly enhance the interest of the devout 
 reader in what Paul has to say. 
 
 I have just spoken of Paul as a man who was 
 always terribly in earnest. No man was ever more 
 so ; and his terrible earnestness was always directed 
 to one point — the salvation of the Gentiles. 
 Everything that he had ever learned, seen, thought, 
 or done; every fact, argimient, and consideration 
 he could think of; every element of personal 
 influence or persuasive appeal that he could use 
 to reach the human mind and exercise control 
 over human conduct, he utilized freely for the 
 attainment of this result. He regarded the Gen- 
 
38 The Writings of Paul 
 
 tiles (including everybody except the Jews) some- 
 what as a diligent farmer in harvest-time regards 
 his crops when a storm is impending. They must 
 be saved at all hazards. In Paul's spiritual vision, 
 a storm of divine wrath was impending over human- 
 ity — a terrible storm, a storm of vengeance (Rom. 
 i., i8; ii., 5-8). The time was short (I. Cor. vii., 
 29). The storm would soon break loose. Christ 
 the Lord would soon reappear — so Paul thought — 
 in a few years at most (I. Thess. iv., 17). .The 
 Gentiles must be gathered in out of the storm, and 
 made ready for His appearing. So thinking, it is no 
 wonder that Paul was always in earnest, and that 
 his earnestness was something almost superhuman. 
 
 Paul was a skilled logician (according to the 
 logical method of his day), but he used his logic 
 just as he did his theology — as an aid in illustrat- 
 ing, applying, and enforcing his gospel of salvation. 
 If logic and theology answered this purpose, well 
 and good. If they failed for that purpose, he 
 threw them both away. A striking illustration 
 of this will be found in Romans v., 12, 13. The 
 logic and the theology of this celebrated passage 
 failed to establish the conclusions that Paul had 
 then in mind. His argument appears to me about 
 thus, and I quote his exact words as they appear 
 in our Revised Version : 
 
 '* Through one man sin entered into the world: 
 
 ''And death through sin: 
 
 ''And so death passed unto all men, for that all 
 sinned." 
 
The Writings of Paul 39 
 
 I should imagine that he stopped a moment to 
 think. Was tliis correct? Yes; and he resumes: 
 
 "For until the law sin was in the world. " 
 
 Apparently it then occurred to him that: 
 
 ^' Sin is not imputed where there is no law.'' 
 
 In view of this additional fact, Paul seems to 
 have been confronted with the question : If prior to 
 Moses the law did not exist, and if ''sin is not 
 imputed where there is no law,'" how could it be 
 said that from Adam tb Moses ''all sinned''? 
 
 At this point his argument broke down. 
 
 But he made no effort to extricate himself from 
 his own logical dilemma. Apparently he cared 
 nothing for the theology or the logic involved in his 
 argument. They simply failed to illustrate the 
 facts he had in mind and wished to make clear- 
 But as these facts were true, and for his purposes 
 were infinitely more important than the argument, 
 he threw away or discarded the argument, seeming 
 to care so little for it that he would not, or at least 
 did not, take the trouble to erase it. 
 
 " Nevertheless, " he proceeds — that is, no matter 
 about the fallacy of the argument just made 
 (Rom. v., 12, 13), the fact remains that: 
 
 "Death reigned from Adam until Moses," etc. 
 (verse 14). 
 
 Nobody could dispute this as a fact. 
 
 And with this he is enabled to emphasize the 
 further fact or conclusion, which was the point he 
 was chiefly after, that the "free gift" of grace and 
 salvation through Jesus Christ is larger, greater, 
 
40 The Writings of Paul 
 
 and more abundant than "the trespass" through 
 Adam (verses 15-21). 
 
 Herein consisted one of the chief elements of his 
 gospel message of salvation. 
 
 Paul here, as elsewhere, in presenting this 
 gospel, brushes aside everything which comes his 
 way. Apparently he has no time nor thought for 
 anything else. Everything within the range of his 
 knowledge, thought, and experience that will aid 
 him in elucidating the subject of personal salvation 
 through a crucified Christ effectively, persuasively, 
 and convincingly, he uses freely ; everything else is 
 discarded. 
 
 Some modem theologians kindly help Paul out of 
 the dilemma of verses 12, 13 by saying of Adam's 
 first sin, that the entire human race then ''sinned 
 in him," and that therefore "all sinned" — in this 
 way making involuntary sinners of all those who 
 lived before the giving of the law by Moses. 
 Perhaps this is a correct explanation, but Paul is 
 not its author. He himself gives a better one in 
 Rom. i., 20. Natural law, he says, always existed. 
 When men violated that law, they became sinners. 
 As they all violated it, of course they "all sinned. " 
 Paul, as I have said, sometimes wrote as if he were 
 soliloquizing — talking to himself. A notable il^ 
 lustration of this occurs in Rom. vii., 7-25. How 
 was the presence of sinful tendencies in the heart 
 after conversion to be accounted for, so that the 
 untrained and uneducated converts of the church 
 at Rome, recently bom out of heathenism, could 
 
The Writings of Paul 41 
 
 understand it? They were mentally incapable of 
 iinderstanding the doctrine of "total depravity." 
 
 "Original sin" would be to them a meaningless 
 phrase. Satan was somebody they knew nothing 
 about. 
 
 Paul, by an imaginary line of reasoning, argued 
 the question out with himself y and thus showed 
 them how, by a similar mental argument of their 
 own, they could reach the same conclusions for 
 themselves, which he Reached for himself. These 
 conclusions are stated in chapter viii. I doubt 
 if Paul cared much for the argument, except as it 
 guided the minds of his readers to the desired 
 conclusions. According to our modem teachings, 
 his view of indwelling sin, instead of a personal 
 Satan, as the impelling agency to sin, is theologic- 
 ally unsound. But that apparently was a matter 
 of no importance to him. The facts of practical 
 religion was what he was after. These he made 
 convincingly, overwhelmingly clear. 
 
 Occasionally in Paul's reasoning there is an 
 element of almost childlike simplicity that is 
 really charming. Take, for example, Rom. v., 7. 
 To illustrate with impressive emphasis the 
 exceptional greatness of divine love, in ^'that 
 while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us" 
 (verse 8), he begins (verse 7): "For scarcely 
 for a righteous man will one die. " 
 
 Just then it appears to have occurred to him 
 that this was perhaps rather too broad a state- 
 ment ; that it w^as at least conceivable that some 
 
42 The Writings of Paul 
 
 one might attain to such height of genuine good- 
 ness; that out of respect, love, or veneration, 
 somebody might be willing to take his place in a 
 deadly peril. But instead of modifying his 
 statement by erasure or amendment, as a modern 
 writer would have done, he added an expression 
 of doubt as to its correctness, ''perad venture for 
 the good man some one would even dare to die" — 
 and having thus set himself right, he proceeded in 
 verse 8, with its application. 
 
 Paul probably wrote many letters or epistles 
 besides those which are still preserved. In his 
 *' anxiety for all the churches" (II. Cor. xi., 28), it 
 could hardly have been otherwise. According to 
 I. Cor. v., 9, he had already written to the 
 Corinthians once before. If so, he wrote at least 
 three letters to the church at Corinth. A now 
 lost letter to the Laodiceans appears to be referred 
 to in Colossians iv., 16, and another in Ephesians 
 iii., 3. And it is a significant fact that in the 
 second of the two earliest letters now extant, 
 when adding a postscript in his peculiar hand- 
 writing (Gal. vi., 11), he says that this is ''the 
 token in every epistle" (II. Thess. iii., 17), thus 
 implying that the writing of such letters was not 
 uncommon with him even at that early date, 
 and that in all of them he thus wrote the conclusion 
 with his own hand as a means of identification, 
 and also as a protection against forgery. For 
 from II. Thessalonians ii., 2, it may fairly be in- 
 ferred that Paul's enemies in the church were not 
 
The Writings of Paul 43 
 
 above the use of forged epistles for the purpose of 
 alienating and misleading his converts. 
 
 It must be admitted, however, that Paul is not a 
 graceful writer; that is, his style of composition 
 lacks for the most part that easy, graceful flow 
 of words and consecutive expression of related 
 ideas which are found in the Gospels and in Acts ; 
 or, at least, it so appears in our translation. In 
 fact, as a writer his style is often (though not 
 always) as erratic, aSrupt, and rugged as that 
 of Thomas Carlyle, who as a thinker somewhat 
 resembles him. Consequently his writings, like 
 those of Carlyle, are not what in our mental 
 laziness we call easy reading; but his richness and 
 originality of thought in the setting forth of the 
 vital matters of life and immortality are such that 
 the diligent and devout student will find therein 
 a rich reward. Sometimes he apparently errs on 
 the side of conciseness, heaping up a host of great 
 ideas in a single brief sentence, as, for example, 
 in Romans iii., 24, 25, in which are included justi- 
 fication, divine grace, human redemption, sacri- 
 ficial propitiation, saving faith, atoning blood, 
 righteousness, sin, and forgiveness, besides half a 
 dozen collateral ideas, and all in a paragraph 
 of only forty-four words. Sometimes language 
 seems to fail him, or, so to speak, to break down, 
 as in II. Corinthians iv., 17,, where he tells us that 
 the '' afflictions" of this life, though ''light" (as 
 regards our capacity to endure), and which last 
 but ''for the moment " (as compared with eternity) 
 
44 The Writings of Paul 
 
 still work out for us not only a future ** glory" 
 but a "weight" or mass of glory, and a "weight 
 of glory " which will be "eternal, " and this working 
 will go on during eternity ''more and more,'' 
 that is, continually increasing in its energy, and 
 with a degree of increase ''exceedingly'' beyond 
 anything he can describe. Language failed him to 
 express adequately what was in his mind. 
 
 One of the unexpected things in Paul's writings 
 is his use of the phrase "my gospel" — not once, 
 but repeatedly. 
 
THE GOSPEL OF PAUL 
 
 Paul, in his letters, occasionally speaks of 
 something which he calls "my gospel." Three 
 times he uses this specific phrase (Rom. ii., i6; 
 xvi., 25; II. Tim. ii., 8). 
 
 In four other cases he seems to have the same 
 idea in mind, for he refers to the gospel as he 
 preached it (II. Cor. xi., 4; Gal. i., 6, 11; ii., 2). 
 
 Three other times, as though, in thought, 
 joining his colaborers with himself, he uses the 
 phrase "our gospel" (II. Cor. iv., 3; I. Thess. i., 
 5; II. Thess. ii., 14). 
 
 In Galatians ii., 7, he draws a marked distinction 
 between his own Gentile gospel and Peter's 
 Jewish gospel. 
 
 What did he mean by these expressions? Why 
 did he use them? Evidently not in antagonism 
 to "the gospel of Christ"; his frequent and rever- 
 ent use of this phrase precludes any such con- 
 clusion. The purpose of both was the same — the 
 salvation of a sinful race; the means was the same 
 — righteousness of life through faith in Jesus of 
 Nazareth as the Saviour and Redeemer of men. 
 Both came from the same source; both pervaded 
 the same time and the same humanity; both 
 
 45 
 
46 The Gospel of Paul 
 
 finally merge into the same eternity. So far, the 
 gospel preached by Paul and that preached by 
 the Twelve were at one. 
 
 But there was a difference somewhere, and a 
 difference worth talking about, or we may be sure 
 that Paul would not so have spoken. And if he 
 formulated and preached a gospel for the Gentiles, 
 it may be important to us to know what it is ; for 
 we all belong in that class. 
 
 I. So far as existing records show, the preach- 
 ing of the Twelve, at least during the period of 
 Paul's missionary life, was confined mainly, if not 
 entirely, to the Jews, that is, to efforts on the part 
 of the Twelve to convert their fellow-citizens of 
 that obstinate and bigoted race (Acts xi., 19). 
 To this end, the best line of argument they could 
 pursue, and in fact almost the only arguments they 
 cotild advance with any persuasive effect, were 
 based on the idea that Jesus of Nazareth was the 
 fulfilment of the Messianic prophecies (Acts ii., 
 16-36), in the truth of which they already believed ; 
 for if He was not their predicted Messiah, then the 
 Jews could have no further interest in Him. 
 Their Sanhedrin, the court which, by divine 
 appointment, as they were taught and believed, 
 was the final arbiter in all matters of religion, had 
 decided that He was an impostor. That was the 
 end of the argument with the orthodox Jew, unless 
 it could be shown, and shown conclusively, that 
 the Sanhedrin had misjudged the case. This 
 latter proposition was an essential part of the 
 
The Gospel of Paul 47 
 
 argiiment, or of the gospel which was preached 
 by the Twelve (Acts iii., 14-26). Paul made 
 use of the same argument from prophecy on the 
 few occasions when he is reported as addressing 
 a Jewish audience (Acts xiii., 22-41). 
 
 But by far the larger part of Paul's labors was 
 in efforts to Christianize, not the Jews, but the 
 Gentiles, or, as we now express it, the heathen ; for 
 at that day all Gentiles came within our modem 
 definition of heathen. Universally they worshiped 
 false gods, or no gods at all. 
 
 But the Messianic argimient had no force with 
 the Gentiles. They were totally ignorant of the 
 Jewish prophecies, and cared nothing for them — 
 no more than we care for the Koran of Mohammed 
 or the mythical gold plates of Joseph Smith. 
 Suppose the prophecies were true — what was that 
 to them? These prophecies were all distinctively 
 JeT\dsh and, following their exact language, they 
 were to find their anticipated consummation in 
 the glory and prosperity of the Jewish people. In 
 those matters the Gentiles had no interest what- 
 ever. The argument from Jewish prophecy would 
 have no more persuasive effect on Gentile minds 
 than a strictly Mormon argument now has on ours. 
 
 Consequently Paul, in respect of the gospel 
 that he purposed to preach to the Gentiles, was 
 compelled to work out or formulate an entirely 
 different Hne of argument, the argument from 
 prophecy being of no force whatever. 
 
 2. Besides this, he had not only an entirely 
 
48 The Gospel of Paul 
 
 different class of people to deal with, but a differ- 
 ent class of minds, and especially a different 
 system of religious thought. In the Gentile 
 beliefs of that day, morality constituted no part 
 of religion or of religious obligation. If a man 
 rendered to his chosen deity or deities the required 
 formal acts of sacrifice, observed the regular 
 feast-days, repeated the prescribed formulas of 
 prayer or invocation in the specified ways and 
 forms, abstained from desecrations of the temples, 
 etc., he might be as immoral in actual life as he 
 pleased, without giving offense to his deity. 
 Wrong-doing might be an offense as against a 
 neighbor, or might involve a violation of the laws 
 of the empire, and in either case might meet with 
 proper punishment at the hands of the civil 
 magistrate; or, in localities where the standard of 
 morals was unusually high, it might affect one's 
 standing in good society; but no element of 
 religious duty or obligation would be affected by it. 
 The gods of heathenism were not generally under- 
 stood as caring aught for the morals of their 
 worshipers; for as a rule they were immoral 
 themselves. 
 
 Now, in Judaism, good morals constituted a 
 part of reHgion, and always had. Hence, in the 
 gospel of the Twelve, as preached to a Jewish 
 audience, this was not one of the truths necessary 
 to be inculcated as an essential preliminary to 
 conversion. It was believed already. 
 
 But the gospel for a Gentile audience must 
 
The Gospel of Paul 49 
 
 include this as an essential rule both of faith and 
 practice. The Gentiles had to be taught up to the 
 point of conviction (and this took a long time) 
 what they did not at first believe and never had 
 believed, that good morals, pure lives, and holy 
 living were essential elements of religion. 
 
 Consequently Paul, as the leader and pioneer 
 in the work of converting the Gentiles, had to 
 formulate and preach a gospel which was, in this 
 respect at least, different from that preached by 
 the Twelve to the Jews. But it must be a gospel 
 that would include the Jews, for otherwise it could 
 not be universal. So far as existing records show, 
 Paul was the first to formulate such a gospel, that 
 is, the gospel of universal religion, good for Jew 
 and Gentile alike, and for "all sorts and conditions 
 of men" of each class. 
 
 3. One, and perhaps the chief, difference be- 
 tween Paul's gospel, and that which was not his 
 (Gal. i., 6, 7) was that the former involved and 
 included a repudiation of the Mosaic law as then 
 understood and taught by the Jewish church. 
 An aggressive and influential section of the mother 
 church of Jerusalem insisted that compliance 
 with the Mosaic law, especially as regards the 
 odious rite of circumcision, was an essential pre- 
 requisite to membership in the Christian church; 
 and a vigorous effort was made to impose the 
 unendurable burdens of that law (Acts xv., 10) 
 on the consciences of Paul's Gentile converts. 
 This movement, if successful, would have made 
 
50 The Gospel of Paul 
 
 Christianity a mere adjunct or sect of Judaism, 
 and the effort to found a church of the Gentiles — 
 the church to which we belong — would have been a 
 total failure. To defeat this movement, and to 
 free the churches of his planting from a fatal 
 bondage to Judaism, Paul practically repudiated 
 (see Galatians; Rom. iii., 20; Col. ii., 16 et seq.) 
 the whole Mosaic system, though of course not in 
 its code of morals; for good morals are more 
 essentially a part of Christianity than of any other 
 religion that ever was known. But when Paul 
 did this, he established a very important and in 
 fact a vital difference between the gospel which he 
 preached, and that of his Judaic opponents. 
 
 And the difference consisted in this: that while 
 their gospel was only for the Jews and such occa- 
 sional proselytes from the Gentiles as could be 
 picked up here and there, Paul's gospel was for all 
 humanity. Paul was the first man who ever 
 preached a gospel of that kind in such a way as to 
 secure general acceptance. When this was done> 
 and not before, the salvation of the race from the 
 effects of the fall became possible. 
 
 4. While I am not sure that such is the case, I 
 am strongly inclined to think that the Epistle to 
 the Hebrews contains a special adaptation of 
 Paul's gospel to Jewish minds or Jewish modes of 
 thinking. Clearly Paul was not its author {cf. 
 Gal. i., 12, Heb. ii., 3), but it plainly was written 
 by an educated Jewish convert of high spiritual 
 attainments and great mental ability. Apollos 
 
The Gospel of Paul 51 
 
 answers best to its requirements (Acts xviii.,. 
 24-28). Some critics of high rank give Barnabas' 
 the credit. But whoever wrote it, it was written 
 solely for Jewish readers. The wants and inter- 
 ests of the Gentiles did not come at all within the 
 writer's field of view. With or for them he shows 
 no concern whatever. The Christian system, as he 
 thus presents it from a Christo- Judaic standpoint, 
 differs from Paul's delineation of it chiefly (i) in 
 respect of faith, and (2) in respect of Christ as a 
 sacrifice. 
 
 (i) As to the first difference, the faith in 
 Christ sketched in Hebrews is the same m kind 
 as that which the Jew had always been taught to 
 exercise in Jehovah his king — that is, the faith of 
 confident trust and reliance in the truth of promises 
 made, and a faith followed by corresponding acts 
 or deeds. But faith as Paul sets it forth is of a 
 much higher kind in that it is perfected or fully 
 attained only when Christ dwells in the hearts of 
 His people and they dwell in Him, so producing 
 oneness of life in and through Him, whereby they 
 become sons of God. This latter conception of 
 faith is scarcely foimd in Hebrews at all, but it 
 probably constituted one of the distinctive features 
 of Paul's gospel. 
 
 (2) As to the other difference, it is clear that 
 the writer of Hebrews carried forward into the 
 Christian atonement, the propitiatory idea which 
 lay at the basis of the old Mosaic system of sacri- 
 fice — the idea that God was a Being who had to be 
 
52 The Gospel of Paul 
 
 propitiated; that is, His anger must be placated 
 or His favor secured; or, in other words, that He 
 had to be reconciled to us; and that this was 
 effected in and by the sacrifice on Calvary. But 
 Paul's view is directly the reverse — that Christ's 
 atoning work was to reconcile us to Him; that God 
 was already reconciled and always had been; that 
 men, humanity, had become alienated by sin, 
 and must be brought back to a state or condition 
 of reconciliation with God, so that through faith 
 and righteousness they might be remade or made 
 over, and thereby become acceptable to Him, and 
 fit, as it were, to come into His presence, and 
 eventually grow up into sons of God. In this view 
 of the atonement, Paul's gospel appears to have 
 been distinctively his own. 
 
 From these considerations it appears that the 
 writer of Hebrews regarded Christianity as the 
 outgrowth and perfected development of a still 
 existing Judaism; whereas, according to Paul, 
 Christianity superseded Judaism — aboHshed it 
 and took its place. 
 
 Whether these two views of Christianity are, 
 for our purposes, irreconcilably at variance is a 
 question for separate consideration. In my 
 opinion, they are not; but if they are, then I feel 
 bound to follow Paul: he wrote for the Gentiles, 
 and we come in that class. The writer of Hebrews 
 wrote for the Jews, who come in another class. 
 
 It is true that after Paul's death (about a.d. 67 
 or 68), and after the destruction of Jerusalem 
 
The Gospel of Paul 53 
 
 (a.d. 70) — with which event the mother church was 
 largely shorn of its power and influence — the gos- 
 pel of Paul came to be generally accepted in and 
 by the church at large. Peter a few years later 
 (as indicated in his epistles to the Jews of the 
 dispersion) had come to adopt most of Paul's 
 ideas and some of his peculiar phrases as well. 
 That he had read some of Paiil's epistles, clearly 
 appears from II. Pet. iii., 15, 16. That he found 
 therein some things "hard to be understood,'* 
 need be no matter of surprise. I doubt if the man 
 has yet been bom who can take in, apprehend, and 
 comprehend to its full extent, Paul's conception of 
 Christianity. Nor does it count to the discredit 
 of Peter that he sometimes found it difficult to 
 fathom the depth of Paul's meaning. He pos- 
 sessed neither Paul's natural abilities nor his 
 education and mental training, and in respect of 
 spiritual power he doubtless was Paul's inferior. 
 For while it was no small honor to be allowed to 
 witness, as Peter did, the theophany of the trans- 
 figuration (Luke ix., 28-36), it was a far higher 
 honor to be accorded, as Paul was, a view of the ce- 
 lestial glories of the third heaven (II. Cor. xii., 1-4.) 
 And if, as seems highly probable, the beatific honor 
 thus conferred on each be a divinely indicated 
 measure of the spiritual attainments of each, then 
 Paul, spiritually, outranked Peter by far, and is 
 without a peer among men; and his competence 
 to formulate a gospel of his own for the evangeliza- 
 tion of the Gentiles cannot be called in question. 
 
54 The Gospel of Paul 
 
 5. When Paul, as he said in his first letter to 
 the Corinthians, ''determined not to know any- 
 thing among" them "save Jesus Christ, and Him 
 crucified" (I. Cor. ii., 2), he apparently then 
 adopted some new rule or practice in at least the 
 particular order in which he would present to 
 them the essential truths of the new Christian 
 faith. At this time he had been engaged in his 
 ministry to the Gentiles for nearly twenty years. 
 Doubtless he had learned something by practical 
 experience as to the best way in which to bring 
 the Gospel to bear effectively on the minds and 
 lives of those who, like the Gentiles of that day, 
 had been trained in the debased and debasing 
 religions of heathenism. It is, I think, fairly 
 inferable that to the Galatian churches he had 
 been preaching the gospel of faith (Gal. iii.); 
 .and to the Thessalonians the gospel of the second 
 advent (I. Thess. iv., 13 et seq.). For some reason or 
 reasons which we can only surmise, he appears, 
 on opening his Gentile work at Corinth, to have 
 relegated these elements of the new religion to a 
 subordinate position, or to have left them some- 
 what in the background. John the Baptist had 
 preached the gospel of repentance (Matt, iii., 1,2); 
 Jesus of Nazareth had done the same (Matt, iv., 
 17) ; so had Peter and the Twelve after the resiurec- 
 tion (Acts ii., 38) ; but all this was to Jewish hearers. 
 
 Possibly Paul had now found by experience that 
 the doctrines of repentance and faith — both in- 
 volving spiritual experiences and activities — were 
 
The Gospel of Paul 55 
 
 too difficult of apprehension on the part of his 
 unspiritual Gentile hearers. It is not easy for us 
 to understand them even yet. Only the spiritual 
 man understands spiritual things (I. Cor. ii., 14, 
 15), and those who all their lives had been votaries 
 of Diana and Jupiter and the lesser deities of 
 idolatry were anything but spiritual: they were 
 strictly ''carnal" through and through, and in 
 their lives were generally addicted to the practice 
 of the lowest and most debasing immoralities 
 (Rom. i., 24-32). Could the Gospel be presented 
 to them from some other standpoint, whereby it 
 would or might be made to take immediate hold 
 on the minds and lives of hearers of this class? 
 Apparently Paul thought so; and thereupon he 
 commenced preaching to the Corinthian Gentiles 
 the gospel of a Person, Jesus the Christ, and ''Him 
 crucified" as the Redeemer of men. Of course, 
 this gospel of a Person included a gospel of re- 
 pentance and a gospel of faith, but these two were 
 derivative and not primary. Both rested on a 
 Person — what He was, said, and did — so that the 
 personal element, in Paul's thought, became the 
 fundamental truth to be primarily presented. 
 This tnath being well apprehended, the other 
 essential elements of the new reHgion could 
 be taught with reasonable hope of success 
 (Heb. vi., i). 
 
 Now, it is a fact that ideas, principles, and rules 
 of action in society, church, and state, are made 
 most forcibly and persuasively effective in con- 
 
56 The Gospel of Paul 
 
 vincing the human mind when they are embodied 
 in and illustrated by the life of some representative 
 person or individual. 
 
 For example; when we wish to teach the evils 
 of inordinate ambition, we can most effectively 
 and convincingly do so by illustrations from the 
 life and career of Napoleon Bonaparte. That our 
 children may learn to execrate a traitor, we tell 
 them of Judas Iscariot and Benedict Arnold. 
 Our highest lessons of patriotism are deduced from 
 the person and life of Washington. The integrity 
 of our Union is personified in Abraham Lincoln; 
 Mormonism, in Brigham Young; Methodism, in 
 the Wesleys; Presbyterian theology, in John 
 Calvin. For a pure and perfect Christianity, 
 there is and can be no higher manifestation than 
 in the person and life of the Carpenter of Galilee. 
 He who understands Him knows the whole of prac- 
 tical religion ; he who lives as He lived is a saint. 
 
 It is much easier to teach and understand a 
 perfect life than a perfect doctrine. Ordinarily 
 the latter appeals only to the intellect ; the former 
 reaches the heart and all the human sympathies. 
 And the more nearly the person is like unto us, the 
 more powerfully are we influenced by his life. 
 Thus it was that ''it behooved Him in all things to 
 be made like unto His brethren" (Heb. ii., 17), 
 so that the power of His life and personality, 
 entering into the hearts and Hves of the members of 
 the lost humanity, might become efficacious unto 
 their redemption. 
 
The Gospel of Paul 57 
 
 Hence, if I correctly understand the meaning of 
 I. Corinthians ii., 2, Paul's gospel was distinctively 
 the gospel of a Person, Jesus the Christ, and of 
 *'Him crucified, " that is, as the Redeemer of men. 
 These were his two and only two f imdamentals ; 
 everything else in Christianity was derivative 
 therefrom. 
 
 It is no part of my present purpose to summarize 
 the gospel of Paul in its entirety, for I could not do 
 it if I would, but only to point out the more salient 
 features wherein it differed in formal statement or 
 otherwise from that of the Twelve. And here it 
 may also be noted that though Paul scarcely ever 
 refers in set terms to the doctrine of the new birth, 
 such doctrine is in fact involved in his figure of a 
 death unto sin (Rom. vi., 11), and a resurrected 
 life unto righteousness (verse 13). Some thirty 
 or forty years later, the apostle John, by formal 
 statement in the words of the Master, made this 
 doctrine the basis of his Gospel (John iii., 1-12); 
 but, so far as existing records go, Paul was the 
 first to put it in form and force as an element in 
 the work of saving men. So that in all the re- 
 spects named, and perhaps in some others, his 
 Gospel was new, and he had a good right to call it 
 his own. Of course he got it from the Master, 
 and so he tells us (Gal. i., 12) ; but, according to the 
 records, he was the first fully to apprehend it in 
 its length and breadth, and the first practically to 
 utilize it in general evangelical work. When he 
 did this, he created or formulated a universal 
 
58 The Gospel of Paul 
 
 religion, a religion for humanity, a religion capable 
 of saving the entire race — and he is the only son of 
 Adam of whom that can be said. 
 
 It is greatly to be regretted that Christianity has 
 failed to keep itself free of Judaism as Paul intend- 
 ed and taught. Certain Jewish theories of sacri- 
 fice, expiation, and atonement, borrowed in part 
 from the Epistle to the Hebrews, but more largely 
 from the Old Testament, as well as theories of 
 mediation by a priesthood, have become imbedded 
 in the creeds or beliefs of many of the numerous 
 branches of the Christian church. These theories 
 are not taught in the writings of Paul, nor in any 
 of the four Gospels. Also the law of Sabbatical 
 observance, as adopted by most of the Protestant 
 churches of America, is strictly Judaic, or Mosaic, 
 and not Pauline. The name ''Sabbath" is itself 
 Mosaic (or, more probably, it came from heathen 
 Babylon), and as used by us it is a misnomer. In 
 the early apostolic age, what we now know as the 
 Sabbath, or Sunday, was called the first day (Acts 
 XX., 7), as the unorthodox Quakers still call it; 
 and at the close of the century it was known as the 
 Lord's day (Rev. i., 10) — a name now chiefly used 
 by the Disciples of Christ, another unorthodox 
 body, or so regarded. Christianity will not reach 
 its perfection until we learn to think less of Moses 
 and his system of legalism, and more of Paul 
 and his gospel; for in matters of revealed religion 
 Paul is a higher authority than Moses. 
 
A JAPHETIC GOSPEL 
 
 When Paul, under divine guidance, crossed 
 over from Asia Minor into Greece (Acts xvi., 6-10) 
 and undertook to Christianize the sons of Japheth, 
 he appears soon to have discovered that he had 
 on his hands what we now call "a new proposition." 
 The learned philosophers of Athens simply laughed 
 him out of that city (Acts xvii., 32). What he 
 said was to them too absurd for reply or even for 
 serious thought. So also to the Japhetic Gentiles 
 of Corinth; even after he had preached there for a 
 year and a half (Acts xviii., 11) his preaching was 
 still naught but "foolishness," and he so tells us 
 (I. Cor. i., 23). And even to the Japhetic converts 
 at Rome he had to protest that his gospel was 
 nothing to be "ashamed" of (Rom. i., 16) much 
 as though, imder or in view of the public derision 
 to which they were subjected, they were half 
 ashamed of it themselves, and thought that he 
 ought to be so too. 
 
 Nor is such a state of things at all difficult to 
 account for. As respects their established beliefs, 
 the Semitic races of Western Asia ordinarily cared 
 nothing for the reason why; if they were satisfied, 
 -or assured by those who were in authority and 
 
 59 
 
6o A Japhetic Gospel 
 
 were supposed to know, that this or that was so, 
 they usually inquired no farther. Their habitual 
 modes of thinking did not take them into the 
 reason of things. It was enough for them that 
 God made the world; but whether He made it by 
 a single creative act, or by a series of such acts 
 running through six ordinary days, or by a slow 
 process of evolution during millions of years, was 
 with them a matter of no consequence. The 
 accoimt which they received described it as a six- 
 days' work; they accepted the statement, adopted 
 it as a settled article of belief, and neither asked 
 any questions nor entertained any doubts as to its 
 literal acciu-acy. 
 
 The Japhetic mind, on the other hand, if not 
 differently constituted, is at least differently 
 trained. As a general rule, it accepts nothing 
 as certain (except provisionally, or as a "working 
 theory") unless it can be demonstrated to the 
 physical senses as a fact, or else can be shown by a 
 plausible and credible line of reasoning to be at 
 least probably true. When Paul visited Athens and 
 Corinth, he came in contact with a class of men 
 who thought and reasoned along those lines. 
 With them, authority in matters of religion, duty, 
 and obligation did not count, as it did among the 
 sons of Shem. When, for example, resurrection 
 of the dead was preached as one of the tenets of 
 the new reHgion, the Japhetic thinkers of Corinth 
 promptly asked: ''How are the dead raised? and 
 with what manner of body do they come?" (I. Cor. 
 
A Japhetic Gospel 6i 
 
 XV., 35) — evidently implying that the objections 
 thus raised were unanswerable, and that this 
 particular teaching was not worthy of belief. 
 
 Numerous other facts and illustrations to the 
 same effect might be given, but regarding these as 
 sufficient, they would seem to justify the conclusion 
 that when Paul undertook to Christianize the sons 
 of Japheth he presently discovered the necessity of 
 formulating and elaborating, especially for them, 
 a systematic statement of the Christian faith such 
 as, lying along or conforming to their lines of 
 thought, would demonstrate to them its credibility, 
 and bring it within the bounds of their acceptance. 
 Nor was it an easy work. A very long line of 
 devout thinking and spiritual experience inter- 
 vened between the teaching of ''Christ crucified" 
 (I. Cor. ii., 2) as a starting-point and the final 
 consummation in the unknown future (and in an 
 unknown world as well), ''when this mortal shall 
 have put on immortalit}^ " (I. Cor. xv., 54) . Those 
 two things were a great way apart. The Semites 
 could easily jump the chasm that lay between; 
 but not so the sons of Japheth. For them a road 
 had to be built, or a highway cast up, along which 
 they could travel, mentally and spiritually, before 
 they generally would even begin the journey. 
 
 Paul built the road; and as our best BibHcal 
 scholars are generally agreed that no other part of 
 the New Testament, that is, outside of what he 
 wrote, had then been written, we must conclude 
 that he did so without aid from any human source. 
 
62 A Japhetic Gospel 
 
 The mile-posts and guide-boards which mark the 
 line of that road will be found for the most part 
 in the three letters that he wrote to the Japhetic 
 churches of Corinth and Rome; and I think it 
 possible that we have therein a considerable 
 portion of what he included in the phrase "my 
 gospel" — and a gospel specially formulated for 
 the incredulous intellects of the sons of Japheth, 
 the race to which we belong. 
 
 To follow that road and learn to know it prac- 
 tically and thoroughly, we need travel it only 
 once, but this is the work of a lifetime, for the 
 angel of death stands at the other end. But we 
 may take a brief survey of it, note its stations, 
 and learn something of what Paul did. 
 
 I. The starting-point or beginning of the road 
 is outlined in his first reported speech on Japhetic 
 soil (Acts xvii., 22-31), where he carefully dis- 
 tinguishes the God in whose name he speaks — 
 "an unknown god," at least to them — ^from the 
 multitudinous gods of their heathenish idolatries, 
 and sets Him forth as the Creator and Ruler of 
 the Universe, and as the Father of all the races of 
 men. Naturally his hearers would understand 
 that they were included; and this obviously was 
 an important fact which he wished them to learn. 
 
 On leaving Athens he went directly to Corinth, 
 which at that time was probably the chief center 
 of Japhetic art, science, and philosophy, for Athens 
 was in its decline. Here, according to his own 
 statement (I. Cor. ii., 2), he adopted as the basis 
 
A Japhetic Gospel 63 
 
 and substance of his preaching the gospel of a 
 Person — ''Jesus Christ, and Him crucified." As 
 to this I have already expressed my understanding. 
 This Jesus Christ, in Paul's apprehension of Him, 
 was the eternal Son of God, the manifestation of 
 God to men, and the Saviour and Redeemer of 
 humanity (Rom. xvi., 25-27; I. Tim., iv., 9, 10). 
 
 Another fact which lies at the beginning of 
 Paul's gospel was the great and terrible fact of 
 sin — that all men everywhere, of every race and 
 through all time, had been and then were so per- 
 vaded and saturated with sin, and so dominated 
 by it in their thoughts and lives, that they were 
 in awful need of aid, and of such powerful and 
 efficient aid as should suffice to take them out of 
 that state or condition, and make them over into 
 something purer and better — something fit for 
 the Master's use (Rom. iii., 9-20; v., 12-14). 
 
 Death was another horrible fact; but when sin 
 came to an end, death would be destroyed (I. Cor. 
 XV., 54-57). 
 
 2. But how does this Person, this Jesus of 
 Nazareth, who is now in some distant heaven, 
 come into such personal relationship with the 
 individual believer here on earth as to give him any 
 efficient aid in this, his great moral emergency? 
 Paul answers that it is by means of, or through 
 the exercise of, faith in Him, as though this were 
 a sort of connecting-link between man and his 
 Redeemer (Rom. iii., 22). 
 
 3. But this faith is not of the ordinary variety. 
 
64 A Japhetic Gospel 
 
 It must, to be good for anything, possess a strength 
 and quality that will dominate the life of the 
 professed believer, and produce in him a result 
 which Paul calls righteousness — which clearly 
 includes pure, holy, and upright living (Rom. v., 
 i-ii; xii., 9-21). To make men righteous is, 
 in Paul's conception, the aim and end of Chris- 
 tianity (Rom. i., 17) ; and he carefully distinguishes 
 this righteousness from, and contrasts it with, the 
 vile and debasing immoralities which then per- 
 vaded Gentile society (Rom. i., 24-32), as well as 
 with the strictly legal morality of Judaism (Rom. 
 ii., 17-29). The righteousness which Christianity 
 thus demands of its adherents, is so ineffabty 
 superior to all other, that it is, as it were, divine; 
 it is "of God" (Rom. i., 17). 
 
 4. This righteousness — and this is Paul's next 
 step in the road to immortality — results in justifi- 
 cation (Rom. iii., 28), by which I understand him 
 to mean a state or condition on the part of the 
 individual believer in which God is willing to deal 
 with him as if he were just or righteous — not 
 because he is so, but becauvse he is honestly, faith- 
 fully, and diligently trying to be so (verses 23-26). 
 
 5. Next, this state or condition of justification 
 brings each genuine believer into a relationship of 
 ''peace with God" (Rom. v., i) — it is obviously a 
 good thing to be at peace with Him — and also 
 gives him ''access" or admission to the enjoyment 
 of a measure or degree of ''grace" wherein he may 
 thereafter and forever "stand" (verse 2), for he 
 
A Japhetic Gospel 65 
 
 then, by divine adoption has become one of God's 
 family and one of God's heirs (Rom. viii., 15-17). 
 A road that leads to such results is certainly a 
 good road to travel ; and no son of Japheth can say 
 that the waymarks are not clear and distinct. 
 
 6. The three fundamental elements of spiritual 
 Hfe, as above enumerated — faith, righteousness, 
 and justification — when properly cultivated and 
 developed, lead unto salvation (Rom. viii., 14-17), 
 a salvation which, begun here (verses 10, 11), 
 shall finally, by the portal of the Resurrection 
 (I. Cor. XV., 42-44), merge in another life, into a 
 glorious immortality (verses 50-57). 
 
 This is the end of the road, so far as we now know 
 it; but it is not all that Paul has to tell us about it. 
 
 7. All these elements of spiritual life — faith, 
 righteousness, justification, adoption, salvation, 
 resurrection, and immortality — have become avail- 
 able to us through Jesus Christ as a gracious gift 
 bestowed on us out of the amplitude and abtmdance 
 of God's mercy and love to us ; that is, not because 
 we were entitled to them, but because He was 
 graciously pleased, in His infinite kindness, to 
 give them to us; and such was His loving purpose 
 from all eternity (Rom. viii., 31-39; Titus i., 2). 
 
 8. All these are made efficacious in us and for us 
 by His Spirit (Rom. viii., 26, 2^)\ but there are 
 sundry other experiences that belong to this road. 
 
 (i) He who begins with faith must exercise 
 repentance. 
 
 (2) If he would walk in the ways of righteous- 
 
66 A Japhetic Gospel 
 
 ness, he must leave his sins behind ; that is, forsake 
 and abandon them, and not try to take them along 
 with him. 
 
 (3) Progress in the state or condition known as 
 justification leads one on to or toward a state or 
 condition of sanctification ; that is, toward a greater 
 purity of thought and life, or toward holiness. 
 
 (4) Then he who has journeyed so far on that 
 road as to attain unto "peace with God" may 
 consider himself to be "called" or "elected," and 
 may dwell thereafter in that spiritual freedom 
 wherewith Christ has made us free. 
 
 9. Sum up all these elements of spiritual life 
 and experience, add them together, and we have: 
 
 (i) The gospel of a Person — faith in "Jesus 
 Christ, and Him crucified" (I. Cor. ii., 2) — worked 
 out and elaborated into a system of believing, 
 living, and doing, so that even the naturally 
 skeptical sons of Japheth can have no excuse for 
 refusing to hear, believe, and obey. 
 
 (2) We have also a gospel in which, as concern- 
 ing the elements thus enumerated, all branches of 
 the Christian church among the sons of Japheth 
 are substantially agreed. The points on which we 
 disagree and divide relate almost entirely (a) to 
 forms of doctrinal statement; (b) to the relative 
 prominence given to one doctrine as related to 
 some other ; or (c) to matters of church[govemment 
 and worship; none of which, under the teachings of 
 Paul, are essential to salvation, or for membership 
 in the church, which is Christ's body. 
 
A Japhetic Gospel 67 
 
 (3) Herein we have a perfect gospel — perfect 
 because it marks out and shows the way unto 
 perfection. 
 
 (4) It is a universal gospel because it not only 
 contains, but states in logical order, all the essen- 
 tial principles of our Christian system in their 
 hving relationship to practical life, so that "all 
 sorts and conditions of men" may find therein 
 everything they really need to know. 
 
 I cannot say to what extent this Pauline system 
 of thought, thus specially formulated for the 
 Japhetic races, should be employed or relied on 
 in the Christianization of such totally dissimilar 
 races as, for example, the Hamitic of Africa, or the 
 Dravidian of India, or the Mongolian of China, all 
 of which differ from us much more than we differ 
 from the sons of Shem. But from what little I 
 know of these alien races, I should suppose that 
 Paul's system of doctrine or teaching (for that is 
 what doctrine really means) would be to them 
 totally incomprehensible; that they coiild not 
 imderstand it if they would; and, possibly, would 
 not if they could. Nor do I see any reason why 
 they should be required or expected to understand 
 it. If, as clearly appears from what Paul says, 
 Christianity has but one fimdamental principle, 
 faith in ''Jesus Christ, and Him crucified," then 
 I can see no reason why each race or nation, adopt- 
 ing and starting with that basic principle, may not 
 well be allowed to develop therefrom and formu- 
 late for itself a system of its own that shall lead 
 
68 A Japhetic Gospel 
 
 to the same end, righteousness in this Hfe and 
 immortality in the next ; or, better yet, why some 
 man, knowing what Christianity is, and knowing 
 what the race or nation is, and having gifts some- 
 what akin to those which Paul possessed, should 
 not do it for them. At all events, I feel safe in 
 saying that no now existing form of denominational 
 Christianity will become universal, nor will any 
 such form save the race. If Paul had been led, 
 under guidance of the Spirit, into China instead of 
 being led into Greece, would he have written for 
 the Chinese as he wrote for us? Possibly so; 
 but I very much doubt it. 
 
PAUL AND THE EMPIRE 
 
 My knowledge of Paul and my appreciation of 
 his work have been matters of growth, and per- 
 haps of a rather slow growth. Hence it is only 
 recently that I have come to notice the somewhat 
 radical differences that exist between Paul's gospel 
 and that of Jesus of Nazareth, and of which I shall 
 say more presently. If we took chronology for 
 our guide, Paul's letters, instead of coming along 
 toward the end of the New Testament record, 
 would stand at the beginning, and would be ar- 
 ranged in a very different order from that which 
 now prevails. The two- letters to the Thessalonian 
 converts would come first; then, probably, Gala- 
 tians; then Corinthians first and second; then 
 Romans; all probably written between a.d. 52 and 
 58. About three years later, and all nearly at the 
 same time, he wrote Ephesians, Colossians, Philip- 
 pians, and Philemon. Titus and I. Timothy may 
 be dated about a.d. 64, and II. Timothy, his 
 latest extant letter, about a.d. 66. 
 
 These letters contain the earliest Christian 
 literature now extant. So far as other dates are 
 at present ascertainable, all his epistles except, 
 possibly, those to Titus and Timothy, antedate the 
 
 69 
 
70 Paul and the Empire 
 
 earliest of the four Gospels, and there is no clear 
 indication that he ever read any of these. Accord- 
 ingly, his writings show that he had but little 
 knowledge of the former teachings and miraculous 
 works of Jesus while on earth. There is nothing 
 to indicate, and we have no reason to believe, that 
 he ever saw Christ in the flesh, or that prior to his 
 conversion he regarded Him otherwise than as an 
 object of hatred and hostility. He quotes His 
 words once, and only once (Acts xx., 35), and the 
 original of this quotation is lost. Once only he 
 cites Him as an authority (I. Cor. ix., 14). Aside 
 from these instances, and from what he may have 
 learned during the fifteen days spent with Peter at 
 Jerusalem (Gal. i., 18), his knowledge of the gospel 
 he preached and wrote, came to him by direct 
 revelation, or at least he so tells us (Gal. i., 11, 12). 
 Consequently his teachings were not based on our 
 present four-Gospel records, but on an independent 
 and direct revelation made personally to himself. 
 
 Why this was so, we are not advised, but doubt- 
 less good reasons existed. It is possible that, as 
 Paul's gospel was to be, at least primarily, a gospel 
 to and for the Gentiles, it was regarded as import- 
 ant that it be divested, so far as possible, of all the 
 elements of Judaism as Judaism then existed. 
 
 It is a fact worthy of note that Paul never made, 
 so far as we know, any systematic or general 
 statement of the substance or contents of the 
 special revelation thus made by him. One would 
 naturally suppose that he would not have failed 
 
Paul and the Empire 71 
 
 to do this, especially as the adherents of a some- 
 what divergent gospel were at one time seeking to 
 impose that, to the exclusion of his own, on the 
 churches he had organized (Gal. ii., 6-9) . Perhaps 
 his failure in this respect arose from the confident 
 expectation which he entertained at one time 
 that Christ the Lord would very soon reappear 
 (I. Thess. iv., 15-17), in which case the authority 
 of the Lord Himself would supersede anything that 
 his servants might write. Hence Paul probably 
 regarded his own writings as ephemeral in charac- 
 ter and destined to be short-lived. 
 
 During His public ministry, Jesus preached 
 what may fairly be called an ideal religion; that 
 is, a religion perfect in its principles, and also 
 perfect in the application that He made of those 
 principles to the facts of daily life, and as thor- 
 oughly perfect as a millennial state of existence 
 can possibly require. Thus, he taught what we now 
 know as a community of goods, or the duty on the 
 part of the rich of sharing their wealth with the 
 poor (Mark x., 17-27) ; and He taught it, not as a 
 distant or millennial duty, but as a duty then 
 present, and of immediate binding obligation. 
 He also taught (in derogation of Moses) an ideal 
 law of the marriage relation (Matt, xix., 3-9), 
 which our Protestant churches (except the Episco- 
 pal) have not learned to enforce or live up to even 
 yet. He taught, too, a law of love which, if ap- 
 plied as between master and slave, would have 
 been fatal to the system of slavery that prevailed 
 
72 Paul and the Empire 
 
 everywhere throughout the Roman Empire. And 
 as to the civil governments of His day, He seems 
 to have regarded them generally with indifference 
 (Matt, xvii., 25) or open contempt (Luke xiii., 31, 
 
 32). 
 
 Now, when Paul undertook the work of convert- 
 ing the Gentiles, and in that work came to apply 
 Christian principles to the peculiar conditions of 
 Gentile life, he was confronted with a nimiber of 
 serious problems. Should he preach as Jesus had 
 done, a community of goods, and should he 
 imdertake to put that principle in force in the 
 churches which he gathered here and there among 
 the Gentile provinces of the empire, such work 
 would tend to unsettle the laws of property in the 
 empire ; and out in the provinces Rome allowed no 
 interference with her laws. If he should teach the 
 Master's law of love — "thou shalt love thy neigh- 
 bor as thyself" — he must so teach it that existing 
 domestic relations, and particularly the attitude of 
 the slave toward his master, should not be dis- 
 turbed, for this would certainly tend to render the 
 slaves restless if not rebellious against the brutal 
 tyranny under which they suffered ; and here again 
 the Roman law was inexorable. 
 
 Such teachings as Jesus gave on these and sundry 
 other strictly mundane affairs might do very well 
 for the Jewish people, since they were in every 
 sense a peculiar people, obstinately fanatical and 
 difficult to manage, so that, as to their intercom- 
 munal relations, they were left to do pretty much 
 
Paul and the Empire 73 
 
 as they pleased. But such teachings would not do 
 in the Gentile communities that made up the 
 Roman Empire. The preservation of order was 
 the first duty of a provincial magistrate, and Rome 
 made short work of those who sought to break up 
 or interfere with existing civil or political institu- 
 tions. Immediate arrest, a short trial, and a quick 
 death was the rule for such. Hence Paul could 
 not preach a commimity of goods among the 
 Gentiles. No more could he release the wife from 
 slavish obedience to the commands of the husband, 
 no matter how brutal or unjust they might be 
 (Col. iii., 1 8). Slavery, too, he was compelled to 
 recognize as an institution that must at least be 
 tolerated (verse 22) ; and when he made a convert 
 of the runaway slave Onesimus, he had to send him 
 back to his owner, for to keep him would have 
 been stealing, under imperial law. He could not 
 send him to a land of freedom, for there was none, 
 nor turn him loose to become a criminal and an 
 outlaw. Nor could Paul say anything in deroga- 
 tion of the civil government or of the existing 
 rulers, for this would have been treason. Any 
 one of these offenses would have been fatal to the 
 cause. Paul would have been put to death, and 
 likewise every person affiliated with him, and the 
 nascent church, at least among the Gentile com- 
 mimities, would have been wiped out at the very 
 beginning. For the church was not yet strong 
 enough either to nm counter to the laws of the 
 empire or to disregard the established usages of 
 
74 Paul and the Empire 
 
 the provinces ; neither did it become so until about 
 two or three centuries later, by which time it had 
 secured so firm a foothold and so commanding an 
 influence that the empire was compelled to yield to 
 its authority. 
 
 I cite these facts simply to illustrate the other 
 and larger fact that Paul in his work, from its 
 very inception, had on hand the very large problem 
 of adapting the ideal teachings of the Master to 
 the then existing social, civil, and political condi- 
 tions of Gentile life. He took men, life, and 
 society as he found them, and did the best he 
 could to make them better. He made no effort 
 to attain unto or to incorporate into the Gentile 
 church the high idealism of the Master in respect 
 of worldly relations, but leaving them as they were, 
 he sought to sanctify those relations and to make 
 them an auxiliary in the larger work of saving 
 souls. If he could not safely teach a community of 
 goods, he could at least enjoin on his converts the 
 duty of liberality to the poor (I. Cor. xvi., i, 2; 
 Rom. XV., 26). If he could not reform the 
 marriage relation, he could at least make it the 
 duty of husbands to love their wives (Eph. v., 
 25) — something that was exceeding rare in Gentile 
 heathenism. And though he could not aboHsh 
 slavery, he could enjoin on the slave-owner the 
 obligation of dealing justly with his slaves (Col. 
 iv., i); for it was true then, as was held several 
 centuries later, and held much later still by the 
 highest court of our own Christian nation, that 
 
Paul and the Empire 75 
 
 slaves had no rights which their owners were 
 bound to respect. Paul was preeminently a 
 practical man, and in the practical work of found- 
 ing, not an ideal, but a practical Christianity, 
 he accomplished results that appear likely to last 
 till the millennium. 
 
 Hence the work of translating the idealism of 
 Jesus into a practicalism that would render it 
 admissible into Gentile life and surroundings, 
 thus securing for Christianity a permanent foot- 
 hold in Gentile communities, was at once a 
 delicate and a hazardous undertaking. None 
 but a man of transcendent genius and ability, a 
 man of profound piety, such as Paul was, could 
 ever have accomplished it. But for his Roman 
 citizenship, his personal safety among either Jews 
 or Gentiles would have been nil. But for his 
 liberal education and his mental and spiritual 
 power, he could never have understood the essence 
 and substance of Christianity. If he had not 
 been an honest man — intellectually honest — he 
 would not have yielded to the influences which 
 made him a Christian. If he had been a timid 
 man, he never would have pioneered the work of 
 the church anywhere. If he had been at all 
 lacking in courage, he would have given up the 
 work when, as often happened, the difficulties 
 before him became apparently insuperable (II. 
 Cor. iv., 8, 9). If adulation could have turned his 
 head, he would have become the supposed incar- 
 nation of a heathen deity, and would have founded 
 
76 Paul and the Empire 
 
 a religion of his own (Acts xiv., 12, 13). If, after 
 his conversion, he had retained the bigotry of his 
 Judaic education, he would never have polluted 
 himself by any association with the dogs of Gentiles. 
 If he had carried over into Christianity the fa- 
 naticism of Judaism, he would have imposed on his 
 Gentile converts the rigorous and (some of them) 
 odious requirements of the Mosaic law ; and in that 
 case Christianity would have become only a new 
 sect of Judaism embracing Pharisees, Sadducees, 
 and Nazarenes (Acts xxiv., 5). If he had been 
 lacking in discretion, he would have ruined his 
 cause by impracticable measures that would have 
 brought him into immediate and open and fatal 
 conflict with the empire. He says of himself: 
 "I am become all things to all men" (I. Cor. ix., 
 22), and therein he discreetly conformed to the 
 Master's command: ''Be ye wise as serpents and 
 harmless as doves" (Matt, x., 16). 
 
 The rare discretion that Paul displayed during 
 the twenty-five or thirty years of his ministry, in 
 the adjustment and maintenance of apparently 
 irreconcilable relations, whereby peace w^as pre- 
 served between the church and the empire until 
 the church became too powerful to be destroyed, is 
 one of his most striking characteristics, and prob- 
 ably the one that goes most frequently unnoticed. 
 His enemies were always lying in wait. A single 
 rash speech carried to the willing ears of a procura- 
 tor or a proconsul wotild have been liable at any 
 time to prove his undoing. A single indiscreet 
 
Paul and the Empire 77 
 
 move, involving a change in the civil or political 
 status of his converts, or the least indication that 
 they occupied an attitude of hostility to any of the 
 imperial laws, would have brought down on them 
 at once the wrath of Rome. In fact, such was 
 the final outcome. 
 
 It appears probable that in Paul's time the 
 imperial authorities counted the Christians as a 
 sect of the Jews; and the Jews, by a special con- 
 cession, were exempted from the obligation of 
 paying divine honors to the emperor. They were 
 also protected in the free exercise of their own 
 religion, for religious freedom was at that time as 
 well established in the Roman Empire as it now is 
 in the United States. But toward the end of the 
 first century the Christians, then generally known 
 to outsiders as ''Adherents of the Name," be- 
 came so numerous that, no longer being associ- 
 ated with Jews, they were separately dealt with. 
 As subjects of the deified emperor they were 
 required to show their loyalty to him by at least 
 burning a pinch of incense in his honor. This, 
 because they regarded it as idolatry, they refused 
 to do. Thereupon they became the objects of 
 persecution, not because they were Christians, 
 but because they were disloyal to the emperor. 
 The contest that followed between the church and 
 the empire lasted for about two centuries, and it 
 was a war to the death. But during this time the 
 church had become too strong to be destroyed 
 and eventually it conquered. It was by no means 
 
78 Paul and the Empire 
 
 the least of Paul's achievements that he skilfully 
 averted that war while the church was in the 
 infancy of its growth, for at that time the hostility 
 of the empire would have been fatal to it and to 
 him. 
 
 For reasons already stated, I do not understand 
 that Paul imagined, regarding many things which 
 he required or permitted, that he was making 
 rules of practice which should be of binding obliga- 
 tion on the church throughout the ages of its 
 future history. He was writing and working, 
 primarily at least, with direct reference to the 
 then existing condition of things. For instance, 
 when he forbade women to speak in the church 
 (I. Cor. xiv., 34) he simply required them to 
 conform to the demands of public decency and 
 morality. The connection which women in those 
 days had with the services of religion in heathen 
 temples was not such as was promotive of good 
 morals. Hence in order to preserve his churches 
 from even the suspicion in public apprehension of 
 immoral associations or practices, Paul was com- 
 pelled to prescribe as he did. But such a state of 
 things does not now exist in connection with the 
 service of our holy religion; and while I do not 
 advocate a woman-ministry, I know no good 
 reason why this prohibition of Paul's should still 
 be quoted as final authority on that point. If he 
 were now living, I doubt not that he would listen 
 with interest and approval, and possibly with 
 profit, to such a woman as Mrs. Ballington Booth, 
 
Paul and the Empire 79 
 
 even if she were speaking from a Presbj^terian 
 pulpit. 
 
 Hence also, in so far as Paul omitted to enjoin on 
 his converts the high idealism of the Master as 
 set forth in the Gospels, I think that he probably 
 did so for reasons that were but local and tem- 
 porary; and if so, it obviously became the duty of 
 the church, as soon as it gained the upper hand in 
 its contest with the empire, to endeavor vigorously 
 to conform its rules of living and doing to the 
 much higher standard which the Master had 
 prescribed. Unfortunately the church did not do 
 so; nor, except in a few small and iminfluential 
 sects (as the Moravian, for example) has it done so 
 yet. 
 
THE ACTS OF THE APOSTLES 
 
 If this book were entitled Thirty Years of Con- 
 flict, the average reader would easily get a more 
 correct understanding and a higher appreciation 
 of its contents. Its present title is clearly a 
 misnomer. Peter is the only one of the original 
 apostles whose ''acts" can be said to figure with 
 any considerable prominence, and that only in 
 somewhat less than the first half of the book. Paul, 
 the leading character in the rest of the book, was 
 never, so far as we know, recognized as an apostle 
 by the Twelve. The next most prominent per- 
 sonages in its narrative, Philip, Stephen, and 
 James (Acts i., 13), never even claimed apostle- 
 ship. If Luke had intended to treat of the acts 
 of the apostles generally, he would have told us 
 something of what the others were doing during 
 the thirty years of his history. The man who first 
 devised this name for this book did not under- 
 stand his business. 
 
 It is the only book in the Bible that is strictly 
 historical. Chronicles, as the name implies, is a 
 mere chronicle of events; Kings and Samuel are 
 the same. 
 
 80 
 
The Acts of the Apostles 8i 
 
 Luke, the author of Acts, was probably a Greek 
 by descent, and clearly possessed in a high degree 
 what is called ''the historical faculty" — a faculty 
 not uncommon among the educated men of Greece 
 and Rome, but quite rare among the people of 
 Hebrew blood. Josephus is the first Jewish his- 
 torian of whom we have any knowledge, and he, 
 by training and education, was half Roman. 
 
 Luke also had a good education, or else he 
 possessed a native genius for literary work. His 
 Greek diction is superior to that of any other New 
 Testament writer. Where the facts were not 
 within his personal knowledge, he looked up and 
 collated his authorities with care (Luke i., 3). 
 Much of what he wrote in Acts he personally 
 observed (Acts xvi., 16; xx., 7, 13; xxi., i; etc.). 
 As a physician (Col. iv., 14), he probably had the 
 usual education of his profession. His writings, 
 at all events, show clearly and conclusively that he 
 was well equipped for the work he undertook. 
 
 From evidence found in Luke's Gospel, it seems 
 reasonably clear that this was compiled and writ- 
 ten after the destruction of Jerusalem (a.d. 70); 
 and, con jectur ally, I would place it at or about 
 A.D. 75. The Book of Acts came later (Acts i., i), 
 probably not much if at all earlier than a.d. 80, 
 and, for reasons presently to be noted, not later 
 than the early or middle nineties. 
 
 It will appear as we proceed that during the 
 first thirty or forty years of the preaching of the 
 new religion, say down to about a.d. 65 or 70, 
 
82 The Acts of the Apostles 
 
 the attitude of the empire — that is, of the civil au- 
 thorities — was not unfriendly. ^ The new religion 
 was tolerated, and its adherents were protected, just 
 as were the cults of Judaism or of Jupiter or Diana. 
 What particular deity a man worshiped, or what 
 religion he believed, was at that time a matter of 
 indifference to the Roman authorities so long as 
 he paid his taxes, obeyed the laws, and kept the 
 peace. 
 
 So far as existing records go, no general perse- 
 cution by the civil authorities was inaugurated 
 till near the end of the reign of the Emperor 
 Domitian, say about a.d. 93-96; but it appears 
 reasonably clear that at some time earlier, say 
 between a.d. 75 and 90, the imperial authorities 
 had drifted into a position of hostility to the new 
 religion, and were showing that hostility in such 
 ways as to make the prospect alarming. This 
 hostility, we may readily believe, as it became more 
 open and more pronounced, led to local persecu- 
 tions here and there throughout the empire, until 
 at last under Domitian, all restraints were re- 
 moved, and the attitude of the imperial authori- 
 ties then became unalterably hostile, and deadly 
 in its hostility. 
 
 We may safely say that this period marked an 
 
 * I leave the Neronian persecution (a.d. 64-68) out of considera- 
 tion, because: (i) it was the result of the personal malevolence 
 and brutality of Nero himself; (2) it ended when he died; (3) it 
 did not extend to the provinces, but was limited to the city of 
 Rome; and (4) it did not change the subsequent policy of the 
 empire toward the Adherents of the Name. 
 
The Acts of the Apostles 83 
 
 epoch in the history of the new church. There- 
 after it had to fight for its right to live : either the 
 church or the empire must conquer. The fight 
 was made ; it lasted for the next two hundred years 
 or more ; the empire was defeated and Christianity 
 survived. But during the earlier years, Judaism 
 was hostile, and violently so, as it had been from 
 the first ; so also was heathenism. 
 
 Now, as I read the Book of Acts, it was written 
 primarily for the purpose of presenting, historically : 
 (i) the conflicts between Christianity and its open 
 and avowed enemies, Judaism and heathenism; 
 (2) the unjust efforts made by these to effect the 
 suppression of Christianity by bringing it into 
 conflict with the empire, during the period of 
 which the book treats, say down to about a.d. 64; 
 and (3) the fact that these efforts were unavailing 
 because, during this period, the church had invari- 
 ably lived at peace with the empire, and with the 
 church the empire had always maintained friendly 
 relations. If these things were so, they would 
 obviously operate as an argument in favor of the 
 continuance of amicable relations between the 
 church and the empire, and as an argument against 
 any policy of persecution that might be ''in the 
 air" or under consideration by the emperor, his 
 officers, and advisers. For if (as was the case), 
 during the turmoils and conflicts of the first thirty 
 years of the life of the new church, its adherents 
 had so observed the laws and lived in such peace 
 as to entitle them to the friendly protection of the 
 
84 The Acts of the Apostles 
 
 civil authorities; and if (as was also the case) the 
 only occasions when they were mixed up in riotous 
 or disorderiy proceedings resulted from the unjust 
 assaults of Jewish and heathen fanaticism, these 
 facts ought obviously to have been of no little 
 weight in preventing the adoption of any opposite 
 or adverse policy, and the new church should have 
 continued to receive public toleration and official 
 protection. 
 
 Hence the argument of the Book of Acts is an 
 argument against persecution, and it was probably 
 written at a time when the church was in danger. 
 It involved a vindication of the church against 
 unjust assaults, a justification of the policy it 
 had pursued, and an effort to secure on the part 
 of the empire the same friendly treatment which 
 for thirty years it had enjoyed. 
 
 Obviously, such a history could not be written 
 without setting forth also the successes which the 
 church had met with and the reasons why it had 
 grown and prospered and gone to nearly all parts 
 and provinces of the empire; for these successes, 
 judged either by the means employed or by results 
 attained, involved nothing unfriendly to the em- 
 pire or at variance with its recognized interests, 
 and hence gave no ground for a change in the 
 imperial policy. 
 
 Also, it was important to the same end that the 
 civil authorities should be informed as to the 
 origin of the church; where it came from; how it 
 came into existence; the purposes and principles 
 
The Acts of the Apostles 85 
 
 of its organization; who were its leaders and 
 representative men. 
 
 Let us see if the facts fit this theory, for other- 
 wise the theory is worthless. 
 
 The Origin and Organization oj the Church 
 
 These are set forth briefly but with sufficient 
 fullness for the writer's purpose in chapters i. and 
 ii. The new religion is shown (i., 1-14) to be the 
 outcome of a religious movement the history of 
 which he had narrated in a previous book, but 
 the consummation of which, by the resurrection 
 and ascension of its founder, is here particularly 
 set forth. The instructions he gave for the 
 guidance of his followers (verse 8) are clearly 
 stated, and it \\ill be noted that they contain 
 nothing of a political cast or type. So far, the 
 empire had nothing to fear. The original and 
 authorized organizers of the chruch are individu- 
 ally named (verse 13), and record is made of 
 the completion of the official organization by the 
 election of a new member to take the place of one 
 who, through a course of base treachery, had been 
 driven by consequent remorse to a consequent 
 suicide (verses 15-26). 
 
 Next (chap, ii.) we are told of the marvelous 
 success which, in consequence of the presence 
 and power of a supernatural agency, this new 
 religion met with at the very beginning of its 
 career, and how this success had brought into its 
 
86 The Acts of the Apostles 
 
 membership representatives from both the near 
 and the distant provinces of the empire (verses 5- 
 11). It was indeed wonderful; in power and 
 extent the Hke had never been seen in the world 
 before ; but it was only what the ancient prophets 
 of the Hebrew nation had predicted centuries 
 earlier, as Peter proceeded to demonstrate. 
 
 Thus far there was nothing in which the ad- 
 herents of the new faith might not take a justi- 
 fiable pride and rejoice with a holy fervor. To 
 them it was a vindication and source of consolation. 
 Nor was there anything to which the emperor or 
 his officers and advisers could take exception. 
 The religions already prevalent in the empire, 
 and recognized by law, had supernatural stories 
 to tell that were much less credible than anything 
 thus far narrated. Neither was there anything 
 inimical to imperial interests. Of course, Luke 
 does not say all this, but he states the facts, and 
 leaves the obvious inferences to be drawn. 
 
 The Early Conflicts with Judaism 
 
 Three early conflicts with Judaism are narrated ; 
 all belong to Jerusalem and to the first two or three 
 years of the period under consideration; but none 
 of them involved any conflict with the empire or 
 with any imperial interests. Let us take them in 
 order. 
 
 I. The miraculous healing of the lame beggar 
 by Peter in the name of his divine Master, **at 
 
The Acts of the Apostles 87 
 
 the door of the temple which is called Beautiful" 
 (Acts iii., i-io), is evidently narrated because: 
 (i) it was an early and striking illustration of the 
 broad and kindly beneficence that dwelt in and 
 characterized the new faith — that is, it was not 
 inimical (as commonly charged when Luke wrote) 
 to the best interests of society and humanity; 
 
 (2) it opened the door for a new exposition of the 
 origin and nature of the new faith (verses 1 1-26) ; 
 
 (3) even so kindly an act done, not to a fellow- 
 believer, but to a poverty-stricken and helpless 
 stranger, was the groundwork of the first conflict 
 in which the nascent church became involved (chap, 
 iv.) ; but also because (4) — and this was quite as 
 important a fact as any — the conflict was on a 
 question in which the empire (or state, as we call 
 it) had no interest. This miracle, wrought in the 
 highest kindness and charity, marked the incep- 
 tion of an implacable and deadly hostility on the 
 part of Judaism, and a hostility that continued to 
 be implacable and deadly, and unceasingly active, 
 down to the end of the period here dealt with. 
 Judaism became an enemy ; but this enmity, based 
 as it was, not on any principle of legality or civil 
 right or equity, but on a bigoted and inhuman 
 fanaticism, contained or presented no reason why 
 the empire or state should also be an enemy. 
 
 In this first conflict, the new faith won a tem- 
 porary^ victory, and the victory was devoutly 
 celebrated (Acts iv., 13-31). The miracle also 
 worked greatly to an increase in the membership 
 
88 The Acts of the Apostles 
 
 (verse 4), and likewise in the consecrated enthu- 
 siasm of the members of the growing church 
 (verse 32). 
 
 What bearing had the Ananias episode (Acts 
 v., i-ii) on the general subject in hand? Simply 
 this: it showed that the church was honest with 
 itself; in other words, that it had both the power 
 and the will to enforce on its own membership a 
 faithful compliance with the high rules of moral 
 conduct which it professed to the world. Obvi- 
 ously there was nothing here at which the imperial 
 authorities need be alarmed. 
 
 2. The wonderful success met with in the 
 further preaching of the new religion (verses 12- 
 16) led the Jewish Sanhedrin, the highest court of 
 the nation, to take official cognizance of what 
 was going on; for the Sanhedrin exercised jurisdic- 
 tion over matters of faith and morals, as well as 
 over such civil questions as were not reserved to 
 the Roman tribunals. As the Sanhedrin looked 
 at it, the stability of the orthodox faith of the 
 Jewish church was being endangered by this 
 religious re^dval which was sweeping like wildfire 
 through Jerusalem. Such proceedings could not 
 be tolerated. 
 
 The record (verses 17-42) of the arrest of the 
 apostles, their imprisonment, supernatural deliver- 
 ance, rearrest, trial, and final acquittal need not 
 be recapitulated. It is brief, simple, and clear. 
 But two facts should be specially noted, for Luke 
 is careful to state them with much particularity: 
 
The Acts of the Apostles 89 
 
 first, that at this time the apostles in Jerusalem 
 had not taken a position of antagonism in respect 
 of the religious reqmrements of the Mosaic law. 
 They carefully observed the regular usages re- 
 garding temple worship (Acts iii., i). Their 
 usual place of teaching was in the holy temple 
 (Acts v., 20). They were Jews as much as ever. 
 They affirmed that their new faith and belief 
 were in strict accord with the teachings of Moses 
 and the covenant with Abraham (Acts, iii., 22-26). 
 Evidently they regarded this, their new faith, as a 
 further development of Judaism, as something to 
 be added to it, and which, being so added to it, 
 would perfect it, and not as something that would 
 abolish and supersede it. This latter conception 
 and its practical introduction into Christianity 
 belongs to Paul rather than to the original Twelve. 
 The other fact is this : The first serious manifesta- 
 tions of Jewish hostility to the new faith came 
 from the Sadducaic element or faction of Judaism, 
 and not from the Pharisaic (Acts iv., i; v., 17); 
 for the Jewish church was at that time divided 
 into two irreconcilable parties or sects, each vio- 
 lently hating the other; and in the Sanhedrin the 
 Sadducees were then in the majority. In this 
 particular crisis the Pharisaic element sided with 
 the apostles (Acts v., 34-40), probably not out of 
 any love for them, but simply to thwart and annoy 
 their common enemy. It was not long, however, 
 before the Pharisees also became bitterly hostile, 
 as we shall presently see. 
 
90 The Acts of the Apostles 
 
 The two facts thus stated were important for 
 Luke's purpose — the first, because it had to do 
 with the charge of heterodox teaching that was 
 brought against the apostles (Acts iv., 17, 18; v., 
 28, 40), which charge they answered by proving 
 the contrary, as already noted; the second, be- 
 cause it had to do with the composition or makeup 
 of the court that tried them. The majority of the 
 court, the Sadducees, were avowedly hostile, and 
 in fact were the prosecutors ; so that the accused, 
 after trial, were finally acquitted by the conjoint 
 vote of both factions (Acts, v., 40) that is to say, 
 by their avowed enemies, the Sadducees, as well 
 as by their temporary allies, the Pharisees. 
 
 Nor does the fact that before release the apostles 
 were scourged, just to keep them from offending 
 again (verse 40), lessen the effect of this as a 
 verdict of acquittal; for we may be sure that the 
 same Sanhedrin which a year or so before had, 
 contrary to law, condemned Jesus to death (Matt, 
 xxvi., 66) would as unhesitatingly have con- 
 demned his apostles to a like fate if it had been pos- 
 sible to do so. Hence the verdict of acquittal, thus 
 rendered, fully justified the inference that Luke 
 obviously wished his readers to draw, that the 
 Christianity preached by Peter and his apostolic 
 colleagues contained nothing which was at variance 
 with the teachings of Moses and the prophets ; for 
 the Sanhedrin, the court especially invested with 
 jurisdiction of such questions, had in this case so 
 decided. The accused had been guilty of no crime 
 
The Acts of the Apostles 91 
 
 known to the Jewish law. Nor was it pretended 
 that any law of the empire had been violated. 
 Hence the new religion was entitled to tolerant 
 treatment at the hands of both and should not 
 have been persecuted by either. 
 
 On the release of the apostles, their work was 
 resumed with renewed zeal and activity, under 
 the special manifestations of divine favor that 
 attended it, till we come to the conflict that arose 
 out of the vigorous preaching of Stephen, justly 
 revered as the first of the long roll of Christian 
 martyrs (Acts vi., 1-8). 
 
 3. This third conflict, probably about a year 
 or two later, was a direct outcome of Jewish 
 bigotry and fanaticism. Stephen was rapidly 
 forging to the front as a new leader of the primitive 
 faith, and he had acquired such an imderstanding 
 of it that he was led to take the advanced ground 
 afterward occupied by Paul, that Christianity, in- 
 stead of being a sect of Judaism, to live and be 
 developed only within the Jewish church, and to 
 whose membership no one could be eligible ex- 
 cept Jews' proselytes, was in reality a religion 
 that would abolish and supersede Judaism, so 
 that membership therein was open to Jews, but 
 also to impure, polluted, and hated Gentile dogs, 
 and, in fact, to all men without regard to race 
 or nationality. As soon as this was seen to be the 
 drift of Stephen's argimient, and before his position 
 was fully developed, the Sanhedrin was turned 
 into a howling mob, and he was stoned to death 
 
92 The Acts of the Apostles 
 
 without even the forms of verdict and sentence. 
 The wrath thus engendered against him was 
 turned in deadly persecution on the infant church 
 with such malignant violence that its leading 
 adherents were compelled to flee from Jerusalem 
 in haste (Acts viii., 4) ; and even then the emissaries 
 of Judaism, under the leadership of the zealous and 
 bigoted Saul, followed rapidly on their trails in 
 vain efforts to effect the total extermination of the 
 new faith. 
 
 Luke's historical purpose — and I am now dealing 
 with his record from a historical standpoint — in 
 narrating this third conflict (as, merging into a 
 mob, it had no judicial result) was apparently to 
 explain how it was that the new religion came to be 
 presented to the Gentiles of the empire at large; 
 for thus far no Gentile had been converted, nor, 
 so far as we know, had any Gentiles ever heard of 
 Christianity. Consequently, thus far no imperial 
 question had been raised. And still further, not 
 only was it true that, as is afterward shown, 
 Christianity could and did live at peace with 
 the empire, wherefore there was no excuse for im~ 
 perial persecution, but it was also true that the 
 members of the new faith had, from the first, 
 sought to live at peace with Judaism, and that 
 the conflicts which arose with Judaism were 
 not of their seeking. The Jews in every case 
 were the aggressors; their aggressions were with- 
 out good or valid reason ; and the Christians were 
 the innocent victims. And this was true of 
 
The Acts of the Apostles 93 
 
 Herod's brutality (chap, xii.), as it was of the 
 events already reviewed. ^ 
 
 But the church now, for the first time, came 
 into living contact with the Gentiles. The work 
 spread into Samaria (Acts viii., 5-25) — for the 
 Samaritans were classed as Gentiles — a high official 
 of a distant Gentile court is converted (verses 
 26-40) ; also a Roman centurion (Acts x., 1-48) 
 and probably others, for these are evidently 
 selected as historical illustrations of the gen- 
 eral facts and conclusions to be historically 
 developed. 
 
 For strictly historical purposes (chap, ix.), 
 the conversion of Paul was but an episode, though 
 for religious purposes it was much more; but it 
 was an episode necessary to the narration, for 
 hereafter the contact of Christianity with the 
 empire was almost wholly associated with Paul 
 and his work, so much so that the acts and Hves 
 of the other apostles pass entirely out of Luke's 
 field of view. If they or any of them made it any 
 part of their official work to carry the Gospel to 
 the Gentiles, history does not record it; and the 
 traditions that are preserved relative thereto are 
 of no historical value. On the records as we now 
 
 ^ Luke's reason for failing to give an account of the trial and 
 conviction of the apostle James does not appear in the record. 
 If conjecture be allowable we may surmise that this was a tyran- 
 nical case of judicial murder; and if so, it had no significance in 
 respect of the relations of Christianity to Judaism or to the 
 empire — the latter being, as it seems to me, the particular subject 
 of Luke's history. 
 
94 The Acts of the Apostles 
 
 have them Paul is entitled to the sole credit of that 
 work. 
 
 And that work, as he developed and enlarged it, 
 brought him into repeated conflicts with the syna- 
 gogue authorities in Gentile cities and districts. 
 Luke mentions a number of these, but chiefly for 
 the purpose of showing how, in his work, Patd 
 was uniformly compelled, in order to accomplish 
 anything, to quit the synagogue and turn to the 
 Gentiles (Acts xiii., 44-48). His Gentile work 
 finally led to conflicts that brought him and his 
 cause before the imperial tribunals, with results 
 which may form the subject of our next lesson. 
 
THE ACTS OF THE APOSTLES 
 II 
 
 We shall find that the conflicts in which Paul 
 became implicated at last brought him, on several 
 occasions, into direct contact with Rome as rep- 
 resented by her highest judicial officers, and on the 
 last occasion before the emperor himself. Thus 
 the question was fought out whether the active 
 propagation of Christianity contained or involved 
 anything at variance with the laws and interests 
 of the empire. If it did not — and such was the 
 final outcome of the history now before us — then 
 the conclusion was obvious that it had a right to 
 the same toleration and protection in and through- 
 out the empire that was already enjoyed by 
 Judaism and the multitudinous cults of heathen- 
 ism. Let us note these occasions in their order. 
 
 I. According to Luke's account, the work of 
 preaching the new religion had gone on actively, 
 aggressively, and successfully for some twenty- 
 five years, and in such a peaceable way that nothing 
 had been said or done which required even the 
 notice of the imperial authorities, a fact by infer- 
 ence greatly to the credit of the rising chiirch. 
 
 95 
 
96 The Acts of the Apostles 
 
 The first conflict came at Philippi (Acts xvi., ii- 
 39). A female slave of that place, popularly 
 regarded as possessing ''a spirit of divination," 
 and who, by the exercise of her art, ''brought her 
 masters much gain," made herself so annoying to 
 Paul that he exorcised the demon that was sup- 
 posed to inspire her vaticinations, and as a result 
 her value as a money-maker was at an end. Her 
 owners, evidently for purposes of revenge, effected 
 the arrest of Paul and his coadjutor Silas and 
 brought them for trial before the Roman praetors. 
 The exorcising of demons, however, was not an 
 offense under Roman law. Paul had done nothing 
 to interfere with the ownership of this slave, nor 
 had he done anything to lessen her market value 
 as a slave. Hence no law of the empire was vio- 
 lated by what he had done. So, to get desired 
 revenge, the charge was made that he was a 
 disturber of the public peace (verses 20, 21). 
 This was a punishable offense under Roman law, 
 and one of which the prastors were bound to take 
 cognizance. 
 
 The trial, however, instead of following the re- 
 quirements of Roman procedure, merged into an 
 exhibition of mob violence in which the praetors 
 not only unjustly but illegally and offensively took 
 an active part, in such manner as to render them- 
 selves liable to be called to account at the imperial 
 court; for breaches of the peace, especially by 
 lawless mobs, were something which Rome did not 
 tolerate (Acts xix, 40). On the morrow they 
 
The Acts of the Apostles 97 
 
 came to their senses, humbly acquitted the prison- 
 ers, meekly discharged them, and, evidently to get 
 the matter hushed up before a new outbreak of 
 mob violence should bring down on them the wrath 
 of the emperor, they begged Paul to take himself 
 elsewhere. 
 
 Two or three inferences were deducible from this 
 account : 
 
 (i) Paul, in exorcising a demon, did nothing 
 in violation of any law of the empire. The cast- 
 ing out of demons was not uncommon even in 
 heathenism (Acts xix., 13-20). 
 
 (a) The charge that he was a disturber of the 
 public peace was not true. He stood his trial 
 and was acquitted. 
 
 (b) The only disturbers of the peace on this 
 occavsion were the mob and the Roman magistrates. 
 
 Obviously there was nothing in all this that 
 should lead the imperial authorities to take a 
 position or adopt a policy inimical to the new 
 church. Its chief leader and representative, Paul, 
 had kept the peace and obeyed the laws. 
 
 2. The next occasion was when, a few months 
 later, at Corinth, Paul was brought before Gallio, 
 the Roman proconsul, a man of good birth and 
 high rank, a brother of Seneca the philosopher and 
 moralist, well-educated and highly trained in 
 Roman law, and a personal favorite of the emperor. 
 As the sequel proved, he was a typical Roman 
 judge. 
 
 After a few weeks, Paul's work in Corinth became 
 
98 The Acts of the Apostles 
 
 so offensive to the officials of the Jewish synagogue 
 that they seized his person and brought him before 
 the proconsul for trial; but, unfortunately for 
 them, they could not charge him with any crime 
 or offense known to the Roman law — only that he, 
 a Jew, was persuading men to worship their (and 
 his) God in a manner contrary to the methods 
 prescribed by the Mosaic law (Acts xviii., 13). 
 Gallio, as a Roman, cared no more for the Mosaic 
 law than we care for the Book of Mormon ; and as 
 for the particular way in which any citizen or 
 subject of the empire worshiped his deity, or 
 what deity he worshiped, provided he did it in a 
 peaceable manner, and not in disregard of any 
 imperial law, Gallio cared not a button. Subject 
 to these two conditions, Rome permitted to all her 
 subject nations the free exercise of their respective 
 religions, and subject to the same conditions. 
 Religious freedom at that time was as well estab- 
 lished in the Roman Empire as it is now in the 
 United States. Nor were the adherents of one 
 religion allowed to interfere with the free exercise 
 of any other, for such interference would be, or 
 would lead up to, a breach of the peace, and the 
 preservation of the peace was the first duty of every 
 Roman official. 
 
 As soon as the charge was made, Gallio saw that 
 it involved no question that came within the juris- 
 diction of a Roman magistrate. If they had any 
 charge to make ''of wrong" done (a civil injiiry 
 to anybody), or "of wicked villany" (a crime 
 
The Acts of the Apostles 99 
 
 against the law of the empire), he would try the 
 case ; but, as the charge made — evidently the only 
 charge that could be made — was about "words 
 and names and your own [Mosaic] law," these 
 were questions concerning which the empire 
 cared nothing. GalHo accordingly rendered a 
 prompt decision, and dismissed the case (Acts 
 xviii., 14-17). 
 
 Now why did Luke take the trouble to report 
 all this with so much detail? Simply because it 
 was what, in modem law practice, we call a pre- 
 cedent, or an adjudicated case ; and under Roman 
 practice adjudicated cases had quite as much 
 weight as with us — perhaps more. Stare decisis is 
 a very old rule. A proconsul, as a judicial officer, 
 ranked next to the emperor, and the decisions of 
 the former were regarded as a judicial expression 
 of the will of the latter. Hence Luke could very 
 properly and very forcibly cite this case in order 
 to estabHsh the conclusion that Christianity 
 contained nothing inimical to the empire; that it 
 always had been so held, and therefore that Chris- 
 tianity should be tolerated, licensed, and protected 
 just as were Judaism and the numerous cults of 
 heathenism. If so, the conclusion followed that 
 the persecution of the church was contrary to 
 the long-settled and well-established policy of the 
 empire. 
 
 3. The third occasion came some two years 
 later at Ephesus, then the capital of the Roman 
 province of Asia, now a part of Asia Minor. So 
 
100 The Acts of the Apostles 
 
 numerous were Paul's converts from heathenism 
 that the sale of the images and shrines which 
 constituted a part of the cult of the heathen 
 goddess Diana, became seriously lessened, and 
 a trade-union riot followed (Acts xix., 23-41). 
 In this case, however, though Paul was not ar- 
 rested, two of his coadjutors were, but no formal 
 trial appears to have been had. But apparently 
 some of the magistrates were friendly to Paul, 
 had kept themselves well-informed of what was 
 going on, both as to Paul's doings and as to the 
 trade-union opposition, and consequently were 
 prepared to deal with the riot as soon as it broke 
 out. Verse 40 gives formal expression to the 
 danger that confronted the magistrates when the 
 public peace was disturbed. In the case here re- 
 ferred to the town clerk, evidently familiar with all 
 the facts, reminded the mob that these Christians 
 were ''neither robbers of temples nor blasphemers 
 of [their] goddess" (verse 37), and consequently, 
 by inference, had done nothing to interfere with 
 their worship or to disturb the pubHc peace. If 
 they had done any wrong or injury to Demetrius 
 or his fellow-craftsmen, an ample remedy by a 
 regular course of procedure was provided by law, 
 and to this they could report (verse 38). Ob- 
 viously no such wrong had been done ; the makers 
 of devotional shrines could still continue to make 
 and sell as many of them as the worshipers of 
 Diana desired to purchase. Paul and his co- 
 adjutors had not interfered with the worship of 
 
The Acts of the Apostles lOi 
 
 Diana nor with the business or trade of her de- 
 votees. And if it was so here, it was presumptively 
 so elsewhere in the empire — in fact wherever any- 
 idolatrous or other worship prevailed. Thus the 
 leaders of the new church were adjudged to be 
 keepers of the peace in their relations with heathen- 
 ism, just as before Gallio they had been held to 
 be keepers of the peace in their deaHngs with 
 Judaism. In both cases they had respected and 
 obeyed the laws of the empire. 
 
 4. All these experiences, however, were only a 
 prelude to the next, which began in the temple at 
 Jerusalem, and ended in the court of Caesar at 
 Rome, occupying in all foiu* or five years. 
 
 About the year a.d. 57 or 58 Paul made a trip to 
 Jerusalem, ostensibly to carry and deliver certain 
 moneys which his Gentile churches had raised 
 for the poverty-stricken members of the mother 
 church (Rom. xv., 25, 26). I doubt if this was the 
 real reason for the journey, for certainly Paul was 
 not justified in thus risking his life (Acts xxi., 4, 
 11-14) on a business errand which any one of his 
 several lieutenants could have done just as well 
 and with perfect safety. But clearly it was the 
 only reason of which Luke knew. How it was 
 that by so doing Paul was putting himself in peril, 
 has been explained already. When he released 
 the churches under his charge from the obligations 
 of the Mosaic law and ritual, as adopted and en- 
 forced by the great Sanhedrin at Jerusalem, he 
 thereby became in Jewish thought a renegade and 
 
102 The Acts of the Apostles 
 
 an outcast. It is safe to say that when he entered 
 the city he was the most thoroughly hated man 
 within its walls. But as he had been there only 
 once or twice during the previous twenty years, 
 and then only for a short time, he was probably 
 known personally to few outside the circle of 
 Christian converts, and even the majority of 
 them regarded him with very marked disfavor 
 (verses 20, 21). 
 
 In order to conciliate this hostile Christian 
 element, Paul consented to show in public at 
 least an external conformity to one of their leading 
 ceremonial observances (verses 22-26). One da}^ 
 while so occupied, he chanced to come under the 
 notice of some foreign Jews who knew him by 
 sight, and who, in their bigoted fanaticism, at 
 once raised the *' mad-dog" cry of heresy and 
 temple-profanation. A wild and lawless riot 
 immediately broke loose. The Roman garrison 
 quickly intervened and rescued Paul from an other- 
 wise certain death, not because they cared any- 
 thing for Paul, or even knew him, but simply to 
 ''keep the peace. " Before the officer in command 
 of the garrison could find out what the riot was 
 about, he learned of the existence of a secret but 
 well-devised plot, engineered by the holy Sanhedrin 
 itself, having for its object the assassination of 
 Paul. He thereupon promptly relieved himself 
 of responsibility by sending Paul, under a power- 
 ful military escort, to his superior officer, Felix, 
 the procurator at Caesarea, and referred Paul's 
 
The Acts of the Apostles 103 
 
 accusers to that superior authority (chaps, xxi- 
 xxiv.). 
 
 A time was set for the trial, and the accusers 
 appeared, accompanied by a professional advocate 
 who filled the role of prosecuting attorney. A set 
 of charges (an accusatio, or, as we call it, an indict- 
 ment) was formulated, in substance as follows: 
 
 (i) That Paul was a notorious disturber of the 
 public peace (Acts xxiv., 5). 
 
 (2) That he was a ringleader of the new sect, 
 then known in Jerusalem as "the Nazarenes" 
 (verse 5). 
 
 (3) That he had profaned the holy temple of 
 the Jews (verse 6). 
 
 Counts I and 3 of this indictment were for 
 offenses that were punishable under Roman law, 
 for as to count 3, the Jews in their worship were 
 under the protection of the empire. Paul in his 
 defense denied that he was guilty of either of these 
 offenses and demanded the proofs, as he had a 
 perfect right to do under Roman law (Acts xxiv., 
 11-13, 19, 20). But the proofs were not forth- 
 coming. Perhaps the witnesses, ''the Jews from 
 Asia" (Acts xxi., 27), had returned to their distant 
 homes, or for some other reason could not be found. 
 Possibly they had discovered the mistake the}^ had 
 made (verse 29) . 
 
 Under count 2 Paul admitted the fact, but 
 denied that this constituted a crime under Roman 
 law (Acts xxiv., 14-17), which was a true and 
 complete answer to the charge. 
 
104 The Acts of the Apostles 
 
 Clearly the prosecution had failed to make out a 
 case and the prisoner was entitled to an immediate 
 acquittal and release. And not only had the 
 prosecution failed, but Felix had already ac- 
 quired in some manner a sufficient knowledge of 
 Christianity — then known to him as "the way" — 
 to enable him to see that the empire had nothing 
 to fear from Paul's preaching (verse 22). At the 
 same time he had no notion of letting Paul go. 
 He would make his imprisonment as comfortable 
 as possible (verse 23), and that might prevent 
 any appeal to the emperor; he would detain him 
 on the frivolous pretext that he must see Lysias 
 before pronouncing judgment (verse 22) ; he would 
 bring Paul within the fascinating influence of his 
 beautiful Jewish bride Drusilla (verse 24) ; he him- 
 self would entertain him as a specially honored 
 palace guest (verse 26) ; he would even try to endure 
 his preaching, but a single experiment was enough 
 (verse 25) — and all for what? A bribe ! (verse 26). 
 Paul could have had his liberty at any time by 
 paying a reasonable bribe, but it was not yet time 
 for the chiurch to be doing business in that way. 
 We do it now, only we call it a ransom — the same 
 thing under another name. 
 
 Felix continued to play this game for two years 
 (verse 27) ; but finally, on account of tyranny and 
 brutality, he was removed from office and ordered 
 to Rome for trial. Then in hopes of appeasing the 
 wrath of the Jews who had been instrumental in 
 securing his recall, he left Paul a prisoner in chains. 
 
The Acts of the Apostles 105 
 
 The case then came before the procurator's suc- 
 cessor, Festus, who in the main was a fair and ex- 
 emplary ruler. What Festus should do with the 
 case was to FeHx apparently a matter of indiffer- 
 ence. Having incurred the emperor's displeasure, 
 Felix had other matters to think of. 
 
 The Jews had become a turbulent, fanatical, 
 passionate, and quarrelsome people, and were 
 probably the most difficult to manage of all the 
 subject nations of the empire. Festus, within 
 three days after reaching his capital, Cassarea, 
 probably in order to get a better knowledge of the 
 singular people with which he had to deal, made a 
 trip to Jerusalem (Acts xxv., i). Jewish hatred of 
 Paul had not abated during the two years that had 
 passed. At once the Jews made a dead set to get 
 Festus to bring Paul to Jerusalem for trial, where, 
 even if he should reach the place alive, which was 
 very doubtful (verse 3), it was perfectly obvious 
 to one knowing the condition of things in the city 
 that he would be convicted on the testimony of 
 perjured witnesses, or that, if acquitted, he would 
 be assassinated as soon as he was out of sight of 
 the imperial guards. Festus at first very curtly 
 refused the demand of the Jews. Paul was in his 
 custody at Caesarea, and there the trial must be 
 held (verses 2-5). 
 
 The trial was so held, and it was briefly a repeti- 
 tion of the former trial before Felix (verses 6-8). 
 The charges were not sustained, for if they had 
 been, Festus would have pronoimced judgment at 
 
io6 The Acts of the Apostles 
 
 once, as he was anxious to placate the favor of the 
 turbiilent people he had come to rule (verse 9). 
 This latter consideration moved him to suggest 
 that instead of rendering judgment at once — and 
 obviously a judgment of acquittal (verse 10) — 
 he would retry the case at Jerusalem. Paul 
 evidently knew that a trial among the perjurers and 
 assassins of Jerusalem would only result fatally to 
 himself. Thereupon he exercised his right as a 
 Roman citizen of an appeal to the emperor. This 
 appeal removed the case from Festus's jurisdiction. 
 He then had nothing to do but keep the prisoner 
 in safe custody till he could be sent to Rome, and 
 with him to send a transcript of the charges made 
 against him, and of the proofs and proceedings. 
 Festus, however, had now got himself into a 
 rather bad box. He could not help recognizing 
 the fact that Paul was entitled to a verdict of 
 acquittal, as fully appears from the last clause of 
 verse 10, and from Festus's own admissions to 
 Agrippa (verses 17-19, 25); but he had refused 
 to acquit him before the appeal, and under Roman 
 procedure he could not acquit him after appeal. 
 He must now send the prisoner to Rome; must 
 send with him a transcript of the case, a trans- 
 cript that should include some charge of offense 
 against the laws of the empire and also an abstract 
 of the evidence to sustain the charge. This he 
 could not furnish for the prosecution had failed 
 to make out a specific case. By sending to his 
 imperial master such a case as this then appeared 
 
The Acts of the Apostles 107 
 
 to be, he would only render himself a subject of 
 derision at the imperial court (Acts xxv., 27). 
 
 While Festus was still puzzling with himself 
 what to do, it happened that Herod Agrippa, the 
 Roman governor (under the title of king) of certain 
 provinces along the northeast frontier of Palestine 
 made a state call on Festus, and doubtless being 
 cordiall}^ welcomed (for such a call was a high 
 honor) "tarried there many days" (verses 13, 14). 
 Now, while Festus evidently knew nothing of 
 Moses and the prophets, nothing of the peculiarities 
 of Jewish religion, ritual, ceremonial require- 
 ments, Messianic expectations, etc., and conse- 
 quently could not make out whether Paul, in his 
 preaching had so interfered Vvith Jewish worship 
 and observances as to render himself amenable 
 to punishment under imperial laws, Agrippa, on 
 the other hand, was perfectly familiar with the 
 whole subject; for, in addition to his training and 
 long experience as a Roman king, he had had in 
 early life a Jewish education, and was, nominally 
 at least, an adherent of the Jewish faith. Even 
 still, by the special authorization of the emperor, 
 he appointed the high priest and exercised a 
 general supervision over the affairs of the tem- 
 ple. Possibly he might help Festus out of his 
 dilemma. Accordingly one day Festus submitted 
 to him a brief statement of the case (verses 14-21). 
 Agrippa readily consented, and the day following 
 was set for the hearing, which, though not a 
 trial in form (for no trial could be had after ap- 
 
io8 The Acts of the Apostles 
 
 peal), yet in moral and logical effect amounted to 
 that. 
 
 This hearing was evidently made a state occasion 
 for the entertainment of the royal visitors by a 
 lavish display of all the wealth, pomp, and magni- 
 ficence with which it could be invested. Festus, 
 as imperial procurator, would necessarily wear his 
 scarlet robe and the other gorgeous insignia of his 
 high office. Agrippa, we may be sure, did not 
 forget, when he came, to bring with him his crown 
 and royal apparel — for the Herods were always 
 noted for their love of ostentation and show. 
 Bernice also was there. She too was a Herod, 
 the daughter of one king, successively the wife of 
 two other kings, the sister of a fourth king, and 
 afterward the reputed mistress of an emperor; 
 wealthy, proud, and imperious, and noted even in 
 Rome for her rare beauty. It is safe to say that 
 with her personal attractions, dress, and decora- 
 tions and her attendant retinue, she contributed 
 no small part to the magnificent pageantry. The 
 uniformed officials of Festus's court were there, 
 his assessors, military tribunes, and lictors. The 
 city officials also were invited (verse 23). 
 Evidently in Luke's thought the court, as thus 
 constituted, befitted the occasion ; for it was finally 
 to be determined, so far as it could be determined 
 by any authority less than that of the emperor 
 himself, whether Christianity, as preached by 
 Paul, was permissible within the empire. In the 
 trial of Paul, Christianity itself was on trial. 
 
The Acts of the Apostles 109 
 
 Festus opened the proceedings with a neat, 
 clear, and graceful statement of the case as it was 
 developed on the previous trial, and also of his 
 dilemma in respect of sending it to the emperor. 
 He then turned the case over to Agrippa, who thus 
 became the presiding judge. On receiving per- 
 mission to speak, Paul proceeded mth a masterly- 
 exposition of the relation to Judaism of the new 
 faith that he preached (chap. xxvi.). 
 
 In it he was grand, eloquent, and sublime. No 
 finer defense of Christianity was ever formulated. 
 Agrippa, to whom it was especially addressed, 
 evidently understood it all; but Paul's recital of 
 heavenly visions and revelations, of Messianic 
 hopes and Mosaic prophecies, of repentance, sanc- 
 tification, and the resurrection of the dead — 
 to these Festus apparently listened in dismayed 
 wonder and astonishment. What could it all 
 mean? To him such talk was but the raving of 
 a man driven into insanity by overstudy (verse 
 24). Paul gracefully affirmed his own sanity 
 and declared that he was speaking "words of truth 
 and soberness," as Agrippa well knew, if Festus 
 did not (verses 25, 26). 
 
 Resuming his defense after Festus's interrup- 
 tion, Paul began to press home on Agrippa the 
 conclusiveness of the argument from prophecy 
 (verse 2^). It seems clear that Agrippa at once 
 apprehended the drift of the argument, but he 
 was not minded to be caught in a trap. He had 
 heard enough. He closed the discussion with a 
 
no The Acts of the Apostles 
 
 curt remark (verse 28), the meaning of which 
 cannot be certainly determined, for we do not 
 know the tone of voice or the manner in which 
 it was spoken. Agrippa, though a Jew by faith, 
 was cynical in temperament, and not noted for 
 piety; in fact, he was "a man of the world" as 
 the world went then. Derisively he said in sub- 
 stance, as I read it: "A little more and you will 
 make a Christian of me. " The idea of making a 
 Christian of Herod Agrippa was the climax of 
 absurdity, or as we sometimes say colloquially, it 
 was "too funny for anything." We may readily 
 imagine that, unless restrained by etiquette or 
 *'good form," a loud haw-haw throughout the 
 court must have greeted this remark. Paul's 
 reply is in strict accord with this interpretation, 
 for he impliedly admits that he has no more 
 expectation of converting Agrippa than he has 
 of converting the lordly Festus and his heathen 
 court, the wanton Bernice, and the other numer- 
 ous members of the heathen concourse. The 
 idea, so prominent in our modern preaching and 
 hymnology, that Agrippa was ''almost persuaded," 
 is not sustained by the record. 
 
 Without waiting to hear the remainder of Paul's 
 argument, the coiirt adjourned (verse 30). After 
 a consultation of all the officials (court and 
 cabinet), a verdict of acquittal was unanimously 
 agreed on (verses 31, 32), although technically it 
 came too late to effect Paul's release. But as a 
 judicial finding its moral effect was the same. 
 
The Acts of the Apostles 1 1 1 
 
 Paul, in preaching Christianity, had wronged no 
 one; had done no violence to Judaism nor to its 
 service or worship; had violated no law of the 
 empire. Probably there was just at that time no 
 officer of the imperial government better quaHfied 
 to pass judicially on those questions than was 
 Herod Agrippa, and I surmise that this was Luke's 
 reason for giving such full particulars of this 
 remarkable trial. 
 
 I have followed these proceedings with some 
 detail simply to bring out clearly the fact that on 
 these charges, and the only charges which could 
 be brought against him, Paul was tried three times 
 by the imperial authorities — ^first by Felix, then 
 by his successor Festus, and again by Agrippa — 
 and by none of the three was he foimd to be guilty 
 of any offense against, or of any crime under, the 
 laws of the empire, even though the prosecution 
 was conducted by the Jewish Sanhedrin with all 
 the wealth, power, and influence at its command, 
 and when two at least of the three judges were 
 avowedly hostile, and the third, Agrippa, no friend 
 of Paiil's. 
 
 It is a noticeable fact that Luke is silent as to 
 the first disposal of Paul's case, when this was 
 brought before the emperor for appeal. 
 
 From the record left us (Acts xxviii., 11-31) it 
 seems that Paul, on arriving at Rome, was not 
 regarded by the imperial authorities as a particu- 
 larly dangerous personage, and hence, instead of 
 being subjected to close confinement was made a 
 
112 The Acts of the Apostles 
 
 prisoner in libera custodia, that is, guarded only by 
 soldiers to prevent his escape, and in order that 
 he might be produced when called for. His 
 imprisonment was largely nominal. 
 
 He was allowed to rent lodgings or apartments of 
 his own, and within those lodgings was subject to 
 no restrictions in respect of his evangelizing work. 
 And this detention continued two whole years, 
 probably awaiting the coming of a new transcript 
 of the case from Festus, to take the place of 
 the one presumably lost in the shipwreck; or pos- 
 sibly the interval was spent in efforts to look 
 up the witnesses, "Jews from Asia" (Acts xxi., 
 27), in whose bigotry the proceedings had their 
 inception. 
 
 If we may conjecture that the witnesses were 
 never found, or that the transcript, when it came, 
 was found by the Roman lawyers to be fatally 
 defective, and that Paul, after a nominal hearing, 
 was discharged without trial, then the history 
 would be perfectly consistent with all the facts 
 now known to us. 
 
 There could hardly have been a judicial trial 
 and acquittal, for, if there had been, and if I am 
 right in the views above expressed as to Luke's 
 purpose in writing the book, he would certainly 
 have told us of such an event, for such fact woiild 
 have completed and fully confirmed his main 
 argument. In fact, such an adjudication would 
 have been final in all Roman courts throughout 
 the empire, at least, until reversed in some later 
 
The Acts of the Apostles 113 
 
 proceeding by the same or some subsequent 
 emperor. 
 
 Hence I am inclined to think that, as the out- 
 come of this particular episode, Paul was finally 
 discharged without trial; evidence and record, one 
 or both, being lost. But the fact that for "two 
 whole years," and while in custody as a prisoner, 
 he was permitted to preach Christianity, at the 
 headquarters of the empire, is strongly confirma- 
 tory of the conclusion that the imperial authorities, 
 at that time, did not regard the new religion as 
 containing anything inimical to imperial interests ; 
 and this fact Luke apparently recorded with care, 
 for it was at least partial confirmation of the con- 
 clusion which he was seeking to establish. 
 
 The inference is obvious; the empire had no 
 cause or occasion to take an attitude or adopt 
 a policy hostile to Christianity, and least of all to 
 persecute its adherents. If precedents or adjudi- 
 cated cases were worth anything, the results of 
 these three trials could be properly cited along 
 with those that had gone before to support that 
 conclusion. 
 
 5. Paul's next trial was before the emperor at 
 Rome. Of the details and results of that trial we 
 know nothing with certainty, but other facts 
 known to us are compatible only with his acquittal. 
 Luke tells us only (Acts xxviii., 30) that Paul re- 
 mained two years a prisoner in Rome. Probably 
 the transcript of the case was lost in the shipwreck 
 (chap, xxvii.,), and the proceedings were delayed 
 
114 The Acts of the Apostles 
 
 till a new one could be procured from Caesarea. 
 For reasons, a statement of which would unduly 
 lengthen the present sketch, I think it fairly clear 
 that Luke intended to write a third book — his 
 Gospel being, as he calls it, "the first" (Acts i., i) 
 — which should be practically a continuation of 
 Acts (the second book), and should further de- 
 velop the same general subject. Perhaps death 
 intervened to prevent it ; perhaps he wrote it, and 
 it is lost. In any event, the Book of Acts is a clear, 
 and historically a noble, vindication of the rights of 
 Christianity within the empire, and of the right of 
 its adherents to live in the empire as a part of the 
 empire, and to be protected by the empire. They 
 kept the peace and obeyed the laws ; so it had been 
 judicially decided by the imperial courts time and 
 time again; what more had the empire a right to 
 ask? 
 
 If, as I believe, Luke wrote the Book of Acts, 
 partly at least, to avert, if possible, a coming or 
 threatened persecution, his effort so far was a 
 failure. The power of Judaism to injure the new 
 faith ended practically with the destruction of 
 Jerusalem (a. d. 70); but the hostile forces of 
 heathenism were too strong to be held permanent- 
 ly in restraint, and the empire was soon committed 
 to a policy of persecution. The causes that led to 
 this change of policy were so complicated that 
 to state them, even briefly, would require a 
 separate sketch; but their power was such that 
 they could not be stayed. The empire was at 
 
The Acts of the Apostles 115 
 
 last led to take an attitude incompatible with the 
 existence of Christianity, which it attempted to 
 suppress; but after about two hundred years of 
 bloody, brutal, and persistent persecution, Chris- 
 tianity triumphed, and by its own sacrifices 
 demonstrated finally its right and its power to 
 live, and to labor, and to enjoy the fniits of its 
 labors, even in the strongholds of the most power- 
 ful persecutor with which it ever came in conflict. 
 The Book of Acts is, in effect, a history of the first 
 thirty years of that conflict. 
 
THE GOSPEL OF JOHN 
 
 The fourth Gospel resembles no other book in 
 the Bible; and, indeed, there is none like it in the 
 wide world. It has a distinctive character of its 
 own, and occupies a position by itself. Of course, 
 like each of the other Gospels, the personaHty 
 of Christ dominates it in every part, and pervades 
 it throughout; but in tone and spirit it is pitched 
 on a totally different key. Even its starting-point 
 is radically different. Matthew and Luke open 
 their Gospels with an account of the birth and 
 childhood of Jesus. In John's apprehension, the 
 Christ whom he delineated had no childhood. 
 As ''the Word" of God, the manifestation and 
 expression of what God is, has done, is doing, 
 and purposes yet to accomplish, especially in 
 the salvation of our fallen race — thus regarded. 
 He existed from all eternity, created everything, 
 pervades everything, is the sotuce of all life, and 
 that life, in what to us is its highest development, 
 is both the Hfe and the Hght of men. 
 
 Presently, in the unfolding of John's thought, 
 
 this "Word became flesh, and dwelt among us," 
 
 to the end that we, through the "grace and truth" 
 
 which Christ brought from heaven to earth as a 
 
 n6 
 
The Gospel of John 117 
 
 part of His very essence and being might be saved. 
 How this wonderful transformation was effected, 
 how ''the Word," through a virgin mother, 
 ''became flesh," was, from John's point of view, 
 a matter just then of no consequence, and accord- 
 ingly he said nothing about it (John i., 1-18). 
 From the standpoint he occupied, the incidents of 
 the nativity, and the Hfe of Jesus until He attained 
 manhood, were of no special interest. 
 
 But the results that were to follow from this 
 transformation — from the incarnation of "the 
 Word" in himianity — were of transcendent im- 
 portance. Humanity was to be remade; men 
 were to be "bom anew" (or "born from above"), 
 not so. much, in John's thought, by the example 
 He set and the manner of living that He pre- 
 scribed, or even, primarily, by any sacrificial or 
 other theory of an atonement wrought out by 
 Himself, as we might naturally infer from the 
 earlier Gospels; but rather through the power of 
 His personality and spirit working in the hearts 
 of men. This was briefly the gospel that Paul 
 preached, and here Paul and John were at one, 
 as we shall presently see. Neither of them places 
 any stress or gives any great prominence to the 
 particular incidents of our Saviour's life — that is 
 to say, prior to His passion — except as through 
 these incidents they are enabled to bring out in 
 bold relief the leading facts or truths of His new 
 revelation. What we sometimes speak of as "the 
 historic Christ" — that is, a person advancing 
 
ii8 The Gospel of John 
 
 '4n wisdom and stature, and in favor with God 
 and man" (Luke ii., 52) — is wholly foreign to the 
 Gospel of John and to the teaching of Paul. 
 
 The fact that the fourth Gospel was written 
 thirty or forty years later than the others justifies 
 an inquiry as to whether some new and unwelcome 
 conditions may not have arisen in the church 
 during that time, on account of which arose also 
 a necessity for a new and perhaps a somewhat 
 different presentation of the essential truths of the 
 Christian faith. 
 
 New times, new errors, or heresies, and even new 
 beHefs, or new forms of old beliefs, frequently 
 demand new statements or new creeds, as the 
 later history of the church abundantly proves — 
 and of this, the Presbyterian Church of to-day, 
 with its late efforts at creed-revision (now a suc- 
 cess) is an illustrative example. 
 
 In speaking of new times, new conditions, etc., 
 we must remember that the new church, under 
 its early spirit of enthusiasm, was undoubtedly 
 growing and moving with marvelous rapidity 
 in some direction — but whither? From Paul's 
 epistles we can readily gather the direction of its 
 development during his lifetime and while under 
 his guidance. But at the time when the fourth 
 Gospel was written Paul had been dead for thirty 
 years or more — the period of an average genera- 
 tion — and his power of guidance and restraint 
 was wanting. John was apparently his successor 
 as the apostolic bishop of the churches of Asia 
 
The Gospel of John 119 
 
 Minor; but as to what was going on in those 
 churches during those thirty years we really know 
 scarcely anything except what we can infer from 
 what John elsewhere tells us. 
 
 The book of Revelation, generally ascribed to 
 John, was written not very far from the same time 
 as his Gospel. Both belong to the same period or 
 era of church history — approximately about the 
 end of the first or the beginning of the second 
 century. In so far as the condition of things in 
 the church, its tendencies, its errors, its piety, and 
 its prospects, may have influenced or controlled 
 John in the preparation of either, the two books 
 are on a par. In view of the fact that these two 
 records are practically contemporaneous, and that 
 both belong to a comparatively late period, as 
 above indicated, the letters of John to ''the seven 
 churches" (Rev. ii., 1-3) become exceedingly 
 interesting and instructive under our present 
 inquiry. "Seven " being in Jewish thought one of 
 the sacred numbers indicating completeness, it is 
 fairly inferable that each of the churches named 
 stood for some particular type or phase of religi- 
 ous development, and that, taken together, they 
 represented the existing religious status, or the 
 condition of religion at that time, at least in the 
 churches of Asia Minor. 
 
 From these letters it is clearly evident that, 
 during the thirty years, more or less, which had 
 elapsed since the death of Paul, the real spirit of 
 the religion that he had preached to these churches 
 
120 The Gospel of John 
 
 had largely died out. Some serious and alarming 
 heresy, promulgated by the otherwise unknown 
 sect of the Nicolaitans, had become firmly estab- 
 lished in the church in Pergamum, to the great 
 deterioration of the standard of piety therein; 
 while through some other influence in the same 
 church religious sacrilege and sexual immorality 
 had ceased to be matters of censure (Rev. ii., 14, 
 15). The metropolitan church in Ephesus had 
 fallen away from its "first love" (verse 4). In 
 the church in Thyatira, some woman whom, from 
 the pseudonym (Jezebel) given to her, I should 
 imagine to have been probably a compound of 
 Catherine de' Medici and Madame de Pompadour, 
 had gained the upper and controlling hand, and 
 had introduced into its service some of the vile 
 abominations of heathenism (verses 20-23). In 
 the church in Sardis the forms of religion were 
 still observed, but its spirituality had departed 
 and the church was "dead" (Rev. iii., i). In the 
 church in Laodicea religion had so far lost charac- 
 ter as to become distasteful to the spiritual ap- 
 prehension of the apostle, as much so as a drink 
 of lukewarm water to a thirsty traveler on a hot 
 day, and what Httle religion was left was but the 
 religion of formalism (verses 15-17). 
 
 Only two out of the seven churches escaped the 
 severe denunciations of the apostle. Between 
 Greek philosophy, rabbinic casuistry, and heathen 
 idolatry in five of the churches the fountain stream 
 along which flowed the sanctifying graces of the 
 
The Gospel of John 121 
 
 Holy Spirit had become, if not totally obstructed, 
 at least so badly befouled and clogged that but 
 little was left which John could safely regard as the 
 basis of hope for the future. Every one of the five 
 is solemnly warned against one or more evils in 
 its membership, which, if not speedily corrected, 
 would prove fatal to its very existence. Of only 
 two out of the seven could the apostle speak other- 
 wise than in words of alarm for the future. And 
 doubtless he was familiar with the subjects of 
 which he spoke, especially if, as alread}^ suggested, 
 these churches, after the death of Paul, came under 
 his apostolic jurisdiction and care. He would then 
 have a good right to address them, as he did, in 
 terms of high commendation for whatever of zeal, 
 piety, and love were still existent in them, but also 
 with severest denunciation and warning against 
 their back-sHding, which appears to have been 
 much in excess of their steadfastness. 
 
 Such being the state of religion, or rather of 
 irreligion, at the date of the fourth Gospel, there is 
 ample room for the surmise that this Gospel was 
 written with especial reference to the alarming evils 
 which the apostle then saw to be impending over 
 the church, and which, if not speedily remedied, 
 could not fail to produce disastrous results. In 
 his view, the only remedy was, not a revival of a 
 knowledge of the historic Christ as sketched in the 
 synoptic Gospels, but a renewed apprehension of 
 Him as a spiritual force ever present and dwelHng 
 in the hearts of men. As Paul had put it in his 
 
122 The Gospel of John 
 
 day, his religion had for its basis the revelation oj 
 Christ in himself (Gal. i., i6); and, as appears 
 throughout his epistles, he had endeavored to 
 instil into the early believers the same vital and 
 controlling fact as a part, and the major part, of 
 the individual experience of each. But the power 
 of this idea or conception of Christ was now lost, 
 or at least was no longer apprehended. John, in 
 his Gospel, sought to revive it. How did he 
 proceed? 
 
 1 . He laid down a new law for the adherents of 
 the Christian faith: ''Except a man be bom anew 
 (or from above), he cannot see the kingdom of 
 God" (John iii., 3). Forty years or so earlier, 
 the other Gospel writers had put in the foreground 
 the law of repentance, but John went farther by 
 indicating that a repentance which stopped short 
 of or failed to produce a new birth in each individual 
 believer, was no repentance at all: it would be of 
 no avail as respecting citizenship in the new king- 
 dom. Thus he carried the law of repentance to 
 its extremest application, and so strikingly and 
 impressively set it forth, in connection with the 
 Nicodemus interview, as to make it practically a 
 new law of the church and a new element of the 
 Christian faith. 
 
 2. As part of the interview with an otherwise 
 unknown but somewhat disreputable woman, John 
 records (John iv.) our Saviour's definition of God: 
 He **is a Spirit," not an emanation, as in the 
 gnosticism of the second century, nor "an in- 
 
The Gospel of John 123 
 
 fluence outside of ourselves which makes for 
 righteousness," as in the agnosticism of our own 
 time, but an individual personal Spirit, to be 
 worshiped by all who seek Him ''in spirit and 
 truth." But what was more to the point, there 
 was no geographical locality where He was especi- 
 ally to be found for purposes of worship, as there- 
 tofore had been the almost universal belief. By 
 the Jew, His earthly dwelling-place was thought 
 to be only in Jerusalem, and only there could His 
 worshipers gain access to His very presence. To 
 the Samaritan, His home was on Mount Gerizim. 
 But the new record was then made that He is 
 present everywhere and to every individual in 
 whose heart dwells the spirit of genuine devotion. 
 Thus was revealed, not for the first time, but at 
 least with new force and impressiveness, the great 
 fact or truth that the God of the Christian faith 
 would come into direct personal relations with every 
 devout 'worshiper at any time and anywhere on 
 His footstool. This was a part of Paul's gospel 
 to the Gentiles, and herein John follows Paul. 
 
 3. And if Christ was the life of the world, how 
 was the spiritual life of His followers to be sus- 
 tained, especially as against the errors of faith and 
 practice which were then so prevalent and power- 
 ful? — ^for we must remember that no form of life 
 with which we are familiar has the capacity of 
 sustaining itself. Some means of sustenance must 
 be provided for spiritual life and growth. 
 
 In the little synagogue at Capernaum, on the 
 
124 The Gospel of John 
 
 next day after the miraculous feeding of the five 
 thousand, and in the hearing of many of those 
 who had been so fed, Jesus answered this question 
 (John vi., 22-59). Solemnly and impressively 
 He annoimced the new truth: "I am the bread 
 of life." How or in what way does He become 
 the bread of life? This is a matter of individual 
 experience. Not one person in a thousand has 
 any conception as to how or why ordinary food 
 sustains and nourishes the body ; we become hungry 
 and learn the rest by experience. In like manner, 
 by that course of pure and holy living which leads 
 us to "hunger and thirst after righteousness, " and 
 in no other way, can we come to learn and to know 
 how or why it is that, when we are bom anew into 
 His life, that life in us will be nourished and sup- 
 ported in and through Him. It cannot be ex- 
 plained, it can only be lived, and the duty of 
 living it can only be measured by the infinite 
 value of the immortal life so to be attained. 
 
 4. Progressively, step by step, John proceeds 
 to develop the dominant thought of his Gospel, 
 which is, the personal relationship that the indi- 
 vidual Christian should sustain to the God he 
 professes to worship and serve; and this dominant 
 thought John gradually unfolds until in his hands 
 it becomes a relation of oneness with God. When 
 that is attained, and so long as it is preserved, 
 it obviously follows that the individual Christian 
 can no more lapse into heresy or idolatry, or con- 
 form to the abominations of heathenism (as the 
 
The Gospel of John 125 
 
 church was then so largely doing) than God Him- 
 self can. Such a thing would be not only im- 
 possible, but inconceivable. 
 
 How do we find this idea developed? 
 
 Christ, in John's conception of Him, brought 
 into the world a new apprehension of the nature, 
 strength, and extent of the Father's love for sinful 
 men. It was a love for the undeserving, the 
 unworthy, the wicked, and a love that even death 
 itself could not quench (John iii., 16; viii., 42, etc.). 
 Paul had understood and preached the same truth 
 (Rom. v., 6-8), but the churches to which he 
 preached were rapidly forgetting it. 
 
 Next, in the exhibition of this love, as well as 
 in their essential life, thought, and being, Christ 
 and the Father were one. Christ dwelt in the 
 Father, and the Father in Him (John x., 30; xiv., 
 10, et seq.). 
 
 Likewise, He dwelt in the hearts of His devout 
 followers and by so dwelHng He incorporated the 
 love and life of the Father into their hearts and 
 lives, into their very essence and being, and there- 
 by made them like God — one with Him, partici- 
 pants in and partakers of His life, and therefore 
 able and willing to return His love, and to live 
 with Him and like Him and in Him (John xiv., 
 20-23; XV., 8-17). 
 
 Thus they would be born again or anew, or 
 born from above, and born into a new life with God, 
 and the union or oneness of God and man would 
 be perfect, complete, and eternal. And when so 
 
126 The Gospel of John 
 
 bom and so united with Him, the errors, the back- 
 slidings, and corruptions which had crept into and 
 endangered the spiritual life of "the seven churches" 
 would infest them no more. 
 
 As to what the apostle meant by oneness with 
 God, I must say, as I said of the bread of life, 
 that it is something to be learned by living it — 
 by trying faithfully and diligently to attain unto 
 it. Such seems to have been Paul's idea (Phil, 
 iii., 13, 14). I apprehend also that the old patri- 
 arch Enoch understood it, at least in part. He 
 "walked with God" — much, perhaps, as two 
 friends with the same interests, tastes, and wishes, 
 either cheerfully adopting the choice of the other, 
 might walk the same road without a thought of 
 dissent or hesitation, and find therein the high- 
 est attainable enjoyments of mutual fellowship. 
 Along the paths selected by one, the other finds 
 it his chiefest pleasure to journey. He wishes no 
 other route. By living as he did, Enoch was led 
 directly into the presence of the God whom he 
 served, for the record adds: "He was not; for God 
 took him" (Gen. v., 24). 
 
 It may be added that even our Saviour made no 
 effort to explain the full meaning of the phrase 
 "oneness with Him." Briefly He says: "If any 
 man willeth to do His will, he shall know of the 
 teaching" (John vii., 17). In His conception it is 
 something to be learned as a result of Christian 
 experience, and so far as we now know, it can be 
 learned in no other way. 
 
The Gospel of John 127 
 
 5. Another element of our Christian faith 
 received its first full recorded development at 
 the hands of John. 
 
 The doctrine of the resurrection became a sort 
 of stimibling-block in the early church. This was 
 something that lay wholly outside the hopes and 
 expectations of heathenism. No Gentile prophet 
 or philosopher had ever made this a part of his 
 teaching. The uninspired human intellect, in its 
 wildest flights of imagination, had never soared 
 to the sublime conception here involved. The 
 philosophers of Greece laughed at it, as something 
 too absurd for serious consideration, as soon as 
 Paul mentioned it (Acts xvii., 32). Hence it 
 is not siirprising that among the early converts 
 gathered from heathenism were some who hesi- 
 tated to accept so novel and to them so improbable 
 a doctrine or belief. Some in the Corinthian 
 church, in the days of Paul, denied it outright 
 (I. Cor. XV., 12). Others took the view that a 
 spiritual resurrection was meant — a resurrection 
 of the soul from moral death to a heavenly life — 
 and that, as to each individual convert, such a 
 resurrection was already past (II. Tim. ii., 18). 
 
 Paul, of course, controverted this heresy with 
 his usual emphasis and vigor, but solely on the au- 
 thority of the revelation made to himself. That 
 is, he did not cite against it any oral declara- 
 tion or teaching of the Master. Possibly he did 
 not know of any. Whether this heresy continued 
 to exist in the church down to the end of the 
 
128 The Gospel of John 
 
 century does not positively appear, but if we may 
 surmise that it did, then the appositeness of John's 
 citation of the Master's words (John v., 25-29), 
 not previously reported, will be at once apparent. 
 The other Gospel writers had preserved His 
 revelation as to the fact of a resurrection, but had 
 said nothing directly as to what it would consist 
 of or how it would occur. John recalled and re- 
 corded what the others had passed over in silence 
 — that in this resurrection the graves would be 
 opened, and that something belonging to the 
 personahty of the buried person would come forth. 
 This citation settled the question for the church 
 from that time onward. The predicted resurrec- 
 tion was not past ; neither did a moral resurrection 
 satisfy its requirements. 
 
 The modern church has gone to the other 
 extreme, in teaching as an article of faith **the 
 resurrection of the body'' — a doctrine not found 
 in the New Testament. 
 
 From these and a few other considerations of 
 like kind, I infer that the fourth Gospel was not 
 written (as the others were) by way of general 
 setting forth of the Hfe, works, and teachings of 
 Jesus, but rather as a special presentation of John's 
 matured conception of Him — who and what He 
 was — with special reference to the practical wants 
 and needs of the deteriorating church as it existed 
 about the end of the first century, and thus in order 
 to answer or refute the pernicious practices and 
 heresies then threatening its existence. And to 
 
The Gospel of John 129 
 
 quite a large extent he accomplished his purpose. 
 The Gnostic heresy died out long ago. The Arian 
 heresy has its few survivors among the adherents 
 of the Unitarian church. The resurrection heresy 
 has not been heard of for centiuies. Idolatrous 
 and licentious practices, except where the super- 
 stitions of the Middle Ages still survive, have been 
 driven out. But the church has yet to get back to 
 the ''first love" that pervaded the earliest converts 
 and also has yet to learn to realize in the lives of 
 its individual members, what the Master meant 
 by oneness with Him. 
 
PETER 
 
 Peter was a fisherman, not of the leisurely, 
 contemplative, Waltonian kind, but one who 
 fished for a living. He had a wife and a mother- 
 in-law to support (Luke iv., 38), also a home to 
 provide for, though whether he owned or rented 
 it does not appear. Nothing is said of his having 
 children, but a Hebrew family without at least 
 one child (except through bereavement) was rare. 
 Of his personal appearance we know nothing 
 even by a reliable tradition. It is doubtful if he 
 had accumulated much property; if he had, it is 
 still more doubtful if he entrusted any of it to the 
 apostolic treasurer, Judas Iscariot, who received 
 and disbursed — or confiscated (John xii., 6) — the 
 scanty charities given to the mendicant band. 
 Several years after the Crucifixion Peter's wife 
 was still living, and accompanied him at times on 
 his missionary tours (I. Cor. ix., 5). Though 
 evidently possessed of good natural abilities, he 
 had no education be3^ond that which every Jewish 
 peasant boy received (Acts iv., 13), and this rarely 
 extended beyond the ability to read and write 
 the Aramaic dialect of everyday life, with a more 
 or less general knowledge of Old Testament history, 
 
 130 
 
Peter 131 
 
 of the forms of Jewish worship, and of the require- 
 ments of the Jewish faith. Peter's Epistles show 
 that later in life he became familiar with Greek 
 and probably with Latin, the official language of 
 Rome (Acts x.). But dtiring his early Hfe he 
 belonged to the class for whom the high ecclesias- 
 tical authorities of Judaism had nothing but 
 curses and contempt (John vii., 49). 
 
 Peter was one of the original Twelve; that is, 
 one of those who were first called to follow the 
 Master. It has been generally assumed, contrary 
 to the record as I read it, that the Twelve consti- 
 tuted practically an unchangeable body ; that with 
 the single exception of Judas Iscariot that body 
 continued to the end as at first composed. The 
 name of at least one other of the original twelve, 
 Lebbaeus or Thaddaeus (Matt, x., 3), disappears 
 in the subsequent history, and his place is taken 
 by Jude, who, with James the Less, was a son of 
 Alph^us (Luke vi., 15; R. V. marg.). The idea 
 generally accepted that these are different names 
 of the same person is a pure theory, is against 
 probability, and has no historical support. And 
 the same is equally true of the supposed identity 
 of Nathanael and Bartholomew. This is purely 
 a supposition, without a particle of proof to support 
 it. 
 
 For some reason not stated in the record, 
 perhaps by seniority or age, or perhaps by natural 
 temperament, Peter became, on most occasions, 
 the spokesman of the apostoHc band. I would not 
 
132 Peter 
 
 say of him, as is frequently said, that he was 
 especially rash or impulsive ; he was rather what I 
 would call self-reliant, being also quick to decide 
 and prompt to act. Such men are natural leaders 
 in all organizations. He beHeved in himself, and 
 sometimes overbelieved, as the sequel proved. 
 If, during his personal association with the Master, 
 he sometimes was "of little faith" (Matt, xiv., 31), 
 it is not for us to censure him more severely than 
 the Master did, for Messianic faith was then a new 
 plant, quite recently planted in soil not of the best 
 for a rapid growth. But after the Pentecostal 
 descent of the Holy Spirit, the faith then developed 
 in Peter, coupled with the natural self-reliance of 
 his manhood, easily made him the first among his 
 peers, and one of the three, who, under the name 
 of Cephas, presently attained the name and rank 
 of "pillars" in the apostolic church (Gal. ii., 9). 
 His discourses, as reported by Luke (Acts ii., 
 14-40; iii., 12-26, etc.), are models of bold, lofty, 
 and fervid eloquence, supported by compact 
 argument. They express in brief terms the great 
 essential ideas of salvation, persuasively illustrated 
 from prophecy, and convincingly driven home to 
 the hearts and consciences of his hearers. These 
 facts lead fairly to the inference that he was natur- 
 ally a born leader of men, and that in his dull and 
 toilsome occupation of fisherman his opportunities 
 for leadership had not equaled his abilities. 
 
 Notwithstanding his faults and defects, Peter 
 was one of the three selected by the Master to be 
 
Peter i33 
 
 the chief recipients of His personal confidence. 
 They only were permitted to witness the glory of 
 His wonderful transfiguration (Matt, xvii., 1-13). 
 They were also the selected watchmen on whom He 
 relied to warn Him of the approach of His expected 
 betrayer at the time of His agony in Gethsemane 
 (Matt, xxvi., 37). At the healing of Jairus's 
 daughter, no others were allowed to be present 
 (Mark v., 37). No reason is assigned for this 
 choice, but Jesus, the Master, undoubtedly knew 
 His men (John ii., 25). They were probably 
 ' ' the pick of the flock. * ' Their subsequent history 
 would indicate as much. With the exception of 
 Matthew (in his Gospel) and Jude (in his Epistle), 
 the other nine have left no record or known memo- 
 rial of their subsequent lives or labors. Of the 
 three. James was an early victim of Herod's 
 brutality (Acts xii. , 2) . To John was entrusted the 
 double honor of closing the New Testament canon 
 (Rev. xxii., 18, 19) and of being the last to await, 
 in an earthly life, the second coming of the Master 
 (John xxi., 22). The subsequent life and labors 
 of Peter show that the Master's confidence in him 
 was not wholly misplaced, and that he was entitled 
 to rank as the coequal of the other two in the 
 honors and work of the new kingdom of heaven. 
 In making our estimate of the man, his denial of 
 the Master should not be passed by. For once 
 his self-reliance failed him, and it was a sad and a 
 grievous failure — but was it a surprising failure? 
 He was at that time a comparative stranger in 
 
134 Peter 
 
 Jerusalem; it was not his home; he had been there 
 but seldom, probably once a year, and then only a 
 short time; the high priest and his august court 
 were to him the objects of overwhelming awe, for 
 they represented the invincible authority and ma- 
 jesty of the great Jehovah; the Roman soldiery 
 who made the arrest were subjects of terror, since, 
 being generally brutal themselves, they also stood 
 for the brutal and domineering power of Rome 
 (Luke xiii., i); Peter himself was nothing but a 
 peasant fisherman of the despised province of 
 semi-heathen Galilee; the drift of adverse feeling 
 against the GaHlean Jesus and all his followers 
 ran high that awful night; even the servants and 
 waiting-maids of the palace joined eagerly in the 
 ** mad-dog" cry against Him and them, so that 
 when they sneeringly and contemptuously asked 
 Peter, "Art thou too a Galilean, and a follower 
 of this deceiver of the people?" the load was too 
 heavy for him to carry, and he broke down. 
 Would you or I, being what he then was, and amid 
 such surroundings, have done better? 
 
 It is no answer to all this to say that John was 
 faithful and stood by his Master during the events 
 of that awful night, and that Peter might equally 
 well have done so. For, as John himself tells us, 
 he did not enter the palace of the high priest as a 
 total stranger; in fact, the high priest knew him 
 personally (John xviii., i6). For this or some 
 other reason, John was evidently less impressed, 
 overawed, or terrified by the unexpected surround- 
 
Peter 135 
 
 ings and proceedings. His actions show that he 
 was enough at home to think of himself, to think 
 of the Master, and to think also of Peter, whom he 
 recognized in the crowd outside the gate, and that 
 he had enough influence to secure Peter's admission 
 notwithstanding the probable orders to exclude 
 the Galilean friends of Jesus. Hence, in respect 
 of Peter's denial, it is hardly fair to judge him by 
 the standard of John's fidelity. 
 
 Nor should Peter be singled out, as is usually 
 done, as being, next after Judas, the chief sinner 
 of the apostoHc band. The rest, except John, 
 deserted Jesus entirely (Matt, xxvi., 56). Peter 
 was the only one to resist by force the outrage of 
 the betrayal and arrest (John xviii., 10), and he was 
 evidently the only one who ventured to show his 
 face that night at the palace gate. The rest 
 disappear from sight and history till after Jesus 
 was dead and buried and the immediate danger 
 to them was past. While these facts constitute 
 no extenuation of Peter's sin, they show that even 
 in those hours of extreme peril his self-reliant 
 courage was not entirely gone, and exceeded that 
 of any of the remaining nine. 
 
 If not surprising, it is at least noticeable that 
 many of our modern religious teachers are more 
 severe in dealing with Peter's shortcomings than 
 was the Master Himself. With marked gentleness 
 and even tenderness, Jesus uniformly dealt with 
 the errors and defects of this, the chief est of His 
 followers. (See Matt, xiv., 31, 32; John xxi., 
 
136 Peter 
 
 15-19, etc.) Only once, so far as our records 
 show, did Jesus speak to Peter with apparent sever- 
 ity (Mark viii., 32, 33), and here, I apprehend, the 
 severity is more apparent than real. The phrase 
 "Get thee behind me, Satan" was probably an 
 everyday proverb in common use (and we still 
 hear it used occasionally) and, as then used by 
 Jesus, was intended to convey the idea that Peter's 
 expostulations could be of no avail and need not 
 be repeated. Certainly Jesus could not have ap- 
 plied to His chief apostle, in its literal significa- 
 tion, the name of the Evil One. Such language, 
 with such a meaning, would have involved in 
 Jewish thought the grossest possible discourtesy; 
 and it pleases me to think of Jesus, not only as the 
 Son of God, but also as a perfect man, and hence 
 an ideal gentleman in speech as well as in act. He 
 once denounced, with furious invective, a like char- 
 acterization of Himself by his enemies (Matt, xii., 
 24-32). To my mind it is simply incredible, at 
 least in the absence of convincing proof to the con- 
 trary, that He should have literally appHed to His 
 strongest and one of His most faithful adherents 
 an opprobrious epithet such as He would not allow 
 His bitterest enemies to apply to Him. Jesus of 
 Nazareth was not, in my apprehension of Him, 
 that kind of a man. 
 
 For some twelve or fourteen years after the 
 ascension Peter devoted himself actively and 
 vigorously, and with great success, to the preaching 
 of the new reHgion, for the most part to his own 
 
Peter I37 
 
 countrymen in the cities and villages of Judaea, as 
 narrated with some detail in the Book of Acts, 
 but going once as far as Samaria (Acts viii., 14-17). 
 The power of the Holy Spirit rested with him to a 
 remarkable degree, and the many miracles which 
 he wrought in the name of the Master made an 
 impression second only to those of the Master 
 Himself (Acts iii., 1-9; v., 12-16; ix., 26-42, etc.)- 
 His escape from the power of Herod by angelic 
 interposition was equally memorable (Acts xii., 
 1-9). The narrative of these events is the most 
 convincing proof of the power of the man in the 
 new work, as well as of the sincerity of his conse- 
 cration to that work ; and we doubt not that to him 
 these events were an abundant assurance that the 
 new kingdom to the establishment of which he 
 gave his remaining years would, as Daniel had 
 foretold, "never be destroyed" (Dan. ii., 44). 
 His self-reliance, backed up by faith in its success, 
 never deserted him again. 
 
 During these years, the power of the new 
 religion began to be felt among the Gentiles. 
 Christian churches were established at an early 
 date outside of Judaism, notably in Samaria 
 (Acts viii., 14) and Antioch (Acts xiii., i). If 
 Peter were then, as he seems to have been, the 
 primate of the apostolic college, he presumably 
 would have taken the supervision of these Gentile 
 churches, as well as of the Palestinian churches 
 composed of converts from Judaism. Unfor- 
 tunately, however, he seems to have been so 
 
138 Peter 
 
 thoroughly pervaded with the prevalent Jewish 
 prejudice against Gentile contamination that he 
 could give to the Gentile movement but little more 
 than a bare toleration. He thrice boasted, in 
 answer to what he recognized as a voice from 
 heaven, of his Pharisaic purity (Acts x., 13-16). 
 He had no use, not even in the Master's service, 
 for anything which, tried by the ceremonial stand- 
 ard of Judaism, was ''common and unclean" — 
 and such were the Gentiles in his eyes. And 
 though as a result of the miraculous vision, he 
 temporarily accepted the new revelation that in 
 God's sight those of the Gentiles who feared Him 
 and wrought righteousness (Acts x., 35) were no 
 longer to be counted as "common and unclean," 
 it still appears that as a rule by which to govern his 
 own apostolic work he could not, or at least did 
 not, adopt it. With apparent wilHngness, he 
 turned over to Paul the entire field of Gentile 
 work (Gal. ii., 9), and so far as extant records 
 show, he never resumed it, nor made any effort or 
 claim in that direction. His right of primacy, 
 at least among the Gentile churches (of which we 
 are part), ended then and there. We hear of 
 him once afterward at Antioch, but his Jewish 
 prejudices were too strong for his Christianity, 
 and he was publicly and severely rebuked for his 
 non-Christian bigotry by one who in the Gentile 
 churches, possessed and exercised an authority 
 greater than his (Gal. ii., 11-14). If, in respect 
 of Gentile Christianity, any one was entitled in 
 
Peter 139 
 
 the apostolic age, to claim or exercise the authority 
 incident to primacy, that man was Paul and not 
 Peter. As to that fact, the record is clear. 
 
 In regard to the question of primacy in the 
 church, it seems reasonably clear that Peter was 
 the primate among the Twelve, and that such 
 primacy received the approval of the Master; the 
 episode of the rock and keys apparently means 
 as much (Matt, xvi., 18, 19). The Biblical records 
 alsa seem to indicate that for a few years following 
 the ascension, he acted as primate of the new 
 churches in Palestine. It also clearly appears that 
 therein he was afterward superseded by James, a 
 brother of our Lord and not one of the Twelve, 
 but by what authority is not known (Acts xii., 17; 
 XV., 13; xxi., 18, etc.). After that, his primacy, 
 if he held any, was apparently limited to the 
 churches which grew up among the Jews of the 
 dispersion — that is, among the Jews scattered 
 about through the Roman Empire, and most 
 numerous in the cities of Asia Minor (I. Pet. i., i). 
 But I do not find, either in the Bible or outside of 
 it, that Peter ever was granted, or claimed to hold, 
 or tried to exercise, any authority as primate (or 
 pope) over any Gentile church, and still less over 
 the Gentile churches at large, or that he was 
 granted, or claimed to possess, or tried to exercise 
 in or over any church whatever any right of pri- 
 macy which was divinely authorized or directed 
 to be transferred to any ecclesiastical successor 
 of his. 
 
140 Peter 
 
 When, through the power of divine grace 
 working in the hearts of men, a church shall arise 
 which shall include in its fold the entire body of 
 genuine believers on the face of the earth, I have 
 no doubt that it may (if it so choose), under 
 divine guidance and authority, elect or select a 
 primate, a patriarch, or a pope, and that its power 
 (not his) will be practically unlimited in all matters 
 of faith and morals. But such a church, called 
 in the Apostles' Creed "The Holy Catholic 
 Church," is at present non-existent, except as an 
 ideal. The sectarian divisions in "the body of 
 Christ" which Paul so vehemently condemned 
 (I. Cor. i., 12, 13; iii., 4-7) are now the rule, have 
 been for centuries, and seem likely to be for a 
 long time to come. "When the Son of man 
 cometh, shall He find faith on the earth?" (Luke 
 xviii., 8.) 
 
 As incidental to some of the matters above 
 referred to, it may be added that questions of 
 official name and ecclesiastical rank were not 
 regarded as of much importance in the church in 
 apostolic days. Paul's right to the title of apostle, 
 though he was not one of the Twelve, is univer- 
 sally admitted. James, "the Lord's brother,'* 
 who, at least during the earlier days of Christ's 
 ministry, was an unbeliever (John vii., 5) ranked 
 as an apostle (Gal. i., 19). So also did Barnabas 
 (Acts xiv., 14) ; and it seems probable that Androni- 
 cus and Junias were similarly styled (Rom. xvi., 
 7). Evidently these matters were bound by no 
 
Peter 141 
 
 hard and fast lines. On the other hand, Peter, 
 in addressing the elders of the churches of the 
 dispersion, was pleased to call himself their ''fellow- 
 elder" (I. Pet. v., i). 
 
 Our present rigidity in respect of ecclesiastical 
 rank was evidently unknown in the apostolic era 
 of church history. The ''elders" of Acts xx., 17, 
 are called "bishops" in xx., 28. 
 
 Of Peter's subsequent life we know but little 
 outside of what we can gather from his epistles, 
 but from them we may fairly infer that he labored 
 diHgently and effectively for the residue of his 
 life among the Jews of the dispersion, chiefly in 
 the region we now know as Asia Minor, and more 
 particularly in its central and northern provinces. 
 His first epistle is specifically so addressed (I. 
 Pet. i., i). His second epistle was written for the 
 same readers (II. Pet. iii., i). These epistles, 
 written in his old age, indicate that the self-reliant 
 zeal of his earlier years had become toned down 
 into something approaching the gentle tenderness of 
 John. But he also exhibits a masterly grasp of 
 the truths of revelation, and a vsingular clearness, 
 beauty, and force in presenting them. Some 
 Gentiles had been gathered in, and as to them, his 
 old antipathy was gone (I. Pet. iv., 3). But not 
 even yet was he ready to accept the whole of Paul's 
 gospel (II. Pet. iii., 15, 16). He could not see how 
 it could all be true. Whether Babylon (I. Pet. v., 
 13) means the Chaldean city of that name, or is 
 a metaphorical designation of Rome — as in Rev. 
 
142 Peter 
 
 xviii., 2 — is somewhat uncertain. If the former, 
 as may well be the case, for that city then held 
 a large Jewish population, his missionary labors 
 extended nearly or quite to the ancestral home of 
 his race. But if the latter be the meaning, it 
 would give support to the old tradition that he 
 suffered death by crucifixion at the hands of Nero 
 about A.D. 68. If so, the prophecy of John xxi., 
 18, 19, was literally fulfilled. But Romans xv., 20, 
 is incompatible with the old tradition that he 
 founded the first Christian church at Rome. 
 
 Early Christian literature, commencing late 
 in the second century A.D., and increasing in 
 amount as the decades went by, abounds with 
 traditional and apocryphal stories of Peter and his 
 life-teachings. Very few of them are worthy of 
 belief, though some may possibly be true; but as 
 the true cannot, with our present knowledge, be 
 separated from the false, the entire body is of no 
 practical value for present purposes. Peter, as 
 the Bible sketches him, is too great to be injured 
 by dubious tradition, and is also great enough to 
 require no enhancement of his memory by doubtful 
 records dating from two to ten centuries after he 
 had gone to his final rest. 
 
THE RESURRECTION: THE FUTURE 
 STATE: MESSIANIC PROPHECY 
 
 In the development of Old Testament religion, 
 these three subjects have certain points of contact 
 which may be profitably studied independently 
 of the subjects themselves. 
 
 Biblical scholars have been greatly puzzled to 
 account for the fact that the doctrine of a general 
 resurrection, and of a future state of rewards and 
 punishments, formed no part of the Mosaic system ; 
 for the fact is, as we shall presently see, that the 
 Old Testament contains no clear revelation thereof 
 imtil more than a thousand years after Moses had 
 rested from his arduous labors. If any of the 
 Old Testament worthies had, prior to the captivity 
 (B.C. 587), any expectation or hope of a resurrec- 
 tion, or of an enjoyable life after death, they cer- 
 tainly failed to transmit to us any clear and 
 unambiguous record of the fact. And the absence 
 of these elements from the original Mosaic system 
 is all the more singular for the reason that the 
 Egyptians, as we learn from their Book of the Dead, 
 had a highly elaborate cultus which included a 
 life after death (though not at that time a resurrec- 
 tion), and a life, too, the character of which was 
 
 143 
 
144 The Resurrection 
 
 believed to depend largely on "the deeds done in 
 the body." Moses, as one ''learned in all the 
 wisdom of the Egyptians" (Acts vii., 22), could 
 not have been ignorant of this feature of the reh- 
 gious system in which, as a prince of Egypt, he had 
 been trained ; nor is it easy to see how a man of his 
 transcendent attainments could have failed to 
 appreciate the possible potency of such a belief 
 in the moral system that he formulated and taught. 
 
 Why, then, did he fail to include it in the record 
 that he left for the guidance of his people? 
 
 The most reasonable explanation hitherto sug- 
 gested, so far as my reading has gone, is based 
 on the following facts: 
 
 The reHgious system of Moses originated prac- 
 tically with what was seen, said, and done at 
 Mount Sinai just after the Exodus. Prior to the 
 wonderful event of that epoch, Jehovah was a 
 name imknown in the annals of the Hebrew race 
 (Ex. vi., 3). 
 
 But on coming to Mount Sinai, they were 
 expressly taught that the Deity who had brought 
 them out of Egypt — then and thereafter known as 
 Jehovah (or Jahve) — had His home or dwelling- 
 place there on the mountain-top, and that the 
 thunderings and lightnings which they then heard 
 and saw were the proofs of His presence. They 
 were also taught that He was so actually and 
 personally there present that their leader Moses 
 had sundry interviews with Him, wherein He made 
 known to them by direct revelation the kind of 
 
The Resurrection 145 
 
 service He required at their hands, as well as the 
 laws or rules of life to which they must conform 
 if they would please Him; and they were further 
 told that if they obeyed Him, He would care for 
 and prosper them in basket and in store, in life and 
 in health ; while, if they disobeyed Him, He would 
 punish them by withholding these promised 
 bounties, and, if need were, by famine, pestilence, 
 and war, even to the extent of wiping them out 
 of existence. He was great and powerful, and 
 therefore could do as He had promised. 
 
 He was just and truthful, so that He being always 
 there present with them, they might rely on it 
 that He would do exactly as He had said. 
 
 In the polytheism of that age — and the people 
 had just given up the polytheistic service of the 
 gods of Egypt (Josh, xxiv., 14) — such a Deity as 
 Jehovah thus described and showed Himself to be 
 was exceedingly desirable; consequently they took 
 up His service, and entered into covenant or 
 contract relations with Him by which they became 
 especially and peculiarly His people, and He 
 became their Deity — their God. 
 
 But when, a year or more later, they proposed to 
 resume their journey to the Promised Land, what 
 then? The idea of divine omnipresence — so 
 prominent a part of our later theology — had not 
 then been born. If Jehovah remained behind at 
 His home on Mount Sinai, how could He be of any 
 aid or benefit to them while off in their desert 
 wanderings, or after reaching their anticipated 
 
146 The Resurrection 
 
 resting-place in Canaan? Obviously, as they 
 looked at it, Jehovah must go along, and the 
 record so represents (Ex. xxiii., 14). A tent at 
 Shiloh, and finally the temple at Jerusalem, be- 
 came His home, and He continued — or so it was 
 thought — to dwell with and in the midst of the 
 tribes for the next nine hundred years, or until 
 the temple was destroyed and the city laid waste 
 by Nebuchadnezzar, B.C. 587. But as it was 
 believed that Jerusalem and the temple were in- 
 vulnerable to human attack so long as Jehovah 
 dwelt there, Ezekiel was constrained to conclude 
 that before the city fell Jehovah had taken His 
 departure (Ezek. x., 18-22). During the captivity, 
 the land remained desolate, that is, empty, for 
 Jehovah had gone. And at its end Ezekiel made 
 known to the returning exiles his vision of the 
 return of Jehovah to the new temple — "and I will 
 dwell in the midst of them for ever" (Ezek. xliii., 
 
 1-9). 
 
 According to Jewish belief, Jehovah continued 
 thereafter to dwell in His temple until the voice 
 of prophecy finally became silent with Malachi. 
 From that time, say about 330 B.C., until the 
 manifestation of the Son of Man, no divine oracle 
 was heard in Judaea — of which fact I will have 
 more to say presently. 
 
 From which it follows that from the institution 
 of the Mosaic system down to the end of the 
 prophetic period (except during the capitivity 
 or exile), and possibly for some little time there- 
 
The Future State 147 
 
 after, the Jews regarded themselves as living in 
 the immediate presence of Jehovah; they beheved 
 that He actually dwelt first in the sacred tent or 
 tabernacle in the wilderness, then at Shiloh, and 
 lastly in the temple at Jerusalem — but always 
 right ''in the midst of them"; that, though in- 
 visible to mortal eyes, the Shekinah indicated His 
 presence ; that accordingly their lives and everyday 
 actions were under His direct personal supervision ; 
 that for their honest service and faithful obedience 
 He gave them then and there their proper reward, 
 and for their disloyalty and disobedience He then 
 and there punished them. Moses had so taught 
 them, and so did the early prophets. Under such 
 beliefs and such teachings, a future state of rewards 
 and punishments, even if revealed, would have 
 had little or no meaning for them. Jehovah 
 could be no closer to them in another world than 
 He was in this. Nor could He have any more 
 power over them there, either to prosper or punish, 
 than He had here. If He rewarded and punished 
 them here, as they fully believed, then He and His 
 law were presumed to be satisfied. It could 
 hardly be supposed that after death He would 
 reward and punish them over again. One punish- 
 ment was enough, and one reward was all they had 
 any right to expect. Consequently they had no 
 sufficient incitement or stimulus to lead them to 
 anticipate or even to desire a future life, and none 
 was revealed, so far as we know. 
 
 Besides all this, the idea, now so common with 
 
148 The Future State 
 
 us, of personal or individual responsibility for 
 wrongs done or sins committed entered but 
 feebly into the apprehension of the Jewish people 
 prior to or about the time of the captivity. In 
 the thought of that day, the nation was the unit, 
 and not the individual. Each person was an 
 integer of value only as he was one of the nation. 
 Hence, logically, it resulted that the nation was 
 generally held responsible for the sins of its 
 individual members. Thus the personal sin of 
 Achan (Josh, vii.) was regarded as the cause of the 
 disastrous defeat of the national army. The loss 
 of the sacred ark, followed by the humiliating 
 domination of the detested PhiHstines, was closely 
 associated with the gross derelictions of Eli and 
 the grosser sins of his sons (I. Sam. ii., 34). And 
 once, when David's ambition got the better of his 
 judgment, Jehovah is represented as visiting a 
 severe but just retribution, not on David himself, 
 as our modem ideas would have demanded, but 
 on the people at large (II. Sam. xxiv.). Such 
 illustrations are of frequent occurrence in their 
 history. But obviously, a nation, as such, could 
 not be punished in a future world, nor rewarded 
 either — at least the Jews never thought of such a 
 thing as possible. No more do we. Consequently 
 a revelation to them of a future state of rewards 
 and punishments for the nation — and it could have 
 meant nothing more — would to them have been 
 practically meaningless. 
 
 And consequently, as a Jew, under such a 
 
The Future State 149 
 
 system or theory of belief, would personall}'- have 
 had no use for a future state, he would have 
 nothing to suggest a resiirrection, nor any con- 
 scious reason for expecting or even desiring one. 
 
 Now, the idea that each individual was himself 
 (instead of the nation) primarily accountable for 
 his own misdeeds, and that he was entitled to or 
 might expect a personal reward for a Hfe conformed 
 to Jehovah's will, though occasionally hinted at by 
 the earlier prophets, was fully and unambiguously 
 set forth for the first time by Ezekiel (chap, xviii.) 
 during the period of the captivity, nearly a thou- 
 sand years after the time of Moses. Until about 
 that time such an idea had not become a fixed or 
 controlling element in Jewish national thought and 
 life. But as soon as this, which was about that 
 time a practically new revelation, became fully 
 apprehended and understood, it was felt that there 
 were hosts of individual wrongs that were never 
 righted or avenged in this world ; and still further, 
 it was noted that the lives of the just were often 
 lives of unmerited privation and suffering, on 
 account of which there ought to be for such persons 
 some future good in store. 
 
 Instinctively a fixed longing arose for another 
 life, personal in its character, in which the wicked 
 would be punished and the righteous would be 
 rewarded. The revelation of Daniel of a resurrec- 
 tion and of a future life soon followed (Dan. xii., 
 1-3), and presently this doctrine became a con- 
 stituent element of the faith of the Jewish church. 
 
150 Messianic Prophecy 
 
 The date of this great revelation cannot now be 
 definitely fixed, but approximately it was some- 
 what more than a thousand years after the time 
 of Moses and about three or four hundred years 
 prior to the beginning of the Christian era. 
 
 Now, while this may not be the real explanation 
 of why Moses made no revelation of a resurrection 
 and a future life, it would at least seem to be a 
 sufficient explanation, and one which is apparently 
 true. How does Messianic prophecy stand related 
 to these facts? 
 
 Commencing with the grossly idolatrous and 
 thoroughly corrupt reign of Manasseh (b.c. 697), 
 the Jewish nation started on a course of policy 
 which could have no other than a fatal result. 
 The prophets, who usually were skilled in politics 
 as well as in rehgion, foresaw and predicted the 
 end — the loss of patriotism ; and a nation which has 
 lost both its rehgion and its patriotism is not 
 worth saving. There could be but one result. 
 The nation, from a race of heroes, as in the days 
 of David and Joab and Jehoshaphat, had degenera- 
 ted into a race of cowards. It only remained to 
 be seen which of the Great Powers of that day — 
 Egypt or Syria or Nineveh or Babylon — would 
 subdue and take it in. Such, in a general way, 
 was the condition of things during the period 
 commencing with the early prophets Hosea and 
 Isaiah, say in the seventh century B.C., and con- 
 tinuing, but each decade growing worse (except 
 for a few years under Josiah) , down to the time of 
 
Messianic Prophecy 151 
 
 Jeremiah, who, in the last chapter of his prophecy, 
 makes record of the calamitous result which for 
 years he had foreseen and against which he had, 
 without avail, given ample warning. The city 
 and temple were destroyed, and the people were 
 carried captive to Bab^don. 
 
 The Jews, in one respect at least, were like 
 ourselves — in times of prosperity they took little 
 or no thought for the future. But as the coming 
 disasters, which finally overwhelmed them, began 
 to cast their shadows before, the prophets saw 
 beyond the darkening gloom a brighter and a 
 better day, which would be ushered in after their 
 calamities had gone by. The nation could not 
 escape the awful punishment which it so richly 
 deserved; but after that was over and past, there 
 was a future of glory still beyond. Out of the 
 promises and assurances thus made grew up the 
 Messianic hope, which, gradually taking shape 
 and form as the years of the captivity went by, 
 became a source of dominant consolation and 
 cheer to the devout followers of Jehovah. If, 
 during the captivity, Jehovah had deserted His 
 temple and abandoned His people to their fate, 
 the royal house of David being involved, as clearly 
 it was, in the general ruin of the nation, Melek- 
 Messiah — a King-Messiah — would assuredly come, 
 combining the divine power of the great Jehovah 
 and the kingly prestige of David to deliver them 
 from their enemies and to establish a kingdom of 
 heaven which should extend throughout all the 
 
152 Messianic Prophecy 
 
 earth and last to the end of time. This is the 
 tinderlying thought in the New Testament song 
 of Zacharias (Luke i., 68-79). 
 
 Such, as I read the history of those ancient days, 
 was the origin of the Messianic hope in the Jewish 
 nation. It, as well as the hope of a resurrection 
 and of a future life, arose out of the calamities 
 that culminated in the destruction of Jerusalem 
 and the exile or captivity of the nation. The 
 necessities of the times created a new exigency in 
 human affairs, and opened the door for a new 
 revelation, which accordingly followed. 
 
 During the time between Ezekiel and Malachi, 
 a period, say, of about 250 years, the idea that 
 Jehovah, though maintaining a sort of earthly 
 residence in Jerusalem, really dwelt in heaven, 
 gradually became a settled part of the beHef of 
 the Jews; but as the prophet continued to be 
 His personal representative, they still regarded 
 themselves as under His direct guidance and 
 control. The Messianic hope, already in existence 
 as above explained, was not forgotten, and in the 
 time of Malachi it met with a new reason for 
 existence, and consequently received a new 
 stimulus. For according to this book, though 
 Jehovah is not represented as again taking His 
 departure from Jerusalem and the temple, He is 
 represented as totally estranged, not only from 
 Israel at large (chap, i.), but from the priests as well 
 (chap, ii.); Jehovah being estranged, what then? 
 
 They must look to the future for relief. The 
 
Messianic Prophecy 153 
 
 Messianic expectation was thereupon revived and 
 re-expressed in more vivid form (chaps, iii. and iv.). 
 According to chapter iii., 16, personal com- 
 munion with Jehovah was lost, so that they who 
 feared Jehovah, instead of speaking with Him 
 or with His prophet, "spake one with another." 
 Still Jehovah was listening and heard it all, but 
 He did not reply. The best that could be hoped 
 for was that the loyalty and devotion of the few 
 who still feared Him would be recorded in His 
 " book of remembrance," so that when at last the 
 hoped-for messenger should come in His name. 
 He would not totally destroy them but would 
 "spare them as a m.an spareth his own son that 
 serveth him" (verse 17). And this expectation, 
 for the next three or four centuries, constituted 
 the sole hope for the nation. But when would it 
 be fulfilled? When would Jehovah's estrangement 
 come to an end? When would He send His 
 messenger, the Messiah, to renew and perpetuate 
 the personal relationships which had once existed 
 when He called Abraham His friend, and talked 
 with Moses face to face? The silence of the sacred 
 oracle after the prophetic office came to an end 
 thus caused a revival of the Messianic hope to 
 which the captivity had given birth — and a 
 revival that lasted until, in view of the wonderful 
 works of Jesus of Nazareth, those who witnessed 
 them exclaimed in glad surprise, " God hath visited 
 His people" (Luke vii., 16). The days of His 
 long estrangement were then over. 
 
154 Messianic Prophecy 
 
 In carrying back the Messianic expectation to a 
 much earlier date, say to the time of Abraham 
 (Gen. xii., 1-3), or to the still earlier time of Noah 
 (Gen. ix., 26, 27), as many very excellent scholars 
 have done, two different ideas have been mixed 
 together — first the idea of great glory and pros- 
 perity to the nation, and through that nation to 
 other nations, which is all that is clearly foretold 
 in the earlier promises, that is, those made to 
 Noah and Abraham ; and the other or second idea 
 that, though Jehovah, on account of their sins 
 would desert or had deserted them, still in the 
 good course of time, and in view of their future 
 repentance, He would come back again, or, not 
 returning in person, would send His servant 
 (Isa. Hi. 13 et seq.) — His messenger (Mai. iii., 
 i), one on whom His spirit should rest, one of the 
 house and lineage of David — Melek-Messiah, 
 Messiah the King. These two ideas of future 
 national prosperity, and of a personal messenger 
 from Jehovah, though generally confused, should 
 be kept distinct. They are different in kind, as 
 well as different in time. 
 
 This latter idea or conception is not disclosed 
 in any record prior to the degeneracy which began 
 with the reign of Manasseh. Deuteronomy xviii., 
 15, contains nothing to the contrary; for, though 
 written in the spirit and power of Moses, and 
 based on Mosaic records and traditions, still the 
 Book of Deuteronomy in its present form belongs 
 probably to about the time of Manasseh; and 
 
Messianic Prophecy 155 
 
 what particular personage, if any, Moses had in 
 mind when originally he wrote this prophecy, 
 is nowhere directly revealed, though Peter finds 
 a fulfillment in Jesus of Nazareth (Acts iii., 22). 
 The prophet Samuel fulfills its requirements. 
 
 Some of our best Biblical scholars tell us that, 
 according to the context, Moses had no particular 
 person in mind, but that in this specific passage, he 
 predicted the continuity in Israel of the prophetic 
 office which he had established — that is to say, 
 after his own death, Jehovah would raise up from 
 the ranks of the people some other prophet who 
 would continue the work which he, when he closed 
 his life on Mount Nebo, was compelled to leave 
 unfinished. Nor does our Saviour's remark 
 (John viii., 56) contain anything to the contrary; 
 for, though Abraham doubtless foresaw the *'day" 
 or time or period of the Son of man, it is not said 
 nor even intimated that he foresaw Him as a 
 personality. Nor yet can we safely argue that 
 the Psalms contain anything to the contrary, for 
 the dates and authors of those which precede the 
 captivity are matters of tradition and inference. 
 The titles to the Psalms are no part of the inspired 
 record, and represent at best only an ancient 
 tradition. At the same time, it is imdoubtedly 
 true that when Jesus of Nazareth completed His 
 earthly ministry, the earlier promises made to 
 Abraham and to Noah, of divine blessings to be 
 conferred on their posterity, received their com- 
 plete fulfillment, but a fulfillment which, so far 
 
156 Messianic Prophecy 
 
 as the record goes, was not dreamed of when those 
 promises were made. So also were fulfilled the 
 later predictions which, revealed and received 
 under the stress of direful calamity and misfortime, 
 pointed directly to Him as a person. All previous 
 history and prediction centered and merged in 
 Him; all subsequent history grows out of what He 
 was, what He said, and what He did (Col. i., 
 15-18). 
 
 The expectation of "a good time coming" 
 which is still vocalized in the songs of to-day, and 
 which finds its highest expression in the antici- 
 pated Millennium, is as old as Abraham and prob- 
 ably much older; the expectation of a personal 
 Messiah was bom many centuries later, and had 
 its origin with and in the same experiences that 
 gave conscious birth to a belief in a future state 
 and a final resurrection. The revelation came 
 when human exigency called for it. "Man's 
 extremity is God's opportunity." 
 
PROTESTANTISM 
 
 It is a striking characteristic of our Western 
 civilization that it never stands still. It is always 
 in motion, and always moves with a certain amount 
 of intelligence — doing or trying to do something 
 new, or something old in a new way; continually 
 developing angular or tangential tendencies of 
 thought, speech, or action in new directions or 
 toward new results; making new or remaking 
 old experiments; retesting old ideas, old plans, old 
 theories, and old systems, not necessarily because 
 they are old, but because for some reason, real or 
 imaginary, they do not happen to suit, or sometimes 
 from a spirit of mere inquisitiveness — much as the 
 boy did who burst in the head of his drum just 
 to see where the noise came from. Looking back 
 we can see that it has, like the boy, sometimes 
 acted foolishly. Occasionally it has kindled a 
 fire in which it got its fingers burnt; but as a 
 general rule its aims and purposes have been good, 
 and seldom wholly bad, though sometimes tinged 
 strongly with selfishness. 
 
 And this spirit, or, rather, determination to 
 reinvestigate everything, retest everything, and, 
 if need be, to revise everything, extends even to 
 
 157 
 
158 Protestantism 
 
 matters of religion. Every truth, religious or 
 otherwise, must square up and fit in with every 
 contiguous or allied truth, and must also fit in with 
 the now existing requirements of humanity; if 
 it does not, something is wrong somewhere. Mis- 
 fits are either thrown away or held for further 
 revision when an increase of knowledge may make 
 the work easier. 
 
 These facts become the more impressive when 
 compared by contrast with the corresponding 
 facts in the civilizations of the remote East, say 
 of China and native India, in neither of which, 
 except as foreign influences have dominated, has 
 there been any material change for a thousand 
 or more years. The more prominent civilizations 
 of Asia, uninfluenced from outside, are as nearly 
 stationar}^ as it is possible for them to be. What- 
 ever is good therein is enjoyed; whatever is bad 
 is accepted as if it were good, and endured without 
 murmur or protest. And this is as true of their 
 religions — the religions of Brahm, Buddh, and 
 Mohammed — as the reverse is true of ours. While 
 these Eastern religions differ somewhat in different 
 countries, the differences are as stable as the like- 
 nesses. 
 
 It is no part of my present purpose to inquire 
 why these things are so. I use them only as a 
 starting-point. 
 
 While it is undoubtedly true that our dominant 
 systems of religion, generally known as Roman 
 Catholic and Protestant, have been largely instru- 
 
Protestantism 159 
 
 mental in making our civilization, and in making 
 it what it is, and while it is equally true that the 
 basic principles of our religious faith are not subject 
 to change by any human agency, it is also a fact 
 that great changes have been made in respect 
 of our understanding or interpretation of these 
 principles, the forms in which they are stated, the 
 relative rank or importance accorded to them, the 
 ways in which they have been embodied in church 
 and other organizations, and applied century after 
 century to the ever-changing necessities, wants, 
 demands, or even whims of the very civilization 
 which they were helping to make. The Roman 
 Catholic Church, for example, which prides itself 
 on its stability, the permanency of its faith and 
 practice, and its universality as well, is and always 
 has been undergoing a process of change, not, it is 
 true, by formally repealing or abrogating any 
 matter of obligation, belief, or dogma once decreed, 
 but rather by silently modifying or quietly drop- 
 ping into ''innocuous desuetude" such elements of 
 belief or practice as have been foimd by experience 
 to be unsuited to its purposes or incapable of 
 enforcement; and also by adding new dogmas, or 
 new interpretations, or new rules of practice as 
 the exigencies of the times might require. The 
 careful student of history scarcely needs to be told 
 that the Roman Catholic Church of to-day is 
 quite different from that of even two or three 
 centuries ago ; and any observant traveler can see 
 the very considerable dissimilarity which exists 
 
i6o Protestantism 
 
 between the Roman Catholic Church of America 
 and that of Central and Southern Europe. That 
 church is a marked victim to change, whatever its 
 votaries may argue to the contrary. Generally 
 it is changing for the better, and in some directions 
 is changing quite as rapidly as the safety of its 
 own organization will permit. 
 
 The same is true of Protestantism and of all its 
 branches, word for word. People made up as we 
 are can no more help changing their systems of 
 religious belief than they can help changing the 
 cut or style of their clothes. When a nation or a 
 people stop thinking, they stop changing — and 
 not till then. 
 
 My present purpose is more particularly to note 
 some of the more prominent tendencies now- 
 observable in the Protestant section of the Church 
 Universal, indicatory of present or possible coming 
 changes, such as are affecting or are liable to affect 
 its manner of life — premising, however, that any 
 such well- developed tendency is fairly good proof 
 of some kind or degree of dissatisfaction with 
 what already is, and a hope or expectation that 
 something better can be found. 
 
 I. Our Western civilization is apparently in 
 serious doubt as to the suitableness or efficiency 
 (or both) of Protestantism as now organized and 
 administered, for suppressing the saloon and the 
 brothel, for relieving the unfortunate and reforming 
 the criminal. 
 
 The organization and work of the Salvation 
 
Protestantism i6i 
 
 Army, the American Volunteers, and our numerous 
 voluntary relief associations and rescue-homes, 
 nearly if not all of which are outside of church 
 control, are a conclusive expression of this doubt. 
 Philanthropists who inaugurate a new and special 
 agency for doing reformatory work, indicate 
 thereby a lack of faith in the already existing 
 agencies to which such work might properly belong. 
 Nor does it help the matter at all that many of 
 the devout adherents of the Protestant faith may 
 be cooperating largely, and sometimes liberally, 
 in aid of these outside agencies, for it indicates 
 a like lack of faith or confidence on the part of 
 Protestants themselves. Loss of faith in one 
 existing institution cannot be shown more sig- 
 nificantly than by the organization of another. 
 When a living stream finds for itself a new channel, 
 the conclusion is obvious that the old channel is 
 dammed up, or is inadequate, or for some other 
 reason is not satisfactory. The currents of reform 
 are, and for some time have been, making new 
 channels for the outflow and onflow of the streams 
 of work, influence, and power which are to aid 
 in the cleansing of humanity. 
 
 Another indication of the same fact lies in the 
 clearly apparent and gradually increasing ten- 
 dency to invoke the aid of legislation in the carrying 
 on of that reformatory work which involves the 
 promotion of public morals. Religious forces are 
 properly regarded as especially appropriate and 
 efficient in the field of moral reform; and when 
 
l62 Protestantism 
 
 these forces become so far reduced in amount, or 
 so ineffective in results, that religious men and 
 women turn in apparent alarm, as they are now 
 doing, to invoke political aid, such action on their 
 part is strongly confirmative of the conclusion 
 that religion is on the decline. Legislation is an 
 excellent adjunct in restraining or temporarily 
 suppressing the comparatively small portion of 
 our population which is really vicious; but the 
 great majority of our saloon-keepers, and many of 
 their patrons as well, are not vicious. For the 
 purpose of controlling the non-vicions class, if 
 moral agencies are weak, legislation is weaker still. 
 If the salt of good morals has lost its savor, society 
 cannot be saved, nor can men, otherwise inclined, 
 be led into the ways of righteous living by an act 
 of Assembly, nor by a hundred such acts. 
 
 2. I feel at least reasonably safe in formulating 
 the conclusion qmte generally prevalent that 
 Protestantism is steadily losing (if it has not 
 already lost) its hold on that very numerous class 
 who live by the fruits of their own manual labor, 
 the class of employees including mechanics and 
 laborers generally, and small tradesmen or shop- 
 keepers. 
 
 As to these people, it begins to look very much 
 as if Protestantism were a failure. Such people 
 are chiefly congregated in our mining, lumbering, 
 and maniifacturing districts, and in our cities. 
 As to the miners, lumbermen, and factory hands, 
 they are left for the most part to take care of 
 
Protestantism 163 
 
 themselves. Such efforts as are made in their 
 behalf are usually feeble or spasmodic, and merely 
 amoimt to enough to satisfy temporarily the 
 occasional twinges of an outraged conscience. In 
 the cities, our Protestant churches have practically 
 become religious club-houses for the especial, if not 
 exclusive, use of members and their families. Our 
 Christian Endeavor and other kindred organiza- 
 tions expend their best efforts in the cultivation 
 of individual piety in their own membership. 
 Beyond what is meet, they are becoming mutual- 
 admiration societies. People of the classes above 
 referred to, usually included in the comprehensive 
 phrases, "the common people" and ''the lower 
 classes," are found in oiu* city Protestant churches 
 in exceedingly small and gradually lessening num- 
 bers, and apparently cannot be induced to come 
 to them. And the amount of religion they have at 
 home is not visibly on the increase. 
 
 This particular evil has long been recognized, 
 and repeated efforts have been made to ''bring 
 them in." Methodism in its origin had this for 
 one of its aims — to reach and save the common 
 people — and for a hundred years or so it was run 
 on those lines, and with marvelous success. But 
 for the last half-century, it has been changing by a 
 slow process of degeneracy into a close assimilation 
 to the other branches of Protestantism, until now, 
 in respect of the feature or element here in question, 
 the difference is small. It has become much like 
 unto the rest of us. The Moody movement 
 
1 64 Protestantism 
 
 involved also an effort to reach the churchless 
 masses. For a time they came to Moody's 
 preaching in immense crowds — much as, when 
 John the Baptist began his wonderful work, there 
 ''went out unto him Jerusalem, and all Judaea, 
 and all the region round about Jordan" (Matt. 
 iii., 5). But in his later years Moody allowed 
 himself to be persuaded to walk along the well- 
 beaten trails of orthodox Protestantism, so that 
 his early work, Hke that of the Wesleys, though 
 some of its fruits remain, is now scarcely more than 
 a memory, or a part of the history of unrealized 
 expectations. Protestantism has changed by 
 degeneracy until ''the common people" and "the 
 lower classes" care nothing for it, and but very 
 little for the Gospel it professes to teach. The 
 exceptions are barely enough in number to prove 
 the rule. The causes of the change need not be 
 enumerated; they will readily be seen by those 
 who really wish to find them. 
 
 Mormonism is in part a substantial protest 
 against the indifference which Protestantism has 
 shown toward the common or working people, 
 especially during the last half -century ; for, con- 
 trary to the general impression, the real strength 
 of Mormonism lies, not in its religion, but in the 
 fact that it is largely a social and industrial organi- 
 zation, and as completely so, though in a some- 
 what different way, as were the Economites in 
 Pennsylvania in the days of their numerical and 
 financial prosperity. Mormonism, in substance, 
 
Protestantism 165 
 
 embraces not only a religious union, but a social 
 union, a labor union, and a commercial union as 
 well. The Mormon Church sees to it that every 
 adult member able to work is provided with a 
 means of livelihood, and that his or her spiritual 
 interests are looked after also. Those not able 
 to work are systematically provided for. It is 
 doubtful if labor is anywhere so well-organized 
 as by that despotic church, and every producer 
 is provided with a market. Their polygamous 
 system enables them to take care of the surplus 
 female population for whom remunerative em- 
 ployment cannot otherwise be found. All are 
 thus provided for, and, so far as surface indications 
 show, are reasonably happy in the present world 
 and well-contented as regards their prospects in 
 the next. Possibly Protestantism might learn 
 something by knowing Mormonism better. 
 
 3. The failure of Protestantism to maintain 
 (except theoretically) the high standard of spirit- 
 uality which the Reformers originally put into 
 it — God dwelling in man and man in Him, whereby 
 man grows into a oneness with Him — even if not 
 otherwise apparent, would seem to be proved by 
 the sudden rise and rapid growth of the Christian 
 Science sect, one chief article of whose creed is the 
 identity of God with that which in man is good. 
 This is a step, and a long step, in the direction of 
 that oneness with Him which is the final aim and 
 result of the Gospel of Christ as John understood 
 and explained it. I think that the Christian 
 
1 66 Protestantism 
 
 Science conception of this article of their faith is 
 somewhat crude and decidedly hazy, but if 
 apprehended and lived by Christian Scientists 
 in form and substance as John sets it forth in his 
 Gospel, it may ultimately become an arrow which 
 will reach one of the defective joints of the Protes- 
 tant armor (I. Kings xxii., 34); and if it does, 
 the Protestant Church will be likely to suffer for 
 its falling away from the high standard of the 
 primitive faith. 
 
 I do not wish to magnify Christian Science, but 
 still I cannot help regarding it as a dangerous 
 protest against our Protestant neglect of that 
 particular phase of Christianity which is developed 
 in John's Gospel. For while it is largely a system 
 of highly seductive error, it still embraces a 
 considerable percentage of very plausible truth. 
 Its theory of visible nature substantially conforms 
 to the Buddhist doctrine of illusion — that all 
 visible things are "Maya," illusion. Its good in 
 man is approximately the ''karma" theory or 
 doctrine of Buddhism, though considerably 
 tinctured with Christian sentiment. By an un- 
 scholarly but colorable misreading of the Bible, 
 it has evolved and adopted a perverted conception 
 of the divine Being. To the conglomerate thus 
 formed, it has added a semi-realistic, but not 
 wholly erroneous, interpretation of the fourth 
 Gospel. To this also it has added a mystical 
 theory of "health and disease," the greater part 
 of which it borrowed from the " faith-curers, " 
 
Protestantism 167 
 
 but which probably contains more truth than we 
 Protestants are willing to admit (though sooner 
 or later we shall have to) ; and which, still further, 
 as it appeals violently to the imagination and to 
 our natural love of the marvellous, is an element of 
 power, especially among the credulous and weak 
 thinkers — classes, by the way, that include the 
 large majority of mankind. By this unification of 
 God and Good, Christian Science has made 
 especially prominent in the spiritual life of its 
 devout adherents an element of faith — oneness 
 with God — which the Protestant churches have 
 practically (though not theoretically) relegated 
 from a primary to a subordinate place in their 
 compendiuni of religious truth. In this respect 
 Protestantism has made a serious mistake — 
 a change for the worse — which, if not corrected, 
 is liable sooner or later to prove fatal. 
 
 4. Among the intellectual and moral forces 
 that are now guiding the development of our 
 civilization, there appears to be a growing doubt 
 as to whether the Protestant Church occupies an 
 impregnable position in holding that the final 
 authority in all matters of duty and obligation 
 is an infallible Bible and nothing else. 
 
 The Roman CathoHc holds to an infallible 
 Bible as, and only as, interpreted and supplement- 
 ed by an infallible church or by an infallible Pope 
 when speaking ex cathedra in matters of faith or 
 morals. 
 
 Which is correct? Or is either correct? 
 
1 68 Protestantism 
 
 I do not propose just now to discuss these 
 questions, or either of them, but only to call 
 attention to certain phases of the Protestant side 
 of the case. 
 
 (i) For the most part, Protestantism has 
 been forced to abandon its old theory of verbal 
 inspiration, for the facts will not sustain it. In 
 lieu thereof, it adopted and theoretically at least 
 still holds to a theory of "plenary" inspiration, of 
 which more presently. 
 
 At the same time, the old theory of verbal 
 inspiration is still stoutly maintained by many. 
 Moody adopted and clung to it to the last. The 
 Mormon Church believes and teaches it. Practi- 
 cally our Second Adventists and premillenarians 
 also hold to it, at least so far as relates to matters 
 of eschatology. And many individual believers 
 of profound piety refuse to give it up; but other- 
 wise, the general consensus of scholarly opinion 
 among our best Biblical critics is to the effect 
 above stated. 
 
 (2) There is, however, a section of orthodox 
 Protestantism of high learning and scholarship, 
 which, on account of numerous well-established 
 errors in the oldest and best of the known texts, 
 have adopted the theory of the infallibility or 
 "inerrancy of the original manuscripts" — that 
 is to say, even if the present Biblical text is not 
 infallible, the original manuscripts were. But 
 as the original manuscripts cannot be referrred to 
 for the purpose of verification, the theory has 
 
Protestantism 169 
 
 found but a limited acceptance; and I mention it 
 only as illustrative of how Protestantism is rest- 
 lessly moving in certain quarters, with uneasy 
 and somewhat uncertain steps, in an effort to 
 correct errors of which it is now becoming un- 
 pleasantly conscious. 
 
 (3) "Plenary" inspiration is differently de- 
 fined by different Biblical scholars. In fact, it is 
 one of those phrases which, on account of the 
 tmcertainty of its meaning, is used to cover a 
 considerable divergence of belief. Generally it is 
 imderstood to include the infallibility of the record 
 in respect of the particular fact, thought, or truth 
 expressed, but not of the particular form of 
 statement employed in the expression of it. 
 
 This theory is still maintained, nominally at 
 least, by a considerable majority of those who 
 adhere to the Protestant faith. 
 
 (4) But this theory is vigorously assailed 
 as untenable, and largely for the same reasons 
 which led to the general abandonment of the 
 "verbal" theory. In Heu of it, there is asserted 
 the inspiration and infallibility of the Biblical 
 record in respect of all matters of faith and morals, 
 including therein aH matters of divine revelation 
 both as to this world and the next ; all matters of 
 moral obligation on the part of man to or toward 
 his Maker and his fellow-man — telling him how to 
 live and how to die and how to live hereafter — and 
 also including a history of the dealings of divine 
 Providence with certain individual men, and with 
 
170 Protestantism 
 
 certain portions or sections of humanity. Under 
 this theory history as history and science as science 
 in the Biblical record are not regarded as inspired, 
 nor the record itself as infallible; though subject 
 to the unavoidable errors which even the best and 
 best-informed men will make, the history is to be 
 taken as correct and the science as the best that 
 the writers could have known. ^ 
 
 I have briefly stated these general theories in 
 the order of their development, merely to illustrate 
 the fact that even our Protestant faith is involved 
 in the universal and ever-continuing movement of 
 our Western civilization, is changing with it and 
 being changed by it. Its theories or postulates 
 are undergoing continual re-examination and re- 
 vision, not usually in an unfriendly spirit, but 
 generally for the purpose of getting at the truth; 
 for the old proverb, Magna est Veritas et prcevalebit, 
 
 ^ Two facts, casually picked up, may illustrate the difficulty 
 experienced by our Biblical scholars in dealing with the subject 
 of inspiration: 
 
 1. The learned Lord Bishop of Ripon, in his valuable Intro- 
 duction to "The Temple Bible," freely admits his inability to 
 state in words what he understands inspiration to mean. Thus 
 (p. 84) he says: 
 
 "I confess that I know no satisfactory definition either of 
 Inspiration or Revelation. I have looked through many treatises ; 
 I have met with many attempted definitions; but none are really 
 adequate." 
 
 2. Dr. De Witt, in a most excellent manual entitled What is 
 Inspiration? (Randolph, 1893) formulates a definition (pp. 163- 
 164) two hundred words in length. Such a definition requires a 
 commentary for its comprehension; and that is really what his 
 book is. 
 
Protestantism 171 
 
 is not a mere ''glittering generality," but a 
 basic fact in the divine administration of the 
 universe. 
 
 While Protestantism is the latest and, up to the 
 present time, represents probably the best evolu- 
 tion of Christianity, there is still room within its 
 precincts for a radical reformation, for it does not 
 embody in any practical sense the most perfect 
 attainable results. 
 
 In the Greek and Roman Catholic churches, the 
 Church of England, and its off-shoot the Protes- 
 tant-Episcopal Church of America, the dominant 
 element of religion is a ritual. In the Protestant 
 and Reformed churches generally, it is a creed. 
 In the church of the future, it will be righteousness, 
 and a kind and degree of righteousness (Rom. i., 
 17, 18; iii., 21; ix., 30; X., 6; Phil, iii., 9, etc.) 
 which will end our present wranglings about 
 rituals and creeds, and in lieu thereof will give 
 dominance to: 
 
 ''Whatsoever things are true, 
 
 "Whatsoever things are honorable, 
 
 "Whatsoever things are just, 
 
 "Whatsoever things are pure, 
 
 "Whatsoever things are lovely, 
 
 "Whatsoever things are of good report" (Phil, 
 iv., 8). 
 
 A reHgion whose dominant feature is righteous- 
 ness is what the world needs just now. 
 
 Protestantism may live if it corrects its own 
 errors and defects; otherwise our civilization will 
 
172 Protestantism 
 
 reject it and throw it away. But if it dies, as it 
 yet may, we can rest assured that it will be succeed- 
 ed by something truer — and therefore something 
 better. 
 
LOST BELIEFS 
 
 There are a number of things taught in the 
 Scriptures which we of the Protestant faith ig- 
 nore and practically reject. Being authoritatively 
 taught once, they were either believed or taught 
 in order that they might be believed, and hence for 
 convenience I term them ''Lost Beliefs." 
 
 I. In Hebrews i., 14, it is clearly indicated that 
 one of the normal, ordinary duties of angelic beings 
 is to help those of us who are trying to follow along 
 the way that leads to eternal life ; and the interroga- 
 tory form of the passage distinctly implies that 
 such was then the belief of the writer and of those 
 to or for whom he wrote. It was so well under- 
 stood that there was no doubt about it. Since 
 they all beHeved it, the writer had only to remind 
 them of the fact. 
 
 The agency of spirits, or spiritual agency in the 
 promotion of righteousness among men, is, in our 
 modem religious teaching, confined to the office 
 and work of the Holy Spirit. Practically our 
 faith is centered on this as the only power outside 
 ourselves that "makes for righteousness"; so 
 that when we invoke divine aid in behalf of our 
 infirmities and shortcomings, we rarely, if ever, 
 think of any other aid than that of the Holy Spirit. 
 
 173 
 
174 Lost Beliefs 
 
 But for thus limiting our conceptions we have no 
 Biblical authority. On the other hand, in the 
 passage above cited, we are plainly told, not as a 
 new revelation, but as something then generally 
 taught and believed by the Christian converts 
 from Judaism, that angelic beings — all of them — 
 have it as their proper and ordinary work, to aid 
 those of us who are earnestly striving for better 
 lives here and for immortal lives hereafter. 
 
 And this being true, why should it not still be so 
 taught and believed? And why may we not in 
 prayer reasonably and properly invoke angelic 
 aid as well as the aid of the Holy Spirit? Do you 
 say that it is not necessary, and that the Spirit can 
 give us all the aid we need? Doubtess it can, but, 
 according to Scripture, it is otherwise appointed. 
 If it be true that, in the divine plan, vSuch work, 
 or any part of it, is assigned to angelic beings, is it 
 for us to refuse to pray for such needed aid or 
 service as is divinely appointed to be rendered by 
 or through them? 
 
 It may be noted that the direct worshiping 
 of angels forbidden by St. Paul (Col. ii., i8) is a 
 very different thing and has no relevancy to the 
 subject now in hand. 
 
 While we have no specific teachings on the sub- 
 ject, we have a number of illustrative examples in 
 the New Testament as to what kind of aid or ser- 
 vice by angels has been rendered to humanity in 
 the past, the particular manner being usually, 
 and perhaps always, that of a dream. But before 
 
Lost Beliefs 175 
 
 noting a few such examples, let me add that, so 
 far as we know, there is nothing miraculous in a 
 dream ; nor is there any case recorded in the New 
 Testament of angelic service to humanity (outside 
 of its agency in the giving of revelation), the dupli- 
 cation of which to a devout follower of the Master, 
 and on a befitting occasion, should even now be 
 regarded as in the nature of a miracle. It might be 
 termed a "special providence," but a special 
 providence is not necessarily nor always a miracle. 
 The two should be carefully distinguished. 
 
 Outside the prophetical books, the Bible gives us 
 a few sketches of inspired dreams; one in Genesis 
 XV., 12-17, by which the futiu-e of his descendants 
 for several centuries was made known to Abraham ; 
 one in Job. iv., 12-17, which for combined beauty 
 and sublimity is unexcelled in our literature; 
 and a third in Acts x., 9-16, which, in connection 
 with what immediately followed, first removed the 
 stigma of religious uncleanness from the non- 
 Jewish nations of the earth — quorum pars sumus. 
 
 For a few illustrations of angelic service to men 
 in the flesh, easy reference may be made to: 
 
 Matt, i., 20; ii., 12, 13, 19, 22. 
 
 Luke i., II, 28; ii., 9; xvi., 22. 
 
 Acts v., 19; vii., 30; viii., 26; x., 3; xii., 7, 23; 
 xxvii., 23. 
 
 Human experience plainly shows that dreams of 
 warning, dreams of a possible future, dreams of 
 guidance or instruction, dreams of reproach, 
 dreams of praise, dreams that seem to be prompted 
 
176 Lost Beliefs 
 
 by some extramundane agency, are not wholly 
 unknown among even as unsuperstitious and 
 incredulous a people as ourselves. Generally 
 we refuse to heed them, or dismiss them with a 
 laugh, and perhaps to our own serious loss. But 
 how may we know an angel-inspired dream from 
 any other? Of course, to do so would require 
 a moral or religious apprehension which, for want 
 of cultivation, very few of us possess. But how 
 do we learn to distinguish a sincere conviction 
 from a deceptive impulse? the promise of an honest 
 man from the pledge of a sleek scoundrel? a house 
 of purity from a whitewashed sepulcher? The 
 prophet Samuel, in his youth and inexperience, 
 failed to distinguish the call of Jehovah from the 
 voice of Eli, and it took him some time to learn 
 the difference between them (I. Sam. iii.). 
 This difficulty is by no means a new one. It 
 once existed in connection with prophecy (Deut. 
 xviii., 21, 22), but it was not insuperable. I think 
 it safe to say that he who sincerely and devoutly 
 wishes to learn the things divinely made known to 
 him during "the visions of the night" may learn 
 to distinguish the genuine from the spurious much 
 sooner and more surely than he can learn to 
 separate correctly the men of his community into 
 honest and dishonest. "By their fruits ye shall 
 know them" is probably as true of dreams as of 
 men. 
 
 A belief in angels as agents in and for the service 
 oi the devout followers of the Master is one of the 
 
Lost Beliefs 177 
 
 Lost Beliefs of Christianity, and in my way of 
 thinking Christianity is the poorer for the loss. 
 
 2. Another Lost Belief is referred to by St. 
 Paul in I. Corinthians xv., 29 — baptism for the 
 dead. 
 
 The language employed and the form of ex- 
 pression clearly indicate that there was then an 
 established usage in the church at Corinth which 
 was generally known by that term. What did it 
 mean? 
 
 It will be noted that there is no ambiguity in the 
 language used. The phrase ''baptized for the 
 dead," or, as the original really means (and ought 
 to be translated), ''in behalf of the dead, " must in 
 the absence of evidence to the contrary be con- 
 strued as meaning what it clearly expresses — that, 
 in the usage referred to, living persons were 
 baptized for, or in behalf of, some other persons 
 who were dead, and that such baptism of the for- 
 mer was believed to intue in some way to the 
 benefit of the latter. Such a belief implies a very 
 near relationship between the living and the dead, 
 and suggests that possibly (as in the religious 
 cultus of China) they are not very far apart. 
 
 Many commentators and critics, without au- 
 thority and contrary to authority, seek to dis- 
 tort the meaning of the language here employed 
 by Paul so as to make it mean something else. 
 With such it is useless to argue. We might as well 
 discuss the meaning of the ten commandments. 
 But the more orthodox critics try to make it 
 
178 Lost Beliefs 
 
 appear that in the passage cited Paul neither 
 approves nor disapproves the usage in question. 
 
 Critics who so argue have not yet got acquain- 
 ted with Paul. He was not a man of that kind. 
 There were foiu* things which, as his writings 
 plainly show, he especially abominated: Gentile 
 impurity, Jewish legalism, human hypocrisy, and 
 heathen superstition. Either this usage was 
 based on revealed truth, or else it rested on a 
 heathenish superstition. If it had been the latter 
 we may be reasonably sure that Paul would have 
 let it pass by without even a word of disapproval. 
 He was writing to a church of his own planting, 
 and a church over which he still exercised apostolic 
 authority (I. Cor. v., 13; xi., 34b). If we can 
 presume anything on the subject, we must pre- 
 sume that its usages and practices either were 
 established by him or were based on his teachings. 
 Repeatedly in his epistles he condemns innovations 
 introduced by others. No error of practice or 
 belief seems ever to have escaped him. In the 
 passage cited, he speaks as if the usage referred to, 
 if not introduced by himself, at least was well 
 understood by him and met with his approval. 
 After a careful study, I can come to no other 
 conclusion. 
 
 Hence I am constrained to regard this as another 
 of our Lost Beliefs, and so thoroughly lost that if 
 it were now preached from a Presbyterian ptilpit 
 it would doubtless be regarded as heresy, St. Paul 
 to the contrary notwithstanding. 
 
Lost Beliefs I79 
 
 The loss of both these beliefs can easily be 
 accounted for. Two causes have led to their 
 being dropped : one is racial, the other is historical. 
 
 (i) The Aryan race to which we belong, of 
 all the races of the earth, has both by natural 
 organization and by cultivation a minimum of 
 superstition and a maximiim of incredulity. Our 
 intellectual tendencies lead us to believe nothing 
 which we cannot apprehend by some one or more 
 of our physical senses. In proof of the genuineness 
 of Christianity, the argument from miracles has 
 with us pretty much lost its convincing power, 
 and this simply because we cannot understand a 
 miracle even though we may admit it to be true 
 as a fact. No more can we understand how in- 
 visible angels can affect our lives, nor how a 
 baptismal rite performed on a living person can 
 be beneficial to an invisible, disembodied spirit. 
 But the Semitic races, to which the Jews belonged, 
 had no such difficulty. Naturally and habitually 
 they believed in things w^hich they did not pretend 
 to understand. The blowing of the winds was as 
 much a mystery to them as the raising of the dead 
 (John iii., 8). The mere fact that a thing seemed 
 to be impossible was to them, or in their way of 
 thinking, no reason why they should refuse to 
 believe it. Hence an intimate relationship 
 between this world and the next, or between the 
 living and the dead, when authoritatively taught 
 as true, presented no stimibling-block to their 
 faith. We, on the other hand, believe as little of 
 
i8o Lost Beliefs 
 
 it as possible, even though it may be true. As a 
 race we are unfortunately lacking as respects 
 faith in the unseen. 
 
 To this racial defect may fairly be attributed 
 the comparatively small growth among us of the 
 cultus of Spiritualism, the religion of Emanuel 
 Swedenborg, and sundry other systems of belief 
 in which the work or agency of unseen spirits 
 constitutes so dominant an element. The Aryan 
 intellect does not take kindly to such systems of 
 thought. The mysteries that involve directly 
 our relationships with God and eternity are as 
 many as we care to consider. Just at present, 
 another Lost Belief — faith-cure — comes in the 
 same class. We now regard it with great incredu- 
 lity and for the same reason. But of this I will 
 have more to say presently. 
 
 If it were not too much of a digression, it would 
 be interesting to note how prominent in the 
 religious thought of the Mongolian race is the 
 nearness of the relationship of the living and the 
 dead. The fifth commandment of our decalogue 
 has in China a force and potency away beyond 
 anything we ever thought of; for they honor 
 father and mother not only during life but after 
 death — the latter especially to a degree which in 
 genuine zeal and pure devotion probably excels 
 the poor service that we coldly render to the God 
 in whom we profess to believe. 
 
 (2) The other reason for the decadence of 
 these Lost Beliefs is historical. 
 
Lost Beliefs i8i 
 
 In the ancient Hebrew church, prior to about the 
 sixth or seventh century B.C., nothing had been 
 revealed or was known as to a future life or a future 
 world. Jehovah dwelt at Jerusalem among His 
 own people, or at least it was so believed, and 
 hence He and they were locally very near to each 
 other. Worshipers in His temple came into 
 His very presence. He was personally there, as 
 was proven to their satisfaction by the Shekinah 
 which, as they believed, rested on or hovered over 
 the sacred ark in the holy of holies. 
 
 But in the course of time the idea grew up — 
 we do not know its origin — that Jehovah had 
 another home somewhere up in the sky, which 
 came to be known as heaven. Presently, too, 
 it came to be considered as the home or final 
 resting-place of the pious dead. It was thought 
 of as located in or beyond the clouds (Isa. xiv., 
 14), but not so very far off as to interfere with 
 Jehovah's continued personal presence in Jerusa- 
 lem for the good or chastisement of His people. 
 
 Such ideas were natural enough at that time. 
 Science, as we understand it, was then imknown, 
 so that the sim, moon, and stars were not ordinarily 
 thought of as being other than mere appendages 
 to the earth, and not as very far distant from it. 
 If heaven was up among the stars, then obviously 
 it was not so far away as to be beyond even the 
 limited conceptions of that day. 
 
 This idea of the nearness of the next world to 
 this continued down well into the Christian era 
 
1 82 Lost Beliefs 
 
 (I. Thess. iv., 17). And of course, so long as they 
 were thought to be near together, a belief in the 
 intercourse of the dead and the living was easy. 
 But early in the development of astronomical 
 science it was found that the starry heavens were 
 much more distant than had been supposed. 
 Angels and spirits were removed farther off. 
 Through the idea of divine omnipresence, already 
 an article of faith, God and man maintained their 
 former relations, but angelic beings and the dis- 
 embodied souls of the saints gradually grew distant, 
 dim, and shadowy. 
 
 The discoveries of modern science have pushed 
 away the starry heavens almost into infinite space. 
 Our astronomers now count the distance of the 
 nearest star by a number of miles that runs some- 
 where up into the trillions — a distance entirely 
 too great for human comprehension. How much 
 beyond that is the farthermost visible star, no 
 one pretends even to guess. Under all our ideas 
 of heaven as a place or locality, if it be such, it 
 must be still more distant ; or else, if nearer, it must 
 be invisible, and therefore, as a locality, absolutely 
 unknown. 
 
 Thus it was that in the apostolic church heaven 
 was thought of as near; and the intercommunion 
 of the living and dead, or of angelic beings with 
 the living, presented no difficulty whatever; but 
 as heaven receded in distance, the faith of the 
 incredulous Aryan grew weak, and finally broke 
 down altogether. 
 
Lost Beliefs 183 
 
 3. While faith-cure latterly has had some 
 adherents, it was for many centuries a Lost Belief, 
 and in its relationship to the present dominant 
 systems of Christian thought it must still be so 
 classed. Its chief interest at the present time 
 grows out of the fact that it includes a large section 
 of the peculiar *'ism" that is misnamed "Christian 
 Science." I believe that Christian Scientists 
 repudiate any belief in what is commonly known as 
 faith-cure, but they do so simply because, as they 
 deny the existence of disease, they of course deny 
 the existence of any ''cure. " But as I understand 
 their somewhat nebulous theories, they propose 
 by faith, prayer, "good thoughts," etc., to elimi- 
 nate from the human consciousness that which 
 we call disease. This necessarily includes both 
 prevention and "cure." In this sense the follow- 
 ers of Mrs. Mary Baker G. Eddy are faith-curers, 
 even though they may repudiate the name. 
 
 That in the apostolic church there was a preva- 
 lent belief in some kind of a faith-cure, sufficiently 
 appears from James v., 14, 15 and I. Corinthians 
 xii., 9. Possibly Mark vi., 13 should be added. 
 
 It is true that it is not unusual for the pastors 
 of our modern churches even yet to pray with and 
 for the sick; but with our racial lack of faith in 
 what we do not understand, we still, as respects 
 cure, place more reliance on the quinine of the 
 physician than on the prayers of the ecclesiastic. 
 
 A cause other than those above-named aided 
 largely in making faith-cure a Lost Belief. Early 
 
184 Lost Beliefs 
 
 in its history the Roman Catholic Chiirch, which 
 dominated the religious thought of Europe for 
 many centuries, interpreted the faith-cure of the 
 apostolic church as being a cure not of physical but 
 of moral disease, that is, of sin, and accordingly it 
 appropriated the passages above cited to the 
 support of the theory or doctrine involved in its 
 sacrament of extreme unction. And while the 
 leaders of the Protestant Reformation and their 
 successors have never failed to denounce this as a 
 perversion of Scripture, they have made no serious 
 effort to restore this Lost Belief to its rightful 
 place in the system of religious thought and life 
 in which we live. Practically it has continued 
 to be a Lost Belief to the present time, though a 
 few efforts have latterly been made here and there 
 to resuscitate it. 
 
 It is also true, and every physician knows it to 
 be true, that faith in something or in somebody is a 
 powerful factor in the treatment of disease. It 
 may be faith in the physician or in his medicine; 
 or it may be the faith which a self-confident man 
 may naturally have in his own vitality, or a faith 
 prompted by his own wilful determination to live; 
 or it may be a faith based on the promises and hopes 
 of the religion in which he professes to believe. 
 For the ptu-poses of recovery from sickness any 
 faith is better than no faith. 
 
 Under the modern microbe theory of disease, 
 our best medical authorities are beginning to 
 suspect that faith-cure may not be quite so im- 
 
Lost Beliefs 185 
 
 scientific a system as for a thousand years or more 
 it has been generally believed to be. In some 
 diseases, or in some phases of disease, there appears 
 to be an irrepressible conflict between the life- 
 force or vitality of the sick man and the life of 
 the imfriendly microbe — life vs. life. Which is the 
 stronger and more enduring? One or the other 
 is bound to prevail. If, through the nervous 
 organization of the patient, his life-force or vital- 
 ity (I use these words to indicate something that 
 nobody fully understands) can be maintained, 
 stimulated, or increased, such life-force or vitality 
 may, it is suspected, act distinctively on the Hfe 
 of the disease-producing microbe and kill it. In 
 that case the man will get well. Medicine deleteri- 
 ous to the microbe may aid in the conflict, but if 
 this theory of life-energy should prove to be true 
 (as now seems not improbable), then such agency 
 will very likely be found to be more eflicacious than 
 the medicine administered in securing the final 
 and desired result. 
 
 And what more powerful stimulant can there be 
 to the maintenance of life-force or energy than a 
 strong, unwavering, unflinching faith? And 
 where else can we look for an equally sure and 
 equally reliable and equally efficient basis or 
 support for such a faith, than in the hopes and 
 promises of the holy and perfect religion which we 
 profess? The faith-cure of the apostolic church 
 now seems in a fair way to be vindicated and 
 adopted by the best medical science of the age, 
 
1 86 Lost Beliefs 
 
 and that too at no very distant day. Stranger 
 things have happened within the comparatively 
 short time covered by my own recollection. 
 
 And when, as now seems not unlikely, faith-cure 
 becomes a science, I have no doubt that we skepti- 
 cal Aryans will universally beHeve and adopt it, 
 and will do so simply because it will then appear 
 that, as respects the curing of disease, faith is a 
 recognizable force, operative in a scientific way, to 
 or toward an attainable and desirable end — the 
 preservation of life. 
 
 Will man then become immortal? Hardly; but 
 we can well afford to wait and see. 
 
 The fact is that we Aryans have selected from 
 the teachings, practice and usages of the apostolic 
 church those features or elements of the Christian 
 faith which we deem to be essential or vital, and 
 such others as, with or without modification, may 
 suit our OTvm peculiar inclination or habits of 
 thought. The rest we reject or ignore. In other 
 words, out of the materials furnished to us, we have 
 evolved a form of Christianity peculiarly our own; 
 perhaps I should say several forms, for from the 
 same data we have developed the multitudinous 
 beliefs which differentiate our divided and sub- 
 divided sects, though all agree on certain essentials. 
 
 What are these essentials? There are three of 
 them, and only three: A belief (i) in one God; 
 
 (2) in Jesus Christ as the Saviour of men, unto 
 
 (3) an immortal life. All else is derivative there- 
 from. Thus considered, Christianity is the most 
 
Lost Beliefs 187 
 
 flexible religion on the face of the earth. Having 
 selected and evolved a system or form of Chris- 
 tianity which suits ourselves, it is not for us to say 
 that other races, as the Mongolian, or Turanian, 
 or Dravidian, or even the Semitic, must adopt the 
 same just as we have shaped it. I am not thor- 
 oughly informed as to the peculiarities of these 
 other races, but I doubt if our Presbyterian system, 
 for example, will ever commend itself to their 
 general acceptance. They all differ from us 
 radically, and some of them almost interminably, 
 in manner or ways of seeing, thinking, and doing 
 on all subjects and in all things. Each and all of 
 these races have the same right as ourselves, after 
 accepting the essentials, to select and evolve a 
 system or form suitable to their own wants and 
 peculiarities; and the Christian missions ought to 
 be conducted on that basis and to that end. 
 
 I believe in the final and universal prevalence of 
 the Christian faith, but it will be a form of faith 
 in which all nations and races can unite. It will, 
 in my apprehension, drop out as unessential, 
 irrelevant, and optional, fully nine tenths (a low 
 estimate) of our now dominant creeds. Was it 
 not a genuine prophet of Jehovah who proclaimed: 
 
 "And what doth the Lord require of thee but to 
 do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly 
 with thy God?" 
 
 Any form of Christianity evolved along the 
 lines thus marked out is good enough for any man 
 and for all men — for all the races of mankind. 
 
1 88 Lost Beliefs 
 
 4. The Presbyterian Confession of Faith con- 
 tains, inter alia, the following: 
 
 ''The visible Chiirch . . . consists of all those 
 throughout the world, that profess the true religion, 
 together with their children" (chap, xxv., sec. 11). 
 
 So much of the above as I have italicized is, in 
 our branch of the Protestant Chiu"ch, as well as 
 in many others, practically a Lost Belief. The 
 Roman Catholic, the Greek, the Anglican, the 
 Protestant Episcopal, and a few other churches 
 both believe and practise it. In such churches 
 the children are, by right of birth, nominal members 
 of the church from infancy, and usually are so 
 counted. On arriving at years of discretion, they 
 are, after a short preparatory training, and on 
 assenting to a prescribed formula, duly admitted 
 to full membership, and this as a matter of course. 
 To be a full member of the church is thought to be 
 as much a duty, and also a privilege, as for a good 
 citizen to be a member of some political party. 
 It is so preeminently fit and proper, that in such 
 chiurches no one thinks of doubting or disputing it. 
 
 While we of the Presbyterian faith profess a 
 belief in the same theory of church membership, 
 with us it is scarcely more than a theory. In 
 practice we have dropped it, and our usage is the 
 same as if no such words were contained in our 
 creed. The only relic of this belief that we still 
 retain is the ordinance of Infant Baptism — in 
 support of which, by the way, we are unable to 
 cite any New Testament authority. 
 
Lost Beliefs 189 
 
 Whether we and sundry other Protestant 
 churches have gained or lost by practically drop- 
 ping this portion of our creed, is a question I am not 
 prepared to discuss. Just at present, I don't 
 know; but my impression is that we have lost more 
 than we have gained. 
 
REVELATION 
 
 The Book of Revelation is a book of contradic- 
 tions. Nothing could be more matter-of-fact 
 than some of its statements (chaps, ii., iii.). In 
 other portions the imagery employed is as wild, 
 grotesque, and uncouth as that of Ezekiel (Rev. 
 iv., 7, 8; xii., 3). Some passages show that the 
 writer took positive pleasure in exhibiting what it 
 is no exaggeration to call a hellish spirit of in- 
 human and malignant revenge (xiv., 8-12); while 
 in other passages he shows equal delight in sketch- 
 ing the gloriously beatific life which awaits a 
 redeemed humanity (chaps, xxi., xxii.). The 
 book deals with time and eternity, with God and 
 Satan, with heaven, earth, and hell, with saints 
 and harlots, with dragons and frogs, and with 
 nearly everything that intervenes. 
 
 The prevalent theories as to the origin and 
 authorship of the book are as discordant as its 
 contents. Apparently good and substantial 
 reasons support the belief that it had but one 
 author; other equally substantial reasons seem 
 to indicate that it had a plurality of authors. 
 Strong evidence exists that its authorship should 
 be attributed solely to the apostle John; 
 
 190 
 
Revelation 191 
 
 but many Biblical critics of high rank avow 
 their conviction that another John, known as 
 John the Presbyter, was its author. Still others 
 aver, and for reasons of no little cogency, that 
 neither of the two wrote it, and that its author 
 is unknown. Again, the date of its composition is 
 an unsettled matter — all possible dates being 
 assigned by equally good Biblical scholars from 
 about A.D. 66 down through a hundred or more 
 years thereafter. Nor can the advocates of these 
 various theories be arranged under any general 
 classification of orthodox and heretical, for some of 
 our most unorthodox critics are among the strong- 
 est advocates of orthodox theories, and vice versa. 
 
 From my standpoint, however, none of these 
 variant theories have anything to do with the 
 canonical character of the book. I accept it as a 
 part of the inspired record, no matter who wrote 
 it, nor when it was written, nor whether it had one 
 or several authors. Premising this, I will present 
 some of the facts and conclusions which I think 
 are at least reasonably clear and which, if kept in 
 mind, will aid materially in an understanding of 
 its somewhat obsciu-e and confusing contents. 
 
 I. The first three chapters were written at a 
 time of great and alarming religious decadence in 
 the chiurches of Western Asia; and they were 
 written for the purpose of arresting such decadence 
 and restoring therein the primitive standards of 
 faith and practice. The specific contents of the 
 several epistles to the seven churches clearly 
 
192 Revelation 
 
 prove so much. Out of the seven, only two, 
 Smyrna and Philadelphia, are exempt from the 
 severest reproof and warning. Gross heresies and 
 alarming degeneracy marked the religious life 
 of all the others. And what was true of these 
 seven was probably true of the churches of that 
 region generally; for, standing as they did at the 
 leading centers of influence, they doubtless rep- 
 resented the general drift of the religious develop- 
 ment of the day. 
 
 2. These churches were of Paul's planting; and 
 though he foresaw and predicted such a period of 
 degeneracy (Acts xx., 29, 30), it is reasonably 
 certain from the contents of his later epistles, 
 particularly Ephesians and Colossians (written 
 about A.D. 62), that it did not come during his 
 lifetime. 
 
 3. After the death of Paul an apparently 
 reliable tradition indicates that John the Apostle 
 succeeded to the bishopric of these churches. 
 The writer of these three chapters writes as their 
 Bishop properly might, that is, with a tone of 
 authority — just as if he had an official right to say 
 what he did, and a right which these churches 
 could not refuse to recognize. 
 
 These facts would seem fully to justify the 
 conclusion that John the Apostle was the writer 
 of these first three chapters, and that they were 
 written some years after Paul's death, and some- 
 where along toward the end of the first century, 
 say about a.d. 90-92. 
 
Revelation 193 
 
 4. It also appears that at the time John wrote 
 these three chapters there existed in his mind an 
 expectation of some general and severe persecu- 
 tions which were soon to come on the churches 
 (Rev. ii., 10, 16, 23; iii., 3, 10, 19). vSuch a perse- 
 cution arose under the Emperor Domitian, a.d. 
 93~96. So far as we know, this was the first 
 general persecution of Christians as such, though 
 numerous local persecutions had occurred pre- 
 viously, some of which were both bitter and brutal. 
 But up to the time of Domitian, while many 
 individual Christians, and in fact large numbers of 
 them here and there in the empire, had suffered 
 grievously on account of their faith, and especially 
 so at Rome under Nero (a.d. 64-68), the general 
 policy of the empire was not at first hostile to the 
 church as such. But some time during the twenty- 
 five years that intervened between Nero and 
 Domitian the imperial authorities gradually woke 
 up to the fact that the supremacy of the church 
 meant the destruction of the empire, and so it 
 turned out. For after two or three centuries of 
 bitter and bloody conflict the chiu-ch triumphed, 
 the empire was defeated and (except in name) 
 perished from the earth by a slow process of 
 disintegration. The name continued to the time 
 of the first Napoleon, who finally wiped it out, 
 
 A. D. 1805. 
 
 5. These first three chapters clearly constitute 
 by themselves a separate section of the book. 
 I see in them no direct relevancy to what follows. 
 
194 Revelation 
 
 either in respect of subject-matter, authorship, 
 or date of composition. The remainder of the 
 book is for the most part dramatic in character, 
 and seems to be made up chiefly of two separate 
 dramas, composed at different times; and, as here 
 recorded, the conclusion of one runs into the 
 opening sections of the other. The concluding 
 drama is apparently the earlier in date, and 
 greatly excels the first in point of sublimity and 
 grandeur. Both, however, treat of the same 
 subject and in about the same way; both have a 
 common origin and proceed to a common end. 
 All this I hope to make clear as we proceed. 
 
 6. The first drama, as recorded, opens with 
 chapter iv. Here we enter an entirely different 
 atmosphere, or come into new conditions of 
 thought and experience. The powers of heaven — 
 so runs the vision or dream — are assembled in a 
 council-room or hall of state, such as was usual in 
 Oriental courts. The Book of Job opens in the 
 same way. The writer, as a prophet or seer, in 
 vision sees himself admitted, and he first describes 
 the glorious personnel of the assemblage and the 
 magnificence of the place where the council was 
 held. He tells us who were there, and describes 
 in detail the exercises of devout worship by which 
 the council was opened and constituted. Obvious- 
 ly so grand a council would be held only for some 
 great purpose, a purpose worthy of so great an 
 occasion. A sealed book or roll — a roll seven times 
 sealed and therefore presumptively containing 
 
Revelation 195 
 
 something of vital importance to the universe at 
 large — was held in the hand of the presiding Deity. 
 Evidently the coimcil assembled with a confident 
 expectation that its contents would be made 
 known, and that thus would be learned what the 
 future had in store for the world or for the church 
 (Rev. iv., i). That the citizens of heaven were 
 as ignorant on such subjects, and as anxious to 
 learn, as the dwellers on earth, may fairly be in- 
 ferred from I. Peter i., 12, and Mark xiii., 32. 
 
 The drama, or tragedy — for such it was — is 
 opened by the proclamation of an angelic herald 
 of high rank (Rev. v., 2) calling on any one in the 
 wide universe who deems himself qualified for the 
 work, to come forward and break the seals and 
 open the roll. A pause followed : no one immediate- 
 ly appeared ; and those who were present hesitated, 
 as well they might, to respond to such a call. 
 So momentous was the occasion — so awe-inspiring 
 and so pregnant for weal or woe — that for a time 
 no one ventiu-ed to volunteer. The distress of 
 the Seer (verse 4) — who evidently represented 
 our humanity — doubtless expressed the feeling 
 of disappointment that prevailed throughout the 
 assemblage. Finally one was found — no less a 
 person than He who redeemed humanity. His 
 worthiness could not be questioned ; His willingness 
 was His own; and thereupon the entire council 
 unite in joyous acclaim of exalted praise (verses 
 9, 10). Angels innimierabie join in the chorus 
 (verses 11, 12), and even feeble humanity itself 
 
196 Revelation 
 
 finds in the prospect good reason for the most 
 ecstatic rejoicing (verses 12, 14). The world or, 
 perhaps better, the church will now learn for the 
 first time what not even the angels knew, the 
 coming prospects and final success of the work of 
 redemption. 
 
 7. The differently colored horses and different- 
 ly accoutred riders that appeared and departed on 
 their respective missions, on the breaking of the 
 first four seals (vi., 1-8), were not regarded by the 
 Seer as involving the particular disclosures he was 
 looking for: hence he passed them by with but a 
 brief mention of each. They revealed nothing 
 but what was common in human history, and had 
 been so for thousands of years. War and conquest, 
 famine, starvation, and death, ''Man's inhuman- 
 ity to man," were written all over the records of 
 the past. That this should continue for all time, 
 the Seer could not believe. Hence he hurried 
 on to the opening of the fifth seal (verses 9-1 1). 
 With this the great subject-matter of the awful 
 drama is brought to the front, for the souls of the 
 victims of Roman atrocity, from Nero to Domitian, 
 as though unable longer to restrain their intense 
 longing for the revenge on hated Rome, shout out 
 {i.e.y "with a great voice") their appeal: "How 
 long, O Master, the holy and true, dost thou not 
 judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell 
 on the earth?" (Verse 10.) 
 
 Here we have the text, the key note, the central 
 thought of this wonderful drama, to the portrayal 
 
Revelation 197 
 
 or delineation of which a good part of the book is 
 directly devoted. Revenge on Rome (figuratively 
 called Babylon, for a direct use of the name Rome 
 would have been high treason) breathes through, 
 animates, and dominates the majestic develop- 
 ment of this great drama as well as the next. For 
 designating and characterizing hated Rome, no 
 term of execration was too severe, too horrible, 
 too obnoxious, or too Ulthy. As more fully 
 characterized in the second drama, Rome was a 
 monstrous, hideous, misshapen dragon (xii., 3), 
 a ferocious, blasphemous beast (xiii., i, 2), the 
 ally of Satan (xii., 9), a gorgeously arrayed but 
 filthy harlot — the incarnation of harlotry, and as 
 such gorged to drimkenness, "with the blood of 
 the saints" (xvii., 1-6). Accordingly the writer 
 cursed Rome, as Job in his dire affliction cursed 
 the day of his birth (Job iii., 1-19); as Shimei 
 cursed David (II. Sam. xvi., 5-14) ; as the Psalmist 
 cursed Edom (Ps. cxxxvii., 7-9); as Isaiah cursed 
 the real Babylon (Isa. xiii., xiv.). In the matter of 
 invoking curses on their enemies, the people of the 
 Semitic races are said to possess exceptional 
 fluency, and the Book of Revelation bears evidence 
 of this. 
 
 But the time for this revenge had not, in the 
 divine plan, yet come. The persecution of the 
 church was not yet ended. Still others of ''their 
 feUow-servants and their brethren" were yet to 
 imdergo the terrible experiences of martyrdom. 
 Until they "should have fulfilled their course,'* 
 
198 Revelation 
 
 these appellants for vengeance must wait, even 
 though their appeal was just. In the meantime, 
 and apparently as a special mark of honor — for 
 such was the Oriental usage — to each one was given 
 ^'a white robe" (Rev. vi., 11). 
 
 8. I do not think it possible to correlate the 
 different elements of this dramatic picture, or 
 panorama, with the successive events of human 
 history to any such extent as to find even an 
 approximately exact correspondence therewith. 
 In construing the visions, the dreams of prophets 
 and seers, we are to look only for general effects, 
 not for historical details. Neither, as a general 
 rule, does the element of duration or of time-how- 
 long enter into the dramatic picture. The writer 
 records what he sees, and usually, though not 
 always, notes the order in which the incidents of 
 the vision follow each other, but rarely the time 
 occupied by each — much as in an ordinary dream, 
 say of a voyage to Europe and back, which, though 
 vivid and apparently real, may last only a few 
 minutes. Such exceptions as occur in the present 
 narrative will be noted as we proceed. 
 
 For these reasons I am unable to speak with 
 any approach to certainty as to the duration of 
 time which may be covered by the events pictured 
 or referred to as occurring thus far. The writer 
 gives no key by which that matter may be deter- 
 mined. Probably he himself did not know, for 
 otherwise we may reasonably presume that he 
 would have told us. Nor have I yet found any 
 
Revelation 199 
 
 commentator whose exposition herein has appealed 
 to me as sufficiently clear and certain to be adopted 
 as a matter of belief or faith. For myself, I am 
 in the position of one awaiting further light and 
 knowledge. 
 
 9. The marvelous panorama that gradually 
 unrolled before the vision of the writer on the 
 opening of the sixth seal (Rev. vi., 12-17) bears a 
 striking resemblance to the events which, in the 
 popular apprehension of the early church, were 
 immediately associated with the expected early 
 return of the Master — an event which Paiil con- 
 fidently looked for during the lifetime of the genera- 
 tion then living (I. Thess. iv., 17). Peter also 
 thought that it was near at hand (I. Pet. iv., 7), 
 as also did the writer of the book we are considering 
 (Rev. xxii., 7, 12, 20). The occurrence of un- 
 natural phenomena in the natural world was 
 generally beHeved to forecast His coming. He 
 himself foretold such signs (Matt, xxiv., 29; Luke 
 xxi., 25-27) ; so did Peter (II. Pet. iii., 10-13); and 
 Paul appears to have had somewhat similar 
 expectations (II. Thess. i., 7-10). The events 
 which thus, in the writer's vision, followed the 
 opening of the sixth seal, were doubtless supposed 
 by him to indicate that the second coming of 
 Christ was thereby presaged, that it was near at 
 hand, and that when He came, it would be partly 
 at least for vengeance upon Rome. So much at 
 least seems to be implied in Revelation vi., 17: 
 "a great day of wrath" was impending, and so 
 
200 Revelation 
 
 terrible would that wrath be that no one would be 
 "able to stand." 
 
 10. Apparently as a part of the chaos that 
 followed the opening of the sixth seal, the writer 
 saw the vision of the four angels of chapter vii., 
 1-3. At this moment the majestic development 
 of the drama is arrested, for not yet have we had 
 any report of the later martyrs, the ''fellow- 
 servants" and "brethren" who, according to 
 chapter vi., 11, were to meet their fate and be 
 gathered in before the appeal of the earlier martyrs 
 (verse 10) for revenge could be entertained. These 
 must be accounted for, and their safety assured.' 
 Accordingly, a census is attempted: "a hundred 
 and forty and four thousand, sealed out of every 
 tribe of the children of Israel" (Rev. vii., 4) ex- 
 presses the idea that the salvation of Israel is com- 
 plete : they are all there. The writer was evidently 
 a Jew by nationality, and he gloried in a vision of 
 the realization of what to Paul in his day was not 
 in ; sight — the salvation of Israel (Rom. xi., 25). 
 The Gentiles too were there, in countless numbers, 
 "out of every nation, and of all tribes and peoples 
 and tongues" (Rev. vii., 9). While especial 
 mention is made of those who had "come out of 
 the great tribulation" (verse 14), as though per- 
 secution had spent its fury, the account seems to 
 indicate that all the redeemed had been gathered 
 in, and the writer might very naturally have 
 thought so, in view of his expectation that the 
 Master was coming "quickly," as already noted. 
 
Revelation 201 
 
 And if the harvest unto eternal Hfe was then 
 thought to be complete, nothing coiild be more 
 fitting than the songs of grateful praise that 
 celebrated the consummation of the great work of 
 human redemption (verses 10, 11). The best 
 that heaven offered or could offer was at their 
 disposal (verses 15-17), and they awaited the 
 opening of the seventh and last seal, v/hich would 
 surely bring the longed-for but delayed revenge 
 on persecuting Rome. 
 
 II. On this, "there followed a silence in 
 heaven about the space of half an hour" (Rev. 
 viii., i) — as though all the inhabitants of the celes- 
 tial world, angels and men, stood aghast or in terror 
 at what was presented to their view. The time 
 for revenge, not only on Rome but on all the 
 agencies of evil, had now come ; and so appalling 
 was the revenge to be that no one put forth either 
 hand or voice to hasten its infliction. Even the 
 martyred victims of the most cruel atrocities that 
 human depravity could suggest or contrive were 
 silent with the rest, much as if they too hesitated 
 at the awfulness of the vengeance they had so 
 ardently implored. But the last seal was broken; 
 the divine decree must be executed, and the instru- 
 ments of vengeance, seven angels with seven 
 trumpets, stood forth in array, and "prepared 
 themselves to sound" (verse 6). 
 
 Before they did so, however, as if some further 
 justification were needed for the dreaded events 
 that were to follow, the "prayers of all the saints" 
 
202 Revelation 
 
 — doubtless the prayers of the thousands of mar- 
 tyrs mangled alive by savage beasts or burned 
 alive by more savage men, as a means of adorning 
 the festal days and nights of Roman brutality; 
 prayers that could not be forgotten for deliverance 
 from atrocities that could not be forgiven — these 
 prayers of the martyred saints were gathered 
 together as incense, and burned in the presence 
 of Him of whom the record runs: "Vengeance is 
 mine; I will repay, saith the Lord" (Rom. xii., 19). 
 And in attestation of the fact that in the infliction 
 of the coming retribution of Rome no mercy was to 
 be shown, the angel loaded the now empty censer 
 with fire from the altar of vengeance, and tragically 
 ''cast it upon the earth" (Rev. viii., 3-5). Thus, 
 emblematically, the doom of human and satanic 
 wickedness was then sealed; probation was ended, 
 and the instruments or agencies of divine retribu- 
 tion proceeded to their work. 
 
 12. It is not necessary for my present purpose 
 to follow in detail the horrors narrated as the de- 
 velopment of this aw^ul drama slowly proceeds. 
 It is not pleasant reading, for it is written in the 
 spirit of Moses when he wrote Deuteronomy xxviii., 
 15-68; in the spirit of Samuel and Saul when they 
 wiped out Amalek (II. Sam. i., 15) ; in the spirit of 
 David when he tortured his captives to death under 
 saws and harrows and axes and in brick-kilns (II. 
 Sam. xii., 31) ; in the spirit of the writer of the im- 
 precatory Psalms — the spirit which everywhere and 
 always demands "an eye for an eye, and a tooth 
 
Revelation 203 
 
 for a tooth" (Matt, v., 38), and sometimes with 
 compound interest added. Thus runs the record 
 from Revelation viii., 6 through chapters ix., x., 
 to xi., 13. Nor do I find anything in this portion 
 of the book that appears to correspond with any- 
 specific history of which we have any record. 
 That it all once had a meaning does not admit of 
 doubt, but the key to its meaning is lost; and the 
 asserted analogies between the events of subse- 
 quent history and the vivid but indefinite sketches 
 of these chapters are altogether too remote, 
 imcertain, or fanciful to furnish anything like a 
 reliable guide for the purpose of interpretation. 
 13. With these chapters, however, we come to 
 one of the vexing questions in Biblical criticism. 
 Chapter x. (except verse 7) and chapter xi., 1-13 
 were apparently written by some other and earlier 
 writer than the author of the previous portions of 
 the book. The latter, probably finding them 
 extant and anonymous, and that they suited his 
 purpose, inserted them at this place in his narra- 
 tive. While this view is somewhat conjectural, 
 the best indications point that way. The writers 
 were certainly different, for one is represented as 
 being in heaven during the running of his vision 
 (Rev. iv., I, 2), while the other was on earth 
 (Rev. X., 1-4). One vision was based on the 
 disclostires of a sealed book or roll (Rev. v., i); 
 the other on an open book or roll (Rev. x., 8). 
 For reasons already stated, I would assign the 
 portion of the book already considered to a date 
 
204 Revelation 
 
 subsequent to the general persecution under the 
 Emperor Domitian, and quite near to the end of 
 the first century. Chapter xi., however, was 
 probably written prior to the destruction of 
 Jerusalem, a.d. 70, for the temple is represented as 
 still standing (verses 1,2). As above stated, I am 
 strongly inclined to the view that the author of the 
 previous chapters, finding an earlier apocalypse 
 in existence of a like general trend — its author per- 
 haps unknown — one that sufficiently suited his 
 purpose, adopted portions of it, with perhaps some 
 changes and corrections, including the insertion 
 of chapter x., 7. And it suited his purpose partly 
 perhaps because it announced the near coming of 
 the end of all things (verse 6), as also the complete 
 revelation or disclosure of the last of the divine 
 mysteries ; and if, as perhaps he reasonably might, 
 he should understand that "Sodom and Egypt" 
 (Rev. xi., 8) — names highly obnoxious in Jewish 
 thought — meant hated Rome, and that the 
 earthquake of verse 13 meant its destruction, its 
 general drift and meaning would lie along the 
 lines of the visions he was then narrating. 
 
 14. With the sounding of the seventh and last 
 of the trumpets of vengeance, the Seer presents us 
 (verses 15-19) a scene of ecstatic rejoicing in 
 heaven over the complete establishment to all 
 eternity of "the kingdom of otir Lord, and of his 
 Christ" (verse 15), as also over the final triumph 
 of divine wrath against the nations, and the 
 immediate reward to "the prophets, and to the 
 
Revelation 205 
 
 saints, and to them that fear thy name" (verse 
 18). Obviously the full consummation was 
 thought to be then very close at hand. The holy 
 temple in Jerusalem, now lying in ruins for twenty 
 years or more, was reopened in heaven; the old 
 Mosaic ark of the covenant, probably lost when 
 Nebuchadnezzar ravaged the city about six 
 hundred years before, is refound; while the un- 
 usual portents of nature indicate the coming of 
 great events (verse 19). 
 
 15. Apparently this particular drama ends at 
 this point, and with chapter xii. we are introduced 
 to another, the opening chapters of which are lost. 
 But in what we have the writer turns back and 
 begins again with an era of violent persecution and 
 a persecution which, by historical allusions, is 
 fairly well-identified with that of Nero, a.d. 64-68, 
 which followed the burning of Rome, and a des- 
 cription of which burning, it may be added, is 
 probably reproduced in chapter xviii., 9-19. The 
 dramatic form of representation previously used 
 is still preserved. The same general subject is 
 also adhered to — revenge on Rome (still desig- 
 nated as Babylon) for the fearful persecutions 
 inflicted on the saints, and a sketch or delineation 
 of the final and glorious rewards of the latter in 
 the New Jerusalem — for the old Jerusalem was 
 laid waste. 
 
 16. As the introductory part of this added 
 drama is lost (and of course previous historical 
 allusions are lost with it), the historical meaning, 
 
2o6 Revelation 
 
 if there be any, involved in the vision of the star- 
 crowned and sun-clad woman (Rev. xii., i-6, 13- 
 17), and in the vision of the war in heaven (verses 
 7-12), must be matters of conjecture. None of 
 the numerous commentaries that I have been 
 able to consult give any explanation which I can 
 regard as satisfactory. The proper interpretation 
 of visions and dreams is a department of Biblical 
 criticism in which our Biblical scholars have not 
 yet attained to a very high state of proficiency. 
 Hence, as to these two particular visions, I pass 
 them by with only a comment or two. 
 
 (i) Of the war in heaven the account reads 
 much as if Satan, up into the beginning of the 
 Christian era, still continued to have, and to 
 exercise, as in the days of Job (Job i., 6), and as in 
 the later time of Zechariah (Zech. iii., i, 2), a right 
 or privilege of free entrance into the court of 
 heaven, where he appears as "accuser" of those 
 who ''loved not their Hfe even imto death, " which 
 obviously means the redeemed martyrs ; but that at 
 a time subsequent (not prior, as generally believed) 
 to the sacrifice on Calvary, he and his angels were 
 expelled thence and "cast down to the earth" 
 where, on accoimt of his "great wrath," and 
 because he had but a "short time" in which to 
 work before the anticipated early return of Jesus 
 the Master, it was evidently expected that he 
 would play havoc, probably as the instigator of 
 renewed and more virulent persecution against 
 the saints of the Most High. How much of this 
 
Revelation 207 
 
 is figiirative, and, if figurative, what it means; 
 how much, if any, is historical, and how or when 
 fulfilled, the record does not disclose. // historical 
 it is widely at variance with the views generally 
 taught in our church as to the time when Satan was 
 expelled from heaven. But be this as it may, the 
 song of triimiph (Rev. xii., 10-12) over the defeat 
 and expulsion of Satan is worthy the occasion. 
 In the working out of the plan of redemption, this 
 event was evidently thought to be ''the beginning 
 of the end, " or at least the first of the victories that 
 were to bring it about. 
 
 (2) The apocalypse of the woman whom all 
 nature delighted to honor (verses 1-6, 13-17), 
 and in whose child were centered the hopes of 
 humanity for its final redemption, introduces a 
 repulsive dragon as the chief sotirce or agency of 
 persecution. Its heads, horns, and diadems (verse 
 3) seem to associate it closely in the thought of the 
 Seer with the Caesarean Hne of emperors, of whom 
 Nero was the last and the worst. It is generally 
 conceded, and apparently for good reasons, that in 
 chapter xiii., we have a sketch of the Emperor Nero 
 as "a beast" (which he undoubtedly was), and of 
 some one of the obsequious ministers of his beastly 
 passions, who therefore was "another beast," and 
 also of the cruelties and barbarities of the Neronian 
 persecution of a.d. 64-68. To have named Nero 
 in that connection would have been treasonable, 
 and therefore to the writer fatal, for the Roman 
 sword (gladius), though short, could reach to the 
 
2o8 Revelation 
 
 utmost limits of the empire. But a secret key 
 (verse i8) sufficiently identified him to Christian 
 readers, and the mere use of the words ''dragon" 
 and ''beast" by the writer (evidently a Jew by 
 descent and early training) indicates an overpower- 
 ing execration with which the surviving Christians 
 invested the memory of their persecutors, and is a 
 corresponding index to the a\\^ulness of the perse- 
 cutions. In Jewish thought the names of animals 
 regarded as unclean expressed the acme of oppro- 
 brium and hate (Matt, vii., 6; xv., 26). That in 
 this particular case the names were deserved 
 fully appears from the fragmentary remains of the 
 history of that period. At that time, as fully as 
 ever afterward, was probably exemplified "the pa- 
 tience and the faith of the saints" (Rev. xiii., 10). 
 
 17. In chapter xiv., 1-7, the Seer seems to be 
 setting forth, perhaps for the consolation and 
 encouragement of the persecuted saints, his 
 conception of Mount Zion, the home of the re- 
 deemed martyrs — ^in substance about as follows: 
 
 (i) A sacred number, say seven or twelve, 
 multiplied by itself, with an added cipher or two, 
 expressed in Jewish thought that which was endless 
 or practically infinite (Matt, xviii., 22). Here 
 three ciphers added to the product gave a faint 
 expression of the number of the redeemed — a 
 number so great that the chorus of their voices in 
 song had a grandeur and power not unlike that of 
 the most sublime of nature's manifestations 
 (Rev. xiv., I, 2). 
 
Revelation 209 
 
 (2) The music of the next world will be some- 
 thing entirely new, and also something beyond 
 human comprehension (verse 3). 
 
 (3) Our Saviour's statement as to the absence 
 of sexual life and relations in the next world (Luke 
 XX., 35, 36) will be Hterally verified (Rev. xiv., 4). 
 
 (4) The universal curse of human lying will 
 not be found there, and no ''blemish" will exist 
 (verse 5) — the force and significance of this last 
 fact resting on the other fact that, by a "blemish" 
 of any kind, both animals and men were, in the 
 thought of that day, rendered unfit for the service 
 of the Most High (Lev. i., 3; xxi., 21). 
 
 (5) Another gospel will then be promulgated, 
 but what it will consist of, or how it will differ 
 from our present gospel, is not stated (Rev. xiv., 
 6). 
 
 18. But during this time Bab^don (or Rome), 
 ''the dragon," had not been forgotten; nor had 
 Nero, "the beast." The depth and severity of 
 the vengeance yet to be taken on them, and now 
 prophetically announced (verses 8-12), were some- 
 thing appalling; for they were to be compelled to 
 " drink of the wine of the wrath of God, undiluted, 
 in the cup of His anger . . . and the smoke of 
 their torment goeth up for ever and ever" (verses 
 10, 11). If hell contains any doom more terrible 
 than that, it is not recorded. The agonizing 
 prayer of the martyrs (Rev. vi., 10) was now heard, 
 and assurances were given of frightful vengeance. 
 But as the Neronian period of martyrdom was 
 
210 Revelation 
 
 not yet ended, the Seer was directed to write of 
 those who were yet to suffer (Rev. xiv., 13): 
 
 "Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from 
 henceforth : 
 
 "Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from 
 their labors; 
 
 "For their works follow with them." 
 
 19. The vision of the reaping of the earth 
 (verses 14-20) presents no facts which I am able 
 to render into actual history. Apparently it is 
 prophetic of a final harvest, but it is a harvest of 
 evil and not of good. The entire fruits of the 
 reaping are represented as cast "into the great 
 winepress of the wrath of God" (verse 19). 
 Nothing is gathered into life eternal. This cer- 
 tainly is not the reaping our Saviour told of in 
 Matthew xiii., 37-43, nor do I know of any other 
 reaping prophetically foretold to which it can 
 properly be referred. The account clearly in- 
 volves, however, that which is the dominant 
 thought of the book, vengeance without mercy. 
 
 20. In the progressive development of the pre- 
 sent drama, the time had now come for the 
 avenging of the wrongs inflicted by Nero, "the 
 beast" (Rev. xv., 2), on the martyred saints. 
 The "seven angels having the seven last plagues, " 
 which seem to be the perfected or completed 
 expression of "the wrath of God," make their 
 appearance (verse i). Face to face with the 
 impending retribution, and notwithstanding its 
 obvious horrors, the martyred victims of Nero's 
 
Revelation 211 
 
 brutality are again represented as joining in a 
 holy song of devout praise (verses 3, 4). Here, 
 as in the drama of the earlier chapters, the aveng- 
 ing spirit of ancient Judaism — the blood-revenge 
 of the desert — rims riotous in ecstatic anticipation 
 of the awful vengeance that was in store for the 
 persecuting Gentiles. Even the sanctuary of the 
 divine presence could not, as the vision represents, 
 be cleared of the visible and stifling indications of 
 His anger till the angelic ministers of His wrath 
 had fully accomplished their ghastly work (verse 
 
 8). 
 
 If John the Apostle wrote all this, then we must 
 conclude that when he did so he laid aside the 
 spirit of benignant gentleness and love which 
 belongs to the fourth Gospel and to the three 
 epistles that bear his name, and that he resumed 
 for the time being those belligerent traits of his 
 early manhood which gave him the name of 
 Boanerges— "Son of Thunder "—(Mark iii., 17), 
 and which once prompted him to invoke fire from 
 heaven to avenge a personal discourtesy (Luke ix. , 
 54). While his authorship cannot be authorita- 
 tively denied, we can safely say that the spirit and 
 tone of the passages we are now considering do not 
 tally with what we otherwise know of him in his 
 later years. 
 
 21. The earnest longing of the martyrs for 
 revenge must have been fully satisfied if the vision 
 of the seven bowls (Rev. xvi.) possesses a historical 
 significance at all commensurate with what is 
 
212 Revelation 
 
 delineated. In fact, we may reasonably conclude 
 that such was the verdict, for along with the por- 
 tentous convulsions of nature which followed the 
 pouring of the seventh and last bowl, what hap- 
 pened to imperial Rome is thus recorded (verse 19) : 
 
 "Babylon the great was remembered in the 
 sight of God, to give unto her the cup of the wine 
 of the fierceness of His wrath. " 
 
 Nero's martyrs were avenged at last. 
 
 But not even yet, in this wonderful drama, had 
 the writer given what he regarded as an adequate 
 expression of the old Christian hatred of Rome. 
 He gives it, however, in chapters xvii., xviii. 
 Nowhere in literature, ancient or modern, so far 
 as my reading has gone, is there any sketch or 
 setting forth of malignant but ecstatic antipathy 
 such as is embodied in the vision of these two 
 chapters. No dramatic writer of any age or race 
 has come within a thousand miles of it in respect 
 of the vigor of thought, sublimity of feeling, and 
 beauty of expression with which the writer has 
 here set forth, in a single picture, the acme or 
 perfection of rancorous hate, and self-satisfied 
 joy. In this respect it stands easily first in the 
 annals of literature, whether sacred or profane. 
 
 22. Responsive to the scene of this dire retri- 
 bution, the powers of heaven, with the saints and 
 martyrs, break out in a responsive litany of 
 triumphant rejoicing, united with devout adora- 
 tion and praise to Him who had done it all (Rev. 
 xix., i-io). The reader will look in vain here or 
 
Revelation 213 
 
 elsewhere in the book for the expression, or even a 
 hint, of sorrow or regret. 
 
 Evidently it was not written for any such pur- 
 pose. A spirit of unrelenting and unforgiving 
 revenge, either anticipated or executed or in 
 progress of execution, finds expression in every 
 chapter and on every page. No tinge of remorse 
 anywhere appears. If any mercy whatever, or any 
 mitigation of suffering, was felt or shown either to 
 the ignorant or to the innocent, the writer failed 
 to put it down. This fact may, however, justify 
 the suggestion that (contrary to the view generally 
 entertained) the writer was not writing history, 
 knew he was not, and consequently did not try to 
 do so, but rather was writing the earliest Christian 
 tragedy now extant, and one which might fairly 
 be entitled ''The Tragedy of Persecution." And 
 if it were so entitled, I think that our Biblical 
 scholars would have much less trouble in getting 
 at a correct imderstanding of its meaning. 
 
 2S' One other thought may here be in place. 
 The prevalent tone of the book indicates clearly 
 the vigor and viriHty of the church at the close of 
 the apostolic era. Even amid the intensest horrors 
 of persecution, there is no hint or suggestion of a 
 "let-down" in respect of any of its claims, pre- 
 tensions, or hopes. As between the church and 
 the empire, it was a fight even imto death. There 
 was no flagging in its energies; no weakening in 
 respect of their use; no cowardice on the part of 
 either its leaders or their followers in the day of 
 
214 Revelation 
 
 battle. In maintaining its right to live and 
 develop along its own chosen Hne of growth, the 
 church, as here sketched, was fierce, vigorous, and 
 unrelenting. The determined spirit of Richelieu 
 dwelt in it, for it knew *'no such word as fail." 
 If, on the other hand, the gentle spirit of the 
 Prince of Peace was then temporarily absent, we 
 may safely conclude that the extreme exigencies 
 of the times demanded it. It was then a church 
 militant in every sense of the word ; and in respect 
 of this particular contest, it became the church 
 triumphant. Living now in the ** piping times of 
 peace, " it is not for us to say aught in disparage- 
 ment of the writer or of the record, for in the 
 calamitous experiences of that era of persecution, 
 the divinely appointed rule was established that 
 *'the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the 
 church." 
 
A FUTURE LIFE 
 
 So far as existing records go, the ideas enter- 
 tained by the Hebrew people relative to a future 
 state, say up to about the time of the Babylonian 
 captivity (sixth century B.C.), were exceedingly 
 crude. The spirits of the dead, good and bad 
 alike and together, were believed to continue a 
 semi-conscious, comatose, or sleepy sort of an 
 existence, in a pit or cave somewhere down in the 
 bowels of the earth, then known as Sheol. It was 
 from such a sleep and such a cave that the prophet 
 Samuel was ''disquieted," with some apparent 
 irritabiHty on his part, when he came "up out of 
 the earth" under the divination of the witch of 
 Endor (I. Sam. xxviii., 13, 15). It was while in 
 such a cave that the spirits of the deceased kings 
 and heroes of history were aroused to give a 
 derisive welcome to the newly-arrived ghost of the 
 mighty Nebuchadnezzar of imperial Babylon 
 (Isa. xiv., 9-17). Life in Sheol contained nothing 
 pleasant to look forward to; nor in the writings of 
 that period do we find any mention of a way of 
 escape (Ps. vi., 5; Eccl. ix., 10). A dull, inactive, 
 and apparently unending existence in the cave or 
 pit, Sheol, was the best that the people of ancient 
 
 215 
 
2i6 A Future Life 
 
 Israel then held in expectation. If Psalms xvi., 
 10 be a product of David's pen (which is doubtful), 
 we must conclude that his prophetic eye took in 
 more than elsewhere appears as the belief of his 
 day. 
 
 But in the course of time (seventh century B.C.) 
 it was made known, probably by revelation, that 
 for the sons of Israel (to no others is it promised) 
 there would be a deliverance from the dark cave of 
 Sheol ; and this is the first hint we have of a separa- 
 tion in a future state between the righteous and 
 the wicked. Our record herein is found in Hosea 
 xiii., 14. However, as nothing to the like effect 
 is found in the authentic writings of Hosea's 
 contemporaries, Isaiah and Amos, it seems fair 
 to infer that this new revelation did not at once 
 become a part of the faith of the Jewish church. 
 But it is possible that the germinal seed of divine 
 truth thus planted by Hosea gradually grew in 
 the minds of the leaders of religious thought until, 
 about one hundred and fifty years later, it blos- 
 somed into the incipient doctrine of the resur- 
 rection from the dead, as first appears in Ezekiel 
 XXX vii., 12, 13. But even then, only the resurrec- 
 tion of Jehovah's people, the loyal sons of Israel, 
 is promised. Apparently the final destiny of the 
 remaining dead did not come within the scope of 
 the prophet's vision. Or, possibly, in his view, 
 Sheol was good enough for them, and he let them 
 stay there. The Jews never had any particular 
 love for the Gentiles, either dead or alive. 
 
A Future Life 217 
 
 In stating my views as above, I have not over- 
 looked Isaiah xxvi., 14, 19, but I think it quite 
 clear that this old "song" (verse i) belongs to a 
 much later period, say to the time when the des- 
 truction of Jerusalem was close at hand, as indica- 
 tedin chapter xxiv. If I am right in so concluding, 
 the writer of this song was a contemporary of 
 Ezekiel, and represents the same state of religious 
 thought. 
 
 As to the successive steps in the growth or 
 development of this doctrine of the resiurection — 
 that is, during the next two hundred years or 
 thereabout — we have no knowledge whatever, 
 but at about the end of that period we have the 
 record found in Daniel xii., 2, 3, which probably 
 represents the high-water mark of Jewish belief 
 on this subject nearly, if not quite, up to the begin- 
 ning of the Christian era. Of this justly cele- 
 brated passage, the following points may profitably 
 be noted: 
 
 1. It relates only to the Jewish people (Dan. 
 xii., i). No others come within the range or scope 
 of the prophet's vision; hence he gives us no infor- 
 mation whatever as to the final destiny of the 
 non-Jewish dead. If they, or any of them, were 
 to be raised, or delivered from Sheol, by resurrec- 
 tion or otherwise, the prophet did not know it. 
 
 2. Limited thus, as the vision was, to the 
 Jewish people, it is singular at least that the 
 prophet uses the word "many" (verse 2) and not 
 "all" in designating those who "shall awake." 
 
2i8 A Future Life 
 
 Possibly as he was speaking especially of some 
 "time of trouble, such as never was," etc. (verse 
 i), he had in mind only those who were victims of, 
 or participated in, the events of that ''time." 
 Some of them had been faithful, and for such an 
 ' ' everlasting life ' ' was predicted (verse 3) , Others, 
 however — in the troublous times that characterized 
 the later history of the Jewish people there were 
 many such — were faithless and disloyal; and for 
 these the prophet entertained only a feeling of 
 "shame and everlasting contempt" (verse 2). 
 
 3. The separation of those who "shall awake" 
 into two easily distinguished classes is a marked 
 feature of this prophecy. Nor can any question 
 be raised as to the justice and reasonableness of 
 the separation. We shall find as we progress that 
 this division and separation become more pro- 
 nounced under later revelations. 
 
 4. If the prophet had any special knowledge 
 of a heaven or a hell, the record he made fails to 
 indicate it. The inference appears to be unavoid- 
 able that nothing of either was known at that time. 
 Everything which he predicts might just as well 
 belong to this side of Jordan as to the other. 
 
 Little is known as to the growth of religious 
 thought for the next three hundred years, or to 
 the opening of the Christian era, but at this latter 
 epoch, the current popular belief can be gathered 
 from our Gospel records, and largely from the 
 parable of the rich man and Lazarus (Luke xvi., 
 19-31). 
 
A Future Life 219 
 
 1. The separation into two classes was made 
 at death, or immediately after. Apparently each 
 disembodied spirit naturally went its appointed 
 way, though Lazarus was specially honored with 
 an angelic escort. For the purposes of this division 
 and separation, a resurrection was not thought 
 to be necessary. 
 
 2. The distance apart of the two classes in 
 their new homes, though said to be **far, " was 
 not at that time thought to be so great as in our 
 modem theology. Not only was each within the 
 range of vision of the other, but they were believed 
 to be so near together that the intelligible trans- 
 mission of human thought or ideas was perfectly 
 feasible. In other words, the nearness of the two 
 localities, and the intervening conditions, were 
 such that the occupants of each could actually see 
 the conditions and surroundings of the occupants 
 of the other, and intelligible conversation between 
 them was regarded as involving no matter of 
 difficulty or surprise. 
 
 3. Still further, it was believed that the occu- 
 pants of the higher or better place could, for 
 temporary purposes, pass over to and visit the 
 other. 
 
 This, however, was an error which our Saviour 
 at once corrected by telling his hearers : 
 
 4. That between these two localities there was 
 ^'a great gulf fixed, " of such kind or extent that it 
 was impassable in either direction, at least to the 
 spirits of the dead. Obviously, in His view the 
 
220 A Future Life 
 
 occupants of the one had no occasion to interest 
 themselves in the affairs of the other. 
 
 Thus the final and complete separation of the 
 saved and the lost was definitely made known as 
 an element of our religious faith, and as such, so 
 far as we can gather from existing records, it was 
 then revealed for the first time. 
 
 5. It was also then beHeved that the occupants 
 of this higher and better world could be sent on 
 beneficent errands to, and could hold intelligible 
 and profitable intercourse with, the living inhabi- 
 tants of the earth. This is nowhere denied in the 
 New Testament, and from Hebrews i., 14 I should 
 infer that it was a well-recognized part of the be- 
 lief of the church in the apostolic era of its history 
 — a belief which, unfortunately, has been lost. 
 
 By this time the Hebrew Sheol, or Greek Hades, 
 had come to be regarded as the abode, not of all 
 the dead, but only of the reprobate class, and from 
 being a place of semi-oblivion, it had come to be 
 regarded as a place of torment, and the particular 
 form of torment was that of fire. 
 
 6. Heaven was thought of as the home of their 
 great progenitor Abraham. To be received in his 
 bosom implied a cordial and sincere welcome, as to 
 *'a feast of fat things. " 
 
 From other sources we learn that many of the 
 Jewish people, and probably a majority, believed 
 at that time in a Jewish resurrection at the "last 
 day" (John xi., 24); but it does not appear that 
 they had any well-defined expectation of a general 
 
A Future Life 221 
 
 resurrection, such as would include the Gentile 
 dead. In fact, the Jews of that day had no interest 
 in the Gentiles, either in this world or in the next. 
 
 There are a few passages in the Psalms (as xvii., 
 15; xlix., 15, etc.) which indicate that the writer 
 thereof entertained an expectation, or at least a 
 hope, of deliverance from Sheol for himself, and 
 presumptively for all the loyal and devout follow- 
 ers of Jehovah ; but as neither the dates nor the au- 
 thorship of these psalms can now be determined, 
 they give us no material aid in our present in- 
 quiry. At best, they indicate no advance over the 
 prophecies of Ezekiel and Daniel already quoted. 
 
 Nor does the justly celebrated passage Job 
 xiv., 13, 14 aid us materially, for as our scholars 
 tell us, the original Hebrew text here is in hopeless 
 confusion, nor do we know the date of its author- 
 ship. On linguistic grounds, our best scholars 
 are now inclined to assign it to a comparatively 
 late date. 
 
 Thus it \\dll be seen that up to the time of Jesus 
 of Nazareth the doctrine of a future state was but 
 crudely developed in the Jewish church. A resur- 
 rection at the last day w^as believed in, but it was 
 hmited to the Jewish people. As to them, there 
 would be a division or separation of the good from 
 the bad; the good would be welcomed to Abraham's 
 bosom; the bad would be tormented in Hades. 
 As to what they then thought heaven would be, 
 we have no further knowledge of a reliable charac- 
 ter, except such as we may gather from Psalms 
 
222 A Future Life 
 
 xvi., 10, II and Ixxiii., 25, where life in the presence 
 of Jehovah was looked forward to with evident 
 delight. But as to the date of these, as of the 
 other psalms referred to, we only know that they 
 were parts of the hymn-book of the Jewish church 
 at and for some unknown time prior to the begin- 
 ning of the Christian era, but which certainly was 
 compiled, in its present form, subsequently to the 
 return from the captivity. 
 
 This brings us to the later and what we may 
 regard as the authoritative, complete, and final 
 revelation as made by Jesus of Nazareth. 
 
 I. He put this present life in a new relationship 
 to the future state; that is, heaven was not made 
 for the sake of the earth, but the earth was made 
 in order that its inhabitants might, by and while 
 living on the earth, be prepared or made ready for 
 heaven. This new relationship lies at the basis of 
 much of His teaching, as, for example: "Lay up 
 for yourselves treasures in heaven" (Matt, vi., 
 20); ''Strive to enter in by the narrow door" 
 (Luke xiii., 24); "Make to yourselves friends by 
 means of the mammon of unrighteousness ; that, 
 when it shall fail, they may receive you into the 
 eternal tabernacles" (Luke xvi., 9); etc. The 
 parable of the talents (Matt, xxv., 14-30) has 
 this for its setting; so also the laborers in the vine- 
 yard (Matt. XX., 1-16); and the wedding garment 
 (Matt, xxii., 1-14). The dominant tone and drift 
 of our vSaviour's teachings point as rigidly and 
 unerringly as the finger of a guide-board in the 
 
A Future Life 223 
 
 direction of another world. Accordingly, as 
 taught by Him, life here is to be organized and run, 
 not with reference to results thought by each 
 individual to be most agreeable to himself just 
 here and just now, but rather with reference to 
 results that will best fit and qualify him, or get 
 him ready, for another life in a future state — a 
 life which, lasting eternally, will last for an awfully 
 long time! Briefly, a man is to live here in such a 
 way as will best prepare him, not merely to live 
 hereafter, but to live in that hereafter, in its 
 surroundings, whatever they may be, and to do 
 this forever. Such, clearly, according to Jesus of 
 Nazareth, was the divine purpose in our creation. 
 But that hereafter — the future state — is of a 
 particular kind. Certain qualities are necessary 
 for admission thereinto, qualities specifically 
 enimierated in Matthew v., 3-9. How these 
 qualities are to be acquired is also made known: 
 "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy 
 heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy 
 mind" . . . [and] ''thy neighbor as thyself" 
 (Matt, xxii., 37-39)- 
 
 It is safe to say that they who sincerely and 
 faithfully endeavor to make such a preparation 
 in this life, will not be kept waiting long at the 
 gates of the New Jerusalem. 
 
 2. Jesus of Nazareth, however, tells us prac- 
 tically nothing of what or where heaven is, or 
 what His devout followers will have to do when 
 they get there. Perhaps because of our own 
 
224 A Future Life 
 
 limitations it was impossible for Him to give us 
 any realizing apprehension of the actual facts. 
 Such seems to have been Paul's understanding 
 after he had been there and returned, for in sub- 
 stance he says that, as to what he saw, he could not 
 tell us if he would, and would not if he could 
 (I. Cor. ii., 9; II. Cor. xii., 4). We only know that 
 somewhere between this life and the next from 
 these bodies of ours will be- eliminated the only 
 elements for which they can now be said to exist : 
 (i) the preservation of physical life by use of food 
 (Rev. vii., 16), and (2) sexual reproduction (Matt, 
 xxii., 30). What our bodies will consist of when 
 these elements are gone, we do not know. But we 
 may safely infer from the data thus given that 
 heaven will be supremely adapted to the most 
 enjoyable use and exercise of such bodies as we 
 shall then have, and of such mental and spiritual 
 excellences as in our preparations here we may 
 have acquired ; and all this will be in the presence 
 and fellowship, and with the approval and benedic- 
 tion, of our Master and King, and this for a time 
 the end of which was not within the range of 
 prophetic vision. Further than this our knowledge 
 does not go. 
 
 It is true that the writer of Revelation, apparent- 
 ly in order to stimulate and encourage the growth 
 of a high spiritual life among those whom he 
 addressed, endeavored to give them some idea 
 of heaven, but obviously the only way he could do 
 so was to represent it as being made up of the best 
 
A Future Life 225 
 
 things then known, or at that time within human 
 comprehension. Accordingly, he told them of 
 white robes, royal crowns, harps, music, a wedding 
 feast, a temple more gorgeous than Solomon's, 
 lighted not by the sun, nor by the holy oil-lamps 
 of their earthly sanctuary, but by the actual 
 presence of the great Jehovah himself. He told 
 of a city, of a river flowing through it, of shade- 
 trees on its banks, of golden streets and lofty 
 walls and pearly gates, all of which would strongly 
 appeal to the vivid imagination of the Semitic 
 people. 
 
 Through a blind sort of unhealthy pietism, a 
 large section of the Holy Catholic Church has 
 drifted, not into regarding all this as literally true, 
 but into reading it and thinking and talking about 
 it as if it were true ; so that these ideas have 
 largely covered Christian thought through all the 
 intervening centuries. But these, the best elements 
 of the best life and civilization of the first century, 
 cut but a small figure in comparison with the 
 Anglo-Saxon life and civilization of the twentieth 
 century. The things thus enumerated — white 
 robes, crowns, harps, etc. — appeal but feebly 
 to the average man of the present day, compared 
 with the comforts and luxuries of our present 
 civilization. And if these are literally the best 
 things that heaven has to offer, many of us would 
 rather stay here. Consequently the desire to go 
 to heaven has lost much of its intended power as a 
 stimulus to pure and holy living. 
 
226 A Future Life 
 
 Now, I do not here propose to set forth my 
 feeble surmise of some few things that clearly 
 seem to me to belong to the final destiny of a 
 redeemed humanity; but I feel safe in asking: 
 Can it be that a heaven of harps and pearly gates 
 and golden streets constitutes an adequate repay- 
 ment or return for the thousands of years of labor 
 and toil and siiffering and agony of the millions 
 of humanity that have gone, that are here, and are 
 yet to come? for the wars that have devastated 
 nations? for the earthquakes, famines, and pesti- 
 lences that have afflicted our race? for the wrongs 
 and outrages of brutality, lust, pride, passion, and 
 violence? for the miseries of the poor, the unfortu- 
 nate and needy? Yea, more: Was not the price 
 paid on Calvary a price infinitely too high, if its 
 purpose was only to redeem our comparatively 
 worthless humanity unto a life and destiny such as 
 filled the narrow conceptions of Jewish prophecy? 
 
 As I look at it, oiu- chtirch needs to revise or 
 newly define its teachings about heaven and a 
 future state. Unless heaven is or contains some- 
 thing the attainment of which shall be an adequate 
 return for its cost, the first step in the mystery of 
 the universe will not be solved. I believe, how- 
 ever, that it does; and I so read the teachings of 
 Jesus and Paul, both of whom had been there, 
 and knew what they were talking about. 
 
 If we cannot believe them, we can believe 
 nobody. 
 
 3. If, as above suggested, it be the divine 
 
A Future Lite 227 
 
 purpose that this world should be a place of pre- 
 paration, or a training-school in and by which to 
 prepare humanity for another and a different 
 world and for another and different life, then 
 naturally we should expect, as in substance is 
 promised, that those who have been diligent 
 students in this school — and the more diligent the 
 better — would be selected as the most fit persons 
 to participate in and do the work of such other 
 life ; for they alone would be qualified. Only of 
 them could it be said that they had conformed to 
 the purpose of their creation. The rest would 
 naturally be accounted failures, and, like all other 
 failures, their proper place would be in the moral 
 dumping-ground, or waste-heap, or scrap-pile of 
 the universe. So far as our records show, God has 
 no place nor use for those members of the htiman 
 family who refuse or neglect to prepare themselves 
 as prescribed. Such preparation, and that only, 
 is what they are here for. 
 
 Regarding the final destiny of such as are failures, 
 the New Testament presents two or three different 
 views, not necessarily conflicting, for in the in- 
 tended meaning of each, all are imdoubtedly true. 
 
 (i) According to one view, the members of 
 humanity last referred to were culled out, rejected, 
 and thrown away, and nothing further was known 
 in reference to them. For the purposes of the 
 narrative, they passed out of sight and considera- 
 tion and into oblivion. For this we have the 
 authority of Matthew viii., 12; xiii., 48; xxii., 13; 
 
228 A Future Life 
 
 XXV., 12, 30; Mark viii., 36, 37; Luke xiii., 6-9, 28; 
 xiv., 24; xvii., 34, 35; etc. 
 
 This also is the extent of Paul's revelation on 
 this subject (I. Cor. ix., 2"])-, and perhaps this was 
 all that he felt called upon to say, for evidently 
 in his view this was enough. 
 
 (2) A further phase of the subject is presented 
 in many passages to the effect that this, the 
 rejected and waste material of our present moral 
 system, will be thrown into the dumping-ground 
 of Gehenna; for such was the Jewish Gehenna, a 
 dumping-ground for the refuse and offal of the 
 city of Jerusalem. Such a view is all that we can 
 fairly infer from such passages as Matthew v., 
 22, 29, 30; X., 28; xviii., 9; xxiii., 15, 33; Mark ix., 
 43, 45, 47; Luke xii., 5; etc. 
 
 In some of these passages the awfulness of such 
 a fate is enhanced by a reference to the fires of the 
 Jewish Gehenna, which were always kept burning 
 for the pirrposes of sanitation. 
 
 (3) In a series of allied passages this morally 
 waste material is figuratively represented as 
 destroyed or consumed, generally by fire, as in 
 Matthew iii., 12; vi., 30; vii., 19; x., 28; xiii., 30; 
 xxi., 41; Mark, xii., 9; Luke xix., 27; xx., 16; etc. 
 
 In still other passages the active infliction of a 
 terrible pimishment is set forth as awaiting those 
 who have refused or neglected to make the required 
 preparation; though usually (but not always) 
 the denunciation of such a punishment is associ- 
 ated with some manifestation of active wickedness. 
 
A Future Life 229 
 
 And if the punishment so denounced was to have 
 any end or cessation, the prophetic eye failed or 
 was unable to see it. (Matt, xii., 32; xiii., 41, 42, 
 50; xviii., 34; XXV., 41, 46; Mark iii., 28; etc.) 
 
 It is a singular fact that Matthew makes more 
 allusions to a future state of retribution than are 
 to be found in all the other Gospels and in the 
 epistles. I do not know of any reason why this 
 should be so. 
 
 The different views above noted, as to the final 
 destiny of the lost, might suggest the possibility 
 that in the future world there may be different 
 degrees of punishment. So, too, as respects the 
 final destiny of the righteous, it may be possible 
 that some will receive a higher reward than others. 
 The parable of the ten pounds (Luke xix., 11-25) 
 looks very much that way; though the parable of 
 the laborers in the vineyard (Matt, xx., 1-16) ap- 
 pears to have an opposite meaning. As to both 
 these matters, I think we must await further light ; 
 but while doing so, we may safely rest in the certain 
 conviction that the reward of the righteous will 
 be more than ample, and that the punishment of 
 the wicked will not exceed their just deserts. 
 "Shall not the judge of all the earth do right?" 
 
 But I take no more stock in a hell of fire and 
 brimstone than I do in a heaven of harps and 
 pearly gates. All such illustrations are purely 
 figurative, though undoubtedly they have a 
 meaning, and a meaning of fearful import to us. 
 As the descriptions of heaven were made up of the 
 
230 A Future Life 
 
 best things that a Jew of the first century knew 
 anything about, so the New Testament descrip- 
 tions of hell are made up of the worst. The 
 Gehenna of Jerusalem was regarded as foul — 
 impure and corrupt — and repulsively so, up to the 
 highest height of Jewish conception. As a recep- 
 tacle for the city refuse and offal, it was as impure 
 as a modern cesspool or an unflushed sewer. The 
 festering worm of its rottenness made it so abhor- 
 rent that nothing but the ever-during fires that 
 were kept could mitigate its disgusting vileness. 
 Our modem civilization contains much that a 
 Jewish Pharisee of the first century would have 
 abominated as simply nasty. Herein the modem 
 Jew is somewhat of a degenerate; but the high- 
 caste Brahman of India still retains the old ideas 
 and practices of personal purity. To him many 
 things in western civilization are unutterably vile 
 and repulsive. Until our pure religion brings us up 
 to a higher standard of personal and social purity, 
 even divine grace will have uphill work in the 
 conversion of the high-caste Brahmans, living, as 
 they do, in a pride of purity which we neither 
 attain unto nor even seek after. 
 
SATAN 
 
 I WAS once asked by a lay churchman: "Do 
 you believe in a personal Satan?" 
 
 I replied that I had no well-settled belief either 
 way; in short, that I did not know. 
 
 In the New Testament, Satan is clearly and un- 
 doubtedly and uniformly referred to and spoken of 
 as if he were a person with a distinct personaHty 
 of his own, and with all the qualities and 
 attributes of personality, including individuality, 
 volition, and responsibility. I was brought up so to 
 believe, and such, as I imderstand it, is the view 
 generally held to-day by all, or practically all, the 
 orthodox branches of the Christian church. Fur- 
 thermore, it is held that he is, and ever since the 
 human race appeared on the earth has been, the 
 open and avowed enemy of God and man, hostile 
 to all the true interests of both, and malignant and 
 unrelenting in his hostility. 
 
 Now, all this may be true, nor do I deny or 
 dispute it; but: 
 
 I. According to the generally accepted belief, 
 Satan, as a person, must possess all the attributes 
 of God himself except two — omnipotence and love. 
 That is to say, he is, according to current teachings, 
 
 231 
 
232 Satan 
 
 omnipresent, for he exists everywhere, at least on 
 earth, and omniscient, for he knows everything, 
 even to the most secret thoughts of everybody. 
 
 Besides this, he is believed to possess and 
 exercise the same kind and degree of capa- 
 bility for entering into the minds and hearts of 
 men as is possessed by the Holy Spirit, the third 
 person of the Trinity, and also a greater power 
 over them. And this takes in a pretty large part 
 of what we call omnipotence. 
 
 Now, the idea that a personal being, thoroughly 
 malignant in character, and who, at least in his 
 relation to us, possesses more than one half of the 
 attributes of God himself — that such a being 
 should be a constituent part of God's moral uni- 
 verse, is something which I cannot understand. 
 It may be true, but it passes my comprehension. 
 
 2. Another singular fact : At the time the Book 
 of Job was written (though I do not know when it 
 was), and according to the conception of Satan 
 that then existed, he did not possess a single one 
 of the attributes which we now ascribe to him. 
 As sketched in Job (chapters i., ii.), Satan was not 
 at that time regarded as either omniscient or 
 omnipotent, nor yet as omnipresent; nor was he 
 a malignant being. In fact, he entertained no 
 special hostility toward God or man. He came 
 into the council-chamber of Jehovah, just as if he 
 had a right to be there, nor is he represented as an 
 unwelcome guest. He had been sauntering up and 
 down the earth — or so he said — much as if he had 
 
Satan 233 
 
 nothing else to do, or as if that were a pleasant 
 way of putting in the time. No act or intent of 
 evil toward any one is charged against him. He 
 saw Job, and saw how upright and prosperous he 
 was, as well he might be, for he was the especial 
 object of divine favor. According to this sketch, 
 Satan was a sort of cynical character, but not 
 malignant. He had no particular hostility toward 
 Job, but he thought that Job was good simply 
 because it paid him to be good. 
 
 Obviously, the Satan of Job and the Satan of the 
 New Testament have little, if anything, in common 
 except the name. 
 
 3. There is another fact which I cannot over- 
 look, but just how much weight it should have in 
 the argument, I do not know. Through a vivid- 
 ness of imagination almost incomprehensible to us 
 matter-of-fact Anglo-Saxons, the Hebrew race had 
 as one of its characteristics a marked tendency 
 to personify agencies and forces that were not 
 understood, and to illustrate which we need not go 
 outside the writings of St. Paid, for he was much 
 given to this practice. In I. Corinthians xv., 54, 
 55, death is personified or spoken of as if it were 
 a person, and as perfectly as Satan ever was. 
 
 Now I can conceive it as possible (though I do 
 not say it is true) that '' Satan " is, in Biblical usage, 
 a personified name for a condition of things, and a 
 condition of things that stands in close relationship 
 to another condition of things generally known as 
 ''sin," the difference between the two words, as 
 
234 Satan 
 
 thus regarded, being substantial^ this : that while 
 "sin" generally refers to, or has to do objectively 
 with, the individual man as a sinner, the name 
 ** Satan" includes more particularly the subjective 
 agencies and forces that tend to make him such. 
 And while this, perhaps, is not theologically exact, 
 it is near enough so for my present purpose. 
 
 4. Another fact : Neither the Hebrew nor the 
 Greek language (nor the English, for that matter) 
 had any one word that expressed, or could be made 
 to express, the two ideas of the agency, force, or 
 influence which, acting on the man, makes him a 
 sinner, and the resultant effect in the man and in 
 his life — the effect that we call ''sin. " To express 
 the first of these two ideas, as distinguished from 
 the second, the Hebrew adopted the word "Satan," 
 which, our scholars tell us, means an "adversary"; 
 and the use of this word for the expression of that 
 idea became so universal that it was carried for- 
 ward into the New Testament. The latter of the 
 two ideas above noted is, of course, sufficiently 
 expressed by the word "sin." 
 
 5. I think it at least reasonably clear: 
 
 (i) That at some very -ancient but now un- 
 known period of time, there existed in the old 
 Hebrew faith a belief in the existence of a super- 
 human person, then known by the name of 
 "Satan." This seems to be a fair inference 
 from the Book of Job, as noted above. 
 
 (2) But as already explained in the same 
 connection, this Satan of Job fell very far short of 
 
Satan 235 
 
 being such a Satan as the New Testament writers 
 had in mind. 
 
 (3) By the time of the return from the Baby- 
 lonian captivity (late in the sixth century B.C.), 
 the Jewish satanic idea or conception had grown 
 or developed until the name Satan stood for some 
 person or personification who or which was re- 
 garded as hostile to God and man — as appears 
 in Zechariah (iii., i, 2), a prophet of the Return. 
 The same also appears at about the same time in 
 I. Chronicles xxi., i, for it is clear that the two 
 books of Chronicles were not put into their present 
 shape at a much (if any) earlier date, since they 
 describe the beginning of the captivity (II. Chron. 
 xxxvi., 17-21). 
 
 Aside from these three citations there is no Old 
 Testament mention of Satan, either as a person 
 or as an impersonal power or influence in the world. 
 
 (4) By the Jews in New Testament times, 
 Satan was imdoubtedly thought and spoken of as 
 a person, but whether or not correctly so, is a 
 question that I cannot answer. I cannot answer 
 it, because I find that in respect of ideas and 
 theories which were not esssential to His work, our 
 Saviour occasionally assumed the truth of things 
 that His hearers verily beHeved, but which, in the 
 fuller knowledge of to-day, we know to be imtrue. 
 For example, when He cursed the barren fig-tree 
 (Mark xi., 12-21), he asstimed what everybody 
 believed, that the tree had a volition of its own, 
 and was at least partly responsible for its own 
 
236 Satan 
 
 barrenness. So likewise in His works of healing 
 He assumed the presence of demons, as was then 
 the universal belief, in cases such as we now recog- 
 nize as paralysis, epileps}^ or insanity. Errors of 
 popular belief as to matters not essential to His 
 mission, He usually ignored. 
 
 Did this idea that Satan was a person come in 
 that class? I do not know; nor, as I look at it, is 
 it a matter of much consequence either way. As 
 respects any interest of life here or hereafter, I 
 fail to see that it makes any practical difference 
 whether we regard Satan as an individual person or 
 as an impersonal power, agency, or influence which 
 acting on or in us, makes for wickedness. The 
 result is identically the same in either case in so 
 far as it affects us. The question involved is 
 purely a question of dogma or doctrine, and is not 
 one of practical righteousness. 
 
 In saying that the writers of the New Testament 
 regarded Satan as a person, I ought perhaps to 
 make one exception. The author of the Epistle 
 of James tells us that the power which in us makes 
 for wickedness is human ''lust" (Jas. i., 14, 15). 
 The only passage in which he recognizes this power 
 as extrahuman and personal is in chapter iv., 7, 
 * ' Resist the devil , ' ' etc. Can this mean that, in his 
 apprehension, ''the devil" is but another name for 
 ' ' lust ' ' ? Perhaps so ; perhaps not. 
 
 The belief in a personal Satan probably arose 
 out of an effort to account for the origin of evil 
 in our world. At one time Jehovah was regarded 
 
Satan 237 
 
 not only as the author of good, but of evil as well, 
 the latter being the expression of His anger (II. 
 Sam. xxiv., i). The author of Genesis took it to 
 be one of a lower order of animals, a serpent. ^ 
 As, in course of time, these theories were found to 
 be untenable or unsatisfactory, some new one had 
 to be devised. The responsibility for the intro- 
 duction of evil into our world must be deposited 
 somewhere — it did not make much difference 
 where. The Satan of Job appears to have been a 
 convenient personage, and the responsibility was 
 accordingly shoved onto him. His name having 
 thus become associated with evil, the association 
 
 ^ There is an idea, which forms part of our general religious 
 thinking, that Satan in the form of a serpent was really the 
 tempter in Eden. Perhaps this is so, but we have no Scripture 
 authority for it. The writer of Genesis clearly entertained no 
 such conception. As already stated, the idea of Satan did not 
 then exist in Hebrew thought; and, what perhaps is equally to 
 the point, the curse pronounced on the tempter, "upon thy belly 
 shalt thou go," etc. (Gen. iii., 14) appUes exactly to a serpent, 
 and does not apply to any such personaHty as Satan is now 
 represented to be. Nor does any subsequent Biblical writer, 
 either directly or by implication, associate Satan with the Edenic 
 temptation. Paul is careful not to do so (II. Cor. xi., 3). The 
 passage that comes nearest to such association is Revelation 
 XX., 2, where Satan is called "the old serpent," but this designa- 
 tion does not identify him with serpents generally, nor with any 
 particular serpent of Biblical history (there are several such; 
 e.g.f Genesis xlix., 17; Ex. iv., 3; Num. xxi., 9); and still less does 
 it identify him with the serpent of the great temptation. The 
 author of the Book of Revelation should not be charged with 
 meaning something he did not say, especially in view of his own 
 prohibition of a curse on him who should add anything to his 
 record (Rev. xxii., 18). 
 
238 Satan 
 
 grew and developed in popular thought until 
 within a few centuries he came to be regarded as 
 the incarnation of every form of evil, even to the 
 extent of a malignant hostility to everything that 
 was good. 
 
 Thus far, I have assumed that the Satan of Job 
 was an actual personage, but if I should ever come 
 to know that he was purely an imaginary character, 
 it would not surprise me in the least, nor make a 
 particle of difference in my religious faith. The 
 Book of Job is a drama both in form and in sub- 
 stance, as would be perfectly obvious if it were 
 divided up into acts and scenes and printed with 
 the proper stage directions. It has been correctly 
 termed the "oldest drama in the world," and 
 published in convenient form to be read as such. 
 We cannot be certain that its subordinate dramatis 
 persoTKB are other than imaginary. Satan, as a 
 character in the drama, comes in this class. He 
 may be a real personage or only a made-up charac- 
 ter introduced for dramatic effect. If so, what is 
 said of him proves nothing material to our present 
 inquiry. 
 
 Perhaps, after all, Satan is only a name for 
 human ignorance, somewhat as we say the earth 
 is held in its orbit by gravitation ; but what gravi- 
 tation is, nobody knows. 
 
 The personification, under specific names, of 
 forces that we do not understand is not at all 
 unusual even with ourselves. We still think and 
 talk of an imaginary ** Nemesis" who persistently 
 
Satan 239 
 
 follows the invisible trail of the criminal and cannot 
 be shaken off. We think and talk about one of 
 the mysteries of our moral nature, which we name 
 conscience, calling it "dead," or ''active," or 
 "sensitive," just as if it were a person. Boreas, 
 in our thought, personifies the violent tempest, and 
 Neptune the chaotic sea. Such illustrations might 
 be multiplied, but these will suffice. 
 I close as I began: "I don't know." 
 Which theory is right, is piurely a matter of 
 opinion, and, so far as I can see, it makes no prac- 
 tical difference which theory any particular person 
 may adopt — ^unless he be a theologian, and I do 
 not belong in that class. 
 
SIN 
 
 A CORRECT understanding of what sin is lies 
 at the basis of a correct knowledge of Christianity ; 
 or, in other words, no man knows what Christianity 
 is — I mean the Christianity of the New Testament 
 — until he first learns what sin is. 
 
 The definition of sin contained in the Westmin- 
 ster Shorter Catechism may be theologically 
 correct, but practically (that is, to the moral 
 consciousness of the generaHty of men) it is but 
 little more than a meaningless collocation of 
 words. It runs thus : 
 
 "Sin is a want of conformity unto or transgres- 
 sion of the laws of God." (Ans. to Q. 14.) 
 
 In my boyhood days children were required to 
 memorize this definition, often before they knew 
 how to read. And a great many otherwise very 
 good men are still urging and insisting that this 
 and more than a hundred other answers equally 
 or still more abstruse, and to the comprehension 
 of a child equally meaningless, shall be an essential 
 part of a child's Sunday-school training. 
 
 It would be much better, at least from a prac- 
 tical standpoint, to say that sin is, or includes, 
 anything and everything that is morally wrong 
 
 240 
 
Sin 241 
 
 or impure, morally injurious, or debasing, or 
 defiling ; just (for illustration) as a spatter of mud 
 or filth of any kind will stain and defile a man's 
 shirt-front, or a woman's white skirt, and thereby 
 render the garment offensive to the sight and, un- 
 til cleaned, unfit for use. Sin is moral dirt. 
 
 When we leani to abhor sin as something that is 
 morally defiling, just as we abhor a stained, mud- 
 bespattered, filthy garment, and for the same reason 
 — because it is defiled and defiling — we shall at 
 least partially know and appreciate what Chris- 
 tianity is as an agency for getting rid of sin. 
 
 We shall then have a good start on the highroad 
 to the millennium; for sin is the source and cause 
 of all and every form of evil and suffering, physical, 
 mental, and moral, to which humanity is now 
 subject, and, so far as I know, it is the only fact or 
 agency that stands in the way of the coming of the 
 millennium. 
 
 It is a noticeable fact that the original meaning 
 of the Hebrew word "Satan" is "one that stands 
 in the way," hence an "adversary." (I. Chron. 
 xxi., I ; Zech. iii., i : R. V. marginal translation.) 
 
 Sin, in its moral aspect, that is, as something 
 morally defiling, is unknown in any heathen 
 religion of which I have any knowledge. Bud- 
 dhism, for example, knows nothing of sin, but seeks 
 to reform the world by the avoidance of suffering. 
 According to that system of belief, suffering comes 
 from desire: the man who has the fewest desires 
 is the happiest; hence suppression of desire leads 
 
242 Sin 
 
 to happiness. When a man has suppressed or 
 destroyed all feeling of desire, and has done it so 
 completely that he is not conscious of wanting or 
 dCwSiring anything, his state or condition, involving 
 physical deadness and mental vacuity to every- 
 thing external to himself, is "Nirvana, " or heaven 
 — a condition rather than a place. Thus sin is 
 wholly ignored in the Buddhist faith. 
 
 Our so-called Christian Science has a theory 
 that (if I correctly understand it) makes sin to be 
 an element of an imaginary or unreal develop- 
 ment of the moral system in which we live ; hence 
 sin is to be ignored as imaginary and unreal; so 
 that the Christian Scientist, by growing up or 
 training himself into a knowledge and practice 
 of that only which is essentially good, will leave 
 behind him that which is imaginary and unreal and 
 sinful — somewhat, perhaps, as a skilled seaman 
 will (if he can) sail out of a fog and leave it behind. 
 It is then of no further interest to him. While he 
 was in it, it obscured his vision, and furnished him 
 no sailing-directions. To that extent, and for 
 that reason, it was to him unreal. Sin and suffer- 
 ing and disease are, in ^Christian Science, nothing 
 but a moral fog-bank, to be gotten rid of by 
 sailing out of it. 
 
 Thus sin is practically ignored in the Christian 
 Science system of belief. 
 
 Chinese Confucianism, on the other hand, is 
 directed primarily to the cultivation and practice 
 of a highly developed moral code that is based on, 
 
Sin 243 
 
 or begins with, the theory that evil and suffering 
 result from a failure or neglect to maintain correct 
 relations with one's surroundings or environment, 
 including the natural laws under which we Hve. 
 Consequently the maintenance of such correct 
 relations in all the interests and ramifications of 
 life, social, civil, and poHtical, and also as regards 
 the multitude of spirits, evil and good, that fill all 
 space, is the means of avoiding evil, calamity, 
 and suffering of every kind. Conformity with the 
 relations established by nature, and by one's lot 
 in life, is the primary rule of Hving and doing. 
 
 Here also sin is ignored. 
 
 The Epicurean philosophers of ancient Greece 
 said, ''Take life as it comes and enjoy it.'" The 
 Stoics said, ''Take life as it comes and endure it. " 
 Neither system of belief knew or taught anything 
 of sin. 
 
 Judaism and Christianity, and the religions de- 
 rived therefrom, are the only systems, so far as 
 my knowledge goes, that contain or embody any- 
 thing like a correct idea or conception of sin. 
 
 As we loathe a soiled garment, so we must learn 
 to abhor a soiled moral consciousness that tolerates 
 or looks otherwise than with disapproval on any- 
 thing that is impure or savors of impurity, whether 
 in thought, word, or deed. 
 
 To illustrate : A friend of mine once, in describ- 
 ing a third person about whom I asked, said, inter 
 alia: "He is so clean, and of such delicate sensibil- 
 ity, that if an impure thought should chance to 
 
244 Sin 
 
 come into his mind, I really think it would make 
 him blush. " 
 
 Perhaps the description was overdrawn, but it 
 illustrates what I mean. 
 
 I apprehend that this is the reason why God 
 abhors sin : not so much because it is a violation of 
 His law, but rather because He is himself so in- 
 effably pure that even the sight of anything impure 
 anywhere in His universe is offensive to Him ; and 
 the degree of its offensiveness is perhaps measured 
 by the infinite perfection of His purity. 
 
 Now, while there can be no possible objection 
 to the vigorous efforts made by our clergy to 
 convince their congregations of the sinfulness of 
 sin, I think the end to be accomplished — the 
 destruction of sin — will sooner be attained by the 
 training up of men and women to a standard of 
 purity of thought and life, so that anything impure 
 will be shunned and avoided because of its impurity. 
 It then becomes offensive to us. When sin ceases 
 to be pleasant there will be no sinners. As long 
 as it is pleasant, or as long as we think it so, 
 sermons on the sinfulness of sin will slide from our 
 consciences as easily as dew from a cabbage-leaf, 
 and without leaving even a wet spot behind. 
 
 In one aspect of the case — and not a theoretical 
 aspect either — sin is the result of moral disease, 
 and the best, and perhaps the only, way to get 
 rid of it is to cure the disease, and this by improving 
 the moral status or condition of the individual 
 sinner. If the tree be good, the fruit will be good, 
 
Sin 245 
 
 and not otherwise (Matt, vii., 18), a fact too often 
 forgotten by those who are seeking to reform the 
 world by legislation. People cannot be made good 
 by act of Congress. Prohibitory laws are utterly 
 useless except as they may hold in restraint the 
 active and aggressive agents of wrong-doing. In 
 many physical diseases, as is well understood, if 
 the vitality of the system can be improved, or 
 sometimes even maintained, the patient will get 
 well of himself. 
 
 I have used a filthy garment to illustrate what 
 sin is, but there is one point of difference: the 
 garment can ordinarily be cleansed so perfectly as 
 to obliterate all trace of the defilement; but a 
 defiled moral consciousness can never, at least 
 by any process now known to us, be restored to its 
 original unstained purity. Possibly it may be 
 done in the next world, but not in this. The 
 guilt incurred by each of us on account of having, 
 by a sinful life, worked his own moral defilement y 
 may be provided for under oin- system of the 
 atonement, but the moral stains on one's self 
 cannot be wholly obliterated — at least, not in this 
 life. A sin committed produces something more 
 than a stain; it leaves a scar, a moral deformity. 
 The hymn ' ' Wash me, and I shall be whiter than 
 snow" expresses a Christian ideal, but for its 
 attainment we shall have to wait till we get to the 
 other side of Jordan. 
 
 A question as to the imity of the race has been 
 much discussed : are all of the present races of the 
 
246 Sin 
 
 world descended from a common pair of ancestors? 
 Physical reasons seem to me to necessitate an 
 affirmative answer; but even if it were otherwise, 
 the phenomena of sin indicate clearly to my mind 
 that, from a moral standpoint and in matters of 
 moral guilt and obligation, the race is a unit; for 
 under like conditions all branches of the race have 
 the same tendency to sin, and such tendency runs 
 uniformly in the direction of the same sins; all 
 are subject to the same feeling of guilt on learning 
 what sin is, and all have the same capacity for 
 repentance on being convicted of sin — in varying 
 degrees, perhaps, but the same in kind. So far 
 as has yet been ascertained, the moral organization 
 of humanity, like its physical, was originally made 
 from a single pattern, and its development, 
 whether upward for the better, or downward for 
 the worse, lies along the same lines. This being 
 so, we may reasonably conclude that the same 
 means of salvation are equally suited to the wants 
 of all ; and herein the facts as we find them coincide 
 with and confirm the assurances of Holy Writ. 
 Righteousness versus sin is the great question 
 of the universe. When that reaches its final 
 solution, the other question of salvation versus 
 death will disappear. 
 
THREE ANCIENT TRADITIONS 
 
 While I think that ''Adam and Eden," as set 
 forth in Genesis i.-iii., is largely a made-up story, 
 though made up and told for reasons that more 
 than justify the telling, I also think that next 
 following we have a record of three exceedingly 
 ancient traditions which were preserved in the 
 Semitic family for untold centuries, and each of 
 which has enough of a historical character fully 
 to justify its place in the record. These three 
 traditions involve: 
 
 1. The Beginnings of Civilization. 
 
 2. The Deluge. 
 
 3. Babel. 
 
 But before considering their significance, it may 
 be well to get, if we can, something like an approxi- 
 mate idea of their antiquity. 
 
 The earliest Biblical date which can be even 
 approximately fixed is that of the first migration 
 of Abraham (Gen. xi., 31), say about 2100 B.C., 
 though this may include an error of perhaps two 
 hundred years. At that time Semitic civiHzation 
 was well established in the Euphrates valley. 
 By an ancient inscription discovered some years 
 
 ago, we learn that a Semite king of Babylon, Sar- 
 
 247 
 
248 Three Ancient Traditions 
 
 gon the First, had carried his conquests westward 
 to the shores of the Mediterranean somewhere 
 about fifteen hundred years earlier, — say about 
 
 3500 B.C. 
 
 We also learn from the records foimd in the 
 ruins of the distant East that a civilization some- 
 times known as Accadian (Gen. x., 10), and by 
 some antiquarians believed to be of Turanian or 
 Tartar origin, prevailed in the Euphrates valley 
 prior to its conquest by the Semites. The date, or 
 even the probable date, of this conquest is un- 
 known. We can only say that it was probably 
 some considerable time, say several centuries, 
 earlier than 3500 B.C. For our present purpose, 
 but only as "a working theory," and always 
 subject to correction, I will assume that it was not 
 far from about 4000 B.C. 
 
 How many centuries back of this we must go 
 in order to stand at the very beginnings of Semitic 
 civilization, is purely a matter of conjecture; but 
 from what we know of the slow development of 
 other nations that are still hardly out of barbarism, 
 a thousand years would be a moderate estimate. 
 Two, three, or even five thousand years are more 
 probable periods, but this will do. 
 
 Bear in mind that these traditions certainly 
 antedate any historical record yet discovered. 
 Many nations have traditions more or less nearly 
 allied to these (of which more presently), but 
 nowhere do we find any such fact or event narrated 
 in the line of history. In every case the tradition 
 
Three Ancient Traditions 249 
 
 lies back of any known historical record. Hence 
 it will be understood that the dates above given 
 are minimum dates, and are given only as possible 
 stepping-stones to further conclusions. 
 
 The Book of Genesis was put in its present shape, 
 we may say with reasonable certainty, not earlier 
 than the time of Moses, or approximately 1500 
 
 B.C. 
 
 Hence we must allow something like thirty-five 
 centuries at least, and perhaps twice or three 
 times that period, between the dates of these tradi- 
 tions and the earliest known date to which can be 
 assigned the making of the oldest of our BibHcal 
 records. Counting back from the present, a Hke 
 period would take us back nearly to the time of 
 Moses. In other words, these traditions must be 
 at least as much older than Moses as Moses is 
 older than we are. 
 
 Let us now consider these traditions in their 
 order : 
 
 I. The Beginnings of Civilization. 
 
 Briefly the record rims thus : 
 
 "Jabal was the father of such as dwell in tents 
 and have cattle." 
 
 '' Jubal was the father of all such as handle the 
 harp and pipe." 
 
 "Tubal-cain, the forger of every cutting instru- 
 ment of brass and iron. " (Gen. iv., 20-22.) 
 
 Obviously, these extracts relate to the founding 
 of the arts or occupations of the herdsman, the 
 musician, and the metal-worker, or ironmaster. 
 
250 Three Ancient Traditions 
 
 Agriculture was doubtless much older, but the 
 name of its ''patron saint" was lost. But even 
 down to the time of Moses, the names of the other 
 three were still preserved in the old traditions or 
 folk-lore of the race ; and they are recorded by the 
 sacred historian as the next things in importance 
 after the fall and the expulsion of Adam and Eve 
 from the garden of Eden. 
 
 The ancient Aryans were never much given to 
 herding or cattle-raising on a large scale, and 
 perhaps this is the reason why, as an occupation, 
 it has no place in our early traditions ; nor have we 
 any record or tradition of its ''father" or founder; 
 but as to the other two, music and metallurgy, 
 the names of Pan and Vulcan are still held by us 
 in nominal veneration. 
 
 I should conjecture that cattle-raising in that 
 early day meant wealth; that music signified 
 pleasure; and that metallurgy stood for manu- 
 facturing interests as related to the attainment 
 of the ordinary comforts and conveniences of life. 
 If so, the main objects and aims of practical, 
 every-day life have not changed much from the 
 times of Jabal and Jubal and Tubal-cain, down to 
 the days of Armour and Wagner and Andrew 
 Carnegie. Meat, music, and metals are still the 
 sine qua non of the life that we live. Men change 
 as individuals, but generic man never changes. 
 We are still working and living on and along the 
 same Hnes on which civiHzation was begun many 
 thousand years ago, animated by the same mo- 
 
Three Ancient Traditions 251 
 
 tives, working for the same ends, and very largely 
 by the same instnimentalities. The various races 
 of cattle have undergone no material change since 
 Jabal, from his tent-door, counted his herds and 
 congratulated himself on their increasing numbers ; 
 the stringed and wind instruments of to-day are 
 lineal descendants (degenerates, some of them) of 
 the harp and pipe of Jubal; and while we have 
 no record of the metal-working appliances of the 
 ancient days of Tubal-cain, the fundamental 
 principles involved in the earliest known furnaces 
 of three thousand years ago are still utilized in the 
 mills at Homestead, Bessemer, and McKeesport. 
 Doubtless through these, the principal and 
 fundamental elements of actual life and prosperity, 
 the foundations of .an extensive and well-developed 
 civilization were laid. With a wealth of flocks and 
 herds, the luxury of music and song and the 
 personal comforts that we get through the metal- 
 worker — with these well developed into their 
 various derivative arts, as would be inevitable 
 after the beginnings were made, substantially 
 everything that is involved in the highest develop- 
 ment of the best city life of to-day would be 
 attainable, and, as we may reasonably infer, was 
 actually attained. The only exceptions are 
 painting, sculpture, printing, and navigation. Is 
 it not said that Cain built a city? And should the 
 rest of the world, having the means at hand, not 
 know how? And must we not prestmie in a city 
 life the practical use and enjoyment of everything 
 
252 Three Ancient Traditions 
 
 then attainable that belongs to a life of that kind? 
 In fact, we have no historical record anywhere or 
 of any kind that antedates a city as distinguished 
 from a country life. According to this tradi- 
 tion, they were developed together, side by side, 
 and at a period of time far back of any existing 
 historical record. 
 
 That the sons of Shem were proud of their civili- 
 zation, just as we are proud of ours, is sufficiently 
 proven by the tenacity with which, for so many 
 thousand years, they carried in memory and 
 prescribed by tradition a knowledge of its begin- 
 nings. Time could not obliterate it, nor could the 
 deluge wash it out. This feeling of civic pride 
 permeates all Semitic literature, and perhaps 
 especially the very ancient Book of Job, for its 
 author takes evident pleasure in his occasional 
 references to flocks and herdsmen (Job xlii., 12), 
 to music (Job xxi., 11, 12), and to the work of the 
 ironmaster (Job xxviii). 
 
 Nor have I overlooked the fact that Jabal and 
 Jubal and Tubal-cain are represented as of the line 
 of Cain and not of Seth, from the latter of whom 
 the Jews derived their descent. Why this is done 
 is not explained. Most probably it means that 
 these elements of Semitic civilization were not 
 original with that race, but were borrowed from 
 some neighboring people — perhaps somewhat as 
 the Japanese have more recently borrowed from 
 the Western nations the art of war. Such 
 borrowing is quite common. We ourselves have 
 
Three Ancient Traditions 253 
 
 borrowed our alphabet from Tyre and Sidon; our 
 mathematics from Arabia; our Hterature from 
 Greece; our law from Rome; our religion from 
 Jerusalem. 
 
 Obviously, this old tradition of the beginnings of 
 civilization, though brief in its record, includes a 
 very large section of the early history of the remote 
 ancestors of the Semitic races, and as such is well 
 entitled to the place it holds in the Biblical records, 
 and is equally well entitled to acceptance and 
 credence for the knowledge it gives us. 
 
 Possibly with further discoveries among the 
 ruins of the distant East it may acquire a new and 
 still larger meaning. There is no danger that it 
 will ever be discredited, for it runs strictly along 
 the lines of human experience, and is rigidl}^ 
 consonant with the fact of history and with what 
 might reasonably be expected to be true. 
 
 But we really have no data b}^ which to deter- 
 mine the time of the beginnings of civilization. 
 That part of the Book of Genesis which antedates 
 the first migration of Abraham, though doubtless 
 including many matters of fact, can scarcely be 
 regarded as history in the modern sense of the 
 word. Still less can we look to it for any reliable 
 information in matters of chronology, for though 
 the Jews preserved family pedigrees with great 
 care, they cared little for the particular dates of 
 the general events of history, as the Book of Judges 
 sufficiently proves. When man first appeared on 
 the earth is not known even approximately. Our 
 
254 Three Ancient Traditions 
 
 geologists tell us that the earth has been in condi- 
 tion for his occupancy for an unknown but very 
 long period, variously estimated at from fifty to a 
 hundred thousand years. But when he actually 
 came on the scene, nobody knows. How long he 
 lived in a state of savagery and barbarism is just 
 as little known. Some, in fact some millions, of 
 the race are in that state or condition yet. Hence 
 the beginnings of civilization, as reported in 
 Genesis, must be referred to a very remote anti- 
 quity, so remote that nothing whatever can be 
 said as to its date. 
 
 2. The Deluge. 
 
 It is evident that at some time or other some 
 great disaster in the nature of a tropical tornado or 
 cyclone overwhelmed a stretch or area of territory 
 then occupied by the particular people from whom 
 the Hebrew tribes claimed descent; and so over- 
 whelming was the disaster that only a single 
 family was known to have escaped. Torrents of 
 rain fell from the clouds, and a tidal wave from the 
 sea swept inward over the land (Gen. vii., 6), to 
 the destruction of all animal life within the sub- 
 merged territory (verse 2i). 
 
 At this time, however (whenever it was), 
 civilization had so far progressed that the arts 
 of ship-building and navigation were well known. 
 According to the understanding of the writer, a 
 long period had elapsed since the days of Jabal, 
 Jubal, and Tubal-cain, a period variously esti- 
 mated, from the chronologies given, at from one 
 
Three Ancient Traditions 255 
 
 thousand to two thousand years; but really we 
 know nothing as to its length. The escape of the 
 single family of Noah is attributed by the writer, 
 first, to the fact that Noah was providentially 
 warned of the coming disaster in ample time, and 
 second, was sufficiently versed in ship-building 
 and navigation to make the necessary provision 
 for safety. 
 
 As to the territory covered by this disaster, we 
 can only infer that it extended from a contiguous 
 seacoast line to ''the mountains of Ararat" (Gen. 
 viii., 4), which would seem to mean the Euphrates 
 valley. - The statement that all the earth was sub- 
 merged, and all animal Hfe destroy^, is evidently 
 the statement of an eye-witness. While the ark, 
 bearing Noah and his company, was floating on the 
 waste of waters, there was no land nor life in sight. 
 
 That such a disaster should at some time have 
 befallen the occupants of some seacoast territory 
 is nothing especially remarkable. That at least 
 one of the inhabitants, particiilarly if he was 
 familiar with the ways of the sea, with wind and 
 weather, should have had some premonitions of 
 the coming storm might naturally be expected. 
 If, so far as he knew, when it was all over, he and 
 his family were the sole survivors, it need excite no 
 wonder if he and his descendants so narrated it 
 till it became a fixed tradition. 
 
 Hence at least the leading events of the tradi- 
 tion contain nothing improbable, and are worthy 
 of credence. 
 
256 Three Ancient Traditions 
 
 As to the time when the deluge occurred, 
 everything I have said as to the antiquity of the 
 Jabal et al. tradition applies here also. Though 
 ten or twenty centuries may have intervened, 
 both events go so far back into the darkness of 
 antiquity that no date can be assigned to either. 
 And as to the deluge, we have two or three 
 additional facts that indicate an indeterminate 
 antiquity. 
 
 (i) The recorded fact that the ark finally 
 grounded "upon the mountains of Ararat" (Gen. 
 viii., 4) would seem to indicate that the highlands 
 of Armenia w^ere once the home of the ancestors of 
 the Semitic races. If so, then the time of the 
 deluge must have been long prior to any period 
 of which we have historical record; for, from the 
 earliest dawn of history, that territory has been 
 occupied by tribes either of Aryan or Turanian 
 origin. If the Semites' ever held that country, it 
 must have been many thousands of years ago. 
 
 (2) Traditions of a devastating deluge are 
 found among many widely scattered nations of 
 widely different racial descent. Every such tradi- 
 tion antedates any and every historic record of 
 every such nation. 
 
 (3) According to the arrangement of the text, 
 the writer considered that the deluge antedated 
 the division (at Babel) and the consequent dispersal 
 of at least three of the leading races of the earth — 
 the sons of Japheth (Aryan), the sons of Shem 
 (Semitic), and the sons of Ham (African). 
 
Three Ancient Traditions 257 
 
 The time when that division occurred is as 
 completely unknown and as indeterminable as is 
 the date of the creation of man . 
 
 But this deluge tradition has a religious signi- 
 ficance that gives it its chief value, and but for 
 which it is doubtful if any record of it would have 
 been made. Herein chief prominence is given not 
 to the deluge itself, but rather : 
 
 (a) To the divine agency which brought it 
 about ; 
 
 (b) To the reasons wh}^ Jehovah did it; and 
 
 (c) To the exalted faith exercised by the sole 
 survivor; and to the fact that, on account of such 
 faith, he and his family survived. 
 
 The impressive inculcation of these three lessons 
 furnished abundant reason for the preservation 
 of the ancient tradition. 
 
 (a) The first lesson was the supremacy of 
 Jehovah, which was the fundamental article of the 
 monotheistic faith of the Hebrew tribes. But for 
 this, the Jewish religion would have been merel}?- 
 one of a hundred reHgions, perhaps better than the 
 others, but with no warrant for laying claim to 
 being the only religion. 
 
 (b) As to the second point. Why did Jehovah 
 do it? the answer is, as narrated in the record 
 (Gen. vi., 5-12), because the entire race was wicked, 
 overwhelmed with wickedness, saturated with 
 wickedness, wicked in everything it did or tried 
 or planned to do, wicked from the initial thought 
 through to the final act. In the conception of 
 
258 Three Ancient Traditions 
 
 the writer, it was so entirely gone in wickedness as 
 to be beyond all hope of redemption. 
 
 Now, in Semitic thought, when any person or 
 people met with disaster or calamity, or even 
 serious misfortune, such a fact alone argued, and 
 argued conclusively, that such person or people 
 had sinned, and the greatness or extent of the 
 calamity was a correct measure of the greatness of 
 the sin (John ix., 2). 
 
 Hence when the sacred writer wanted us to know 
 how excessively wicked humanity had got to be, he 
 illustrated and proved his statements by telling 
 us what an awful disaster it met with. In his 
 conception, the disaster proved the wickedness of 
 the victims, and its awfulness proved the depth, 
 extent, and depravity of such wickedness. 
 
 (c) The third lesson was a lesson of faith and its 
 reward (Heb. xi., 7), a lesson that humanity then 
 needed to learn; a lesson that God*s messengers 
 have been proclaiming to wicked men during all 
 the intermediate ages, and a lesson that will 
 continue to be taught to the end of time. 
 
 Obviously, the inculcation of these three lessons 
 was a sufficient reason for the recording of this 
 old tradition of the deluge, and this, too, even if the 
 tradition had, before the writer's time, grown by 
 repetition until it included some details that to us 
 seem improbable. The man who measures the 
 square feet of floor-surface in the ark with reference 
 to the standing-room required for male and female 
 representatives of the whole animal kingdom, and 
 
Three Ancient Traditions 259 
 
 regulates thereby his belief in divine revelation, 
 has yet to learn the meaning of this record. The 
 man who, to the neglect of the intended lessons, 
 seeks to convert questions of ship-building and 
 the stabling of animals into articles of faith and 
 standards of orthodoxy is badly in need of further 
 Hght. At least such is my opinion. 
 3. BaheL 
 
 The third of these old traditions is that of Babel. 
 Like the other two, it goes back for its origin to an 
 indeterminate time. There are no data now exist- 
 ing by which we can compute even the probable 
 time when the sons of Shem, Ham, and Japheth 
 separated and each went his own way. 
 
 Except as I shall presently mention, I do not 
 see that this Babel tradition has any particular 
 religious significance. But the writer of Genesis 
 was evidently an ethnologist of wide observation 
 and high attainments; Genesis x., the oldest 
 ethnological record in existence, sufficiently proves 
 that. While he believed in the unity of mankind, 
 he was apparently imable to give any scientific 
 explanation of the great differences that he ob- 
 served between the languages of different races. In 
 fact, except as between cognate races, such differ- 
 ences have not been explained yet. But the writer 
 did the best he could and gave us an explanation 
 that doubtless accorded with the best science of 
 his day. 
 
 He foimd in existence, and adopted for his use, 
 an old tradition to the effect that the descendants 
 
26o Three Ancient Traditions 
 
 of those who survived the deluge, preferring, as 
 many a migratory people has done since, the 
 productiveness of a river- valley to the compara- 
 tive sterility of a mountainous region, migrated 
 from the Ararat uplands, where the deluge had 
 left them, back to their old homes, to a locality 
 known as Shinar, down in the low and level plains 
 of the Euphrates. To avoid future danger, they 
 set out to build a tower so high that no tidal- 
 wave could submerge it. Before it was finished, 
 they got into a wrangle about something; verbal 
 disagreements led to, or by frequent repetitions 
 were magnified into, linguistic differences; the 
 divergent parties became different races ; and each 
 went a different way. This explanation was 
 satisfactory then; and while we reject it, our best 
 scholars have found none that is better. 
 
 The leading religious lesson that the writer had 
 in mind was probably this: the impiousness and 
 foolishness of thinking and trying to outwit God. 
 The failure to do so was a failure then ; nor has it 
 ever succeeded since. 
 
 I cannot help admiring the honest simplicity 
 and ingenuousness of the writer, and his scholarly 
 attainments as well, in thus working the religious 
 truths he wished to teach into the cherished tradi- 
 tions of his remote ancestors. It made pleasant 
 reading. Ponderous treatises on theology may 
 come and go, but these stories of the infancy of 
 our race will, like the babbling brook, "go on 
 forever." The world will never tire of reading 
 
Three Ancient Traditions 261 
 
 them. Even to the matiire mind they are as 
 charming as ^Esop's Fables, Grimm's Tales, and 
 the folk-lore of Odin and Thor; and like them, 
 each has its own moral, so obvious on its face that 
 he who runs may read. But in our modern line 
 of thought we have carelessly or studiously neg- 
 lected the moral of the stor^^- in order to swear to 
 the literal truth of its details. The latter, though 
 of great literary interest, are, in my view, of little 
 consequence otherwise, except as a means of 
 bringing the moral of the story, or its intended 
 religious teaching, within the easy apprehension 
 of everybody. The man who throws away the 
 oyster, and tries to masticate the shell, belongs 
 to the same class as he who, forgetting the moral, 
 makes the story itself an essential article of faith. 
 
SOME PENALTIES AND A PROMISE 
 
 As a result of the introduction of sin into the 
 world, the sacred writer informs us, certain penal- 
 ties were inflicted on the active agents through 
 whom it was brought about — the serpent, the man, 
 and the woman (Gen. iii., 14-19). 
 
 But the singular fact is that the penalties 
 imposed contained nothing that was new to the 
 organization of the particular individuals affected 
 thereby. Thus nothing new was involved in the 
 penalty imposed on the serpent: "Upon thy belly 
 shalt thou go"; for the serpent had always so 
 wriggled its way along from the day of its creation. 
 "Thorns and thistles" were not a new infliction, 
 for the earth had produced them from the early 
 days of its fertility. Of man and his present 
 physical organization, we can truthfully say that 
 he and it were specially adapted for work and toil 
 and sweat, whereby to acquire necessary susten- 
 ance, nor did his penalty make him any more so. 
 And as for woman, her lot after sentence contained 
 nothing of suffering beyond what her physical 
 condition already necessitated. As has been 
 frequently remarked, the history and condition 
 of the earth clearly indicate that it was originally 
 
 262 
 
Some Penalties and a Promise 263 
 
 designed, built, and equipped, not for an Edenic 
 life, but for the occupancy of just such a sinful 
 race as now lives on it. None of the penalties 
 above referred to have subjected any of the guilty 
 parties to any physical punishment outside of 
 what appears to have been, in the orderings of 
 nature, his, her, or its previously appointed lot. 
 
 Hence, according to Anglo-Saxon ideas, none 
 of these penalties were really in the nature of 
 punishments for the particular offense in question. 
 But the Semitic peoples looked at these matters 
 very differently. In their way of thinking, crime 
 and suffering always went together; or, rather, the 
 latter invariably followed the former; and they 
 seldom troubled themselves with any distinction 
 between a misfortime that was caused hy or 
 resulted from a crime. To them the sequence was 
 enough. If a party was guilty, and soon after- 
 ward met with misfortune of any kind, the two 
 were associated together in their line of thought, 
 and inseparably associated, just as if it were a 
 clear case of cause and effect (Luke xiii., 1-4). 
 This mode of thinking was of course very illogical, 
 but the Orientals as a general rule are not logical 
 and never were. 
 
 Now, the Anglo-Saxons, being generally more 
 accustomed to logical habits of thought, are unable 
 to understand how a penalty that does not embody, 
 or in some way contain, some new and objection- 
 able experience to the individual, can be to him a 
 punishment. If the serpent always went on his 
 
264 Some Penalties and a Promise 
 
 belly, and could not possibly go in any other way, 
 how could it be a punishment to him for a new 
 offense to be told that for the future he must 
 always go that way? 
 
 Still, we Anglo-Saxons retain even yet a trace 
 of the same illogical style of reasoning, though we 
 partially conceal it by the use of such phrases as 
 "the eternal fitness of things," or ''good enough 
 for him," or "serves him right." It is only in 
 accordance with "the eternal fitness of things" 
 that reptiles so obnoxious and repulsive and 
 treacherous and dangerous as are the serpents of 
 tropical countries should crawl on their bellies 
 to the end of time. Such a life is "good enough" 
 for a snake, and "serves him right" for being a 
 snake — and this without regard to any crime that 
 may be laid to his charge. 
 
 And we sometimes argue, or at least think, the 
 same way about some men. Our regrets are 
 coldly spoken, or not spoken at all, when we have 
 in mind the misfortimes of men who are excessively 
 mean, or inordinately selfish, or unusually brutal, 
 or for any reason are objects of hatred or contempt. 
 Even though the misfortune may have no relation 
 to the offensive characteristics of the man, still 
 we think, though politeness may forbid us to say 
 it, "good enough for him, " or "serves him right. " 
 
 Such, as I apprehend the matter, is with us the 
 residual remnant of the old Semitic idea that mis- 
 fortune or calamity necessarily implies a pre- 
 existent crime, and that the former is the intended 
 
Some Penalties and a Promise 265 
 
 punishment for the latter. So construed, I can 
 understand the record of the penalties referred to. 
 
 But it may be that the writer of this accoimt, 
 under the form of a parable of a crime and its 
 penalties, was really intending to tell us something 
 else. In what I have said of "Adam and Eden" 
 I have explained that one probable purpose of the 
 narrative was to tell us that man was responsible 
 for the introduction of sin into the world and for 
 all the moral evil appertaining thereto or resist- 
 ing therefrom. It was, perhaps, still further the 
 thought of the writer that man was also responsible 
 for the physical badness which exists in himself 
 and in all animate nature — for its "thorns and 
 thistles" — ^for the physical necessity that compels 
 man to work in order that he may live, and also 
 for the suffering incident to the reproduction of 
 life, and that all this, in some way which he could 
 not explain (nor can we), came about through or on 
 accoimt of his own volimtary sin. If such was the 
 writer's thought, we must say of him that, as 
 regards a knowledge of the moral system of the 
 universe in respect of its beginnings, he knew 
 quite as much as we know now, and quite as much 
 as we are likely to find out, at least in the present 
 life. The final solution of this, and of many like 
 questions, will probably belong to another life in 
 another world. 
 
 I turn now to the promise of Genesis ix., 12-17, 
 the rainbow and its meaning. 
 
 Apparently the same line of thought that led to 
 
266 Some Penalties and a Promise 
 
 the association of an old penalty with a new crime 
 led also to the association of an old rainbow with a 
 new but confident hope or expectation, divinely- 
 supported: that the deluge of Noah was so excep- 
 tional or extraordinary an event that its like 
 would never occur again. Abstractly the rainbow 
 of Noah had no more relation to the deluge-storm 
 than any other rainbow had to the particular 
 shower that produced it ; but a new association of 
 ideas was established by the promise. The rain- 
 bow then meant something, and probably for the 
 first time ; since with the little scientific knowledge 
 then available, it is doubtful if anybody at that 
 time knew how a rainbow was produced. Prob- 
 ably this, like other mysteries of nature, such as 
 the blowing of the wind (II. Sam. v., 24), was 
 attributed directly to divine agency. But now 
 the God to whom they ascribed it assured them 
 that thereafter it would have a meaning. Grate- 
 fully and joyfully they accepted the assurance 
 without troubling themselves as to how or why. 
 It was enough for them to know that a relationship 
 of some kind was divinely established. Whether 
 it was purely artificial or imaginary, as distin- 
 guished from causative, is a question they never 
 stopped to consider. Hence the record, as they 
 understood and applied it, was rigidly true, and 
 highly instructive as well as true, in that it estab- 
 lished to their satisfaction, and gave them a 
 perpetual reminder, that: 
 
 ''While the earth remaineth seedtime and 
 
Some Penalties and a Promise 267 
 
 harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, 
 and day and night shall not cease" (Gen. viii., 22). 
 
 Nor is it anything unusual in our own ways of 
 thinking to give an old object a new meaning. We 
 frequently convert natural objects into perpetual 
 memorials of something else. Thunder-storms 
 were not new in the Catskills when Henry Hudson 
 first sailed up the river that still bears his name, 
 but the Rip Van Winkle legend gave to such a 
 storm a new association in the minds of men. 
 After Julius Caesar theatrically crossed the insig- 
 nificant stream that formed one of the boundaries 
 of Rome, the new meaning then acquired by its 
 old name, the Rubicon, became permanently 
 historic. But such illustrations are too common to 
 require further citation. 
 
 I think it highly probable that the rainbow- 
 promise may have had another meaning. As I 
 have elsewhere explained, in ''Three Ancient 
 Traditions, " the deluge was thought to have been 
 necessitated by the extent and depravity of human 
 wickedness. But it was now promised that such a 
 necessity would never again arise; or, as I would 
 conjecture, it was believed that by or as a result 
 of some new or more efficient form or manifestation 
 of divine agency, entering the world and acting 
 in the hearts and on the lives of men, the race 
 would never again reach such depths of wickedness 
 as to require the employment of so drastic and 
 destructive a remedy. From the new standpoint 
 then occupied, the race was to be and would be 
 
268 Some Penalties and a Promise 
 
 saved and not again destroyed. Perhaps this 
 was what the rainbow ultimately meant; that is, 
 that the world would thereafter grow better 
 instead of worse. If so, the promise has not been 
 left wholly unfulfilled. 
 
 In the spirit in which Sancho Panza said, "Bless- 
 ings on him who invented sleep, " I would devoutly 
 say: "Blest be the man who invented the rain- 
 bow," for it contains the initiatory promise and 
 pledge of the millennium. 
 
THE STORY OF THE CREATION 
 
 In Adam and Eden (Vol. iii., p. i) I have stated 
 my belief that the account of the temptation and 
 the fall was not historical, and was not intended 
 to be, but rather was allegorical, and this for 
 sufificient reasons and good purposes as there 
 stated. 
 
 In "Three Ancient Traditions" (i) the Jabal, 
 Jubal and Tubal-cain story, (2) the deluge 
 accoimt, and (3) the Babel episode, I have recog- 
 nized as to each a historical substratum or basis, 
 but have pointed out how exceedingly ancient 
 must be the facts or occurrences from which each 
 of these traditions took its origin, really going 
 back of and far beyond any historical record or 
 knowledge now existent anywhere — that is to say, 
 over and above what is here recorded. 
 
 Of the story of the creation, I think it quite 
 clear: (i) that it is not allegorical, but is a genuine 
 record of a divine revelation; (2) that, viewed 
 solely from a scientific standpoint, it so far con- 
 forms with the best science of the present day that 
 it is entitled to rank as a true and correct, though 
 exceedingly brief, sketch of the work of creation; 
 (3) that, in point of antiquity, this revelation goes 
 
 269 
 
270 The Story of the Creation 
 
 back and is lost in the same historical darkness as 
 the "Three Ancient Traditions" above referred to, 
 and possibly was much earlier than any of them. 
 
 We may be reasonably sure that it came origin- 
 ally by divine revelation, because, so far as we 
 know or can fairly surmise, there was no other way 
 by which it could have become known to the 
 inhabitants of the earth, for it was evidently 
 impossible that human eyes could have been there 
 to see and make record of the work as it originated 
 and progressed. Our best scientists tell us that 
 through the millions of years prior to about the 
 time designated as ''the fifth day" the earth was 
 not in condition for the occupancy of man; in 
 fact, until about that time man, with his present 
 physical organization, could not have lived on its 
 surface. Hence, whatever actual knowledge the 
 race may have acquired, as to the origin of the 
 earth and of all things that are therein, must have 
 come from some superhuman source and by what 
 we call revelation. 
 
 Nor could this story have been made up, since, 
 at the latest date to which the writing of Genesis 
 can possibly be assigned, the science involved in 
 the orderly and successive steps of this narrative 
 did not exist; for modem science is exceedingly 
 modem. I can readily see that an attentive ob- 
 server of a remote antiquity might have surmised, 
 and perhaps might have concluded, that animal life 
 was impossible until the earth was well stocked with 
 vegetation; that fish could not have lived until 
 
The Story of the Creation 271 
 
 they had water to swim in; and that vegetation 
 could not have been looked for until a fertile soil 
 was provided; but for any reasonable theory as 
 to how there came to be a soil, and how it came to 
 be fertile, and where the ocean rame from, the 
 data though observable, as we now know, were not 
 apprehended or understood imtil very recently. 
 There was not enough known at that early date to 
 justify even an intelligent guess as to the origin 
 of things, either animate or inanimate. The 
 monstrous guesses found in the cosmogonies of 
 unciviHzed nations furnish almost conclusive 
 proof that the Genesis story of the creation is 
 something a good deal higher than guesswork. 
 So accurate is it that the best science of the world 
 to-day cannot in the same number of words tell 
 it any better. 
 
 Certainly the first man who put that story in 
 cognizable form, either oral or written, not only 
 knew what he was talking about, but he knew it 
 from some source external to himself. He had no 
 science to guide him in shaping it; he could not 
 have guessed it; he may have dreamed it, and I 
 think it highly probable that by means of a dream 
 or series of dreams, it was first made known; but 
 there was a divine intelligence present to shape 
 and develop the dream. Human guesses and 
 human dreams, unless guided and controlled by 
 some power ''whose dwelling is not with flesh," 
 do not follow along the undiscovered and unknown 
 lines of exact science. 
 
2^2 The Story of the Creation 
 
 As to the antiquity of this story, or the time 
 when it was first revealed, but little can be said. 
 Our oldest record of it is in Hebrew; but as com- 
 pared with the antiquity of the race, Hebrew is 
 probably a modern language. Our scholars tell 
 us that it was not the original speech of Abraham, 
 but was a local dialect of one or more of the 
 Canaanite tribes, and was adopted by the de- 
 scendants of Abraham at some date now unknown, 
 perhaps prior to the time of Moses, perhaps later. 
 From the dug-up records of the remote East, we 
 find that in the folk-lore or traditions of the Baby- 
 lonian Chaldeans, long before the time of Abraham, 
 there was extant a story of the creation which, 
 though pervaded and loaded down with the puerili- 
 ties of polytheism, still has many points of resem- 
 blance to the narrative in Genesis, and is so 
 strikingly similar as to indicate that the two had a 
 probably common origin. In other words, both 
 the Genesis story and the Chaldean story go back 
 to a revelation that antedates all existing records 
 and all historical periods of which we have any 
 knowledge. 
 
 From all of which I think we may reasonably 
 surmise: (i) that such a revelation was made in 
 the very early history of the race, and to some 
 branch of it now unknown, but a possible tradition 
 of which is preserved in the Enoch story of Genesis 
 v., 21-24; (2) that as the race degenerated morally, 
 as it certainly did, the revelation referred to be- 
 came corrupted and loaded down with heathenish 
 
The Story of the Creation 273 
 
 variations and additions and in that degenerate 
 form became a part of the traditional folk-lore 
 of the scholars of ancient Chaldea ; (3) that in this 
 form it passed, along with other learning of the 
 Chaldean schools, into the civilization of Western 
 Asia, probably at the time of the early Babylonian 
 supremacy, which, from other records, we know 
 to have been extended westward to the Mediter- 
 ranean many centuries prior to Abraham ; and (4) 
 that the writer of the Genesis narrative, under the 
 guidance of a new inspiration, eliminated from 
 that tradition its heathenish, puerile, and poly- 
 theistic errors, and practically restored the revela- 
 tion to its original, genuine form. But who the 
 writer was we do not know, nor is it important 
 that we should. The record shows that he was a 
 master-workman in that particular field. It may 
 have been Moses, though I doubt it ; but I do not 
 care to dissent from those who so believe. Who- 
 ever wrote it, it comes to us backed up by divine 
 authority, expressed, first, on the face and in the 
 substance of the record itself, and second, in its 
 practical consonance with and confirmation by 
 the ascertained facts of science. That story and 
 the story of the earth itself, both have the same 
 divine origin. 
 
 There is one fact revealed in this Genesis account 
 as to which science is wholly silent, the fact that 
 all life, motion, and matter owe their origin to the 
 creative act of an extramimdane power or agency, 
 or perhaps to a series of such acts. Science cannot 
 
274 The Story of the Creation 
 
 and does not pretend to account for the origin of 
 anything except as it may have come derivatively 
 from something different which previously existed. 
 How the first life, or the first movement of anything, 
 or the first form of matter came into being — ^in 
 regard to these beginnings, science is totally and 
 profoundly ignorant. Self -creation is more abhor- 
 rent to genuine science, and is more inconceivable 
 and incredible, than an extramundane Creator. 
 As a working theory, and, so far as we now know, 
 a possibly true theory, science many years ago 
 worked its way back to something which it called 
 an "atom," but so infinitesimally small that no 
 microscope can isolate it, and consequently it is 
 cognizable only by the imagination. Proceeding 
 from this point, science has (or thinks it has) more 
 recently resolved its infinitesimal atoms into 
 swirling vortexes, each made up of myriads of 
 * 'electrons" or "corpuscles," but about which 
 it knows nothing except that they, as conceived of, 
 represent some form of movement or force, and 
 possibly constitute the first form of matter. 
 There science stops. It can go no further. As to 
 the ultimate origin of movement or force, science 
 does not tell us anything, but Genesis does: "The 
 Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters" 
 (Gen. i., 2) ; and motion means force, "And God 
 said. Let there be light, and light was" (verse 3) ; 
 and next after motion, light was the first form or 
 manifestation of force cognizable to the eye. The 
 primordial relationship of matter and force is not 
 
The Story of the Creation 275 
 
 yet scientifically known. Genesis tells us all we 
 know on that subject. 
 
 Science may be correct when it says, as it does 
 through a certain school of its advanced votaries, 
 that, given matter and force to begin with, they 
 could, under the action of known laws, evolve the 
 universe. But of the origin of matter, the origin of 
 force, and the origin of the laws that pervade and 
 dominate both matter and force, we have no 
 knowledge except what we can gather from the 
 account in Genesis. If this account be not true, 
 
 " . . . this I dare boldly tell, 
 'T is so like truth, 't will serve our turn as well." 
 
 Did Moses write this story along with the intro- 
 ductory chapters of Genesis? I am unable to 
 disprove the theory that he did, but I very much 
 doubt it. According to the record of his Hfe, he 
 had no particular interest in such matters during 
 the first third of it, when, as a prince of Egypt, he 
 was a member of the court of Pharaoh; nor during 
 the second third of it, when, as a fugitive from the 
 wrath of the King, he filled the position of a shep- 
 herd in the distant land of Midian. The last 
 third of his Hfe, forty years in round numbers, was 
 occupied with ''matters and things," and was 
 spent amid surroundings, all of which were the 
 reverse of favorable to high-class authorship. 
 He had twelve unruly and discordant tribes to 
 manage; tribes that were jealous of each other, 
 
276 The Story of the Creation 
 
 and, except his own tribe of Levi, likewise jealous 
 of him; tribes composed of people just out of 
 serfdom. As Egyptian serfs they had been given 
 to the usages and practices of Egyptian idolatry, 
 and though they generally yielded to Moses the 
 authority of nominal leadership, they did not 
 hesitate to rebel whenever things did not go to 
 suit their wishes or whims. Under such conditions, 
 and for such a people, Moses had to devise and 
 inaugurate a system of civil government or rule 
 and get them to obey it; also a system of religion 
 that was practically new, and because it was new, 
 was accepted with reluctance; and also a military 
 organization for protection against a hostile environ- 
 ment, and for the conquest which he and they 
 looked forward to. Nor was their manner of life at 
 all favorable for either a high religious or a high 
 literary development. During these forty years 
 they lived a nomadic pastoral life, a good part of 
 the time in the wide region of country around 
 Kadesh-Barnea. The settled conditions of civili- 
 zation were wanting. Pasturage and water for 
 flocks and herds were the first necessity, in a region 
 where, at certain times of the year, both were 
 scarce. Conditions that forbid a settled home 
 and compel a continuous struggle for existence are 
 not favorable for the development of a revelation, 
 nor for the preparation of a history of a remote 
 religious antiquity which had no contemporary 
 interest or importance. 
 
 But notwithstanding all this, the prevalent use 
 
The Story of the Creation 277 
 
 of the name of Moses in connection with these 
 chapters, and with the Pentateuch as a whole, is 
 perfectly correct and proper, fully as much so as 
 the universal use of the name of the first Emperor 
 of the French in connection with the Code Napo- 
 leon, even though the latter probably contains but 
 little from the pen of that illustrious personage. 
 That the Pentateuch contains many documents 
 which belong to the Mosaic period, as well as some 
 that are probably much older, cannot be a matter 
 of reasonable doubt. That as a whole it records 
 and reflects the spirit and doings of the time of 
 Moses, — ^how he and his people lived and thought 
 and worshiped and warred and sinned, were 
 pimished and repented, and how after sundry 
 delays, defeats, failures, disappointments, and 
 vicissitudes, they finally attained possession of 
 what they had been taught to regard as their 
 ancestral home — all this may be accepted as 
 veritable Mosaic history. That the hero of that 
 history, or the man who made the histor>% should 
 have the honor and glory and earthly immortality 
 which belong to or accrue from a faithful record 
 of such history, is no more than his due; and this 
 for the further reason that his character and per- 
 sonality are indelibly stamped on it and give it its 
 chief practical value through all succeeding time. 
 
BIBLICAL REVISION 
 
 One of the "signs of the times" is a steadily 
 increasing restlessness over, or in view of, the 
 defects in our authoritative translations of the 
 Bible — and by "authoritative" I refer particularly 
 to the versions known as the "Authorized" or 
 "King James" version, and the "Revised." 
 While the latter is a great improvement over the 
 former, it fails to satisfy, I will not say public 
 demands, but rather public wants. For though 
 there is little or no public clamor on the subject, 
 there is a constantly growing indifference or neglect 
 as respects the matter of Bible-reading and Bible- 
 study on the part of both the real and the nominal 
 lay adherents of the Christian faith. Some of the 
 causes of this neglect will appear as we proceed. 
 But the neglect itself shows that there is in the 
 minds of people of that class a manifest feeling of 
 dissatisfaction with the Book itself in its present 
 rendering ; and consequently there is a real, though 
 perhaps rarely expressed, want of something better. 
 This dissatisfaction is distinctly voiced in the 
 growing hostility to the reading of the Bible in our 
 public schools. Much of this hostiHty lacks 
 sincerity, and much of it is partisan in character, 
 
 278 
 
Biblical Revision 279 
 
 but some of it is honest, though generally based on 
 erroneous considerations. And in further proof of 
 the existence of this dissatisfaction, note may be 
 made, first, of the steadily increasing number of 
 private or unauthorized translations, some of 
 which are not translations at all, but free and 
 sometimes ver}^ crude paraphrases of the original; 
 and secondly, that Biblical teachers, in their class- 
 rooms, are compelled to resort to their own trans- 
 lations or paraphrasing methods of speech, in 
 order to bring what is said within the ready com- 
 prehension of their hearers. 
 
 Now, it goes without saying that a book which 
 is intended for the use of all sorts and conditions 
 of men and women and children, especially where 
 matters of life and death, of good morals here and 
 immortality hereafter are involved — that such a 
 book shotild have at least the following among 
 other essential characteristics : 
 
 I. The intended primary meaning of what it 
 says should be reasonably clear to the compre- 
 hension of the average lay reader. To talk to a 
 man in forms of speech which he does not under- 
 stand involves a waste of time on the part of the 
 speaker, and wearies and disgusts the hearer. 
 
 To illustrate: The phravse "the body of this 
 death" (Rom. vii., 24), as an English phrase, is 
 utterly meaningless to the average layman. The 
 same is true regarding the phrase "the mind of the 
 flesh" (Rom. viii., 6), and regarding many other 
 expressions that appear in both the Authorized 
 
28o Biblical Revision 
 
 and Revised versions. It is no part of my present 
 purpose to make a compilation of such phrases; 
 I wish only to call attention to them. 
 
 A few Greek and Hebrew idioms of speech are 
 retained with some resultant obscurity, due to the 
 idioms themselves, where the actual meaning 
 could be equally well expressed by an English 
 phrase of equal brevity and force. Thus, ''Thou 
 hast said" (Matt, xxvi., 64) might better read, 
 *'It is as you say," or "I am." "What have I to 
 do with thee?" (John ii., 4) might well be changed 
 to ''What is that to me? " These illustrations might 
 be multiplied. 
 
 2. The Bible, for the use of English-speaking 
 readers of the present day, should, in respect to 
 sexual matters, conform to present standards of 
 cleanness. 
 
 The fact that the ancient Jews, along with the 
 heathen peoples by whom they were surroimded, 
 were (if judged by modem standards) unclean of 
 speech, even in some cases down to the uncleanness 
 of the modem barroom and brothel, is no reason 
 why we should be equally unclean. Such things 
 are incompatible with the purity of heart of 
 Matthew v., 8. As a people, we have outgrown 
 that comparatively low state or degree of civiliza- 
 tion, but we have retained and most pertinaciously 
 clung to the sexual filth which they, in their 
 ignorance or under their peculiar usages of speech, 
 put into the sacred record. It is time — ^high time 
 — ^that we had a clean Bible. On this point I 
 
Biblical Revision 281 
 
 speak advisedly; and any man who, in family 
 worship, having sons and daughters of years of 
 discretion, has attempted to read the Bible 
 through in course, w411 not need to ask me to cite 
 chapter and verse in order to make good what I 
 say. 
 
 This characteristic of our present Bible — by 
 which I mean the freedom and coarseness with 
 w^hich sexual matters are mentioned, especially in 
 the Old Testament, though occasionally also in the 
 New — is more of a hindrance to the general use 
 of the Bible than most of our religious authorities 
 imagine. A single illustration now occurs to me. 
 Not very long ago, I happened to be in a bookstore 
 chatting with the proprietor, when a mutual friend, 
 a business man of wealth, high morals, and good 
 standing, but of no religious pretensions, came in 
 and asked if there was any edition of the Bible 
 published that omitted the offensive sensualism 
 so often foimd in the Old Testament. He was a 
 bachelor himself, but had many nephews and nieces 
 just coming to years of discretion, and he wished to 
 buy and present each of them with such a Bible. 
 And I also happen to know of cases in which young 
 boys have, without any improvement to their 
 purity of heart, amused themselves by looking up 
 and making a jest of erotic phrases, references, and 
 descriptions which were not needed and are of no 
 value for the purpose of religious instruction and 
 growth in grace. 
 
 As to the authority of the church to make such 
 
282 Biblical Revision 
 
 omissions from the Bible record, I shall have 
 something to say presently. 
 
 3. The fact that fully one third of the Old 
 Testament is made up of matter which is of no 
 possible interest, concern, or benefit to anybody 
 (except the antiquarian), either for this life or the 
 next, detracts very greatly from its attractiveness, 
 or even suitability, for general reading. 
 
 If any one feels inclined to doubt the accuracy 
 of this statement, let him read the Old Testament 
 in course — the whole of it — with blue pencil in 
 hand, and make his record as he goes along. When 
 he gets through he will agree with me. 
 
 Now, if revision were made in respect of only 
 three matters, (i) meaningless and obscure render- 
 ings, (2) gross sexual references, and (3) profitless 
 details, leaving all the rest of the Bible as it now 
 reads in the "American Standard Edition" of 
 the Revised Version, I think it perfectly clear that 
 we should have a Bible equally good for all the 
 purposes of religion, and a great deal better for 
 general and devotional reading by English-speaking 
 men, women, and children. We should also have a 
 Bible against which, for use in our public schools, 
 much less could be said. 
 
 The efforts of private revisers, at least of all 
 whose work I have seen, are open to the very 
 serious, if not fatal, objection that they have re- 
 vised too much ; that is, they have gone far ahead 
 of what the public want. The poetic beauty and 
 archaic attractiveness of the greater part of the 
 
Biblical Revision 283 
 
 present version so justly appeal to the average 
 religious taste and good sense of people at large 
 that an over-modernization of the text is vigor- 
 ously resented. But every new reviser, having set 
 out to revise, meastu-es his success by the amount 
 of revising he does. In such hands the good and 
 bad suffer alike together; and hence, in every 
 private revision I have seen, the remedy of the 
 new is worse than the disease of the old. Revision 
 should undoubtedly be made, but it should be 
 made slowly. First, obvious and material defects 
 should be corrected, and no others; the Book, as so 
 corrected, should be tested by a considerable and 
 prolonged usage, say of the average lifetime of a 
 generation, whereby to ascertain (i) whether the 
 corrections thus made constitute an improvement 
 in public apprehension, and (2) if they do, wherein 
 and how can the rendering be ftu-ther improved, 
 so as the better to adapt it to the religious wants 
 of the EngHsh-speaking race. 
 
 The work of revision, if it be done as it ought to 
 be done, is not the work of a day or a year, or even 
 of a single generation. In no case should the 
 integrity of the Bible as a book of righteousness 
 and salvation be destroyed, or even lessened or 
 impaired. In all other respects, it should be 
 made to conform to those conditions and require- 
 ments which will make it most efficacious for the 
 purposes for which it was written; and in order 
 that it shall be most highly efficacious, it must be 
 so revised as to make it acceptable to all who have 
 
284 Biblical Revision 
 
 any interest in, or desire a knowledge of, its 
 contents. The revision completed in 1885 was a 
 great work, ably and devoutly done. Use has 
 stamped on that work the general approval of the 
 church. But that revision was especially devoted 
 to other points than the three above noted. I 
 humbly submit, but only as the opinion of a not 
 inattentive layman, that the scholars of the Holy 
 CathoHc Church ought now to give their attention 
 and efforts to a further revision whereby (i) to 
 render Hebrew and Greek idioms into modern 
 English ; (2) to give us a clean Bible, clean on every 
 page; and (3) to eliminate from its pages such 
 details as do not in any way, shape, or manner 
 concern either righteousness in this life, or immor- 
 tality^ in the next. After twenty or thirty years, 
 use of a Bible so revised, the church will know 
 better what, if anything, needs doing next by way 
 of still further revision. 
 
 As respects any general revision of the Bible in 
 the direction of a new translation, there is one 
 obstacle which at present, I think, is insuperable. 
 Most of our Biblical scholars, while well up in 
 Hebrew and Greek, are not well instructed or 
 thoroughly skilled in the niceties of English speech. 
 More especially is this the case in respect of what 
 we call classical, as distinguished from colloquial, 
 English. Such masters in the use of "English 
 undefiled" as James Russell Lowell and Oliver 
 Wendell Holmes are not to be found among our 
 clergy — at least I know of none; and only a man so 
 
Biblical Revision 285 
 
 qualified should presume to think of improving 
 (except as to sundry idioms and obsolete words) 
 the magnificent diction of the greater part of our 
 present revision. Future scholarship may supply 
 men thus quaHfied, but just now they are exceed- 
 ingly scarce. I feel safe in saying of any man of 
 the present generation of scholars who thinks he 
 can make a better general translation of the Bible 
 than the one we now have, that if he does not 
 thereby betray his incompetence for the work, he 
 at least shows that he has not fully "sized up'* 
 its difficulties. 
 
 In making these suggestions, I am perfectly 
 aware of simdry possible counter-statements, and 
 particularly : 
 
 (i) That any alteration in the text, either by 
 addition or omission, is authoritatively and forever 
 forbidden by Rev. xxii., 18, 19. 
 
 But the word ''book" as used in these verses 
 means the book of Revelation, and no other. A 
 New Testament "book" did not exist at that time. 
 All existing data and all present-known facts fully 
 justify the conclusion that our New Testament 
 canon was not made up or compiled into a single 
 "book" till many years later. And it further ap- 
 pears that the right of this book of Revelation to be 
 included in the canon at all was in serious dispute 
 among the leading ecclesiastical authorities of the 
 church till near the end of the second or the begin- 
 ning of the third century. Hence this particular 
 ■citation is not relevant to the point in question. 
 
286 Biblical Revision 
 
 (2) Another possible reply may be thus stated ; 
 The Bible as we have it — the whole of it — is given 
 to us by divine inspiration, and no finite or human 
 authority is empowered either to add to or sub- 
 tract from its inspired contents. 
 
 If, for example, Genesis xxxviii. is thus divinely 
 inspired as an authoritative part of the sacred 
 record, then I must admit the sufficiency of this 
 reply. To any man who so holds, and is willing 
 so to preach and teach, my suggestions as above 
 given are impious and accordingly should be 
 rejected. But it pleases me to believe that the 
 Holy Deity specially made known to us by Jesus of 
 Nazareth, the God to whom purity in all things 
 on the part of His followers is supremely acceptable, 
 cannot be honored, but is grossly dishonored by the 
 ascription to Him in His perfect holiness, of any 
 such unholiness as this chapter contains. Is this 
 heresy? If so, then Jesus of Nazareth was a 
 heretic when He denounced the Mosaic law of 
 marriage. 
 
 There are a few other matters outside of a new 
 translation that might be profitably considered by 
 those to whom, in any event, questions of Biblical 
 revision must be entrusted. One is the elimination 
 of duplicated extracts from old historical records. 
 Thus in Isaiah, chapters xxxvi-xxxviii. (except 
 xxxviii., 9-22) and xxxix are a repetition of the 
 record found in II. Kings, beginning with chap, 
 xviii., 13. 
 
 Very considerable portions of Kings and Chroni- 
 
Biblical Revision 287 
 
 cles are made up of duplicated extracts from the 
 ancient records of the kingdoms of Judah and 
 Israel, all of which are as unnecessary and as 
 objectionable as to have two copies of the Declara- 
 tion of Independence in a history of the United 
 States. 
 
 The same is true of some of the Psalms. Thus 
 David's thanksgiving hymn of I. Chronicles xvi., 
 8-36 reappears in two or three of the Psalms 
 (Ixxviii., 43-68; cv., 1-15, etc.), where it is divided 
 up into sections, probably for purposes of con- 
 venience in the musical services of the Temple. 
 As the reasons for such division no longer exist, 
 at least outside the Jewish synagogue, and as 
 for Christian use the undivided hymn is much to 
 be preferred, the broken-up sections might well 
 be omitted. 
 
 Many improvements along these lines might be 
 made in the interest of the general reader, without 
 injury or loss to anybody — except the printer. 
 
INDEX 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Acts: Early Church and Empire 80 
 
 Acts: Paul and the Empire 95 
 
 Angels, Agency of i73 
 
 Babel 259 
 
 Baptism for the Dead i77 
 
 Bible, Contents of the iii 
 
 Biblical Revision 278 
 
 Civilization, Beginnings of 249 
 
 Creation, The Story of 269 
 
 Deluge, The 254 
 
 Faith Cure 183 
 
 Fall: The Penalty 262 
 
 Heaven 219 
 
 Hell 227 
 
 Immortality: History of Doctrine 215 
 
 Japhetic Gospel, A 59 
 
 Jesus, The Earthly Life of i 
 
 Jesus, The Wisdom of , 15 
 
 John, The Gospel of 116 
 
 Lost Beliefs i73 
 
 Paul, The Gospel of 45 
 
 Paul, The Writings of 28 
 
 Paul and the Empire 69 
 
 Peter 130 
 
 Protestantism, Defects of 158 
 
 Rainbow-Promise 265 
 
 Resurrection, The: History of Doctrine 215 
 
 Resurrection, The: Origin of Doctrine 143 
 
 Revelation: A Drama 190 
 
 Satan 231 
 
 Sin 240 
 
 Traditions, Three Ancient 247 
 
 289 
 
Theological Seminary-Speer Libr; 
 
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