A-' - ILKIBIR&IKSr •• 1915 By IQirsopp Lake The Historical Evidence for the Resurrection of Jesus Christ The Stewardship of Faith THE STEWARDSHIP OF FAITH OUR HERITAGE FROM EARLY CHRISTIANITY BY KIRSOPP LAKE... PROFESSOR OF EARLY CHRISTIAN LITERATURE IN HARVARD UNIVERSITY LOWELL LECTURES IN 1913-14 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS NEW YORK AND LONDON dbe "ffcnicfcerbocher press 1915 Copyright, ioiS BY EIRSOPP LAKE MecLI Ube Kmfcfeerbocficr frees, flew Jgotft PREFACE THE following pages are based on a series of lectures given at the Lowell Institute and in the King's Chapel in Boston in 1913. They have been rewritten and somewhat enlarged, but not seriously altered. The title, The Stewardship of Faith, has been given because I feel that the most important fact which emerges from the study of Early Christianity as I have tried to present it, is that the Church owes its position to the endeavour of past genera tions to hold up to mankind a standard of life in religion, morality, and politics higher than that reached by the world in general. Christians were' men who had seen a vision. Faith was their trust in the Guide who offered to lead them to wards it, and of that Faith they were the Stewards. It was expressed in many different ways: in a series of theological and metaphysical propositions; in the splendour and pomp of sacramental liturgy; in the imposing structure of Christian ethics. But all these things were the expression, not the iv Preface essence, of the Faith which overcame the world; and the churches will fail in their stewardship if they confuse the expression with the reality, and forget that it is their office to protest against the world as it is, in the interests of the world as it might be. The responsibility of those who teach Chris tianity at present is twofold. First, never to lose sight of the vision of a better world, and to teach their pupils to join with them in seeing visions and dreaming dreams; secondly, by the study of the past, and by keeping keen the edge of the intellect of themselves and of others, never yielding to the temptation to obscure the difficulties of fact by taking refuge in the ambiguities of language, to further the exact knowledge of the world as it is, in order that those who have the vision may also have the practical ability to use it in the service of progress. I have tried to show the way in which the first Christians did this work, by translating their message from the terms of Jewish thought to those of the Greco-Roman world, and adding to it considerably in the process. And I have also tried to suggest that the churches of to-day ought to consider seriously the necessity for moving on in the same direction and giving to the world a Preface v theology which will comply with the reasonable claims of the intelligence, an organization which will be capable of serving adequately the spiritual requirements of human souls, and an ethic which will satisfy both the individual and social needs of a New Age. For a New Age is coming speedily upon us, and whether it is to come in light or in darkness depends on the clearness of vision and singleness of purpose of the Stewards of Faith. Kirsopp Lake. Cambridge, Mass., October, 1914. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. — Apocalyptic Judaism . . . i II. — The Teaching of Jesus and the Background of Apocalyptic Judaism 22 III. — The Spread of the Church to the Roman Empire .... 58 IV. — The Antiochene Mission and Early Gentile Christianity . . 91 V. — The Church and Heathenism . .123 VI. — The Church and Gnosticism . . 145 VII. — The Church and Uninstructed Christianity . . . .168 VIII. — Conclusion 189 Appendix. ..... 213 Index ...... 231 The Stewardship of Faith CHAPTER I APOCALYPTIC JUDAISM Introduction — Nationalism — Babylon — Rome — The Jews — The Catastrophic View of History — Apocalyptic Literature — Enoch — Its Intellectual Justification — Importance as a Spiritual Factor — Baruch — Jewish Hopes for Hastening the Coming of the Kingdom. OF recent years we have been repeatedly warned that Christianity is at the cross roads. If closely analyzed, however, this warning does not throw doubt on the value of religion, or on the great part played by the Chris tian Church in the history of Western civilization; but it is a serious indictment of the Christianity of our own time as a satisfactory expression of religious life. For Christianity is, and has long been, in some sense more than religion. It is religion, for it represents the feeling of intercourse between man 2 The Stewardship of Faith and some higher power, and also the struggle on the part of man to develop that side of his nature which, although his own, yet seems so strangely to be different from the rest of his consciousness, and to be a link between him and some world of higher realities. But it is also the attempt to express these two factors — always central in religion as such — in intellectual language, and so to give us not merely religion but also theology; for the ology is the expression of religion in the language of the intellect. Moreover, not only is Chris tianity theology as well as religion, it is also the expression of religion in action, and has become a code of ethics — of conduct. It has gone even further, and has striven to give institutional expression to rehgion, theology, and ethics as mutually dependent on one another, in a series of communities which represent the coming to gether of those who feel that somewhere at the centre of their Hves there is common experience expressed in more or less common intellectual phraseology, and manifesting itself in more or less common codes of conduct. Thus Christianity is not only rehgion, it is also theological, ethical, and institutional life. The suggestion that Christianity is at the cross roads implies the indictment that there is a danger that Apocalyptic Judaism 3 its theology is not taking sufficient note ofthe growth of knowledge and the changing attitude of thinking men to the problems of thought, so that it is becoming the repetition of shibboleths rather than the expression of experience. It implies that the moral code which is traditionally Christian needs expansion and revision because it has not taken sufficient note of the change of requirement due to the passing of the storm-centre of the modern world from individual to social problems. Finally it implies that there is a danger lest, partly from timidity, partly from the more honourable motives of reverence for the customs of our forefathers, we should sacrifice the cause for which the Christian Church was founded in order to perpetuate the accidents of its con stitution. With this indictment I do not propose to deal directly — in the main it seems to me to be true; but I desire to make the only contribution possible from a student of history to the attempt so to influence the minds of the Christians of to-day that they may choose the right road and enable our children to plead not guilty to an accusation which we ourselves are obhged to admit. I wish to go back to that distant period when the Church was young, in order that we may realize that then also 4 The Stewardship of Faith there was a time when Christianity was at the cross roads, and may see the way in which our spiritual forefathers passed successfully through the period of rapid change which took them out of the comparatively simple life of Judaism into the much more complex one of the Roman Empire. I wish to emphasize how in that generation the way of life was the constant sacrifice of identity of expression, in order to preserve the unity of experience under changed surroundings. The Church did not triumph because it preserved its theology, its ethics, or its institutions unchanged, but because it changed them all, and changed them rapidly, in order that they might express more adequately and more fully the spiritual life which remained the same, though the forms with which it was clothed were altering with extraordin ary rapidity. First of all, then, I propose to consider the nature of that aspect of Judaism which is the immediate background against which we have to place the figure of the historic Jesus. I shall then go on to set against that background the teaching of Jesus himself, as it seems to be revealed by the historical criticism of the gospels. After that it will be necessary to consider the characteristics of the world of the Roman Empire into which Chris- Apocalyptic Judaism 5 tianity passed and to notice the changes in Christianity brought about by the different sur roundings into which it then travelled. Thus I hope to sketch the way in which this process of readjustment produced the Cathohc Church, and throughout to consider the legacy which has come down to us from Christianity as it passed through this period of rapid change, and the responsibility which is put upon us of so treating our inheritance that we may really develop it, not contenting ourselves with the fatal policy of burying our "talent" in the ground in order to avoid the risks of the market-place, and of the changes which seem so dangerous and are yet the necessary and sole conditions upon which continued life is granted to men or to man's institutions. It does not, I hope, require any lengthy argu* ment to justify the method of treatment thus adopted. It is obviously impossible to treat of a period in which events followed one another with such rapidity and of which the records are rela tively so imperfect without the omission of many details of considerable though secondary impor tance. In order to be clear, it is necessary some times to be summary in the treatment of problems ; but I have not been writing so much for special students of early Christianity as for that wider 6 The Stewardship of Faith public which studies the past primarily as a mirror in which it may see the future approaching, and is more interested in the development and result of streams of tendency than in the exact cataloguing of successive incidents. What was the dominating feature of the life of the Jews which it is necessary to comprehend for the proper appreciation of the impression which Jesus made upon his hearers? It can best be understood if we realize that one of the most important sides of the story of the Jews is a chapter in the history of nationahsm. That is to say, it was a phase of the struggle which has gone on throughout the course of civilization between the great empires and the small nations. The Jew naturally looked at this struggle from the point of view of a small nation, but we can probably grasp it best if we first consider it from the point of view of the great empires. If we go back some centuries before Christ, we find the Babylonian Empire as the centre of civilization. If we could have asked an ancient Babylonian how the empire was progressing (though he would of course have expressed it in quite a different manner from the modern phrase ology here attributed to him) he would, I take it, Apocalyptic Judaism 7 have said something hke this: "Yes, the empire is flourishing. We have succeeded in extending our boundaries; we have succeeded in civilizing a large number of wild and savage tribes; we have brought them into the empire ; we have made them useful members of civilization. " If we had then gone one step further, and asked him to tell us what was the pohcy of his empire, he would have said: "Well, whenever we find a small nation which is hindering our progress, we transplant it. We break it up and move it, a Httle here and a little there. We transplant it so that it is able more readily to assimilate itself to our civilization. The process is not always appre ciated by the small nation at the time, but it makes for the good of the world in general." That was the policy of Babylonia, and if we look at history we cannot but recognize that if a Baby lonian statesman had spoken in this way he would have been justified. His empire was doing the work of the world. It was bringing about a certain progress of civilization, just as the great nations of the world are doing to-day; though we can also understand that the Jews, and other small nations which were transplanted, looked on the process as mere catastrophe, and as the tyranny of enemies whom God would ultimately destroy. It seems 8 The Stewardship of Faith to me that it is particularly interesting to realize that, with one important difference, the United States come nearer to being the inheritor of the Babylonian method than any other nation in the world. They are carrying on what may be caUed the Babylonian experiment, with the exception that the transplantation is not being effected against the wiUs of the smaU nations, but at their own desire, and it is that which, if we look at the United States from the point of view of the world outside, constitutes the greatness of their work in the world — that they help to educate and to civiHze the failures, or some of the failures, of the old world by forming them into a new and great empire. But, nevertheless, it is weU to remember that by adopting the methods of Babylonia they become also the heirs of the difficulties which Babylonia had to face, and must beware of the dangers which led to the ultimate failure of that experiment in Babylonia, because it overtaxed its powers, and absorbed more foreign elements than it was able properly to assimilate. If we now go on one step further in the history of the Jews, again from the point of view of the great nations, passing over the Greek period, we come to the Roman Empire. If we could have asked the Roman official in those days how the empire was Apocalyptic Judaism 9 progressing, he — Hke the Babylonian — would have claimed success for his government. But if we had asked him what was the method of deahng with foreign nationahties adopted in the empire he would have said that the Romans did not feel able to carry out, and did not wish to carry out, the Babylonian experiment; that they were trying something else, and were proposing to preserve the nations as they were, but to weld them into a higher unity by putting before their eyes the higher concept of Empire as opposed to Nationahty, making them look up to Rome not so much as one of the nations, but as the "common superior of nations." Once more, if we ask ourselves whether the Roman was right, we are bound to say that he was. He was really carrying on the work of civihzation. ' His claims were just; and, although his experiment failed in the end, it is surely interesting to remem ber that, just as the United States represent the Babylonian experiment, so the British Empire is the natural inheritor of the Roman experiment, because it is trying to do what the Roman did — to develop an organization in which it is possible 1 It was noted by Roman historians that those who fought hardest against Rome were the fathers of the men who were most pleased to call themselves Romans. io The Stewardship of Faith for various nations to preserve their identity, and yet to feel that there is a higher unity of Empire above them. Such was the attitude of the great nations which once dominated the world. Now let us turn round, and do a much more difficult thing, — con sider the facts from the point of view of the small nation of the Jews. Instead of looking at history as the triumphal procession of civihzation, they necessarily regarded it much more as the warding off — and the not always complete warding off — of a series of catastrophes. Everything seemed to be constantly going wrong. Actual disaster might be averted, but by no possible means could they regard the existing state of things as satisfactory. They had thought they were the chosen people; they had expected that dominion and power should be given to them; and they were, at the best, merely fighting for a precarious existence, con stantly threatened with extinction by the struggles of great nations. Under the pressure of that constant adversity, a very pecuhar type of thought was developed, and it is this which is especially important as being the ultimate background of the thought of the first generation of Christians. It was intensely mono theistic; it believed in the existence of the one Apocalyptic Judaism n God of the Jews, and of him alone. It was intensely moral; it had a high — an extraordinarily high — code of ethics. And the Jews used both their monotheistic creed and their high ethical standards as a fence to protect themselves against the ag gression of foreign nations. Finally they devel oped, within the circle of monotheistic ethics, a special catastrophic view of the universe. That is to say, under the influence of their national dis asters, they came to regard the whole course of history as a succession of great dramatic catas trophes, and looked forward with hope to the coming of one great, final cataclysm, after which the tyranny of the great nations would be trodden underfoot, and the children of Israel would take their place as the chosen people of God, under his direct governance, with his anointed king as his representative on earth. That catastrophic view of the universe (which the theologian has learned to call eschatological, because it deals with the IoxaTa> or "tne las't things ") was the source of a whole Hterature, which was produced more or less after the close of the canon of the Old Testament, and before, or at the same time as, the rise of Christianity. It is a literature which even among theologians is not yet sufficiently weU known, though the amount 12 The Stewardship of Faith which we know now is enormous as compared with what was known even fifty years ago, thanks to the discoveries of documents in Egypt and other places, and to the more scientific editions of pre viously known sources. In this Hterature there was a constant attempt to explain history by starting from the beginning of creation and stating it, not in the terms of actual events, but in the terms of the supposed inter ventions of various supernatural beings, some of which were derived from Babylonian mythology, so that we can trace under the guise of the narra tive of these supernatural interventions a series of aUusions to the great events in the history of Israel. At the end, however, there is usuaUy given an imaginative sketch of one more great intervention, this time entirely in favour of Israel, which is to close the history of the world as it is now, and inaugurate a new age and a new society, in which there is to be neither enemy of Israel, nor wicked men, nor sorrow, nor any that oppresses, nor any that suffers wrong. That is the picture of the future which they painted. An example may be taken from the book of Enoch, z in which the writer describes how he saw a vision of the great day which was to inaugurate this last intervention : 1 Enoch xlviii., I. Apocalyptic Judaism 13 And in that place I saw the fountain of righteous ness, which was inexhaustible, and around it were many fountains of wisdom, and all the thirsty drank of them and were filled with wisdom, and their dwell ings were with the righteous and holy and elect. And at that time the Son of Man was named in the pres ence of the Lord of Spirits, and his name before the Head of Days. . . . He shall be a staff to the righteous whereon to stay themselves and not fall, and he shall be the light of the Gentiles and the hope of those who are troubled at heart. . . . And in those days shah the countenance of the kings of the earth be downcast and the strong who possess the land, because of the works of their hands. For in the day of their anguish and affliction they shall not be able to save themselves, and I will give them over into the hands of mine elect. As straw in the fire shall they burn before the face of the holy; as lead in the water shall they sink before the face of the righteous, and no trace of them shall any more be found. . . . In those days a change shall take place for the holy and the elect, and the light of days shall abide with them, and in those days shall the earth also give back that which was entrusted to it, and shall also give back that which it has received, and Hell shall give back that which it owes. In those days the Elect One shall arise, and he shall choose the righteous and holy from among them; and he shall sit on my throne, and his mouth shall pour forth all the secrets of wisdom and counsel, for the Lord of Spirits hath given them to him, and hath glorified him, and the earth shall rejoice and the righteous shall dwell upon it, and the elect shall walk thereon. 14 The Stewardship of Faith We recognize at once that this is the story of the hope of the coming of the kingdom of heaven upon earth, and of the coming of the Anointed One, the Messiah, to be the king of the elect in that kingdom. And it is of primary importance that when we talk about the kingdom of God in early Christianity and the idea of the Messiah — which translated into Greek is "the Christ" or into Enghsh is "the Anointed One" — we should set them against the background of this contemporary eschatological thought which was the direct outcome of the strug gle of Israel against the great nations of the world, if we wish to know what they meant to the men of that generation. It is very easy for us to be scornful about this view of the universe, and the eschatological ex pectation of the Jew. It is obvious that it was ex clusive, that it was frequently narrow, and, above all, that it was in the end an illusion, because it has not come true. That is very easy to see. What is less easy, but what is much more important, is to appreciate the great spiritual and even inteUectual value which it possessed. If you look at it first from the intellectual point of view, of course it is true that the eschatological hope was an illusion; it was not going to happen. But can we be quite sure that illusions are not very Apocalyptic Judaism 15 often the source of progress? Let me take an example. What was the intention of Columbus when he discovered America? It was to find a way to India,1 and if he had not been under a complete illusion as to the geography of the world he would not have troubled to find what was then a wild and savage country. Similarly throughout history the great men who have done great things have, as a rule, been in fluenced by illusion. That is to say, when they have tried to foresee the future, they have foreseen it wrong. Probably no one does anything else if he tries to foresee the future on any large scale. But the man who helps the world is not he who is content to say: "I cannot foresee the future; therefore I. will keep my eyes fixed rigidly upon the present," but he who allows himself to dream dreams and to see visions, although he knows that they are, from the necessity of the case, of the nature of illusions, because his intuition gives him the higher wisdom which teaches that it is just that sort of iUusion, that sort of vision, which has always been the driving power in the history of civilization. Men find out quickly enough that 1 Not only was this his intention, but he seems to have died in the belief that he really had done so. Columbus never knew what he gave to the world. 16 The Stewardship of Faith the dream is but a dream, and that the vision is an iUusion; they soon go back to things as they are. But they remember the vision which they have seen, and it becomes the incentive which helps them to make the world approach, if it be but by a Httle, somewhat more closely to the vision of that better world which they have seen. For this reason then it was a good thing for the world as a whole that there should be a Httle nation which was under an illusion as to the course of history, but which was, nevertheless, able to be queath to succeeding generations a vision of life as it never has been and never wiU be on this earth, in order that that vision should become the ideal which has animated, stimulated, and guided cen turies of Christian endeavour. Or again, stiU remaining at the inteUectual point of view, of course the eschatological expectation is wrong, as a prognostication of the future; it supphes, however, the antidote to some of the things which we exaggerate in our generation. We are constantly told that history is the history of human progress, and in the end that is no doubt true, but nevertheless I venture to beheve that many of us carry that sort of thing to quite a ridiculous point, always picturing history as a steady process, and forgetting that, if we look at Apocalyptic Judaism 17 history from a national point of view, the Jew was perfectly right when he said it was a catas trophic process, even though he was wrong in the way in which he pictured the supernatural man ipulation of these catastrophes. Our generation would do well to remember that the lesson of history is not that nations constantly go on in a steady line of progress; it is rather that there are sudden periods of florescence, when enormous pro gress is very rapidly made; and then a period in which life stays on a level. Then, again, when men become greedy and lazy, there comes a sudden fall — a catastrophe — when the rubbish and rank luxuriance of civilization is torn up and destroyed, in order to leave the ground clear for a new harvest. That was a truth that the Jew knew perfectly well, and I am not sure that we always do. * But it is not only on the intellectual side that this catastrophic view of history, the eschatological expectation, was justified, not by its accuracy, but by its influence on the minds of those who held it. If we turn to the side of spiritual life we find that this, expectation of catastrophe was one of the things which so often took the Jew out of the Httlenesses of life, and made him feel that, after 1 This was written in 1913. Few of us thought then how near the catastrophe might be. 18 The Stewardship of Faith all, the important things in the world are not merely those of relation, but that there are certain absolute values which we have with us now, and shaU take with us, even if we go hence — so long as we are "we" at aU. It was in that way that the Jews became the greatest contributors in history to the feeling that, besides the duty which a man has to the society to which he belongs, there is also a duty which he owes, as it were, to his own soul, calling on him so to Hve that he is not entirely dependent at the last upon his relationship to any particular group of men, or to any special institution; so that his soul has a real life of its own, apart from its relationship. This is illustrated again and again in the apoca lyptic Hterature of the Jews, often coming as a refreshing subject, when we are beginning to get tired of the constant cycle of supernatural mytho logical imagery. Baruch, for instance, warns his hearers of the necessities laid upon them by this view of life * : Before therefore judgment exact its own, And truth demand that which is due, 1 2 Baruch lxxxv. (I have slightly altered the wording of the last paragraph, so as to avoid a certain roughness of expression, but the meaning has not been changed.) Apocalyptic Judaism 19 Let us prepare our soul, That we may have hope, and be not put to shame, That we may rest with our Fathers, and be not punished with our foes. For the youth of the world is past, and the strength of creation is exhausted, And the coming of the time is at hand, And the ship is nigh unto the harbour, and the pilgrim reaches the city, And life is close unto its end. So then prepare your souls, that, When you rise up, and leave the ship of your pilgrim age, You may rest, and pass not into condemnation. Is the feehng not justifiable that the view of Hfe which could make a man write this is not a thing which we can throw on one side and say that it is merely apocalyptic illusion? As an expectation of the future it was mistaken, but as an insight into the reahty of life it was true. Let me now pass on to one more important detail in the Jewish thought, connected with their eschato logical hope. Supposing we believed, as the Jews did in those days, that the last great supernatural intervention was at hand, that the kingdom of God was coming, what question should we ask? Probably we should say: "What can we do to hasten the coming of that kingdom?" That is exactly what the Jews in their generation did ask. 20 The Stewardship of Faith They considered again and again what was the right pohcy for them to adopt in order to bring about this last intervention which they so much desired. The first, perhaps the most influential and important, answer was that of the Scribes, the students of the law. They said : " Keep the law. Observe it down to the last letter. Live with meticulous accuracy according to its every pre cept. If ever the day come when the whole of the law is observed, then the kingdom will come. It is the sins of Israel — its transgressions of the law — which are delaying the coming of the king dom. Therefore, keep the law. That is what is necessary!" But there was another party among the Jews who said: "Not so. We know that before the kingdom can come there will be a great war; there will be rebellions; there will be disasters. The horrors of that last time will eclipse everything which we have yet suffered. We have it in our own hands. If we provoke war, and all its horrors, by action, or rebeUion against the enemies of Israel, then we shall bring about the condition of things which wiU mark the last days, and as a reward for our faith, God will intervene at the last moment, when all seems lost, and will miraculously destroy Apocalyptic Judaism 21 our enemies. Therefore fight against the evil ones; resist the enemy; rebel; destroy." That was the pohcy of the party called the Zealots.1 You will understand that they were looked upon with especial disfavour by the Roman authorities. But for us their significance is that they are a very important part of the background against which we have to set the teaching of the gospels, and that they are often overlooked. Pharisees we know, and Sadducees we know — or think we do — but Zealots we neglect, because they are not often mentioned by name in the gospels. Yet that is not really strange when we realize that from their attitude to the Romans they necessarily could play no part in the final tragedy in Jerusalem. Nevertheless they were certainly a power in Juda ism, and in the next chapter the suggestion will be made that there is not a Httle anti-Zealotic polemic in the gospels. 1 An especially interesting account is given by H. Windisch in Der messianische Krieg. CHAPTER II THE TEACHING OF JESUS AND THE BACKGROUND OF APOCALYPTIC JUDAISM The Sources — The Fourth Gospel — The Synoptic Question — The Gospel of the Kingdom — Repentance — Scribes, Publicans, and Sinners — The Sabbath — Zealots — World-renunciation — Hostility of the Priests — Jesus' Expectation of Death — Jesus' own View of Himself — "Messias Geheimniss" — The Son of Man — Criticism and Faith. IN the last chapter an attempt was made to describe the most important features of the background of Jewish thought, against which the figure of the historic Jesus must be placed. It is, however, first of aU necessary to ask what are the sources from which this figure can be recon structed, because it is here that the real difference can be found between the standpoint of the present time and of fifty years ago. If any one had been trying in those days to study the choice of sources to be consulted for the recon struction of the Hfe of Jesus, he would have cer tainly taken the four gospels, and have treated them as a more or less co-ordinated whole. That 22 The Teaching of Jesus 23 is to say, he would have assumed aU four of them to have the same, or almost the same, value as historic evidence; and would have placed them in his mind, as it were, side by side. Since then we have passed through a double re volution of thought, generally known by the title — I was almost; going to say by the opprobrious title — of higher Criticism. It is called "higher criticism," not from any at tempt to claim for it any superior rank or value, but simply in allusion to a metaphor which com pared this sort of criticism to the attempt of the explorer who is working his way up some great river, and is trying to go higher up towards the sources. This is all that the word means: but it has suffered from the insinuations of obscurantists who have found the apphcation of adjectives an easier form of controversy than the refutation of arguments. The result of this kind of study has been that in the first place, students of early Christianity have seen for some time that they cannot place the four gospels side by side in the old manner. There has been a long critical argument, resulting in the recognition that the fourth gospel, the gospel of St. John, clearly belongs to a later period, and that the writer does not give the facts as they 24 The Stewardship of Faith happened, but reinterpreted, rewritten, and recon sidered in the Hght of one or two generations of thought and experience, so that it is for the his torian of less value than the first three gospels.1 The discovery of this was the first revolution. The second came, almost within my own memory, at aU events in England, when students began to realize that we could not even put the first three gospels side by side; to see that even here we have not the ultimate sources from which we can reconstruct the Hfe of Jesus, and that it is possible to go behind the text, and reconstruct some at least of the traditions upon which it is based. To come to the result without giving the very long history of the investigation, the end was that critics in almost every country came to two con clusions: (i) Behind the first three gospels is a docu ment which is almost, if not entirely, identical with our gospel of Mark, so that in the passages in which we have the same story in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, Mark must in the main be taken • That is to say, for the historian of the life of Jesus. But for the history of Christianity the situation is reversed. The Catholic Church is not merely founded on the facts as they hap pened, but even more on the interpretation of the facts — in other words, on the gospel of St. John, rather than on the synoptics. The Teaching of Jesus 25 as the original, and the other two gospels as the earhest commentaries on Mark. (2) Behind Matthew and Luke, in passages where they do not cover the same ground as Mark, there is also a common source which is very early. This source is generally known as Q, because the German scholars who first drew attention to it called it Q(ueHe = source), in order not to beg the question by giving it some more definite name. * No serious critics suggest that Q and Mark repre sent the whole truth, but they do say very em phatically that the historian must begin with these two documents, Mark and Q, and treat them as the earhest and best authorities for any attempt to reconstruct the life of Jesus. According then to these narratives we find that Jesus is represented first of all as having been 1 It should however be noted that there is often a tendency to treat Q as if we knew all about it. As a matter of fact we only know that certain sections of Matthew and Luke are mutually dependent on a common original: it is convenient to call this Q, but we do not know whether this Q is always the same document, or whether many or few sections in Matthew or Luke, with no parallels, do not come really from Q. Moreover the recon structions of Q are — except in a few points where editorial touches are obvious — either works of the imagination or, still worse, un intelligent compilations which try to conceal their mechanical nature by a claim to being objective. 26 The Stewardship of Faith baptized by John the Baptist. At that moment he experienced the vision of the heavens being opened, and heard a voice from heaven saying that God recognized him as his son. Then, after a period in the wilderness, he began preaching in the synagogues in Gahlee, and here we come to the first serious question: What did he preach? We may be quite sure that any writer will put into the foreground the message which he regards as central, and it is therefore very important to notice that at the very beginning Mark tells us that the message was: "The kingdom of heaven is at hand; repent!" If we remember the background of Judaism, that can only have meant to his audience that the last great catastrophe was at hand, when the Messiah would come and intervene on behalf of the Elect — therefore, repent ! It imphes the same background of thought as Enoch, and the same message as Baruch's: "Therefore, prepare your souls!" Continuing the narrative we find that, shortly after this, there was a quarrel between Jesus and the rulers of the synagogue, and he went out to preach on the hiUside by the shore of the sea. From that moment Jesus was outside the syna gogue. He was now beginning his own organiza- The Teaching of Jesus 27 tion, and we may reaHy say that this is the moment when the Church began to exist.1 We then find a long period — at least long if we reckon by months, — the period of preaching in Gahlee, and the growing conviction that, though the kingdom is at hand, more and more stress must be put upon the old belief that the last days before the coming of the kingdom wiU be terrible, and full of suffering. Finally there is a visit to Jeru salem, with the same message iUustrated, according to Mark, by a long discourse emphasizing the hor rors which are to come at the last day, and then the betrayal and crucifixion. There we reach the end of the ministry of the historic Jesus of Nazareth on earth. With the story of the resurrection which follows there comes a new chapter, a chapter which deals with the history of the community which remained. It has been possible to pass very quickly over this account of the Hfe of Jesus, because its details are so generally familiar. But it is very desirable to reiterate how much there is in the oldest strata of the gospel which really bears out the contention that the preaching of Jesus at this period, with regard to the coming of the kingdom, was homo geneous with the type of Jewish teaching in the 1 Cf. F. C. Burkitt, Transmission of the Gospel Narrative. 28 The Stewardship of Faith last chapter. We are too apt to explain things away. We do not give their fuU significance to passages such as that in which Jesus says: "There are those who stand here who shaU not taste of death until they see the kingdom of God come in power." Or again: "This generation shaU not pass away until all these things are fulfilled." The world of ideas to which these passages belong is the same as that of Enoch. Or again, emphasiz ing that, although this was true, yet no man knew the exact moment of the coming, "concerning that day or hour knoweth no man save the Father; watch, for ye know not when the time is." We are reminded at once of Baruch's: "Prepare ye your souls ! The time is at hand. " It is the same spirit, and without realizing that this sort of teaching was not something new, but brought with it a whole series of associated ideas weU known to the Jews, it is impossible to understand what sort of impression the preaching of Jesus must have made upon his contemporaries. The condition which Jesus laid down for en trance into the kingdom was in principle not unacceptable to the Scribes. He demanded repent ance, and to a Jew this could only mean one thing: "Turn round and change your mode of Hfe; alter your evil ways; walk in the path of righteousness; The Teaching of Jesus 29 lest when the day comes, and the kingdom is here, you may be left outside." That is teaching which any Scribe would in principle have accepted : but its development made manifest certain important differences. The caU to repentance is expanded in various places in Mark and, at much greater length, in the document which we caU Q, especiaUy in the Sermon on the Mount. If we try to place the general result of these expansions against the background of contemporary thought, we find that it partially accepted a great part of the teaching of the Scribes, who took the view that if men observed the law they would be able to enter the kingdom, but it went beyond it. It said: "Observe the law"—'- as the Scribes did — but it added to the law by making it something which dealt not merely with the code of outward conduct, but also with the intention of the heart; supplementing, rather than rejecting, the teaching of the Scribes it said : "Except your righteousness exceed that of the Scribes and Pharisees ye shaU not enter into the kingdom of heaven. " The ftdl message of Jesus is given in epitome in the primitive account in Mark: "The kingdom of heaven is at hand; repent, and beheve the good news." Its centre, so far as controversy was 30 The Stewardship of Faith concerned, was "repent," but, by a curious mis understanding, Christians have often read into "beheve the good news" all the implications of the later Pauline or even Lutheran theology, and by translating the Greek by "gospel" instead of by "good news" have entirely changed its meaning. The original signification of "good news" here was the announcement which had just been made — the coming of the kingdom. The "faith " which Jesus asked for was faith in the truth of his mes sage. It is not faith in him as Messiah which is required; that was the "good news" which the Christian missionaries preached, and therefore faith to them often came to be almost, if not quite, identical with beheving the proposition that the Christ is Jesus, and, as the Jewish connotation of this phrase was lost sight of, this developed into the equivalent of a judgment made on past events. But that is not the meaning of faith in the synoptic narrative1: it is always an attitude of expectancy as to the future, not of credence in a certain view of the past. It sometimes refers to the heahng of a sick person, 2 sometimes to the forgiveness of sins, 1 It has however changed its meaning in the fourth gospel, in which it certainly means a definite opinion as to Jesus. Here again the fourth gospel is valuable for the history of Christian thought rather than for the faith and the life of Jesus. 1 Psychologically this is important. Faith healing depends on The Teaching of Jesus 31 but here, at the beginning of the gospel, it has its normal meaning — the behef in the truth of the announcement that in the immediate future the kingdom of God would come. The announcement that the kingdom was at hand, and the appeal for belief in its truth, was thus a message which was unlikely to provoke active opposition. It was, indeed, to every Jew "good news" and even though many might be sceptical, none would be necessarily hostile to an assurance that an event was approaching for which the prayers of the pious were daily offered. The hostihty recorded in the gospels arose in connexion with the class of persons to whom Jesus made the offer of entry into the kingdom, and the practical interpretation which he gave to repent ance as the necessary condition for this entry. On these points the teaching of Jesus differed sharply from that of the Scribes and the Zealots, and in the oldest strata of the gospels we can clearly trace the existence of controversy with both. So far as the Scribes were concerned the teaching the firm conviction on the part of the patient that he is going to be cured : any other belief is only valuable so far as it produces this result. It may be reasonable or it may be ridiculous, but, how ever ridiculous, it is nevertheless valuable if it helps to bring a conviction of convalescence — that is, of future health — to the sick person. 32 The Stewardship of Faith of Jesus as to the class of persons who could be admitted to the kingdom was wholly unacceptable. In their eyes this was the especial privilege of the righteous and pious in Israel; but Jesus announced that he had come to call sinners. In the later forms of the text this is softened by changing the phrase to "caU sinners to repentance." In one sense, no doubt, this change is justified : Jesus did not teU sinners to continue sinning, and neverthe less offer them entry into the kingdom. But it ob scures the fuU importance of the message. The Scribes did not seriously consider the possibihty that a "Pubhcan"1 or a "Sinner" — that is to say, any one who did not observe all the obHgations of the Scribes' interpretation of the Law — would be admitted to the kingdom, nor did they take any special pains to convert these despised elements among the people. Jesus, on the other hand, regarded himself as having a special mission to these classes, and offered to those who would 1 It is scarcely necessary to say that the publicans were tax- collectors, or perhaps more exactly custom-house officers; but I prefer to keep the old translation, because the whole point is that the "publicans" of the Roman administration were a hated and despised class; this connotation, which is essential, is not pre served by the translation "tax-collector, " because, however much taxes or customs may be disliked, no one — except momentarily — passes his dislike of them on to the tax-collector, or custom-house officer. The Teaching of Jesus 33 foUow him in his mission of preaching and pre paration the certainty of entry into the kingdom. It should be noted that this fact is sometimes exaggerated: Jesus did not say that only those who foUowed him would be admitted, and he did not deny the existence of "righteous" in Israel, to whom he was not sent, who needed no physician.1 The claim to have the exclusive right of entry to the kingdom of heaven — the essence of ecclesiasti- cism in the bad sense of the word — was perhaps made by the Scribes, or at least by some of them, but not by Jesus, though Christians have in this respect not always followed his example. On the one hand, then, the teaching of Jesus was in agreement with, and even went beyond, that of the Scribes. Therefore just as later on in the Rabbinical writings many passages were an imated by what we have come — not quite fairly — to regard2 as a specifically Christian spirit, there were, in the time of Jesus, undoubtedly many among 1 1 cannot see that we have the least reason to suppose that Jesus was ironical when he spoke in this way. ' It is not necessary to be a great Talmudist to realize that Christian theologians have for centuries been unfair to Rabbinical Judaism. I may perhaps be allowed to commend to the serious attention of those who desire to hear the Jewish side stated with fairness and learning, and by no means unsympathetically to Christianity, Mr. C. Montefiore's Judaism and St. Paid, and his The Synoptic Gospels. 3 34 The Stewardship of Faith the Jews who heard him gladly and accepted his teaching. But, on the other hand, this agreement was echpsed by the fact that his teaching was obnoxious and roused hostihty because it opened the door of hope to a despised and hated class. Moreover, serious friction arose, because whereas the teaching of Jesus went beyond that of the Pharisees in the intensive value attached to the law, as claiming the obedience of desires and wishes as well as of actions, he refused to go as far in the extent of the control which it demanded over con duct. Jesus put on one side the Sabbath law and the ceremonial law. He regarded with abhorrence the meticulous care which the Scribes devoted to indifferent actions. It was on this point that collisions most often arose, and heated controversy ensued. The synoptic narratives are fuU of this controversy, largely because it was continued in a modified form by the apostles, and therefore appealed to the present as well as to the historic interest of the writers of the gospels.1 1 It is again worth noting how far the writer of the fourth gospel departs from the facts, and rewrites them in the light of the controversy of his own time. The discussion with the Jews re mains; but it is scarcely at all concerned with the observance of the law. The question discussed is the nature and functions of Jesus, which had, of course, become the burning point of dispute between Christians and Jews a generation after his death, but was scarcely discussed at all during his life. In this instance, too, the The Teaching of Jesus 35 The polemic against the Pharisees and Scribes in the gospels has always been recognized: but that against the Zealots is quite as important, and has unfortunately been often overlooked. * Much of the teaching of Jesus becomes intelligible only when we place it in contrast to that of the Zealots. He demanded that men should beheve that. the king dom would come, not because of their fighting, but because of their suffering. "In your suffering — your patient endurance — shall you win your Hves " ; "he that suffers to the end shaU be saved " ; "resist not evil" and similar passages seem to be clearly directed against the exactly opposite Zealot teaching. The positive side of this teaching is carried still further. It calls upon men to give up all their possessions, to abandon their wealth, to cut them selves loose from the ties of family ; it excludes the rich from the kingdom — at least, that seems to be the plain meaning — and it cans on men to foUow one who has not where to lay his head. It is the synoptic narrative justifies its historical nature. Second-century Christianity would never have invented a story concerned only with a controversy which, even if it still existed, was no longer the main issue. 'Honourable exception must be made of H. Windisch: Der messiamsche Krieg und das Urchristenlum, and K. F. Proost: De Bergrede, hare herkomst en strekking (The Sermon on the Mount, its Origin and Tendencies). 36 The Stewardship of Faith extremest negation of all possible kinds of what we call social values. It is a caU to men to set themselves free of everything that ties them down and binds them to society as it is. I submit that it is only inteUigible if you understand that it comes from a circle which beheved that society in its existing form was doomed, and that those would have the best chance — the only chance, indeed — of entering into the coming age, the new society, the kingdom of God, who were not tied down and smothered by that which was so soon to perish. After all, if we were quite certain that this world was going to cease to exist in a few months, we should not take any interest in social conditions or pohtics, or even in the smaller problems of private Hfe ; nor would it be rational for us to do so. The reason why it is rational for us to do these things, and is wrong for us not to take a Hvely interest in them, is because we are as firmly assured that society is going to continue as the disciples of Jesus were convinced that it was coming to an end. But if this view of the gospels be correct do we not reduce the whole teaching of Jesus to some thing which is negligible, because it was based on a complete misconception of what was going to happen? On the contrary, for that very reason The Teaching of Jesus 37 it was able to put certain values of the greatest possible importance into clear Hght, and it could have done so in no other way. It cut out the social values. That is true, but an iUustration wiU serve to show the gain of this omission. Those who have ever studied photography know that usually they are deahng with plates which are too sensitive to blue and insufficiently sensitive to yellow Hght, so that difficulties arise if they want to photograph something which contains a great deal of yeUow. They therefore use a screen of yellow glass, which cuts out the other rays of hght, so that they obtain artificiaUy a world in which there is Httle except yellow Hght, and thus overcome the Hmitations of their plates. From the point of view of this illustration our minds are photographic plates Which are too sensitive to certain social values, and not sensitive enough to certain spiritual values; and I beheve that the eschatological point of view of the Jews and of Jesus has served as the yellow screen which has enabled us to overcome this lack of proportion. Broadly speaking, it may be said that there are two aspects of ethical teaching. The first is that with which in modern times we are so familiar, the teaching which says that the first thing a man has to do is to be a good citizen. This is the world- 38 The Stewardship of Faith affirming ethic which says that this world as we have it is God's world. That is a perfectly true statement: We are put here to work, and if we scorn society, and do not do our fair share, we are shirking the responsibihty which has been put upon our shoulders. Therefore it is our duty to take part in aU such things as social, pohtical, and national duties (which may not appeal to us very much in themselves), because they are the things which we are put here to do. But there is also another kind of ethical teach ing — the teaching which denies the world; which says that these social and national claims are doubtless vahd, but there is something beyond them aU, and a man is more than a good citizen. There are times when he has the right and the duty not to be hurrying about, and busily doing some thing, but rather to go aside and think about the meaning of Hfe. There come times when he will not even be able to do his work in the world prop erly, if he do not throw aside the world alto gether for a moment, and stand apart from the hurry and toil of life as it is now, to ask himself what he wiU do in the end thereof. This is the world-renouncing1 ethic which says that, although 1 It is not quite clear to me whether "world-renouncing" is really the best possible expression for what is intended. In some ways The Teaching of Jesus 39 many possessions and wide interests enable a man not only to enjoy Hfe, but also to do much good to other people, if he be not able at times to throw off all their claims he becomes the slave of his own surroundings. Stated in terms of modern Hfe, it reminds us that although it be true that society, so far as we can see, is permanent, and that the world is not speedily coming to an end by means of some dra matic cataclysm, it is nevertheless true that we personaUy are coming to an end, so far as the world or society is concerned, within a period which, after all, cannot be so very long. And, stated in the terms of ancient Jewish life, it is this ethic which is presented most vividly and most strongly in just those parts of the New Testa ment which represent the teaching of Jesus when he and his hearers were looking at Hfe under the influence of the eschatological expectation. The effect of that expectation was to hide almost entirely the more obvious duties of a "world- "self-renouncing" would be better; but this also is not wholly satisfactory, and therefore, though with some hesitation, I have conformed to the usual phraseology. What however is important is to distinguish clearly between the world-renunciation or self- renunciation of Jesus, which does not imply any dualistic theory that the "world" or the "self" is inherently evil, and the Gnostic doctrine which demanded world-renunciation because it con demned the world as incurably evil. 40 The Stewardship of Faith affirming ethic" in daily Hfe, but in the darkness thus induced some of the eternal hghts shone out, as the stars during an echpse. It is the fashion to call an ethic conditioned by the eschatological expectation an "interim ethic," but though there is of course a sense in which the phrase is correct, it is weU to remember that the "interim" element is not inherent in the ethic, but rather in the cir cumstances to which it is apphed. In a very real sense no ethic is so truly "interim" as that which affirms a world to which our relationship is but the transitory and fleeting measure of earthly existence; and none deserves the name so Httle as that which emphasizes man's ephemeral nature, even though it form an inaccurate image of the method of his passing away. Of course there are other views as to the inter pretation of the gospels. For instance there are critics who maintain that aU the eschatological teaching is a later addition to the gospel. They cut it out by the somewhat free use of the critical knife. But I do not think that they are successful in explaining its origin. If it be not genuine, who invented it? Can they seriously ascribe it to a later generation, Hving when the expectation of the coming of the kingdom had been shown by The Teaching of Jesus 41 the event to be illusory? Moreover they nearly always explain away the world-renouncing teaching. But by this sort of interpretation they are surely not giving us what the historic Jesus really said in aU its strength and vividness. They are giving us a mixture of what he said toned down by what they feel to be the claims of the world- accepting ethics which are necessary for modern society. And the tragedy, to my mind, is that they give us something which is neither very good world-accepting ethic nor very good world-renounc ing ethic. They bring it all down to a common place level, and, by cutting out the eschatological element from the gospels, they not only make Jesus into some one who does not really belong to the first century, but also, to my mind, does not, with their reconstruction, really belong quite adequately to any century. Their Jesus is not historical, and the just nemesis is that they do not seem able to give an adequate answer to the rising school of students of Hterature in Germany which has more or less taken their reconstruction of the historic Jesus, and has said that it is not an historic figure at aU, but a production of second- century Christianity. But this reconstruction of the historic Jesus which they attack is really the 42 The Stewardship of Faith product not of second-century Christianity but of nineteenth-century Liberahsm. There arises here, however, another difficulty. If the teaching of Jesus was the suggested com bination of a Jewish eschatological expectation of the coming of the kingdom with a world-re nouncing ethic, why was he crucified by the Romans at the instigation of the high priests? One answer which is sometimes given is that the Messianic claim was deeply resented as blasphe mous. This was no doubt used as an excuse to secure a condemnation, but it does not appear that Jesus ever openly claimed to be the Messiah : that was in any case a secret revealed only to a very small circle of disciples who were forbidden to make it pubhc. It is even possible that this secret was what Judas betrayed,1 but it is in any 1 The betrayal is a difficulty which is not at first felt, and is often overlooked. Usually it is supposed that Judas betrayed some secret hiding-place; but there is nothing in the narrative to justify this. What the priests wanted was evidence to justify a condemnation, not information to lead to an arrest. It is also probable that the publication of the Messianic secret (perhaps perverted, see p. 45) was the reason why the crowd in Jerusalem so suddenly changed from cries of "Hosanna" to shouts of "Crucify him." They gladly welcomed the announcement of the coming of the kingdom, but the claim to be Messiah, when the kingdom was obviously not yet come, was regarded as a blasphemous absurdity. Possibly, too, the choice of Barabbas by the crowd The Teaching of Jesus 43 case clear that the official hostility is inadequately explained by a secret which had played no part in the pubhc teaching of Jesus. We are thus driven to look in a different direction to find the reason for the hostility of the priests, and especiaUy for its suddenness. So far as we can see, there is no serious contro versy between Jesus and the priests, often iden tified with the Sadducees,1 until the last week in Jerusalem. This is natural: the priests were certainly as much opposed to the Zealots as was Jesus, and they do not appear to have accepted the Scribes' teaching as to the law. They were probably rich and somewhat pohticaUy minded ecclesiastics ; to have doubted that the kingdom of was a movement towards Zealotism in preference to Quietism; but the problem of Barabbas is very difficult. 1 The view which is generally accepted is that the Sadducees were a political party rather than a sect, and that the priests mostly belonged to it. This fact would be connected with the meaning of Sadducee, which is probably merely "Zadokite," from Zadok, David's high priest. It is unnecessary to discuss the question here, but I would wish to protest that the whole question of the real nature of Pharisees and Sadducees is not yet settled. The evidence of Josephus is usually less widely studied than that of Schurer, whose deservedly famous work has in some circles been treated with more respect than the documents on which it is based. There are instructive articles by B. D. Eerdmans and H. Oort in the Theol. Tijdschrift, January and May, 1914, on the question of the Pharisees, and my friend, Prof. Wensink, has drawn my attention to Leszynski, Die Sadducaer. 44 The Stewardship of Faith God was coming — ultimately — would have seemed to them a dangerously sceptical opinion, but the interim ethic which appealed to them was the adequate support of institutions rather than the promulgation of new ideas. That a GaHlean fanatic was convinced that the kingdom of God was coming immediately might be disturbing to the crowd, but fortunately his teaching that men should abandon their possessions would go far to neutrahze any bad results; and the doctrine that it was better to suffer persecution rather than rise in rebelhon would have a positively beneficial effect upon minds apt to be inflamed by the dan gerous incitements of the Zealots. But this com placent attitude received a rude shock when Jesus reached Jerusalem, and at once protested by word and action against the sale of animals and the changing of money in the Temple. We are apt to overlook the significance of this event; but it was, I think, the immediate cause of the crucifixion. The priests were in possession of a commercial monopoly: in practice1 no one could offer a sacrifice in the Temple except by buying a victim in a market controUed by the 1 In theory it was no doubt possible, if any one were fortunate enough to find a victim which the priests would accept as without defect. The Teaching of Jesus 45 priests. No one could give money except in Jewish coin, to obtain which he was obliged to exchange the current Roman coinage at the table of the money-exchangers — also controlled by the priests — and for this of course he would pay a commission. Thus the same supply of Jewish coin would keep on an endless circuit, passing from the money-changer to the pious Jew who wished to contribute his offering, from him to the priest, and from the priest back to the money changer, and each time the circle was completed there was a profit on the transaction. It was against this commercial monopoly that Jesus protested when he spoke of a den of thieves. The den of thieves retaliated by accusing him of rebelhon against the Romans, and in spite of his teaching of non-resistance to persecution they secured a conviction by making use of the infor mation that Jesus regarded himself as the coming Messiah, who would reign in a kingdom which would take the place of the Roman Empire. By a curious but intelligible process Christians came in the next generation to put on the Scribes and their successors, the Rabbis, the guilt of the judicial murder of Jesus. That is because the controversy between the Christians and the Jews was primarily a matter which concerned the 46 The Stewardship of Faith Scribes. It centred in the exposition of the law, and the interpretation of Scripture, especially the Messianic passages. It was natural to connect the existing Jewish opponents with the death of Jesus. But it seems to me that financial interest rather than theological hatred was the real cause of the accusation of the priests, though they dressed it up in a partly political, partly rehgious form. I do not think that history gives us reason for supposing that the financial interests of" a wealthy class are an inadequate explanation of a failure of justice. Another question may be conveniently raised at this point: did Jesus himself expect to be put to death? It is clear that the disciples beheved — after the event — that he had foreseen this result, and interpreted his sayings in this manner. But it must always remain doubtful whether Jesus went up to Jerusalem with the expectation of death or of the coming of the kingdom. That he expected rejection by the rulers of Jerusalem is clear; but did that imply death? Again, that he expected ultimate triumph after this rejection is also clear; but was this triumph to be the parousia — the coming of the Son of Man revealed as Messiah — or a resurrection from the dead? In The Teaching of Jesus 47 the light of history Christian tradition decided for death and resurrection, rather than rejection and parousia, which is postponed to a future date. But did Jesus speak in this way himself? If he were convinced that he was going up to Jerusalem to die and rise again, why were the disciples thrown into such consternation by his death, what is the meaning of the cry of despair on the cross, and why did the disciples explain their downcast ap pearance by saying that they had hoped that he would redeem Israel? All these are questions easy to ask and difficult or impossible to answer; but they are really inherent in the gospels and are not raised by any love of destructive criticism. Thus two related questions are finally reached, which almost all Christians since the time of St. Peter at Caesarea Philippi have put in the fore ground, yet Jesus himself never emphasized and probably never discussed in public. What did he think of himself? And what did he say of himself? It is necessary to distinguish clearly between what Jesus openly said of himself, and what he thought and allowed a small circle of his disciples to know, but not to publish. So far as can be seen from the synoptic narrative, when Jesus was speaking in public he said nothing of himself. He preached the kingdom, "for this 48 The Stewardship of Faith cause," he said, "I came out."1 So far as his public activity was concerned his personaHty was entirely subordinate to his preaching. He might know, by the special revelation of God, what was the high position reserved for him in the coming kingdom, but it was his secret. For the pubhc it was enough that he should dehver his message, that they should beheve it and repent. Disciples or demoniacs who guessed at the truth were alike forbidden to reveal it; even John the Bap tist, when he sent from prison to ask whether Jesus was "he who should come," received no definite answer. That he spoke as a prophet — in the spirit of the Lord — he admitted ; those who said that he cast out devils by Beelzebub blas phemed not mail, but the Holy Spirit. Very probably,2 too, he took to himself the passages in 1 Mark i., 38. 2 The reason for hesitating is that the clearest indications are found only in passages peculiar to Matthew or Luke (cf. Matt. xii., 18, and Luke iv., 16 ff.) ; there is little or nothing to bear on the question in Mark. Personally, however, I think that although the teaching [of the disciples may have emphasized the connexion of Jesus with the "Suffering Servant" more than Jesus did him self, it is still probable that the idea may be traced to him, because it is implied in the answer given to the disciples of John (Matt. xi. , 5 =Lc. vii., 22), in a passage which comes from Q. The designa tion of Jesus as irots in Acts iii. and iv. is perpetuated in early liturgical usage (1 Clement, Didache, Martyr. Polycarpi, etc.), but it gives us little help in consequence of the difficult problem of the sources of Acts, raised in its most acute form in these chapters. The Teaching of Jesus 49 Isaiah which referred to the "Servant of the Lord" who was anointed with the Spirit in order to preach good news to the poor and was destined first to suffer rejection and indignity and after wards to be exalted by God; but it is noteworthy that though this passage was afterwards regarded by Christians as Messianic, it was never given this interpretation by the Jews.1 This — that Jesus did not announce himself pubhcly as Messiah or Christ — is one of the most certain facts in the gospel narrative.2 It is ob scured if the fourth gospel be put on a level with the synoptic gospels, but it can scarcely be doubted if modern synoptic criticism be accepted. On the other hand, it seems equaUy clear that Jesus was convinced that when the kingdom came he would be the Messiah,3 — the King anointed by God, — and a very small inner circle of disciples had been aUowed to share, or in any case had 1 Noticeable too is the way in which the "triumphal entry" into Jerusalem is greeted by the crowd with cries in honour of the coming of the kingdom: it is in Mark not personally Messianic, though it is possibly so in Matthew, and more plainly so in Luke. 2 The use of the phrase, Son of Man, does not invalidate this conclusion. It would break the line of the discussion too much if the point were argued in the text, but an additional note on pp. 54-57 endeavours to give the main points of the problem. s Might we formulate this opinion more sharply by saying that Jesus believed that the exaltation promised to the Suffering Servant was his appointment as Messiah? 50 The Stewardship of Faith discovered, this secret. Probably, too, this con viction of Jesus was intimately connected with the voice of God which he had heard when he was baptized by John the Baptist. Unless the gospels are so hopelessly corrupt that no historical evi dence can be gained from them, I do not see how this can be doubted. Jesus did not aUow his disciples to pubhsh the secret during his Hfetime, but after his death they announced the fact in Jerusalem and regarded the resurrection either as the proof that Jesus was the Messiah, or as the moment when he became Messiah. It was this inner circle of disciples, and their preaching of the Messianic secret, which became the foundation of the Christianity which survived, but it is important to notice at once that on the one hand there must have been many disciples who had neither heard of nor accepted the Messianic secret, but remained waiting for the kingdom of God, and endeavouring to Hve as Jesus had instructed them, and on the other hand, that even the teaching of those who ac cepted the Messianic secret was very far removed from the developed doctrine of the incarnate Word which ultimately conquered the Roman Empire. Such is a general statement of the view of the teaching of Jesus and of some of the difficulties The Teaching of Jesus 51 surrounding it, which seems to be reached by a study of the earliest parts of the gospels in the light thrown by Jewish apocalyptic Hterature. It has been caUed the tragedy of faith, but it reaUy only represents the shipwreck of the hope of Liberal criticism in the nineteenth century to find in a critical reconstruction of the historic Jesus a solution for the problems of the present generation. If we go back a Httle we find that men beheved in an infallible Bible, and that behef has been forced from us by the undeniable proof of fallibility. The same may be said of the behef in an infallible Church. But Liberal Protestantism in the nineteenth century thought that historical criticism would remove all the misrepresentations of later tradition and reveal the figure of the historic Jesus as infallible.1 Is that hope also to go? Yes, I fear so. It is impossible to find its fulfilment in Jesus if he conditioned his teach ing by Jewish apocalypticism, and beheved in 1 Moreover, there is a constant tendency, not only among Liberal Protestants, but also among many who would indignantly renounce the name, to confuse — not identify — Jesus with the Logos (see p. 158 f). It is permissible to explain Jesus in terms of a philosophy which he never used, but scarcely to make claims on his behalf to powers which he neither claimed nor exercised. It is, I think, the permanent contribution of Dr. Gore to modern theology that he made this so plain to those who were students in Oxford in the nineties, though of course I do not imply that this was his intention. 52 The Stewardship of Faith what was, after all, an illusory expectation of the coming of the kingdom of God. But is this a tragedy? It is, if we have any right to look any where for an infalhble guide; but what if the de sire for infalHbihty is altogether wrong? What if truth is something which we can grasp only in approximation, which can only be presented to the human mind in forms which are imperfect, so that each generation, and each individual, has to struggle to pierce, as it were, through the form to the underlying reality? Rehgion — to take a single manifestation of truth — may be regarded (though this is but one way of looking at it) as conversation between the Heavenly Father and his children. But that conversation is not carried on without difficulty, or without effort on the part of the children. It is their natural but mistaken instinct to try to find some way of escap ing that difficulty and effort. For the striving of the Spirit in personal rehgion they have tried to substitute an infalhble Church, an infallible Bible, an infalhble historic Jesus. But aU these have failed us, and we are driven back to a Hving religion of communion with God, without the intervention of any other guide claiming to be an infallible substitute for personal effort. It is not a tragedy; and those who fight against The Teaching of Jesus 53 it as threatening to extinguish faith seem to me to be like men who have worked through the night and at break of day wish to cover up the windows, lest the Hght of their candles be made dim by the rising sun. For in the end — if men have but faith not in formularies but in the guidance of life — they come back to aU that seems lost and find in it new and greater values. They come back to the Church and find in it a community of men who in every age have known best, and described best, what rehgion was to them. They come back to the Bible and find in it a collection of writings which have given classic expression to some of the secrets of spiritual Hfe. They come back to the historic Jesus, and find, not an infal hble escape from all those "modern difficulties," which are their own, for them to solve, but a guide who shows them the ultimate values of life, lifts them — if only for a moment — above the details of daily duty, and reveals to them the eternal verities, in order that they may return to the work of the world, and the responsibilities of Hfe, and work out the problems of this "interim" existence in the Hght of the vision which they have seen. 54 The Stewardship of Faith ADDITIONAL NOTE the meaning of "son of man" To have discussed this question in the body of the chapter would have disturbed the line of the argument to an undesirable degree. Nevertheless, without at tempting to add to the knowledge of the professed theologian, it is probably well to summarize the main points of this extraordinarily difficult problem. (i) In Aramaic "Son of Man" means a human being, * and is not a strange phrase, as it is in Greek or Enghsh. (2) In Daniel the supernatural being who represents the kingdom of the Most High is described as "like unto a Son of Man" — i.e. a human figure in distinction to the supernatural beings representing the kingdom of Babylon, etc., which were like the lower animals. Moreover in Enoch, apparently with a literary remin iscence of Daniel, the "Elect One," who may with some certainty be called the Messiah, is described as "a Son of Man, "2 and in the course of the visions he is referred to more than once as "that Son of Man," until at last he is given a name of supreme eminence, and appointed to act as judge at the assize of God. It is thus in Jewish Hterature the designation of a "man" in heaven, not on earth, who is predestined to become the Messiah. (3) In the gospels, Jesus is frequently referred to as the Son of Man, not as the Messiah; but in the Acts and Epistles, he is frequently referred to as the Mes- 1 The Aramaic (bar nasha) could be translated literally as "son of man" or idiomatically as "a man. " 2 Dr. R. H. Charles has argued in his edition of "Enoch" that The Teaching of Jesus 55 siah (Christ), and only once as the Son of Man. Son of Man, therefore, in the opinion of Christians, was correct as a designation of Jesus during his life, but not after his resurrection and ascension. It is thus in the gospels not the name of an essentially heavenly being. It is this which seems to differen tiate the usage of the gospels from that of Jewish apocalyptic literature. (4) In Oriental religions there are traces of a doctrine of a primeval divine Man, and it is thought by some scholars that this has affected, directly or indirectly, the Daniel-Enoch tradition. Personally I am scepti cal on this point, though there is very little doubt but that the "Man" of some gnostic speculations is connected with this doctrine.1 Such are the main facts: there is comparatively little difference of opinion as to their nature, but much as to their application. Certain things seem to be probable, but the subject is eminently one which calls for caution, and the opening for error is considerable. In the first place the possibility is great that in the earlier chapters of Mark "Son of Man" is merely a misunderstanding of Aramaic tradition, written or oral, and that it means2 "a human being." This applies with peculiar force to the incident of the Sab bath. The question was not what the Messiah might "Son of Man" in itself means "Messiah"; but the facts seem to be against him. Nor does there seem to be much in favour of the view that "Son of Man" in the gospels is the same thing as the "Suffering Servant, '"though in later Christian thought Messiah, Suffering Servant, and Son of Man were almost interchangeable. 1 See W. Bousset, Hauptprobleme der Gnosis. ' Not that the writer of the gospel meant it in this sense, but that this had been its force in the original tradition. 56 The Stewardship of Faith do, but what ordinary human beings might do on the Sabbath. "The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath, therefore the Son of Man is lord also of the Sabbath," is the Marcan text, and the "therefore" is meaningless unless the "Son of Man" in the conclusion is the same as the "man" in the premiss. The same argument also applies to the discussion of the forgiveness of sin at the healing of the paralytic. The point was not what the Messiah could do, but what a man could do, and the question of Messianic claims is not alluded to. In the second place it seems to me almost certain that Jesus often referred to the coming of the Son of Man with a conscious allusion to Daniel, and probably to Enoch. But though it follows from the ' ' Messianic secret" that he believed that he was this "Son of Man," it equally follows that he did not say so openly, and as a corollary from this it follows that the use of the phrase in the gospels, as we have them, has been influenced by the interpretation of the disciples, who desired to make the identification of Jesus with the Son of Man more obvious, and sometimes said "Son of Man" when Jesus really said "I," and sometimes perhaps "I," when Jesus really said "Son of Man." I incline to doubt whether Jesus referred to himself as the Son of Man except in eschatological passages; and probably his hearers did not at the time realize, and were not intended to realize, that he meant him self. Of course criticism of the narrative on these lines is subjective, imperfect, and, no doubt, often inaccurate; but it seems to me to give a more intel ligible explanation of the facts than any other method. Finally, I must admit to being puzzled by the fact that "Son of Man" is characteristically used in the The Teaching of Jesus 57 gospels, including the fourth gospel, but only rarely in other books, and seems to have been interpreted by Christian writers as a description of the earthly Jesus, though the apocalyptic books and Jesus himself used it as a description of the heavenly Messiah, before he takes up the work of the Messiah.1 One would have expected that it would have been used by the Chris tians as a description of the exalted Jesus: but this is not the case, with the single exception of the dying vision of Stephen,2 in spite of the fact that Jesus himself describes the Son of Man coming from heaven, The other difficulties in connexion with the Son of Man admit of possible, though tentative, solutions; but I know of no complete explanation of the fact that Luke did not use the phrase for the ascended Jesus in agreement with Jesus' own usage, and that of the apocalyptic writers, but applied it to Jesus in the days of his flesh. Moreover, it seems probable that the same thing is true even of Mark. Son of Man in the mouth of Mark, as distinct from the passages where it is probably an accurate quotation from Jesus himself, means Jesus on earth. It is thus not the equivalent of Messiah, a title which Mark avoids, but is rather " he who is to be Messiah." To some extent this may be explained as a somewhat confused recollection of Enoch, but the difficulty still remains that in Enoch Son of Man is a human figure in heaven, not a human figure on the earth. 1 Once more the eschatological side of the synoptic gospels vindi cates itself: it is plain enough that the writer used "Son of Man" as meaning "Jesus on earth"; but in the passages in which it is certain that Jesus uses it of himself, it refers to his coming as a heavenly being. Thus these passages are not Christian invention . ' In Apoc. i., 13, "like unto a son of man," is merely literary reminiscence from Daniel. CHAPTER III THE SPREAD OF THE CHURCH TO THE ROMAN EMPIRE The Marcan Tradition of the Resurrection — The Church in Jeru salem — The Hellenists — Cornelius and Modern Prob lems — The Roman Empire — The Cult of the Emperors — • Astral Stoicism — The Mysteries — The Synagogue — The God-fearers. THE events immediately succeeding the Cru cifixion are the most obscure in Christian history; but certain facts emerge, even though the course of events cannot be precisely foUowed. For the first days of the period the best infor mation given us is stiU to be found in the gospel of Mark. Although the narrative of the actual events no longer exists, * it is clear from the indi cation in Mark xvi., 7 ("TeU his disciples that he 1 Mark xvi., 9-20, by the common consent of almost all critics — I know of no exceptions, though such may possibly exist — is not part of the original gospel. It is not, however, probable that the gospel ended with the "for they were afraid," of Mark xvi., 8, though a few eminent scholars, such as Wellhausen, take this view. Unless they are right the one thing certain is, as stated above, that the appearance of the risen Lord was placed in Galilee. 58 The Church in the Roman Empire 59 goes before you to Gahlee, there you wiU see him"), that the disciples went to Gahlee, and first saw the risen Lord there, and not in the neighbourhood of Jerusalem. There is no reason to doubt this narrative. It was perfectly natural for the dis ciples to scatter back into Galilee when their journey to Jerusalem had ended in the crucifixion of their Master instead of in the coming of the kingdom. Nor is there any reason to doubt that they "saw" the Lord in Gahlee; all are forced to agree on this point, even if they differ as to the nature of the vision. But after this the Marcan narrative gives but partial help. It gives us, however, sufficient to enable us to see how the foUowers of Jesus arrived, not at only the fact that he had risen, but at some of the attendant circumstances. His grave had been found empty by certain women who had visited it; and a "young man" had spoken words which seemed to assure them of the Resurrection. It must be remembered, however, that whilst scien tific criticism is bound to follow the best tradition so far as it relates facts, it is not obhged to accept their traditional explanation. We may concede the fact that the tomb was empty, even though we think it improbable that the corpse of Jesus had been materially resuscitated, or doubt whether 6o The Stewardship of Faith the report ofthe words of the "young man" has not been coloured by subsequent Christian behef. To foUow the story further it is necessary to turn to Acts. This is unfortunately less convincing in the earher than in the later chapters. Com paring the third gospel and Acts with Mark it is clear that the writer of the former books omits altogether the episode of the flight of the disciples to Gahlee and the vision of the risen Jesus. He is unaware of, if he does not dehberately reject, any story involving the absence of the disciples from Jerusalem. Nor does he give us any information as to the return of the disciples, nor specify the events leading to the estabhshment of a community at Jerusalem. Some things may, however, be gathered from his narrative and regarded as certain. The new community did not separate itself from the Jewish rehgion. The brethren remained steadfast to the same teaching as Jesus had given — the behef in the coming of the king dom, and the need of repentance — but they seem to have laid less emphasis on the points of difference between themselves and the dominant parties of the Jews: we hear nothing more of controversy as to the Sabbath or the laws of purification. Thus they continued to frequent the Temple, and the leaders of the Jews, apart from some not The Church in the Roman Empire 61 very severe attempts at repression, took no active measures to expel them permanently. Only in two aspects did they differ seriously from their feUow-countrymen. In the first place, they be heved that Jesus was the predestined Messiah, in support of which view they appealed to the Re surrection rather than the more ethical questions which Jesus had put in the foreground, until this gradually became the main subject of contention between them and the hierarchy. In the second place, they claimed that they had been granted a special outpouring of the Holy Spirit, and this — doubtless based on psychological experience — they regarded as the gift of the exalted Jesus, and as the fulfilment of eschatological prophecy.1 1 One of the most difficult problems of interpretation is to find out what relation was supposed to subsist between the Spirit and the risen Jesus. As a preliminary we need to know what was the Jewish conception of the event which justified the statement that "the spirit of Elijah rests on Elisha." The spirit which spoke through Elijah — or the other prophets — was the Spirit of the Lord, but it was also in some sense the spirit of Elijah. I take it that the disciples regarded the Holy Spirit which came over them as in the same way the Spirit of God, and also the Spirit of Jesus. Another point of importance is the analogy from the other side of pneumatology — demonology — afforded by the fact that, as Josephus says, the demons were the ghosts of wicked men, and that yet the demons were also diabolic beings. Once more, what is the connection between these facts, the Syriac custom of giving the title of Lord to dead persons of eminent sanctity (much as Western Christians use the title Saint), and the Pauline identifica tion of the Lord and the Spirit? The problem is obvious, but I 62 The Stewardship of Faith This gift of the Spirit, accompanied by curious physical phenomena — as extreme emotion fre quently is — was especially valued, and was re garded as the confirmation of their behef, and the assurance of their favoured position in the kingdom. The conversion of some HeUenistic Jews in Jerusalem changed the situation. Born or edu cated, as these had been, in different parts of the Empire outside Palestine, they naturaUy united the Hberal principles of the Dispersion to the teaching of Jesus. Their doctrinal innovations provoked the authorities to put to death the leader of the move ment, the proto-martyr Stephen, and to disperse the Christian community. But the Apostles, we are told, remained, and the older Hebrew Chris tians apparently ralhed again in Jerusalem in a church which, according to tradition, continued for some two generations. But the story of Chris tianity is the story of those who were driven out of Jerusalem, not of those who remained, and the most remarkable fact — assumed in Acts, but passed over without explanation — is that Peter, the original leader of the community at Jerusalem, moved over to the Hellenistic development, and do not know of any treatise which satisfactorily deals with the whole subject. The Church in the Roman Empire 63 the leadership of the disciples at Jerusalem was taken by James, the Lord's brother. The Hellenistic movement, urged on by perse cution, spread rapidly to places which were more Gentile than Jewish; and the question could not long be postponed, whether the gospel might be preached to Gentiles without insisting on their becoming Jews and submitting to circumcision. The author of the Acts gives in order the stages in which the treatment of this problem developed. First comes the conversion, reception of the Spirit, and baptism — notice the order of events — of the Roman centurion, Cornelius. This settled the question of principle, and the Hellenistic move ment next spread rapidly to Antioch, where it formed a new centre of activity and under the leadership of Barnabas and Paul undertook a further extension of missionary work. Then we have the account of the mission to Cyprus and Galatia of Barnabas and Paul, representing the church of Antioch, with a wholesale and appar ently unconditional admission of Gentiles. This stimulated the older community at Jerusalem to protests and hostile propaganda, and to the de mand that all converts should be circumcised and observe the Law. Lastly, we have the story of the council of Jerusalem, which laid down some- 64 The Stewardship of Faith what obscure conditions for the conduct of Gentile Christians but was in the main a triumph for the Antiochene mission. Henceforward Hellenistic Christianity was com mitted to missionary propaganda in the Roman Empire on lines differing from those of the Jewish missionaries or of Judaistic Christians, and — though this was no doubt not recognized at the time — it was inevitably destined, as the condition of success, to adopt Grseco-Roman or Graeco- Oriental forms of expression, both in theology and cultus, and to lose much of its originally Jewish character. It is therefore necessary at this point to break off from the history of Christianity and turn to the consideration of the Roman Empire, into which it now began to make its way. But before entering on this subject it is well to em phasize the abiding importance of the first of the incidents just enumerated — the acceptance by St. Peter of the Roman centurion. The conversion of Cornelius represents the recognition of facts and a consequent change of principle. Up to that time nationality, whether obtained by birth or by proselytism, which is only another name for naturahzation, and circumcision, which was the national custom, were the neces sary conditions of entry into the kingdom of God. The Church in the Roman Empire 65 When the kingdom came all its members would enjoy the gift of the Spirit, and the Christians who had received the Spirit had done so as a fore taste of the privileges of the Messianic period. That any one should enjoy the gift of the Spirit and nevertheless be outside the kingdom of God was a contradiction in terms. Therefore when CorneHus received the gift of the Spirit, though he had neither become a Jew nor been circumcised, the Christians drew the conclusion which the logic of facts impressed on them, "Then to the Gentiles also hath God granted repentance unto life." The early founders of the HeUenistic church accepted the witness of the Spirit as superior to the authority of custom or tradition, even though the tradition had the authority of the words of Moses and of the thunder of Sinai. It is impossible not to feel that one of the ways in which official Christianity in the great orthodox churches, as weU Protestant as Cathohc, is stand ing at the cross roads, is that it is hesitating whether to foUow the example of the HeUenistic or the Judaizing Christians. What makes a Chris tian ? is a question more and more often heard. The official churches answer, according to their respec tive tenets: "Baptism," "The acceptance of a Christocentric creed," "Episcopal orders," "The 66 The Stewardship of Faith recognition of the Pope,"' and appeal to the Scripture and the authority of tradition. His- toricaUy they are aU more or less right, and on the whole the more "Cathohc" the greater is their historical justification. But historicaUy the Judaizing Christians were right, for the authority of tradition and scriptural proof was on their side. The one thing necessary, however, was the evi dence of existing spiritual life, and that was on the side of CorneHus and St. Peter. So it is also today. There are Quakers and Unitarians who have Httle claim to be regarded as Christians if the matter is to be settled by an appeal to his torical evidence. But they have the testimonium spiritus sancti, the witness of existing spiritual Hfe. No one who has ever had the privilege of admission to their devotions can doubt that their rehgious life has exactty the same spiritual quahty as that of the Christians who are historicaUy most correct. The "great churches," if they rely on historical evidence, have unanswerable arguments in favour of rejecting the claims of this new type of Christianity,2 and can do aU over the world what they have done in HoUand — degrade " Chris- 1 Or they combine these in varying proportions. 2 1 am not writing in the interests of "reunion" — which I distrust — but of a frank recognition of the value and equality of many institutional forms of the one spiritual life. The Church in the Roman Empire 67 tian" to the recognized title of a special type~of theological thought. But if in this way they rest their appeal on the past, to the past they wiU soon belong, for, in the language of St. Peter, who are they to withstand God? In whatever language it be expressed, the foundation of Christianity is the possession of the Spirit, not theological for mulae or the preservation of traditional forms, and the Spirit wiU not long remain with those who refuse to Hsten to its witness. The most remarkable feature of the history of the early Empire is that it represents a double stream of progress. Pohtical progress was con stantly moving from West to East, but rehgious Hfe was moving from East to West, and the con fluence of these two streams produced many strange eddies of opinion and practice. At the time when Christianity first began to enter the Empire at Antioch — high up in the west ward flowing stream — the Empire was still young. Many things, such as the government of the provinces, were comparatively undeveloped, but it is allowable for the present purpose to look somewhat further ahead, and regard the Empire as it became after a slightly longer development, in or der to understand the principles which it embodied. 68 The Stewardship of Faith If we consider the Roman Empire first of all from its pohtical side, which was in many ways the most important, it is impossible to avoid no ticing in how many ways it reminds us of our own time. Again and again in reading about it we have an uncanny feeling that it is not a description of something past, but only a shghtly distorted picture of what is going on now, or may be going to happen in the immediate future. And, though the policy of the Roman Empire with regard to nationahty was more Hke that of the British Empire than anything else in modern civiHzation, the condition of society in the Empire resembled some sides of American life as much as anything existing in the old world. In the first place it was a society in which the governing class belonged, as a whole, to a different race from the classes which were being governed. There was at the head of affairs a small Roman population which was with extraordinary skiU managing affairs, and extending the limits of civiHzation, but below it there was a great crowd which was not Roman, but was serving the Romans and doing the work of the Empire under their guidance — a crowd drawn from Greece, Gaul, Spain, Syria, Armenia, Egypt, Africa, Mesopo tamia, and being slowly welded together by learn- The Church in the Roman Empire 69 ing to work better, and in some cases to think more straightly. That was the task which the Roman Empire was trying to fulfil by a system of provinces and municipalities, each with some degree of autonomy, but all ultimately responsible to the central authority. No book gives a more interesting ghmpse of the working of the system than those letters which preserve the correspondence of the Emperor Trajan and PHny when the latter was governor of a province. It shows that the Empire was faced by certain grave difficulties; and those which most come to the front are, in the first place, that there were not enough good men who were prepared to take up the service of the state, and, in the second place, that in the province over which PHny was set the local administration was partly foohsh and partly corrupt. The men who were in charge of the government of the towns were spending money not in the real interests of the town to which they belonged, but in the in terests of themselves, and of their friends. The municipal government was corrupt, and where it was not corrupt it was often foohsh, so that the municipal authorities became the easy prey of the rich Greeks or Syrians who made their living as parasites upon the system of the municipal govern- 70 The Stewardship of Faith ment. It was faihng, then, because it was partly corrupt and partly unintelligent. And as the necessary outcome of these difficulties there was a constant tendency on the part of the authorities to truckle to the baser parts of the population, to spend money in organizing games, wild beast fights, and other things which appealed to their lower instincts. Those were the difficulties against which an upright and able governor like Pliny had to fight ; they were throughout its history the difficulties of the Roman Empire on the political side. We cannot but admire the enormous energy of that comparatively small body of Romans who did, in spite of these obstacles, contrive for at least three centuries to maintain a successful struggle, even though we are obhged to admit that in the end the Empire failed ; partly because it did not succeed completely in overcoming its difficulties; and also, I think, partly because that smaU body of men was unequal to the task. They became a tired nation, they let the work fall from their hands, and the Dark Ages came. ' 1 Such, at least, is the impression made on me by the picture of society in the fourth century so graphically presented by Dr. Dill. The great country houses of Italy and Gaul show us great culture and considerable piety, but not much energy. A hundred years later they had ceased to exist. The Church in the Roman Empire 71 If we turn to the stream of Oriental rehgions, which was flowing westward into the Empire, and look for the part which was most closely con nected with the progress of Roman civiHzation, there can be no hesitation in choosing the cult of the emperors. The behef that kings are divine is originaUy an Oriental behef, so far as the history of the rehgious Hfe of the Roman Empire is concerned, though it may have belonged in almost prehistoric days to primitive Roman rehgion and is probably part of primitive rehgion almost everywhere.1 Its immediate history in the period which con cerns us seems to be that it was found in the East by Alexander the Great, was adopted by the Ptolemies and the Seleucid kings, his successors in Egypt and Asia, and passed from them to the Caesars. It was at first especially strong in the eastern provinces, but gradually be came the central cult of the official Hfe of the Empire. The memory of the struggle for Hfe and death which was waged between this cult and the Church in the second and third centuries makes us inchned to ignore its true nature. To us it is a ridiculous 1 Cf. J. G. Frazer, Lectures on the Early History of the Kingship, and the third edition of The Golden Bough. 72 The Stewardship of Faith superstition, only possible to sycophantic courtiers. But it had its other side. The pagan world of the first and second centuries was not so keenly alive as the Jewish or Christian churches to the claims of monotheism, but it felt deeply the truth of a theology which emphasized the working of /God in the world through the institutions of established society. Nor is it wonderful if it saw something divine in the Roman Empire and in its head — the Caesar. The period which ended with Actium had been a century of incessant struggle. Massacre, civil war, revolution, bloodshed, pro scription, and terror were its predominant features. Property had been without protection, and human Hfe without security. But with the reign of Augustus a new age seemed to have begun, the golden years of peace had returned — it was the work of the gods. Just as the Jews had comforted themselves with the hope that the kingdom of God was at hand, the Romans were proud to beheve that it had already come ; nor for a genera tion to whom the working of God in the world seemed always to appeal most vividly when it was presented in human form, clothed with the majesty of exceptional abihty and unusual power, was it difficult to believe that Augustus, whose efforts had thus wonderfully brought peace and The Church in the Roman Empire 73 order into a world of strife and confusion, was himself divine.1 This form of heathenism naturally brought with it a world-affirming ethic. This and its concept of law were its permanent contribution to progress. 2 It calls men to forget their personal interests not for the sake of their neighbours as individuals, but for society regarded as a Hving organism, worth more, in some mysterious and almost mystical way, than the sum of the individuals which com pose it, just as a man is more than the sum of his members. It was in one sense a rehgion, inas much as — at least to some minds — it was the working of God in the world, and the service of the state was really the service of God who willed the state. It would be very unfair to deny to this attitude a spiritual character and an insight into truth. But the intellect asks for more than the mere recognition of "God in Society"; it * A rich collection of inscriptions and quotations referring to the emperors as " Divine, " "Saviours," etc., is given by P. Wendland in an extremely important article, adrrrip, in the Zeitschrift fur neutestamentliche Wissenschaft, 1904, p. 335 ff. 2 Of course I do not mean that no other system ever had a world-affirming ethic. But the Roman Empire so stamped it into the human mind that within the limits of existing Western civilization it can never again be forgotten. Men may evade or exploit it, but even if with Pecksniffian lips, they will recognize as an axiom their "duty to society," which is a different (though allied) concept from the evangelical "love of neighbour." 74 The Stewardship of Faith desires a "view of the world," and the inteUect of the Roman Empire found this not in the inherited Roman rehgion (which it supported, at the insti gation of Augustus, partly as an interesting form of archaeology, partly as a convenient sedative for the lower classes), but in a combination of Stoicism and Astrahsm1 which formed another eddy in the westward-flowing stream of rehgion and theo logical speculation. This Astral Stoicism, perhaps best known to us now through the writings of Seneca, was probably introduced in the first place by the influence of Posidonius of Apamea. He had many pupils, of whom Cicero is the most widely known, and Manihus, the author of the Astronomica, perhaps the best representative.2 The main features of this Weltanschauung were a strict determinism based on the observation of the unvarying movements of the astral world and the theory that the same unswerving "fate" which 1 1 think that Astralism is a better word than Astrology, because in practice Astrology has come to mean foretelling the future by the stars. The teaching of — for instance — Manilius is a great deal more than this. 2 Cf. the Disputationes Tuscidanai and especially the Somnium Scipionis. Posidonius' own writings are not extant; of the growing modern literature on his work and influence some of the most important are Corsen, De Posidonio Rhodio, and E. Bevan's Stoics and Sceptics. The Church in the Roman Empire 75 guided the sun and planets and stars also guided human beings, so that there was a fixed connection between the circHng stars and the cycle of mortal Hfe, because the stars were partly subject to the same "Destiny" which reigned supreme in the universe, and partly were in some mysterious manner its agents. "Fate rules the world and all is estabhshed by fixed law"' is the conclusion to which Manilius comes. The supreme end of man was the complete surrender of himself to this omnipotent force, that he might so be identified with the deity as to find his sole pleasure in submitting to the decrees which he could in no case avoid, and thus in a certain sense achieve the presence of God in man — inpendendus homo est, deus esse ut possit in ipso.'' There was probably some degree of difference between individual members of this type of re hgious thought as to the emphasis which was laid on the direct influence of the stars or planets ; and the most elevated natures, such as Seneca, seem to have been Stoics and Determinists rather than Astral worshippers. They had broken with the 1 "Fatareguntorbem, certa stant omnia lege." — Man., iv., 14. 2 Manilius, iv., 407. The best statement of this view is F. Cumont: Astrology and Religion among the Greeks and Romans, 1912. Cf. also his La Religion solaire du Paganisme romain, 1909; and Fatalisme astral et Religions antiques, 1912. 76 The Stewardship of Faith ancestral mythology, and they did not replace it. In general terms they perceived the working of the same law in the natural and spiritual worlds, and they recognized the mediated working of that law alike in the stars of heaven and in the ruler of the Roman Empire on earth. They submitted to both, and so far as in them lay co-operated with both ; they beheved that in the end this was the way of Hfe and the road of happiness, but they did not pretend to explain in detail why it was so. It was an austere rehgion, but it was in no sense a bad or false religion. A true feeling for an anima naturaliter Christiana almost made the Christians of later centuries regard Seneca, its most remark able adherent, as a Christian saint, and I cannot refrain from quoting part of Dr. DiU's briUiant and sympathetic description of Seneca's rehgious position: Seneca had one great superiority over other equally religious souls of his time, which enables him to approach mediaeval and modern religious thought — he had broken absolutely with paganism. He started with belief in the god of the Stoic creed. He never mentions the Stoic theology which attempted to reconcile him with the gods of the Pantheon. In spite of all his rhetoric he tries to see the facts of human life and the relation of the human spirit to the Divine in the light of reason, with no intervening veil of The Church in the Roman Empire 77 legend. God is to Seneca the great Reality, however halting human speech may describe him as Fate, or Law, or Eternal Reason, or watchful Providence. God is within us, in whatever mysterious way, inspir ing good resolves, giving strength in temptation, with aU-seeing eye watching the issue of the struggle. God is without us, loading us with kindness even when we offend, chastising us in mercy, the goal of all specula tion, he from whom we proceed, to whom we go at death. The true worship of him is not in formal prayer and sacrifice, but in striving to know and imitate his infinite goodness. We mortal men in our brief Hfe on earth may be citizens of two common wealths, one the Rome or Corinth of our birth, the other that great city of gods and men, in which aU are equaUy united, male and female, bond and free, and children of a common Father. In this ideal citizenship, in obedience to the law of the spiritual city, the eternal law which makes for righteousness, man attains his full freedom and final beatitude in communion with kindred souls. Yet, as in mediaeval and Puritan theory, there is in Seneca a strange conflict between pessimism and idealism. To the doomed philosophic statesman of the reign of Nero the days of man's life are few and evil. Life is but a moment in the tract of infinite age, and so darkened by manifold sins and sorrows that it seems, as it did to Sophocles, a sinister gift. On the other hand, its shortness is a matter of no importance; the shortest Hfe may be full and glad if it be dignified by effort and resignation and conformity to the great law of the universe. The wise and pious man, ever conscious of his brief time of probation, may brighten each passing day into a festival and lengthen it into 78 The Stewardship of Faith a life. The shortness of life is only an iUusion, for long or short has no meaning when measured by the days of eternity. And the philosopher may unite many lives in one brief span. He may join himself to a company of sages who add their years to his, who counsel without bitterness and praise without flattery; he may be adopted into a family whose wealth in creases the more it is divided; in him all the ages may be combined in a single Hfe. To such a spirit death loses all terrors. The eternal mystery indeed can be pierced only by imaginative hope. Death we may be sure, however, can only be a change. It may be a passage into calm unconsciousness, as before our birth, which will release us from aU the griefs and tumults of the life here below. It may, on the other hand, prove to be the morning of an eternal day, the entrance to a radiant and untroubled world of infinite possibilities. In any case, the spirit which has trained itself in obedience to eternal law wiU not tremble at a fate which is surely reserved for the universe, by fire or flood or other cataclysms! change. The future in store for the soul is either to dwell for ever among things Divine, or to sink back again into the general soul, and God shall be all in aU. ' That is heathenism at its best: it is very Hke some forms of Christianity, and is certainly not a rehgion of which anyone need be ashamed. "We can only know in part, while we Hve here, and we may be sure that when that which is perfect is 1 Roman Society from Nero to Marcus Aurelius, second edition, P-33I/- The Church in the Roman Empire 79 come Christ wiU own many as his friends who have borne the Cross without hoping for the Crown."' For indeed the Hfe of a man like Seneca, trying to serve Nero in the empire, which was God's institution, and yet to keep his soul clean, is truly a picture of one who tried to bear the Cross in the form in which it was presented to him.2 Yet Seneca, and the Stoics generaUy, failed. Their rehgious system proved to have no real vitahty or power of convincing the majority of their hearers. One reason was because the spiritual atmosphere of Seneca's rehgion was too rarefied to be breathed by the ordinary man: it dealt too much in abstractions. But even more important is that in its presentation so much emphasis was laid on conduct that it ceased to be primarily rehgious, and became a system of ethics, touched with emotion, and justified by being brought into connection with a general view of the universe. It is very near religion, and contained many rehgious elements, but these were not central, and the more definitely rehgious, though far less 'Dean Inge in Contentio Veritatis, p. 103. "Other views have of course been held aboutSeneca's character: no doubt he had his failings, as indeed he admits, but I feel that the more anyone reads of Seneca the higher becomes the opinion formed of him. 80 The Stewardship of Faith intellectual and often far less ethical, classes turned in a different direction to the so-caUed mystery religions, which also came from the East, and frequently contained a large proportion of the astral stoicism of the followers of Posidonius. All the many forms of these Oriental mystery religions have certain points in common, though each has its own distinguishing features. Roughly speaking, they were cults, which narrated how at some epoch of history there had been a great being, either man or god, who, while hving on the earth, had found not only a way through the difficulties of human life, but also, by traversing the road of suffering, the secret of a safe passage along that dangerous journey which the soul of man must make when it goes at death from -the regions of this world into that which is beyond, and tries to win a path to the divine realms of bliss. To their foUowers they had entrusted this secret; so that men, by accepting their teaching in faith, and by performing certain mysterious acts, might foUow their example, and rise superior to the misfortunes of Hfe now, and at death find salvation from the snares and onslaughts of their "ghostly enemies." There was a great number of mystery rehgions, and the more inteUectual of their adherents pro bably thought that they were all different ways of The Church in the Roman Empire 81 stating the same truths, and of obtaining the same advantages. Moreover all of them were united, to a varying degree, which it is not easy to define precisely, with astral philosophy. Possibly to some minds the mysteries were nothing more than divinely instituted means by which man can more fully and more consciously unite with the purpose and with the very Hfe of God. To such minds the mysteries were not inconsistent with determinism; they were the means of accepting, not of avoiding, Fate. But probably they were a minority: to many minds determinism is an unattractive and even horrible doctrine, and the most attractive appeal which any cult can make is the offer of providing a means of escaping destiny. Thus there were probably many who approached the mysteries in the behef that by linking themselves in this way to a Redeemer-God they would be able to escape the decrees of the Fate which was determined by the stars. It was probably a ques tion of education and surroundings which decided whether an initiate regarded any or aU of these redeemer-gods as identical with the Logos, which was one of the philosophic descriptions of God, or accepted a more definitely separate existence for the gods or heroes of the local mythologies, such as Tammuz, Attis, Isis, Mithras, or Sandan. It 6 82 The Stewardship of Faith will be obvious that there was room for a great number of shades of thought. Moreover though the original and best form of the mysteries was probably in sympathy with the desire of union with the astral powers, and the Destiny of which they were the agents, the longing to escape Fate led to the development of what came to be known as Gnosticism, in which the planets and Destiny were regarded as whoUy evil and hostile to man. Such a theory is obviously reaUy the very reversal of the creed of Seneca: it leaves no room for any world-accepting ethics, and at the same time it is not reaUy aUied to the world-renouncing ethic of Jesus, but is a world-condemning ethic. Pro perly understood the teaching of Jesus never condemns and hates the world, and his ethic can be made complementary to a world-affirming ethic : but that is impossible for the teaching of the Gnostics. This question, however, must be dealt with later, for Gnosticism, in a partiaUy Christian form, was one of the most formidable enemies of the Church in the second century. In whatever form, however, the mysteries found acceptance, they were genuinely rehgious. On the ethical side they were weak, but they strove to attain that experience of union with a higher reahty which is central in rehgion: and with an instinct The Church in the Roman Empire 83 which seems to be universal in humanity they felt that this was effected by means of the common facts of daily life which, to the unseeing eye, are but the processes of generation and birth, eating and drinking, washing and dressing, and, the last act of common Hfe, dying; for to the initiate all became touched with sacramental splendour and eternal significance as the outward visible signs of the progress of a Divine Hfe, which was born again, nourished, cleansed and cared for, and finally passed through the last great mystery to free and untrammeUed expression. The imagery was often confused, but it led in the mysteries to countless combinations of rehgious feasts and of ceremonies in which birth and death were symbohcally represented. Our knowledge of the actual ceremonies and Hturgies is very small, as almost aU documentary evidence has been destroyed, but in a famous papyrus at Paris1 we have a Hturgy which has been copied and used for ¦Supplement gree de la Bibliotheque nationale, No. 574, published by Wessely in the Denkeschriften der K. K. Akademie zu Wien, Philosoph-hist. Classe XXXVI. (1888), p. 56 /., and afterwards edited as Eine Mithras Liturgie, by A. Dieterich with great learning and acumen. The view expressed in his title connecting it with Mithras has not met with universal approba tion, and is rejected by F. Cumont: the point is obscure, and those who find the mysteries at the circumference rather than the centre of their studies will do well to avoid too fixed an opinion. 84 The Stewardship of Faith magical purposes. The Hturgy itself is probably not earlier than the middle of the second century, but it may be used with some reserves to illustrate the point of the mysteries at almost any period. 0 first source of my being1 . . . [says the initiate,] if it indeed be thy good will to grant that I pass, from the nature which now binds me, to the birth of immor tality, that after this present necessity which now presses me down I may enjoy the vision of the im mortal beginning through the immortal spirit . . . that I may be born again in spirit,2 that I may be consecrated, and the Holy Spirit3 may inspire me. . . . The Greek is not easy to translate accurately but it is clear that the general sense is that the initiate is praying for a regeneration to eternal life in a man ner which illustrates and is illustrated by Christian practice. In the same way in the same document the initiate says at the end of the service : O Lord, I have been born again, and depart that I may grow, and having grown I die; through birth that gives life I have been born, and I go to be released in death, as thou hast created, ordained, and instituted the sacrament.4 1 yheais irpi&Tij rrjs ifiijs yeviffeias. ' tva voimaTi. p£Tayevv7idw. 3 wve&a-Q iv i/xol rb lepbv wveSfia. 4 The Greek is so full of playing on the word that it can only be translated very imperfectly: "icipie iriXiv yevbpievos bvaylyvoiuu avt:6/x€vos, Kai aH-qBels TeXeuTiS, itrb yeveaeus fuoybvov yevd/xevos els iiroyevarlav &va\v0els iropeiofuu, iis ail im-uras, us , not tQ vl$). Church and Uninstructed Christianity 173 vulgar Christentum kept a vivid consciousness of the primitive behef of the first Greek Christians that the Lord was the centre of the community, that the Lord was the Spirit, that the Lord was also Jesus, and that they also possessed the Spirit. But it was inevitable that these simple affirmations of the religious consciousness should on closer ex amination be developed into a connected system of theology. Attempts were made on various Hnes, and the ultimate development of Christian theology represents in the main the verdict of the more inteUigent and philosophical theologians upon the one-sided efforts of vulgar Christentum, to cope with the rival, or perhaps more properly comple mentary, claims of historical fact and rehgious experience. In the first place there was the Hne struck out by the Christian who, starting from the identifica tion of the centre of his life with "Christ," and the identification of this Christ with the Jesus of history, under the influence of the conviction that the Lord is the Spirit went on to say that this Jesus, who was the Christ, was also a spiritual being in the time of his human life in the same sense as he is a spiritual being now. That is to say, they threw back the conclusions of religious experience on to the past, and subordinated historical evidence 174 The Stewardship of Faith to their own spiritual experience. The result was the statement that Jesus had never been a man of flesh and blood, because he had always been spirit, and that if he had seemed to be flesh and blood, he was not really so ; he had adopted the form of flesh and blood for the purpose of manifesting himself, but not the reality of it — it was only appearance. It is obvious that this is really the negation of the original position: it destroys the paraUelism between the Christ and the Christian, and it rapidly becomes a Gnostic view of the flesh, though without the Gnostic view of creation. The Acts of John is probably a fair specimen of this "docetic"1 branch of vulgar Christentum. Nevertheless we must, I believe, see in it a sincere attempt to act in the supposed interests of religion. It was an effort to reconstruct history in accordance with religious experience, and it is extraordinarily interesting to notice that the same thing is happen ing at the present day in the movement headed by Professor Drews in Germany and by Professor Smith in America. These scholars have rejoiced in arguments showing that there never was such a person as Jesus of Nazareth, not because they are enemies of religion, but because they think that 1 From SoKetv, to seem, because the humanity of Jesus was only in semblance. Church and Uninstructed Christianity 175 they are doing a service to religion by cutting it loose from history. To a quite extraordinary extent this repeats the history of the second cent ury, and the controversy whether the Jesus whom men knew as the centre of their religion had ever been a real man of flesh and blood. Such was the result of beginning with religious experience, and attempting to make it a substitute for historical evidence. The opposite line of thought was also followed. There were those who felt that their knowledge of facts justified them in the statement that Jesus of Nazareth had really been a man, a human being. They would yield nothing to those who told them that his humanity was in any sense merely apparent. Starting from this they went on to argue that therefore the Christ of religion must possess to aU eternity a body of flesh and blood. He might be in heaven at the right hand of God, but he was, nevertheless, a Jesus with flesh and blood, and it was he, that man of flesh and blood, who was to be accepted as the adequate centre of religion. The basis of the argument was the facts of history. If anyone felt that his religious experience did not agree with it, and urged that the Lord was a Spirit, it only proved that his theology was heretical and his rehgion a vain thing. 176 The Stewardship of Faith These Christians were doing the exact reverse of the docetic wing of vulgar Christentum. They were true to the facts of history, and tried to make religious experience yield to them, by forcibly interpreting it just as their opponents were forcibly interpreting history in mistaken loyalty to the experience of religion. Each was doing the right thing in the wrong place, and it would be weari some to try and follow out the development of the ensuing controversies which, in different forms, went on for centuries, but in the interests of a much- abused class the fact is worth emphasizing that the effort of the theologians — as distinct from the uninstructed Christians — was to do justice to both sides of the question. On the one hand, they tried to do justice to the facts of history by historical methods. Their methods were not ours, and their reconstruction of facts was not the same as ours would be, but they did their best according to the knowledge of those days. They insisted that Jesus of Nazareth had really been human, really flesh and blood, because they had the records, and they judged history by historical methods. On the other hand, they tried to do justice to the facts of religious experience by insisting that the centre of our religious life is spirit, and not flesh and blood. Therefore they tried to settle all the Church and Uninstructed Christianity 177 different forms of this controversy in such a way that, when it was a matter of history, justice should be done to the facts of history, and when it was a matter of rehgion, to the experi ence of religious Hfe. It was impossible to find any single formula which covered the whole case, and practically what happened was that the Church occupied itself for several centuries in saying "No" in various accents of emphasis to inadequate propositions which were presented for the speedy solution of insoluble problems. For instance, an attempt was made to say: "Jesus is God: we know that through religion. He was also man: we know that through history. Therefore, he must have been something between the two, a sort of inferior god, or an exaggerated superman." But the intellect of the Church said that this was neither history nor religion, but a confusion of thought. And Arianism and its successors were never accepted. Or again, it was sometimes said, "Jesus was really two persons. He was a human person and a divine person. " But the intellect of the Church replied that this was also impossible, because personality must be one. And what is known as Nestorianism'was rejected. 1 It is very doubtful whether — to speak paradoxically — Nes- 178 The Stewardship of Faith Thus in the end a series of statements was developed which the scoffer can describe — though very unjustly — as taking away with one hand everything that has been given with the other; and the reason why that way of deahng with the matter is, after all, the most successful, is the fact — so well known to the schoolmen — that all definition is negation. Directly we begin to define anything we imply that it is not something else. Can we do that with God? The difficulty is that we can not say God is everything, and at the same time define him; because, directly we do, we begin to say something which we have at once to unsay, since, in so far as it is a definition, it is also a nega tion, and we must not deny anything of God.' If we apply this a little further to the person of Christ, we see the necessary conclusion. It was necessary to say "man," because of history; and to say "God" because of experience. In so far as Christ was God the epithets of eternal, omni potent, omniscient, everlasting, were inevitable. In so far as he was man they were impossible. And yet no one could say that the human Jesus torius was really a Nestorian; cf. Bethune Baker's Nestorius and his Teaching. 1 Unless we can prove that there is no reality in that which we deny. Church and Uninstructed Christianity 179 was limited, temporary, or imperfect, and the divine Christ eternal, omnipotent, omniscient, everlasting, because, if so, the one personaHty was spht into two. That was also impossible; the facts of history were decisive, Jesus was one person, and not two. Thus it came to pass that when the intellect of the Church finally attempted to sum up the results, it was obliged to say that in the Christ there was a divine nature and a human nature so united in one person that they could not be separated, and yet so that they must on no account be confused. Unless men knew what they meant by it they could scarcely say that Jesus was God, but if they knew they not only could but must say it, for it meant that the union between these two elements, as we should say, or two natures, as the early theo logians said, in the one person was so complete that by a process of mutual exchange (the com- municatio idiomatum) all epithets could be applied to the one nature which were apphcable to the other. It is a maze of theological subtlety which we immediately enter as soon as we begin to express our thoughts along these lines of reasoning; and only those who by the expenditure of much time have learnt to use the language of the first six 180 The Stewardship of Faith centuries can reaUy appreciate how admirable it is. It is not our language. We cannot "talk theo logy" half so well in our language as the Greeks could talk it in theirs sixteen hundred years ago, and the pity is that so many people either pour scorn on these subtle formulae, or apply them mechanicaUy to other problems, without either understanding their origin, or sympathizing with their purpose. I should be the last person in the world to suggest that we can take, for instance, the Athanasian Creed as a representation of modern thought, or correct in its prognosis of damnation for the heterodox, but I am prepared to say that if you can, by study, teach yourself the way to use it, there is no document which more adequately struggles to represent two sides of truth simultaneously than the Athanasian Creed does. I am bound to add that when you have done this you may have reason to object to its use by an ordinary congregation, because it is unedify- ing to see or hear intelligent people reciting in public worship documents which they do not under stand, probably misinterpret, and certainly dislike. Nevertheless the fact that the Athanasian Creed is so unintelligible ought to remind us that we have still to deal with the perpetual struggle Church and Uninstructed Christianity 181 between history and experience. On the one hand rehgion is a matter of personal, intimate experi ence ; its centre is for each of us in our own hearts ; and our own experience is valid for ourselves. It is here, and it is now. Anything which takes away from the full force of that perception is wrong. But, on the other hand, we are the result of a historical process, and are ourselves "historical facts." Even our most intimate experience is conditioned by history, because we ourselves belong to it, and we cannot without harm attempt to sever ourselves from the historical development which has produced us, and which conditions our experience. Therefore we have the same struggle as our spiritual ancestors had. If we wish to be intelligent and intelligible, we cannot state religious experience without taking the facts of history into consideration, and for the religious side of life history means the history of the whole of Chris tianity — not merely of its beginning. We cannot without loss cut ourselves loose from it, and the problem is, to make ourselves the heirs of history without becoming its slaves. But I do not desire to labour that obvious truth so much as to come into closer contact with the problem presented by the doctrine of the "two natures" in Christ. 1 82 The Stewardship of Faith It is perfectly plain that, as it stands at present, this doctrine belongs to a past generation. We can only appreciate it with difficulty, by learning the language in which it is expressed. If we yield to the temptation to put it on one side, we soon find ourselves lapsing into mere hormletic platitude or into some form of vulgar Christentum — in other words, into heresy. It is therefore necessary to grapple with it, and develop it until we bring it once more into touch with the facts of life as we see them. We have, as an intellectual legacy from the past, the doctrine of Jesus as a being, a person, with two natures, human and divine. Leave that on one side and turn to our own self-knowledge. Is it not true that, as a matter of fact, in our own selves there is a double element? It seems to me that aU of us have constantly to deal with two elements in life in ourselves and in other people. There is, on the one hand, the element which makes it ex traordinarily hard for us to understand anybody else ; which makes it extraordinarily hard for any two people to work together without quarrelling; which makes us all have a tendency to quarrel and fight for our own supposed advantages — the fact that we resist it is the essence of civiHzation. This element which limits, which separates, which Church and Uninstructed Christianity 183 drags down, although there are certain objections to the use of the word, may fairly be caUed "hu man, " though the difficulty with all these points is that thought is struggling with language, and language often gets the better of the struggle. Still I think that I run no risk of being misunder stood in saying that this limiting, separating, and dividing element, of which we are aU conscious, is "human" nature in the narrower sense. On the other hand, we are conscious of another element which is unifying, which brings people together, which enables us at times to feel that we are understanding each other in some sense more than the mere intellectual comprehension of care- fuUy chosen phraseology. We are, as we say, "in touch" with one another; we feel that we pass our normal limitations, and that there is a sense in which the truth that we are really aU "one" is greater than the truth that we are all separate, for we are not so much coming together as realizing that on the highest side of life we have never been separated at all. That is the element which is at the centre of all corporate life, and makes for co operation, for unity, for peace, for civilization, and seems to me truly to deserve the name of divine, because nowhere can I see anything higher. 184 The Stewardship of Faith But this is the appHcation to personality1 as a whole of what Cathohc theology — a different thing from vulgar Christentum — said of the one person of Jesus, and though it is possible that the adjectives, human and divine, and the substantives, nature and person, could with advantage be replaced by a different phraseology, it is in this kind of develop ment that Christian theology has the opportunity to keep the historical continuity of a great intel lectual tradition, and at the same time to join hands with modern psychology.2 Moreover, this Hne of thought enables us to see more clearly than any other that progress, not only in thought, but in Hfe as a whole, is the conscious development of the one side and the conscious keeping in check of the other side of personality. That seems to me the inteUectual statement of the real work of life: the conscious effort of the individual and of society to develop 1 If anyone will read, for instance, Dorner's History of the Doctrine of the Person of Christ, he will, I think, probably gain the impression that the real contribution of the classical period of Christian theology was to state the problem: "What is person ality? " and to suggest the lines on which it must be faced. Here again it is, to my mind, the modernist who is really taking his inheritance and trying to develop it. • I may be allowed to say that I believe that this amounts to much the same as Dr. Sanday's position in his Christologies, though it is differently expressed. Church and Uninstructed Christianity 185 the divine element which makes for unity, for peace, for co-operation. Is not this exactly what the best early Christian theology expressed by its Logos doctrine? We must of course allow for the fact that the men of that generation, in theology as in everything else, started with a general hypothesis and worked inwards: we start from the other end and work outwards, as we have learnt to do in every branch of science. The theologian cannot claim any right to make use of a method which has been given up by everyone else. But aUowing for this differ ence of attitude the ' ' Logos doctrine ' ' of the Church and some such analysis of life as that sketched above are reaUy two statements of the same view. This brings me to one of the burning questions of modern theological Christian thought. It is often said that the "Modernist" is undermining or even denying the central doctrine of the divinity of Christ, and the answer to this accusation is closely connected with the general subject of this chapter. The "Modernist" believes that he is the true heir of the Cathohc theology, while his opponents seem to him to represent a recrudescence of some of the one-sided and inteUectually inde fensible positions of vulgar Christentum. The doctrine of the "two natures" and the 1 86 The Stewardship of Faith Johannine Logos doctrine of which it is the logical conclusion are the expression of the view which, if we accept certain metaphysical forms of state ment, may reasonably be taken of a certain com plex of facts belonging partly to history, partly to religious experience. Although subject on the one hand to development, so far as it deals only with the life of Jesus, and says nothing about other "persons," and, on the other, to amendment so far as the historical facts dealt with obtain a different complexion in the Hght of wider know ledge and deeper study, it remains one of the triumphs of human intellect, and the Modernist has not the slightest hesitation in accepting it. But it seems to him that the doctrines often pre sented to him by those who think that they are orthodox are something quite different. Men have forgotten or put on one side as unintelligible the Catholic theology, and have set up a rival which puts "the historic Jesus" in the place of the Logos. It is historically inaccurate and spirituaUy unsatisfying. It is the sort of theology which sings sentimental hymns about, Those mighty hands which rule the sky no earthly toU refuse, The Maker of the stars on high an humble trade pursues. Church and Uninstructed Christianity 187 That is language which the extremest extension of the doctrine of the communicatio idiomatum could scarcely justify, and as most of those using it are wholly ignorant of that profound and subtle dogma it is in their mouths the merest recrudescence of the Jesus-cultus of vulgar Christentum. The Modernist worships the Logos : not because of any ecclesiastical authority, but because heart and mind agree to teU him that this is the way of truth in which his fathers walked. He is not prepared to narrow down his perception of the Logos, or (to use more theological language) to sacrifice his recognition of the divine working of the Logos in all time and in all life in order to obtain a spurious heightening of contrast for the recogni tion which he gives to the Logos in Jesus. Moreover, personally — I do not dare speak for all Modernists — I feel that these admirable and penetrating doctrines"of Cathohc theology are not intelhgible to ordinary congregations. I know that I cannot state them equally weU in any other language. But I also know that in this language, however admirable, they are not intelhgible to most people, because the technical terms are un known to them, or, still worse, have popularly a different meaning. Therefore I prefer to restate these truths in modern language, by which I mean 1 88 The Stewardship of Faith in a different phraseology, and I dissent whoUy from those who try to achieve what they caU restatement by using the old phraseology in a new sense. The Catholic theology is magnificent: but it is not inteUigible except to properly trained theological intellects. My wish is to make the view of life which it represents intelligible by put ting it into modern language, nor do I find this an impossible task, but I admire the language of the old theologians too much not to protest against attempts to mutilate it or to pretend that it speaks in our phraseology. Some of the ostensible defenders of Christian theology understand neither its history nor its meaning, and the parody which they present is the greatest inteUectual danger which Christianity has now to face. CHAPTER VIII CONCLUSION Christianity as Movement — Modern Requirements — Justice — The Atonement — Suffering — The Observation of Religious Facts — Its Effect — The Churches and Research in Theo logy — The Training of the Clergy — The Churches and Schism — The Theory of Ordination — The Social Revolution — The Need of a Higher Ethical Vision. IN the preceding chapters I have endeavoured to sketch the developments of the heritage handed down to us from the Early Church in the form of theology, ethics, and ministry. But far more important than to trace the process described in its details, many of which are certainly obscure and possibly capable of other interpre tation in the hght of increasing knowledge, is the recognition that progressive movement, and not the retention of a fixed position, has throughout been the condition of vigorous life. By fulfiUing that condition the Early Church succeeded in giving to the world a theology which satisfied the necessity of speaking in a language intelligible to that generation. It was no more 189 190 The Stewardship of Faith final than any attempt of the finite to explain the infinite can ever be. But it was an adequate representation of the reaction of the highest spiritual Hfe upon the keenest inteUects of their time. In the same way the Church produced a system of sacraments and a ministry to which we cannot refuse the praise of having built up the spiritual life of Western civiHzation, even though we may recognize that the theory based upon them was often erroneous, and that in the end the abuse of the system was often disastrous. SimUarly also it provided a combination of world-renouncing and world-accepting ethics which for generations proved a satisfactory guide to the efforts of the best men to serve the society to which they belonged without forgetting that higher world of eternal realities of which aU enjoy a vision at times, though none see it permanently or with a steady gaze. To do these things was the heritage, with modifi cations, but not essentiaUy changed, passed on from the single Catholic Church of the Middle Ages to the many Churches of modern Christian ity. It is now presented for our acceptance. In this last chapter, therefore, I desire to emphasize what seem to me to be the conditions which we Conclusion 191 must fulfil if we wish to discharge the stewardship offered to us. Christianity has always been a movement: the stewardship of faith is to carry on the movement. We must continue the same process of changing theology and changing institutional life which is revealed to us by the study of history. To aU sides of the problems raised by the recognition of this fact, no man can give an adequate answer; but no man who Hves in any degree in the present, and sees the events which are changing the conditions of human life, ought to faU to see that these are facts which organized Christianity must take more seriously than it seems to do at present. These may conveniently be treated under the heads of theology, the ministry of the Church, and the extension of Christian ethics. A theologian may perhaps be forgiven if he begin with the duty of the churches toward theo logy, even though he would be the last to claim that this is the most important point. There is a general consensus, even amongst the most con servative, that "restatement" is imperatively called for, but it is of primary importance to recog nize that what the churches are asked to produce is not a restatement of traditional theology but a 192 The Stewardship of Faith restatement of rehgion in modern language. A more or less ingenious amendment of mediaeval theological statement wiU satisfy no one, for the artificial admixture of modern thought and ancient language produces something as remote from an articulate and inteUigent theology as "pidgin" English is from the language of educated Enghsh- men. In the preceding chapters I have attempted to explain, in modern language, some of the features of religious life both among the early Christians and in our own generation; but no one can at present hope adequately to cover the whole ground. More important than attempts to bmld without' sufficient material is the effort to realize some of the conditions of modern thought which must be considered if we wish to produce a state ment of religion which wiU help the next genera tion. In the first place we have a different sense of abstract justice from that which existed even a century ago. This cuts at the root of many theo logical statements which presented little difficulty to our ancestors. For instance, the theology of the past offered little or no hope for the' salvation of an unbaptized person, however good a life he may have led; even Conclusion 193 the fate of unbaptized infants was regarded as doubtful. At present it is safe to say that no one who maintains such monstrous propositions wiU even gain a hearing from the general pubhc. Yet that is not because the old view misrepresented the logical results of the traditional theological system, but because the increased sense of abstract justice puts such teaching out of court, and re gards it as the reductio ad absurdum of the theory from which it was deduced. Or, again, the traditional presentation of the doctrine of the Atonement is becoming daily less and less acceptable to our generation because it clashes with our sense of justice. It seems to represent the suffering of Jesus as a unique in stance of the redemptive power of innocent suffer ing, to depict God as in some sense standing outside this process, accepting it as an offering to himself, and in some way changing his attitude to the guilty in consequence of it.' If I am not much mistaken, the clash between this teaching and the sense of justice was one of the causes which led the "Lux Mundi" school of theologians ¦ Theologians have, of course, from the time of Anselm, felt the difficulty of the position, but they have never wholly succeeded in meeting it. The important thing, however, is that the non- theological but educated public is now aroused to a consciousness of the problem. 13 194 The Stewardship of Faith in Oxford in the nineties to say in their general teaching so much about the Incarnation and so Httle about the Atonement. Yet here again the policy of leaving difficulties on one side wiU not long be successful. Behind the doctrine of the Atonement is the problem of innocent suffering in general. No view of Hfe is complete which does not recognize that progress is conditional on suffering, and that this suffering is effective in proportion as it is the suffering of .the innocent.1 Moreover, we are obhged to go further and say that the only thinkable belief is not that God stands outside the world and wiUs it to endure suffering, but that he, as immanent in it, shares in its travafi, which he wiUs for himself as weU as for us. The modern theologian feels that this is the fundamental truth of the doctrine of the Atonement: it is the eternal suffering of the Logos which redeems and raises the Universe. Why suffering should in this way be essential to life we do not know: but whereas the figure of the suffering God in a suffering world may prove — I think wiU prove — to be irrecondlable with the traditional con ception of omnipotence,2 it does not outrage the 1 Though the innocent cannot voluntarily seek it, but only benefit the world by accepting the cup which is given them to drink in the course of their appointed career. - I mean that instead of regarding God as a being who has Conclusion 195 sense of justice. More and more men accept the suffering of the innocent as one of the facts of Hfe, but they do so only if it be presented to them as the birth pains of some better thing, not as the torturing punishment inflicted by a judge. The doctrine of the Atonement, like that of the Incar nation of the Logos, has its permanent place in human thought, but the churches wiU retain the privilege of being its exponents only if they prove equal to the task of beginning its explanation with the facts of living experience, and place the suffer ing of Jesus within and not without the ever- widening circle of suffering yet redeeming and triumphant Hfe. If the churches prove unequal to their task, and sacrifice the truth of experience to the tradition of expression, the world wiU pass them by and Hsten by preference to men and societies who are more alive to the necessities of the present. It wiU also be necessary to accept much more definitely the fact that all modern scientific study begins with the observation of fact and not with the development of theory. In the Middle Ages unlimited power to do anything in an arbitrary and miraculously unconditional manner, we shall regard him as the repository of "all the power that there is, " and look on him as "able to do all things which can be done. " But I think that some Liberals need to remember that this is not what omnipotence originally meant. 196 The Stewardship of Faith theory came first and facts were quoted to prove the correctness of accepted theory. That is no doubt a branch of work which has its value, but we have learnt that it is far more important to observe facts and to modify theories in accordance with them. In the field of theology this was done by WiUiam James, who was a pioneer in this direction, and though there may be some doubt as to whether he applied his method in the best way, there can be none as to the value of the method itself. Unfor tunately the theologian, especially in England, is too often primarily a historian father than a stu dent of Hving religion, and I can certainly make no claim to be an exception, but I would suggest that the treatment of Christology on pp. 181 ff. is a conscious attempt to adopt the appHcation of the modern method of beginning with the facts of observed rehgion, and of working back from them to the appreciation of sirrular facts in history. This method wiU mean that in the future theo logians wiU give up trying to compress the truth into short statements and claiming them as authoritative. Theology can no more be stated shortly than any other science, and no statement has any authority unless it can be shown to be true. No one thinks of testing the correctness of a great Conclusion 197 chemist's view by his acceptance of a short state ment, or of attaching authority to his opinion apart from evidence. In the future it wiU seem equaUy absurd to ask men to accept or reject statements which profess to give short categorical solutions to some of the most difficult problems of philosophy and theology, and from their answers to pass judgment alike on their theological and religious standing. Theological statement wiU before long be accepted exactly so far as it is based on evidence, just as is the case with any other science, otherwise it wiU be regarded as superstition. Moreover, it wiU make no claim to special sources of knowledge once revealed and now hidden, for whereas the theological systems of the past were based on a triumphant but unfounded belief in supernatural knowledge, the systems of tomorrow wiU be bounded, like those of other sciences, by the securer though humbler recognition of natural ignorance. We believe that we can see that life is governed by purpose, and to that purpose we endeavour to make our own wills subordinate; but we are conscious that its fullness, its origin, and its end are outside the scope of our understanding. We are therefore not prepared to make the value of religion, which is our present possession, depend ent on the correctness of our guesses at things 198 The Stewardship of Faith outside the limitations of our knowledge. We cannot whoUy explain the Universe, and we are weary of attempts to cover up the insufficiency of the inteUect by a superabundance of words. We know that we are limited in our powers and narrow in our vision, but we seek in our better moments to develop that element in our personaHty which binds us to others and makes us work for the general common good of all, even to the sacrifice of ourselves. We know that we develop this element, partly in our private life in which we stretch out our hands to that power in the universe which seems to be to us what we would fain be to our children, and partly in the corporate life in which we meet together with others. It is this side of life, and aU that we gain from it, that we mean by religion; we know that in it we some times seem to approach more nearly than in any other way to reahty, and to see through the vefi of phenomena. The experience of it is the basis of religious Hfe, and membership in the churches ought to depend on its possession. The theologian endeavours to make it articulate and to trace its history, but to do so is a progressive science, and the churches wiU not long retain the respect of the educated world if they prefer to take their stand on the theology of an age which has passed away. Conclusion 199 It is this attitude to theology which wiU in the end decide the vexed question of the creeds. The allegorical and symbolical explanations which proved fatal to heathenism (see pp. I29ff.) are being applied far too much to the creeds. In itself this is no more likely to be successful than it was in heathenism, and the ecclesiastical theologian fails to notice that interpretation is not the battle field on which the question of the creeds is going to be fought out, unless indeed it is to become merely a squabble between the few survivors from the wreck of great institutions. What men feel is that if the Church is a society for the maintenance of a close and defined system of theology it has no message for them, and has as little claim to be taken seriously as a society of chemists which should take for its purpose not the discovery and propagation of chemical truth, but the preserva tion of the scientific theories of the Middle Ages. The laity cling to the churches because they believe that they are not intended primarily to perpetuate theological opinion, but to develop and organize religious life, and the time is rapidly approaching when the educated classes will feel and say openly that it is as absurd to tie down theological science — that is, the intellectual ex pression of religion — to a few formularies as it 200 The Stewardship of Faith would be to impose the same bondage on other sciences. What is required from theology is that it should be so far as is possible true and logical. Argument, not tradition, wUl say the last word. Part of the heritage from the Early Church is that it has shown the possibility of an inteUigent theo logy which shall grow and develop in accordance with the increase of knowledge, and the deepening of perception. The men of today are essentiaUy rehgious, but they ask also for an intelligible theo logy. The development of such a theology is being carried on at present in all the civilized countries of the world by men who are devoting their lives to this object. In the main they aU are working on the same general lines, though there are startling differences in detail, and they are, with few ex ceptions, profoundly religious men. They have been born and brought up in the various churches of Christendom, and they desire intensely to keep their inheritance. It is in no spirit of arrogant self-assertion, but in the faith that their careers have been guided by a higher power, which has made use of their industry and scientific training to lead the world to some deeper knowledge of the truth, that they grieve over the reluctance of the churches to hear their message. The world is Conclusion 201 listening to them: the popular lecture room, the pubhc press, the great universities are theirs, but to many of them it seems that the great historic communities to which they belong are turning a deaf ear to messages which others accept, and are refusing the offices of men who have the desire and the abiHty to serve them weU. "Lo! we turn to the Gentiles" is a simple phrase, but there never yet was an Israelite who uttered it without yearn ing in his heart for the people of the promise. The sacramental ministry of the Church remains in the churches of modern Christianity, though it is in some of the Protestant communities changed almost out of recognition. On pp. 137 ff., I have emphasized my conviction that the sacramental side of rehgious Hfe is permanent, and that a minis try for the care of souls is an essential part of organized Christianity. But Christianity cannot adequately live up to this side of its stewardship if it do not fulfil two requirements. The first is easier to state than to perform: the education of ministers in Christian churches must be reformed so that candidates for the ministry shaU be trained primarily in the facts of spiritual life, in health and in sickness, and only secondarily in the history of the religious life of the past. 202 The Stewardship of Faith Only those who are actively engaged in teaching understand how necessary this is, and how many practical difficulties must be overcome. EquaUy important, more controversial, and caU- ing for much mutual forbearance is the second re quirement. Christianity has to face and accept the fact that it is no longer a church but a coUec- tion of churches. It is impossible to undo what has been done; not only has Catholic Christianity itself divided into more than one branch, but also there is alongside of it a whole series of Protestant churches, in some ways more, in some ways less, efficient than the older societies, with a spiritual life as deep and true as that of Cathohcs, though otherwise fostered and differently expressed. Much harm has been done in this connection by the use of the word schism. Schism is a meta phorical expression derived primarily from tear ing a garment. Now undoubtedly the tearing of garments is undesirable under all circumstances; a torn garment is an injured garment, and the piece torn out is a piece of rag and not a garment. But after aU Christianity is not a garment — dead and inorganic — but a living organism. The appH cation to living things of metaphors drawn from the inorganic world is sure to be imperfect. Much would therefore be gained if Christians would Conclusion 203 remember that in the world of living organisms, schism or scission is the recognized means of perpetuating life. Cells split into two, in the lowest forms of natural life, without effort or pain, but in the higher forms the process of spHtting off a new group of cells, and so producing a new living being, is often attended by effort, danger, and pain. StiU, we do not therefore look on it as evil. Life, according to the biologist, depends on what he caUs scission, and ordinary people caU birth. Civilized life, according to the sociologist, de pends on the recognition and sustenance of new Hves, not in getting rid of them, either by exter mination, or by an unthinkable process of re- absorption. Surely it would be better if we were to change the implications of the metaphor, and see that the schism which led to the creation of the various Protestant churches is the birth of new organisms, and that the task of the future is not reunion, but recognition and co-operation. Each of us belongs to his church as he does to his own family; we would not change even if we could, but exclusiveness and pride is as unpleasant and fool ish in a church as it is in a family. It is of course true that this change of attitude wiU call for the abandonment of many long-cher ished illusions, especially from churches with the 204 The Stewardship of Faith Cathohc tradition of episcopacy. It is essential that the theory of a divinely estabhshed episcopal order should be frankly abandoned, except in the sense that the powers that be are ordained of God. "Orders" are necessary to "order," and order is necessary to life, but neither "orders" nor " order " is the source of life. They come from it, and do not impart it. Ordination ought to be the recognition of "gifts" — charismata — and of power, but it cannot confer them when they are absent. It is the practice in many circles to dis cuss this question on the basis of historical evi dence and biblical or patristic quotations: I do not propose to follow this method because it is not really germane to the question. The point at issue is whether episcopally ordained clergy have spiritual powers other than those possessed by the ministers of Protestant churches or by laity who have never been ordained at all, not what past generations may have thought about the matter. I believe that the modern man has as a rule made up his mind by observation that on the one hand thereare manynon-episcopal clergy who constantly further the cause of Christianity by word and deed, and really are pastors of the flock and physicians to the sick, while on the other there are some episcopal clergy who, in spite of their ordination, Conclusion 205 are obviously lacking in these gifts. Therefore he concludes that ordination cannot confer gifts, and though he values it he does so only as the official sanction, necessary to all order and dis cipline, to certain gifted persons to exercise a ministry which, since it has been given them from above, ecclesiastical authority can neither give nor take away, but only recognize. Nevertheless, although the Catholic, whether Greek, Roman or Anglican, has much to concede to the Protestant churches before co-operation can reaUy be effective, the Protestant churches have also something to learn from the Catholic. It is true that the "gifts" of the true minister of the Church — the pastoral instinct, the power of sym pathizing with and helping the outcast, and of inteUigible preaching or teaching — are not con veyed by ordination, but a church is something more than the sum of its members, and the office of being its appointed agent is in itself a gift which is reaUy conveyed by the Church and carries with it power and authority. The Catholic has over estimated this truth, and has often confused it with the individual gifts of the spirit, but the Protestant has often underestimated or ignored it. At the same time this does not alter the fact that the main issue is the power of ordination to 206 The Stewardship of Faith convey "gifts," and that here the Protestant is right and the Cathohc is wrong. More obscure, more difficult, and yet, if I be not greatly mistaken, even more important than the intellectual problems of theology, or the partly intellectual, partly practical, problems of the min istry, is the question of ethics. The ethical problem of the Church in the Roman Empire was to raise the standard of individual life, and it succeeded in doing so. No one would maintain that the necessity of raising the standard of individual life is now past, but this ought not to obscure the fact that at present the world is looking rather for something to raise the standard of social and national life. It is a platitude to say that we are living in a period of rapid social change; but it may be doubted whether it is equally weU recognized that this rapid social change is bringing with it the necessity for a widening of ethical theory to cover the new complexities of life. The facts as they appear to the ordinary ob server are that modern commercial methods have produced at one end of the social scale enormous wealth, and a power for good and evil concentrated in the hands of a few men such as no previous Conclusion 207 epoch has known. But at the other end of the scale even if distress and poverty have not actually increased, the perception of them has become more acute and has been greatly stimulated by the wider outlook and enlarged powers of imagination conferred by the extension of education, so that general discontent is rapidly increasing. Pro bably a majority of men would welcome a radical change, but is held back by not unreasonable fear lest its consequences should be worse than existing evils. The cause of the trouble is partly economic, but partly ethical. The ruthlessness of some commer cial methods seems to be quite as opposed to a high ethical standard as any caused by rmlitary opera tions, and it is felt that new ethical standards must be introduced into public life if it is to be saved from disaster. Unfortunately to many, especiaUy in the working-classes, it appears that the organized churches of Christendom are con tent with preaching submission to the poor and philanthropy to the rich, emphasizing the virtue of spending money properly instead of rather calling attention to the duty of not earning it dubiously. The quarrel of the working-classes with the churches is therefore ethical rather than theologi cal. For that reason more and more of them 208 The Stewardship of Faith are turning towards the teaching of that whole complex' of social and ethical propaganda of which socialism is the most prominent. Whether socialism as an economic system be right or wrong I do not know; but it is plain that the reason why it appeals to so many people is not that they understand economic science, but that they think that they have found in it an organi zation which vigorously protests against the evUs of the present day (whereas the churches only offer paUiatives), and holds up before men's eyes an ideal of life, and a vision of society raised to a higher plane. It is asking men to believe in the coming of a New Age which wiU be enjoyed by a better human nature, and to prepare themselves for it. The parallelism between the present position of socialism, with its allied methods of thought, and early Christianity is extraordinary and very disquieting. In both cases you have a body of men asserting in a perhaps somewhat irritating manner their aloofness from the estabUshed order ' I mean the whole group of -isms and anti-s which attract those who are discontented with things as they are. The histor ian of the future will quite possibly compare them with the "God- fearers" of the Roman Empire, and point out that although they lacked the elements of stability and permanence they were the raw material out of which new systems of greater strength were built up. Conclusion 209 of society; in both cases you have a body of men prophesying that society is doomed to come down with a crash and that a New Age is at hand which they and the outcasts of the existing system will inherit; in both cases you find this body of men attacked as irreligious, unpatriotic, and deluded. That is the parallelism. How much further will it go? The future is unknown to us, but we can sometimes use the past as a mirror in which to study its advance. In the days of the Roman Empire the crash did come and a new age did dawn, but it was not the sort of new age which the Christians had foreseen. It was instead the Dark Ages; and this was partly because there was an element of truth in the accusations brought against the Christians, that they were neglecting things essential to the wel fare of organized society, and partly because the inteUectual and cultured classes of that day lacked the faith and courage to lead the way to a new world, but kept turning regretful backward glances to the old order which was passing away. The New Age was dark because it lacked the prestige, power, and tradition of government which the richer classes of the Empire had possessed, and its leadership passed to the Christian Church because, although it lacked these things, it had a clearer 210 The Stewardship of Faith vision of a higher life, and the faith to foUow its guidance through the darkness. Moreover, recent events in Europe have shown how important it is to extend the influence of Christian ethics to international Hfe, and to recover the concept — well known to the Church of the Middle Ages — of a community of life on its highest plane binding together men of different blood, and providing the nations with a "common supe rior" to whom they could yield obedience without degradation, and submit their disputes without dishonour. Christianity was once above nation ality; and the present evils are largely due to a perverted nationalism which leads men to act and think as though it were the highest possible form of life, and as though Christian ethics could not apply to it. When the men of the last century come to stand before the bar of history two classes wiU be especi aUy prominent. On the one hand there wUl be the men of science, who have extended the bound aries of knowledge with an unequaUed rapidity. They have often rejected the name of Christian because they have been unable to accept the traditional Weltanschauung of the past ; but they have followed closely the ideal of Christian ethics. As a class they have been marked by a passion for Conclusion 211 truth, and by wiUingness to help even at their own expense aU animated by the same desire. They have constantly sacrificed themselves to the good of others, and have pursued controversy to estab lish fact rather than to secure personal triumph. On the other hand there wiU be the class of those who have guided the international and national politics of Europe. With few exceptions they have kept the name of Christian, but their conduct has been a cynical denial of Christian ethics. Their skill has been to use language which should deceive though it did not break the formal limits of truth. They have obtained power for themselves at the expense of others, and they have abused the opportunities of controversy to obscure the real issues. They have held up opponents to hatred and contempt, as weU in national as in inter national Hfe, and in the end they have subjected to the horrors of war the countries which they pro fessed to guide. Can it be doubted what the verdict of history will be on these two classes? and is it not the tragedy of Christian history that the organized churches have aUowed Welt anschauung to count for more than ethics? The one thing which seems certain today is that society as we have known it is drawing to an end. Our children wiU inherit a New Age; wiU it 212 The Stewardship of Faith be an age of light or of darkness? If it is to be an age of Hght there will be required from its spiritual rulers the establishment of some common superior of nations to safeguard the development and legitimate expansion of each against the oppression or envy of any, and a new extension of Christian ethics to raise the standard of social and national life. Will the churches give this? Can anyone else? It is the doubt expressed in these questions which brings to the study of history at the present moment so deep a sense of the shadow of evil days to come, and lays on us the respon sibility of warning those who at present enjoy the heritage of Christianity how great is the task before them, and how serious is the necessity for faith in the guidance of life, for the love of truth in study, and for courage in utterance to the people. APPENDIX THE EARLY CHRISTIAN TREATMENT OF SIN AFTER BAPTISM1 The primitive view of Gentile Christianity was that those who were baptized were free from sin. They had been born again into a state of sinlessness, * and it was their duty to see that they never relapsed again into the dangerous state which they had left; if they should fail in this duty, it was questionable whether they had any further chance of salvation. The best-known statement of this doctrine is in the Epistle to the Hebrews, apparently written at a time when the doctrine had become a matter of dispute, and needed clear enunciation. It is especially plain in two passages: (a) in Hebrews vi., 4-8, "For as touching those who were once enlightened, and tasted of the heavenly gift, and were made partakers of the Holy Spirit, and tasted the good Word of God, and the Powers of the Age to come, and then fell away, it is impossible to renew them again unto repentance;" (6) in Hebrews x., 26, " For if we sin wilfully after that we have received the knowledge of the truth, there remaineth no more a sacrifice for sins, but a certain ¦ This discussion, with a few changes, was originally pub lished in the Expositor. 1 Sinlessness is a somewhat ambiguous term; it is here used as the equivalent of posse non peccare, not of non posse peccare. 213 214 The Stewardship of Faith fearful expectation of judgment, and a fierceness of fire which shaU devour the adversaries. " These passages clearly imply the normal sinlessness of Christians, and exclude the possibihty of forgive ness for wilful sin after baptism. Nor is there any reason for rejecting the unanimous tradition of early Christian exegesis which explains "enfightened" ((pwtiaOlvTa?) in vi., 4, as a reference to baptism, especially when it is remembered that Justin Martyr1 mentions that pamtO^wu, oBtoi rb BiSbmi ir\ela /Soirrfe/wtTO iSoryiiAruTev. 222 The Stewardship of Faith their hves, and inasmuch as this change was held to be the passing from a state of sin to a state of righteous ness, it was easy to identify baptism and the forgive ness of sins. But though one may use the same word — sin — to describe both evil deeds and the state of unhappiness of the "twice-born" before they find peace, it is quite certain that this is a confusion of thought, and it is similarly certain that the sin forgiven, or got rid of, by the first baptism was as a rule sin in the latter sense, while the sin which gave rise to the problem of sin after baptism was sin in the former sense. There was therefore a real psychological and ex periential difference between the two cases. It was a confusion of thought which led men to argue that what baptism had done once it can do again; and although the Cathohc was quite as confused inteUectuaUy on this point as was the heretic, his instinct — based on experience, not on logic — was more correct, and made him distinguish the "forgiveness of sins" obtained in baptism as something which could not be given twice — at least not by the same means. StiU, the rejection of rebaptism was no solution of the practical problem. Perhaps the earliest of the other attempts of which we have clear evidence is presented by the famous verse in i John v., 16/., "If any man see his brother sinning sin1 not unto death, he shall ask, and he (i.e., the Son of God) wiU give him life for them that sin not unto death : there is sin unto death, not concerning this do I say that he should 1 The R.V. puts this translation of ipaprla into the margin, and a sin into the text; but it is difficult, to see any valid reason for doing so. Sin after Baptism 223 make request. AU unrighteousness is sin, and there is sin not unto death. " The doctrine implied here is that there is a quahta- tive distinction between different kinds of sin. Some are deadly — the teaching which the Epistle to the Hebrews seems to hold as applying to aU sin — and others are not. These last can obtain forgiveness through prayer, and through the intercession of Christ. "My little children, I write these things to you that ye sin not" — sinlessness is thus the ideal and normal position which the writer hopes for — "and if any one sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous. " Here we get two important developments of doc trine: first, the distinction between mortal and venial sin, and secondly, the attribution to Christ not only of the function, which was originaUy that of the Messiah, of cleansing from sin and admitting those who had thus been made pure into his kingdom of sinless saints, but of the perpetual cleansing and inter ceding for the members of his Church. The changed point of view with regard to the nature of Christians necessitated a corresponding change with regard to the functions of the Christ. Over against this qualitative distinction between deadly and venial as a basis for the solution of the practical problem of sin after baptism, we find an independent attempt in what may be called a quantita tive manner. It wiU be remembered that Marcion, though admitting the principle of rebaptism, imposed a limit on the number of times that this might take place. As compared with the method suggested in I John, this may fairly be caUed a quantitative Hmit to forgivable sin, and from the "Shepherd" of Hennas 224 The Stewardship of Faith we find that in the Church at Rome, although Mar- cion's doctrine of rebaptism was rejected, the quanti tative system was introduced, probably even before the coming of Marcion, in order to deal with the prac tical difficulty of sin among baptized Christians. Hermas discusses the matter in the third chapter of the fourth Mandate. "I wiU venture," he says, "to ask one thing more. ... I have heard from certain teachers that there is no further repentance beyond that, when we went down into the water, and received remission (Sufeaiv) of our former sins. " It is clear that, even if this be not a direct aUusion to the Epistle to the Hebrews, which, as I Clement shows, was early known in Rome, it is at least a reference to the same stern attitude towards sin after baptism which that Epistle represents. To this the angel replied, "Yes, that is so; for he who has received remission of sins must not sin again, but live in purity (&tvel