¦ ' . >YAILIE'¥]MII¥EI&SflW« DIVINITY SCHOOL TROWBRIDGE LIBRARY GIFT OF Library of The Her. Clifton H. Brewer JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION -jW^e- JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION AN EXAMINATION OF THE TEACHING OF JESUS IN ITS RELATION TO SOME OF THE PROBLEMS OF MODERN SOCIAL LIFE BY FRANCIS GREENWOOD PEABODY FLUMMER PROFESSOR OF CHRISTIAN MORALS IN HARVARD UNIVERSITY ^ary oift£^ l» Haven, C?# Nrfn fforfe THE MACMILLAN COMPANY LONDON : MACMILLAN & CO., LTD. igoi AU rights reserved Copyright, 1900, By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. Set up and electrotyped November, 1900. Reprinted March, 1901; April, 1901 ; August, 1901. NotiDaorj Iprcss J. S. Cuahing & Co. — Berwick & Smith Norwood Mass. U.S.A. THROUGH SUNNY DAYS AND ON THROUGH STORMY WEATHER, YET EVER HAND IN HAND, BELOVED WIFE, WE TWO HAVE WALKED OUR QUIET WAY TOGETHER ALONG THE DUSTY ROAD OF COMMON LIFE. BRIGHT WERE THE VISTAS ON OUR JOURNEY SEEN, AND DARK THE VALLEYS OF THE SHADOW LAY, BUT YOUR DEAR LOVE, LIKE ISRAEL'S GOD, HAS BEEN MY LIGHT IN DARKNESS AND MY SHADE BY DAY. I CANNOT GIVE YOU WHAT A SCHOLAR OUGHT, LEARNING OR WIT OR INSIGHT FOR THE TRUE; I BUT TRANSCRIBE WHAT YOU HAVE DAILY TAUGHT, — THE SPIRIT OF THE MASTER SEEN IN YOU. CONTENTS CHAPTER I PAGE The Comprehensiveness of the Teaching of Jesus . i CHAPTER II The Social Principles of the Teaching of Jesus . 76 CHAPTER III The Teaching of Jesus concerning the Family . . 129 CHAPTER IV The Teaching of Jesus concerning the Rich . .183 CHAPTER V The Teaching of Jesus concerning the Care of the Poor . ¦ 226 CHAPTER VI The Teaching of Jesus concerning the Industrial Order 267 CHAPTER VII The Correlation of the Social Qjkstions . . 327 vii JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION CHAPTER I THE COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING OF JESUS Wgt life bras tije ligljt of mm. There are many periods in history which, as one looks back on them, seem marked by distinct and central problems or achievements, as if to each such time there had been committed a special work to do. Their characteristics stand out clearly against the past, as a distant range of mountains stands out against an evening sky. We speak with confidence of the mission of Greece to civilization, of the place of Rome in history, of the vocation of the Hebrews, of the period of the Reformation, of the epoch of Napoleon. By one lesson at a time, — through types of beauty or strength or righteousness, through instructions in intellectual liberty, or warnings of the lust for power, — the Master of the ages seems to have directed the education of the human race. Sometimes this mission of an age or race is recognized by those who are 2 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION fulfilling it; sometimes it is discerned when one stands at a distance, where the crowded details of life melt into a general view. The Hebrews, on the one hand, were sustained throughout their history by the conviction of their sacred and special calling, and that conviction gave to their career its sombre, strenuous, self-examin ing character; in Greek life, on the other hand, it was the very unconsciousness of a didactic mission which made possible the prevailing serenity and charm. If Greek art had stood consciously before the glass of the future, it might have been the teacher, but could not have been the joy, of the world. The present age belongs, without question, to the former class. There is not only given to it a mission, but there is added a distinct conscious ness of that mission. We do not have to wait for the philosophical historian of some remote future to discern the characteristic problem of the present time. Behind all the extraordinary achievements of modern civilization, its transfor mations of business methods, its miracles of scien tific discovery, its mighty combinations of political forces, there lies at the heart of the present time a burdening sense of social mal-adjustment which creates what we call the social ques tion. "The social question," remarks Professor Wagner, " comes of the consciousness of a con tradiction between economic development and the social ideal of liberty and equality which is COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 3 being realized in political life." 1 This is what gives its fundamental character to the present age. The consciousness of contradiction between eco nomic progress and spiritual ideals.jiiay_.use thg language of social philosophy, or_may take, the form of social service, or may be organized in social legislation, or may simply utter itself in the passionate cry of indignation or hate which comes from the hungry or despairing, or from those who sympathize with them. In all these varied, and often unreasonable or extravagant, ways the c.har.- acteristic emotion of the time expressesjiself. Jt_ isthe age oL_the. social question. Never were so many people, learned and ignorant, rich and poor, philosophers and agitators, men and women, so stirred by this recognition of inequality in social opportunity, by the call to social service, by dreams of a better social world. There is, of course, a huge, inert mass of unob servant humanity, with no perception of this new region of hope and faith into which the present generation is entering. These persons live their lives of business or of pleasure, as Jesus, with splendid satire, said of such persons in his own age, with just enough power of observation to tell the signs of to-morrow's weather, but without the 1 A. Wagner, " Lehrbuch der politischen Oekonomie," 2. Aufl., 1876, s. 36. So also Bebel, " Die Frau und der Sozialismus," 10. Aufl., 1891, s. 240: " Society, in its form of wealth, has grown far more aristocratic than in any earlier age, ... in its ideals and its legislation it has grown far more democratic." 4 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION capacity to discern the signs of their own times.1 No one, however, who lifts his eyes from his own private life can mistake these signs of the times. The literature of the present age is saturated with the desire for social amelioration or social revo lution; workmen with grimy hands and women with eager eyes are turning the pages of the economists in search of practical guidance ; social panaceas are confidently offered on every hand ; organization on an unprecedented scale is con solidating the fighting force of the hand-working class ; legislation is freely advocated which prac tically revolutionizes the earlier conception of the function of government ; and, finally, the party of revolution, with its millions of voters in European countries, officially announces that all other issues are to be subordinated to the social question, and that all other parties are to be regarded as "a mere reactionary mass."2 It is the age of the social question; and to pretend that social life is undisturbed, or is but superficially agitated, is sim ply to confess that one has been caught in an eddy of the age and does not feel the sweep of its main current. It is, however, not enough to say that among human interests the social question is just now 1 Matt. xvi. 2, 3; Luke xii. 54-56. 2 " Die Befreiung der Arbeit muss das Werk der Arbeiterklasse sein, der gegenviber alle anderen Klassen nur eine reaktionare Masse sind," Programm der sozialdemokratischen Partei Deutschlands, Gotha, 1878. COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 5 central and commanding. There are, it must be added, two characteristics of the modern temper which make of the social question of the present time something quite different from the economic and social agitations of the past. In the first place, we are now confronted by a degree of radicalism and a scope of reconstructive purpose which practically create a new situation. Social and industrial reforms in the past have been for the most part ameliorative or philanthropic meas ures, accepting the existing order of things, and mitigating its harsher effects. Now and then a sudden wave of indignation has risen out of the depths of human nature and has swept away some special abuse like American slavery, or some spe cial form of social relationship like the ancien re'gime of France ; but for the most . part the desire to relieve the unfortunate and improve the condition of the hand-worker has satisfied itself with deeds of charity and with industrial expedients which calm the surface of social life. A wholly different state of mind prevails to-day. Beneath all the tranquillizing arrangements of philanthropy or industry which are being applied to social disorder, there is a vast and rising tide of discontent, stirring to its very bottom the stream of social life. The social question of the present age is not a question of mitigating the evils of the existing order, but a question whether the existing order itself shall last. It is not so much a problem of social amelioration 6 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION which occupies the modern mind, as a problem of social transformation and reconstruction. The new social interest is concerned not so much with effects as causes ; not with social therapeutics, but with social bacteriology and social hygiene. In deed, in this frame of mind there is often to be discerned a violent reaction from traditional ways of charity and from moderate measures of re form. The time is wasted, it is urged, which is given to lopping off occasional branches of social wrong, when the real social question cuts at the root from which these branches grow. Instead of inquiring what ways of charity are wise, let us rather, it is urged, inquire why charity is neces sary and why poverty exists. Instead of reform ing the adjustments of industry, let us rather ask why the effects of industry are so cruel, debasing, and unjust. Not a merciful use of things as they are, but a state of things where mercy will not be necessary; not patronage, but justice; not the gen erous distribution of superfluous wealth, but the righteous restitution of wealth to those who have created it, — such are the demands to which our ears have of late become accustomed, and which indicate the character of the modern social ques tion. " The number of relief- and charity-panaceas for poverty," said an English agitator, " are of no more value than a poultice to a wooden leg. What we want is economic revolution, and not pious and heroic resolutions." 1 JBen Tillett, in London Times, January I, 1895. COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING "J This unflinching radicalism proceeds to examine the very pillars of social life, and to consider whether they are worth what it costs to buttress and maintain them. Three such social institutions appear to support the fabric of modern civiliza tion — the family, private property, and the State ; and there is not one of these institutions whose continued existence in its present form is not now a matter of active discussion, or whose abolition is not confidently prophesied. Is not the institution of the family to be regarded as a passing incident in the course of social evolution, the end of whose social service has nearly arrived ? Is not the insti tution of private property a mere symbol of social oppression, so that, .as the earlier revolutionists cried, "Property is robbery," their modern fol lowers may now add, " It is right to rob the rob bers " ? Is not the institution of the State, in its present form, a mere instrument of the privileged class, and must it not be supplanted by a coopera tive commonwealth of collective ownership ? Ques tions like these, freely agitated in our day by all sorts and conditions of people, indicate how funda mental and thoroughgoing the social problem of which they are a part must be. They propose a revolution, not only in the outward conditions of social life, but in the very instincts and habits of mind which adjust themselves to the present social order. Such possibilities of social change are viewed by many persons with grave apprehension, and by •8 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION many with jubilant hope. To one class of observ ers, we appear to be threatened by social disaster, industrial chaos, a new slavery ; to the opposite class, we appear to be at the dawn of a happy era of brotherhood and justice, and Mr. William Morris sings: — ¦ " Come hither, lads, and hearken, for there is a tale to tell, Of the wonderful days a-coming when all shall be better than well."1 From either point of view, however, the social question is seen to have a quality of comprehen siveness and radicalism which makes it practically a new issue, and it is important at the outset of the present inquiry to recognize how large a ques tion it is with which we have to do. A generation ago Mr. Lowell touched the note of the social question of his time in his " Vision of Sir Launfal." Social duty seemed then fulfilled in deeds of benev olence and self-sacrificing love; and a whole gen eration learned to repeat his lines as the summary of social service : — " Not what we give, but what we share, For the gift without the giver is bare. Who giveth himself with his alms feeds three, — Himself, his hungering neighbor, and Me." The temper of the present age is no longer com prehended by such a statement of the social ques tion. Instead of generosity, men ask for justice ; instead of alms, they demand work. Thus the le- 1,1 Chants for Socialists," London, 1885. COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 9 gend of the search for holiness, if written for present-day readers, must be translated from the language of charity into the language of industrial Hfe, and the new Sir Launfal finds his Holy Grail through productive labor rather than through pity ing love. " They who tread the path of labor, follow where Christ's feet have trod, They who work without complaining, do the holy will of God. Where the weary toil together, there am I among my own, Where the tired workman sleepeth, there am I with him alone. ******* This is the Gospel of labor — ring it, ye bells of the kirk, The Lord of Love came down from above to live with the men who work." x A second characteristic of the modern social question is quite as unmistakable and significant. Whatever aspect of it we approach, we find the discussion and agitation of the present time turn ing in a quite unprecedented degree to moral issues, and using the language and weapons of a moral reform. The social question of the pres ent time is an ethical question. Selfishness enough exists, it is true, among advocates of social change; class hatred is also there, and the lust for power, and the primitive instincts which, as Hobbes said, make each man a wolf to his neighbor; but the power and the pathos of the modern social move ment reside in the passionate demand, now heard 1 Henry Van Dyke, "The Toiling of Felix," 1898. 10 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION on every hand, for justice, brotherhood, liberty, the chance for a human way of life. In his "Progress and Poverty" Mr. Henry George re marks, " If our inquiry into the cause which makes low wages and pauperism the accompaniments of material progress has any value, it will bear trans lation from the language of economics into that of ethics, and, as the source of social evils, show a wrong." * That is the note of the present situation. The social question, which on its surface is an eco nomic question, issues in reality from a sense of wrong. This ethical note is struck by the new philanthropy, in its unprecedented sense of social obligation, its call for personal devotion, its demand for self -discipline and wisdom ; and the same note is heard in the harsher tone of the labor agitation, declaring against the iniquity of the employer and the inconsistency of private ownership with the brotherhood of man. Behind many an economic fallacy which would seem to have no right to per manent influence lies this force of moral feeling, which supports the irrational creed, as a building supports the scaffolding which leans against it. Here is a quality of the modern social question which one immediately perceives to be a sign of promise. Misdirected, passionate, inarticulate, the cry for social righteousness may be ; but after all 1 " Progress and Poverty," Book VII, Ch. I. See also, Pref ace to fourth edition : " The inquiry passes into the field of ethics. ... It also identifies the law of social life with the great moral law of justice." COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING I I it is an unmistakable sign of social progress, when millions of people, in all lands and of all conditions, are trying, however blindly, to discover what is right and what is wrong in social conduct, and to reach some consistency between their social condi tion and their social ideals. " The real solution of this problem," said Professor Ingram to a Trades- Union Congress in Dublin, " can be effected only by such reorganization of ideas and renovation of sentiment as will rise to the dimensions of an intellectual and moral reform." 1 It is not by accident, then, that the social question is most conspicuous in the most prosperous and best educated countries. It is one expression of pros perity and education. There is no social question in Turkey or Egypt. The problem of social jus tice does not grow out of the worst social condi tions, but out of the best. It is not a mark of social decadence, but of social vitality. It is one expression of popular education, intellectual lib erty, and quickened sentiments of sympathy and love, and there can be nothing but good in the end to come of an agitation which fundamentally repre sents a renaissance of moral responsibility. It is its ethical quality, moreover, which gives to the social question of the present day its commanding interest for generous minds. Great numbers of men and women are lavishing their time and thought on social service, without pre cisely defining to themselves why such occupations 1 Kaufmann, " Christian Socialism," 1888, p. 12. 12 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION open, as they are pursued, into a peculiar peace and joy. There is nothing intrinsically picturesque or noble about the poor or degraded ; there is little romance in the administration of details in industrial or social life. Why is it, then, that time, ability, money, and sympathy are in such abun dance offered for such service ? It is because, through these channels of activity, the moral life of the time finds its natural outlet. It is a great source of happiness to be associated with people who are trying, however imperfectly, to make a better world. Many a life emerges through such association from an experience of narrowness and emptiness into one of breadth, fulness, and satis faction. It is like a journey from one's own village to a foreign land, from which one returns with a new sense of human kinship, a more com prehensive sympathy, and a profounder gratitude for his own blessings. The advent of the social question in its present form has brought with it a great and happy revival of ethical confidence. The older ethics was individual, introspective, self-examining, and its stream grew narrow and uninviting and dry; but into its bed there has broken this new flood of social interests, like a spring freshet filling the channel to its banks ; and now a score of outlets can hardly contain the stream of philanthropic service which sweeps on to the refreshing of the world.1 1 The ethical character of the social question is observed not by the social reformers only, but by the philosophers of history : Th. COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 1 3 In the light, then, of these two characteristics of the modern social question, its radical intention and its ethical passion, a further quality which one observes in the present situation may appear at first sight surprising. It would seem as if there were an obvious kinship between the spirit of this Ziegler, "Die soziale Frage eine ethische Frage," 1891, a stirring attempt " to examine critically the conditions which exist, and to consider how they may be brought to an issue in which our highest good shall not be lost," s. 8. See also : Jodl, " Volkswirtschafts- lehre und Ethik, Deutsche Zeit- und Streitfragen," 1886; F. Hasler (from the Roman Catholic standpoint), "Ueber das Ver- haltniss der Volkswirtschaft und Moral," 1887; Bonar, " Philosophy and Political Economy in some of their Relations," 1893, Bk. V; International fournal of Ethics, January, 1897, P- I9I> C. S. Devas, "The Restoration of Economics to Ethics," "All [these sciences] move in an ethical atmosphere; ... all have principally to do with what is right and wrong " ; L. Ragaz, " Evangelium und Moderne Moral," 1898; and for the history of this " socialization of ideals," Stein, " Die soziale Frage im Lichte der Philosophie," 1897, especially s. 660 ff., " Die Sozialisierung der Religion." Compare also the evidence of the economists : A. T. Hadley, " Economics," p. 23, " The modern economist . . . would say that nothing was economically beneficent which was ethically bad ; he would insist with equal force that nothing could be ethically good which was economically disastrous " ; CD. Wright, " The Relation of Political Economy to the Labor Question," 1882; F. A. Lange, " Die Arbeiterfrage," 1879. Note also the remarkable expansion of systematic ethics into the sphere of the social question : Wundt, "Ethik," 1886, ss. 159 ff., 498 ff., 529 ff.; Paulsen, "System der Ethik," 1889, s. 698 ff.; and his paper before the ioter Evang.-soz. Kongress, 1899, 5. 95, " Wandlungen des Bildungsideals in ihrem Zusammenhang mit der sozialen Entwickelung " ; Runze, " Prak- tische Ethik," 1891, s. 65 ff., with much bibliographical material ; H. S. Nash, " Genesis of the Social Conscience," 1897, p. 223 ff. ; Newman Smyth, "Christian Ethics," Ch. IV; "The Social Prob lem and Christian Duties." 14 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION new philanthropy and the spirit of the Christian rehgion. In both there is the same sense of value in the humblest human soul, the same desire for a spiritual democracy, the same call for self-sacrifice, the same readiness to overthrow existing traditions and institutions for the sake of righteousness. The social question, one might anticipate, would be at heart not only an ethical question but a rehgious question also. " The religious element," said Mazzini, " is universal, immortal. . . . Every great revolution has borne its stamp and revealed it in its origin or in its aim. . . . The instinctive philosophy of the people is faith in God." J " Socialism," it has been remarked, " in its most explicit and absolute form, has a great attraction for the masses, by reason of that quality which it possesses in common with the gospels. ... It is this factor which has lent to those who profess and propagate it the illusion of an apostolate, and has inspired in those who are its objects an enthu siasm extending to fanaticism, to crime devoid of personal motive, to the scaffold itself."2 Yet, nothing is in fact more conspicuous than the lack of practical cooperation, and in many instances the distrust and hostility, which prevail between these two ways of social sendee. Sometimes there is a candid dread of theological complica tions, as when scientific charity lays down the 1 " Faith and the Future," 1835. 2"Nuova Anthologia," 16 November, 1898, p. 269. F. Nobili- Vitelleschi, " II Socialismo di Stato." COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 1 5 principle of abstinence from proselytizing. Some times there is a sheer disappointment with the social effectiveness of the Christian Church, such as forced one of the most judicious labor leaders in England to say that he saw no place for religion in the working-man's programme. Sometimes, again, there is a genuine reproduction of Christian prin ciples of conduct without formal recognition of the Christian Church, as in the extraordinary growth of the cooperative system in Great Britain. In many such ways of social activity the instincts which in other centuries would have drawn people toward religion are finding their satisfaction without religion ; or, rather, are finding in philan thropy or labor unions or cooperative societies or kindred social interests practical equivalents for religion, satisfying hearts with generous emotions and offering strong persuasions to loyalty and fellowship. When, further, we turn to the more radical expressions of social discontent, the prevail ing attitude toward religion becomes even less friendly. It is not necessary to notice the merely vulgar talk of agitators who make it a part of their stock in trade to ridicule and vilify the religious life.1 It should also be observed that in 1 A collection of such coarser utterances may be found in Kauf- mann, "Christian Socialism," 1888, Ch. IX; and in profusion in Kohler, " Sozialistische Irrlehren von der Entstehung des Christen- tums," 1899, s. 21 ff. "To suppress religion which provides an illusory happiness is to establish the claim of real happiness," " Nouveau Parti," 1884 (Kaufmann, p. 195). "The cross, once a symbol of suffering, is now a symbol of slavery," To-day, January, 1 6 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION the official programmes of social revolution religion is, as a rule, declared to be a matter of personal decision, as though neutrality toward it were pro posed.1 The expositors of revolutionary prin ciples, however, maintain no such reserve. They do not scruple to affirm that among the pillars of the present social order, which must be over thrown if the better social order is to prevail, are the institutions and habits of the Christian religion. " The revolution," said Bebel, " differs from all its predecessors in this, that it does not seek for new forms of religion, but denies religion alto gether." 2 " The first word of religion," wrote Friedrich Erigels, " is a lie." " The idea of God," said Marx, " must be destroyed ; it is the key stone of a perverted civilization." " It is use less," adds Mr. Belfort Bax, " blinking the fact that the Christian doctrine is more revolting to the higher moral sense of to-day than the Saturnalia of the cult of Proserpina could have been to the conscience of the early Christians ; " 3 and in another place he says : " In what sense socialism 1894 (Kaufmann, p. 3). "We are all, I take it, disciples of the materialist philosophy of history derived from Marx," Remarks at Stuttgart Congress (Kohler, s. 7) . 1 " Erklarung der Religion zur Privatsache," Programm der sozialdemokratischen Partei Deutschlands. See also, Nation, Nov. 12, 1891, "German Socialists in Council," an account of the Erfurt Congress of tSgr, F. G. Peabody. 2 " Die wahre Gestalt des Christentums," 2. Aufl., 1887, quoted by Herrmann ; " Religion und Sozialdemokratie," 2ter Evang.-soz. Kongress, s. 13. 8 Quoted, Pall Mall Magazine, April, 1895. COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING \J is not rehgion will be now clear. It utterly despises ' the other world,' with all its stage prop erties, — that is, the present objects of religion. In what sense it is not irreligious will be also, I think, tolerably clear; it brings back religion from heaven to earth. . . ." " It is in the hope and struggle for the higher social life that ... the so- cialist finds his ideal, his religion." " The socialist requires no transformed Christian rites to aid him in keeping his ideal before him. . . ." " It is only natural that the socialist should resent with some indignation the continual reference of ideal perfection to a semi-mythical Syrian of the first century, when he sees higher types even in some men walking this upper earth." 1 In short, as the eloquent Pastor Naumann concludes, " Social democracy turns against Christ and the Church because it sees in them only the means of provide ing a rehgious foundation for the existing eco* nomic order." 2 1 Bax, " The Religion of Socialism," 1886, pp. 52, 96. 2 F. Naumann, " Das soziale Programm der evangelischen Kirdhe," 1891, s. 49. The attitude of scientific socialism to the Christian religion is sufficiently indicated by : " Geschichte des Sozialismus in Einzeldarstellungen," 1895, 3ter Band, F. Mehring, " Geschichte der deutschen Sozialdemokratie," 1897, 2ter Teil, s. 387 ff., Die Christ- lich-soziale Agitation; Engels, " Zur Geschichte des Urchristen- tums, Neue Zeit," 1894-1895; Lutgenau, "Natiirliche und sozialistische Religion," 1894; Stein, "Die Soziale Frage im Lichte der Philosophic," s. 660 ff., " Die Sozialisierung der Reli gion." The popular acceptance of this view is illustrated by Rade, " Die sittlich-religiose Gedankenwelt unserer Industriearbeiter," 9ter Evang.-soz. Kongress, 1898, s. 66; and by P. Gohre, "Drei Monate C 1 8 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION Here we come upon one of the most curious and important facts of the revolutionary movement. At first sight it is difficult to understand why a movement which appears to propose simply an economic change should be colored by this antipa thy to spiritual ideals. The truth is, however, that this characteristic of social radicalism proceeds, in the main, not from an economic necessity, but from the philosophy of history with which the German school of scientific socialism happens to be associated. Marx and Lassalle, the apostles of the German socialist gospel, though of very differ ent types of character, were both of Jewish extrac tion, and both had been swept into the current of the Hegelian philosophy, in its more radical inter pretation. To this way of thought the universe presented itself as a self-unfolding process of material forces, one result of which was expressed in the shifting opinions and beliefs of men. These doctrines and ideals were, to the left wing of Hegel ianism, not glimpses of reality, but effects of social conditions. Spiritual ideals were the result of Fabrikarbeiter," 1891, s. 142 ff. Adequate criticism of this position is offered by : Herrmann, " Religion und Sozialdemokratie," 2ter Evang.-soz. Kongress, 1891; A. Wagner, "Das neue sozialdemo- kratische Programm," 3ter Evang.-soz. Kongress, 1892. See also the less important discussion in Flint, "Socialism," 1894, Ch. IX, " Socialism and Religion." The whole subject is treated in elabo rate detail by H. Kohler (op. cit.). So Uhland: — " Ich ging zur Tempelhalle zu horen christlich Recht, Hier innen Bruder alle, dort draussen Herr und Knecht ! Der Festesrede Giebel war : Duck dich, schweig dabei 1 Als ob die ganze Bibel ein Buch der Konige sei." COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 1 9 economic circumstances, not revelations of abso lute truth. Given a certain range of economic condition, and there would ensue a certain quality of spiritual belief or of religious fellowship. " Every man," said Bebel, " is a product of his time and an instrument of circumstances. Chris tianity, then, the prevailing spiritual expression of the present economic order, must pass away as a better social order arrives. Indeed, the wise reformer should apply himself to economic revolu tion exclusively, because he is sure that the evanes cent imaginations which capitalism has suggested will disappear like dew when the morning of socialism arrives." It would not at first seem as if such a philosophy of the universe could have had great significance for a parliamentary party of plain working-people ; yet the fact is that it tinges a great portion of the talk of labor agitators, falls in with many lower impulses, becomes the justifica tion of many natural prejudices, and contributes greatly to the consolidation of the working-class against the privileged and the pious. It is not enough to say that the socialist programme is indif ferent to rehgion. It undertakes to provide a sub stitute for rehgion. It is a religion, so far as religion is represented by a philosophy of life, to which men give themselves with passionate attachment. It sets itself against Christianity because, as Lieb- knecht said, " That is the religion of private prop erty and of the respectable classes." It offers itself as an alternative to the Christian rehgion. 20 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION It is, as a distinguished critic has remarked, not merely a new economic and social programme, but proposes to compete with Christianity in offering a comprehensive creed.1 We find, then, a gulf of alienation and misinterpre tation lying between the social movement and the Christian religion, — a gulf so wide and deep as to recall the judgment of Schopenhauer, that Chris tianity, in its real attitude toward the world, is abso lutely remote from the spirit of the modern age. Yet, from the time when the social question began to take its present form, there have not failed to be heard a series of protests against this alienation of the new movement from the organization of the Christian life. To any one, indeed, who has once recognized the ethical quality of the modern social question, the interpretation of it in terms of sheer philosophical materialism must appear a perversion of its characteristic aim, which can have occurred only through an unfortunate historical accident. What reason has the Christian Church for existing, many persons are now asking, if it is not to have a part in that shaping of a better world which at the same time is the aim of the social movement ? What was the gospel of Jesus if it was not, as he himself called it, a gospel for the poor, the blind, 1 H. Holtzmann, "Die ersten Christen und die soziale Frage" (" Wiss. Vortrage iiber rel. Fragen," 1880), s. 55. So Nathusius, " Die Mitarbeit der Kirche an der Losung der sozialen Frage," 1897, s. 115 ff., "Radical socialism must be in opposition to pre vailing religion, because it is itself a religion." COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 21 the prisoners, and the broken-hearted ? Is it not possible that the social movement, which so often seems remote from, or even hostile to, the work of the Christian religion, may be in reality nothing else than a modern expansion of that religion ? May it not come to pass that the solution of the social question shall be found in the principles of the Christian religion ? And is it not, on the other hand, evident that the only test of the Chris tian religion which the modern world will regard as adequate is its applicability to the solution of the social question? Must we not, as Maurice said, either socialize Christianity or Christianize social ism ? Such considerations have prompted a great number of propositions, — experimental and philo sophical, reactionary and radical, — looking to the reconciliation of economic needs with Christian ideals. They range all the way from the most obvi ous and practical undertakings to the most vision ary and speculative schemes. Each plan creates strange companionships, — Catholics with Protest ants, scholars with hand-workers, — yet all are at one in the desire to find a place for the Christian life in the modern world ; and while a complete history of such schemes is quite beyond our present pur pose, it may be instructive to indicate briefly a few of the ways in which this reconciliation has been sought. The first and most elementary scheme thus pro posed is that of a literal reproduction of the eco- 22 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION nomic life of primitive Christianity. The disciples, we read in the book of Acts, "had all things com mon " ; and "sold their possessions and goods, and parted them to all, according as any man had need"; "and not one of them said that aught of the things which he possessed was his own." 1 These passages have given encouragement to a long series of experiments in Christian communism, sometimes monastic in form, sometimes ascetic in bond of union, but always inspired by the hope of practically establishing a Christian way of life in the midst of an unchristianized world. No one can recall these tranquil communities of pious and self-effacing souls without a touch of admiration. It is reassuring to see the lusts of the world, which dominate so many hves, powerless to disquiet or control. The lingering communities which still attempt, in unambitious seclusion, this reproduc tion of apostolic life are to our time what the best of monastic life was in its own age — spots of calm in the centre of the cyclonic activity of the world. Yet these conscientious attempts to revive the industrial life of the first disciples have no substan tial justification, either in economics or in Christian history. On the one hand, they do not meet the modern problem of economic life ; they simply run away from it. It is impossible for such communi ties to enter on a large scale into direct competi tion with the methods of the great industry ; and it 1 Acts ii. 44; iv. 32. COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 23 is equally impossible for the needs of the world — or, for that matter, of the community itself — to be supplied by these primitive ways of pro duction. Communism, while it rejects the eco nomic order surrounding it, still rests on that order. The factories, railways, great cities, and exchanges of commerce provide the very condi tions which make it possible for the privileged few to retreat to a life of calm. It was the same with the monastic system. It could not be for the many, still less for all. The world's work had to go on, and the unproductive saints had to be, in large part, supported by the toiling and unsanctified world which lay about the monastery's walls. Christian communism then, even at its best, is not an advance, but a retreat. Its disci ples deceive themselves with the impression that they have subdued the world, when in reality they have fled from the world. The only way out of economic disorders and imperfections is through them; and the Christian life in the present, age must be sought, not in reversion to an impossible past, but in the creation of a better future. To these considerations must be added the fact that these supposed reproductions of primitive Christian economics have no adequate justification even in the Scriptural passages on which they appear to rest. The social life of the first disci ples, when more closely scrutinized, is seen to have been something quite different from the rule of a monastic order with its vow of poverty, or of a 24 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION modem society with its communal control of pro ductive industry and family life. Indeed, it is quite contrary to the spirit of those first days of Christian discipleship to think of them as devoted to the establishing of any economic system or the prescribing of any fixed rule of social life. There is, in the first place, no evidence that what is re ported of the little company at Jerusalem became in any degree a general practice, as though enjoined by the teaching of Jesus. No other instance of communal ownership is cited in the book of Acts ; but, on the other hand, the mother of Mark con tinues to own her home in Jerusalem,1 and volun tary relief is sent from Antioch by "every man according to his ability." 2 The apostle Paul knows nothing of such communistic regulations. " Let each man," he says, "do according as he hath purposed in his heart; not grudgingly, or of necessity."8 "Upon the first day of the week let each one of you lay by him in store, as he may prosper." i "We command and exhort in the Lord Jesus Christ, that with quietness they work, and eat their own bread."5 In short, the communism of the day of Pentecost, like the gift of tongues described in the same chapter, was a spontaneous, unique, and unrepeated manifestation of that elevation and unity of spirit which possessed the httle company in the first glow of their new faith. Still further, this shar ing of each other's possessions, which was thus 1 Acts xii. 12. 2 Acts xi. 29. » 2 Cor. ix. 7. * I Cor. xvi. 2. 6 2 Thess. iii. 12. COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 25 for the moment a sign of their perfect brother hood, was even then no formal or compulsory sys tem. The narrative immediately goes on to say that one disciple, Barnabas, "having a field, sold it, and brought the money, and laid it at the apostles' feet,"1 — singling this man out, it would appear, as unusually munificent. In the case of Ananias and Sapphira,2 it is not the keeping back part of the price of the land, but the lie to the Holy Ghost which is condemned. "Whiles it re mained, did it not remain thine own ? and after it was sold, was it not in thy power ? " 3 This man and woman wanted to appear to have made the same exceptional sacrifice which had been praised in the case of Barnabas, and it was their fraudu lent virtue, not the reserving of their private prop erty, which made their sin so base. Thus the so-called communism of primitive Chris tianity was simply a glad, free, domestic relationship of generous aid and service, such as any modern Christian congregation might legitimately strive to imitate. It did not abolish distinctions of rich and poor, still less did it enter the sphere of productive industry. Its economics were those of a loving family. Each man might keep his own posses sions, but " not one of them said that aught of the things which he possessed was his own." The hearts of the first believers were stirred to self-for getful and self-sacrificing service, and the church at Jerusalem soon became in such a degree a 1 Acts iv. 37. 2 Acts v. 1-10. 8 Acts v. 4. 26 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION refuge for the poor that it was in need of mission ary help from Gentile congregations. In all this, however, there is no warrant for identifying Chris tian faith with a single system of economic distribu tion. Gladly as Jesus would have welcomed that new glow of loyalty which had " all things com mon," and certainly as he would recognize the same self-effacing love in many an uncompetitive and unambitious community to-day, it is both im practicable and unhistorical to regard communism as that solution of the social question to which the New Testament is committed. Fortunately for the Christian life, Jesus does not shut it within the limits of any single social scheme, still less of a programme which can have no important place in the organization of the modern world.1 1 It is as a rule assumed by interpreters of the New Testament with socialist sympathies that the communism of the book of Acts is a genuine anticipation of the modern protest against capitalism. Nitti, "Catholic Socialism," London, 1895, p. 62, " It is certain that the early Christians practised communism or community of goods. . . . The first Christians did not seek to acquire wealth; like Christ, they sought to annihilate it. . . . Christianity was a vast economic revolution more than anything else." Herron, " Be tween Caesar and Jesus," p. 109, " Apostolic Christianity took seriously the economic facts of the spiritual life. Men understood that in becoming Jesus's disciples it was incumbent upon them to surrender private interests." Renan, " The Apostles " (tr. J. H. Allen, 1898), "The account in Acts is in perfect accord with what we know of the other ascetic religions, — Buddhism, for example, — which always begin with cenobitic (or communistic) life, the first adepts being a host of mendicant monks." Todt, " Der radikale deutsche Sozialismus und die christliche Gesellschaft," 2. Aufl., s. 70, " The first Christian community was penetrated by the thought of COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 27 A second and more familiar way of applying the Christian spirit to the social question is the way of Christian philanthropy. The work of the unity of interests. Each strove for all and all for each. In this striving they were communists as our socialists are to-day." Yet Todt later, s. 188 ff., admits that this was no fixed or invariable rule. " The New Testament represents human liberty and accepts any form of property-holding which fulfils this condition, whether it be private property in real estate or communal ownership in the socialist sense." For the prevailing teaching of scientific socialists, see the abundant literature cited and the criticism offered in Koh ler, " Sozialistische Irrlehren von der Entstehung des Christentums," 1899, s. 85 ff. On the other hand, New Testament critics of the first rank are practically agreed in recognizing that no real analogy exists between the modern situation and the early Christian practice : Pfleiderer, " Urchristentum," 1887, s. 24; Weizsacker, "Apost. Zeitalter," 2. Aufl., 1892, s. 47; and the conclusive discussion of Wendt (Meyer's "Kommentar, Apostelgesch.," s. 102 and 120). See also, Rogge, "Der irdische Besitz im Neuen Testament," 1899, s. 73, "The Koivwvla of the first Christians is not an institution like the communism of the Essenes or Therapeutes, rather a condi tion marked, as Uhlhorn fittingly says, ' by absence of institutions.' " Uhlhorn, " Charity in the Early Church," p. 74, " We might as well speak of the institution of a community of goods in a family . . . the thought with which we are dealing is not an institution of a community of goods, but noble almsgiving." M. von Nathusius, " Die Mitarbeit der Kirche an der Losung der sozialen Frage," 2. Aufl., 1897, s. 403, "The communism of the first congregation in Jerusalem consisted essentially in a point of view. No one said of those things which were his own that they were his own; but it must be recognized that the basis of this moral duty lay in the right to private property. The Christian must spend his private property for the general good." H. Holtzmann, in his elaborate study of this subject, " Die ersten Christen und die soziale Frage," 1882, goes still farther, concluding not only that (s. 30), " No compulsory abandonment of property relations or legally introduced commu- 28 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION religion in a world of social needs is here held to be, not the impracticable imitation of primi tive social life, but the illumination of the world as it is with works of mercy and service. " By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another."1 This way of service has come to be a self-evident Christian duty. Never before was there so clear a recog nition of the social responsibility of Christian be lievers ; never was there such multiplication of philanthropic agencies in the name of Christianity, or such general agreement that the test of religion in the present age must be its capacity to inspire deeds of love. In 1 849 Pastor Wichern, the founder nism is suggested. Of such an institution the book of Acts speaks not a word; " but going on to suggest that (s. 49), "The picture offered by the book of Acts of communism in Jerusalem represents the social ideal of the author, described as realized in the sacred days of the beginnings of Christianity ; " a view which Rogge (s. 69) regards as "a complete contradiction of the method in which the author of the third gospel and the book of Acts else where deals with his sources." Even a critic of avowed sympathy with the socialist programme, like O. Holtzmann, " Jesus Christus und das Gemeinschaftsleben der Menschen," 1893, candidly re marks : " What the book of Acts describes is free offerings of Christian brotherhood; . . . of industry in common, of the estimat ing of each individual according to his work, of any levelling of possessions or of labor, there is not a sign. No likeness is to be found between the conditions of the first Christian community and the programme proposed by socialism." Compare also : G. Adler, "Geschichte des Sozialismus und Communismus von Plato bis zur Gegenwart," Erster Teil, 1899, s. 69 ff. ; Stein, " Die soziale Frage im Lichte der Philosophic," s. 232 ff. ; " Das Urchristentum und die soziale Frage." 1 John xiii. 35. COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 29 of the Innr.re Mission An.. Gprrnajy addressed his Letter to the Nation, urging Christian believers to enter "into the ferment and questioning of the time, . . . and give the only indisputable proof that Chris tianity . . . can accomplish what is possible to no power or wisdom without the gospel ; " 2 and this proving of Christian faith by Christian works has become the special mark of modern Christian ity. A hundred ways of service, visitation, and relief, the advocacy of temperance and of recrea tion, the provision of the social settlement and of the institutional church, illustrate the expansion of the work of religion into the sphere of the social movement. Yet these Christian activities, beauti ful and fruitful as they are, and testifying as they | do to the vitality of the Christian religion, cannot be regarded as presenting in themselves a solution of the modern social question. This question, as we have already seen, cuts quite beneath the whole problem of philanthropy, and cannot be summed up in terms of pity for the unfortunate or of alms giving for the poor. It inquires for the causes of ill fortune, and demands justice for the poor. It applies itself to changing the conditions which make (people poor, rather than to pitying the poverty which evil conditions have made. However legitimate 1 Wichern, " Die innere Mission der deutschen evangelischen Kirche," 3. Aufl., 1889 ; Gohre, " Die evangelisch-soziale Bewe- gung," 1896, s. 3ff. ; Schafer, " Leitfaden der iimeren Mission," 1889, s. 52 ff. ; Uhlhorn, "Die christliche Liebesthatigkeit seit deir Reformation," 1890, s. 347 ff. 30 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION and beneficent, then, the progress of Christian sym pathy and charity may be, it does not satisfy the demand of the time. It is the work of a practising physician, dealing with special cases of disease, while beneath his mitigation of results lie profounder inquiries concerning the causes and prevention of disease. To meet the social question as it now pre sents itself, religion must be more than merciful and generous ; it must find a place for itself in that search for better economic conditions and better social organization which absorbs the attention of the present time. Here, then, we come upon many schemes and dreams which, in the name of the Christian reli gion, concern themselves directly with the disorder and incompleteness of the industrial world. They may be roughly classified in a few general types. , First, and on the outskirts of these definite propo- ; sitions and programmes, there is what may be j called the work of prophecy. The prophet, in the social question, as in religion, is not the sys tem-maker, or even the foreteller of the future. He is the advocate of righteousness ; he lays bare the sins of his people, and pronounces judgment on their transgression ; he pictures the rule of equity and peace, and promises to justice its reward. Here is at least one legitimate work of the Christian preacher. It does not need a training in political economy to make one sensitive to social sins. The same passion for righteousness which made the burden of Hebrew prophecy finds its place in an COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 3 1 effective Christian ministry to-day. The prophet may not know precisely what form the better future is to assume ; and when he depicts the details of that future, he may become only an impracticable visionary. His place is to proclaim the eternal law of righteousness and the retribution which, for a nation as for an individual, is sure to follow wrong. " The prophet that hath a dream," he says. " Is not my word like as fire ? saith the Lord; and like a hammer that breaketh the rock in pieces ? " 1 " Behold, I am against them that prophesy lying dreams, saith the Lord; ... I will cast you off, and the city that I gave unto you ; " 2 and again, of the faithful he says, " I will give them an heart to know me, that I am the Lord : and they shall be my people." " I will set mine eyes upon them for good, and I will bring them again to this land." 3 Among such prophets of the modern social question, two have had extraordinary influence on the consciences of Christians.4 Carlyle attacked 1 Jer. xxiii. 28, 29. 2 Jer. xxiii. 32, 39. 8 Jer. xxiv. 7, 6. 4 Of Carlyle's own writings the most significant are : " Chartism," 1840; " Past and Present," 1843 ; " Latter Day Pamphlets," 1880, See also: Schulze-Gavernitz, " Zum sozialen Frieden," 1890, I, ss. 77-290 ; " Thomas Carlyle als Sozialtheoretiker und Sozialpoli- tiker " ; Garnett, " Life of Thomas Carlyle " (with bibliography) ; Gibbins, "English Social Reformers," 1892, p. 181 ff. ; and the unsparing criticism of Robertson, "Modern Humanists," 1891, p. 11 ff. Of Ruskin the most significant writings are: "Unto this Last," 1862; "Crown of Wild Olive," 1866; "Time and Tide," 1867; "Fors Clavigera" {passim). See also the warm advocacy of J. A. Hobson, "John Ruskin, Social Reformer," 1898; the critical 32 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION with splendid satire the mammonism and dilettant ism of modern life, and pictured a revival of the ancient ways of social stability and peace ; Ruskin arraigned the prevailing political economy as un real and illusory, and substituted for it, in what he held was his most important work, a political economy whose roots should be honor, and whose veins of wealth should be "the purple veins of happy-hearted human creatures." Both of these great teachers were of the prophetic order. No one can read their arraignment of social unright eousness without a glow of sympathy and of self- reproach. To many a mind, sunk in an Egyptian self-content of commercialism, the summons of Carlyle has been as if a new Moses were calhng his people into the sterner region of the moral ideal ; to many a mind which has been stupefied by the ugliness and squalor of modern civilization, Ruskin has restored the hope of beauty and peace. Instead of an England of cruel traders and chartering politi cians, Carlyle conceives an England of heroes and captains of industry, fit to lead a holy war. Instead of wealth which sinks a man, as a belt of gold pieces would sink him in the sea, Ruskin calls for a new definition of riches. The only wealth is life ; all else is not wealth, but " ill-th." " I can even imag ine that England may cast all thoughts of posses sive wealth back to the barbaric nations among estimate of F.J. Stimson, Quarterly fournal of Economics, 1 888; and the less sympathetic treatment of Robertson (ut supra), p. 184 ff.; and of Politicus, "New Social Teachings," 1886, Ch. I. and II. COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 33 whom they first arose, — and be able to lead forth her sons, saying, ' These are my jewels.' " a Yet these teachers of duty and of beauty, when they abandon the path of spiritual inspira tion, and undertake that of economic instruction, warn us of the limits of the prophetic office. Carlyle proposes a reversion of industrial life from liberty of contract to the bondage of feu dalism. " I am for permanence in all things." "Gurth, the serf of Cedric, with a brass collar round his neck, is not what I call an exemplar of human felicity, but Gurth to me seems happy in compari son with many a man of these days, not born thrall of anybody." " Liberty when it becomes the lib erty to die by starvation is not so divine."2 Rus kin proposes a principle of exchange which shall abolish all distinctions of ability or fidelity, and which assumes an equality of service, the possibility of which Ruskin himself denies.3 Nothing, indeed, is more curious in literary history than the place which both Carlyle and Ruskin have come at last to occupy in the history of social reform. Both were completely opposed to the democratic tend ency of modern politics and industry. Both were at heart aristocrats and reactionaries. Neither had any fundamental sympathy with the socialist pro- 1." Unto this Last," Essay -II, Conclusion. 2 " Past and Present," Book III, Ch. XIII. 8 Compare, " Unto this Last," Essay III, with " Fors Clavigera," Letter V: "No liberty, but instant obedience to known law and appointed persons; no equality, but recognition of every_betterness and reprobation of every worseness." D 34 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION gramme. Both stood for authority, order, obedi ence. Ruskin speaks of himself as an "old Tory" and as an "Illiberal."1 Carlyle pours contempt on the antislavery agitation of a " long-sounding, long-eared Exeter Hall."2 Both found in medise- valism an escape from modern social ills. Carlyle would heal the economic evils of the nineteenth century by a reversion to feudalism ; Ruskin would redeem the ugliness of modern civilization by a re vival of primitive simplicity. Both distrusted the spirit of democracy and the rule of the majority. " I hate your Clutterbuck republics," said Carlyle, of the United States ; and Ruskin, in his splendid rhetoric, coincides in this view : " This I say, be cause the Americans as a nation set their trust in liberty and in equality, of which I detest the one and deny the possibility of the other ; and because, also, as a nation, they are wholly undesirous of rest, and incapable of it ; irreverent of themselves both in the present and in the future ; discontented with what they are, having no ideal of anything which they desire to become, as the tide of the troubled sea when it cannot rest." 3 Yet, by a strange perversion of the main intention of Carlyle and Ruskin, their prophetic denunciations have outlived their positive teachings ; their invectives against the world as it is have been heard, while their pictures of the world as it ought to be have 1 Hobson, p. 203. 2 " Past and Present," Book IX, Ch. V. 8 "Time and Tide," p. 152. COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 35 been forgotten. Carlyle's " Past " would be abso lutely intolerable to the radical reformers who still dehght in his arraignment of the " Present." Rus- kin's "Unto this Last," in its economic doctrine, may be so impracticable as to justify the jest that its title should be " Beyond his Last," but the vis ionary quality of Ruskin' s economics does not diminish the effectiveness of his splendid satire or of his moral exhortation. The prophetic quality in both these literary masters outlives their advo cacy of feudal authority, and both have been swept into the movement of radical socialism from which they would have instinctively recoiled, and find themselves at last cited as leading authorities in the text-books of social revolution.1 Few lessons are of more importance for teachers of righteous ness to learn than the natural limitations of the prophetic office which even these distinguished cases illustrate, and which are much more obvious in less gifted men. Many a Christian preacher, stirred by the recognition of social wrong, — and not infrequently by the burning message of Carlyle or of Ruskin, — is called to be a prophetic voice, crying in the wilderness of the social question; but many a prophet mistakes his office for that of the economist, and gives a passionate devo tion to industrial programmes which are sure to fail. Neither ethical passion nor rhetorical genius equip a preacher for economic judgments. It is 1 E.g. Morris, " Art and Socialism," 1884, appendix, with passages from Carlyle and Ruskin. 36 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION for the prophet of righteousness to exhort and warn, rather than to administer and organize. A different temper and training are required for k wisdom in industrial affairs. Reasonable, however, as such criticism may be concerning the function of prophecy, it does not fix a limit for Christian thought concerning the social question. On the contrary, it may happen that those who desire to apply the religious motive to social life shall frankly dismiss the function of prophecy, and enter, like other people, into the re gion of economic discussion and research. While it is true that there is nothing in Christian piety which of itself fits one for social wisdom, it is certainly not true that there is anything in such a sentiment which disqualifies one from prudent and patient inquiry or from intelligent decision. Beyond the position of the prophet, therefore, lie various phases of direct and practical service through which it is proposed to utilize religion as a social force, and to give it a definite place in economic hfe. The most usual and the most moderate type of the social utilization of religion is in what may be called — if the title may be used as one of appreciation and honor — the method of Christian opportunism. The opportunist is not necessarily a time-server; he may be simply a reformer who uses each opportunity as it arrives. The opportunist has no definite or final programme, but is ready to use any means which for the moment appears prac ticable. He feels his way through what is immedi- COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 27 ately possible toward the end which he desires. This is the frame of mind of the great majority of those who are attempting to apply the spirit of Christianity to the social question. The " Social Congresses " of Catholics and Protestants held each year in European countries, urge on their adherents, not specific enterprises in the name of religion, but observation, research, and readiness to apply the motives of religion to social life wherever the way may open. They represent an alert, awak ened, opportunist spirit, stirring great communions of Christians, — a spirit which is often led by new circumstances into quite unanticipated ways of usefulness.1 Of this direction of the Christian im pulse into unforeseen channels one of the most notable illustrations is to be found in the devoted service of Maurice and his friends in England.2 1 " Verhandlungen des Evang.-soz. Kongresses," I-XI, 1890- 1900 ; L. Gregoire (pseudonym) , " Le Pape, les Catholiques et la question sociale," 1895 (p. 313, "Programme du Congres Catholique de Cologne," 1894). 2 The story of the Maurice-Kingsley movement is delightfully told in the " Life of Frederic Denison Maurice, Chiefly in his Own Letters," 4th ed., 1885, especially Vol. II, Ch. I (a bibliography is prefixed to Vol. I) ; and in Brentano, "Die christlich-soziale Bewe- gung in England," 1883 (with bibliography). Of Maurice's own writings, the most significant are : " Dialogue between Somebody (a person of respectability) and Nobody (the author)," 1890; "Rea sons for Cooperation," 1891; and of Kingsley: "Message of the Church to Laboring Men," 1891; "Alton Locke," 1880; "Yeast," 1891 ; "Literary and General Lectures," 1880. See also Kauf- mann, "Christian Socialism," 1888, p. 57 ff. The true relation of Kingsley to Maurice is recorded in a conversation reported by E. Varnall, "Reminiscences," 1899, p. 190: " 'I owe all that I am to 38 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION The only economic principle which seemed at first clear to these brave men was their conviction of the unchristian character of the prevailing economic system. It was, as Kingsley said, a "narrow, con ceited, hypocritical, anarchic, and atheistic view of the universe." Of positive teaching they had little to offer. " I do not see my way," said Maurice, " farther than this : Competition is put forth as the law of the universe ; that is a he." Thus, the original position of this group was one of expect ant opportunism. By a fortunate coincidence, how ever, the English cooperative movement — devised, as must always be proudly remembered, by the humblest of hand-workers, without the counsel of the learned — was just beginning its history of ex traordinary expansion, and in the spirit of this in dustrial enterprise Maurice found an expression for his social Christianity. "Competition," said Kingsley, " means death ; cooperation means life." The English opportunists gave the strength of their leadership to the cooperative movement, and found satisfaction for their Christian socialism in a prac tical scheme which they themselves had not devised. Sympathetic opportunism, however, does not exhaust the resources of Christian thought con cerning the social question. Beyond the readi ness to use whatever way of service may offer itself lie many deliberate attempts to give to the social question a systematic interpretation in terms Maurice,' said Kingsley. ' I aim only to teach to others what I get from him.' ' I live to interpret him to the people of England.' " COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 39 of Christianity. They may proceed either by denying the extreme revolutionary doctrine, or by accepting it; in either case there is a distinct meeting of the economic issue and a definite inter vention, in the name of religion, in the affairs of the industrial life. On the one hand is what may be called the scientific reaction, — the renewed examination, that is to say, of the facts which create the social question, and the interpretation of them as facts of the moral and personal life rather than of the economic and social order. Of this direction of research an important illustration may be recalled in the work of the French engineer, Le Play.1 This distinguished inquirer was not only of the first rank in his scientific calling, but was also a devout Catholic. No sooner had the storm of revolution in France spent its force than Le Play applied to the facts of social disorder the same scientific examination which he had already given to the geology of Europe. With amazing 1 Le Play, " Les Ouvriers Europeens," 2e ed., 1879 ; " La Re- forme Sociale," 3 vols., 1872; C. de Ribbe, "Le Play d'apr&s sa correspondance," 1884; Curzon, "Frederic le Play, sa methode, sa doctrine, son oeuvre, son esprit," 1899 ; Quarterly fournal of Eco nomics, IV, 408, H. Higgs (and Appendix); "La Reforme Sociale, Bulletin des Unions de la Paix Sociale, fondee par F. le Play." The Musee Social, founded in 1895 by 'Qe Comte de Chambrun, and occupying his palace, 5 Rue las Casas, Paris, perpetuates in its library and its varied investigations the methods of Le Play. See Bodicker, " Le Comte de Chambrun et le Musee Social, Paris," 1896 ; " Statuts du Musee Social," 1896 ; " Chronique du Musee Social, Paris," Arthur Rousseau, 14 Rue Soufflot. See also C. Jannet, " Le Socialisme d'etat et la reforme sociale," 2e ed., 189a 40 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION industry and unprecedented range of observation he studied the conditions of domestic and indus trial life, in many countries and under many phases of civilization, and tabulated in minute detail the budget of income and expenditure which represented the economic condition of typical lives. His results were in undisguised opposition to the revolutionary dogmas which had already become conspicuous in France. The social question, he concluded, was not fundamentally one of economic transformation or of the abolition of privileges, but one of domestic integrity, industrial thrift, moral education, and living religion. The issue was ethical rather than economic ; the security of a country like France was to lie in the vitality of its family stocks, in greater prudence in expenditure, in productive skill, and in faith in the moral order of the world. The scientific liberalism of Le Play gained at once large hearing. It approved itself to the instinctive conservatism of the Church, and it has been perpetuated, with much statistical and historical learning, by many distinguished disciples. Yet even in France, and within the Catholic Church itself, this reactionary opposition to the collectivist creed has of late given way to a more sympathetic view. Whatever may be said of domestic virtues and moral education, there has seemed to many Christians no possibility of defin ing the social question in these terms alone. The specific problem of industrial change, it has been felt, must be met, and met in the name of the COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 4 1 (Christian Church. The Church must have a social (programme ; there must be a Christian doctrine !of economics ; the revolutionary social movement | must be tempered and deepened by the spirit of Christian faith. These are the convictions which have expressed themselves in the general type of thought known as Christian socialism, and which have united, in unanticipated fellowship, Catholics and Protestants, Germans and Frenchmen, conserv ative ecclesiastics and radical preachers. The first determined note of this new Chris tian programme was struck in Germany; not, as might be anticipated, by a Protestant reformer, but by a Catholic prelate. Several reasons may be suggested for this interesting historical fact. The Catholic Church has maintained throughout its history a continuous tradition of organic re sponsibility, and in this respect was peculiarly prepared to receive and interpret the conception of industrial unity which marks the modern social question. The Catholic Church, moreover, was in Germany the party of protest ; and its exclusion from political control gave it a freer hand for social agitation than was permitted to an Estab lished Church. Even before the revolution of 1848, the French Abbe" Lamennais1 had announced a 1 Nitti, " Catholic Socialism," p. 99 ff. ; Nathusius, " Die Mitar- beit der Kirche an der Losung der sozialen Frage," 1897, s. 121 ; Kaufmann, " Christian Socialism," 1 888, p. 35 ff. ; Mazzini's " Essays " (Camelot edition, 1887), p. 73: "Wherefore, thought Lamennais, — the mission of the Peoples, and their disposition toward order and justice, being recognized — wherefore should the Church refuse 42 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION new mission for his religion, and had found in the alarming watchwords, " Liberty, Fraternity, Equality," not merely the signs of social revolu tion, but the summons to a revival of Christianity. His voice, however, was of one crying in a wilder ness of conservative tradition, and his teaching was condemned by Gregory XVI. As the social question grew more distinct in form and the work ing-people of Germany were won to the socialist cause, the Catholic Church renewed its sympa thetic interest. At the very beginning of the new period, Lassalle, always more of an idealist than Marx, had proposed his scheme of working-men's productive associations, subsidized by the State, — -a scheme at first welcomed by the German Social Democracy, but soon supplanted by more comprehensive plans of revolution. Lassalle's sug gestion, however, was a seed which took root in strange soil. Baron von Ketteler,1 Archbishop of Mayence, a gallant prince of the Church, found in Lassalle's proposal the suggestion of an eco nomic programme for the Church itself. In his notable book, " The Labour Question and Chris tianity," he accepted the principle, and often the language, of the socialist scheme. The self-help proposed by the Liberals of his day for poverty to regulate their movements, to preside over the action of this provid ential instinct of the multitudes?" 1 Ketteler, " Die Arbeiterfrage und das Christentum," 4. Aufl., 1890; Girard, "Ketteler et la Question Ouvriere," 1896; Kauf- mann, "Christian Socialism," 1888, p. 108; Rae, "Contemporary Socialism," p. 224; Nitti, " Catholic Socialism," p. 100 ff. COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 43 is, to von Ketteler, in the working-man's present condition, a mere mockery. Associated produc tion, in the hands of the working-class itself, is to be its redemption from capitalism. While Lassalle, however, had turned to the State for the endowment of such productive industry, von Ketteler turned to the Church. Let Christians, he proposed, voluntarily supply the means for this industrial emancipation. What is this, in deed, but the renewal of that earlier spirit in which monasteries were endowed and cathedrals built? The new age calls for Christian munifi cence like that which enriched France and Eng land with the splendors of Gothic art. " May God in his goodness quickly raise up men who will sow the fruitful idea of the association of production in the soil of Christianity." It was a bold and noble conception of the social duty of a living Church, and, though the conditions of Germany were unpropitious and the scheme of von Ketteler was soon lost in larger plans of Catholic socialism, it has had of late, at the centre of Catholic authority, a most interesting revival. No sooner had the social chaos of 1 87 1 in France given way to some de gree of order, than a group of Catholic Legiti mists set themselves to the reorganizing of labor under the principles of religion. The principal representative of the French Catholic labor party, the soldierly and eloquent Count de Mun, found in the programme of industry suggested by von 44 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION Ketteler, and modified by the later German Catho lic Socialists, a key to the situation.1 There must be revived that system of industry which the Middle Ages knew as guilds. Economic liberty is a modern illusion ; the demand of the socialist for the reconstruction of industry under common ownership is legitimate and inevitable ; but that common ownership should be religious in spirit and Catholic in administration. Religion must reorganize the old order, and must utihze legis lation to that end. The State may strengthen the hands of the Church, but it is the Church which must reconstruct, — under the tutelage of religion, — the productive associations which Las salle had vainly dreamed could be maintained by the working-men alone. Should this picturesque revival of industrial feudalism, it may be asked, be a compulsory system, or a voluntary organization ? The Comte de Mun and his allies urge the necessity of State authority and control ; and their political demands coincide in the main with the programme of the Social Democratic party. On the other hand, there have sprung up in France a few voluntary associations which actually illustrate the practical direction of productive industry by the spirit of religion. Few more idyllic scenes are to be wit nessed in the modern world than that presented 1 Nitti, "Catholic Socialism," p. 273 ff., p. 292 ff, with further refer ences; Fortnightly Review, January, 1896, "An Object-lesson in Christian Democracy" (Val-des-Bois). COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 45 by the famous factory of Leon Harmel at Val-des- Bois, • — a contented, secluded, homogeneous popu lation, a "famille ouvriire" a picture of what the world of industry might be if only all working- people were French Catholics, and all employers were as devout and judicious as Harmel. Mean time the Church itself, while it has not authorita tively committed itself to either method of control, has given the highest approval to the general plan of a Catholic organization of industry. When the present Pope, in his remarkable Encyclical of May 15, 1891, enumerated the direct ways of economic relief which commended themselves to him, he began with these words : " First in order come the guilds of arts and trades. The increasing require ments of daily life render it necessary that these guilds be adapted to present conditions." Such suggestions, carefully guarded though they are, indicate the profound interest which has been awakened by enterprises like that of Harmel, and by parliamentary propositions like those of the Comte de Mun. A revival of guild life may indeed be impracticable except within the narrow limits of a homogeneous community ; but it is at least one way of direct acceptance by the Chris tian Church of the economic issue, and it appears to have received the formal commendation of that remarkable man who, it is said, desires to be remembered as the Pope of the working-classes.1 1 The social doctrine of the Roman Catholic Church cannot be inferred from the view of Nitti's" Catholic Socialism," 1899. Indeed, 46 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION When we turn to the parallel development of Christian socialism in Protestant Germany, we find. as might be expected, less continuity and definite- ness in social schemes, though not less determi nation to find a place for religion in the social movement. The history of such efforts begins with the work of a most interesting, though now half-forgotten, personality, the learned and devout Victor Huber.1 This diligent scholar had become acquainted, during his visits in England, with the work of Maurice, while, on the other hand, he had maintained a sympathetic correspondence with von Ketteler. Thus he was in some degree a link, uniting the Christian Socialist movement in Great Britain with that of Catholic Germany. From one of the most curious features of this learned book is the reit erated criticism of its author by its translator. For authorized expo sition of Catholic teaching see: Encyclical of May 15, 1891 (tr. Nitti, p. 404 ff.); American Catholic Quarterly Review, July, 1891, (a commentary on the Encyclical by Bishop Keane) ; Forum, Jan uary, 1897, De Vogue, " Pope Leo XIII "; and the very noteworthy book of Leon Gregoire (pseudonym), "Le Pap e, les Catholiques, et la Question Sociale," 2e ed., 1895. Of a more general nature are : Soderini, "Socialism and Catholicism," with a preface by Cardinal Vaughan, 1 896; Winterstein, " Die christliche Lehre vom Erdengut," 1898; see also J. G. Brooks, International fournal of Ethics, " The Social Question in the Catholic Congresses " ; and Ameri can Economic Association, 1894, "The Papal Encyclical on the Labor Question." 1 R. Elvers, "V. A. Huber, sein Werden und Wirken," 1879 ; Gohre, "Die evangelisch-soziale Bewegung," 1896, s. 6 ff. ; Kauf- mann, "Christian Socialism," 1888, p. 129. See also the references to Huber in England, in Maurice, " Life and Letters," 4th ed., 1885, Vol. II, p. 2 ff. COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 47 the one he derived his faith in industrial coopera tion, applying the principle not only to production and consumption, but to building societies, loan associations, and even, under the title of " Home Colonization," to the organization of German vil lage life ; from the other he derived a confidence in the Christian organization of industry, which led him to establish his "Associations for Chris tian Order and Liberty." Huber, however, was a man born out of due time; he was politically a Liberal of the earlier school, equally opposed to the governmental paternalism which had already begun to dominate Germany, and to the revolu tionary socialism which was formulating its first programme. -There was no natural constituency for his scheme. He would have no governmental aid for his cooperative societies, nor, on the other hand, would he deliver them over to the Social Democracy. He put his confidence in private initiative and free Christian feeling. He had seen, in England, a few Christian scholars devoted to a working-class movement, and he fancied that there might be in Germany a similar leadership. He had not realized, however, the violence of the working-class reaction in Germany from all alli ance with the prosperous. He was also, it is said, by temperament, lacking in conciliatory wisdom, and had something of that isolation of spirit which marks what the Germans call an " Einspdnner." His career was one of disappointment; he with drew from the academic circles of Berlin in 185 1, 48 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION for eighteen years lived in seclusion among the Harz Mountains, and the direct results of his gen erous efforts were transient and meagre. He is to be remembered, however, as the first German Protestant who, in the name of the Christian reli gion, proposed a definite social programme. Chris tian philanthropy, he maintained, was not to be satisfied with almsgiving and help for the help less, but was called to contribute to the new industrial issue the forces of organization and self- help. The social climate of England favored the efforts of Maurice, while that of Germany blighted the plans of von Ketteler and Huber, and the socialism of the State and of the Revolution left, between them, little room for Christian liberalism ; but it is not impossible that, when the full effect of prosperity secured by legislation comes to be observed in Germany, there may be a renewal of interest in enterprises of personal and spiritual initiative ; and if that time arrives, there is likely to be a renewed recognition of this early believer in the free activity of a living Church. Much more in accord with the tumultuous and shifting character of the modern social movement is the career of a second German Protestant leader, the eloquent and masterful Pastor Stocker.1 For twenty-five years this brilliant orator has been !A. Stocker, " Christlich-soziale Reden und Aufsatze," 1885; Gohre, "Die evangelisch-soziale Bewegung," 1896, s. 41 ff.; Rae, "Contemporary Socialism," 1891, p. 234; Kaufmann, "Christian Socialism," 1888, p. 159. COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 49 among the most conspicuous and the most criti cised of Germans. Few critics would question the motives of his intense and varied activity, but no one can recall the changeful policies of his stormy life without a pathetic impression of wasted power. As early as 1878, being then Court Preacher in Berlin, he organized his " Christian Sociahst Labor Party," " on the basis of the Christian faith," to "lessen the division between rich and poor, and to bring in a greater economic security." He dismissed the Social Democracy as " impracticable, unchristian, unpatriotic," and set forth a Christian programme as its substitute. It is not, he says, "in the name of the Church that the programme is proposed "; " the Church is not called to make an economic programme." His organization was not to be one of the clergy to help the working-men, but one of the working-men to help themselves. It was impossible, however, for a Court Preacher, with a mind essentially con servative and a following of the cultivated class, to command the genuine confidence of German hand workers. Stocker' s original ambition was thwarted also by legislation introduced by the government against the Socialists, — an attack which only served to consolidate their forces and to shut out the labor party of Stocker from consideration. His zeal turned, therefore, to a new and less noble crusade. The sympathy which was coldly received by the working-men found a warmer welcome in the ranks of tradespeople of the humbler type, 50 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION whose industrial welfare was seriously threatened by an extraordinary increase in power and prosper ity among the Jews. The social interest of Stocker joined with his orthodox theology in converting his original Christian socialism into anti-Semitism, and he became much more widely known as a Jew- hater than as a working-man's friend. Finally, in 1895, as if conscious that a working-class move ment was impossible, Stocker and his friends turned to a more comprehensive but more con servative scheme. There was organized at Eisenach a " Christian Social Party," for the purpose of unit ing "under the principles of Christianity and patriotism persons of all classes and occupations who are moved by the Christian social spirit." " While its special attention is to be given to the elevation of the working-class as the present prob lem of the time, it will with equal gladness serve the needs of all productive interests in city and country, in agriculture, factory hfe, and menial labor." It opposes " all unchristian and un-Ger- man schemes of spurious liberalism, oppressive capitalism, rapacious Hebraism, and revolutionary socialism." Thus Stocker' s new platform com bined in one programme all the various ends for which in turn he had already contended. It has failed, however, of wide effect through its compre hensiveness, as the first programme failed through its limitations. Supported though Stocker has been by persons of importance, the distinction between his political ideals and those of the conservative COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 5 1 party has not been such as to detach votes, while he has been a special object of the attack against clerical influence in politics. The legislation of Bismarck concerning socialism cut the ground from under Stocker' s feet, and in 1890 he with drew from his position as Court Preacher. He has since remained a striking and solitary figure in parliamentary life, regarded by many persons with hesitating admiration and by some persons with special animosity ; yet he is, none the less, to be counted as the most eloquent and persistent of German Protestants in maintaining that social organization is an essential duty of the Christian Church in the modern world. Genuine and devout, then, as the Christian sociahsm of German Protestants has been, it can not be said to have produced a definite indus trial programme, or to have had a profound effect. It has found itself between two fires, the distrust of the government, and the undisguised contempt of the Social Democracy. On the one hand, it is met by the emperor's dictum that the clergy should leave politics alone ; on the other hand, it is confronted by the Socialist belief that religion is a superstition maintained in the interest of the confiscating class. In this state of things, the last proposition of the Protestant Socialists of Germany, while it is certainly heroic, would seem to be Quixotic, if not suicidal, in its character. The rebuke of the emperor, it is said by the eloquent preacher Naumann and his friends, is 52 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION not without justification. A clergyman in a State Church may not hope at the same time to main tain his clerical office and to establish a friendly relation with the working-class movement. Either his freedom of speech will cost him his place, or he will address property holders alone. His only escape from such a dilemma is to abandon the ministry as a profession, and, in the name of a new parliamentary party, to throw himself into political life. Christian socialism must be re garded as a political alternative, to be presented to German hand-workers in place of the Social Democracy which now commands their votes. It accepts the economic programme of the Socialist, but interprets and maintains that programme as a witness of the Christian religion. Gallant and self-sacrificing as this programme is, it cannot be regarded as a hopeful phase of practical effort. To abandon the Church for the sake of religion ; to see in politics the field for a religious revival ; to ally one's self with the Socialist party for the sake of supplanting them, — this will seem to most observers like the charge at Balaklava, magnificent, but not war; and the withdrawal of these Christian preachers from their prophetic office does not, at present, appear likely to carry with it the assurance of a corresponding influence and leadership in the political world. It is not essential for our purpose to cite further instances of the Christian protest against the aliena- COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 53 tion of the social question from the Christian reli gion. By many ways of utterance, by attempted imitation of New Testament economics, by works of philanthropy, by words of prophecy, by research, by organization, and by political methods, the Chris tian life of the modern world has maintained its right to interpret and direct the social agitations of the time. When one recalls, however, all these varied expressions of Christian responsibility, he cannot help remarking that one form of inquiry, which would seem to be of fundamental importance, has had but meagre attention. Behind all that may be urged of the duty of the Christian Church, and all that may be demanded of social life in the name of Christianity, there lies, for all followers of Jesus . Christ, the preliminary question concerning his per sonal teaching. What did Jesus himself have to say of the various spheres of social duty ? What is the social doctrine of the gospel ? By the answers to such questions the practical conduct of a loyal disciple of Jesus must be largely determined. It is most surprising, therefore, that in a period of such extraordinary social interest on the part of Christian believers, and in a time when the Watchword " Back to Christ ! " has become so .familiar, there should have been undertaken so /few systematic or scientific inquiries concerning ithe nature of his social teaching. Incidental treatment of the relation of Jesus to problems' of social life may be found, of course, in the elaborate studies of the life of Christ, of which, 54 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION since the days of Strauss and Renan, there has been such an abundance; and chapters also in the text-books of Christian ethics ; but in few such instances is disclosed any appreciation of the intense eagerness with which the present age desires to learn the social teaching of the gospel. The theological and philosophical interest of the life of Jesus has for the most part quite overshad owed his human and social significance. It has seemed more important to determine the relation of the person of Christ to the mystery of the Godhead than to determine his attitude toward the secular problems of the modern world. In fact, to many minds the personality of Jesus bears so wholly a superhuman and other-worldly aspect that there appears to be something like impiety in discussing his social doctrine at all. It is a strik ing fact that the creed which to millions sums up the essence of Christian discipleship devotes its attention so exclusively to the supernatural aspects of the drama of redemption that it makes no allu sion whatever to any incident of the human life of Jesus ; as though, for the essentials of a Christian faith, it were unimportant to recall anything that happened between the miraculous birth and the suf fering death of Christ.1 Even so profoundly rever ent and appreciative a study of the life of Jesus as was presented in the epoch-making book known as aSee the striking article in New World, June, 1899, p. 299 ff., F. A. Christie, " The Influence of the Social Question on the Genesis of Christianity." COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 55 " Ecce Homo," was regarded by many of its earlier critics, because of its emphasis on the human and ethical aspects of the life of Jesus, as bringing grave dishonor on his nature and mission, and was de scribed by the excellent Lord Shaftesbury as " the most pestilential book that has ever been vomited forth from the jaws of hell." A German theologian of the highest rank, being lately asked to explain this dearth of literature concerning the relation of Jesus to the social question, gave it as his opinion that it was the risks of ecclesiastical discipline which had driven German theologians to think of safer themes.1 It would probably be more just to refer the phenomenon to the habits of isolation and traditionalism which beset the theological mind. The interest of theological studies is so independ ent of the shifting issues of the world, and tends so often to detach the mind from the passing incidents of social life, that the theologian may find himself at last thinking of one series of ques tions while the world about him is interested in quite another series, and there may come to be hardly any contact between his professional re searches and the human needs of modern life. This, at least, is the impression made on multitudes of plain minds by the discussions which to the theo logians appear most vitally interesting. These 1 Compare, however, the new expression of responsibility in "Verhandlungen des ioten Evang.-soz. Kongresses," 1899, ». 12 ff., " Das Verhaltniss der lutherischen Kirche zur sozialen Frage," by Professor Kaftan; and remarks by Professor Harnack, s. 32. 56 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION subtle distinctions and acrimonious ecclesiastical differences are simply without interest to persons who are struggling with the tragic problems of modern poverty, social service, and political moral ity ; and to such persons the Christian Church takes on a look of unreality and misdirected energy, as though it were concerning itself with little more than what Coleridge called the problem of "superhuman ventriloquism," and existed only to exercise the ingenuity of its ministers and occupy the leisure of its adherents. Nor is this all that is likely to happen when a Christianity of dogma is confronted by an intensely practical and ethical age. The person of Jesus Christ, it is soon discovered, cannot be thus excluded, even by the preoccupation of the theological mind, from the world of the social question. No sooner does one open his New Testament than he finds Jesus teaching of social duty with the same authority with which he dis courses of Divine love. The story of the life of Jesus moves through a world of human relation ships, and he scatters on either side of his path words of refreshing and deeds of blessing for the poor, the humble, the weary and the heavy laden, the burdened and blind and sad. His gospel, as he expressly says, is twofold, and one half of it is a social message, " Thou shalt love thy neigh bour as thyself." x What wonder is it then, that, when attention is recalled to the neglected aspect 1 Matt. xxii. 39. COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 57 of the person of Jesus, this unmetaphysical, un- ecclesiastical, human, pitying friend of man, — stooping to serve the lowly and quick to rebuke the proud, — there should be a quick swing of the pendulum of opinion, and, instead of the Christ of the creeds, there should seem to be discovered a new Messiah, the Saviour of the toiling and desti tute masses of men ? What was the young man Jesus, it is asked, but a carpenter at his bench ? Who were his companions but men of what is now called the proletariat ? What words were oftener on his lips than, "Woe unto you that are rich,"1 "Blessed are ye poor"?2 What, then, is the teaching of Jesus, when it is stripped of the theo logical interpretations which have obscured it, but the gospel of a working-man's movement, the language of a social agitator, the historical anticipation of the modern programme of social I democracy ? Here is the inevitable reaction from a metaphysical Christology. The new time recalls such words as " How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God ! " 3 " Sell all that thou hast, and distribute unto the poor " ; 4 the attack upon the property-holding classes is forti fied by the thought of Dives in hell and of Laza rus contented ; and instead of a supernatural Christ, sitting at the right hand of the Father in another world, the figure which wins fresh loyalty is that of the Carpenter, the poor man's Advocate, 1 Luke vi. 24. 8 Luke xviii. 24. 2 Luke vi. 20. * Luke xviii. 22. 58 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION the greatest of socialists, or, as he has been lately called, "Jesus the Demagogue."1 The first of the modern biographers of Jesus to emphasize this view of his person and office was Renan.2 It was a part of his general modernization of the gospel to picture Jesus as having kinship with the modern labor agitator, attacking on the one hand the government and on the other hand the prosperous. "Jesus," Renan says, "was in one view an anarchist ; for he had no idea of civil government, which appeared to him an abuse pure and simple." "Pure Ebionism — that is to say, the doctrine that the poor (ebionim) alone can be saved . . . was accordingly the doctrine of Jesus." " He pardoned the rich man only when the rich man, because of some prejudice, was disliked by society." " He openly preferred people of ques tionable lives." His conception of the world was " socialist with a Galilean coloring." " A vast social revolution in which rank should be leveled and all authority brought low was his dream." The Jesus of Renan was, in short, a forerunner of the modern revolutionist, limited in the radicalism of his programme by the conditions of his social envi ronment ; and it is not surprising that this inter pretation of the gospel in terms of the modern social question has appeared to many socialist writers the final word of New Testament criticism. 1 Contemporary Review, March, 1896, p. 427 ff, W. Walsh " Jesus the Demagogue." 2 "Life of Jesus," 23d ed. (tr. J. H. Allen, 1896), pp. 170, 212, 215, 171. COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 59 The same interpretation, however, may be util ized, not to enforce the teaching of Jesus, but to condemn it. A distinguished English philosopher, accepting the gospel as a revolutionary tract, finds that characteristic not a reason for obeying the teaching of Jesus, but a reason for rejecting that teaching as impracticable and visionary. To assume that Jesus was a pious anarchist, is to dismiss his gospel as inapplicable to modern life.1 The Christian theory of self-sacrifice is, it is said, self-destructive. "If Christianity is to mean the taking the gospels as our rule of life, then we none of us are Christians, and, no matter what we say, we all know we ought not to be." " There is not one of our great moral institutions which it [the New Testament] does not ignore or condemn. The rights of property are denied or suspected, the ties of family are broken, there is no longer any nation or patriotism. . . . The morality of the primitive Christians is homeless, sexless, and nationless." "We have lived a long time now the professors of a creed which no one consistently can practise, and which, if practised would be as immoral as it is unreal." A much more sober and cautious approach to 1 International fournal of Ethics, October, 1894, F. H. Bradley, "The Limits of Individual and National Self-sacrifice." So also L. Stein, "Die soziale Frage im Lichte der Philosophie," 1897, s. 244, " Christianity is stamped with an ascetic and pessimistic character. " "It has a dark and monastic quality (etwas monchisch Finsteres), unfavorable to social and philosophical inquiries which assume a confidence in human capacity." 60 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION the social teaching of Jesus was made, somewhat before the picturesque romanticism of Renan, by a now largely forgotten, but most devoted and pains taking, German scholar, who anticipated by more than thirty years the importance which the New Testament would have in the social movement. Rudolf Todt 1 was an undistinguished pastor, who was stirred by a passing suggestion of the more famous Stocker 2 to examine with systematic care the teaching of the New Testament in its relation to the socialist programme. He found, as he believed, in the gospels, not only general princi ples, but " positive and concrete judgments for the solution of social questions." The doctrine of the New Testament deals, he affirms, " with the prob lem of the State, the rich and the poor." "Who ever would understand the social question," he writes on his first page, " and would contribute to its solution, must have on his right hand the works of political economy, on his left those of scientific socialism, and before him must keep open the New Testament." Todt proceeds to set forth in detail the various articles of the socialist creed, and con fronts each in turn with the teaching of the New 1 Todt, " Der radikale deutsche Sozialismus und die christliche Gesellschaft," 2. Aufl., 1878; " Recapitulation of the Social Doctrine of the New Testament," p. 396 ff. See also Gohre, " Die evange- lisch-soziale Bewegung," s. 10 ff.; and compare the criticism in Holtzmann " Die ersten Christen und die soziale Frage " (" Wiss. Vortrage fiber rel. Fragen," s. 21). 2 In the Neue evangelische Kirchenzeitung for 1873. See Todt, p. 1, " Die Frage ging mir durch's Herz." COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 6 1 Testament ; and concludes that " with the excep tion of its atheism . . . the theory of socialism can not be opposed from the point of view of the gos pel. Its principles not only conform to the tests of the New Testament, but contain evangehcal and Divine truths." The special form of faith assumed by the Social Democracy of Germany, appeared to Todt " unevangelical and unneces sary." Every Christian must be a Socialist, but need not be a Social Democrat. Against atheistic socialism, therefore, a Christian socialism must be organized. Todt thereupon, with Stocker and other friends, began the organization of a " Central Asso ciation for Social Reform on Religious and Con stitutional Principles," a movement which through various vicissitudes and transitions has been per petuated in the Evangelical Social Congress and the Christian Socialist party, and whose vitality has proceeded in very large degree from the pains taking study of the gospels with which it began. Finally, as the present outcome of this interpre tation of the New Testament, we reach a most stimulating and noble personality, whose teaching reverts with special emphasis to the personal influ ence of Jesus Christ. Pastor Naumann 1 of Frank fort was one of the few genuine orators of the 1 Naumann, " Das soziale Programm der evangelischen Kirche," 1891; "Was heisst Christlich-Sozial ? " 1894, ». 9 ff. ; "Jesus als Volksmann," Gottingen, Arbeiterbibliothek I, I, 1896, ss. 5, 13; "Soziale Briefe an reiche Leute," 1899; Gohre, "Die evange- lisch-soziale Bewegung," 1896, s. 163 ff. 62 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION German pulpit, and through all his preaching runs a strain of such masculine piety that his enforced withdrawal and his unpromising ventures in politi cal hfe excite most natural regret. It must not be supposed that Naumann sees in Jesus nothing more than a social reformer. On the contrary, he enters profoundly into the personal relationships of Christian faith. "Lord Jesus," he says, "we would sit at thy feet and feel what Christianity really is." Jesus Christ is " neither a philosopher nor statesman, neither physicist nor economist, . . . he brings neither conclusions nor methods. He lives, and his life is the revelation of God." Yet to Naumann the social question, with its tragedies of want and suffering, is so overwhelmingly absorb ing that he dwells with constant emphasis on the social teaching of the gospel. " Jesus is," he says, " a man of the people " ; his talk is " with constant reiteration of the rich and poor." " To save men's souls he is the enemy of wealth." "Jesus loves the rich, but he knows that their souls are free only when they are ready to throw their wealth away." He is " on moral grounds a radical enemy of capital." " What are to be the tests of the Last Judgment ? Not dogmas or confessions, but one's relation to .human need." "An age which does not feed the hungry, care for the naked, and visit the sick and the prisoners belongs in the everlasting fire." " Christianity is to help the poor." To these pas sionate utterances of Naumann it is hardly neces sary to add the more exaggerated statements of COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 63 other modern students. " Christianity," says the Itahan economist Nitti, " was a vast economic revo lution more than anything else." " Poverty was an indispensable condition for gaining admission to the kingdom of heaven." 1 With still less self-restraint an American writer advances to more sweeping generalizations. " The Sermon on the Mount," he writes, " is the science of society. It is a trea tise on political economy." "The rejection of his [Christ's] social ideal was the crucifixion he carried in his heart." "An industrial democracy would be the social actualization of Christianity. It is the logic of the Sermon on the Mount." 2 These ex travagances of exegesis indicate how sharply the pendulum of interest has swung from a Christol- ogy which ignored the social question to one which finds the social question the centre of the gospel. 1 Nitti, " Catholic Socialism," 1895, pp. 58, 64. 2 Herron, " The New Redemption," pp. 30, 34, 80 ; compare p. 143, " The worst charge that can be made against a Christian is that he attempts to justify the existing social order." See also the other writings of this self-sacrificing advocate of revolution, e.g. : " The Larger Christianity ; " " A Plea for the Gospel ; " " Between Caesar and Jesus." "No man can read the Gospel himself without seeing that Jesus regarded industrial wealth as a moral fall and a social violence." "The Church as a whole does not know what Jesus taught, and so far as it knows does not believe his teaching practicable," " Between Caesar and Jesus," p. 107. " I dread noth ing more than the influence upon the social movement of existing organizations of religion," Boston Address, 1895. "If we would follow Jesus in the social redemption, it will be by storming the citadel of monopoly." " We can only save the people from being ground to profit by capturing the ' machine,' " The Industrialist, July, 1899. 64 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION Indeed, as has been lately suggested, it would not be difficult, under these principles of interpretation, to re-edit the New Testament as a socialist tract.1 Jesus drove, we may suppose, the swine into the sea in order to testify his indifference to the insti tution of private property. When meeting the multitude his first care is to feed them, in order to indicate the precedence of economic problems over spiritual questions. He scourges the money changers from the temple in order to bear public witness against capitalism and its sins. However unfounded in history such a conception of the person of Christ may be, it is welcomed with enthusiasm by great numbers of plain people. For the Church and the theologians, the modern revolu tionist has, as we have already seen, scant respect. The Church is to him the bulwark of the property- holding class, and the theologians are distracting the minds of the unfortunate by promises of pros perity elsewhere. "We'll give them back some of their heaven," said Felix Holt, " and take it out in something for us and our children in this world." For the person of Jesus, on the other hand, re garded as a working-man, a friend of the poor, an outcast, a preacher of condemnation against scribes and Pharisees, the working-class movement offers fresh reverence and homage. The real Jesus seems indeed, to many hand-workers, to have been redis covered by them, as though beneath some mediae val fresco of an unreal and mystical Christ there 1 Contemporary Review, March, 1896. COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 65 had been freshly laid bare the features of the man of Nazareth. "Christ," answered one German working-man to an inquirer, "was a true friend of the working-people, not in his words alone, like his followers, but in his deeds. He was hated and persecuted as is the modern socialist, and if he lived to-day he would, without doubt, be one of us." 1 " Christ," wrote another, " was a great revolutionist ; if any one now preached as he did, he would be arrested." "He would have accomplished more/' adds a third, " if he had given his efforts rather to economic and scientific ends than to religion." " He was a man of the common people," concludes a fourth, " who fought a hard fight for their moral and economic welfare." In short, it has come to pass, as the author of the " Kernel and the Husk " anticipated, that the hand-workers are saying, " We used to think that Christ was a fiction of the priests ; . . . but now we find that he was a man, after all, like us, — a poor working-man, who had a heart for the poor, — and now that we under stand this we say ... he is the man for us." 2 \ Here, then, is a perplexing situation. To a vast 1 See the exceedingly interesting series of opinions collected by Pastor Rade, in his paper before the Ninth Evangelical Social Con gress, 1898, "Die Gedankenwelt unserer Industriearbeiter." Com pare also Pfluger, "Kirche und Proletariat," 1899, s. 4: "The first proclaimers of the gospel, especially Jesus himself, belonged to the proletariat; ... the preachers of the gospel to-day belong to ' good society.' " 2 "The Kernel and the Husk" (Am. ed. 1887), p. 334 (quoted also, Contemporary Revieiv, March, 1896, p. 429). F 66 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION majority of those who are most concerned with the social question, the Christ of the churches is an object of complete indifference, if not of positive scorn ; while to a Christ far removed from the traditions and creeds of Christian worship, — an unmysterious, human leader of the poor, — there is given an honor which as a supernatural being he no longer receives. On the other hand, to the vast majority of Christian worshippers this concep tion of Jesus as a labor-leader and social revolu-i tionist appears a most inadequate and unhistorical; picture of the Christ of the gospels. What havei we here but a clean break between the tradition' of the past and the need of the present ? On the one hand is the ancient and precious story of the relation of Jesus to the individual soul, hii revelation of the Father to the child, and his revel lation of the child to himself, his message to the religious hfe in its experiences of sin, repentance, and spiritual peace ; and on the other hand is this new and unprecedented appreciation of the exter-\ nal ills of environment and misfortune, of social wrong and injustice, and the discovery that here also Jesus Christ has a message of stern rebuke and pitying love. Is there, then, a permanent chasm set between the work of the Christian Church and the need of the modern world ? Is there no unity to be discovered beneath these di verse conceptions of the teaching of Jesus ? Must it happen that the force of the Christian religion shall be limited to spiritual and personal renewal, COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 67 and shall have no part in directing the social move ment of the time ; or if, on the other hand, the person of Jesus finds a place in the social ques tion, must it be at the cost of his spiritual leader ship and religious significance ? Must we choose between Christ the Saviour and Jesus the Dema gogue ; or is there in the religion of Jesus a qual ity and character which of themselves create a social message such as the modern world needs to hear ? These are the questions which confront one as he observes the alienation between Chris tian teaching and social needs, and which invite to fresh inquiry concerning the social teaching of the gospel. 1 1The literature which is of importance in its new appreciation of the social teaching of Jesus may be said to begin with the " Ecce Homo " of Professor Seeley, 1867. The main thesis of this re markable book — that Jesus was the founder of an external and legislative commonwealth — may be regarded as an inadequate or even a misleading statement of the purpose of Christ ("Christ announced himself as the Founder, the Legislator, of a new State," p. 80 ; " To reorganize a society and to bind the members of it together by the closest ties were the business of his life," p. 103 ; "The first propelling power ... is the personal relation of loyal vassalage of the citizens to the Prince of the Theocracy," p. 95). Yet the extraordinary insight of this book into the spirit of the gospels and its beauty and vigor of expression make its publication an epoch in the interpretation of the teaching of Jesus. A second contribution of much originality and power was the Bampton Lectures of Canon Fremantle, "The World the Subject of Redemption," 1885 (2d ed. 1895, with an introduction by Pro fessor R. T. Ely, and with important appendices of illustrative liter ature). Less academic, but of the highest spiritual insight, and of an importance not generally recognized by his readers, are the Bohlen Lectures of Phillips Brooks, " The Influence of Jesus," 1879. 68 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION Two considerations give to such an inquiry a peculiar interest and encouragement. In the first place, as is evident from what has been already Closer to the modern social spirit, more exegetical in character, and for the general student a sufficient guide, is the thorough and dis criminating book of Shailer Mathews, "The Social Teaching of Jesus," 1897. (Compare also his article in the American fournal of Sociology, January, 1900, " The Christian Church and Social Unity.") Of German literature, specifically devoted to this subject, the only comprehensive work lately produced is the learned but con servative book of .M. von Nathusius, " Die Mitarbeit der Kirche an der Losung der sozialen Frage," 2. Aufl., 1897; see also his " Christlich-soziale Ideen der Reformationszeit," 1897. Of less systematic German studies may be named : Schmidt- Warneck, " Die sozialen Verhaltnisse und die ethischen Grundgedanken des Evan- geliums," 1891 ; Uhlhorn, "Vermischte Vortrage fiber kirchliches Leben," 1875 (s- 353fT-, "Zur sozialen Frage"); Bohmer, "Bren- nende Zeit- und Streitfragen der Kirche," 1898 ; Sabatier, " Die Religion und die moderne Kultur " (ubersetzt aus dem Franzosi- schen), 1898 ; Russland, "Die Wirtschaftspolitik des Vaterunsers," 1895. Further should be noticed the increasing emphasis on the social aspects of the gospel in the general works of New Testament inter pretation: e.g. Wendt, " The Teaching of Jesus" (tr. 1897); Bey- schlag, "New Testament Theology" (tr. 1895); Weiss, " Biblical Theology of New Testament" (tr. 1882), I, 62 ff.; Bruce, "The Kingdom of God," 1891; and Gilbert, "The Revelation of Jesus," 1899. Here also may be named less formal studies of the influences of Christianity on modern life : e.g. Fairbairn, " The Place of Christ in Modern Theology," p. 515 ff. ; and his " Religion in History and in Modern Life," 1894, Lect. Ill ; Gore, "The Social Doctrine of the Sermon on the Mount" {Economic Review, April, 1892); Rade, " Die Religion im modernen Geistesleben," 1898, and his " Reli gion und Moral," 1898 ; Soderblom, "Die Religion und die soziale Entwickelung," 1898 ; Church, " Christ's Words and Christian Society," in his " Gifts of Civilization," 1880, p. 39 ; G. Hodges, COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 69 said, we here approach the one subject in Chris tian teaching where, on both sides of the present social issue, there is sincere appreciation and rev erence. The theology of Christianity, as the slight est glance at its present tendency will indicate, is laying aside its confidence in metaphysical defini tions and elaborate formulas, and with a new humility of mind is turning to the simpler task of interpreting and perpetuating the teaching of Jesus Christ. " The Church hears none but Christ," said the earlier and broader statement of this return to the gospels ; the modern spirit, with more simplicity, inquires, " What would Jesus say ? " To follow Christ, even though one cannot adequately define him ; to be, not of those who name his name alone, but of those who desire to do his will ; to direct the life of one's own soul and the life of the world in ways of which Jesus might say, "Well done, good and faithful servant," — these principles, to the modern Christian, are not inci dental to the Christian life, but are the essence of " Faith and Social Service," 1896 ; E. W. Donald, " The Expansion of Religion," 1898 ; R. T. Ely, "Social Aspects of Christianity," 1889 ; J. LI. Davies, "The Gospel of Modern Life," 1875, and his "Social Questions," 1885 ; "The Message of Christ to Manhood," Noble Lectures, 1895 i Flint, " Socialism," 1895 (supplementary note, " The Church's Call to study Social Questions," p. 493 ff.) ; Washington Gladden, "Applied Christianity," 1886, and his "Tools and the Man," 1893; Westcott, "Social Aspects of Christianity," 1887; Harris, "Moral Evolution," 1896, Ch. IX and X; Drum- mond, "Via, Veritas, Vita," The Hibbert Lectures for 1894, Lect. VI, p. 209 ff.; Lyman Abbott, " Christianity and Social Problems," 1897. JO JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION it ; and this discernment and obedience, even when accompanied by a high degree of ignorance as to the interior nature of the Godhead and the pur poses of the Infinite, may still, it is now widely believed, receive the great word of acceptance, "Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace."1 And if it is thus true that the imitation of Christ has supplanted opinion about Christ as the test of Christian discipleship, it is equally true, on the other hand, that the social movement also has reached a point of peculiar reverence for the person of Jesus. Inadequate and superficial as may be the estimate on which this reverence is based, it gives a point of contact between the Church and the world. The ecclesiastics may argue their claim to authority, and the theologians may devise their systems of orthodoxy; yet all these assumptions and deliberations will wholly fail to impress the people of the trades-unions, or the social democracy of the city slums. Let the social teaching of the gospels, however, be told — ever so simply — with its tender summons, " Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden," 2 with its test of discipleship, " Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of these my brethren, even these least, ye did it unto me," 3 and the heavy laden and those who are least in the modern world become responsive to the teaching, and touched with reverence for the person whom they thus dimly discern. Hopeless, therefore, as one may 1 Luke vii. 50. 2 Matt. xi. 28. 8 Matt. xxv. 40, 41, COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 71 be of coming to any understanding with the social movement through the prevailing methods of Chris tianity, there is still ground for hope that the teach ing of Jesus may have new adaptations to the need of the new time. The talk of the churches is for the most part in a language as unintelligible as Hebrew to the modern hand-worker; but in the teaching of Jesus he seems to hear the welcome accents of a familiar tongue. A common rever ence may beget a mutual understanding. The Christian believer and the social reformer may perhaps meet each other as they both approach the simplicity which is in Christ.1 To this characteristic of the present inquiry must be added a further encouraging consideration. The problem to which we are invited, of determining the relation of the teaching of Jesus to the special needs of the real world, is in its nature not, as may be supposed, a new problem, but a continu ally recurring one. Each period in civilization has had, in turn, its own peculiar interest and its own spiritual demands, and each, in turn, following its own path back to the teaching of Jesus, has found there what seemed an extraordinary adapta tion of that teaching to immediate issues and needs. This is one of the most surprising traits of the 1 G5hre, "Drei Monate Fabrikarbeiter," 1891, ». 190. "Only one quality (of religion) remains — respect and reverence for Jesus Christ. It is, indeed, a new picture of Jesus of Nazareth. He lacks the supernatural light in his eyes, the divinity assigned to him by the theologians is a subject for smiles ; . . . but they all stand reverently and quiet before his great personality." 72 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION gospel. It seems to each age to have been written for the sake of the special problems which at the moment appear most pressing. As each new transition in human interest occurs, the teaching of Jesus seems to possess new value. In one age the focus of human interest was at that point where the Greek mind met the Hebrew tra dition, and developed the beginning of Christian theology ; and to that age there spoke the great say ings of Jesus concerning his relation to the Father, as though the determination of the place of Jesus in theology were the essence of the gospel. To another age, absorbed in ecclesiastical development, the teaching of Jesus seemed specially directed to establishing the organization of the Church. This illumination of each view and tendency is felt in turn by each modern student of the gospels as he considers from some fresh point of view the teach ing of Jesus. One scholar, on the watch — as was Renan — for the picturesque and Oriental traits of a Galilean peasant, finds in the visionary hopes of such a youth a key to the teaching of Jesus ; another scholar, with the habit of mind of a con stitutional historian, sees in the teaching of Jesus primarily the work of the framer of a constitution, and defines his mission as " the rise of a monarchy, the purest and most ideal that has ever existed among men " ; 1 still another scholar, profoundly impressed by the note of melancholy and despair which is heard in modern literature, turns again to i " Ecce Homo," Ch. X, " Christ's Legislation." COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 73 this same teaching of Jesus, and finds its central quality to be "A Gospel for an Age of Doubt."1 Does this divergence of impression mean that each age and each scholar creates a new Christ, and that what seems to be a historical figure is in real ity only the reflection of the inquirer's mind thrown upon the screen of the past ? Is it only the pious imaginations of successive students which make of Jesus now the source of a theology and now the founder of a church, now peasant, now king, now the deliverer from doubt? On the contrary, the life of Jesus has, in fact, all these aspects, and indeed many more ; and it is not as false inter preters, but as partial witnesses, that men stand in their own place and report that view of the gospel which presents itself to their minds. This extraor dinary capacity for new adaptations, this quality of comprehensiveness in the teaching of Jesus, which so many evidences of the past illustrate, prepares us in our turn for its fresh applicability to the question which most concerns the present age. As it has happened a thousand times before, so it is likely to happen again, that the gospel, examined afresh with a new problem in mind, will seem again to have been written in large part to meet the needs of the new age. Words and deeds which other generations have found perplexing or obscure may be illuminated with meaning, as one now sees them in the light of the new social agita tion and hope. It will seem, perhaps, as it has 1 Henry Van Dyke, "The Gospel for an Age of Doubt," 1896. 74 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION seemed so often before, that no other age could have adequately appreciated the teaching of Jesus ; as if his prophetic mind must have looked across the centuries and discerned the distant coming of social conflicts and aspirations which in his own time were insignificant, but which are now uni versal and profound. Such is the comprehensiveness of the teaching of Jesus. A great modern preacher has de scribed this power of adaptation in the parable of the fairy tent.1 Set in the king's palace, this magic enclosure was not too large for the smallest room ; placed in the court-yard, it was large enough to shelter all the nobles; brought out upon the plain, it grew to cover the whole army of the king; there was "infinite flexibility, in finite expansiveness." Jesus himself, according to the fourth gospel, with still greater suggestive- ness, repeatedly describes his mission through the parable of the light. "I am," he says, "the light of the world " ; 2 "I am come a light into the world " ; 3 " Yet a little while is the light among you ; walk while ye have the light." * Light is by its very nature comprehensive, trans missible, ubiquitous. There is not too much for each man's need, and yet there is enough for all. Each separate chamber seems to have all the sun shine, while the unexhausted light radiates into a million other homes. It is the same with the in- 1 Stopford Brooke, " Religion in Modern Life," first sermon. 2 John viii. 12. 8 John xii. 46. * John xii. 35, COMPREHENSIVENESS OF THE TEACHING 75 fluence of Jesus Christ. Each new age or move ment or personal desire seems to itself to receive with a pecuhar fulness its special teaching, and it is quite true that a direct ray of communication and illumination enters that chamber of the mind which reaches no other point. It is as if one stood at night watching the moon rise from the sea, and saw the glittering band of light which leads straight to him, as though the moon were shining for one hfe alone ; while in fact he knows that its comprehensive radiation is for him, and for the joy and guidance of a world besides. So the unex hausted gospel of Jesus touches each new problem and new need with its illuminating power, while there yet remain myriads of other ways of radia tion toward other souls and other ages, for that Life which is the hght of men. CHAPTER II THE SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING OF JESUS JFor their aakts I sancttfg mgself . We turn to the story of the gospels, inquiring for the relation of the teaching of Jesus to various social questions of the present age. Before enter ing, however, into the details of such an inquiry, it may be of advantage to survey the story as a whole, and to consider whether there are any gen eral characteristics or principles which lie plainly on the face of the gospels, and which indicate the habitual attitude of the mind of Jesus toward such problems of social reform. On opening the gospels with this general pur pose in mind, one is immediately impressed by the abundance of material presented. Jesus was no recluse or ascetic. He lived in a world of social intimacies, problems and companionships. The first act of his ministry was to gather about him an intimate group of friends through whose asso ciated activity his teaching was to be perpetuated. He entered with unaffected and equal sympathy into the joys and the sorrows of social life.1 He was familiar with the most various social types, 1 John ii. I-II ; xi. 1-44. 76 SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING JJ fishermen 1 and Pharisees,2 tax-gatherers 3 and beg gars,4 Jews 5 and Romans,6 saints 7 and sinners.8 Almost every social question known to his age was in some form brought before him, either to receive his judgment or to make a snare for his teaching. The integrity of the family, the rela tions of rich and poor, the responsibilities of the prosperous, — all these, which seem to be mod ern questions, receive from Jesus reiterated and often stern consideration, so that it would seem to be a matter of slight difficulty to determine from such ample material the character of his social teaching. There are, however, several aspects of his min istry which must be clearly recognized before this teaching can be interpreted in its full significance or scope. In the first place, as one sums up his general impression of the gospels, it becomes 'obvious that, whatever social teaching there may , be in them, and however weighty it may be, the mind of the Teacher was primarily turned another way. The supreme concern of Jesus throughout his ministry was, — it may be unhesitatingly as serted, — not the reorganization of human society, but the disclosure to the human soul of its relation to God. Jesus was, first of all, not aj^ormer, but a revealer ; he was not primarily an agitator 1 Matt. iv. 18. 6 John iii. i. 2 Acts xxiii. 6. 6 Matt. viii. 5. 8 Matt. ix. 9 ; Luke v. 27. 7 Luke x. 42. * Mark x. 46 ; John ix. 1. 8 Luke xix. 7 ; vii. 37. 78 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION with a plan, but an idealist with a vision. His mission was religious. His central desire was to make plain to human souls the relatiQn in which they stand to their heavenly Father. " Lord, shew us the Father," say the disciples, "and it sufficeth us."1 " The gospel," as a great German scholar remarks, "is not one of social improve ment, but one of spiritual redemption." 2 Still further, there was at times in the spiritual attitude of Jesus a certain quality of remoteness and detachment from the social problems which were presented to his mind. He refused to be entangled in them. Distribution of property was not within his province: "Man," he says, "who made me a judge or a divider over you ? " 3 Forms of government were not for him to change : " Render therefore unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's." i There was political oppression about him to be remedied, there were social unrighteous ness and iniquity to be condemned ; but Jesus does not fling himself into these social issues of his time. He moves through them with a strange tranquillity, not as one who is indifferent to them, but as one whose eye is fixed on an end in which these social problems will find their own solution. The social questions met him, as it were, on his way, and his dealing with them is occasional and unsystematic. Sometimes, when confronted with 1 John xiv. 8. 2 A. Harnack, 5ter Evang.-soz. Kongress, s. 1 20. 8 Luke xii. 14. 4 Matt. xxii. 21. SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING 79 such a question, he turns from it to the question of spiritual motive which lies beneath the social demand. He is asked to deal with the special problem of inheritance, and his answer opens the larger question of the love of money : " Take heed, and keep yourselves from all covetousness." 1 In short, Jesus will not be diverted by the demand for a social teaching from the special message of j spiritual renewal which he is called to bring. In many of the processes of applied science, there are certain results known as by-products, which are thrown off or precipitated on the way to the special result desired. It may happen that these by-products are of the utmost value ; but none the less they are obtained by the way. Such a by product is the social teaching of Jesus. It was not the end toward which his mission was directed ; it came about as he fulfilled that mission. To reconstruct the gospels so as to make them pri marily a programme of social reform is to mistake the by-product for the end specifically sought, and, in the desire to find a place for Jesus within the modern age, to forfeit that which gives him his place in all ages.2 To this characteristic of the teaching of Jesus must be added another which has equal signifi cance in its bearing on the social question. It is 1 Luke xii. 15. 2 See also " The Message of Christ to Manhood," Noble Lectures, 1898, II, F. G. Peabody, "The Message of Christ to Human Society," p. 66. 80 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION the occasionalism of his teaching. Jesus was not the maker of a system. He considers each case by itself. He is not posing at every turn as though the future were listening to him. He gives him self, with complete disinterestedness, to the single person or special group or specific case before him. " Jesus," says Wendt, " was not a scientific teacher, but a popular preacher. He did not pre sent his practical demands in abstract form and systematic development. He applied them to those persons with whom he had directly to do, and to their concrete relations and needs; . . . without qualifying them by limitations and condi tions which might come into notice from other points of view." 1 In short, Jeju^_Js_jDr2marily thinking of individuals. The initial impulse of his word and workis"th*is thought of the preciousness of personality. The shepherd leaves the ninety and nine sheep and seeks the one that is lost ; 2 the woman sweeps the house to find the one piece of money.3 General principles issue indeed from the discourse of Jesus, as an aroma rises from a rose ; but the source of this pervasive fragrance is in that special and individual flower which blooms in his conversation or his deeds. The teaching of Jesus, being thus fragmentary, is often, in its details, inconsistent. One who proposes to follow literally the specific commands 1 6ter Evang.-soz. Kongress, 1897, "Das Eigentum nach christ- licher Beurteilung," s. 23. 2 Matt, xviii. 12. s Luke xv. 8. SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING 8 1 of Jesus finds himself immediately plunged into contradictions or absurdities. He accepts the teaching of Jesus concerning non-resistance : " To him that smiteth thee on the one cheek offer also the other -,"1 but soon he hears this same counsellor of peace bid his friends sell their garments " and buy a sword." 2 He joins with the modern agitator in repeating the passionate rebuke of Jesus, "Woe unto you that are rich;" and then he looks again and sees the same Jesus meeting the young man who had great posses sions, and loving him. He proposes to abandon all luxury and domestic peace in order to fol low him who " hath not where to lay his head ; " 3 and then he looks again and finds this same Jesus serenely sharing the gayety of a wedding feast4 and the peace of a comfortable home.6 To inter pret, therefore, the teaching of Jesus there is needed more than wilhngness of heart. The study of the gospels calls for common sense. In fact, the devotion to the letter of the New Testament is one of the chief impediments to the perception of its spirit. The very essence of its interpretation lies in the discernment, through the medium of detached utterances, of the general habit of mind of the Teacher. Jesus himself repeatedly intimated that he required this thoughtfulness in his disciples. Those who had ears to hear,6 he said, could receive his teaching, but to others it 1 Luke vi. 29. 3 Matt. viii. 20. 6 John xi. 6. 2 Luke xxii. 36. 4 John ii. 2. 6 Mark iv. 9. G 82 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION was not given to understand. His teaching was like that of the artist, who does not argue concern ing beauty, but utters it, in color or in form, and leaves the problem of appreciation for those who can hear or see. He throws his truth into the world for those who can receive it. " Go, . . ." he says to those who ask for his doctrine, " and tell John what things ye have seen and heard." 1 By his teaching concerning specific cases the dis ciples are trained in a certain habit of mind, which in its turn interprets other cases as they arise. It is as Jesus promised that it should be to those who followed him : " When he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he shall guide you into all the truth."2 Thus the problem presented to a hearer of Jesus in his own time, or to a reader of his words in the present time, is to receive the teaching of Jesus in the light of the special circumstances and sugges tions which prompted it, and to deduce therefrom the general principle which this teaching represents. " If," as Wendt again remarks, " we examine the recorded words of Jesus in an isolated way, we find more than one meaning apparently possible, and are able to decide with certainty for one of those meanings by virtue of our knowledge of the mode of teaching acquired by extensive observation in other cases."3 The study of the law has been of 1 Luke vii. 22. 2 John xvi. 1 3. 8 "Teaching of Jesus" (tr. 1897), T> P- IC,6. Compare also Paulsen, "Ethik," s. 72, "The universal applicability of the gospel proceeds from the fact that it is not a philosophical or theological SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING 83 late in a great degree transformed by the introduc tion of what is known as the case-system. Instead of lectures on the fundamental principles of juris prudence, the learner is now confronted with de tached and genuine cases, from scrutinizing which, in their likeness and variations, he is encouraged to deduce the principles which they combine to illustrate. Something like this is the method in which are communicated the principles of the teaching of Jesus. They are not unfolded in a philosophical system, but are involved in the treatment of specific cases ; and to the observant student this occasionalism of the teaching of Jesus is precisely what gives it a perennial freshness, vitality and force.1 Here, then, are two characteristics of the gospel which would seem in some degree to obscure its social teaching, — an evident subordination of social problems, and an equally evident limi tation of instruction to specific instances and occa sions. Jesus speaks chiefly of God, and speaks chiefly to the individual. It would seem, then, as if we must have been misled in anticipating from him a clear and impressive teaching concerning the social world. If Jesus was not primarily de voted to the social question, and if again his teach- system. Systems pass away, . . . but great poems are as eternal as their subject — human hfe itself." 1 Compare also the interesting proposition to apply the same method to the study of medicine: W. B. Cannon, "The Case- method of teaching Systematic Medicine," Boston Medical and Surgical Journal, January n, 1900. 84 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION ing was chiefly personal and occasional instead of systematic and universal, is it not difficult to derive from it any general principles which shall be appli cable to the problems of modern social life ? On the contrary, one must answer, it is precisely these two characteristics, his relation to God and his rela tion to the individual, the loftiness of his Theism and the precision of his occasionalism, which open, as we consider them, into the social principles of the teaching of Jesus. On the one hand, this tranquil elevation of mind above the social issues of his day is what gives to Jesus his wisdom and insight concerning them. He only truly sees things who sees round them and beyond them. Breadth of wisdom requires a large horizon of the mind. The man of details is shut in by them, so that they obstruct rather than enlarge his view. The wise physician deals best with the sick man, not by being a participator in the emotion and distress involved in the single case, but by detaching himself from them and examining the single case with the tranquillity and self-control of a broader view. The wise general does not throw himself into the smoke of battle, but stands apart from it and above it, where he can survey and direct the whole. The wise coun sellor is he who stands above the issue which calls for judgment and sees it in the perspective of a wide experience. Sometimes it happens that the highest wisdom in affairs of the practical world is an endowment of the most unworldly men. They SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING 85 see into life by seeing over it, and men of business turn to such advisers for counsel because of the horizon which their judgments survey.1 This quality of wisdom is not the trait most commonly associated with the life of Jesus. His tenderness of heart has obscured from obser vation his sagacity of mind. Yet one cannot approach his dealings with the questions which were brought to him without being impressed by this quality of insight, foresight, comprehensive ness, wisdom. The traditions of the Church as cribe to Jesus almost every other virtue rather than that of sagacity. He is the type of submis sion and resignation. His features, as portrayed by Christian art, represent, almost invariably, a feminine, spiritual, patient personality, not one that is virile, commanding and strong. He has become the ideal of the monastic and ascetic char acter, and in many minds would have no consid eration as a wise guide in practical affairs. A more careful study of the teaching of Jesus leads to quite an opposite impression. He was indeed a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, but he was none the less truly a man of wisdom and acquainted with human nature. His sanity of judgment is as extraordinary as his depth of sym- 1 Compare also Seneca, " De dementia," II, 6, " He will dry another's tears, but will not weep with him. . . . This he will do with calmness of mind, and with an unchanged countenance." (Succuret alienis lacrimis, non accedet. . . . Faciet ista tranquillS mente, voltu suo.) And the saying of Neander (Preface to Vinet's " Socialisme " ), " Um sich hinzugeben, muss man sich angehoren." 86 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION pathy. The first impression made by the boy Jesus on those who met him was of his budding wisdom ; he " advanced in wisdom and stature." 1 The first comment of many hearers upon his teaching concerned its sagacity : " Whence hath this man this wisdom?"2 Christian art and rever ence, in remembering the prophecy fulfilled in him, "In all their affliction he was afflicted,"3 has forgotten that other hope of a just and discrimi nating guide, which was equally fulfilled in him : " The government shall be upon his shoulder : and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor; "4 " and the spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding."5 The picture of Jesus which Christian art has yet to paint is that of the masculine Christ, a personahty who teaches with authority, and whose large hori zon gives him comprehensiveness of view. Jesus himself testified whence this wisdom came. It was, he said, his detachment from the world which gave him insight concerning the things of the world. " And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto myself."6 His leadership in the affairs of earth comes of his being lifted up from it; his religious mission created his social authority. At the end of his ministry he prom ises to his disciples that their power for social service shall be enriched by the continuity of relationship which he was to bear to the life of 1 Luke ii. 52. 8 Is. lxiii. 9. 6 Is. xi. 2. 8 Matt, xiii. 54. * Is. ix. 6. 8 John xii. 32. SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING 87 God : " Greater works than these shall he do, because I go unto the Father." 1 It is said of Count Zinzendorf, the pious nobleman who wel comed the exiled Moravians to his home, that as a young man he could ride the wildest horse in his father's stables ; and on being asked how it could happen that one could be at the same time a pietist and an athlete, he answered, " Only he to whom earthly things are indifferent becomes their master." 2 There was this masterly quality in the social teaching of Jesus. Instead of being en tangled by social questions, he moved through them with a quiet authority and even a delicate irony. His conversation was in heaven; therefore the world was at his feet. Here is one of the most striking contrasts be tween the teaching of Jesus and that of the prophets of the Old Testament. They threw themselves into the midst of the struggle for national righteousness, exhorting, rebuking, upbraiding their people as they wavered or retreated into wrong ; Jesus surveys this struggle, as it were, from above, as an incident of the great campaign of God. The prophets wrestled with the waves of social agitation ; Jesus walked upon them. The difference was not so much one of social intention as of social horizon. The work of a reformer is for his own age ; that of a revealer for all ages. The social teaching of Jesus is universal, precisely because it was a by product, issuing from his universal teaching of the 1 John xiv. 12. 2Nathusius (op. cit.), s. 317, note. 88 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION life of God in the soul of man. Jesus looks at the social world from above, and that point of view gives him courage, optimism, comprehensiveness, vision, hope. The second characteristic of the gospels which we have noticed is not less fruitful in social con sequences. Jesus, as we have seen, primarily addressed himself in his teaching to individual cases and immediate ends. Once only, and that at the beginning of his ministry, and to his selected group of personal disciples, does he approach any thing like a formal announcement of what may be called general principles.1 For the most part he uses a " case-system " ; he discourses with a few ; he heals people one at a time ; he lavishes his richest instruction on individuals ; and finally, having attached to his teaching only a handful of plain people, he gives back his work to the Father with a strange sense of completeness in it. " It is finished," 2 he says ; " Having accomplished the work which thou hast given me to do."3 He is not only indifferent to numbers, but often seems disinclined to deal with numbers. He sends the multitudes away ; he goes apart into a mountain with his chosen disciples ; 4 he withdraws himself from the throng in Jerusalem to the quiet home at Bethany ; 6 he discourses of the profoundest purpose of his mission with the twelve in an upper room ; 6 he opens the treasures of his 1 Matt, v-vii. 8 John xvii. 4. 6 John xii, 1. 2 John xix. 30. * Matt. xvii. 1. 6 Luke xxii. 12-38. SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING 89 wisdom before, one Pharisee at night,1 and one unresponsive woman by the well.2 What does this extraordinary individualization of teaching in dicate as to the attitude of Jesus toward social reform ? It indicates the instrument to which he was willing to trust his hope for the world. What he had to give he gave to individuals, to be given again through individuals. "As the Father has sent me," he says, "even so send I you."3 His way of approach to the life of his age was not by external organization or mass-movements or force of numbers, or in any way from without; but by interior inspiration, by the quickening of individuals, by the force of personality, or, so to speak, from within. When one considers the traditions and hopes of his people, and the sense of capacity in him self of which he must have been aware, it is simply amazing that Jesus did not put himself at the head of a movement, or establish an organization, or direct his teaching to the whole sale conversion of the multitude. Yet hardly any problem of exegesis is more difficult than to dis cover in the gospels an administrative or organiz ing or ecclesiastical Christ. On the contrary, there is, in his teaching, a remarkable quality of reserve and privacy. Sometimes he charges his hearers not to tell what he has said or done.4 He interprets privately to his friends the teaching 1 John iii. I-2I. ' John iv. 7-29. 8 John xx. 21. 4 Matt. viii. 4 ; Mark viii. 26 ; Luke v. 14 ; Matt. xvii. 9. 90 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION which others have not understood.1 Never did a popular leader leave his work so little systema tized. The sense of incompleteness in it gave his friends in his last days a sense of bewildered help lessness. The only light they had was in his life, and when he told them that it was expedient for them that he should go away, the light seemed to them to go out.2 " But we hoped," they said, " that it was he which should redeem Israel." 3 He had given them no indication of the external form which should issue from his teaching. He trusted to the capacity of individuals, if only their hearts should have received the spirit of truth, to deal with problems of form and organization as they arrived. In short, instead of regeneration by organization, Jesus offers regeneration by inspira tion. He was not primarily the deviser of a social system, but the quickener of single lives. His gift is not that of form, but that of life. " I came," he says', " that they may have life " ; 4 " The words that I have spoken unto you are spirit, and are life " ; B " Because I live, ye shall live also." 6 The communication of vitality, the contagion of per sonality, the transmission of character, — these are the ends he seeks, and these are possible only through that individualization of teaching which marks his ministry. As Phillips Brooks once said, "Jesus was not primarily the Deed-Doer, or the 1 Mark iv. 34. * John x. 10. 2 John xvi. 7. 6 John vi. 63. 8 Luke xxiv. 21. 6 John xiv. 19. SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING 9 1 Word-Sayer, he was the Life-Giver." 1 Even of himself and of his own mission, he announces that it begins with the individual. " For their sakes," he says, I do not, first of all, organize an associated life or announce a scheme of salva tion ; but, first of all, " I sanctify myself." 2 Jesus, in short, not only surveys human life from above, but he approaches it from within. These two quahties, however, of social wisdom and social power, are not the only principles which govern the social teaching of Jesus. Indeed, they are but introductory to the most conspicuous and central of his social principles. Beyond the point of view from which he looks at the world, and the instrument to which he intrusts his work for the world, lies his ideal for the world, — a social ideal whose significance and scope are to be interpreted only when one has first recognized that Jesus sur veys life from above and approaches it from within. This social ideal, which presents itself continu ously and vividly to the mind of Jesus, is summed up in that phrase which occurs more than a hun dred times in the first three gospels, — the " king dom of heaven," or the "kingdom of God." 3 From 1 Noble Lectures, 1898, I. A. V. G. Allen, "The Message of Christ to the Individual Man," p. 18. Compare also the sermon of J. H. Newman, " Personal Influence the Means of propagating the Truth." 2 John xvii. 19. 8 The two titles appear to be practically identical in signification. Beyschlag, " New Testament Theology," I, 42, " That both expres sions mean the same thing is manifest from the parallels oT Matthew 92 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION the beginning of the ministry of Jesus to its close, this is the subject of his prophecy, parable and prayer. "Jesus," begins the gospel of Mark, " came into Galilee, preaching the gospel of God and saying, The time is fulfilled and the king dom of God is at hand." 1 The kingdom was the one end to be desired ; it was the pearl of great price for which all else might be sold;2 it was the piece of money to find which the house was diligently swept ; 3 it was to be the theme of daily prayer for the followers of Jesus : "Thy kingdom come."4 It is a phrase which, on the face of the record, is often obscure, and which in different passages appears to have in consistent meanings. The kingdom is described as both a present and a future state, as both an inward and an outward condition. Now it seems to be a remote and glorious consummation of the Messiah's reign in the day of the last things : "Then shall appear the sign of the Son of man in heaven : and then shall all the tribes of the earth . . . see the Son of man coming on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory." 5 Again, it is obviously not remote and supramun- dane, but near and of this world : " There be some here of them that stand by, which shall in on the one hand and of Mark and Luke on the other." For pos sible grounds of the variation in use see the interesting note in Wendt, "Teaching of Jesus," I, 370 ff. 1 Mark i. 14, 15. 2 Matt. xiii. 46. 8 Luke xv. 8. * Matt. vi. 10. » Matt. xxiv. 30. SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING 93 no wise taste of death, till they see the kingdom of God come with power." 1 Yet again, it is a silent, spiritual, immanent presence : " The king dom of God cometh not with observation : neither shall they say, Lo, here! or, There! for lo, the kingdom of God is within you." 2 What unity of teaching is it possible to discover within these apparently conflicting and incompat ible aspects of the kingdom ? 3 In the first place, certain difficulties of interpretation may be re moved by recalling the circumstances under which the teaching of Jesus was given. The phrase was famihar to his hearers. It summed up to their minds the fulfilment of their national hopes and of their Messianic dreams.* Yet to the Hebrews themselves it had become a confused and waver- xMark ix. 1. 2 Luke xvii. 20, 21. 8 The history of modern interpretations of the doctrine of the kingdom is told in detail by Schnedermann, " Jesu Verkfindigung und Lehre vom Reiche Gottes," I, 86 ff. The conclusion of the author which, he remarks (s. 173), "has been recognized by no other inquirer," and which subordinates the idea of the kingdom in the teaching of Jesus, seems unlikely to obtain acceptance; e.g. s. 173, "The assumption that Jesus laid great weight on the idea of the kingdom for its own sake is wholly unfounded " (aus der Luft gegriffen) ; and s. 195, " The conception of the kingdom lies, in the teaching of Jesus, in the Israelitic background." 4 Ex. xix. 6 ; Dan. ii. 44. See : Wendt, " Teaching of Jesus," I, 174, and note; Holtzmann, "New Testament Theology," I, 225 ff. ; Stevens, " Theology of New Testament," p. 28 ff. ; Beyschlag, " New Testament Theology," I, 43 ; and the detailed and learned survey of four " stadia " in Jewish thought in Toy, " Judaism and Christianity," 1896, 303-371. 94 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION ing conception. Sometimes it had taken the form of a political scheme of national emancipation; sometimes it was the expression of a religious dream of Messianic glory. Thus, even to those who were looking and longing for the kingdom of God, it was not a clearly defined and specific hope. On this flexible phrase, then, with its capacity for spiritualization, Jesus fastens when he desires to describe his mission. He knows that his conception of it is not that which is popularly current among his people, but he util izes the only phrase which is in the least adequate for his teaching, believing that the kingdom of which he speaks is not only in no way contrary to the national hope, but in reality represents the interior truth of that national ideal. One misinterpretation of his message he distinctly meets. The kingdom, as he announces it, is cer tainly not to take that form of a political restoration to which many of his contemporaries had degraded their social ideal. The blessings of that kingdom are not for the great or powerful, but for the humble ministers of others' needs. "Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."1 " Whosoever would become great among you, shall be your minister." 2 " My kingdom," he explicitly says, "is not of this world;"3 and again, "Take heed, beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and 1 Matt, xviii. 4. 2 Mark x. 43. 8 John xviii. 36. SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING 95 the leaven of Herod," 1 — the desire, that is to say, of political supremacy or of party rule. 2 A second conception of the kingdom of heaven current in the time of Jesus cannot be so lightly dismissed. It is that of an apocalyptic consumma tion of the Messiah's rule, — a view which obviously prevailed in much Jewish literature of the time, and which is deeply imbedded in the gospel story. It has been held, therefore, with ingenuity and learn ing,3 that Jesus shared, with his people and his age, these eschatological ideals, and that the key of his teaching concerning the kingdom is to be sought, not in his more spiritualized sayings, but in the apocalyptic utterances and prophecies of the gos- 1 Mark viii. 15. 2 Wendt, I, 364 ff. ; Beyschlag, 1, 47 ; Shailer Mathews, " Social Teaching of Jesus," 45. 8 This view has been elaborated, with variations in detail, in two prize essays of the Hague Society for the defence of the Christian Religion, by Issel, " Die Lehre vom Reiche Gottes im N. T.," 1891 ; and Schmoller, " Die Lehre vom Reiche Gottes in den Schriften des N. T.," 1891 (s. 102 ff.); and in the more famous treatise, confess edly suggested by Schmoller, of Joh. Weiss, " Die Predigt Jesu vom Reiche Gottes," 1892. See the summary of his conclusions, ss. 61, 62 ; and his intention, announced at the outset, " to exhibit the thoroughly apocalyptic and eschatological character of the idea of Jesus." See also, of the same tendency, Bousset, " Jesu Predigt in ihrem Gegensatz zum Judentum," 1892 (s. 100 ff); Schnedermann (op. cit.), s. 190, " This kingdom of God is in no sense a result to be achieved (Aufgabe). The refutation of the utterances of Ritschl to this effect by Haupt, Kostlin, Schmoller, J. Weiss, and others, is to be recognized and commended as an important achievement of the latest inquiry. Rather it is a free gift (Gabe) as Schmoller and J. Weiss have made plain." 96 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION pels. There are, beyond doubt, many passages which lend themselves to this view ; and the method of those New Testament critics who interpret the teaching of Jesus in its relation to the antecedent traditions and ideals of Hebrew faith, has been most illuminating and fruitful. It is difficult, however, to subordinate in the teaching of Jesus the spiritual sayings to these Hebraic hopes. In disposing of one difficulty of interpretation another difficulty is introduced. If the mind of Jesus was thus su premely concerned with an apocalyptic kingdom, how can he have referred to it as " within " ? To believe that the spiritual and ethical teaching con cerning the kingdom should have been superim posed by the followers of Jesus on the view really. held by their Master, is contrary to every indication in the gospels of the true relation between Jesus and his disciples. The well-known phrase of Mat thew Arnold, " Jesus above the heads of his report ers," is one of the safest canons of the New Testament interpretation. The more spiritual and ethical a teaching is, the more likely it is to have come from the Teacher's lips. Thus, if the apoc alyptic passages are to be accepted at all, it must at least be in connection with that other form of proclamation which describes the kingdom as a spiritual and already present reality. " Blessed are the eyes which see the things that ye see ; " 1 " the kingdom of God is come upon you."2 1 Luke x. 23. 2 Matt. xii. 28. So with much force, Erich Haupt, " Die escha- SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING 97 What interpretation, then, shall be offered of this relationship between a kingdom which is at hand and a kingdom which is to come to pass in the world of heaven? Three possibilities have had serious consideration. It may be, in the first place, suggested, in opposition to the view just presented, that it is the apocalyptic passages which are super added, and that they represent the thought of the disciples, derived from the Hebrew tradition, rather than the mind of the Master.1 Such a conclusion, however, would seem to be the last resort of criti cism. It may be, indeed, believed that to many a saying of Jesus there was given a heightened color through the report of evangelists steeped in apoc alyptic hterature ; but to eliminate from the record all anticipation on the part of Jesus of a future con summation is to reject without other cause large portions of the narrative. tologischen Aussagen Jesu," 1895, s' 77 &> "The solution of the problem appears to me attained only when our inquiry begins at the opposite point from that now usually occupied, with those pas sages in which the kingdom of God is described as present. . These passages form the interior climax of the message of Jesus. Here he shows that it is no new and noble Judaism that he brings, The chief element in the kingdom of God — communion with God. the relation of children to a Father — is a present possession." 1 See the restrained yet candid judgments of Toy, " Judaism and Christianity," p. 260 ff ., " That they [the eschatological discussions] were not delivered by Jesus in the form in which we now have them may probably be inferred from the consideration already mentioned — that the disciples for some time after his death show no knowl edge of their contents. . . . The power of the founder of Chris tianity was in his moral personality and in his conception of a thoroughly spiritual society." 98 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION A second possibility which deserves considera tion is that the thought of Jesus himself had a gradual development during his ministry, and passed by degrees from the external to the spirit ual view of the kingdom, so that, while at the beginning of his teaching he shared the popular Messianic ideal and preached a kingdom which was to appear in the clouds of heaven, he became by degrees aware that this consummation was not to happen, and that the real kingdom was, even while he taught, being spiritually realized in the hearts that accepted him.1 This view, however, is also not without grave difficulties. There are, indeed, indications that, as the ministry of Jesus proceeded, the meaning and end of it grew clearer and more commanding to his mind. The hopes with which no doubt he began, of finding accept ance among his people, turned out to be vain ; the cross disclosed itself to him as an inevitable end ; and at last he "set his face," as we read, "to go to Jerusalem."2 Yet, on the other hand, the brief limits of his ministry give scanty room for any radical reconstruction of his thoughts concerning the kingdom. Indeed, his first teachings recog nized as fully as his later utterances its spiritual nature. What is called his temptation was the 1 Beyschlag, "Leben Jesu," I, 229 ff.,"The probability is that he came gradually to think of himself as the deliverer promised by the prophets " ; and the criticism of Wendt, I, 380 ff. For the con verse of this view, see Toy, p. 352. 2 Luke ix. 51. SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING 99 deliberate putting away by him of material tests and rewards. If any deepening spirituality can be traced in his language as it proceeds, it is much more probably to be traced to his gradual instruc tion of the disciples in the profounder view than to a gradual illumination of his own mind. There are, in fact, many indications which suggest a deepening and spiritualizing of the idea of the kingdom, not so much in the mind of Jesus as in the minds of his hearers and followers. It may well have been to them, at the first hearing, diffi cult to realize that Jesus was enriching an old phrase with a new signification, and his bold use of traditional language may have been accepted by them, as it has been accepted by many modern scholars. By degrees, however, it may have come to pass that one after another, in recalling their impressions of the teaching of Jesus, became aware of the deeper meaning which at first they had missed, until at last the very phrase, " The king dom of God," is in the fourth gospel lost in the larger conception of "life" and "eternal life." This gradually dawning consciousness of the inte rior meaning of the teaching of Jesus seems to find its fulfilment in the mind of Paul. To him the spiritual view has become the only conceivable one : " The kingdom of God is . . . ," he says without qualification, " righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost." 1 , We are brought, then, to the apparently para- 1 Rom. xiv. 17. 100 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION doxical conclusion that the kingdom of God had to Jesus both significations, that of a future and that of a present state, that of a heavenly and that of an earthly society. This apparent paradox, however, disappears when we consider the concep tion of the kingdom in the light of the two prin ciples which we have already laid down. Jesus, as we have seen, views the world from above. He sees in it the movement of the life of God on the souls of men. Wherever, then, this spirit of God finds welcome in a human life, there, immediately, unostentatiously, yet certainly, the kingdom of God has already come; and when at last that same spirit shall penetrate the whole world, then there will result a social future which language itself is hardly rich enough to describe. This is no inconsistency or confusion of thought. The thought of Jesus considers both what is and what is to be; the present potentiality of the kingdom and its future realization. Here is the significance of the parables of the leaven 1 and of the mustard seed.2 The kingdom has as its very essence the capacity for expansion. It has as real an exist ence in the seed as in the tree, but not less real in the future glory than in the present seed. It is hidden in the leaven, but it is not less demon strably to be revealed in the mass. The social ideal, then, of Jesus Christ, is to be interpreted only through his religious consciousness. He looks 1Matt. xiii. 33 ; Luke xiii. 21. 2 Matt. xiii. 31, 32; Mark iv. 31, 32; Luke xiii. 19. SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING IOI on human life from above, and, seeing it slowly shaped and purified by the life of God, regards the future of human society with a transcendent and unfaltering hope. In the purposes of God the kingdom is already existent, and when his will is done on earth, then his kingdom, which is now spiritual and interior, will be as visible and as con trolling as it is in heaven.1 On the other hand, Jesus approaches life from within, through the inspiration of the individual. Here is his answer to that question which the disciples themselves asked, "When shall these things be ? and what shall be the sign of thy com ing ? " 2 The kingdom is to come, answers Jesus, not by outward force or social organization or apocalyptic dream, but by the progressive sancti fication of individual human souls.3 And does one 1 Holtzmann, " New Testament Theology," I, 200, "The kingdom of God is both a gift to be received and a result to be achieved " (ebensosehr Gabe wie Aufgabe). So Harnack, "History of Dogma," I, 62, "Jesus announced the kingdom of God ... as a future kingdom, and yet it is presented in his preaching as pres ent ; as invisible, and yet it was visible — for one actually saw it." B. Weiss, " Biblical Theology of New Testament " (tr. 1882), I, 72, " It is this interpretation of present and future, it is this cer tainty of its completion at every stage of the empirical realization of the kingdom of God, which has become an inalienable moment of the Christian consciousness, in consequence of the teaching of Jesus." See also Stevens, " Theology of the NeW Testament," 1899, 37 ff. Holtzmann, s. 208, collects in a note a long series of defini tions of the kingdom. 2 Matt. xxiv. 3. 8 On the kingdom as spiritual, see Bruce, " The Kingdom of God," 4th ed., 1891, Ch. I; "Christ's Idea of the Kingdom," p. 58, 102 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION ask again what is to be the motive of this personal sanctification? It is to be found, according to Jesus, in the thought of the kingdom. On the one hand the kingdom is an unfolding process of social righteousness, to be worked out through individuals; on the other hand, the individual is prompted to his better life by the thought of bringing in the kingdom. Thus the individual and the kingdom grow together. The individual discovers himself in the social order, and the social order, like that " whole creation " of which Saint Paul wrote, " waiteth for the revealing of the sons of God."1 In other and more modern language, the social teaching of Jesus Christ is this, — that the social order is not a product of mechanism but of per sonality, and that personality fulfils itself only in the social order. Thus the social philosophy of Jesus is but another statement of his philosophy of religion. Speaking as a religious teacher, Jesus says that the life of man is discovered to itself in the service of God. The son comes to himself when he says, " I will arise and go to my father."2 His sense of dependence, in the language of Schlei- ermacher, is the beginning of his religious life. Religion is freedom from the world through de- " In all probability the title was used alternatively [kingdom of God, or of heaven] by Jesus, for the express purpose of lifting the minds of the Jewish people into a brighter region of thought "; and on the kingdom as social, see Mathews, " Social Teaching of Jesus," Ch. Ill, and his " History of New Testament Times," 1899, p. 171 ff. 1 Rom. viii. 19. 2 Luke xv. 18. SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING IO3 pendence upon him, "Whose service," in the beau tiful words of the English Prayer-book, "is perfect freedom." 2 The same spiritual process is to be traced in the social teaching of Jesus. Again, the individual is the point of departure, but he finds his own self-realization only in the service of the social world. As has been lately said, " The true individuality is to be found in a fully organized : society, and a worthy society in a fully developed individual."2 The world of social ethics, then, lies in the mind of Jesus like an island in the larger sea of the religious hfe ; but the same prin ciple of service controls one, whether he tills the field of his island or puts forth to the larger adventure of the sea. Shall we, then, say that Jesus was an individualist, or shall we say that in 1 Schleiermacher, " Christlicher Glaube," 1801, 1, 19, "The com mon element in all the varied expressions of piety which distinguish religion from all other feelings — that is to say, the essence of reli gion — is this, that we are conscious of ourselves as absolutely dependent, or in other words, in relation to God." In the recon ciliation of the sense of freedom with the sense of dependence, the two German tendencies in the philosophy of religion, proceeding from Hegel and Schleiermacher, meet ; Pfleiderer, "Die Religion," 1869, I, 78, and more distinctly in his " Religionsphilosophie," 1878,3. 298, "In Gott eins mit der Weltordnung und durch Gott frei von der Weltschranke . . . das ist das Wesen der Religion " ; Biedermann, "Dogmatik," 1869, s. 30, "The content of the religious process in the spiritual life of man is the freedom of the finite spirit from finite conditions in an infinite dependence " ; Lipsius, " Dog matik," 1876, o. 28, "Religion is the reconciliation of the longing for freedom with the sense of dependence." 2 New World, September, 1898, Henry Jones, "Social and Indi vidual Evolution." 104 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION any sense of the word he was a socialist? Was his mind directed toward personal education or toward social reform ? His method, we must answer, admits of no such antagonism between spiritual life and the social good. The one is ; his means, the other is his end. The first word of his teaching is character, the second is love. Love has its watchword, " for their sakes " ; and char acter its command, " sanctify thyself " ; and the Christian social law is fulfilled in the whole saying of Jesus, "for their sakes I sanctify myself."1 Such, in their most general statement, seem to be the social principles of the teaching of Jesus, — the view from above, the approach from within, and the movement toward a spiritual end ; wisdom, personality, idealism ; a social horizon, a social power, a social aim. The supreme truth that this is God's world gave to Jesus his spirit of social optimism ; the assurance that man is God's instru ment gave to him his method of social opportun ism ; the faith that in God's world God's people are to establish God's kingdom gave him his social idealism. He looks upon the struggling, chaotic, sinning world with the eye of an unclouded religious faith, and discerns in it the principle of personality fulfilling the will of God in social ser vice. It is for later chapters to indicate how these social principles may be applied in detail to spe cific social problems of the modern world. For the 1 John xvii. 19. SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING 105 present, let us note in advance the general effect which they may have on one's total view of social life. There has probably never been an age in hu man history which could compare with the pres ent time in its capacity for appreciating these principles which we seem to discover beneath the words and conduct of Jesus Christ. The social question, as we saw at the outset, is an all-environ ing and all-engrossing interest. Even those who are not consciously concerned with it are none the less involved in it. Indeed, this indifferent and neutral element in modern social life makes one of the most threatening elements of the mod ern social question. Those, on the other hand, who recognize the present situation are often much bur dened and perplexed by it. Some of them are shut in by the multitude of details involved in social duty. Their special work is at best but a fragment, and they often wonder how it can have a place in the whole movement of social progress. At times it seems to them that they are doing more harm than good, and that perhaps it would be better to do nothing. They are like detach ments of an army, fighting in the skirmish line, without knowing how their service counts in the general's plan. They are oppressed with a sense of incapacity. They observe that the philosophy of society which is most current at the present time is a philosophy of materiahsm. To it the fundamental problems are economic ; in its teach- 106 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION ing the reconstruction of society proceeds from below, and the ideals of an age are the corollaries of its industrial order. To such observers, then, the social question brings with it a new wave of social pessimism, as if the problems of modern society were too bewildering and portentous to give any ground for courage or hope. To this frame of mind, hemmed in, disheart ened, vainly attempting the interpretation of life from below, there offer themselves the social prin ciples of the teaching of Jesus. In the first place, he contributes a new point of view, — the view from above, the sense of horizon, the capacity for comprehensiveness and wisdom. Passionate activity, beautiful self-sacrifice, indignant emotions, — all these are abundantly offered in our day for social service ; but what a lack there is of breadth of view, of social courage, of a justified and stable optimism ! How are these qualities to supplant the narrowness and irritation and despair which make social hope appear a Utopian dream ? They are to come, answers Jesus, through an application to the social question of the spirit of rational reli gion. What the modern reformer needs is the capacity to look beyond the bounds of his own special work, and to perceive its relations, its causes, and its effects, as a part of the movement of a Divine plan. Nothing could be more contrary to the teaching of Jesus than the vulgar notion that he diverts attention from this world and fixes it on another. His ministry is for this life, quite SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING IO7 as much as for any world. " Thy kingdom come," he prays, " on earth." It is, however, the point of view which transforms the scene. The landscape is more truly studied from the hilltop than from the underbrush below. The general, standing apart from the battle, surveys it more completely than the rank and file in the midst of the smoke. Pre cisely thus the spiritual companionship of Jesus with the life of God gives him perspective and hope in his view of the world below. He looks at hfe from above, and its confusion and conflict fall into order and reveal their purpose as parts of the large intention of the Father. He looks over the partitions of social provincialism, and sees the dimensions and unity of the world. When one asks, then, as many reformers are tempted to ask, "What part has religion in these practical affairs? What right have I to pause in my generous activity and contemplate life in the spirit of Jesus ? " the first — though not the complete — answer to such self-inquiry is this, — that the capacity for detachment and the contemplation of practical affairs from the reli gious point of view are precisely what make prac tical activity most patient, comprehensive, and wise. The special weakness of modern social activity is its impulsiveness, its fickleness, its fragmentary interest, its specialized enthusiasm. What the work of philanthropy and the reform of industry need is the larger horizon of the view from above. Jesus heals the demoniac boy the 108 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION more gladly and firmly because he has just been on the mount of transfiguration.1 It is the same with many a devoted and overburdened modern life as it turns to heal the social distresses of the time. The patience and courage which administer wise relief come of the antecedent transfiguration of life through communion with God. Many a modern life, if asked to define the significance and usefulness of its religious experience, would have little more to say than this : " My faith in God makes me able to do my work. It rescues me from narrowness and hopelessness, and gives me persistence and courage from day to day. It preserves for me the large view of my duty, and sustains me when my immediate results are bit terly meagre and small. In short, it is what stands between me and overwhelming weariness or social despair." The just still live by their faith. The view of life from above gives a rational cour age for the service of life below. The second aspect of the teaching of Jesus is equally applicable to modern life. Next to nar rowness of view, what is the special peril of the present social movement ? It is, beyond doubt, its externalism. Wherever one looks, he sees prog ress defined in terms of organizations, schemes, majorities, social machinery. Industrial life has reached a degree of complexity in which the in dividual worker is little more than one cog in a vast machine. Political methods have magnified 1 Matt. xvii. 15-18. SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING IO9 enormously the function of government. Offi cialism supplants more and more the demand for individual initiative; until, as has been said of German militarism, every effort seems now devoted to the making of a man into a machine. The creed of scientific socialism is frankly and aggressively external. Its programme has rarely a word to say of any change of character ; it makes no appeal to the working-man to cultivate prudence, self-restraint or patience. On the contrary, these qualities, which have been generally recognized as virtues, often seem to stand in the way of the work ing-man's aim. Let him demand more pay, it is urged; more comfort, better external conditions; and then these changes in the outward industrial order will of themselves develop the inward capac ity to use it. Even rehgion itself runs grave risk of being institutionalized and externalized out of all self-recognition. Organization and ritual, ec clesiastical machinery, leagues and associations, — all these external methods have attained such terrific dimensions and importance that it has come to appear an elementary Christian duty for per sons to become, as Stevenson remarked," joiners "; and it is even announced as one conspicuous mark of Christian progress that on a certain day, under one organized arrangement, some millions of associ ated believers will, in sixteen different languages, beseech the throne of grace. What has Jesus Christ to say to this marvellous development of social machinery? He has no IIO JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION direction to give and no criticism to offer. It may well be an admirable, as it is certainly an in evitable, phase in the evolution of society. The methods of the " great industry " are transform ing the habits of the Church, as they have already transformed the habits of the business world. All these subjects he outside of the sphere of the teach ing of Jesus. He is not a social mechanic or a social organizer. The complexity of the modern world presents a problem of external arrangement which was never before his mind, and with which,Leven if it had been set before his mind, he would probably not have felt himself deeply concerned. Jesus, however, turns to the other factor of social life, whose significance the tendency to externalism gravely obscures. It is quite true, as modern teachers are urging upon us, that environment modifies personality, that social and economic con ditions now exist which make a healthy human life very hard to live, that the reorganization of society is a pressing task, and that such im provement in organization may fortify the indi vidual life, as a single soldier's courage is stronger when he is conscious of an organized army at his back. The teaching of Jesus, however, is of the person who can modify his environment, of the man who transforms conditions, of the courage which is nurtured in solitude and is not alone, be cause the Father is with it. In short, Jesus approaches the social question from within ; he deals with individuals ; he makes men. It is for SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING III others to serve the world by organization; he serves it through inspiration. It is for others to offer what the theologians once called a scheme of salvation ; the only salvation Jesus offers is through saviours, and saviours are those who have sancti fied themselves for others' sakes. Does this mean that the teaching of Jesus is indifferent to external methods of reform, and is absorbed, as many of his followers have been, in mystical communion with God, and in the saving of one's own soul ? Was Jesus unaware that there may be circumstances in hfe in which it is almost impossible to save one's soul? Would he, if he could survey the life of the modern world, take no interest in such bettering of external conditions ? Would he expect to communicate spiritual inspira tion where people are living, male and female, ten in a room, or where a family of four are subsisting on the casual earnings of one ? Is he so feeble a sentimentalist as to think that good will come from within if the way is not prepared for it from without ? We shall soon see how far from such indifference to external conditions is the teaching of Jesus, and how radical are his instructions con cerning the environment of life. If the primary aim of Jesus is to set forth the principle of per sonality, to awaken the higher life of persons, to make a man " come to himself," then no social conditions have, under his teaching, any right to exist which can obstruct or which even fail to encourage this end of individual growth, oppor- 112 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION tunity, initiative and character. All this we shall observe as each successive aspect of the social order claims our attention. Yet within this prob lem of the better social order lies always the problem of the better man. " There is no politi cal alchemy," said Mr. Spencer, "by which you can get golden conduct out of leaden instincts." 1 It is vain to imagine that a change of external conditions will of itself bring about a change of the human heart. The fact is that conditions which seem extraordinarily favorable may become the very cause of the wreck of character and of the weakening of the will, and that conditions which seem severe and meagre have in them often the making of men. Many a phase of civilization in which prosperity has been most freely lavished on a people has turned out to be an epoch of political or moral decline ; and many of the fairest blooms of strenuous and fragrant hving have sprung from a bare rock like that of Athens, or from an obscure province like that of Galilee. The method of ex ternalism, in short, deals at most with but one half of the social question. It is a great and honorable task which seems offered to the present genera tion, — the task of perfecting social organization, the levelling and broadening of the way by which the better life of the future may have its entrance into the world ; but if there is no better life to enter ; if after crying, " Prepare ye, prepare ye 1 Essay on " The Coming Slavery," Popular Scientific Monthly, April, 1884. SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING 113 the way of the Lord ! " we wait in vain to see the Son of man approach, — with what a sense of futility and purposelessness are we left, with our organizations and schemes and committees, all prepared for a day of triumph which does not come ! Indeed, complexity of organization brings with it a new and threatening peril. What shall it accomphsh if the organization becomes the tool of designing men ; what gain shall there be in the municipalization of industry if the municipality is the instrument of a " boss " ; wherein is the mechani cal perfection of charity effective if it is in the hands of stupid officials ? The more perfected the social machinery becomes, the better trained must be its engineers. The external order calls for the inward control. The teaching of Jesus, then, does not pretend to cover the whole range of the social ques tion. It recognizes that the problem of adjusting social environment must be a new problem with each new age ; it concerns itself, therefore, with the making of persons who shall be fit to deal with the environment which each new age in its turn presents. "Cleanse first," says Jesus, "the inside of the cup and of the platter." x " For what ioth it profit a man, to gain the whole world, and forfeit his life?"2 In Mrs. Browning's dramatic contrast between the mission of the reformer and the vocation of 'he poet, she sets forth this Christian doctrine : — 1 Matt, xxiii. 26. 2 Mark viii. 36. I 114 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION " I too," she says, " have my vocation, — work to do, . . . Most serious work, most necessary work, As any of the economists. Reform, Make trade a Christian possibility, And individual right no general wrong. . . . What then, indeed, If mortals are not greater by the head Than any of their prosperities ? . . . It takes a soul To move a body : it takes a high-souled man To move the masses, even to a cleaner sty. . . . Ah ! your Fouriers failed Because not poets enough to understand That life develops from within." 1 Still more dramatically, Jesus himself, in that pro found experience which we call the temptation, was directly approached by the spirit of externalism. " If thou art the Son of God," said the tempter, "command that these stones become bread."2 How modern the proposal sounds ! It is precisely the use of power which the modern agitator would call most beneficent — the utilization of spiritual forces for economic production. It might seem, indeed, to such an agitator nothing short of cruel, in a world where there was hunger, to use power for anything else than to make more bread. Jesus, however, approaches the social question from within. He has nothing to say against bread- making ; in another place he feeds a great multi tude. When, however, it is a question of the 1 " Aurora Leigh," Book II. 2 Matt. iv. 3. SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING 115 supreme need of life, he knows that there are necessities more profound than hunger. " Man," he says, "shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God." 1 The fundamental craving of human life, he well knows, — and many a human being, though oppressed by poverty and hunger, still feels the deeper need, — is for capacity, inspiration, regen eration, personality, power. There is another aspect of the social question to which this second principle of the teaching of Jesus / recalls our attention. The fact that he approaches, ! first of all, the individual indicates how large a part of social ills proceeds, in his opinion, not from social maladjustments, but from the fault of human beings themselves, in their own interior, misdirected and redeemable lives. One need not here strike a balance between the external and internal causes of social wrongs. When the bacteria of disease fasten on a human body, it is not possible to deter mine whether the poison from without or the sus ceptibility from within is chiefly responsible ; it is enough to say that much of the external change and decay comes from internal predisposition, and that the constitution may be in many instances fortified against such disease. In the same way it may be affirmed of a vast amount of social suf fering, that its cause and prevention are to be in large degree determined by an inquiry into one's own heart, and that the beginning of a great part 1 Matt. iv. 4. Il6 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION of social amelioration is in the recognition of that personal responsibility which the Bible does not hesitate to call sin. We have become so accus tomed to the language of externalism, that there may seem something antiquated and theological in this reference of social wrongs to so personal a cause as sin. We are much more apt to trace the evils of society to unfavorable environment, to imperfect legislation, or to the competitions of industry; and it is quite true that these causes, and many more, contribute to the social question. No tendency in modern life, however, is more destructive to social progress than the tendency to weaken the sense of personal responsibility for social imperfection, and to fix the blame on unpro- pitious circumstances. The ... obvious fact is, that for a very large part of social disorder, the chief responsibility lies in the passions and ambitions of individual men, and that no social arrangement can guarantee social welfare, unless there is brought home to vast numbers of individuals a profounder sense of personal sin. A social curse, for instance, like that of the drink habit is legitimately attacked by legislation and organization ; but these external remedies will be applied in vain if there is any slackening of the conviction that, with most per sons, drunkenness is not a misfortune for which society is responsible, but a sin for which indi viduals are responsible. Or, again, the problem of charity will remain an ever increasing problem of relief and alms unless there is included, within SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING II7 the problem of relief, the stirring of individual capacity to do without relief, and to enlarge the range of initiative and self-respect. Or, once more, the problem of industry will open into no permanent adjustment between capital and labor, so long as capitalists are rapacious and merciless, and laborers are passionate and disloyal. To whatever phase of the social question we turn, we observe, within the sphere of social arrange ments, the interior problem of the redemption of character. Much social suffering is due to the social order ; but much, and probably more, is due to human sin. To this point, then, of personal responsibility Jesus addresses much of his teaching. He will have no part in the limp fatalism which regards character as the creature of circumstances. He makes a masculine appeal to a man's own will. He allows no shirking of the truth. The pub lican whom he commends throws no blame on his vocation or his circumstances: "God," he says, " be merciful to me a sinner ! " 1 The prodigal does not return to his father with an indictment against the social conditions which have prevailed in the far country of riotous hving ; he returns with the manly and frank confession, " Father, I have sinned." 2 There are, perhaps, profounder aspects than this of the Christian doctrine of sin, as there have been many technical and unreal ways of expressing that doctrine ; but this bearing 1 Luke xviii. 13. 2 Luke xv. 18. Il8 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION of the doctrine of sin on social life has been re served for the present age to appreciate, and a time when the social question is the centre of human interest is a time when we need more than ever to recall the personal causes of social progress and decay. The chief difficulty with modern social life, as we shall repeatedly see, is not a mechanical difficulty, but a moral fault. It is quite true, that one legitimate prayer of the Christian reformer in the present age may be : " Create a better social order, O God, and renew a right rela tion between various classes of men ; " but a much deeper and worthier petition of one who desires to shape the social order of the time would be, as it was of old : " Create in me a clean heart, O God ; and renew a right spirit within me." 1 The teaching of Jesus meets the need of the time when he thus approaches the social question from within. Persons, then, with horizon of view and with interior initiative, — these are the instruments on which Jesus depends to correct the narrowness and the outwardness of the social movement. What is it, one finally asks, which shall create in persons this scope of social purpose and this capacity for social service ? To answer this question we must recall the third and the most characteristic social principle of Jesus, the principle of the kingdom. What delivers one from small views of social duty and from externalism of social method is, accord- j IPs. li. 10. SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING II9 ing to the teaching of Jesus, the devotion of the, individual to a spiritual ideal of social life. The thought of the kingdom makes the man, as the ser vice of the man in its turn makes the kingdom. Among the harassing incidents of routine, incom pleteness, and misdirected effort which abound in modern tasks of social service, the secret of effec tiveness and courage, according to Jesus Christ, lies with the idealist. Such a man, as Matthew Arnold says of Sophocles, " sees life steadily and sees it whole." He finds himself because he has found an end to which he can commit himself. He is obedient to the heavenly vision ; he sanctifies himself for others' sake; and wisdom, sanity, and power are given to him as he thus gives himself to the kingdom. How far such language seems to carry us from the prevailing temper of the modern social ques tion ! What room is there, it may be asked, for the idealist among scenes of destitution and over crowding, of starvation wages and industrial slav ery, where the masses of men are fighting, not for ideals, but for daily bread ? Remote, however, as a spiritual ideal appears to be from the in tensely practical world of social service, it is none the less certain that the lack of such an ideal is the chief curse of modern social life, and that the un spiritual character of the ends proposed as substi tutes for such ideahsm constitute their chief social peril. What is it which we must admit to be the most depressing and heart-breaking quality of the 120 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION ordinary work of average modern life ? It is, beyond doubt, its deadening, downward-looking, dehumanizing dulness, its mechanical round of unilluminated and uninspired routine. It is this which brings with it the sense of limitation, insig nificance, and purposelessness, which converts men into machines and robs them of vitality, imagi nation, faith, and hope. The high walls of their vocation shut in the narrow road of their lives and shut out all vistas beyond, until they trudge like beasts of burden rather than walk like children of God. And what is it that can restore color and meaning to such a life ? Much, no doubt, can be accomplished by improving conditions, by the lev elling of the walls of vocation, by escape from mechanism. Yet this sense of imprisonment in one's life is by no means a consciousness of those alone whose conditions are most deplorable. The prosperous quite as much as the poor are thus en snared. Despondency and ennui are social dis eases which afflict the luxurious quite as much as they do the hand-working class. Behind the prob lem, then, of improving social conditions lies the problem, for all sorts and conditions of men, of interpreting life as it is, and as it must be, under all conditions, and of illuminating that routine which is inevitable with a sense of significance, unity, intention, and worth. This Jrzm.sjiguration _of..„QQmmon life is what Jesus offers to men in his vision of the kingdom of God. He looks upon the striving, struggling SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING 121 world of social movement as contributing to that social intention. He sees the " One far-off, divine event Toward which the whole creation moves." Neither the turbulence of the stream, nor its reactionary eddies, make him forget the ocean to which it flows. The pettiness, the toil, the rou tine, the insignificance of life, — even its pain and bitterness, — are swept into the movement of his mighty hope, and become a part of its greatness instead of an obstacle to its course. Thus the teaching of Jesus gives meaning to many an obscure life, caught in the perplexity of the modern world. It offers to such a life, not first of all a new set of circumstances, but a new insight into and through its circumstances. A man cries out for the interpretation of his experience, and finds it as he prays, " Thy kingdom come." It is his social ideal which makes a place for his per sonal service. His insignificant task gets a mean ing because it is taken up into the Divine plan. What he regards as his successes and what he calls his failures may be of equal importance in the vast campaign of God. He regains composure, self-respect, and courage, because he has enlisted in that service. It is not his universe. He is set, as a man under authority, to do his duty in the ranks. Not for him, indeed, the glory of a triumphant commander, but for him perhaps at last the commander's summons : "Well done, good 122 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION and faithful servant : thou hast been faithful over a few things, . . . enter thou into the joy of thy lord ! " 1 The significance of such a social ideal may be indicated from quite another point of view. We turn to the substitute now most confidently pro posed for these spiritual interpretations of social life, and at once observe that here also the spirit of idealism is the effective motive power. Nothing is more pathetic than to see an ideal created out of ends which are essentially unspiritual and material, and to observe this fictitious idealism exciting a passionate and self-sacrificing loyalty. The social end proposed by the philosophy of socialism may be in one sense described as an ideal ; for it is, at least, a visionary, remote, and Utopian end. In the more accurate sense, however, it is as far as possible from a spiritual ideal ; it is a sheer mate rial, external rearrangement of possessions and facilities. Yet how devoted and profound an attachment is felt by millions of plain people for this economic creed ! It is an emotional loyalty which, we may be sure, has been awakened, not by a programme of industry, but by the ideal elements which have become associated with it; by such maxims as " Liberty, equality, fraternity " ; by the sense of justice, and the hope of a golden age of righteousness ; in short, by those aspects of the socialist gospel which it has in common with the Christian gospel of the kingdom of God. 1 Matt. xxv. 21. SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING 1 23 It is by no means true, then, that the modern world has outgrown the idealist. On the contrary, it is his habit of mind which makes persuasive the doctrines of industrial revolution. Indeed, it may not improbably come to pass, as we shall later in more detail point out, that the modern world may have to take its choice of idealisms — on the one hand, the materialized hope which inspires the socialist propaganda; or, on the other hand, the spiritual vision which inspired the teaching of Jesus. One thing only, among the many uncer tainties of the social future, may be regarded as reasonably sure, — that no social teaching will be likely to win the hearts of men which is not in some way colored by an idealist's faith. The things that are unseen are, after all, the things for which human hearts most care. " Where there is no vision, the people perish." The permanent influence of the teaching of Jesus on the minds of the human race was assured when he made it his first duty and highest joy to proclaim the coming of an ideal order of Divine righteousness and truth, and " came into Galilee preaching the good news of the kingdom of God." Such appears to be the relation of the social principles of Jesus to the social questions of the present day. His contribution is not one of social organization or method, but of a point of view, a way of approach, and an end to attain. His social gospel is not one of fact or doctrine, but one of spirit and aim. If it is true that the 124 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION social movement is obstructed by narrowness of view and lacks wisdom and horizon, if it is gravely tempted by externalism and needs to be recalled to the problem of the individual, if its ideals are unspiritual and fictitious, then the teach ing of Jesus has something still to offer to social life even among conditions which he could not have foreseen, and for which, therefore, he could have made no regulative law. We are to consider in detail the bearing of this teaching on various forms of social organization presented by the modern world. There are, in particular, three such groups of relationship which he, hke con centric circles, round the individual life. Closest to him is the circle of the family, the interior and elementary social group ; beyond this circle is the larger group of a community of families, compre hending diverse conditions of prosperity and pov erty, and presenting to the individual the problems of the rich and of the poor ; and still again, round both these circles sweeps with a larger radius the industrial order of the present age. Each of these circles of social life holds a social question which is in one aspect wholly unprecedented and purely contemporaneous. The institution of the family, the distribution of property, and the organization of industry are all at the present time subjects of fresh consideration, and conceivably open to radi cal change. Of such problems, therefore, con sidered as temporary social arrangements, the teaching of Jesus, given as it was to a wholly SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING 125 different age, can have little to say. The teach ing of Jesus, however, concerns itself with the principles which these social phenomena illus trate. He views them from above, in the light of his religious vocation ; he* approaches them from within, through the development of personality; he judges them in their end, as contributory to the kingdom of God. Into each circle of social life he enters with these social principles, and it is as one who from within fits his key into door after door and passes out into the open air. In short, we are brought to the point where social organization and social inspiration — the mass and the person — meet as factors in social progress. The teaching of Jesus, being chiefly concerned with the latter factor, may perhaps seem to be of decreased significance under the conditions of the present age. Never was a time which appeared more wholly given over to the principle of organi zation. It is an age of mass-meetings, majori ties, democracies, combinations, machinery. What scope is there left, it may be asked, for the free growth and creative service of the individual ? The fact is, however, that the growth of organiza tion, instead of displacing the principle of inspi ration, only provides a larger opportunity for its effectiveness. The two factors of social move ment are not substitutes for each other ; they are mutually dependent on each other, as wings which on opposite sides sustain a bird's strong flight. Personality finds in organization the multiplica- 126 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION tion of power ; organization, the more complex it grows, makes greater demands on personality. Modern machinery calls for better training in its engineers ; modern industry requires more skill in its mechanics ; modern politics, statesmanship, administration, have become more and more de pendent upon competent men who shall control and direct the mighty power which modern organi zation has devised. All things, said the apostle, wait for . the entrance into organization of the power of personality : " The earnest expectation of the creation waiteth for the revealing of the sons of God." 1 When, therefore, we admit that the chief social contribution of Jesus is the production of spiritual personality, we do not dismiss his teaching as unimportant for the modern world. On the con trary, we turn to him with fresh attention, as perhaps providing that element of social progress of which the modern world stands most in need. If it is true that in every form of social activity the cry of the time is for personality ; if we are in danger of being overwhelmed by social mechanism and robbed of. social power; if in the tendencies of the time " The individual withers and the age is more and more " ; if the Church of Jesus Christ itself, with its vast development of organization, is in danger of being deserted by the active and thoughtful because it 1 Rom. viii. 19. SOCIAL PRINCIPLES OF THE TEACHING 1 27 does not seem to be the instrument of wisdom and of power, — then, even if Jesus makes no important contribution to the external factors of social prog ress, it may be a fitting time to recall the teacher who said, "I am come that they may have life, and may have it more abundantly." Among many evidences that the modern world is recognizing afresh the significance of person ality, the most notable is the renewal of general interest in the personality of Jesus himself. Here was a person who, in the modern sense, accom plished little, was but in the slightest degree an administrator or organizer, and satisfied himself with the general statement of his mission, " I am the Way and the Truth and the Life." Yet through all the uncertainties of Christian theology and all the conflicts of Christian ecclesiasticism, there has disclosed itself to the world an influence proceeding from him which turns out to be that which the world most desires, — the influence of a person viewing life from above, judging it from within, and directing it to its spiritual end. It is one of the most extraordinary signs of the times that, while the doctrines which centre about Christ have to great multitudes almost lost their mean ing, his personality has acquired fresh loyalty and homage. People who are absorbed in the ways of modern life feel a fresh accession of spiritual loyalty to one who, in the midst of these tangled interests, proves to be a wise and trustworthy guide. In a great orchestra, with all its varied 128 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION ways of musical expression, there is one person who performs on no instrument whatever, but in whom, none the less, the whole control of harmony and rhythm resides. Until the leader comes, the discordant sounds go their various ways ; but at his sign the tuning of the instruments ceases and the symphony begins. So it is with the spiritual leadership of Jesus Christ. Among the conflict ing activities of the present time his power is not that of one more activity among the rest, but that of wisdom, personality, idealism. Into the midst of the discordant efforts of men he comes as one having authority ; the self-assertion of each instru ment of social service is hushed as he gives his sign ; and in the surrender of each life to him it finds its place in the symphony of all. CHAPTER III THE TEACHING OF JESUS CONCERNING THE FAMILY Stftere oras a marriage irt ffiera of ©alilu ; . . . anU Sestts also foas btBBnt, arts fjts Disciples, to tije marriage. The social problem of the family, it need hardly be said, is not comprehended by practical consid erations of domestic duty. It is not a question of behavior within the domestic group, but a ques tion of the continued existence of this form of social relation. Even thus defined, the problem of the family usually confronts one at such close range that its real dimensions and significance are not easily appreciated. Before approaching, then, the teaching of Jesus on the subject, it will be necessary to indicate briefly some aspects of the question which may seem to be remote from the immediate issues of the present age. The problem first presents itself when we be come aware that the coherence and permanence of family life are, under existing social conditions, seriously threatened. Domestic instability, it is observed, tends in a most startling manner to be come an epidemic social disease. The number of divorces annually granted in the United States of America is, it appears, increasing, both at a rate unequalled in any other civilized country, and at k 129 130 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION a constantly accelerating rate.1 In all Europe, Canada, and Australia in 1889 the total number of divorces granted was 20, 1 1 1 ; in the United States in this same year it was 23,472. In 1867 there were granted in the United States 9937 divorces ; in 1886 there were granted 29,535. The increase of population in those twenty years was 60 per cent; the increase of divorces was 156 per cent. The total of married couples living in the United States to one couple divorced was in 1870, 664, and in 1880, 481. The ratio of marriages celebrated to one couple divorced was : in Massachusetts in 1867 forty-five to one, and in 1886 thirty-one to one ; in Illinois in 1867 twenty to one, and in 1886 thirteen to one. It may even be computed2 that if the present ratio of increase in population and in sepa ration be maintained, the number of separations of marriage by death would be at the end of the twen tieth century less than the number of separations by divorce. Many causes contribute to this result. Loose ness in the law of divorce and in its administra tion, diversity of law in the different States, and an almost equal looseness in the law of marriage, — all have their part in creating a situation in which, as has been remarked, less care is observed 1 United States Commissioner of Labor, " Report on Marriage and Divorce," 1889; "Columbia College Studies," I, 1; Willcox, "The Divorce Problem ; a Study in Statistics," 1891 ; Mayo-Smith, "Statistics and Sociology"; A. P. Lloyd, "A Treatise on the Law of Divorce," 1889. 2 Willcox (op. cit.), p. 12. THE FAMILY 131 in arranging a contract of marriage than is involved in a contract concerning a horse or a piece of land.1 This situation, which has become so familiar as to make the instability of the marriage tie a matter even of current jest, is in itself sufficient to con stitute a problem of extreme gravity, and it is most natural that many communions of the Christian Church are urging upon the consciences of their adherents the insidious nature of the social peril involved, and are procuring more stringent legis lation, both of State and Church, concerning mar riage and divorce. In these practical efforts for domestic integrity, however, there is in reality involved a much larger issue than at first appears. It is, in fact, nothing less than an issue between two theories of the marriage tie, — • the conception of it as a temporary contract, involving the interests of those who are known as "the parties concerned " ; and the con ception of it as a social institution, involving the fabric of the social order. Indeed, the family is but one element in a general struggle for existence of two types of civilization, one dominated by an interest in the development of the individual, the other characterized by a concern for the social order. The first of these conceptions of society 1 Atlantic Monthly, April, 1888, F. G. Cook, "The Marriage Celebration in the United States"; S. W. Dike, "Reports of Na tional Divorce Reform League"; Political Science Quarterly, December, 1889, "Statistics of Marriage and Divorce"; C. F. Thwing, "The Family : an Historical and Social Study"; C. D. Wright, " Practical Sociology," 1899, p. 151 ff. 132 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION has for a long period controlled English thought. " The movement of progressive societies," said Sir Henry Maine, "has been uniform in one respect. Through all its course it has been dis tinguished by the gradual dissolution of family dependency and the growth of individual obliga tion in its place. The individual is steadily sub stituted for the family as the unit of which civil law takes account." a This substitution has been for several generations the key of English jurispru dence, philosophy, and economics, as well as of the religious life and thought of Protestantism.2 The second conception of society, on the other hand, has come to its full expression within the present generation. It takes fresh account of the stability and progress of the social order. It is illustrated by the mass of new legislation which deals with ques tions of social welfare ; by the new expansion of philosophy into problems of social structure, evo lution, and obligation ; by the transition of eco nomic science from issues of individual competition and harmonies of self-interest to the adjustments 1 Maine, "Ancient Law," 3d Amer. ed., 1878, p. 163 ; so also Horace Bushnell, " Christian Nurture," 1871, p. 91, " All our modern notions and speculations have taken on a bent toward individual ism." Compare, "The Message of Christ to Manhood," Noble Lectures, 1899; H. C. Potter, "The Message of Christ to the Family," p. 193. 2 So of the Catholic judgment of Protestantism, " Life of Father Hecker," N. Y., 1894, "Protestantism is mainly unsocial, being an extravagant form of individualism. Its Christ deals with men apart from each other and furnishing no cohesive element to humanity." THE FAMILY 133 of associated industry; and, finally, by the new emphasis of Christian theology upon the organic life of the Church or of the world. In the midst of this conflict of tendencies in civilization stands the problem of the family. If the individual is the end for which social life exists, if it is the "parties concerned" alone who are to be considered in a case of marriage, then the legislation of self-interest, which takes ac count of nothing more than the happiness or even the whims of individuals, will be set to make and brealc this contract. If, on the other hand, marriage is an elementary expression of organic social life, a witness of that social continuity which is coming to be recognized in the Church, the industrial order, and the State ; or, to say the same thing in the language of Christian philosophy, — if the individual comes to his self- realization only in and through his service of the social order, — then the integrity of the family, as the most elementary group of social life, will be reverently guarded and stringently secured. In the issue, then, between a reversion of social type to the individualism which is elsewhere outgrown, and the safe-guarding of the social organism in its most elementary form, lies the first aspect of the problem of the family. Even this conflict of contemporary types, seri ous as it is, does not present to us the problem of the family in its full significance. Behind this direct attack of sheer self-interest on the integ- 134 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION rity of the domestic group, there lie more subtle perils which can be appreciated only when one recalls the history and evolution of the institution of the family. Here is a social group which, in its present form, is by no means an original and outright gift to the human race, but is the product of a vast world-process of social evolution, through which various types of domestic unity have been in turn selected and, as it were, tested, until at last the fittest has survived. From this point of view, the problem of the family is not merely a contemporary issue between expediency and ideal ism, but is one element in the vastly larger prob lem of human progress and destiny ; and one's judgment concerning the place and future of the family is determined by observing the gradual processes of social selection through which, in the history of the human race, the modern form of the family has been by slow degrees evolved. Here, at last, we meet in its full scope and social impor tance the problem with which the divorce courts and the ecclesiastical councils are trying to deal ; and here also we meet one of the most curious chapters of modern research, which has come to play a most unexpected part in practical discus sions.1 1 Westermarck, " The History of Human Marriage," 2d ed. 1894; Lubbock, "Origin of Civilization," etc., 3d ed., 1879; McLennan, "Studies in Ancient History," 1886; Starcke, "The Primitive Family," 1889; Schurman, "The Ethical Import of Darwinism," 1887, Ch. VI ; Coulanges, "The Ancient City," 1874, Book II. THE FAMILY 1 35 The first aspect of this historical evidence to win attention was formulated in the so-called " Pa triarchal Theory." In the social life of ancient Rome, and in many indications of social conditions in ancient Israel, it was observed that the family was the unit from which national coherence was derived, and that this unit was perpetuated through the supremacy of the oldest male. Thus the patri archal theory seemed the key of the primitive history of the family. Through the expansion of the family group there appeared to be evolved the clan, the tribe, the nation, and the authority of the father became in turn that of the chief, the ruler, the king. It is not easy to overestimate the importance of the emphasis thus laid on the place of the family in human history. " The unit of an ancient society," in the familiar words of Sir Henry Maine, "was the Family, of a modern society the Individual. ' ' x Social progress proceeds, not through relations of isolated atoms, but through the multi plication of organized cells ; not through associa tion of individuals, but through the perpetuation of families. " A cohesive family," says Mr. Bagehot, "is the best germ for a campaigning nation. . . . Nothing of this is possible in loosely bound family groups." 2 Yet the patriarchal theory, illustrated as it was by the more familiar types of ancient civilization, has not only had enormous expan sion, but has been in important respects supple- 1 Maine, "Ancient Law," 3d Amer. ed., 1878, p. 121. 2 Bagehot, "Physics and Politics," Ch. Ill, p. 517. I36 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION mented and corrected by the more extended study of primitive society. It remains true that the family is the unit of civilization, but it is also true that this unit has had its own evolution, so that the family is not only a cause of modern society, but is in its turn an effect of ancient society. Human relationships, it is in the first place pointed out, were probably, even under the rudest conditions, not the promiscuous relations of a herd, but, — as in the case of most of the higher mammals, — a relation of pairing animals, so that even in the most primitive society, either through force, or jealousy, or common possessions, or the care of children, or necessities of self-defence, a more or less permanently associated group-life was maintained. " We may indeed conclude," said Mr. Darwin, "from what we know of the jealousy of all male quadrupeds, that promiscuous intercourse in a state of nature is extremely improbable." x What was it, then, that gave to this pairing group its original coherence and continuity ? The most striking suggestion which has been made in answer to this question is that of Mr. John Fiske, in his discussion of the physiological conditions of human infancy.2 The young of most higher ani mals, Mr. Fiske reminds us, are at birth able to 1 "Descent of Man," pp. 590, 591. 2 This epoch-making doctrine was first expounded in " Cosmic Philosophy," 1875, H> 3^3! reappears in "The Destiny of Man," 1889, p. 57 ; and is finally described in autobiographical form in "A Century of Science," 1899, p. 100 ff. THE FAMILY 137 care for themselves ; while the human infant must be cared for through months of helplessness. This prolongation of infancy brings with it the genesis of sociality. It bridges the gulf which seems to divide the human from the brute world. It gives a profound meaning to the phenomenon of help less babyhood. " From of old we have heard the monition, ' except ye be as babes, ye cannot enter the kingdom of heaven.' The latest science now shows us — though in a very different sense of the words — that, unless we had been as babes, the ethical phenomena which give all its significance to the phrase ' kingdom of heaven ' would have been non-existent for us." Still more significant for the philosophy of the family have been the later researches of the eth nologists. Turning from the comparatively ad vanced social conditions indicated by the Roman or Hebrew literature to more primitive social types, these students of Aryan tribes and of North American aborigines discover in the be ginnings of human society a far more varied and more curious series of domestic relationships than the patriarchal theory covers. The family, it appears, which is to be the unit of further civili zation, has emerged into its present form through various experimental types, assuming all possible variations of grouping, until the fittest to survive had been attained. First, out of the original rela tion of pairing animals there comes into view a domestic unity and continuity represented by the I38 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION woman, who with her children creates a more or less coherent social group among wandering and predatory males. The matriarchal domestic type precedes, as a rule, the patriarchal ; children be long, first of all, to the mother's stock ; polyandry appears to be more primitive than polygamy. It is a type which still survives in many an Oriental tribe and many an Indian tradition, and it may even be suggested that this primitive institution of the practical supremacy of the wife is not with out its survivals in the administration of many a modern home. Again, in this dim chapter of social evolution, as possessions multiply and the competition for wives becomes keen, the unity of the family is determined, in many tribes, not by reference to the woman, but by the supremacy of the man. Perhaps the series of incidents sug gested by McLennan occurs : first, in a state of constant warfare, the neglect of female infants ; then a consequent lack of women within the tribe ; then the necessity for exogamy, or the procuring of wives from outside the tribe, and, as a conse quence, the custom of marriage by capture, or the recruiting of domestic life from other tribes. Finally, out of this unity in the male, emerges, under more advanced social conditions, the patri archal family, with its profound effect, through Roman law and ecclesiastical custom, on modern views of marriage and divorce. Out of such a struggle for existence among social types, the modern family is born. The THE FAMILY 139 relation of individuals which it represents, with personal rights and obligations, is a relation unattained in primitive social groups. Prophe sied though monogamy may be by the evolution of the domestic group,1 the family as we under stand it, with its mutual sacrifices, its personal self-surrender, its discovery of the higher self in the social group, appears to be an end toward which the movement of social evolution has been for ages tending. The social order, in St. Paul's language, has groaned and travailed in pain, wait ing for the revelation of the higher type. Here, then, at last the problem of the family begins to be seen in its true dimensions. It is not merely a problem of contemporary or local expediency, or even one of social philosophy alone, but one which has the entire history of the race for its background and the entire future of the social order for its consequence. The immediate ques tions of marriage and divorce which agitate the modern world should be considered in the light of this long story of social evolution or reversion. With the integrity or instability of the unit of civilization is likely to stand or fall the structure of that civilization. The most fundamental ques tion which can be asked of any phase of social condition is this : What are the character, form, and habits of its family life ? It is at precisely this point, however, that we now meet the most uncompromising and undis- 1 Spencer, " Principles of Sociology," I, 673 ff . 140 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION guised attack upon the modern family, — the attack of the scientific socialist. It would be by no means just to say that the encouragement of domestic instability is an essential part of the socialist programme. Many strenuous advocates of common industrial ownership shrink from the thought of a cooperative commonwealth of wives and children.1 Yet it must be admitted that, with great ingenuity and candor, the leaders of the Ger man school, by utilizing the researches of the evolutionists to which we have just alluded, and applying them to the problem of social revolution, have obtained a philosophy of history which has had profound effect upon the practical beliefs of millions of plain people.2 To those who would substitute common ownership for individual liberty, the institution of the family presents one of the most persistent obstacles. Domestic 'unity is in consistent with an absolute social unity vested in the State. The thrift, economies, and centralized interest of the isolated home tend to detach those who are devoted to such homes from complete devotion to the socialist ideal. " Family suprem- JL. Stein, "Die soziale Frage im Lichte der Philosophic," s. 77, "In a socialist state of any civilized character, the institution of monogamy must remain undisturbed." 2 Bebel, " Die Frau und der Sozialismus," 10. Aufl., 1891, ss. 7-72; F. Engel, " Der Ursprung der Familie, des Privateigentums und des Staates," 4. Aufl., 1892; Dritter Evang.-soz. Kongress, 1892, s. 8 ; F. Naumann, " Christentum und Familie " ; Neunter Evang.- soz. Kongress, 1898; Rade, "Die sittlich-religiose Gedankenwelt unsrer Industriearbeiter," s. 117 ff. (" Ehe und Familienleben"). THE FAMILY I4I acy will be absolutely incompatible with an inter dependent solidaric commonwealth." 2 To these practical considerations, moreover, there is added a new application of the doctrine of social evolution. The family, as we have seen, has had its primitive origin, its changeful phases, its gradual growth ; it is now, according to many socialist philosophers, to have its further period of transition and final decline. It is " a historical phenomenon which has been developed in course of time, and in time will vanish." What originally consolidated the domestic group was the desire to transmit private property. The family was "an economic unit, and such it still remains."2 It is an instrument of the capitalist class. Indeed, without such private property the unity of the family can hardly exist. How can we speak of the sanctity of the home, it is asked, when the man 1 Gronlund, " The Cooperative Commonwealth in its Outlines," 1884, p. 224. Bebel (op. cit.) 5. 199, "The final result is this : Marriage, as at present understood, is an arrangement most closely associated with the existing social status and stands or falls with it;" s. 5, " The complete solution of the woman question ... is, like the solution of the labor question, impossible under our present social and political conditions." E. and E. M. Aveling, " The Woman Ques tion " (a tract), 1897, p. 16, "The contract between man and woman will be of a purely private nature. . . For divorce there will be no need." K. P., " Socialism and Sex " (undated), London, Reeves, " Economic independence is essential to all humans. . . . The cur rent type of sex relationship ... is inconsistent with economic independence, and therefore is a type destined to extinction. The socialistic movement with its new morality . . . must surely and rapidly undermine our current marriage customs and marital laws." 2 Naumann, "Christentum und Familie," s. 12. 142 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION and his wife have no home or private possessions, and both work all day in the mill or the street ? " For a large part of the working population of our great industrial cities," remarks a German stu dent, " the traditional form of the family no longer exists." 1 It is still further pointed out that even as regards its contribution to industrial life the importance of the family is already enormously lessened. Once every form of industry went on within the family circle ; but, as the methods of the great industry are substituted for work done in the home, the economic usefulness of the family is practically outgrown. Women are no longer the slaves of domestic service. They can lead their own lives and earn their own bread. " Machin ery has become their saviour."2 Thus, with the coming of the socialist State, family unity will be merged in a higher end. The wife, being no longer doomed to household drudgery, will have the 1 Gohre, "Drei Monate Fabrikarbeiter," 1891, s. 37, "Dass infolge dieser Zustande in weiten Kreisen unsrer grossstadtischen Industriebevolkerung die iiberlieferte Form der Familie heute schon nicht mehr vorhanden ist." So Morris and Bax, " Socialism," p. 299 ff., "The present marriage system is based on the general supposition of economic dependence of the woman on the man. . . . The basis would disappear with the advent of social economic freedom. ... A new development of the family would take place on the basis of . . . mutual inclination and affection, an association terminable at the will of either party. It is easy to see how great the gain would be to morality and sentiment." 2 Naumann, s. 14; see also his "Der Christ im Zeitalter der Maschine," in his " Was heisst Christlich-Sozial ? " 1894. THE FAMILY 1 43 greater blessing of economic equality. Children will be cared for by the community under health ful and uniform conditions, and we shall arrive at what has been called " the happy time when the continuity of society no longer depends upon the private nursery." x Childbearing and non-child- bearing women will have separate consideration, so that both production and liberty shall be insured.2 The evolution of the family will have proceeded from simplicity to simplicity. Its his tory will have been a spiral progress, beginning in the promiscuous freedom of savagery, and ending in the equally incidental and loose relations of individual and temporary desire. It is difficult for one who is unfamiliar with the socialist propaganda to believe that these specula tions concerning social evolution can have had seri ous influence upon the lives of the working-people to whom socialism has become a practical creed ; but the fact is that in popularized, and often in grosser, form, this protest against family exclusiveness has become a positive part of the German gospel of discontent. The German hand-worker is con stantly reminded that his economic welfare is to be found in a complete break with that social order of which capitalism, religion, and family unity are the bulwarks ; and his eager mind is con- 1 Bernard Shaw, quoted Pall Mall Magazine, April, 1898. 2 The practical arrangement of this stock-farm scheme is de scribed by Karl Pearson, "The Ethics of Free Thought," 1888, P- 379 «• 144 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION stantly fed by the literature of domestic revolt. Still more insidious is this same doctrine as it is expounded in English as well as German literature, addressed not to working-people, but to light- minded and self-indulgent readers of the prosper ous classes. The modern novel appears to find no theme more lucrative than that of the fail ure of marriage, and discusses in more or less undisguised language the next steps which may be proposed in domestic evolution. In short, it has become clear, not only that a transformation of economic conditions is likely to bring with it a radical change in domestic relations, but that, on the other hand, until a new set of ideas about family life are made thoroughly familiar, the great est obstruction to radical economic change will remain unremoved. Nothing is stranger in the modern social agitation than this transfer of its storm-centre from the issue with capitalism, in which it began, to the apparently remote and tran quil region of the family ; and it is not inconceiv able that the judgment of history on the programme of economic socialism may be determined, not so much by the main issue for which the programme appears to stand, as by the effect of the changes proposed upon the integrity of the family. Such, then, is the place in modern thought of the problem which, in its obvious and temporary form, presented itself as a mere question of the regulation of marriage and divorce. Two forces THE FAMILY 145 appear to threaten the stability of the present social order, — the reactionary force of self-inter ested individualism, and the revolutionary force of scientific socialism ; and at the point where these forces meet stands the institution of the family. On the one hand it is in danger of being shattered into its atoms, on the other hand it is in danger of being lost in a larger unity. On the one hand is a possible social reversion, and on the other hand a possible social revolution. The problem of the family is not only theoretically fundamental in social philosophy, but it is also the practical issue whose decision is most likely to determine the future of human society, government, and re ligion. With this problem, therefore, brought to its larger statement and seen in its far-reaching effects, we turn to the teaching of Jesus, and proceed to inquire whether the social principles of his gospel which we have already considered appear to open into any definite instructions con cerning this special case. As one sets himself to such an inquiry he is struck at once by the extraordinary emphasis repeatedly laid by Jesus on the institution of the family. There were many other problems con cerning which his judgment was sought, where it must be inferred either from slight allusions or from complete silence or from some single illu minating phrase. Toward the politics, the larger social institutions, and even the theological issues of his time, his attitude was, as a rule, one of I46 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION extraordinary reserve, which is as disappointing to many a modern reformer as it was perplexing to many a hearer of his message.1 On the other hand, with quite unparalleled fulness of detail, the teaching of Jesus deals with the nature and obligations of the family. With unusual identity of language the first three gospels record his sayings on this subject, and their reiteration of the teaching indicate how profound an impression it originally made.2 Still further, this is the only aspect of social life concerning which Jesus de scends from the announcing of general principles to the further duty of prescribing specific legisla tion. When, for instance, the Pharisees are in formed that the new teaching concerning marriage and divorce is not what "was said to them of old time," 3 and come to Jesus, "tempting him,"4 Jesus does not, as in so many other cases, refuse to be ensnared by their questions, but proceeds to expound with candor and thoroughness the Chris tian law of the family in its relation to the Mosaic law. When, again, the Sadducees bring him the problem of marriage ingeniously converted into a theological puzzle, Jesus again, instead of answer ing, " Why tempt ye me, ye hypocrites ? " 6 seems glad to use this ill-intended occasion as an oppor tunity for defining the place of marriage in the 1 " Ecce Homo," p. 336, " It was Christ's fixed resolution to enter into no contest with the civil power." 2 Matt. v. 31 ; Matt. xix. 9 ; Mark x. 11 ; Luke xvi. 18. 8 Matt. v. 21. * Matt. xix. 3. 6 ]y[att- ^j^ jg_ THE FAMILY 147 spiritual world, and his doctrine is set forth with such force and clearness that " when the multitudes heard it, they were astonished at his teaching." x More significant still of the sentiment of Jesus concerning the family is his general use of this relationship as the type which expresses all that was most sacred to his mind. His entire theology may be described as a transfiguration of the family. God is a Father, man is his child; and from the father to the child there is conveyed the precious and patient message of paternal love. When the prodigal boy, in that parable which most perfectly tells the story of the sinning and repentant life, "came to himself," his first words were, "I will arise and go to my father " ; 2 and while he is yet afar off the waiting father sees him coming and is moved with compassion. Repentance, that is to say, is but the homesickness of the soul, and the uninterrupted and watching care of the parent is the fairest earthly type of the unfailing forgiveness of God. The family is, to the mind of Jesus, the nearest of human analogies to that Divine order which it was his mission to reveal. To all these aspects of his teaching, which indi cate the thought of Jesus concerning the family, may be further added his habitual sympathy for domestic life itself and his habitual reverence for women. Jesus, though having "not where to lay his head," 3 was as far as possible from the habits of celibate asceticism. He shared the gayety of 1 Matt. xxii. 33. 2 Luke xv. 18. 8 Luke ix. 58. 148 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION the wedding feast ; 1 he lived until manhood in the tranquil simplicity of a village home ; he was sub ject unto his parents ;2 he found respite from the strain of his last days in the family circle at Beth any.3 His attitude toward women was marked both by insight and by courage. Nothing could be more contrary to the spirit of Jesus than to say with Bebel that " Christian doctrine exhibits the same contempt for women which all Oriental religions manifest." On the contrary, without en tering into discussion of the rights of women to special consideration, Jesus honors them in con versation and in deed. He speaks to one unre sponsive woman his momentous words, " God is a Spirit: ... I that speak unto thee am he";4 he in terprets and welcomes the affection which prompts another woman to lavish on him her costly offer ing ; 5 he reads the heart of the woman who is a sinner;6 he lifts the thoughts of Martha above her household cares 7 ; in his doctrine of marriage he explicitly guards the rights and enforces the duties of the woman ; and finally, his last thought upon the cross is for his mother in her solitary home.8 His teaching moves in an atmosphere of domestic interests, and his profoundest thoughts are colored by respect for the family.9 1 John ii. i-ii. 8 Matt. xxvi. 6. 6 John xii. 7, 8. 2 Luke ii. 51. 4 John iv. 24, 26. 6 John viii. 7-1 1. 7 John xi. 21-27. 8 John xix. 26, 27. 9 Compare Shailer Mathews, " Social Teaching of Jesus," p. 98 ff. So " Ecce Homo," p. 233, " Family affection in some form is the almost indispensable root of Christianity." THE FAMILY 1 49 No sooner, however, does one observe these characteristics of the teaching of Jesus, than he perceives a striking analogy between that teach ing and the discussions which we have already described as characteristic of the present age. The considerations which made the problem of the family conspicuous in the thought of Jesus were, of course, infinitely removed from the speculations and apprehensions of the modern world ; but the identity of conclusion concerning the place of the family in the social order is impressive. The social teaching of Jesus, proceeding from a wholly different point of view, lays its hand on the same key of social progress which is now indicatedN by the social philosopher ; and the character of the teaching of Jesus on this subject is one whose importance could not be adequately appreciated until the researches of the present generation had recalled attention to the problem of the family. In the teaching of Jesus, as in these last inquiries concerning the evolution of society, the crucial problem is that of the nature and stability of the domestic group. Modern research observes the coherent family system working its way through the history of tribes and nations, and moulding whole races into firmer stuff ; Jesus, on the other hand, with a wholly different horizon before his mind, sees this same relationship of the family set in the still wider sphere of the Divine order, and finds in the unity of the family that social force which moulds all mankind into one great family 150 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION under the Fatherhood of a loving God. Modern learning, using the language of research, says, "The family is the unit of civilization"; Jesus, using the language of Hebrew scripture, says, "The twain shall become one flesh. . . . What there fore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder."1 Approaching, then, the teaching of Jesus con cerning the family with this recognition of its central position in his thought, we observe still another likeness to the modern situation. There are, as we have seen, two distinct aspects of the present issue, — its contemporary, immediate, leg islative form, involving the practical treatment of marriage and divorce ; and, on the other hand, its more comprehensive, philosophical, prophetic form, in which the problem of the family becomes one element in the process of social evolution. The same distinction may be observed in the teaching of Jesus. Far as he is removed from any academic division of his discourse, none the less, in dealing with the family, he speaks at times in terms of social legislation concerning the family, and at times in terms of moral education through the family. On the one hand, he offers a specific doc trine concerning marriage and divorce, and, on the other hand, he announces principles of social life which immediately and profoundly affect the con stitution of the family. The first aspect of his teaching, being the more obvious and explicit, has 1 Matt. xix. 5, 6. THE FAMILY 15 I attracted the greater attention from students of the Christian law of social life, as though Jesus were primarily a social reformer ; the second way of teaching, being in his more accustomed manner of general instruction, is less defined and external, but lies in reality much deeper in the purpose of Jesus and is of greater significance for the modern question of the family. As to the explicit doctrine of Jesus concerning marriage and divorce, there would seem to be little difficulty of interpretation. Indeed, it is not easy to see how this subject has come to pro vide such inexhaustible material for ecclesiastical discussion. Unwelcome the teaching of Jesus may be to many modern minds; impracticable or inju dicious it may appear under modern conditions ; "overstrained morality," it may be, as Renan called it ; but in its main features this teaching cer tainly cannot be called complicated or equivocal or obscure. In the passage which presents its most formal statement, the teaching of Jesus begins, as it so often does, with a text from the Hebrew scrip tures, which Scripture, as he had solemnly told his people, he had come not to destroy, but to fulfil. " He which made them, . . ." says Jesus, quoting from the book of Genesis, "made them male and female, . . . and the twain shall become one flesh."1 The unity thus formed, Jesus goes on to say, in answer to those who were " tempting " him, is 1 Matt. xix. 4, 5. 152 JESUS CHRIST. AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION absolute. "They are no more twain, but one flesh."1 To put away one's wife, therefore, and marry another is, Jesus does not hesitate to say, for the man to commit adultery ; and to put away one's husband and marry another is for the wife to commit adultery. In one important detail, it is true, a difference is to be observed between this legislation as recorded by Matthew and the parallel passages in Mark and Luke.2 The first gospel, in both the passages which occur in it concerning divorce and remarriage, in serts the clause, " saving for the cause of fornica tion " ; while in the other two gospels not even this single exception is noted. Various interpretations have been given to this divergence in the tradition.3 It may be urged, on the one hand, that, as adul tery practically ruptures the unity of the flesh, it is a priori more probable that Jesus should have 1 Matt. xix. 6. 2Mark x. 1-12 ; Luke xvi. 18. 8 On the one hand, Keim, " Jesus of Nazareth," III, 310, "This addition is interpolated " ; V, 32, " Jesus softened his vigorous state ment by no exception, not even by the most conciliating exception of the wife's adultery, which the later Church, and first of all our Matthew, introduced." Weiss, "Life of Christ," II, 150 (note), "The form of Jesus' remarks against remarriage Luke has pre served in the originals," II, 295 (note). On the other hand, Meyer's" Handbook "(tr. 1884), on Matt. xix. 9, " The words are not to be regarded as an addition of the evangelist. . . . The excep tion which they contain to the law against divorce is the unica et adaquata exceptio." Reconciliation of the two views is urged by Wendt, "Teaching of Jesus," I, 354, "The exception noted by the first evangelist is no real exception to the rule which Jesus so emphatically laid down, that the obligation of marriage is absolute." THE FAMILY 153 recognized it as putting an end to the marriage relation. It may even be suggested that the two gospels which omit to mention this ground for remarriage have omitted it because they regarded it as a matter of course. It must be, in any event, admitted that the first gospel gives its support to those who would permit remarriage for the innocent party in a divorce for adultery, though not even here is there any substantial support for those who would extend the definition of adul tery to undefined causes like desertion or aliena tion, or still more trivial offences now often held to be sufficient. On the other hand, it may be reasonably argued that in a matter so closely con cerning practical life it is more probable that Mat thew should have been led to add an exceptive clause than that the two other evangelists should have omitted to mention so important a qualifica tion. It may be still further urged that it is pre cisely the admission of this single cause which has brought with it, in all manner of disguises, that very laxity which Jesus was bent upon excluding, as though the one devil should return bringing seven other devils more wicked than himself.1 1 An interesting analogy to the variation concerning an exceptive clause is provided by the variation of the text of Matthew in the pas sages concerning self-control (Matt. v. 22). The Authorized English Version, following some manuscripts, reads : " Whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause " ; while the Revised Version, on better authority (see the critical note of Meyer on Matt. v. 22, 1864, s. 136 : "Es ist ein unpassender, aus Befangenheit geflossener, obwohl sehr alter . . . Zusatz.") omits the qualifying clause altogether. 154 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION Important, however, as this question of interpreta tion is, and prolonged as have been the discussions based upon it in the councils of the Christian Church, the really significant element of the teaching is not that in which the various records differ, but that in which they agree. The main intention of the teaching has been greatly over shadowed by this discussion of a single detail. The emphasis of Jesus is, in reality, laid — not upon the terms of a possible separation — but upon the question of remarriage after such sepa ration. "Whosoever putteth away his wife and marrieth another," say all the passages. It is against the provoking of alienation by this antici pation of remarriage that Jesus makes his special protest ; and the modern world, with its volun tary desertions often suggested by antecedent and illegitimate affection, knows well how grave a social peril it is with which Jesus deals. He teaches no prohibition of voluntary separation in case of conjugal failure ; he makes no cruel demand upon the innocent to sacrifice children or love or life for one terrible mistake ; but, except at the utmost for one cause, — and perhaps not even for that cause, — the mistake is one which, in the judgment of Jesus, involves a permanent burden. Marriage when undertaken must be regarded, not as a temporary agreement, but as a practically indissoluble union. It is not surprising to observe that both the Pharisees, to whom Jesus offered this teaching, THE FAMILY 155 and the disciples, who listened to it, were united in their protests against it. On the one hand, the Pharisees said, "This is a harder doctrine than that of Moses," and Jesus admits that this is so. You, he says, live by the law of Deuteronomy, but even in your own tradition there is the older law of Genesis. " Moses . . . suffered you to put away your wives : but from the beginning it hath not been so." 1 Behind the conception of a sacra ment, that is to say, even when that sacrament was ordained by Moses himself, there is the still more primitive law of nature, the essential adap tation described in Genesis of monogamy to human life ; or, as Jesus said, that which has been " from the beginning." On the other hand, the disciples say, " If the case of the man is so with his wife, it is not expedient to marry,"2 and this is precisely the criticism frequently offered in modern times to any strict construction of the marriage tie. The common habit of the political or the legal mind inclines it to inquire, not for ideal social relations, but for temporary security against imme diate perils. Stringent regulation of marriage, it is urged, tends to increase the probability of pro miscuous relations, and in some cases to throw doubt on the legality of well-intentioned marriages or on the legitimacy of children. In the interest, therefore, of good order, the marriage contract should be simplified and relief from its bonds should be within easy reach. This is the defence 1 Matt. xix. 8, . 2 Matt. xix. 10. 156 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION of laws concerning marriage which authorize it without preliminary license, or solemnizing magis trate, or witness ; and of laws concerning divorce which permit it for a hasty temper or a passing whim. If the case of the man with his wife, it is said, is more strictly regulated, " it is not expedient to marry." To all such suggestions that the way to sanctify marriage is to make it less binding, the teaching of Jesus is absolutely opposed. The alternative he presents to permanent acceptance of the mar riage bond is not that of a contract which may be hastily made and hastily broken ; still less is it the probability of living in vice if one is not living in matrimony. The proposition of Jesus, which would seem to be not unreasonable, but which, in the light of much modern legislation and social custom, appears in an extreme degree ascetic and unattain able, is simply this, — that the alternative to per manent union in marriage is permanent purity out of marriage. There are, he admits, cases in which "it is not expedient to marry,"1 though they are by no means cases of mere insufficient self-control, such as seek relief in the modern courts. Physical reasons of temperament or of heredity may some times fitly prohibit matrimony. Such persons, in the language of Jesus, "are born eunuchs from the mother's womb." Again, a profound spiritual demand is sometimes inconsistent with the mar ried state, as it was indeed with Jesus himself. 1 Matt. xix. 10-12. THE FAMILY 157 Such persons, as he says, " make themselves eu nuchs for the kingdom of heaven's sake." The alternative in all such cases is not of more sexual liberty, but of less. They sacrifice family life for a duty which in their case is higher. It is, as he had said just before, like plucking out the right eye or cutting off the right hand if they cause to stumble.1 Concerning the general rule of marriage and its logical consequences, his teaching is explicit and undisguised. Marriage, being ordained of God for the union of two in one flesh, is in its intention for two and for two only, so long as they both shall live. Even to look upon another woman to lust after her is to commit adultery with her already in the heart. Jesus recognizes neither contemporaneous, nor, as it has been called, consecutive, polygamy.2 Precisely as the other relations of family life, of parent with child, of brother with brother, have never been regarded as to be "put away"; pre cisely as there may be in these relations alienation and even separation, but cannot be divorce, per mitting new alliance with new sons or brothers, — so, according to the teaching of Jesus, is the rela tion of husband and wife. Persons on entering Christian marriage, as in becoming parents after marriage, are undertaking a responsibility from which they may not look to escape. The son, 1 Matt, xviii. 8, 9. So Mathews, " Social Teaching of Jesus," p. 93. 2 Princeton Review, July, 1882, Leonard Bacon, "Polygamy in New England." 158 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION however prodigal, still belongs to the father ; and the husband, though in a far country of perma nent separation, still belongs to the wife. The Christian law is not primarily designed to make allowance for social failures, but to establish the principles of the kingdom of God. This severity, which it is impossible to eliminate from the teaching of Jesus, was precisely what made it unwelcome when first delivered. It was a time when in Rome the domestic integrity, which had been the foundation of the State, was corrupted by ostentation and extravagance; a time when in Judea the teachings of Scripture were being learnedly in terpreted so as to permit the very license which they were written to forbid. Thus the teaching of Jesus, while true to the better tradition of both countries, was too uncompromising for the self- indulgent aristocracy of Rome, and too unmistak able for the subtle theologians of Jerusalem. Indeed, it was the more an offence to both because both were forced to recognize that it was the ideal from which they had fallen away. With something of the same searching of hearts, the teaching of Jesus still meets both self-indulgent desire and theo logical ingenuity. Every kind of argument about unhappy homes and uncongenial tempers and newly discovered affinities is answered by the simple words of Jesus, "What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder." 1 Every soft hearted evasion of his legislation by those who 1 Matt. xix. 6. THE FAMILY 1 59 profess to be his ministers is confronted by his undisguised language, " Whosoever shall put away his wife, . . . and shall .marry another, committeth adultery."1 The family is, to Jesus, not a tempo rary arrangement at the mercy of uncontrolled temper or shifting desire ; it is ordained for that very discipline in forbearance and self-restraint which are precisely what many persons would avoid, and the easy rupture of its union blights these virtues in their bud. Why should one con cern himself in marriage to be considerate and for giving if it is easier to be divorced than it is to be good ? Finally, it is most interesting to notice that this high strain of exalted idealism in Jesus concerning marriage is not inconsistent with an equally re markable quality of sanity and common sense. Being asked one day by the Sadducees what would happen under his strict doctrine of the marriage tie if "in the resurrection"2 a woman found herself among many legitimate claimants, Jesus does not hesitate to say that the relation of marriage is based on physical conditions, and is not to be a characteristic of the heavenly life. " In the resur rection they neither marry, nor are given in mar riage, but are as angels in heaven." 3 It might have been anticipated of a mystic and visionary, as Jesus no doubt appeared to those who were tempt ing him, that he would use no discrimination in his teaching, and could be easily lured into discourse 1 Matt. xix. 9. 2 Matt. xxii. 28. 8 Matt. xxii. 30. l60 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION about spiritual marriages and affinities, like many a feeble mystic of the modern world. Jesus, how ever, is in this matter no mystic or ascetic. He recognizes that in marriage physical affection is an element in spiritual unity. He looks at the things of the flesh, not as things that are wrong, but as things that are real. The very fact that, as Jesus says, " He which made them made them male and female," limits the marriage relation to the physical life ; while it is also true that this physical relation ship makes marriage a permanent relationship while physical life lasts. Such seems to be the nature of that one form of social legislation which Jesus ever concerned him self to give. To great numbers of persons who have desired to harmonize domestic inconsistency with Christian loyalty, it is a teaching which has seemed hard to receive ; to many innocent persons it is a teaching which, no doubt, has brought grave suffering ; to many persons who have " lightly or unadvisedly " become married, the penalty for their mistake has often appeared intolerable. Jesus, however, views the problem of marriage, like other social problems, from above, — in the large horizon of the purposes of God. Like a wise physician, he detaches himself from entire absorption in specific cases of social disease, and considers them in re lation to the general principles of social reform. His teaching may, as he says, bring, not peace, but a sword. It may happen that a daughter-in-law will be set against her mother-in-law, and a man's THE FAMILY l6l foes shall be those of his own household. None the less, in the teaching of Jesus, the stable mono<- gamic family remains the type of the unity of the kingdom of God ; and his hope for the world is to be fulfilled through the expansion of those affections which are naturally born in the uncorrupted and uninterrupted unity of the home. To this mainte nance of the home in the interest of the kingdom his legislation is directed. Those who, by fault or misfortune, are involved in domestic instability are permitted by the teaching of Jesus to admit their failure and to part ; but they may not, except possibly for a single cause, — and by no means certainly even for that cause, — forthwith begin a new alliance. Among those marriages which have been deliberately wrecked on some well-known rock of neglected duty, that one or the other party might, with full insurance, embark in another ven ture, the teaching of Jesus stands like a lighthouse to mark the channel and to make such disasters criminally inexcusable. Special cases of social dis ease must not, according to the teaching of Jesus, be permitted to menace the general social health. Social wreckage must not obstruct social navigation. The view from above gives significance and justi fication to much in the teaching of Jesus which, when seen from below, may seem unreasonably severe. Such considerations as these, however, growing out of the legislation of Jesus, carry us, it will be 1 62 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION seen, far beyond the actual sphere of legislation itself, and into the region of the general conse quences of his teaching ; and here, as has been remarked, we come upon that which is more charac teristic in the teaching of Jesus than legislation in any form can be. If it is true, alike according to the con clusions of modern scholarship and the gospel of Christ, that the maintenance of family integrity is the basis of the present social order, then it must be true that those tendencies and enterprises in modern society which make for domestic stability are most directly in line with the purpose of Jesus ; and it must be still further true that many tendencies and enterprises of modern society which may seem in themselves of slight social disadvantage must be regarded as grave social perils if they are seen to threaten the integrity of the family. Indeed, we must go further, and admit that the chief defences of the family are not to be sought in any form of legislation, either political or Christian, but in much more remote sources of social wisdom and strength. Much of the energy which is devoted to establishing rules about marriage and divorce is like energy devoted to maintaining a dike, after the ocean has begun to trickle through. Outside such remedial legislation presses the force of a great flood of restless desire, against which amendments of legislation are of but slight avail ; and the in creasing stream of divorces which now penetrates the barrier of the family is in reality the indication of a storm which is produced by causes lying often THE FAMILY 1 63 very far away. There are social conditions in modern life in which promiscuity and homelessness are almost inevitable, and where it is a mockery to talk of the sanctity of the home ; and there are other social conditions, far removed from the first, where an almost equal peril to the family is to be found in social ambition and publicity. To apply, then, the teaching of Jesus to the world as it now is, one must take account of things which lie apparently quite beyond the specific problem of the family, and must observe some of the tenden cies in modern life which make on the one hand for social integrity, or on the other hand for social disintegration. These remoter causes which at the present time work for or against the stability of the family are in the main of two kinds. In the first place, there are causes which proceed from the economic move ments of the age ; and, in the second place, there are those which proceed from the prevailing stand ards of social life. The economic influences have their effect chiefly on our social customs ; the moral causes have a still graver effect upon what we may call our social creed. Of economic changes which tend to modify domestic life, the most conspicuous is the un precedented concentration of population in urban and industrial life. In 1791 but three per cent of the population of the United States lived in towns having more than five thousand inhabit ants each. As late as 1840 but eight per cent 164 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION so lived. Then began the drift to the cities, until in 1880 twenty-two per cent, and in 1890 twenty- nine per cent, or nearly a third of the popu lation, were housed in cities and large towns.1 The growth of the " great industry " is but an other aspect of the same migration ; it masses population, and draws together producer, seller, buyer, and trader, until rural life, even far away, feels what Mr. Charles Booth has called the in draught of the city. To affirm that this migra tion, and the congestion of population which ensues, necessarily lessen domestic unity would be, of course, quite unjustifiable ; but it is cer tainly true that these conditions are unfavorable for family life. The number of divorces annually granted to residents in cities in the United States is from one-third to one-half greater than the num ber granted to residents in the country.2 Rural life, on the other hand, does not insure affection and forbearance ; indeed, it is often the monotony and solitude of the country which drives restless spirits, for good or evil, to the vivacity and com panionship of the great industry and the great town ; yet, in general, the life of the city is per vaded by a sense of temporariness and homeless ness, while the life of the country encourages domestic integrity. It is but a small minority of 1 Quarterly fournal of Economics, January, 1890, A. B. Hart, "The Rise of American Cities" ; C. D. Wright, "Practical Soci ology," 1899, Ch. VIII (with references). 2" Report of Commissioner of Labor," 1889, p. 162. THE FAMILY 165 the population of a great city which is able to maintain privacy of domestic arrangement and to train those sentiments and traditions which gather about a home. The great proportion of the city's population are industrial nomads, likely any day to fold their tents like Arabs and migrate to some better market for their labor or their wares ; and, of these, a pitifully large proportion have not even tents to detain them, and herd together in the accidental companionship of the lodging-house, the tenement, and the street. Indeed, the migra tory habit, which is forced upon the poor, begins to be a matter of choice among the prosperous, and, instead of any place which can be perma nently regarded as a home, we now observe, even among the luxurious, a preference for the publicity and changefulness of the " flat " or the hotel. Whatever advantages of economy or convenience there may be about this congregated and shifting life, it certainly tends to discourage, ejther among rich or poor, that sentiment which maintains the unit of civilization. The Roman family had its symbol of continuity in the sacred fire, burning on the ancestral hearth ; but it is not without diffi culty that this sense of a sacred and permanent unity can be maintained round the cooking-stove of the tenement, the hot-air register of the board ing house, or even the steam radiator of the apart ment hotel. The problem of the city, which is thus involved in the problem of the family, is however by no 1 66 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION means so formidable and overwhelming a social peril as it at first appears to be. Within this conges tion of social life there are many signs which point to a restoration of social health and a renewal of domestic integrity. First, may be mentioned the now widely extended provision of better lodgings for the poor. One of the greatest achievements of modern philanthropy has been the discovery that under proper conditions model dwellings are a remunerative investment. To be charitable with out being unbusinesslike has long been the un fulfilled ambition of the well-disposed ; and the lodging-house business has come to offer at least one form of benevolence which justly commends itself to generous but prudent philanthropists.1 In these practical undertakings, however, one rule of construction is essential for permanent success, and the neglect of this rule has brought to many a well-meant plan unanticipated disaster. It is the rule which guarantees to each family its domestic independence and seclusion. However much the prosperous may be inclined to undomes- tic pleasures, the healthier instincts of the self- respecting poor demand something that can be 1 Of the abundant and rapidly multiplying literature on the housing of the poor may be named : United States Commissioner of Labor, 8th special report, "The Housing of the Working Peo ple," by E. R. L. Gould ; " Report of New York Tenement House Committee," 1895 > American Economic Association, XIII, Reyn olds, " Housing of Poor in American Cities " ; Post, " Muster- statten personlicher Fursorge von Arbeitgebern," 1893, W> s- 2I5 ff» H. H. Estabrook, " Some Slums in Boston," 1898. THE FAMILY 1 67 called a home. For this reason blocks of model dwellings must be so constructed that each family shall have its own front door, within which are all the necessities of life. For this reason also, when feasible, it is wiser to build detached cottages than solid blocks. This also is the reason why great industrial settlements, absolutely controlled by an employer or a corporation, though equipped with every comfort, are often unwelcome to hand-work ers, even on the most economical terms. What the good workman wants is not benevolent patron age, but fair pay and independence. He wants a sense of proprietorship and an object for his thrift ; and many a bewildered employer has fancied his plans thwarted by sheer ingratitude and stupid ity when in reality they were confronted by the healthy instinct of the home. The industrial problem of dwellings for the poor, that is to say, indicates in a most unexpected manner the funda mental significance of the problem of the family. A second hopeful characteristic of the present congestion of population is the rapidly increasing tendency to suburban life. The provision of rapid transit from the centre of a city now sweeps each day a great multitude of plain and unambitious people into more natural conditions of rural life ; so that the time may not be remote when a city shall be little more than a vast warehouse and shopping-place, in which, as in the case of that part of London specifically called "the City," the popu lation may even tend to decrease. In this tide of 1 68 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION population, flowing into the city each morning and ebbing again at night, we observe a social move ment which, beyond doubt, makes for the cleans ing of social life and the establishment of domestic unity. A suburban home is not a guarantee of domestic happiness, but it certainly makes a centre of mutual attachment, thrift, and simplicity ; and the endless rows of unpretentious and often taste less homes which now surround each great city are to be reckoned by the thoughtful observer as a significant contribution to the problem of the family. Still another corrective tendency in city life which makes for the integrity of the family is to be found in the principles now commonly accepted for the judicious care of children. The modern science of child-saving rests on faith in the restora tive quality of a good home. It regards city insti tutions as not only the most extravagant, but as also the least hopeful, way of caring for dependent children, and its hope is in the deportation of such children from the influences of the city to rural and domestic surroundings.1 All countries in which any alertness of mind is applied to official relief have come to accept the placing-out system as the way of charity appropriate to children, and the first principle of that system is not only 1 J. A. Riis, "The Children of the Poor," 1892, p. 277, "He is saved from becoming a tough to become an automaton." See also Forum, January, 1895, P- 52 ff-> F- G. Peabody, " Colonization as a Remedy for City Poverty." THE FAMILY 1 69 that of "out-door relief," but that of out-of-town relief, and the farther out the better. The instinct of family life, that is to say, which is threatened by the growth of the city, indicates in its turn the most wholesome and fruitful way for the city's sal vation. The same restorative tendency is to be ob served in the habits of the prosperous. The demands of business and the passion for social herding force many prosperous persons into a form of city life which bears hardly any semblance to the life of a family, and which strains and frets the marriage tie with divided interests and undo- mestic obligations. As soon, however, as these preposterous demands of the city appear to be satisfied, the healthier domestic instinct reasserts itself, and the prosperous — often, indeed, to escape the city's tax-bill, but often also to escape from its publicity and promiscuity — join the efflux to the country, until in many cities, for at least half the year, the streets of the more luxurious city-dwellers are like streets of tombs. Still more significant is the procedure of many such persons in the educa tion of their children. Being instinctively aware that a child needs, first of all, a home, and being conscious that their own domestic establishment cannot be fairly called by that name, they transfer the care of their children, and especially of their boys, to schoolmasters in the country. It is but another application of the placing-out system, which has for a long time been applied with sue- 170 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION cess to the children of the homeless poor, and which is now having great extension among the children of the homeless rich. In such instances the utmost credit should be given to the teachers who by consecrated devotion convert a school into a family ; but what, on the other hand, is to be said of the family which is confessedly not as wholesome for one's children as a school ? Occa sionally, no doubt, there may be an occurrence of domestic disaster or necessary rupture or unavoid able circumstances, in which the deporting of a child to the custody of a stranger is advisable in the case of the rich as in that of the poor. In general, however, the growth of the boarding- school system is an indictment of the home. A school may be a better training-place of child-life than a home ; but that is because the home, for sufficient or insufficient reasons, is not what a home ought to be. On the other hand, the plac- ing-out system is a most striking witness of the significance of the home in education. Parents thus colonizing their children are indicating in the most emphatic manner that, even if domestic unity and seclusion are impossible to themselves, some substitute for these blessings must be secured to insure the moral and physical health of those whom they most love. The same evils of the city streets and of the undomestic home threaten rich and poor alike, and beneath the problem of the city, as in a palimpsest, one reads the underlying signs of the significance of the family. THE FAMILY I7I There are many other economic changes which are, in the same way, vastly enlarging the scope of the problem of the family, and contributing to the solution of a question with which they have nothing designedly to do. Each judicious invest ment in well-constructed dwellings for the poor, each extension of suburban railways and reduction of their rates, each encouragement on the part of a corporation or employer of permanence and thrift among employees, each amelioration of the city's own life by checking the evil of drink, or by multiplying popular resources of popular recrea tion, instruction, and health, — is a contribution to domestic integrity and peace. We observed at the outset that the unfolding history of human civilization is at each step epitomized in the evolu tion of the family ; we now observe that the main tenance of the family provides a test of the wisdom both of economic movements and of philanthropic endeavor. Yet these economic rearrangements and phil anthropic enterprises, however beneficent they may be, do not disclose to us the most funda mental causes of the problem of the family. The ; main sources of domestic instability are not eco nomic, but moral. The problem of the family is not chiefly a result of defective social arrange ments, but chiefly the result of a defective social creed. The truth of this statement is at once verified when one recalls the fact that divorce, like nervous prostration, is a disease which afflicts 172 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION the prosperous more than it does the poor. Temp tation enough, indeed, to promiscuous living is forced upon the poor by the crowded conditions of their life, yet one of the most distinctive and most touching characteristics of the poor is a clinging conjugal attachment, unbroken by the strain of destitution or even of vice. Many a well-intentioned philanthropist has tried to lift a family out of want by separating the wife from her degraded husband, and has been dismayed and possibly offended by the unreasonable loyalty of the innocent to the unworthy partner. Domes tic instability, that is to say, is not chiefly the result of unpropitious circumstances, but of un spiritual and undomestic views of happiness and success. It is the consequence, not of a hard life, but of a soft creed ; its chief provocations are not external, but internal ; and its cure must begin with a finer social morality and a more worthy conception of the ends of human life. The prob lem of the family is but one aspect of the whole drift of social standards and ideals in modern life ; and the loosening of the marriage tie is, from this point of view, the premonition of a general land slide of social morality, as in the Alps the occa sional fall of icy fragments indicates a general softening of the crust which may culminate in a mighty avalanche. Of such a threatening thaw of ethical standards there are two conspicuous indications in modern social life. One is the interpretation of life in THE FAMILY 173 terms of egoism, and the other is the estimation of life in terms of commercialism. One is the love of self and the other is the love of money. On the one hand is the ancient heresy which makes one's self the centre round which the social world revolves, — the Ptolemaic philosophy of the selfish life; on the other hand is the special temptation which confronts social life at the present time, as a consequence of the prodigal productiveness and abundance of the modern industrial world. Of the effect on domestic stability of mere self ishness, whether in the form of fleshly brutality or of ungenerous self-consideration, little need be said. The family, in its very nature, represents a transition from the self-considering to the self- subordinating life. The individual yields his iso lated self in entering the social unity. A marriage, therefore, in which one member assumes all the rights and the other performs all the duties is not a domestic relation, but a relation of supremacy and servitude ; a reversion of type to one of those primitive groups, patriarchal it may be, or matri archal, from which the race by the slow processes of evolution has emerged. Marriage in its modern form is the most elementary expression of the life in common. Elementary as such a proposition would seem to be, the discovery that it is true brings to many persons a shock of surprise. Such persons have imagined that domestic unity would endure the brutality of passion or the domineering temper 174 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION or the self-indulgent complaint in which selfish ness expresses itself ; and when they discover that marriage involves mutual rights and mutual sac rifices, they chafe under these unanticipated and irksome restraints. They have thought of mar riage as little more than the satisfaction of lust or of ambition or of whatever other form self- love may assume, and they suddenly find them selves involved in a moral situation, demanding of them the continual exercise of those generous instincts of which, perhaps, their first love was full. Here, then, are indicated both the chief peril and the chief social function of the institution of the family. The chief peril which besets the fam ily is not to be found in imperfect legislation or inadequate social arrangements, but in the undis ciplined will, in the unsocialized desire, in the survival in human life of the instincts of the beast of prey, the viper, or the hog. On the other hand, the chief social function of the family con sists in the contribution which it makes to the socialization of the will. The family sets the indi vidual at birth in a relation of altruistic interest ; it renews and matures this joy as discovered in self- sacrifice, when the individual creates a new family of his own ; it continues only as such self-discov ery through self-surrender becomes the law of life. The family, that is to say, is not designed to make life easier, but to make life better. It rests upon the generous instincts of natural and self-forget ting love. To contemplate a marriage from any THE FAMILY 175 other point of view is simply to court disaster. Domestic stability comes, not through the domina tion of one will and the suppression of another, but through the discipline of each in mutual ser vice, the giving and receiving of mutual correction, the sharing of mutual burdens and mutual joys. Such conditions necessarily involve friction, ad justment, self-discipline, and self-sacrifice ; but it is precisely these ethical demands which make the chief contribution of the family to the moral edu cation of the human race. To the attack on the integrity of the family made by sheer selfishness, must be added the equally familiar peril created by the spirit of com mercialism. Money-making is in itself no sin. Few desires in life are more honorable or more contrib utory to character than the ambition to win by honest work enough money to free one's self and those one loves from harassing and sordid cares. Commercialism, however, estimates life in terms of money, and expects to get from money blessings which money cannot buy. It proposes, among other uses of money, to buy an insurance on domestic happiness, as on other commodities. It talks of a " good " marriage as it talks of other lucrative ventures, though goodness may be sheer badness except to the trader's mind. Yet no one can read the signs of the times without observing that money and happiness are quite as often found apart as together. In fact, commercialism sup plies the soil in which the malaria of domestic 176 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION infelicity most easily spreads. The competitions of trade are duplicated in the competitions of social life ; the advertising habit reappears in the habit of social ostentation ; the value of money for making money is mistaken for a value in making friends ; and finally, precisely as in the fluctua tions of trade, a time of strain arrives, and the home, like the business firm, becomes bankrupt and is dissolved. It is a tragic Nemesis which thus follows the enshrining of Mammon as one's household god ! Luxury, long desired, brings with it restlessness ; freedom from real cares is succeeded by a more exhausting slavery to imagi nary cares ; " good " as the marriage may have seemed to be, it is difficult for those joined in it to be good, and still more difficult for children born of it to remain virile and unspoiled ; finally, the natural end of a misplaced ideal comes in one overwhelming shock, and the idol set above the family hearth falls from its niche and crushes the home. Nor is the effect of commercialism on the family to be observed in the commercially successful alone. There is a much larger and much more pathetic group of cases in which domestic instability pro ceeds, not from prosperity ill endured, but from the unsatisfied thirst for unattained prosperity. Such cases are affected by the contagion of com mercialism, but have not the experience which fortifies against it. They imagine that ostenta tion and notoriety bring with them a happiness THE FAMILY 177 which simplicity and seclusion miss, and that a substitute for the home may be found in imitation of the foolish rich. One of the most startling evidences which the pitiful records of the divorce courts disclose is the fact that domestic instability in the United States prevails chiefly, not among the poor, or among the foreign born, or the hand- working class, but among the ambitious, commer cialized, migratory middle class of native-born Americans. It is, in short, one incident of that general restlessness of modern American life, in which the prizes of commercialism are the only visible rewards of social competition. The per verted standards and ideals of the commercial ized rich filter down, like the water of an infected spring, through the social strata, poisoning many a life which has no direct contact with the tempta tions of prosperity, but is thirsty for satisfactions which the prosperous appear to enjoy. If, then, the self-centred mind and the commer cialized life are sources of such widespread con tamination, then the restoration of social health must begin in nothing less than the purifying of the prevailing social creed. Family integrity can no more be insured by enactment or legislation than the health of a city can be secured by city ordinances while the water supply is tainted at its spring. The problem of the family is but one aspect of the much larger problem of socializing and spiritualizing the habits and aims of social life. At this point, however, and perhaps with a 178 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION certain surprise, we find ourselves once more con fronted by the social principles of Jesus Christ. Precisely this issue, between a selfish and mate rialized aim and a socialized and spiritual ideal, was what lay before his mind, as it now lies before the mind of the modern world ; and then as now the crux of the situation was seen to lie in the problem of the family. Jesus pictured to himself a perfect spiritual unity of social life, which he called the kingdom of God ; and of that final fulfilment of his desire the germ and type were in the unity of the family group, where the self-realization of each individual was found in loving self-surrender. Jesus, therefore, with an explicitness used in no other case, announced defi nite legislation concerning the family. If that ini tial group, he seems to say, can be established in integrity, then within its familiar circle can be easily verified the principles of the kingdom, which on a larger scale might be obscure. Yet Jesus did not trust to such legislation to bring in the kingdom. He surveyed social life from above, with the detachment of the idealist ; and he approached social life from within, by changing, not social circumstances, but human hearts. No amount of social regulation, he knew, can assure social stability, unless the interior ideals of individ ual lives are cleansed and refined at their source. Jesus seeks therefore, first of all, the springs of per sonal life, which if left unclean are sure to infect the whole social stream into which they flow. THE FAMILY 1 79 "Cleanse first the inside of the cup and of the platter, " 1 he says ; " and even now is the axe laid unto the root of the trees."2 In short, as we have been led to trace the remoter causes of the problem of the family, so finally we are led to that solution of the problem which is most characteristic of the teaching of Jesus. It is nothing less than the redemption of personal life from the spirit of selfishness and from that curse of commercialism which the New Testament calls the love of the world. Selfishness dries up the springs from which the stream of the kingdom flows ; commer cialism poisons that stream in its course. Where the institution of the family is converted into an instrument of self-interest or into a commercial transaction, it is vain to hope for its transforma tion by regulation from without ; where, on the other hand, an unselfish temper and a spiritual desire express themselves in domestic life, there no problem of the family is left to solve. Must one, then, conclude that this comprehensive and spiritual solution of the problem of the family has met with no success ? Has the teaching of Jesus concerning the unselfish and unworldly life given to the institution of the family no assurance of stability ? Is it true that the very existence of the family is at present seriously threatened, and that we are likely soon to pass from a period of " family exclusiveness " into an age of domestic looseness or of communistic control ? On the con- 1 Matt, xxiii. 26. 2 Matt. iii. 10. l80 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION trary, we must answer, grave as are the facts which we have traced in this chapter, they have no such significance as this. It is startling enough to be told that out of every thousand marriages in the United States upward of sixty are likely to end in divorce ; but it must not be forgotten that, out of the same thousand, nine hundred and forty are tg continue in some degree of unity and love. An epidemic of disease such as we have traced, though it be serious, still leaves the vast majority of the population uninfected ; an Alpine avalanche, though it be destructive, still leaves the mountains strong. No self-deception could be greater than that of the socialist who fancies that we are really on the brink of a general break-up of the family system. No literature could be more untrue to the main movement of modern thought than the books and dramas which take for granted that licentious imaginings and adulterous joys have displaced in modern society pure romance and wholesome love. The eddies of dirty froth which float on the sur face of the stream of social life and mar its clear ness are not the signs which indicate its current. Beneath these signs of domestic restlessness the main body of social life is yet untainted, and the teaching of Jesus concerning unselfishness and unworldliness is practically verified in multitudes of unobserved and unpolluted homes. What is a Christian family ? It is not an extraor dinarily angelic or ascetic group. It is simply a domestic group in which the spiritual ends of THE FAMILY l8l marriage are not obscured either by uncontrolled selfishness or by contaminating commercialism. Such a marriage has been created by the natural leadings of a pure love, and this single-minded affection becomes a permanent instinct of life. A Christian marriage expects to have its friction of interests and its moments of turbulence, like a stream that has its rapids and its falls ; but these incidents do not block the movement of life, and the stream of love grows deeper and more tranquil as it flows. A Christian family does not forfeit its simplicity, genuineness, and interior resources when it becomes prosperous, or find itself stripped of the essentials of happiness when it becomes poor. In a Christian home the discipline of chil dren is not so much a work of exhortation as of contagion. The prevailing climate of unaffected idealism strengthens the moral constitution of the child. Thus the Christian family gets its unity and stability, not by outward regulation, but by the natural processes of its inward life. It has its troubles, and they draw hearts together. It has its joys, and they are multiplied by being shared. When, finally, the children of that family grow up to hear of larger truths, — truths of the kingdom and of the Father in heaven, and of the son for whose return the Father is waiting, — then they in terpret these great mysteries of the eternal world, as Jesus prompted them to do, in the language of their own loving and united home. Are there many such Christian families ? Millions, we confidently 1 82 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION answer. This is the normal type of the civilized home. The teaching of Jesus, so slightly accepted in many ways of life, has actually taken firm root in the soil of the family. If Jesus should come again, and consider the obvious effects of his teach ing on the habits of social life, he would perhaps find no change so dramatic as that which is to be ob served in the coherence and mutual devotion of the modern home. To the vast majority of any modern community, the problem of the family is but a re mote and uninteresting sign of the time, heard by them as the roar of the ocean is heard by dwellers inland, reporting to them a storm far out at sea. Homes enough there are, as we have seen, wrecked in such storms, and lives enough which are tossed on rough waters with nothing that can be called a home to hold them up, but the continent of our civilization is not seriously threatened by the en croaching sea. The pure love which creates a stable family still sanctifies multitudes of such homes, set far back from the stormy agitations of the time ; and among such homes the spirit of Jesus enters from day to day, as one day he came to the newly married pair at Cana, and changes the water of commonplace and prose into the wine of romance and joy. CHAPTER IV THE TEACHING OF JESUS CONCERNING THE RICH pjoto haroln shall tfteg that ftatoe tithes enter into the ftingoom ot ©oo ! aSEho, then, is the faithful ano arise stehraro iuhom his loto shall set oner his housebote? . . . BSlesseo is that sernant, ... of a truth, fje Swill set him oner all that he hath ! We pass from the innermost circle of social relationship — the family — and find ourselves in a larger but concentric circle. At the centre the individual is inquiring concerning his place and function in the social order, but round him now sweeps the life of a community, made up of many families associated in the complexity of the modern world. No sooner does the individual contemplate this larger circle environing his life, than a new social problem confronts him. He observes the extreme diversity of social conditions whicTr*~eac^i_:such community represents. Some of these families are hungry, for food or for work, and some, on the other hand, seem overburdened by superfluous possessions. Some of these homes are tempted by their poverty, and some by their prosperity. The individual looks about him at the scene presented by the modern distribution of wealth, and it is not a peaceful or sunny 183 1 84 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION prospect. About him lie, it is true, great tracts of general prosperity, a rolling country with gen tle undulations of greater or less possessions ; but in the midst of this smiling landscape rise a few abrupt and overshadowing peaks, making more sombre and sunless the deep canons of incom petency and want which lie between. It is a spectacle abounding in suggestions of pathos, not unmingled with an element of irony. Each extreme of this diversity involves its own special peril; each social type — the dwellers on the heights and those who never see the sun — has its own temptations ; each type tends to become isolated and fixed in its conditions; yet within each type there are groups which have a curious kinship in habit and needs. On the one hand is the group of the unemployed and laboriously idle rich, and on the other hand is the group of the unr employed and professionally idle poor. The two groups have much in common. Each is a detach ment of what is known as the army of the unem ployed. Each is characterized by loss of respect for work. Each, therefore, has its share of re sponsibility for the revolutionary agitation of the time. The instruments of this revolt are likely to be found among the exasperated poor; but the provocation to revolt is likely to proceed from the unemployed and self-indulgent rich, the spenders of that which others have gained, the persons of whom Mr. Ruskin said that their wealth should be called their "ill-th," because it is not THE RICH 185 well, but ill, with their souls. Thus, while the main current of social life is healthy and free, its motion has thrown up upon the surface a kind of life which may be described as social froth, and has deposited at its bottom another kind of life which may be described as social sediment ; and who shall say which is the more threatening social peril, — the submerged poor or the light-minded rich; the restlessness of the social sediment, or the thoughtlessness of the social froth? It should be noticed that this diversity of social condition, which appears to create a new social question, is not itself a new situation or one qf_ unprecedented gravity. On the contrary, one of the most obvious facts of modern civilization is the enormous advance in general prosperity and in purchasing power of every social class. Jj^is, by no means true that as the rich grow richer the •poor "are growing poorer. The concentration of great wealth in a few hands is accompanied by an extraordinary distribution of comfort among many millions, so that conveniences and resources, which two generations ago were the luxuries of the few, have come to be within easy reach of the hum blest. This progress in general prosperity has not, however, been a uniform progress. While the rich have been growing richer, the poor have been growing less poor, but they have not main tained the same pace of progress. Thus, while general progress may be admitted to be real, it may be still indicted as inequitable, and it is this 1 86 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION sense of inequity which gives to the present social situation its specific character. It is not true that the hand-working class have less, but it is true that they know and feel and desire more. Thus, the modern social question is one fruit of the education of the masses. It is not a sign of social decadence, but a sign of social progress. " The people had been made blind, like Samson," remarks Mr. Graham, "the better to toil without being dangerous. . . . In 1870 it was felt . . . that a measure of educa tion was necessary and politic, and Lord Sher- brooke (then Mr. Robert Lowe) expressed a very general feeling in his well-known aphorism, 'We must educate our masters. ' " l In such a situation, however, the social question presents itself in a much more radical form than it has, under other conditions, assumed. It is not a question of economic reforms or philanthropic schemes. It considers the very existence of these extremes of condition. Ought there to be any such types in social life as the rich and the poor ? Is the possession of wealth on any terms justifi able ? Is poverty by any means eradicable ? Is a social order just and rational which permits great accumulation of wealth in single hands ? If not, shall not a new social order be established, where the valleys of social life shall be exalted and its mountains and hills brought low ? We speak of a rich man as being "worth" a certain sum. How much, asks the modern spirit, is a rich man in fact 1 Graham, "The Social Problem," 1886, pp. 23, 25. THE RICH I87 worth ? Is he worth what he costs ? In a time when the majority have the power, but have not the wealth, is it not possible, either by legislation or by revolution, greatly to restrict or hamper the accumulation and perpetuation of wealth ? May not the way of the rich, like that of the trans gressor, be made very hard ? If the private owner ship of wealth brings with it no public utility, or if, still worse, it turns out to be a source of demor alization, are there not ways of dealing with it as one deals with any common nuisance, so that it may be in large degree abated ? Thus the modern social question tests the institu tion of private property by its contribution to the public good. Does it foster a quality of social life which is worth perpetuating ? Does money-getting fulfil a moral purpose ? Is it, on the whole, best that the way to wealth shall be left open toward the top, so that a man who has the gift for getting rich may have all the benefits of that gift ; or, on the other hand, ought rich people to be abolished, because it is impossible to be both rich and good ? What is this fact of diversity of condition in modern social life, but a challenge to the poor to use their power, like a Samson who is no longer blind, to drag down the pillars of a perverted civilization ? Such are the questions which, often with bitter ness, often with apprehension, are being asiced by the present age. Wealth is brojightJto„J:he t_est of utility. If it carmoTTTe proved to fulfil some public~seTvice, Ihen it is very probably diggiqg its 1 88 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION .own grave. With such questions, then, we turn to the teaching of Jesus Christ ; and at once we are confronted by those principles of his teaching which in their general form we have already re called. Jesus views the social order from above, in the horizon of the purposes of God ; he ap proaches the social order from within, through the awakening of individual capacity; he judges the social order in its end, as a means to the kingdom of the Father. What has Jesus, then, to say of the contrast which was conspicuous in his time, as it is in ours, between wealth and poverty ? Does the possession of wealth appear to Jesus likely to make that kind of man who in his turn may help the kingdom ? May a rich man be an accepted follower of Jesus Christ ? Or is poverty, on the other hand, of the essence of Christian discipleship, and is a rich man necessarily shut out of the kingdom ? What is the teaching of Jesus concerning the rich ? 1 No sooner does one ask these questions than he recalls the reiterated and unmitigated language of warning and rebuke with which Jesus addressed the prosperous. " How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God ! " 2 " Woe unto you that are rich ; " " Blessed are ye poor ;" 3 " Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon the earth;"* "For a man's life consisteth not in the 1 See also Christian Register, January 5, 1893, F. G. Peabody, "The Problem of Rich Men." 2 Mark x. 23. s Luke vi. 20, 24. 4 Matt. vi. 19. THE RICH 189 abundance of the things which he possesseth;"1 "Ye cannot serve God and mammon;"2 "It is easier for a camel to go through a needle's eye, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God."3 Few modern agitators, urging thedispos- sessed poor to resist their oppressors, have ever ventured upon stronger language than this ; few, indeed, have gone so far as to say to their fol lowers : " Sell all that thou hast, . . . and come, follow me."4 It is not surprising that such say ings have been greeted as conclusive testimony concerning the teaching of Jesus, and as establish ing his place in history as the great forerunner of modern protests against the industrial sys tem which is based on private capital. "When Jesus," it is confidently asserted, " says, ' Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth,' he shows himself on ethical grounds a radical opponent of all accumulation of wealth."5 "The democracy of property, which is the larger revelation of Christ, ... is the condemnation of the wage-system."6 " If the man who best represents the ideas of early Christians were to enter a respectable society to-day, would it not be likely to send for the po lice ? " 7 " The practice of the preacher-carpenter who had not where to lay his head, who is not re- 1 Luke xii. 15. 8 Matt. xix. 24. 2 Matt. vi. 24. * Luke xviii. 22. 6 Naumann, "Was heisst Christlich-Sozial ?" s. 9. 6 Herron, "The New Redemption," p. 63. 7 Leslie Stephen, " Social Rights and Duties," I, 21 (quoted by Mathews, "Social Teaching of Jesus," 149 [note]). 190 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION corded as having possessed a single coin, who had nothing to leave his mother, and whose grave was borrowed from a friend, accords fully with the mes sage he delivered."1 Estimates like these of the teaching of Jesus must not be lightly dismissed. There is no way of breaking the force of these solemn sayings of the gospels concerning the deceitfulness of riches, or of eliminating from the teaching of Jesus his stern warnings to the prosperous and his beauti ful compassion for the poor. Is it possible, how ever, that so obvious and so limited a message as this, a teaching so slightly distinguishable from the curbstone rhetoric of a modern agitator, can be an adequate reproduction of the scope and power of the teaching of Jesus ? Is it not, on the contrary, more probable that we have here a new illustration of that easy literalism which through all Christian history has distorted and limited the teaching of the gospel? No vagary or extrava gance of opinion has been too extreme to claim for itself the authority of the teaching of Jesus, or to fortify that claim through a fragmentary and hap hazard eclecticism. The gospels, however, are not a series of disconnected aphorisms ; they are the record of a continuous life, whose complete intention is not disclosed in single incidents or detached sayings, but reveals itself in the general 1 Article in The Outlook, December 10, 1898. Compare also O. Holtzmann, "Jesus Christus und das Gemeinschaftsleben der Menschen," 1893, s. 17 ff. THE RICH igi habit and movement of the Teacher's mind. If, then, one seriously desires to know what Jesus thought about the rich and the poor, he must scrutinize, compare, and weigh the scattered say ings of the gospel and derive from them a general impression of the life which gave authority to the teaching ; and as he thus passes from the letter of the gospel to its spirit, there may perhaps disclose itself a scope and character of teaching which no isolated saying adequately represents, but which, the more one examines- it, draws the learner to the Teacher with a profounder impres sion of reverent awe.1 As one thus approaches the teaching of Jesus concerning the rich, he is, first of all, confronted by an extraordinary difference of emphasis in the different evangelists.2 The fourth gospel hardly J8ter Evang.-soz. Kongress, 1897, Wendt, "Das Eigentum nach christlicher Beurteilung," s. 10, " A trustworthy Christian judgment concerning property is to be derived, not from single Biblical utter ances or parables, but from the fundamental principles and religious conceptions of Jesus." 2 On these notable differences of social teaching see, on the one hand, Keim, "Jesus of Nazareth," III, 284, "We have [in Luke] gross, naked Ebionitism." . . . "The naked doctrine of poverty." IV. 81, "In the glorification ... of poverty as such ... we have the direct reverse of the teaching of Jesus." More moderately, H. Holtzmann, " Die ersten Christen und die soziale Frage," s. 44, "The view of Jesus is of the peril of riches ; . . . the view of the third Gospel is that riches are in themselves disgraceful, and poverty in itself saving. " On the other hand, Renan, " Life of Jesus" (tr. Allen), Ch. XI, "The Gospel in his [Jesus] thought of it, is for the poor." The Ebionitic note of the third gospel is emphasized, perhaps with exaggeration, by Colin Campbell, " Criti- 192 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION touches the question of material possessions at all. It moves in quite another world, — a world of lofty philosophy, spiritual biography, and Divine communion. With the exception of two unim portant passages1 the very words "rich," "poor," "wealth," "poverty," "to be rich," "to be poor," do not occur either in the fourth gospel or in the Johannine epistles. The second gospel also, — though for opposite reasons — offers practically no materia] concerning poverty or wealth which does not also present itself either in Matthew or Luke, or in both. The fourth gospel loses sight of these human interests in its flight of spiritual meditation ; the second gospel hastens by these general problems of social life in its absorbed and concise records of the words and acts of Jesus. Thus the teaching of Jesus concerning social con ditions must be sought almost wholly in the gos pels of Matthew and Luke ; and here we come upon abundant material. Yet here also we meet a still more striking cal Studies in Luke's Gospel," 1891, Ch. II. Compare, Plummer, " Commentary on Luke," 1 896, p. xxv. "Is there any Ebionism in St. Luke ? That Luke is profoundly impressed by the contrast between wealth and poverty ... is true enough. But this is not Ebionism. He nowhere teaches that wealth is sinful and that rich men must give away all their wealth, or that the wealthy may be spoiled by the poor." Observe also the discussions of B. Weiss, " Life of Christ," Book I, Ch. IV, V ; J. Estlin Carpenter, " The First Three Gospels, their Origin and Relations," 1897, Ch.VIII-X ; and especially the painstaking and convincing study of Rogge, " Der irdische Besitz im N. T.," 1897, s. 91 ff. 1 John xii. 5 ; xiii. 29. THE RICH 193 difference. In the first place, while the record of the two gospels is often obviously identical in origin, it happens in almost every instance that, where Matthew and Luke report the same incident or saying concerning the rich or the poor, the passage in Luke takes a severer or more universal form of condemnation of the one class, or of commendation of the other. Where Matthew says, " Give to him that asketh thee " (t<» ahovvri o-e So'?),1 Luke says : " Give to every one " {iravrl alrovvrC ere S(Bov) ; 2 where Matthew says, " Sell that thou hast " {traKr^crov Ta inrdp^ovra), 3 (Mark, oaa e'x«?), Luke says, "Sell all that thou hast" {irdvra oaa £%ei? trwX-qaov) . i Wh ere the beatitude in Matthew reads : " Blessed are the poor in spirit," 5 Luke says, "Blessed are ye poor,"6 and reen- forces this modification with the added phrase, " But woe unto you that are rich ! " 7 Where Mat thew says, "But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven," 8 Luke says, " Sell that ye have, and give alms."9 According to Matthew there are brought to the great supper both bad and good,10 but in Luke the Lord of the supper says, " Bring in hither the poor and maimed and blind and lame." n To this marked difference of emphasis must be added the further fact that the most radical teachings and illustrations concerning the 1 Matt. v. 42. 5 Matt. v. 3. 9 Luke xii. 33. 2 Luke vi. 30. 6 Luke vi. 20. 10 Matt. xxii. 10. 8 Matt. xix. 21. 7 Luke vi. 24. n Luke xiv. 21. 4 Luke xviii. 22. 8 Matt. vi. 20. 194 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION perils of wealth are to be found in the third gos pel alone. Here appear the story of Dives and Lazarus,1 of the foolish rich man,2 of the unjust steward,3 and the conversation about inheritance.4 It is in Luke alone that the prophetic word is utilized : " And the rich he hath sent empty away." 5 In short, between Matthew and Luke there is as marked a difference of teaching as may be found in modern literature between the teach ing of an earnest philanthropist and the teaching of a socialist agitator. It is quite within the truth to speak of Luke as the "socialist-evangelist."6 What is to be regarded as the probable cause of this striking peculiarity of the third gospel ? The most obvious interpretation which suggests itself is that the character of the gospel reflects the character of its author. Luke, it is said, like Paul, with whom he lived and taught, had a larger social experience and a keener human sympathy than the other evangelists. His mind, therefore, seized on the radical sayings of Jesus in their original sternness of tone, where Matthew softened and spiritualized such words into conformity with pro vincial habits of mind. Thus, the socialist-evan gelist best understood his Master, and the teaching 1 Luke xvi. 20. 8 Luke xvi. 1-13. 6 Luke i. 53. 2 Luke xii. 16-21. 4 Luke xii. 13, 6 Rogge, p. 10 (citing H. Holtzmann in " Prot. Kirchenzeitung," 1894). But compare, also, as diminishing the significance of these contrasts, the comment on the general habit of mind of Luke, in Plummer, " Commentary on Luke," p. lxii. THE RICH 195 of Jesus concerning the rich is to be found in Luke. This view of the relation of the gospels, how ever, leaves out of account several of the most sig nificant aspects of the New Testament. In the first place, it is inconsistent with the general prin ciple of criticism, that of two readings of equal external authority the more spiritual reading is the more likely to reproduce the Master's words. Other things being equal, it is not probable that the more obvious meaning is original, and that the more spiritual signification is superimposed. Of the two readings, " Blessed are the poor in spirit," and "Blessed are ye poor," it is on the face of things not likely that the peculiar depth and beauty of the truth which the first passage expresses should be a gloss upon the superficial, not to say the questionable, teaching of the second passage. Further, without undertaking to enter elaborately into the much debated problem of the Paulinism of the third gospel, it is obvious that, in the attitude of that gospel toward poverty and wealth, we meet a characteristic which is very remote from the habitual teaching and example of Paul. To regard poverty as in any degree a test for admittance to the kingdom of God, or to dis criminate against the prosperous simply because of their prosperity, is quite contrary to the spirit of the robust, sagacious, and independent apostle to the Gentiles. He perceives, it is true, that " Not many wise, . . . , not many mighty, not I96 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION many noble, are called ; " 1 but it is not a part of his purpose to reproach the rich or to identify holiness with poverty. For his own part he will be, he says, a charge to no man. " For ye remem ber, brethren, our labour and travail : working night and day, that we might not burden any of you."2 It is true that Paul regards it a despising of the Church of God to " put them to shame that have not;" 3 and that he urges contentment with what one has ; 4 yet he has a place for the rich also in the world of Christian service. Within the churches which he organizes there are disciples prosperous enough to undertake missionary con tributions. " So, then, as we have opportunity," Paul says to them, " let us work that which is good toward all men, and especially toward them that are of the household of the faith." 5 " God loveth a cheerful giver." 6 He welcomes missionary gifts from the church at Philippi as a sacrifice "accept able, well-pleasing to God."7 He bids Timothy to charge the rich "that they do good, that they be rich in good works." 8 Finally, in his most comprehensive statement of Christian character, he explicitly announces that the abandonment of possessions does not necessarily indicate holiness. "And if I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, . . . but have not love, it profiteth me nothing."9 Here is a habit of mind so dif- 1 1 Cor. i. 26. 4 Phil. iv. 11. ' Phil. iv. 18. 2 1 Thess. ii. 9. 6 Gal. vi. 10. s 1 Tim. vi. 18. 8 I Cor. xi. 22. 6 2 Cor. ix. 7. 9 1 Cor. xiii. 3. THE RICH 197 ferent from that which is illustrated in many pas sages of the third gospel, that so far as this single problem of the right to property has any bearing on the general question of relationship between Luke and Paul, it certainly seems to indicate no close kinship of spirit or aim. There is another and more general point of view from which this contrast between Luke and Paul may be considered. When we scrutinize the New Testament as a whole we observe that the same line of cleavage which is to be noticed between the third gospel and the epistles of Paul appears to run between other books also, and divides the literature of the New Testament into two general groups. With the third gospel seem to group themselves the introductory chapters of the book of Acts and the epistle of James ; and with Paul's epistles the gospels of Matthew and of Mark. A situation thus presents itself which is in sharp con trast with the usual grouping of New Testament books, and of which New Testament criticism has thus far taken but small account. The first gospel, for instance, is beyond question colored in many respects by the Palestinian tradition, and the third gospel is, in general, adapted to Gentile readers; but when we examine the social teach ing of the two there is exhibited a reversal of these relationships, and the first gospel rather than the third appears to free itself from the pressing trials of Palestinian poverty and relief. Into the interesting critical question thus opened I98 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION it is not possible here to enter, but the general line of cleavage is not easy to mistake.1 The book of Acts begins in a tone of lofty ecstasy, prompted by that confident belief in an imminent cosmic catastrophe which made the first disciples indifferent to social conditions or social change. They testified to their freedom from the ordinary limitations of life by their gift of tongues,2 and they expressed their indifference to social distinc tions by having "all things common."3 The epistle of James goes beyond indifference to possessions and positively indicts the prosperous as sinners. Its language is that of unsparing attack and bitter irony. " Go to now, ye rich," concludes this most radical of New Testament writers, "weep and howl for your miseries that are coming upon you." 4 On the other hand, the first two gospels move in a world of tranquil and unimpassioned narrative, less virile in teach ings concerning worldly independence than the self-respecting judgments of Paul, but exhibiting no rigid discrimination between social classes.5 What does this general contrast among New Testament books indicate as to the prevailing conditions of primitive Christian life ? It reminds us of that contrast of social condition and habit 1 On this distinction of New Testament Books, see the interesting discussion of Rogge {pp. cit.), s. 68 ff. 2 Acts ii. 4. s Acts ii. 44. 4 James v. I. 6 See the essay of Th. Zahn, "Die soziale Frage und die innere Mission nach dem Briefe des Jakobus," in his " Skizze aus dem Leben der alten Kirche," 1898, s. g^. THE RICH I99 of mind which, as has been frequently observed, existed between the Palestinian and the Gen tile communities. The disciples at Jerusalem, in the lofty enthusiasm of their first fellowship, threw down the barriers of ownership as they did those of language, and had one speech and one purse. It was, as we have already seen, not a prearranged and institutional communism, but, as Peter expressly calls it,1 a voluntary sharing of what was needed. While it remained, it remained one's own, and when it was sold it was still in one's power. Even this relation, however, was one which could not be realized in an enlarging Church. As we proceed in the book of Acts itself, the social types associating themselves with the new religion become more and more varied, until persons of every social condition, Pharisees2 and fishermen,3 the treasurer of Candace,4 the proconsul Paulus,6 Dio- nysius the Areopagite,6 Crispus,7 the head of a Jewish synagogue, together with many who must be cared for by alms from "the daily ministration,"8 come into view as acceptable members of Christian congregations. Nor must we forget the inevitable effect upon the congregations of Palestine of the social teach ing represented by the epistle of James. The less honorable poor flocked, it would seem, with the devout to such communities, until at last the 1 Acts v. 4. 4 Acts viii. 27. 7 Acts xviii. 8. 2 Acts xxiii. 6. 6 Acts xiii. 7. 8 Acts vi. I. 8 Matt. iv. 18. 6 Acts xvii. 34. 200 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION church in Jerusalem, in spite of its noble desire to have all things in common, was so impoverished as to lose the capacity for self-support, and became dependent on alms contributed by the Gentile churches. It was a curious nemesis which followed the identification of the religion of Jesus with a special economic condition. James might continue to fulminate against the iniquities of the rich, but the communities to which he wrote sank into a progressive pauperization from whose results they were relieved by the more virile and thrifty con gregations bred in the spirit of the self-supporting Paul. Such, it may not unreasonably be believed, were the circumstances in which two different ways of regarding wealth and poverty came to exist within the literature of the New Testament. In the Pales tinian communities, where the faithful found them selves more and more impoverished and defenceless, every saying of Jesus was cherished which seemed to comfort the poor or to rebuke the prosper ous ; in the missionary churches, on the other hand, the distinctions and animosities of social classes were subordinated to the larger mission to which the Christian religion was called ; and when the same sayings of Jesus were repeated, it was their spiritual significance which was recalled. " Blessed are ye poor," 2 says the church in Palestine, for the solace of its oppressed disciples ; " Blessed are the poor in spirit," 2 repeats the spiritual tradition, for 1 Luke vi. 20. 2 Matt. v. 3. THE RICH 20 1 the humbling of unchristian pride. " So also shall the rich man fade away in his goings," says James.1 " For all things are yours ; . . . and ye are Christ's," 2 answers Paul. These conjectures, however, carry us some what beyond our present purpose. It is enough to recognize, running through the New Testament, two radically divergent traditions concerning the relation of riches to the Christian life. Accord ing to the one tradition the only consistent Chris tian is a poor man ; according to the other the true riches and the real poverty are of the soul. If then we are to inquire which of these two tra ditions represents the original teaching of Jesus, it is impossible to rest on the authority of any single passage in the gospels or even on the authority of any single gospel. Behind these partial expressions of the teaching, one must ob serve the more general aspects and relations of the Master's life. What, we must ask, was the habitual attitude of Jesus toward the rich and the poor as he walked and talked with both ? With whom did he most naturally live ? To whom did he most entirely give his heart ? Whom did he welcome as his friends and followers ? What is the relation of his teaching to the views which prevailed in his own time and nation concerning poverty and wealth ? Summing up his scattered instructions, comparing his various parables, and observing the general direction of his mind and 1 James i. II. z 1 Cor. iii. 21, 23. 202 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION the habitual rule of his life, what was the burden of his message to the rich ? In order to reach an answer to these questions it is necessary, first, to recall the social environ ment of the ministry of Jesus, the world of people and of ideas into which he entered and through which he moved. The people who were the first to welcome him were certainly not of the rich and ruling classes, but, as a rule, plain and unassum ing folk. This, however, is by no means equiva lent to saying that the immediate followers of Jesus were drawn exclusively from those who in the modern sense, could be called poor. On the contrary, the gospel story, with all its tender feeling for the poor, moves for the most part through a social environment quite above the range of poverty. Jesus himself was born in a home which cannot be classified either as rich or poor. He was educated, both in letters and in handicraft. When he entered upon his public life, there is no sign that the social peril of wealth was in any degree burdening his heart. When at the outset of his ministry he was tempted of the devil, the solicitations which were presented to him were not those of riches, but those of fame, power, and self-display. When, further, we consider the social condition of the persons first won by his teaching, we are met by many different social types.1 Among those who 1 Rogge, p. 20 ff. ; H. Holtzmann, " Die ersten Christen und die soziale Frage," s. 23 ; New World, June, 1899, p. 305. THE RICH 203 flocked to a teacher who renewed their hope and self-respect were indeed many penniless and bur den-bearing outcasts ; yet within the circle of his intimacy and confidence there were persons of all degrees of prosperity. The fishermen who were first called by him were by no means penniless or homeless, but were people of reasonable prosperity. They "left their father . . . with the hired servants, and went after him."1 One of them "was known unto the high priest, and entered in with Jesus into the court of the high priest." 2 At the death of their Master they returned to their boats and trade.3 Peter was a householder, to whose home Jesus came when Peter's wife's mother lay sick.4 In the house of Matthew the tax-gatherer, Jesus sat at meat ; 5 " and many publicans and sinners sat down with Jesus and his disciples." 6 Zacchseus was a chief publican, "and he was rich." "The half of my goods," he said to Jesus, "I give to the poor;" and Jesus commends him and welcomes him, say ing, "To-day is salvation come to this house."7 Nicodemus, "a ruler of the Jews,"8 is addressed by Jesus with astonishing candor ; but there is no rebuke of the Pharisee's prosperity. The captain of the guard,9 a person of social impor tance and authority, is not censured by Jesus, but honored with special praise. "Joanna the 1 Mark i. 20. i Matt. viii. 14. T Luke xix. 2, 8, 9. 2 John xviii. 15. 6 Matt. ix. 10. 8 John iii. I. 8 John xxi. 3 ff. ° Mark ii. 15; Matt. ix. 10. 9 Matt. viii. 10. 204 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION wife of Chuza Herod's steward, and Susanna, and many others," being — it must be in ferred — women of means, "ministered unto them of their substance." l The home at Bethany, in which Jesus repeatedly found tranquil release from the pressure of his public life, was a home of comfort, if not of luxury, and there was in it "anointment of spikenard, very precious."2 Fi nally, Joseph of Arimathea, " being a disciple of Jesus," provides a tomb for the crucified Master, and comes with Nicodemus, "bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about a hundred pound weight." 3 Here are sufficient indications that no single social type monopolized the sympathy or accept ance of Jesus. Whatever may be gladly ad mitted concerning the special tenderness of his teaching when he speaks of the poor, and how ever true it is that "the common people heard him gladly," 4 there is certainly no ground for believing that Jesus proposed to array the poor against the rich or to set the one social class on his right hand and the other on his left. The fact is that his teaching moved in a world of thought and desire where such distinctions be came unimportant, and a profounder principle of classification was applied. He gathered about himself all sorts and conditions of men and women ; he passed without any sign of conscious 1 Luke viii. 3. a John xix. 38, 39. 2 John xii. 3. 4 Mark xii. 37. THE RICH 205 transition from the company of the rich to that of the poor and back to that of the rich again. He was equally at home at the table of the pros perous Zacchaeus, in the quiet home at Bethany, and in the company of the blind beggar by the wayside.1 He lavished his great utterances with equal freedom on the scholarly Nicodemus2 and on the ignorant and foolish woman by the well.3 In short, his categories of social judgment are not those of wealth and poverty. His thought is directed toward the fulfilment of the kingdom of God. Whatever type of character he discovers which seems contributory to that ideal he spon taneously and often abruptly accepts, and what ever circumstances, on the other hand, appear to hinder that great consummation must be, according to his teaching, at any sacrifice escaped or overcome. Here must have been one source of joy in listening to Jesus. Men found them selves no longer identified with a single social class, having special limitations of teachableness or capacity ; they were brought into sight of the comprehensive unity of human ideals and needs, in which the distinctions of social groups were lost in a larger companionship. It was the joy of the narrow stream when it flows out at last into the comprehensive ocean and meets the infinite variety of other streams from which its own course has been hitherto shut away. This elevation of the mind of Jesus above the 1 Mark x. 46. 2 John iii. 1-21. 3 John iv. 7-26. 206 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION region of social differences is further indicated when one considers his relation to that view of poverty and wealth which was current among his own people and in his own time. There still sur vived about him a national tradition that piety should bring with it prosperity ; yet, in spite of their piety, his people were plundered and op pressed by the unsanctified Romans, and the prophecy of an external reward for righteousness seemed far from fulfilled. Here was a social condition contrary both to their religious hope and to their national instinct of money-getting, and the Hebrew people were filled with bitter ness and wrath toward those who were, at the same time, unholy and prosperous. "To pass through their literature," it has been justly said, "is like passing through Dante's Inferno, except that nowhere appears any trace of that Divine pity which the great Italian permits."1 There came to exist among them what has been called a "genius for hatred " of the rich. " Woe unto you," says the book of Enoch, " who heap up silver and gold and say, We are growing rich and possess all we desire." "Your riches shall not remain for you, but shall suddenly disappear ; because you have gained all unjustly, and you yourselves shall re ceive greater damnation."2 Into this social environment of embittered poverty and cultivated hate, with no solution 1 Rogge (op. cit.), s. 34, with many illustrative citations. 2 Enoch xcvii. 8 ff. THE RICH * 207 at its command for the paradox of poverty and piety, enters the new comprehensiveness of the teaching of Jesus. Prosperity, he preaches, is no sign of Divine acceptance ; on the contrary, it is one of the most threatening obstructions of the spiritual life. The desire of the nation, therefore, should be turned altogether away from the thought of wealth as a sign of piety, or of poverty as a sign of Divine disfavor. Let the poor take heart again. They have no reason to envy or to hate the rich. Let them rather realize how hard it is for a rich man to enter into the kingdom. There is but one supreme end for the life of rich and poor alike, — the service of the kingdom ; and there is but one fundamental decision for all to make, — the deci sion whether they will serve God or Mammon. In short, in striking contrast with the tradition and literature of hate with which he was un doubtedly familiar, Jesus surveys the relation of the rich and the poor from above, in the light of his ideal of the kingdom ; and a new sense of hope and self-respect springs up in many a per plexed and questioning mind as Jesus summons it to a way of life of which neither wealth nor poverty is the key, and of which, on the other hand, neither wealth nor poverty is an absolute obstacle. "Lay not up," he says, "for yourselves treasures upon the earth, ... for where thy treas ure is, there will thy heart be also." 1 Thus the teaching of Jesus is, in one sense, extra- 1 Matt. vi. 19, 21. 208 JESUS CHRIST *AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION ordinarily detached from the problem of social distinctions and commercial prosperity. Jesus is not a social demagogue ; he is a spiritual seer. He is not concerned with the levelling of social classes, but with the elevating of social ideals. He welcomes a life for its own sake, not for its circumstances of wealth or of poverty. Does this characteristic of the teaching of Jesus, how ever, render his message to the rich as a special class any less distinct or solemn or profound ? On the contrary, out of his fragmentary utter ances and occasional parables there issues a teach ing quite as radical in its character and quite as searching in its demands as any modern arraign ment of wealth, but with a touch of wisdom and a balance of judgment which make it a teaching, not for a special age or class, but for all condi tions and all times. The scattered utterances of Jesus about the problem of wealth fall into two distinct classes. On the one hand is the series of sayings which deal with the faithful use of one's possessions ; and, on the other hand, are the passages which plainly demand the abandonment of such posses sions. In the parables, for instance, of the talents 1 and of the pounds,2 as in the stories of the unjust steward 3 and of the foolish rich man,4 there seems to be indicated, not the intrinsic evil of wealth, but the duty of fidelity, watchfulness, and fore- 1 Matt. xxv. 14-30. 8 Luke xvi. 1-13. 2 Luke xix. 13-27. 4 Luke xii. 16-21. THE RICH 209 sight in administering wealth. " Watch therefore, for ye know not the day nor the hour."1 "This night is thy soul required of thee." a " Well done, good and faithful servant." 3 " If therefore ye have not been faithful in the unrighteous mam mon, who will commit to your trust the true riches ? " 4 In such passages money appears to be regarded as a test. Faithfulness in the few things prepares for mastery over the many things. The mammon of unrighteousness may make friends who will receive one into the everlasting taber nacles. The same teaching is conveyed in that doctrine of cumulative returns which appears in the parable of the talents.5 Jesus is here as far as possible from the position of a social leveller. He discerns with extraordinary clearness the inevi tably cumulative results of the wise use of pos sessions, and announces a law of distribution, which is not only fundamentally opposed to the programme of the modern revolutionist, but is also far more in accord with the method of nature. " For unto every one that hath shall be given, . . . but from him that hath not, even that which he hath shall be taken away." 6 On the other hand, there remains a class of passages which no softened interpretation can render as teaching anything less than the abne gation of possessions. "Whosoever he be of you that renounceth not all that he hath, he cannot 1 Matt. xxv. 13. * Matt. xxv. 21. 6 Matt. xxv. 14-30. 2 Luke xii. 20. 4 Luke xvi. 11. 6 Matt. xxv. 29. p 210 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION be my disciple."1 "Sell all that thou hast, and distribute unto the poor, . . . and come, follow me;"2 and "they left all, and followed him."3 " Thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things : but now here he is comforted, and thou art in anguish." 4 Concerning some passages of this nature, it may be with justice urged that these absolute commands seem to have been laid, not on all men, but on that immediate group of disciples who were bidden in a peculiar degree to share their Master's wander ing life, and to detach themselves from the ties of business and home. Further, in the case of Dives and Lazarus, it is not unreasonable to infer that there must have been more involved in the original contrast of their destinies than a mere distinction of prosperity and pauperism.6 Even if Dives be condemned to anguish simply because he is rich, it is not easy to believe that Lazarus should be taken to heaven for no other reason than because he was poor. Yet, after all possible mitigation has been thus proposed for the severity of such sayings, there remains in many of them an unmis takable note of renunciation. The most conspicuous instance of this motif of renunciation is in the touching interview of Jesus with the rich young ruler ; 6 an incident recorded at length in all the first three gospels, as though 1 Luke xiv. 33. 2 Luke xviii. 22. 8 Luke v. 1 1 . 4 Luke xvi. 25. 6 Rogge, s. 66. 6 Matt. xix. 16-22 ; Mark x. 17-23 ; Luke xviii. 18 ff. THE RICH 211 specially treasured among the early tradition of the Master's words. This young man is both impulsive and reverent. First he runs to Jesus, and then he kneels before him, and Jesus, looking on him, loves him.1 It is a beautiful meeting of fair, frank youth with a wise, calm teacher; an offering of spontaneous loyalty on the one hand and an immediate impulse of affection on the other. Yet the charm of the youth does not soften in any degree the judgment of the Teacher. On the contrary, precisely because he loves him Jesus demands of him a great renunciation. One thing stands between that winsome youth and his service of the kingdom. It is his wealth. What can one who loves him propose but a heroic rem edy ? It is a case where alleviating treatment must fail, and where the wise physician must with apparent cruelty counsel a capital operation. It is a situation familiar in modern life. A young man, well born and well bred, winsome and gallant, is withheld from the effective use of his life by the weight of his possessions. If he could only forget that he was rich and give himself to strenuous work, he might do gallant service. If some dra matic summons like that of an actual war is heard by him, the follies of his luxury and self-indulgence drop away from him, and he becomes the most enduring and daring of soldiers. Meantime, how ever, here he is, with hardly a fair chance for a useful life, turning play into work, and sinking into 1 Mark x. 21. 212 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION a false and foolish estimate of life and happiness. What hope is there for such a young man except through some radical change, curative though cruel, like the surgeon's knife ? It was thus that Jesus, loving the young ruler, demanded much of him ; and one can imagine the loving pity with which Jesus, when the young man shrank from the only operation which could save him, "looked round about, and saith unto his disciples, How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God I"1 Here, then, in the teaching of Jesus, are two views of wealth which are apparently in conflict, — the thought of wealth as a trust to be used and the thought of wealth as a peril to be escaped; the physician's prescription for social health, and the surgeon's remedy from spcial death. Does this variation indicate any inconsistency or ambi guity in the teaching of Jesus ? On the contrary, the very essence of his message to the rich is to be found in its twofold quality. It is not impossible for Jesus to unite severity with love. He per ceives with perfect distinctness that the most immediate and insidious peril to the Christian life is to come from the love of money. Vulgarity, ostentation, envy, ambition, self-conceit, mate rial standards of happiness — the qualities which make people unspiritual, unteachable, unresponsive to the light — are the attendants of the god Mam mon. The issue is therefore undisguised. No 1 Mark x. 23. THE RICH 213 man can serve two masters ; no man can have two Gods. The service of the kingdom demands the whole of a man, his possessions as well as his mind and heart. The teaching of Tesus permits., in no case the sense of absolute ownership. No man can say, "Is it not lawful for me to do what I will with mine own ? " 1 A man does not own his wealth, he owes it. Precisely as a busi ness man says to himself, I must invest and distribute a certain sum with special scrupulous ness because I administer it as a trustee, under a law which demands of me a special reckoning, so the disciple of Jesus acts in all concerns of his life as a servant who has heard the great word, " Be ye also ready : for in an hour that ye think not the Son of man cometh."2 If, then, such a listener to the teaching of Jesus has to confess to himself that he is in any degree owned by his money, if the thought of trusteeship tends to fade and the thought of a right to his possessions has crept in, if he is ex cusing the unrighteous gain of money by the benevolent use of money, or if he has come to a tacit contract with his soul that his superfluous means shall be the Lord's, and that with the rest he may say, " Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years ; take thine ease, eat, drink, be merry,"3 — then, according to the teaching of Jesus, the absolute and immediate renunciation of wealth is better than any self-deception. "It is 1 Matt. xx. 15. 2 Luke xii. 40. 8 Luke xii. 19. 214 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not thy whole body go into hell." l " For what is a man profited, if he gain the whole world, and lose or forfeit his own self?"2 In short, the doc trine of Jesus is one of solemn alternatives, in the presence of which each man must test the secrets of his heart. Is he able to look up into his Lord's face at some sudden coming and say, " Thou deliver edst unto me five talents : lo, I have gained other five"?3 Then his wealth has been his friend to lead him into the eternal tabernacles ; and the Owner of his wealth welcomes him with the word, " Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." 4 Or must there be, on the other hand, a hiding from so search ing a judgment, as of one who has worshipped another god and has left his trust uninvested and unfruitful ? Then the quicker and the more rudely the altar of Mammon is overthrown, the safer is that man from the overwhelming rebuke, " Cast ye out the unprofitable servant into the outer darkness : there shall be the weeping and gnash ing of teeth."5 Let no one fancy, then, that in translating this twofold teaching of Jesus into the language of the modern world he can make of it a more moderate or more tolerant message to the rich than the coarser utterances and more radical programmes of modern agitation. Jesus does not sentimen talize about the duties of wealth ; he sets forth 1 Matt. v. 30. 2 Luke ix. 25. 8 Matt. xxv. 20. 4 Matt. xxv. 21. 6 Matt. xxv. 30. THE RICH 215 with tranquil severity the alternatives which lie before the rich. If in any case riches obstruct the complete dedication of the life, then Jesus has no objection to offer to the most sweeping of modern demands for the abolition of rich men. Indeed, he goes beyond most of these demands. The modern attack on wealth would content itself if the share of profit which falls to the capitalist class could be greatly reduced. The teaching of Jesus, however, is not a doctrine of economic justice and equitable distribution ; he does not ask of a man a fair proportion of his personal profits ; he asks the whole of one's gains — and the life which lies behind the gains — for the service of the kingdom ; and the problem of economic dis tribution expands in his teaching into the greater problem of spiritual regeneration and preparedness.1 Such is the message of Jesus to the rich. He does not present a scheme of economic rearrange ment ; he issues a summons to the kingdom. He confronts a man, not with the problem of his com mercial rights, but with the problem of his own soul. To many a man, ensnared in the complex and intense conditions of modern life, to many a man and woman tempted almost beyond their strength by self-indulgence, narrow interests, and practical materialism, the message of Jesus comes 1 See the passage in Paulsen, " Ethik," s. 69, " Wealth is of no worth to the Christian. . . . But wealth is not only without worth ; it is a peril. Property is in itself not a sin, but to the property-holder it is an immense peril." 2l6 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION with convincing force. Such persons know well that it is hard for those who have riches to enter into the kingdom. They know how difficult it is to maintain religious ideals, genuine simplicity, and breadth of sympathy among the exotic and artifi cial circumstances of a prosperous life. They see how frequently the possession of riches becomes a curse, and how often the children for whom the father has labored are but the worse for the abundance which he has secured, as though they had asked him for bread and he had given them a stone. They have to confess that it is easier for the poor than for the rich to be poor in spirit. Such persons, however, when they look once more at the world of modern life, observe that the stern demand of Jesus is sometimes met ; that — here and there — riches are deliberately and consistently held as a trust from God, and the way of service is made broad and straight through the ministry of wealth ; and they recognize the wisdom of Jesus, when, having said so unreservedly, " How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God ! " 1 he is still able to say of the man who had faithfully used his many talents, " Blessed is that servant, ... Of a truth I say unto you, that he will set him over all that he hath." 2 If, then, on such terms there is a place in the kingdom for the rich, one is led to ask, finally, how wealth, thus regarded as a trust, may be legitimately used. Does the teaching of Jesus give any indica- 1 Luke xviii. 24. " Luke xii. 43, 44. THE RICH 217 tion of those employments of money which make for the purposes of the kingdom ? There seem to be at least three ways in which •Jesus welcomes the ministry of wealth as a part of {Christian service. First, there is the use of wealth ;in almsgiving. " Distribute unto the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven." x It is important, however, to note that almsgiving, though assumed by Jesus to be a habit of his followers, does not receive from him a high place among Christian vir tues. Jesus takes for granted that the consecration of life will lead to the distribution of possessions ; but he gives his chief attention, not to the stimu lating of almsgiving, but to the correcting of its mistakes and of the false estimate of value often attached to it. Almsgiving must be free from os tentation. " But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth."2 Ac ceptable almsgiving must be measured, not by the amount of the gift, but by the cost of the gift to the giver. "Verily I say unto you, This poor widow cast in more than all they which are casting into the treasury. " 3 Jesus himself, so far as the record shows, gave no alms, unless it can be accounted almsgiv ing to feed the multitude that they might be atten tive to his spiritual message. In the wonderful picture of the Judgment, 4 the commendation of the righteous is not bestowed because they distributed of their abundance to the poor, but because they 1 Luke xviii. 22. 3 Mark xii. 43. 2 Matt. vi. 3. 4 Matt. xxv. 35 ff. 2l8 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION gave of their personal service to the stranger, the prisoner, and the sick. While, therefore, it is true that almsgiving is accepted by the teaching of Jesus as a self-evident characteristic of his service, it has in itself nothing of that primacy among the virtues which through a great part of Christian history has been attributed to it, and which has made it often a sufficient cover for a multitude of sins. Very different from the teaching of Jesus con cerning expenditure in almsgiving are his allusions to a second use of money, — its ministry to hap piness and to beauty. It is only here and there in the gospels that the sense of the beautiful finds expression in the sombre and strenuous life of Jesus, as slanting sunbeams strike through a clouded and threatening day ; but when these rare flashes of aesthetic pleasure slant thus through his teaching they illuminate a side of his charac ter which has been from many devout Christians almost concealed. Jesus looks about him, at the birds of the air and the lilies of the field, and the sheer prodigality and loveliness of their lives make them fit illustrations of the method of God. Jesus sits among the happy guests at a wedding feast and enters joyously into the festive spirit of that scene. He is called a winebibber and publican because he does not sternly shun occasions of genial hospi tality and happy companionship. More impres sively still his appreciation of non-utilitarian expenditure is exhibited in the story of the woman THE RICIJ- 219 with the box of ointment," — a story which fastened upon the minds of those who heard it so strongly that it appears in various connections in all four gospels.1 The incident presented a clear issue between the use of money for imaginative symbol ism and the use of money for almsgiving. The disciples " had indignation, saying, To what pur pose is this waste ? For this ointment might have been sold for much, and given to the poor." 2 Jesus, however, perceives that there are other needs of human life to be considered besides mere main tenance of life. "Man shall not live by bread alone." 3 As the woman pours out her prodigal offering it is as if in answer to the deep human demand for the beautiful, the suggestive, the sac rificial ; and Jesus greets her gift as he greeted the beauty of the lilies, with their suggestion of that Divine completeness which he desired to reveal. "Verily I say unto you, Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached in the whole world, that also which this woman hath done shall be spoken of for a memorial of her."4 Here is the charter of all undertakings which propose in the name of Christ to feed the mind, to stir the imagination, to quicken the emotions, to make life less meagre, less animal, less dull. " The limit of luxury," a modern worker among the poor has remarked, "is the power of 1 Matt. xxvi. 7 ; Mark xiv. 3 ; Luke vii. 37 ; John xii. 3. Compare Stopford Brooke, "Christ in Modern Life," Sermon XVIII, " Art Expenditure." 2 Matt. xxvi. 8, 9. 8 Luke iv. 4. * Matt. xxvi. 13. 220 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION sharing." l Expenditure of wealth on art, on edu cation, on music, on the opening of the resources of nature to the weary life of cities, on the eman cipation of mankind from commercial standards, on the provision of humanizing and symbolic ways of pleasure, — is not only justified through its ele vating and educative effect, but it rests also on the explicit authority of the teaching of Jesus Christ. It is not always better to spend for such ends than to give to the poor, but it is equally legitimate. The Christian life would be meagre indeed if it could offer no welcome to the unre flecting and spontaneous sacrifice of the heart. Both of these services of money, however, — its benevolent and its aesthetic use, — recognized as they are by Jesus, are subordinated in his teaching to a third use which receives from him repeated ' commendation. One is almost startled to discover that this most Christian employment of posses sions is simply their scrupulous and honorable use in that special work which one is called upon to do. The Christian world has become familiar with a double standard of ethics. It has refrained from scrutinizing closely the methods by which men get their money, and has reserved its judgment for the methods by which they spend their money. A man in the world of affairs may engage in questionable occupations or undertakings if he redeems himself by the consecration of his spoils. The world's work, it is often felt, demands one 1 Barnett, " The Service of God," p. 99. THE RICH 221 standard of business, and what is described as " Christian work " demands another standard. The service of Mammon brings such large re turns that it may come to seem contributory to the service of God. Probably nothing so degrades the Christian religion in the view of men of the world as the conformity of Christian churches or Christian believers to this doctrine of ethical bi metallism. To see a man of the double standard accepted among the saints and a distinction per mitted between the principles of the business world and of the Christian Church, is enough to drive from the influence of religion many a man who has no rule of life but to be consistent and incorruptible in his daily work. He cannot believe that a debased coinage is valid for religious use. With this judgment of men of affairs the teach ing of Jesus precisely coincides. Jesus has noth ing but condemnation for the divided life. The fundamental principle of his teaching about wealth is the principle that there cannot be two masters or two gods. His severest sayings are directed against the hypocrites, who in their business " de vour widows' houses," and in the synagogues "make long prayers."1 Consistency is, to Jesus, the beginning of the Christian life. His judg ment, therefore, is not primarily pronounced on a man as he is praying or giving alms or per forming what are technically called religious du ties, but as the man is engaged in his common, 1 Mark xii. 40. 222 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION unsanctified, daily business. The pictures of the religious life which the gospels most frequently present are drawn from scenes of the commercial world. A man, going into another country, calls his servants and delivers unto them his goods.1 A nobleman calls his ten servants and gives them ten pounds, saying, "Trade ye herewith till I come."2 A man leaves his home and gives "au thority to his servants, to each one his work," commanding also "the porter to watch."3 A man plants a vineyard and lets it out to husbandmen, " that he might receive from the husbandmen of the fruits of the vineyard."4 Who are these ser vants, these traders, these porters, these vine dressers ? They represent the persons whom Jesus desires for his disciples ; and they are per forming precisely that kind of service which he wishes his disciples to render. Who, on the other hand, are the persons who receive from him his most solemn warnings or most terrific condemna tion? They are the servants who neglect their trust ; 5 the porter who sleeps at his post, 6 the husbandmen who fancy there is to be no reck oning, 7 the trader who deals with his Lord's money less scrupulously than he would with his own.8 " Out of thine own mouth will I judge thee, thou wicked servant."9 "What therefore will the lord of the vineyard do ? he will come and 1 Matt. xxv. 14. 4 Mark xii. 2. 7 Mark xii. I-II. 2 Luke xix. 13. 6 Matt. xxv. 24-30. 8 Luke xix. 20-24. 8 Mark xiii. 34. 6 Mark xiii. 34. 9 Luke xix. 22. THE RICH 223 destroy the husbandmen, and will give the vine yard unto others." 1 More characteristic, that is to say, of the Christian life than the most gener ous almsgiving or the most suggestive aestheticism is the manifestation of consistent fidelity in the conduct of one's own affairs. The first searching of a man's heart should not concern the Chris tian distribution of his gains, but the Christian getting of his gains. The highest commendation of Jesus is given, not to the munificent alms giver, but to the faithful steward, the watchful porter, the scrupulous servant. It was once said of the Messiah that "his voice should not be heard in the street " ; but, if we may translate those words into the language of modern business, it is precisely " in the street " that the message of Jesus to the rich is delivered; and no self-decep tion of the prosperous can be greater than the belief that this judgment of Jesus on the con duct of one's daily business can be mitigated or transferred. Who, then, is the Christian rich man ? It is he who recognizes that in the management of his wealth he is in the presence of a constant and subtle temptation ; that, as Jesus said, there is in the nature of increasing wealth a peculiar quality of "deceitfulness," so that the money which is at first one's servant is at any moment likely to become one's master. The Christian rich man knows well that it is hard for him to enter the 1 Mark xii. 9. 224 JESUS CHRIST AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION kingdom of God. He observes the characters of many men shrivel in the flame of prosperity. He sees that conditions of luxury, ease, and lack of the friction of life contribute to a slackening of moral fibre. He holds before himself, therefore, the solemn alternatives of Jesus, — the mastery of wealth, or the abandonment of it. Thus the wealth of the Christian rich man becomes to him a trust, for the use of which he is to be scrupu lously judged. He administers his affairs with watchfulness over himself and with hands clean of malice, oppression, or deceit. He does not hope to atone for evil ways of making money by osten tatious benevolence in spending it. He is to be judged according to his ways of accumulating wealth as rigidly as for his ways of distributing wealth. He is not hard in business and soft in charity, but of one fibre throughout. His busi ness is a part of his religion, and his philanthropy is a part of his business. He leads his life, he is not led by it. His five talents produce other five. And who is the Christian rich woman ? It is she who finds it not impossible to be rich in purse and poor in spirit. She accepts her opportunity watch fully. She knows herself a servant of whom much is required. In the midst of a world of foolishness and vanity she maintains simplicity and good sense. She is equally at home among the rich and the poor. No severer test of the Christian life than this can be proposed for any woman, and no fairer type of character is to be met than that which THE RICH 225 issues from such a test, having passed through the needle's eye. If Jesus Christ should come again, he would know what it has cost a man to put under his foot the lust of riches, or a woman to keep her heart clean from the temptations of self-indulgence. Into the homes of such men and women, however splendid their homes may be, Jesus would enter gladly, as he entered the home of Zacchaeus or that of Martha and Mary. On such a man, on such a woman, he would look with a peculiar love, as he looked on the young man with great posses sions. The conflict with Mammon has prepared for such a soul the way to eternal habitations. The servant stands ready for the Master's reckon ing, and the Master comes and says : " Well done, . . . enter into the joy of thy Lord." CHAPTER V THE TEACHING OF JESUS CONCERNING THE CARE OF THE POOR TOjen shall the righteous ansfoer him, gaging, ILorB, tofjensafo foe tljee an hungereB, ano feB thee? or athirst, anB gatie thee orinft? &nB fohen sain foe tljee a stranger, anB took thee in ? or nalteB, anB clotfjeo tijee 7 &nB fohen sain foe thee strft, or in prison, ano came unto thee ?