Chapter II: Part 2
"For Christians, it will be enough to know that our Lord, Jesus
Christ, set the seal of His infallible sanction on the whole of the
Old Testament. He found the Hebrew canon as we have it in our
hands to-day, and He treated it as an authority which was above
discussion. Nay, more; He went out of His way--if we may reverently
speak thus,--to sanction not a few portions of it which modern
scepticism rejects."
Besides open enemies, the Bible has enemies who are less frank--enemies who, while claiming to be friends of Christianity, spend their time undermining faith in God, faith in the Bible, and faith in Christ. These professed friends call themselves higher critics--a title which--though explained by them as purely technical--smacks of an insufferable egotism. They assume an air of superior intelligence and look down with mingled pity and contempt upon what they regard as poor, credulous humanity. The higher critic is more dangerous than the open enemy. The atheist approaches you boldly and tries to blow out your light, but, as you know who he is, what he is trying to do and why, you can protect yourself. The higher critic, however, comes to you in the guise of a friend and politely inquires: "Isn't the light too near your eyes? I fear it will injure your sight." Then he moves the light away, a little at a time, until it is only a speck and then--invisible.
Some who have used the title "higher critic" have approached their subject in a reverent spirit and laboured earnestly in the vain hope of satisfying intellectual doubts, when the real trouble has been with the hearts of objectors rather than with their heads. Religion is a matter of the heart, and the impulses of the heart often seem foolish to the mind. Faith is different from, and superior to, reason. Faith is a spiritual extension of the vision--a moral sense that reaches out toward the throne of God and takes hold of verities that the mind cannot grasp. It is like "the blind leading the blind" for a higher critic, however honest, to rely on purely intellectual methods to convey truths that are "spiritually discerned."
As a rule, however, the so-called higher critic is a man without spiritual vision, without zeal for souls and without any deep interest in the coming of God's Kingdom. He toils not in the Master's vineyard and yet "Solomon in all his glory" never laid claim to such wisdom as he boasts. He does not accept the Bible nor defend it; he mutilates it. He puts the Bible on the operating table and cuts out the parts that he thinks are "diseased." When he has finished his work the Bible is no longer the Book of books: it is simply "a scrap of paper."
The higher critic (I speak now of the rule and not of the exceptions) begins his investigations with his opinion already formed. After he has discarded the Bible because he cannot harmonize it with the doctrine of evolution, he labours to find evidence to support his preconceived notions. In matters of religion the higher critic is usually a "dyspeptic." The Bible does not agree with him; he has not the spiritual fluids in sufficient quantity to enable him to digest the miracle and the supernatural. He is a doubter and spreads doubts.
Dr. Franklin Johnson, in Volume 2, of "Fundamentals" says (pages 55, 56, 57): "A third fallacy of the higher critics is the doctrine concerning the Scriptures which they teach. If a consistent hypothesis of evolution is made the basis of our religious thinking, the Bible will be regarded as only a product of human nature working in the field of religious literature. It will be merely a natural book."...
Again: "Yet another fallacy of the higher critics is found in their teachings concerning the Biblical miracles. If the hypothesis of evolution is applied to the Scriptures consistently, it will lead us to deny all the miracles which they record."...
And: "Among the higher critics who accept some of the miracles there is a notable desire to discredit the virgin birth of our Lord, and their treatment of this event presents a good example of the fallacies of reasoning by means of which they would abolish many of the other miracles."
Professor Reeve, in a strong article in Volume 3 of "Fundamentals" (pages 98, 99) tells us of his own excursion into the fields of higher criticism, of his disappointment and of his glad return to the interpretations of the Bible that are generally accepted. Speaking of his first impressions, he says:
"The critics seemed to have the logical things on their side. The
results at which they had arrived seemed inevitable. But upon closer
thinking, I saw that the whole movement, with its conclusion, was
the result of the adoption of the hypothesis of evolution."...
"It became more and more obvious to me that the great movement was
entirely intellectual, an attempt in reality to intellectualize all
religious phenomena. I saw also that it was a partial and one-sided
intellectualism, with a strong bias against the fundamental tenets
of Biblical Christianity. Such a movement does not produce that
intellectual humility which belongs to the Christian mind. On the
contrary, it is responsible for a vast amount of intellectual pride,
an aristocracy of intellect with all the snobbery which usually
accompanies that term. Do they not exactly correspond to Paul's
word, 'vainly puffed up in his fleshly mind and not holding fast the
head, etc.' They have a splendid scorn for all opinions which do not
agree with theirs. Under the spell of this sublime contempt they
think they can ignore anything that does not square with their
evolutionary hypothesis. The center of gravity of their thinking is
in the theoretical, not in the religious; in reason, not in faith.
Supremely satisfied with its self-constituted authority, the mind
thinks itself competent to criticize the Bible, the thinking of all
the centuries, and even Jesus Christ Himself. The followers of this
cult have their full share of the frailties of human nature. Rarely,
if ever, can a thoroughgoing critic be an evangelist or even
evangelistic; he is educational. How is it possible for a preacher
to be a power of God, whose source of authority is his own reason
and convictions? The Bible can scarcely contain more than good
advice for such a man."
In Volume 2 of "Fundamentals" (page 84), Sir Robert Anderson has this to say:
"The effect of this 'Higher Criticism' is extremely grave. For it
has dethroned the Bible in the home, and the good old practice of
'family worship' is rapidly dying out. And great national interests
also are involved. For who can doubt that the prosperity and power
of the nations of the world are due to the influence of the Bible
upon the character and conduct? Races of men who for generations
have been taught to think for themselves in matters of the highest
moment will naturally excel in every sphere of effort or of
enterprise. And more than this, no one who is trained in the fear of
God will fail in his duty to his neighbour, but will prove himself a
good citizen. But the dethronement of the Bible leads practically
to the dethronement of God; and in Germany and America, and now in
England, the effects of this are declaring themselves in ways, and
to an extent, well fitted to cause anxiety for the future."
The experience of Rev. Paul Kanamori, known as the "Japanese Billy Sunday" furnishes an excellent illustration of the chilling effect of higher criticism. He was converted when a student and, after a period of preaching, became a professor in a theological seminary in Japan. Dr. Robert E. Speer, in a preface to a published sermon of Mr. Kanamori, thus describes the great evangelist's temporary retirement from the ministry and its cause:
"He began to read upon the most recent German theology, with
the result that he was completely swept off his feet by the
rationalistic New Theology, Higher Criticism, etc. Not long after
that he published his new views under the title, 'The present and
future of Christianity in Japan,' and retired from the ministry....
He remained in this state of spiritual darkness for twenty years,
until the death of his wife brought him and his children into great
trouble, but after passing through these deep waters he came out
again with a clear and firm belief in the old-fashioned gospel"
("The Three-Hour Sermon," page 8).
Since Mr. Kanamori's return to the ministry he has been the means of leading nearly fifty thousand Japanese to Christ--probably more than the total number of souls brought into the Church by all the higher critics combined.
Rev. T. De Witt Talmage, one of the great preachers of the last generation, thus speaks of the higher critics:
"When I see ministers of religion finding fault with the Scriptures,
it makes me think of a fortress terrifically bombarded, and the men
on the ramparts, instead of swabbing out and loading the guns and
helping to fetch up the ammunition from the magazine, are trying
with crowbars to pry out from the wall certain blocks of stone,
because they did not come from the right quarry. Oh, men on the
ramparts, better fight back and fight down the common enemy, instead
of trying to make breaches in the wall."
It is a deserved rebuke. The higher critics throw ink at a Book that has withstood the assaults of materialists for centuries, and are vain enough to think that they can blot out its vital truths. Although their labours against the Bible have consumed years, they expect the public to accept their conclusions at sight. If they require so much time to formulate their indictment against Holy Writ, surely the friends of the Bible should be allowed as much time for the inspection of the indictment.
The destructive higher critic is, as a rule, opposed to revivals; in fact, it is one of the tests by which he can be distinguished from other preachers. He calls the revival a "religious spasm." He understands how one can have a spasm of anger and become a murderer, or a spasm of passion and ruin a life, or a spasm of dishonesty and rob a bank, but he cannot understand how one can be convicted of sin, and, in a spasm of repentance, be born again. That would be a miracle, and miracles are inconsistent with evolution. It shocks the higher critic to have the prodigal son come back so suddenly after going away so deliberately.
Most of the higher critics discard, because contrary to the doctrine of evolution, the virgin birth of Jesus and His resurrection, although the former is no more mysterious than our own birth--only different, and the latter no more mysterious than the origin of life. The existence of God makes both possible; and the proof is sufficient to establish both.
If the higher critic will but come into the presence of Christ and learn of Him he will express himself in the language of the father (whose son had a dumb spirit), who, as recorded in Mark (9:24), "cried out and said with tears, Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief."
If he would only mingle with humanity he might catch the spirit of the Master; if his sympathies were broad enough to take in all of God's people, he would be so impressed with the religious needs of sinful man that he would hasten to break to him the "Bread of Life" instead of offering him a stone. The Bible, _as it is_, has led millions to repentance and, through forgiveness, into life; the Bible, as the higher critics would make it, is impotent to save.
Enemies of the Bible have been "blasting at the Rock of Ages" for nearly two thousand years but in spite of attacks of open and secret foes, God still lives, and His Book is still precious to His children.
The Bible would be the greatest book ever written if it rested on its literary merits alone, stripped of the reverence that inspiration commands; but it becomes infinitely more valuable when it is accepted as the Word of God. As a man-made book it would compel the intellectual admiration of the world; as the audible voice of the Heavenly Father it makes an irresistible appeal to the heart and writes its truths upon our lives. Its heroes teach us great lessons--they were giants when they walked by faith, but weak as we ourselves when they relied upon their own strength.
The Bible starts with a simple story of creation--just a few words, but it says all that can be said. The scientists have framed hypotheses, the philosophers have formulated theories and the speculators have guessed--some of them have darkened "counsel by words without knowledge"--but when the smoke of controversy rises we find that the first sentence of Genesis, still unshaken, comprehends the entire subject: "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." No one has been able to overthrow it, or burrow under it or go around it.
And so when we set out in search of a foundation for statute law; we dig down through the loose dirt, the mould of centuries, until we strike solid rock and we find the Tables of Stone on which were written the ten commandments. All important legislation is but an elaboration of these few, brief sentences, and the elaborations are often obscuring instead of clarifying.
If we desire rules to govern our spiritual development we turn back to the Sermon on the Mount. In our educational system it takes many books on many subjects to prepare a mind for its work, but three chapters of the Bible (Matthew 5, 6 and 7) applied to life, would have more influence than all the learning of the schools in determining the happiness of the individual and his service to society.
If we want to understand the evils of arbitrary power, we have only to read Samuel's warning to the children of Israel when they clamoured for a king (1 Sam. 8: 11, 17).
If we would form an estimate of the influence that faith can exert on a human life, and, through it, upon a world, we follow the career of Abraham, "the friend of God," and see how his trust in Jehovah was rewarded. He founded a race, than which there has never been a greater, and established the religion through which to-day hundreds of millions worship God.
David showed us how a shepherd lad could become the "warrior king" and the "sweet singer of Israel," with virtues so big that, in spite of his enormous sins, he is described as "a man after God's own heart."
And what varied instruction we draw from the life of Moses! Hidden in the bulrushes on the banks of the Nile by a mother who, by instinct or by divine suggestion, previsioned a high calling for her son; found, under Providential direction, by a daughter of Pharaoh; reared in the environment of a palace and with the advantages of the most enlightened court of his day; compelled to flee into the wilderness because of an outburst of race passion; called to a great work by a Voice that spoke to him from a bush that "burned but was not consumed"; modestly distrusting his ability yet dauntless as the spokesman of God--dispenser of plagues--wonder-working man! Born of an obscure family and buried in the Land of Moab in a sepulcher which "no man knoweth," and yet between these two humble events he rose to a higher pinnacle than any uninspired man has ever reached--leader without comparison--lawgiver without a peer.
He teaches many lessons that, like all truths, can be applied in every generation in every land. Race sympathy made it possible for him to lead his people out of bondage--no one not of their own blood could have done it. This lesson needs to be heeded to-day. Our part in the evangelization of the world will be done through native teachers, educated here or in our missions, rather than directly. The reformer, too, finds in the hardening of Pharaoh's heart the final assurance of success; when the "fullness of time" has come and any form of bondage is ripe for overthrow, the taskmaster's demand for "bricks without straw" gives the final impulse and opens the way.
Joseph has made the world his schoolroom. He enables us to understand the words of Solomon; "where there is no vision the people perish." He shows how, in the hour of trial, faith can triumph over reason--how God can lead a righteous man through a dungeon to a seat by the side of the throne--how the dreamer can turn scoffing into reverence when he has the corn.
Samuel is a standing rebuke to those who think "wild oats" a necessary crop in the lives of young men. He heard the call of God when he was a child; was reared for the Father's work and lived a life so blameless that the people proclaimed him just when his official career came to an end.
In the Proverbs of Solomon we find a rare collection of truths, beautifully expressed; in Job we find an inexhaustible patience set to music and an integrity that even Satan himself could not corrupt.
The Prophets alone would immortalize the Bible--rugged characters who dared to rebuke wickedness in high places, to reproach a nation for its sins and to warn of the coming of the wrath of God. See Elijah on Mount Carmel, mocking the worshippers of Baal; hear him thunder the Almighty's sentence against a king who, coveting Naboth's vineyard, broke three commandments to get a little piece of land. And yet Elijah fled from wicked Jezebel and would have despaired but for the Voice that assured him of the thousands who were still true to Israel's God--the obscure hosts who remained loyal even when the conspicuous became faint-hearted.
Elisha was a visible link in the chain of power. He was not ashamed to wear the mantle of his great predecessor; he was willing to take up an unfinished work. He bears unimpeachable testimony to the continuity of the divine current when human conductors can be found to transmit it. It was Elisha who drew aside the veil that concealed from his affrighted servant the horses and chariots that, upon the mountain, await the hours when they are needed to supplement the strength of those who fight upon the Lord's side; it was Elisha, too, who proved to the warriors of his day that magnanimity is more potent than violence. He conquered by self-restraint--and "the bands of Syria came no more into the lands of Israel."
Daniel is another man in whom faith begat courage and for whom courage carved a large niche in the temple of imperishable fame. The Daniel who interpreted to the trembling Belshazzar the fateful handwriting on the wall; who, unawed by enemies, prayed with his windows open toward Jerusalem, and who, in the lions' den, waited in patience until Darius hastened from a sleepless couch to call him forth and join him in praising Israel's God--this Daniel was the same intrepid servant of the Most High, who in his youth refused to drink wine from the king's table, and, demanding a test, proved that water was better--a verdict that twenty-five centuries have not disturbed.
Passing over many characters who would seem mountainlike but for the majestic peaks that overshadow them, let us turn to the immortal seer who, listening heavenward, caught the words of the song that startled the shepherds at Bethelehem and, peering through the darkness of seven centuries, saw the light that shone from Calvary. It was Isaiah who foretold more clearly and more fully than any one else the coming of the Messiah, suggested the titles which He would earn, described the sufferings which He would endure and enumerated the blessings He would bring to mankind. In chapter nine verse six we read, "For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The Mighty God, The Everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace."
In chapter fifty-three, we learn of His vicarious atonement:
He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted
with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was
despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he hath borne our griefs,
and carried our sorrows; yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of
God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he
was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was
upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have
gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord
hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. He was oppressed, and he
was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb
to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he
opened not his mouth. He was taken from prison and from judgment:
and who shall declare his generation? for he was cut off out of
the land of the living: for the transgression of my people was he
stricken. And he made his grave with the wicked, and with the rich
in his death; because he had done no violence, neither was any
deceit in his mouth.
In chapter two, verse four, we are told of the glad day, which we are now trying to hasten, when swords shall be beaten into ploughshares, and spears into pruning-hooks--when nations shall not lift up the sword against nations or learn war any more.
If the Old Testament is so fascinating what may we expect of the New? It is day as compared with dawn; it is the morning light, with which Moses and the Prophets beat back the darkness of the night, enlarged--until we have the sun in its meridian glory. "Old things have passed away; behold, all things are become new."
The Old Testament gave us the law; the New Testament reveals the love upon which the law rests. John says: "The law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ" (John 1: 17). The Old Testament restrained by a multitude of "Thou shalt nots"; the New Testament awakens the monitor within and supplies a spiritual urge that makes the individual find satisfaction in service and delight in doing good. David soothes the dying with sweet assurance: "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me;" Jesus inspires them with a living hope: "I go to prepare a place for you that where I am ye may be also."
God is the center of gravity in the New Testament as in the Old, but the drawing power of Jehovah became visible in Christ; the attributes of the Father were revealed in the Son--the supreme intelligence, the limitless power, the boundless love. Divinity surrounded itself with human associates but spiritual enthusiasm crowded out the selfish element; His presence purged their souls of dross. The characters of the New Testament are about their Father's business all the time. If a Judas is base enough to betray the Saviour, even he is so overwhelmed with remorse that life becomes unbearable.
We are introduced to a new group of characters, beginning with a Virgin with a child and ending with her Son upon the cross--a galaxy of men and women whose words and deeds have travelled into every land. One poor widow with two mites, wisely invested, purchased more enduring fame than any rich man was ever able to buy with all his money. Another, Tabitha, by interpretation called Dorcas, drew forth as eloquent a tribute as was ever paid. In the goodness of her heart she made garments for the poor, and the recipients, exhibiting them at her death-bed, expressed their gratitude in tears. The narrative suggests an epitaph which every Christian can earn--and who could desire more? viz., the night is darker because a life has gone out; the world is not so warm because a heart is cold in death.
In John the Baptist, we have the forerunner--"the voice crying in the wilderness." The Apostles, chosen from among the busy multitude, carried their habits of industry into their new calling; some turned from catching fish to become "fishers of men," while Matthew employed the accuracy of a collector of customs in chronicling the life of the Master. Even the weaknesses of men were utilized: Thomas consecrated his doubts, and John, the disciple, baptized his ambition--each giving the Great Teacher an opportunity to use a fault for the enlightening of future generations. The latter became the most intimate companion of the Saviour--"the disciple whom Jesus loved" and the one who most frequently used the word love.
Peter and Paul stand out conspicuously among the exponents of early Christianity. In the case of Peter, Christ brought an impulsive nature into complete subjection and gave a steadying purpose to an emotional follower. In Paul, we see a giant intellect aflame with a holy zeal. Both were bold interpreters of Christ's mission and both urged upon Christians the full gospel equipment.
In his second Epistle, chapter one, Peter exhorts:
And besides this, giving all diligence, add to your faith virtue;
and to virtue knowledge; and to knowledge temperance; and to
temperance patience; and to patience godliness; and to godliness
brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness charity. For if these
things be in you, and abound, they make you that you shall neither
be barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.
In the sixth chapter of Ephesians, Paul pleads:
Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able
to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand
therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having
on the breastplate of righteousness; and your feet shod with the
preparation of the gospel of peace; above all, taking the shield of
faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of
the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the
Spirit, which is the Word of God: Praying always with all prayer
and supplication in the Spirit, and watching thereunto with all
perseverance and supplication for all saints.
Peter was a rock, hewn into shape and polished by the divine hand; Paul was a "chosen vessel" to bear the Redeemer's Name before "the Gentiles and kings and the children of Israel." Paul was an orator with a purpose; he was a man with a message. He was eloquent because he knew what he was talking about and meant what he said. No wonder, for he was called to service by a summons so distinct and unmistakable that he turned at once from persecuting to preaching. Paul is responsible for one of the most inspiring sentences in the Bible--"I was not disobedient unto the heavenly vision." It was the key to his whole life.
Love is not blind, declares Tolstoy; it sees what ought to be done and does it. So with Paul. His eyes were open to the truth and he saw it; he was sensitive to the needs of the Church and his epistles are filled with wise counsel. He encouraged the worthy, admonished the erring and strengthened the weak. Paul knew well the secret of liberality, as shown in 2 Corinthians 8: 5. The members of the Macedonian church "first gave their own selves"; giving was easy after that. Paul's religion could not be shaken; read his vow as recorded in the eighth chapter of Romans:
For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor
principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,
nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to
separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
His sufferings developed patience and deepened devotion. They prepared him to appreciate love and to define it as no other mortal has done.
His tribute to love, contained in the thirteenth chapter of 1 Corinthians, is not approached by any other utterance on this subject. (I use the old version with the word charity changed to love.)
Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not
love, I am become as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. And though
I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all
knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove
mountains, and have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all
my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned,
and have not love, it profiteth me nothing. Love suffereth long, and
is kind; love envieth not; love vaunteth not itself, is not puffed
up, Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not
easily provoked, thinketh no evil; Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but
rejoiceth in the truth; Beareth all things, believeth all things,
hopeth all things, endureth all things; Love never faileth: but
whether there be prophecies they shall fail; whether there be
tongues they shall cease; whether there be knowledge it shall vanish
away. For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But when that
which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done
away. When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a
child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away
childish things; For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then
face to face; now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also
I am known. And now abideth faith, hope, love, these three; but the
greatest of these is love.
I cannot leave the Book of Books without referring to one of the supreme moments that it describes. The Bible is full of pictures; the painter has found it an inexhaustible storehouse of suggestion. All the great climaxes of sacred history speak to us from the canvas. Moses and Pharaoh, Ruth and Naomi, Daniel at the Belshazzar Feast and in the Lions' Den, Elijah at Mt. Carmel and before Ahab, Joseph and his brethren, David and Goliath, Mary and the Child, Jesus, the Prodigal Son, the Sower, the Good Samaritan, the Rich Young Man, the Wise and the Foolish Virgins, Jesus in the Temple, Christ Entering Jerusalem, and in the Garden of Gethsemane, and The Saviour on the Cross--these are but a few of the word pictures that have inspired the artist's brush.
But there is another picture, unsurpassed in thrilling power and permanent interest, namely, that presented by the trial of Christ--tragedy of tragedies, triumph of triumphs!
Here, face to face, stood Pilate and Christ, the representatives of the two opposing forces that have ever contended for dominion in the world. Pilate was the personification of force; behind him was the Roman government, undisputed ruler of the then known world, supported by its invincible legions. Before Pilate stood Christ, the embodiment of love--unarmed, alone. And force triumphed; they nailed Him to the cross, and the mob that had assembled to witness His sufferings, mocked and jeered and said: "He is dead." But from that day the power of Caesar waned and the power of Christ increased. In a few centuries the Roman government was gone and its legions forgotten, while the Apostle of Love has become the greatest fact in history and the growing figure of all time.
Who will estimate the Bible's value to society? It is our only guide. It contains milk for the young and nourishing food for every year of life's journey; it is manna for those who travel in the wilderness; and it provides a staff for those who are weary with age. It satisfies the heart's longings for a knowledge of God; it gives a meaning to existence and supplies a working plan to each human being.
It holds up before us ideals that are within sight of the weakest and the lowliest, and yet so high that the best and the noblest are kept with their faces turned ever upward. It carries the call of the Saviour to the remotest corners of the earth; on its pages are written the assurances of the present and our hopes for the future.
There are three verses in the first chapter of Genesis which mean
more to man than all other books outside the Bible. First; the
verse, "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth,"
gives us the only account of the beginning of all things, including
life. Many substitutes have been proposed for this verse but none
that can be so easily understood, explained and defended.
Second: the 24th verse gives us the only law governing the
continuity of life on earth. If life is to continue, reproduction
must be according to law or lawless. _Reproduction according to
kind_ is the basic scientific fact in the world; all the books on
science combined do not state as much that is of value to man as
this one verse--it is the foundation of family life and of all human
calculations. No living thing has ever violated this law; even man
with all his power has never been able to persuade or compel that
intangible, invisible thing that we call life to cross the line of
species.
Third: the 26th verse--"Let us make man in our image"--gives us the
only explanation of man's presence on earth. Without revelation no
one has been able to explain the riddle of life. Man comes into the
world without his own volition; he has no choice as to the age,
nation, race, or family environment into which he shall be born. So
far as he is concerned, he comes by chance; he goes he knows not
when, and cannot insure himself for a single hour against accident,
disease or death; and yet, he is supreme above all other things.
The 26th verse reveals a truth of inestimable value. When man
knows that he is "the child of a King," with the earth for an
inheritance--that the Creator, after bringing all other things into
existence, made him, not as other things were made, but in the
image of God, and placed him here as commander-in-chief of all that
is--when he understands that he is part of God's plan and here for a
purpose he finds himself. To do God's will becomes his highest duty
as well as his greatest pleasure and he learns that obedience links
happiness to virtue, success to righteousness, and makes it possible
for him to rise to the high plane that a loving Heavenly Father has
put within the reach of man.
Where in all the books in all the libraries can one find as much
that affects the welfare of man as is condensed into these three
verses?
III
WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST?
The question, What think ye of Christ? propounded to the Pharisees by the Saviour Himself, demands an answer from an increasing number as each year the circle of the Gospel's influence widens. It is a question that cannot be evaded. In every civilized land an answer is made, by word or act, by each individual who is confronted by the facts of His life. It is in the hope that I may be able to assist some in answering this question that I devote this hour to the inquiry.
Was Christ an impostor? Or was He deluded? Or was He the promised Messiah, "the Way, the Truth, and the Life," as He declared Himself to be?
Few have dared to accuse Him of attempting a deliberate fraud upon the public. Impostors sometimes kill others in carrying out their plans, or to escape detection, but they do not offer themselves as a sacrifice for others. Christ's whole life gives the lie to the charge that He practiced deception. One recorded act would be sufficient to establish His honesty of purpose. In the nineteenth chapter of Matthew we read:
And, behold, one came and said unto him, Good Master, what good
thing shall I do, that I may have eternal life? And he said unto
him, Why callest thou me good? there is none good but one, that is,
God; but if thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments. He
saith unto him, which? Jesus said, Thou shalt do no murder, Thou
shalt not commit adultery, Thou shalt not steal, Thou shalt not bear
false witness. Honour thy father and thy mother: and Thou shalt love
thy neighbour as thyself. The young man saith unto him, All these
things have I kept from my youth up: what lack I yet? Jesus said
unto him. If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and
give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come
and follow me. But when the young man heard that saying, he went
away sorrowful: for he had great possessions.
If Christ had been an adventurer or was interested only in gaining a following He would have welcomed this young man, who was not only rich, but, according to Luke, a ruler. And what a splendid recommendation the young man gave himself; all of the commandments he had kept from his youth up. How could one ambitious for worldly success afford to reject such an applicant? But Christ would not lower the standard a hair's breadth even to secure the support of a rich young ruler who had led a blameless life. He demanded the _first place_ in the heart--a very reasonable demand--and, seeing in the young man's heart the first place occupied by love of money, He demanded the throne. The young man, unwilling to purchase eternal life at that price, went away sorrowing--his heart still centered on his great possessions. Of whom but an honest person could such a story be told?
Was Christ deceived? That is the theory set forth in a little volume entitled "A Jewish View of Jesus" (published recently by the Macmillan Company). The author, H.G. Emelow, pays the following high tribute to "Jesus the Jew" (and it is the most charitable view an orthodox Jew can hold):
"Yet, these things apart, who can compute all that Jesus has meant
to humanity? The love He has inspired, the solace He has given, the
good He has engendered, the hope and joy He has kindled--all that is
unequalled in human history. Among the great and good that the human
race has produced, none has even approached Jesus in universality
of appeal and sway. He has become the most fascinating figure in
history. In Him is combined what is best and most enchanting and
most mysterious in Israel--the eternal people whose child He was.
The Jew cannot help glorying in what Jesus thus has meant to the
world; nor can he help hoping that Jesus may yet serve as a bond of
union between Jew and Christian, once His teaching is better known
and the bane of misunderstanding is at last removed from His words
and His ideal."
But could honest delusion produce a character who, in "the love He has inspired," "the solace He has given," and "the hope and joy He has kindled" is "unequalled in human history"? Is it not impossible that under a _delusion_ one could (as Emelow says Jesus did) become "the most fascinating figure in history"--unapproachable in the "universality of appeal and sway"? The world has been full of delusions: have any of them produced a character like Christ? Tolstoy says that the words of Christ to His friends and pupils have had a hundred thousand times more influence over the people than all the poems, odes, elegies and elegant epistles of the authors of that age. Lecky, the historian, says that "the three short years of the active life of Jesus have done more to regenerate and soften mankind than all of the disquisitions of philosophers and all the exhortations of moralists." Could this be said of a man labouring under a delusion as to his real character?
What Christ _said_ and _did_ and _was_ establishes His claims. In a conversation with Peter (Matt. 16: 16), He approved that Apostle's answer which ascribed to Him the title of "Christ" (the Greek equivalent for Messiah) "the Son of the living God." He not only approved of the answer bestowing the title but
"Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-Jona: for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in heaven." In John 10, verse 30, He declares, "I and my Father are one"; in verse 36, same chapter, He denies that it was blasphemy to call Himself the Son of God. In the presence of death He refused to deny the claim (Matt. 26: 63-64).
The deity of Christ is proven in many ways; some offering one line of proof and some another. Some are convinced by the prophecies that found their fulfillment in Christ; some give greatest weight to the manner of His birth and His resurrection. Still others lay special emphasis upon the miracles performed by Him. There is no need of comparison; all the proofs stand together and bear joint testimony to His supernatural character, but I find myself inclined to use the method of reasoning adopted by Carnegie Simpson in his book entitled, "The Fact of Christ." Those who reject Christ reject also the miraculous proofs offered in support of His divine character, but the _fact_ of Christ cannot be denied. Christ lived; that is admitted. He taught; we have His words. He died upon the cross; that we know; and we can trace His blood by its cleansing power as it flows through the centuries. Judged by His life, His teachings, and His death, and the impression they have made upon the human race, we conclude that He was divine and that He has justified the titles bestowed upon Him. No other explanations can account for Him. Born in a manger; reared in a carpenter shop; with no access to sages living and no knowledge of the wisdom of sages dead, except as that wisdom was recorded in the Old Testament, and yet when only about thirty years of age He gave to the world a code of morality the like of which the world had never known before and has not known since. He preached a short time, gathered around Him a few disciples and was crucified; His followers were scattered and nearly all of the conspicuous ones put to death--and yet from this beginning His religion spread until thousands of millions have taken His name upon them and millions have been ready to die rather than surrender the faith that He put into their hearts. How can you explain Christ? It is easier to believe Him to be the Christ whose coming was foretold, the Jesus who was to save the people from their sins--the Son of God and Saviour of the World--than to account for Him in any other way.
To those who try to measure Him by the rules that apply to man He is incomprehensible; but take Him out of the man class and put Him in the God class and you can understand Him. He also can be measured by the work He came to perform; it was more than a man's task. No man aspiring to be a God could have done what He did; it required a God condescending to be a man.
When once His divine character is admitted we have an explanation that clears away all the perplexities. We can believe that He was conceived of the Holy Ghost and born of the Virgin Mary. We can believe that He opened the eyes of the blind when among men--we see Him to-day giving a spiritual vision of life to those who have known only the flesh and the pleasures that come through the flesh. We can believe that He wrought miracles when upon earth--we see Him so changing hearts to-day that they love the things they used to hate and hate the things they used to love. We can even believe that at His touch life was called back to the body from which it had taken its flight--we have seen Him take men who had fallen so low that their own flesh and blood had deserted them, lift them up, wash them and fill their hearts with a passion for service. A Christ who can do that _now_ could have broken the bonds of the tomb.
Volumes innumerable have been written on theological distinctions, some of which have been made the basis of sects. The doctrine of the Trinity has been one of the storm centers of discussion for centuries. It is not difficult for me to believe in the Trinity when I see three distinct entities in each human being--a physical man, a mental man and a moral man. They are so inseparable that one cannot exist here without the other, and yet they are so separate and distinct that one can be developed and the others left undeveloped. Who has not seen a splendidly developed body with an ignorant brain to think for it and a puny spiritual life within? A weak body and an impoverished soul are sometimes linked to a highly trained mind: and an exalted character is sometimes found in a frail body, and even associated with a neglected intellect. The Father, Son and Holy Ghost, three in one, present no problem that need perplex either the learned or the unlearned. We have the evidence of the Father on every hand; the proof of the Son's growing influence is indisputable; the witness of the Holy Ghost is to be found in the heart of every believer. The three act in unison.
The fall of man is disputed by some who seem to find more satisfaction in the belief that they have risen from the brute and, therefore, are superior to their ancestors, than they do in the thought that man has fallen from a higher estate. But the facts do not support the brute theory. Even if the "missing links" could be found, it would be as reasonable--though not so flattering to man's pride--to believe that the monkey is a degenerate man as that man is an improved monkey.
It has often been pointed out as evidence of man's fall that he is the only created thing that does not live up to his possibilities. In plant and bird and beast there is no disobedience--all fulfill the purpose of their creation, from the flower, that puts forth its bloom as perfectly when it "wastes its sweetness on the desert air" as when in the garden its beauty calls forth expressions of delight, to the bird that wakes the echoes of trackless forests with its melody. Man, only man, mocks his Maker by prostituting to evil the powers that might lift him within sight of the throne of God.
If so many men and women fall _now_, in spite of light and love and all the incentives to noble living, is it incredible that the first pair should have fallen when the race was young? Possibility becomes probability when we remember that the conflict that rages between the mind and the heart is the one real conflict in every life. Reason versus faith is the great issue to-day as in Eden. Faith says obey; reason asks, Why? The one looks up confidingly to a Power above; the other relies on self and rejects even the authority of Jehovah unless the finite mind can comprehend the plan of the Infinite.
No one will doubt the doctrine of original sin if he will study nature and then analyze himself. In the plant, in the animal and in the physical man, the invisible thing which we call life is the only sustaining force; when it takes its flight, that which remains falls back to the earth and becomes dust. And so the spiritual in man is the only force that can give him a moral nature and preserve it from decay; when his spiritual life departs the mind as well as the body rots.
Some find a stumbling block in the doctrine of the Atonement. That one should suffer for others, shocks their sense of justice, they say, and yet that is the law of life. Each generation borrows from generations past and pays the debt to the generations that follow. A certain percentage of the mothers die in childbirth--evidence that they are God's handiwork is found in the fact they so willingly enter the valley of the shadow of death to attain to motherhood. Many a boy has been won back to rectitude by the sorrows of a parent; we are not infrequently healed by the stripes that fall on others. In fact, great wrongs are seldom righted without the shedding of innocent blood--one dies and a multitude are saved. These do not always illustrate the voluntary laying down of life but there are enough cases of noble surrender of self for a friend or for the public to make it easy for any one to understand how Christ could take upon Himself the sins of the world and become man's intercessor with the Father. Winning hearts through love expressed in sacrifice, is that strange? On the contrary, it is the only way. It is because the story of Jesus is a natural one that it has touched mankind. Hearts understand each other. The heart, says Pascal, has reasons that the mind does not understand because the heart is of an infinitely higher character.
The sacrificial character of Christ's death and the atoning power of His blood are the basis of the New Testament. To discard this doctrine is to reject the plainest teachings of the Apostles and the words of Christ Himself.
Peter, than whom there is no higher human authority, says (1 Peter 2:24): "Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree, that we, being dead to sins, should live unto righteousness; by whose stripes ye were healed."
John, the Beloved, speaks as clearly on this subject (John 3:16-17): "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him, should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved." Paul was equally emphatic; he says (1 Cor. 2:2): "For I determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ and him crucified." And again (1 Cor. 1:30): "But of him are ye in Christ Jesus who of God is made unto us wisdom and righteousness, and sanctification and redemption."
But we have higher authority still--we have the words of Christ Himself. At the last supper, with His disciples about Him, He spoke of His blood being "shed for many for the remission of sins."
It is the story of His sacrifice for others--of His blood shed that the world might through Him find forgiveness--that has been understood by the unlettered as well as by scholars and has brought millions to the foot of the cross. Even those who have not been in position to compare His code of morals with the teachings of others have been able to comprehend a plan of salvation by which one died for all and all find forgiveness in His sacrifice. It is this Gospel that has made it possible for the forgiven sinner to go forth to begin a new life, no longer under conviction of sin and remembering his past only as an incentive to service.
The presence of Judas at the Last Supper has been the cause of much speculation throughout the centuries. The indignation of Christians is stirred at the thought of a traitor being present on this solemn occasion when Christ instituted one of the great sacraments of the Church. The Saviour not only knew what Judas was about to do but called attention to it and designated the guilty one, but there was no appearance of the anger which would be natural in a mortal; He knew the plan of salvation.
But why should the betrayal have come from one of the twelve? It is not necessary to find a satisfactory answer to all the questions that may arise from the reading of the Bible, and the finite mind should not be discouraged if it fails to fathom the reasons of the Infinite Intelligence. If there are mysteries in the Bible that we cannot unravel they are not greater than the mysteries in nature with which we must deal whether we understand them or not.
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In His ImageChapter II: Part 2
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