Chapter XII: Christian Ethics (2)
To have moral worth, an action must be the outcome of an entire bent, or disposition of the agent. Good fruit is to be expected only from a good tree[529]. In the virtuous act the agent's personality is engaged _as a whole_; his whole nature is directed towards a single object. This inward unity is perhaps what we really mean by 'simplicity.' In such action, the human being most nearly approaches the concentrated and harmonious energy of the Divine Life[530]. The person acts as an undivided whole, each part of his nature is for the time directed aright.
But we are here reminded that man's nature is disordered: it can produce nothing truly good, except in so far as it is restored to harmony by Divine power. God, says Thomas Aquinas, calls us to a supernatural end, which by his natural powers man could not attain. God Himself must therefore impart the supernatural principle necessary to aid man in responding to the call[531]. No act, in short, can be strictly called 'good' which is dissociated from the direct action of God: for 'there is none good but One, that is God:'
O work thy works in God; He can rejoice in nought
Save only in Himself, and what Himself has wrought[532].
We conclude that in a good action there is a true harmony of the different elements in personality--intelligence, affection, will; and further that such harmony presupposes the action of supernatural power on man's nature. It agrees with this that Christian moralists give to the chief principles of virtuous action the name of 'theological virtues,' and regard them as supernaturally imparted.
A good action, then, implies right _intelligence_. There must be an exercise of faith, which is a principle of knowledge--a correspondence between human faculties and an unseen object. Faith accepts the good as the proper element of man's perfection; takes God at His word, and aims at pleasing Him. 'Without faith it is impossible to please Him[533].' Next, _will_ asserts itself. Will is directed towards an end desirable and attainable by effort: and thus is inspired by Hope. A study of Christ's example suggests that the highest object of hope for man is the perfection of his nature through the means appointed by God[534]. We see in Christ something of the desire, and the joy of moral achievement. When He said that 'the _workman_ is worthy of his reward,' He pointed to the possibility of a true, unselfish pleasure in good work as such: of that thirst for perfection and self-dissatisfaction which distinguishes the true artist from common men.
Lastly, there remains that which is the dominant factor in Christian goodness. Love. There is an element of _passion_ in Christlike holiness, which differentiates it from philosophic conceptions of virtue as a tranquil, balanced state[535]. Love gives worth to the fulfilment of duty; embraces, in union with God, the Divine aim of creation; and manifests itself in spontaneity and inventive activity, transforming the fulfilment of obligation into an occasion of joyous and delightful service. Our Lord represents this 'ardent, passionate, devoted state' of heart as the real root of virtue. Without it the most punctilious obedience is nothing; for not to love is not to live[536].
Having thus indicated the place of intelligence, will, and affection in virtuous activity, we are free to study the Christian character, and perhaps ascertain its permanent features--those elements in it which have survived the test of such wide variety of historical conditions. We have to inquire what is common to the types of Christian life which different ages, states of civilization, and forms of nationality have produced? For character is that which is capable of development in varied situations, of free and spontaneous self-adaptation to every change of environment. Circumstance proves its quality, offers it a field of exercise, and ministers to its growth.
Our task is rather to sketch a _character_ than to classify _virtues_. 'The earliest Christians,' says the writer of _Ecce Homo_, 'felt a natural repugnance to describe the goodness at which they aimed by the name of Virtue.' Within limits indeed such a classification is possible: and a principle of division may be applied even to a thing so mysterious, so subtle in its shapes and gradations, so fruitful in surprises, as character. We may, for instance, take as a basis the principle of personality, and consider the Christian personality in its threefold relationship: to God, to itself, to its neighbour, and in contact with the hindrances, moral and physical, presented by its environment[537].
I. The Christian personality in relation to God.
The distinctive feature of Christian character consists in consciousness of that filial relation to God which Grace restores; of the spiritual bond that exists between the human soul and 'Him who is invisible.' Hence the goodness at which the Christian aims is that which will bear the searching light of the Divine eye. 'He chose us out of the world,' says S. Paul, 'that we might be holy and blameless _before Him_.' Thus in its essence Christian character is based on a peculiar sense of relationship to God; there underlies it a constant desire of union with God, a temper of loyalty, a spirit of thankful dependence, a feeling of nearness to the Divine presence. Were it true, as has been said, that 'the Divine service' had '_become_ human service[538],' Christian character as a distinct type would have ceased to be.
From this attitude of mind and will two results follow: first, singleness of aim,--the 'single eye.' The sense of personal relation to God gives directness, truthfulness, simplicity to speech, action, and thought. So far as he is true to his profession a Christian is independent of the current opinions of his age, or community, seeking only to live 'in all good conscience' towards God. The conviction of an unseen Presence guides his actions; an unseen Witness penetrates his thought; an unseen Master holds him accountable. Indeed, S. Paul seems to regard holy living as consisting simply in the endeavour to 'please God[539].'
And a second characteristic of the Christian is his view of life in the world, of nature, of humanity itself. He observes, judges, estimates all things from the standpoint of the spiritual mind. He aims at bringing his own thoughts and desires into harmony with the Divine will and purpose. He looks out on the world, with its complex social order, its fascinating interest, its appealing needs, as a sphere in which for a while he is called to move, and to labour. Into the varied tasks and interests of life he can throw himself with large-hearted sympathy, and with the greater fervour because the time is short, and the need of self-forgetful activity urgent. 'Once a real Christian,' writes Lacordaire, 'the world did not vanish before my eyes; it rather assumed nobler proportions as I myself did. I began to see therein a noble sufferer needing help. I could imagine nothing comparable to the happiness of ministering to it under the eye of God, with the help of the Cross, and the Gospel of Christ[540].'
But the world is not the Christian's 'abiding city.' He walks in it, and passes through it in pilgrim fashion, with heart detached from it and all that it can give. He cannot commit himself to the world, nor identify himself with it. He has the internal freedom of a heart that has found its true centre; he is able to estimate visible things at their real worth, and
To stand in freedom loosened from this world[541].
Thus to have the 'mind of Christ' is to judge of life and the things of time with His judgment, to see with His eyes, to be inspired by His _Wisdom_. So we find ourselves in natural contact with the division of character by 'cardinal virtues.' 'Prudence' or 'Wisdom' is the outcome of a right relation to God. God only, S. Augustine says, is to be loved; this world, and all sensible things, are to be used. Prudence is love discerning between the things which bring it nearer to God, and those which hinder it from approaching Him[542].
II. In relation to humanity, and creaturely life in general, the Christian finds scope for 'active morality[543],' for ministering love. The life of union with God inspires and prompts the life of service to mankind. The infinitely varied relationships of life constitute so many forms of moral obligation. Christian _Justice_ means nothing less than rendering to _all_ their due. The desire to imitate God is at once the motive and the rule of Christian activity[544]. And this desire finds expression in two distinctively Christian graces: the spirit of _forgiveness_ and the spirit of _compassion_.
The inculcation of forgiveness is 'the most striking innovation' in the ethics of the Gospel[545]. Greek thought on the subject presents a remarkable contrast. Aristotle is inclined to regard forgiveness as a form of weakness, but allied to virtue in so far as it involves resistance to passion. The ground of Christian forgiveness is very different. The duty of it follows partly of course from a consideration of the common human nature which the offender shares with the injured; partly also from a dispassionate view of the injury inflicted. In exercising forgiveness we suppress that false self-love or partiality which magnifies a private injury. The Christian loves himself _not more_ than he loves his neighbour. He can put himself in the offender's place, and consider what is for his highest good. He will not allow the sense of injury to interfere with, or override the exercise of good-will even towards enemies. Certainly, the sense of his own moral frailty, and of his indebtedness to Divine mercy, will restrain the Christian from vindictiveness or harshness in regard to the faults of others; while the fact of the equality of men in relation to their common Father, invests even the anti-social sinner with the dignity of brotherhood[546]. But forgiving love is no mere expression of self-distrust. It is fired by something of the generous hopefulness, the quickness to detect latent capacities of nobleness even in the worst, which is the glory of the Divine forgiveness. It 'rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth with the truth;' 'believeth all things, hopeth all things.' The Greek indeed had his idea of forbearance; to him it meant something less than strict justice; it was a virtue difficult to place or estimate. Logically, it was scarcely to be praised. At the best it would never have implied the habitual duty of active forgiveness.
Not less distinctive of the Christian character is _compassion_[547], and the active beneficence which results from it. Humanity, by Jesus Christ, was transformed: it was 'changed (to adopt a celebrated phrase) from a restraint to a motive.' Compassion may display itself in readiness both to relieve the physical needs of another, and to edify his character. To love one's fellow-man as one's self implies willingness to benefit him in body and estate by every means; but it is also incompatible with unconcern or apathy as to his spiritual and moral welfare. Love is communicative, and will not withhold its best treasure. Hence compassion prompts missionary activity, and zeal for moral and social reforms. Nor has 'humanity' ceased to be a restraint by becoming a motive. Christian justice contains the principle of '_innocentia_' as well as of '_benevolentia_.' 'Love worketh no ill to his neighbour;' it can inflict no wrong, it can withhold no good; 'therefore love is the fulfilling of the Law[548].'
Active morality has many departments. Duty to the 'powers that be'--the order of society, human law, the state, the Church: all this, into which the science of politics inquires, forms part of the obligation involved in love to man. How comprehensive is the reply of an early Apologist to the charge of disloyalty, 'we behave towards Emperors exactly as we do towards our neighbours. To wish, or to do, or to think evil is equally forbidden to us in any case[549].' 'Thou,' cries S. Augustine, apostrophizing the Church,--'Thou bringest within the bond of mutual love every relationship of kindred, every alliance of affinity; Thou unitest citizen to citizen, nation to nation, man to man, not only in society, but in fraternity. Thou teachest kings to seek the welfare of their peoples, and peoples to be subject to kings.... Thou shewest how to all love is due, and injury to none[550]!'
III. In the life of active beneficence, self-sacrifice is no 'occasional heroism,' but an 'habitual mood[551].' And yet from the very nature of Christian love it follows that there is a right self-regard, a zeal for God's kingdom in the soul, a desire for the highest welfare of the personality as an object of worth in itself, and destined to find its perfection in God.
Love to self becomes _Temperance_, that is, the spirit of purifying discipline. Thus, a mark of Christian character is the passion for holiness: i.e. the desire to combine inward purity of thought, desire, and motive, with the external fulfilment of duty.
This process of self-purification is both mental and moral. It includes the culture of imagination not less than the control of appetite; 'sobriety' not less in judgment and reflection than in the indulgence of desire; humility in self-estimate, not less than restraint of passion[552]. The dominant feature of Christian character in this connection is a peculiar self-severity, a deep sense of the ideal as something not yet attained, a strict fidelity to known truth and the claim of moral law, sensitiveness to moral evil, and watchfulness against even its distant approach; in a word, disciplined rule in the affections, intellect, and will. For as the Hellenist sage says of Wisdom, 'The very true beginning of Her is the desire of discipline, and the beginning of discipline is love[553].' Temperance includes that reverent care of the body which receives so high a sanction in the New Testament; indeed, respect for the sanctity of the body may be viewed as reverence for the presence of God Himself, and for the place of His abode[554].
IV. Finally, in relation to the hindrances which Virtue encounters--the stress of circumstance, the pressure of misfortune, persecution, loss, temptation, and the like--Love displays itself as _Fortitude_, and finds both a passive and active sphere of exercise.
As a passive virtue fortitude is the 'world-resisting' element in character. The hostility of the world to virtue is only one form of its hostility to God[555]. Fortitude is thus essentially the same in all stages of social development. When the world-principle was embodied in a concrete form, and became in the imperial power of Borne a definite force hostile to the Church[556], fortitude displayed itself for the most part as patience under persecution (S. Augustine in his treatment of this virtue naturally contemplates it under this aspect); but the precise form of influence to be resisted will obviously vary from age to age, while the element of _resistance_ in Christian character remains constant.
The name of 'fortitude,' however, must not be restricted to passive endurance, prominent as this virtue is in Christ's teaching. Fortitude embraces spheres of action, and will display itself on occasion as _resentment_. Righteous anger has its source in the temper exactly opposed to Stoic apathy respecting sin--that 'loveless view' of mankind which said 'Trouble not thyself; thy neighbour sins, but he sins for himself[557].' There can be no true love of good without a just abhorrence of evil. Hence it sometimes occurs that love takes the form of indignation and holy zeal--when directed, for example, against oppression, cruelty, ingratitude, deceit, selfishness. Such resentment is a natural and generous emotion, born of sympathy with God Himself. Comparing with the Christian conception of resentment Aristotle's discussion of anger, we find that Christian teachers lay stress on the _social end_ of resentment. What the good Christian resents is not a personal hurt, but injury and wrong-doing viewed as injurious to his neighbour or the community; such resentment is distinguished by purity of motive; in certain circumstances it is not unwilling to inflict pain.
_Moral courage_, again, is the form which fortitude assumes under other circumstances, too numerous to be specified. Generally it is displayed on occasions when the Christian is bearing witness to the cause of truth or righteousness before men. No Christian can rid himself of his share in the function of _witness_, committed to His followers by Christ. And fortitude, or manliness, is the virtue of a witness--of the solitary champion of a good cause confronting opposition in any of its forms. The name 'athlete,' which we find applied to martyrs in early times, may remind us that the task which beyond others must needs test a man's power to endure, and to stand alone, is that of witnessing stedfastly for righteousness and truth. Yet the call to bear witness comes in ways unexpected, and difficult to define or classify: it may, for example, be a man's difficult duty to withstand not opponents, but adherents and friends; to hold his own not against 'the sneers and opposition of the bad, but the opinion and authority of the good[558].' With this passing remark we quit the subject.
In the above sketch of Christian character we have confined ourselves to some salient features. We have said nothing of the gracious union it presents of delicacy with strength, of communicativeness with reserve, of energy with restfulness, of passion with tenderness. It is difficult to delineate character without giving a look of formality to what is essentially a mysterious, albeit well-marked, product. In Christian goodness we see the handiwork of the Spirit of God, and where He is, there is liberty.
It is indeed objected that this type of character is too rare, too exalted for the majority of mankind. It is said that a standard of perfection is set before them which it is hopeless to think of attaining; that men are disheartened; that Christian teachers 'ask for the impossible,' and undermine belief in the possibility of virtue. It is further suggested that the rarity of the type proves that the saint 'is born, not made;' and that radical change of character and disposition is impossible[559].
The last point may be noticed in another connection. At present we may suggest, in reply to these reflections, one consideration. The objector forgets that Christianity does not merely present a moral standard to men; it provides them with an entire system of moral education. The Church recognises different degrees of maturity and attainment in her children. It is no part of her method, though possibly an accident of a particular age or set of conditions, that she sets strong meat before babes, and appeals to children as if they were grown men. That very 'individual treatment' of characters on which the writer of the _Service of Man_ insists, is a fundamental principle of the Christian system[560].
IV. _Christ the Source of the Recreation of Character._
The subject which we now approach is, taken as a whole, peculiar to Christian Ethics. For it will be admitted that Christianity alone offers a solution of the practical problem, how is the ideal of virtue to be translated into life and practice? 'It is the essential weakness,' says a living writer, 'of all mere systems of morality, and of most, if not all, other religions, that they confine themselves to pointing out what the facts of life ought to be, and make no provision whatever for dealing with facts as they are.... It is their main defect, not that they conflict with Christianity, but that they fail to touch the problem with which it most directly deals[561].' Of course, in advancing this claim for Christianity, we imply that it is something vastly greater than a system of morals. It is a Divine way of salvation, that is, of deliverance from sin, as well as from its effects; the process by which the ideal becomes actual in life and character is also, as we have seen, a process of restoration. Christianity, in fact, professes to be a Divinely-provided remedy for disorder and disease; strictly speaking, therefore, a treatise on ethics must investigate the pathology of sin, regarded as the violation of moral order, and the fatal misdirection of desire. This aspect of the Gospel has been too much disregarded, even by Christian thinkers[562]. It follows, however, from the Scriptural account of man that he has lost something which can only be supernaturally restored: and it is the practical task of ethics to point out the means of renewal, which Divine Wisdom has provided.
The mysterious facts which lie at the root of the recreative process must be briefly noticed. Christian holiness is the reproduction in the individual of the life of the Incarnate Son of God. That this might be possible, there took place that series of events which S. John describes as the glorification of Jesus Christ. The life, perfectly well-pleasing to God, and therefore the supreme standard of holiness, passes through the stage of death. The Sacrifice on Calvary removes the barrier raised between the Creator and His creatures by sin. The Resurrection is, on the one hand, the seal of God's acceptance stamped upon His Son's atoning work; on the other, marks the final stage in that process by which Christ's human nature is 'perfected[563].' For by the Resurrection that Nature is spiritualized, is released from earthly limitations, and becomes available as a recreative force. The Ascension is the condition of Christ's manifestation as 'a quickening Spirit,' as the 'power of God.' By sacramental channels He communicates to our entire nature His life-giving humanity, as the means of our recreation after the image of God. Thus the life of the Incarnate is extended in the life of the redeemed, and by a natural and orderly growth, the character of Christ is reproduced in His members through the continuous operation of the Spirit, whose office it is to 'take of the things of Christ and shew them unto' men. He who is outwardly our example thus becomes an inward principle of life.
We now are in a position to estimate the extent to which Christian morality depends on dogmatic truths. Apart from Jesus Christ there can be no true life. The secret of holiness lies in _a permanent relation to a living Christ_. He, by His life and death, 'became unto us Wisdom, Righteousness, Sanctification, Redemption[564].' The example was not upheld in vain; for Christ placed within our reach the spiritual forces by which alone the pattern can be reproduced in human life. 'Sanctification' means the progressive appropriation by man of the life of the Son of God; the formation in him, by successive stages, of the very image of Christ. The objective aspect of Sanctification is clearly presented in the Old Testament; holiness there implies consecration, and is thought of chiefly as an objective work of God. In the New Testament, the idea of holiness passes from the sphere of worship to that of morality. But the Old Testament conception is not lost; it is expanded. Holiness, according to the Christian view, results not from the efforts of man, but from the outflow and operation of a Divine Life. Holiness is spoken of as 'the righteousness of God,' as a 'free gift' imparted to man; and in the first instance requires receptivity rather than activity on the part of the human soul.
The ethical significance of baptism is thus intelligible. By baptism the individual is brought into vital contact with the Source of the new life, and enters the sphere within which radiate the spiritual forces that flow from the glorified humanity of Christ; the germ of _a new personality_ is imparted; the kingdom of God is entered. But in this new birth the work is only begun; for the 'Grace of God that bringeth salvation' has an abiding home among men. It is misleading to speak of Grace as 'an unknown factor.' Still more so to assert that 'Theology has always been celebrating the power of Grace to the depreciation of Ethics[565].' Grace has its fixed channels and methods, its orderly movement and outflow, its certain conditions, its appointed places and seasons, its definite, though mysterious, laws of operation[566]. Grace is, so to speak, stored and dispensed within the mediatorial kingdom which Christ founded in His Church. From an ethical standpoint the Church of God is before all else _a school of character_[567], the Divinely-appointed sphere in which, normally, the recreation of personality proceeds, in which men are sanctified by being kept in living union and contact with Jesus Christ Himself.
To enumerate the several 'means of grace' committed to the stewardship of the Church is the task of theology, as also to explain the conditions of fruitfully using them. On one point only it may be worth while to make a few remarks.
To Christianity, as we have seen, each individual personality is an end in itself. Each has a right to moral education; each was called into being that it might embody a particular thought of God, that it might fulfil good works prepared specially for _it_, and correspond with its own separate ideal[568]. Hence, true to the spirit of Him who was a Physician of the sick, Christianity offers her Divine remedies to the worst and most hardened natures. She believes in her power to renew and transfigure them, to achieve in them a moral miracle. Nobler natures, again, she endeavours to train up to the full stature of Christ-like character, sanctifying, consecrating, and elevating the innate capacities of each. Her healing mission extends to all men. She knows nothing of the aristocratic temper of ancient ethics, which would confine the very possibility of a moral life to the few. She rejoices in the infinite variety of typical forms which character may assume. A Christian poet has said--
There is not on the earth a soul so base
But may obtain a place,
In covenanted grace;
So that his feeble prayer of faith obtains
Some loosening of his chains
And earnests of the great release, which rise
From gift to gift, and reach at length the eternal prize.
All may save self;--but minds that heavenward tower
Aim at a wider power,
Gifts on the world to shower.
And this is not at once; by fastings gained
And trials well sustained;
By pureness, righteous deeds, and toils of love,
Abidance in the truth, and zeal for God above[569].
Now this idea of individual perfection, so characteristic of Christianity, is in the New Testament not dissociated from the idea of a society, family, or household of God, in which alone the _full_ development of Christian character can be achieved. Corporate life, with its network of relationships, its mutual services, its common worship, its visible pledges of brotherhood--this is God's great instrument in the edification of character. So far, indeed, as the body is divided or weakened, the pressure it exerts on the individual is hindered, and the free play of its forces diminished[570].
In the Church, then, we have the true school of character, the true 'home of individuality,' and sphere of spiritual edification. The normal course of spiritual growth is one of widely varied experiences: it passes through the stage of repentance with its appropriate works; it is schooled by the chastening discipline of common life[571]; it is marked by progressive power of submission to the leadings of grace. This would suggest an interesting line of study, and one suitable for ethical treatment, but must not now detain us. It is advisable, however, in this connection not to overlook the subject of Christian _ascetics_: a word which has often excited unjust suspicion and contempt, and thereby been robbed of the noble associations which rightfully belong to it.
The name 'ascetics' is suitably applied to those Divinely-sanctioned exercises which, by precept and example, Christ commended as aids to holiness--Prayer, Almsgiving, and Fasting. Reflection, indeed, shews that these ordinances occupy a conspicuous place in the Gospel, because they have a natural connection with the three principal spheres of Christian duty,--duty towards God, towards man, towards self. They are ways in which devotion to God, love to man, discipline of self, find each an appropriate expression. Reason and experience alike suggest that the Christian character, with its harmonious beauty and delicate strength, can only be the product of continuous spiritual discipline, wise restraint, and regulated effort. A feature, therefore, of Christ's practical teaching is His provision for what is, to average human nature, at least a moral necessity. Presenting Himself as the supreme example of the freedom which can control and use circumstances for a spiritual end, He lays down the threefold rule of Christian ascetics, to guide the wills and affections of those whom He calls to follow His steps.
The end of discipline is, of course, freedom: that is, the perfect dominion of the Spirit in man. Aiming at this liberty the Christian looks on the threefold ordinance of prayer, almsgiving, and fasting as a help to his development; it is to him no mere arbitrary direction imposed by authority, no vexatious restraint on lawful pleasure; but an efficacious aid to Christ-like holiness commended by the practice, and proved by the experience, of holy men in every age, and expressly enjoined by our Lord Himself[572].
It may surprise us somewhat to find _Prayer_ included among ascetic exercises. For prayer is the ordinary activity of the human spirit in relation to God: man's natural expression of self-dedication: his effort to embrace God's Will as his choice, God's Law as his rule, God's Perfection as his pattern. Yet because prayer implies regularity, discipline, persevering effort; because it has its different parts, its proper occasions, and methods; because it is the exercise of a distinct faculty; in short, because it is an arduous work, it finds a place among exercises which seem at first sight to be of a more formal character.
This will appear more clearly on consideration of the different parts of prayer. Thus prayer is in part to be viewed as humble acknowledgment of an ideal unattained, and consequent renewal of desire in that direction. As containing, therefore, an element of self-purification, of striving after deeper self-knowledge, prayer includes the practice of self-examination and confession of sin. Regarded, again, as an exercise of affection and intellect, prayer takes the form of _contemplation_, and communion with God, as the supreme object of reverence and love. Thus it is evident that prayer is a real exercise, well fitted to be an education, of the soul, and arduous because it implies an intense activity of the entire personality. Even the body has its share in this exercise. It is the appointed instrument of man's spiritual self-oblation; and prayer is the acknowledgment not only that God is the 'Father of spirits,' but that the body also 'is for the Lord[573].'
_Almsgiving_ is placed by Christ among known and admitted forms of devotion. Viewed simply as an action, it is an obvious outlet of Christian love to man[574]. But almsgiving has another aspect, on which early writers insist with some fullness. It is a means of grace, a purifying element in the spiritual life of the agent. It is not often, perhaps, that this side of the duty is adequately taught. The danger of 'charity' becoming reckless or ill-directed is real, and may cause Christian teachers to be reticent on the subject. Yet this aspect of the truth must not be suppressed. And after all, almsgiving seems to be specially mentioned by our Lord as a type of all works of mercy[575]. Love, in its effort to imitate God, need not be less discriminating than communicative. The Fatherly providence of God is in fact the Christian's inspiration and his model: and we interpret the scope of our Lord's commandment by study of _His_ life who 'for our sakes, though rich, became poor,' and 'went about doing good,' and who taught us in one pregnant sentence the mysterious efficacy of almsgiving[576]. It need not be added that true Christian charity is ever controlled by a due sense of the dignity of human nature, and of the moral bond that unites giver and receiver.
Each of the three exercises under consideration is conditioned and aided by the other two. There is a specially close connection, however, between prayer and _fasting_. As a means of self-discipline, fasting has been strangely neglected. Some regard it as a burdensome restraint on the will; others as 'unsuited to a spiritual religion;' others as unduly interfering with Christian liberty. Chiefly, perhaps, the neglect of fasting is due to inexperience of its value as a condition of spiritual power, and forgetfulness of the place assigned to it in the teaching of our Lord and of the early Church. It is thus right to insist, first, on its claim to be a Divine ordinance[577]. There can be nothing superfluous or incongruous in a practice which Christ is so careful to regulate, and which He commends by His own example. But the practice of fasting justifies itself as a point of simple wisdom in the care of the personal life. Christian holiness requires, as we have seen, an inward unity of the personality, in which no one element has undue predominance. Bodily instincts and passions, the powers of thought and imagination, the bias of temperament--all have to be brought into subjection to the controlling will. And the result is a character exhibiting a due balance of different elements: a chastened spirit of dependence, spiritualized affections, subdued thoughts, sober judgment, a purified heart, a sensitive conscience, a just fear of unbridled appetite, a true simplicity. Such is Christ-like holiness; and one great condition of its attainment is fasting, chiefly in its literal sense of regular abstinence from food[578], though its forms may be as varied as are the avenues of sense-impressions. The motive of fasting may not be always the same: sometimes it is the expression of penitential sorrow for sin, or of the passion for inward purity; sometimes it is used as a special aid to prayer; sometimes, again, it is the sign of wearisome conflict with the lower nature; in any case it should be an exercise of love. Thus we regard fasting, not as mere soulless, joyless abstinence; but as a needful condition of purity, energy, vigour of will, clearness of moral insight, and capacity to impart spiritual gifts to our fellow-men. 'Wise souls,' says S. Leo, 'mortify their bodies and crucify their senses; and therein set before themselves God's will, loving themselves the more, in proportion as for the love of God they love not themselves[579].'
Our apology for touching on topics so homely might well be that the practical aim of ethics gives such points importance. There can be no excuse needed, however, in days of wide-spread luxury, and of much needlessly imperfect Christianity, for recalling and re-asserting the necessity of the discipline, as well as of the moral precepts, of the Sermon on the Mount.
V. _Christ's teaching as to the Consummation of God's Kingdom._
An outline of Christian Ethics would be incomplete without some reference to those eschatological truths which occupy so large a place in theology, and have so direct a bearing on morals. We have already touched on them in connection with the Christian doctrine of the Chief Good. It remains to consider them in relation to the perfection of man's nature.
The word 'perfection' reminds us that there is a goal of the moral process exhibited in history. The visible order of the universe and the history of mankind are verging towards a consummation, a catastrophe, which relatively to us must be regarded as an end.
It is no part of our task to discuss the intermediate stage through which the kingdom of God is destined to pass: that stage in which there is to be a supreme manifestation of moral evil, a culmination of those tendencies and an outburst of those forces which already seem to threaten not the framework merely, but the foundations of society. The decay of Christian Churches, the profound corruption of social life, the tyranny of materialistic lawlessness--these seem to be plainly foretold in Scripture, and with a purpose: that of shielding men from a moral despair which might paralyse their efforts, or undermine their patience, as they witness the beginnings of these 'birth-pangs[580]' of a new order. The Christian will ever guard against such a temper of alienation, or self-isolation, from the world, as will lead him to depreciate the national, political, or civil movements of his time. For civilization is appointed to reach, through whatever convulsions, an ethical consummation, the prospect of which must inspire strength to labour, and patience to endure.
The last stage of the kingdom of God is one of glory, to be exhibited in the perfection of the moral community. It is for this that creation waits: to this, as the goal of history, that inspired prophecy points. Two revealed truths are intended to guide our conception of this prospect.
In the first place, the kingdom of God is to be finally _manifested_ in its true character[581]: an event which must involve momentous consequences for the physical creation. Scripture sometimes speaks as if beneath the outer semblance of visible nature there lay concealed an inner glory, destined, when the semblance passes, to shine forth in full radiance and splendour[582]. The truth is thus symbolically conveyed that since man is the crown and lord of the physical universe, his final emancipation will carry with it a corresponding change in his outward environment. But this consummation, no less than the progressive movement of mankind towards it, is due to the deliberate working and intervention in history of God Himself. Naturalism points to a precarious prospect of human happiness in the future, as contingent upon 'a perfect adjustment of society[583].' Christianity does not look to any improvement in material conditions, nor to any social process, as likely to bring about an ideal state of humanity. Neither the physical universe, nor man himself, can attain to the goal of their development, or to the perfection of their nature, apart from God[584].
Again, the kingdom of God is to be purified through _judgment_. The exact nature of this judgment it is impossible for thought to anticipate. But the teaching of revelation is at least so explicit as to discredit any conception of the judgment which would confine its operation to this present scene, or restrict its meaning to any merely natural process. The judgment is, in fact, appointed for a definite hour, and is prefigured in definite historical catastrophes. It will be parallel to, but transcending, those manifestations of Divine power in history which mankind has already experienced. And the effect of this final intervention will be to put an end to that mixed condition of human things which it is our tendency to accept and assume as inevitable and perpetual. Out of God's kingdom will be gathered 'all things that offend;' and the collective mass of humanity will be, with whatever gradations in the stage of perfection attained by each individual, a 'congregation of saints[585].' The principle of Good will so achieve its final triumph.
When we further inquire, as we are impelled to do, what will be the extent of this final triumph, we are met by the fact of our own ignorance, and of Christ's reserve. His simple, severe statements seem intended to discourage fruitless speculation. We are thrown back in this as in other perplexities, on our unfailing assurance of God's character, and on the faint analogies furnished by the present order of things.
The Gospel speaks of a righteous dominion, the sphere of which is to be without limit. We read of a gathering into the kingdom of all that is in true harmony with its purpose. We find warrant for the belief in an intermediate state in which imperfect character may be developed, ignorance enlightened, sin chastened, desire purified. And yet we are assured that the consequences of action and choice abide, and are eternal in their issue; and we know that impenitence must finally, and under awful conditions, separate the soul from God. But we have not enough for a coherent system. All that we can affirm is that the victory of Good seems to demand the preservation of all that has not wilfully set itself in antagonism to Divine Love, Holiness, and Power. We cannot think that helpless ignorance, or inevitable poverty of character will finally sever a human soul from God. Analogy suggests that there will be scope in a future dispensation for the healing ministries, and inventive service of Love. So again, Scripture does not expressly teach that the lost will for ever be in a state of defiance and rebellion. Even in the awful state of final severance from the Divine presence there is room for assent, order, acceptance of penalty; and so far, _evil_, in the sense of the will antagonistic to God's righteous Law--may have ceased to exist. Truth will have prevailed; and all orders of intelligent creatures will render it homage. The final issue will be seen, and the justice confessed, of all those 'ways' of God which are 'unsearchable and past finding out.' In a word, there will be a complete manifestation of supreme Holiness and Love: of Him, whose 'mercy is over all His works,' and who will continue to stand in direct relation to every soul that He has made, revealing Himself to each either as loving Father or as righteous Judge[586].
It must however be added that what is called 'Universalism' finds no support either in the solemn statements of Jesus Christ, or in the analogy of nature. Man's very power of choice implies the possibility of a sinful state admitting neither of repentance nor of remedy; not of repentance--for character, growing by separate acts of choice, may become fixed and hardened in its persistent refusal of the good; not of remedy--for, as even the Greek moralist, with all his belief in the moulding power of law, confesses, there is a degree of moral perversion 'incurable'--that namely which ensues when sin has finally destroyed the faculties to which moral appeal is possible--desire, fear, hope, affection, the sense of shame.
With the end of history corresponds that of the individual man. The ultimate perfection of human character is not only regarded as possible in Scripture--but is suggested by analogy[587]: and of the conditions of perfected human nature, we are enabled to form some idea partly by our knowledge of angelic beings, partly by a study of our Lord's Humanity in its risen state[588].
i. Thus human personality, in its perfected form, implies a state of _harmony_. As each element in human nature will be preserved in its appropriate condition, so each will fulfil its rightful function[589]. The relation between body and spirit will be that which is ethically the highest conceivable. In man will be represented, as in a microcosm, a state of being in which the first creation has been appropriated by, and made the organ of the Divine Spirit[590]. The material body will become one perfectly subservient to, and expressive of, the free movements of a purified spirit[591]. And to this state of personality will belong a final harmony between moral law and freedom. Human beings will have become 'partakers of the Divine Nature,' so far as to experience in themselves the union of liberty, holiness, and love:
Indulging every instinct of the soul
There where law, life, joy, impulse, are one thing[592].
ii. Perfection further implies a state of _glory_; a word which, whether used of Christ Himself or of His followers, seems in the New Testament to mean the outward manifestation of a holy character. The gradual assimilation to God, which is the law of true human development on earth, is the law of an unending progress. But in the perfect state, character will find due splendour of outward expression. Man's bodily frame will pass through successive stages 'from glory to glory,' to a semblance faithfully reflecting the inward supernatural life[593]. And in the marvellous union of outward with inward recreation consists the 'glory,' of which human nature is capable.
iii. Perfection is consummated by blessedness. The conception of _bliss_ as transcending _happiness_ (εὐδαιμονία) is peculiar to Christian Ethics. Happiness is a word of earth, and represents a good which may be attained independently of life in God. Bliss is inseparable from a living relation to God. It implies union with God.
But though it is true that 'man possesses the plenitude of his perfection in God,' the analogy of the present dispensation points to a further element in 'blessedness,' namely, that of fellowship in a moral community: the redeemed 'have fellowship one with another,' in an 'indissoluble life[594].' In fact the perfection of the individual, according to God's separate ideal for each, demands that of the moral community. Blessedness thus means that state wherein, by a society of renewed personal beings, 'the Highest Good is loved and enjoyed[595].'
This community of free and perfected beings, with God as its Centre, is the revealed ethical consummation of our race. And as the manifestation of God's kingdom is to Christians the supreme object of aspiration, and the highest matter of prayer, so the effort to advance and extend its sphere is the worthiest task that can be embraced by the will. The conception of such a kingdom, to be made actual through the exertion of human faculties co-operating with the invincible energy of the Divine will, is the greatest thought that ever enriched mankind. In the attempt to further the limits, or promote the welfare of this kingdom, man finds his truest happiness, and his noblest field of activity. For he is engaged in the same work as God Himself[596]: he has the same interest in its accomplishment. He has found the absolutely good sphere of effort and desire; all else in which men busy themselves can only be ethically _good_ in proportion as it bears on, or hastens the approach of, that 'one far off Divine event.'
VI. _Conclusion._
It is our Lord's method to present to men an ideal, before He descends to the requirements of practical life. The Sermon on the Mount describes the life of 'blessedness' before it treats of duty; and from duty, passes to the means of holiness. Such an example suggests one or two concluding reflections.
First we may recall the true bearing of a methodical inquiry into Christian Ethics. The kingdom of God stands in contrast with, but in special relation to, all modes and products of social activity. It makes use of all the material which human life offers, or human faculties supply, so far as it is capable of serving a Divine purpose, or revealing any aspect of the Divine Life. For that Life having once for all intervened in history, continues ever to appropriate and hallow all that comes within the wide range of Its outflow; Education, Criticism, Science, Art; Industry, Wealth; Law, Polity--all these are capable of becoming ethical forces, of ministering to man's true end, of contributing something to the highest life. Into the Holy City the kings of the earth bring their glory and honour: and to a Christian Church are addressed the far-reaching words, 'All things are yours[597].'
There is in fact a 'world-appropriating' element in Christianity, as the ethical religion; and it is essential that the significance of this fact should be grasped, if Christian morality is to be rightly apprehended, or fairly presented in systematic form.
Further, in advancing a claim to mould and regenerate human society, the Christian Church can only continue to rely on her traditional instrument,--the recreation of individual character. The social movements which an enlightened Christian judgment approves, are those gradual and irresistible changes which result from the slowly-reached apprehension of some neglected moral truth, as it gradually commends itself to individual consciences. And such movements are to be judged as they display, or bear upon character. If for example a Christian mistrusts the extravagant schemes of some forms of Socialism,--it is not because he is insensible to the wrongs and miseries which suggest a violent remedy, but because all such sweeping proposals would merge the individual life, would repress and mar the fulness of that organized social life which gains elements of richness and diversity from the free play of individuality.
The study of ideals will also have suggested the relation which the Church bears to modern life. The Church, we have seen, is the school of human character; the nurse, therefore, of such civil and social virtues as give stability to human institutions. In her midst, Divine forces are really and manifestly at work, tending to bring about the regeneration of mankind. And in connection with this view of the Church, we need to observe the power of character; the practical 'supremacy of goodness,' or at least its tendency to be supreme; its capacity to control and modify the pressure of circumstance. A condition of all true thinking about the social future will surely be a just estimate of _character_ as a social and industrial force; it is a growing sense of this truth that is doing much to revolutionize our economic theories. We are learning perhaps that manfulness, mercy, self-control, pity are among the forces which must be taken into account by social science.
And if the Church is a gift of God to mankind, and there be but one end of all His gifts, namely, the restoration of His image in man, we must believe that the fairest fruits of Christianity, and the many-sided fulness of Christlike character, can appear only in those who live loyal to the moral discipline of the Church, who are ruled by her wisdom, chastened by awe of her beauty, penetrated by her spirit. The kingdom of God is more--infinitely more--than an ideal condition of human society; but we know that the kingdom, even in this limited sense of the word, will be the heritage only of a nation 'bringing forth the fruits thereof.'
[456] 1 S. Pet. i. 21 ὥστε τὴν πίστιν ὑμῶν καὶ ἐλπίδα εἶναι εἰς θεόν.
[457] Heb. i. 1.
[458] See Dorner, _Syst. of Christian Ethics_, § 35.
[459] Eph. i. 4.
[460] Cp. Plato, _Tim._ xxix. E.
[461] Athan. _de Incarn._ x.
[462] Clem. Alex. _Quis Dives_, etc. vii. ἀρχὴ καὶ κρηπὶς ζωῆ, ἐπιστήμη θεοῦ, τοῦ ὄντως ὄντος ... ἡ μὲν γὰρ τούτου ἄγνοια θάνατός ἐστιν, ἡ δὲ ἐπίγνωσις αὐτοῦ καὶ οἰκείωσις, καὶ πρὸς αὐτὸν ἀγάπη καὶ ἐξομοίωσις, μόνη ζωή.
[463] Aug. _de moribus Eccl._ xii.
[464] Athan. _cont. Gentes_, iii. describes the aversion of man from God as beginning in 'self-contemplation' (ἑαυτοὺς κατανοεῖν ἤρξαντο).
[465] Ath. _c. Gent._ ii.
[466] Wace, _Boyle Lectures_, ser. 1, Lect. vii. Cp. Col. i. 28.
[467] 2 Cor. v. 4, 5 ὁ κατεργασάμενος ἡμᾶς εἰς αὐτὸ τοῦτο θεός.
[468] Lactant. _Div. Inst._ iii. 12, 'Haec vita praesens et corporalis beata esse non potest, quia malis est subjecta per corpus.... Si cadit _beatitudo_, ergo et _immortalitas_ cadit in hominem, quae beata est.'
[469] Eph. v. 1. Ep. _ad Diog._ x.
[470] Bp. Butler's sermons emphasize this side of the doctrine of conscience, esp. the _Preface_. Cp. Flint, _Theism_, lect. vii.
[471] See Phil. i. 9, and Heb. v. 14 (the Greek).
[472] Rom. i. 21. Athan. _cont. Gentes_, iii-xi.
[473] Wace, _Boyle Lect._, ser. 1, Lect. II.
[474] Anselm, _Cur Deus Homo_, I. xii. 'Libertas non est nisi ad hoc quod expedit aut quod decet.'
[475] See Martineau, _Types of Eth. Theory_, vol. i. 93; ii. 39 [Ed. 2]. Holland, _Creed and Character_, Serm. X.
[476] Aug. _de mor. Eccl._ xxi. '[Deo] solo dominante liberrimus.' Observe that as freedom grows, the choice becomes more restricted by the law πάντα ἔξεστιν, ἀλλ᾽ οὐ πάντα συμφέρει (1 Cor. x. 23). Cp. Pet. Lomb. _Sent._ ii. xxv. 7.
[477] Cyp. _de op. et eleem._ i. 'Pater Filium misit ut _reparare_ nos posset.' Such language is usual with the Fathers.
[478] The whole subject of sin, guilt, punishment is germane to our subject, but for present purposes must be left on one side.
[479] Iren. iii. 18. 7 [Stieren] ἔδει γὰρ τὸν μεσίτην θεοῠ τε καὶ ἀνθρώπων διὰ τῆς ἰδίας πρὸς ἑκατέρους οἰκειότητος εἰς φιλίαν καὶ ὁμονοίαν τοὺς ἀμφοτέρους συναγαγεῑν, καὶ θεῷ μὲν παραστῆσαι τὸν ἄνθρωποω, ἀνθρώποις δὲ γνωρίσαι τὸν θεόν.
[480] Heb. iii. 1. Cyp. _de idol. van._ xi. 'Quod homo est, esse Christus voluit, ut et homo possit esse quod Christus est.'
[481] Bern, _de consid._ v. 1, 'Quid quod et inferioribus eges?... Nonne praeposterum hoc et indignum? Plane superiorum quaedam injuria est inferiorum operam desiderare: a qua injuria nemo hominum perfecte vindicabitur nisi cum quisque evaserit in libertatem filiorum Dei.'
[482] S. Matt. vi. 33.
[483] S. Luke xvii. 21; S. Matt. xiii. 45 foll. (Parable of the Pearl). Cp. Rom. xiv. 17 ἡ βασιλεία τοῦ θεοῦ ... ἐστιν ... δικαιοσύνη καὶ εἰρήνη καὶ χαρὰ ἐν πνεύματι ἁγίῳ.
[484] Wace, _ubi sup._ Lect. VIII. Ambr. _de off. min._ ii. 3, 4.
[485] Aug. _de mor. Eccl._ xiii. 'Bonorum summa Deus nobis est; Deus est nobis summum bonum.' _Ib._ xviii. 'Secutio Dei, beatitatis appetitus est; consecutio, ipsa beatitas.'
[486] Thom. Aquin. _Summa_, i. iiᵃᵉ. Qu. i. 2, 'Illa quae rationem habent seipsa movent ad finem, quia habent dominium suorum actuum per liberum arbitrium.... Illa vero quae ratione carent tendunt in finem propter naturalem inclinationem quasi ab alio mota, non autem a seipsis, cum non cognoscant rationem finis; et ideo nihil in finem ordinare possunt, sed solum in finem ab alio ordinantur.'
[487] See Godet, _Comm. on 1 Corinthians_ [Clark], vol. i. p. 236.
[488] S. Matt. xix. 28; S. Luke xxii. 30.
[489] S. John iii. 16.
[490] S. John iii. 33. See Dorner's _System of Ethics_ [Clark], § 47.
[491] 2 Cor. iv. 8; vi. 10. Cp. Rom. viii. 28.
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Lux Mundi: A Series of Studies in the Religion of the Incarnation,Chapter XII: Christian Ethics (2)
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