CHAPTER III. THE PROPHET IN THE CHURCH.

FOR the individual and the community alike the deepest influences are

expressed in life rather than words, yet it remains true that through

the symbols of spoken thought life must again and again come to

expression. In former days this was realised in the value set upon

prophecy, if we may use the word in its broadest and highest sense, as

the forth-telling, in the language of human thought, of the Divine will

present behind our lives and at work amid the world.

One of the changes that strike one most in organized Christianity

to-day, compared with the Church of earlier times, is the general

absence of prophecy in this sense, in all but very occasional crises.

The prophetic instinct is not dead indeed, but men find its highest

manifestations rather outside the Church of earlier times. The leaders

of the Church have been too often content to repeat the messages of the

prophets of a former day rather than to seek for a living voice within

their midst. Yet those who know anything of the life of the Church from

within, judged not merely by this incomplete [p.34 ]expression, but seen

as it affects the daily lives of countless men and women, must surely

agree that in spite of all the trammels of convention and tradition the

Church has still a life to pass on and a message to deliver for the

needs of to-day. Those who would have it become once more the school of

the prophets will surely be willing to look for a few moments at the

picture which has come down to us of what place prophecy filled in the

Church life of the earliest days, and how the prophet was supplanted,

not killed, as some have thought, by the priest, but rather silenced by

the iron grip of organization.

In the fourteenth chapter of the first epistle to the Corinthians is

preserved for us a picture the meetings of an early Christian Church,

full of interest to the historian.

It is clear from this description that an important part was usually

taken in these gatherings by men who gave to their fellow worshippers

what they believed to be God's message or revelation to them. This was

something quite distinct from the recitation of a hymn or a passage of

Scripture, or from the interpretation of scripture, or again from the

teaching of doctrine. It is regarded by the Apostle Paul as the highest

spiritual gift, one earnestly to be desired, although it was not given

to all, but only to some. Of the nature of this ministry we get a

glimpse in his description of the way in which an unbeliever who enters

the assembly is convinced by it. [p.35] The ministry goes to his inmost

self, reading the needs of his heart.

"If all prophesy, and there come in one that believeth not, or one

unlearned, he is convinced of all, he is judged of all: and thus are the

secrets of his heart made manifest; and so falling down on his face he

will worship God, and report that God is in you of a truth.[3] <#_edn3>

The message of prophecy is one, as it seems, which reaches the

subconscious self of the incomer, who suddenly beholds the realities of

his own inner life in this flood of light that flows in upon him,

piercing through the veil that custom and convention had wrought about

him. But the prophetic word does not merely give this fuller knowledge

of his own nature to the stranger; it puts him also into touch with a

higher self. He sees in a flash of revelation not only the evil in his

own life, but the source of power to set it right, here in the midst of

this assembly, and bowing himself before it he confesses the Divine

Presence.

If we ask how this prophetic ministry is conceived as coming to those

who exercise it, it would seem from the words of the Apostle that it is

not by exercise of the intellect that prophecy comes, though the

understanding is to be cultivated in connection with another highly

prized gift, that of teaching. But the Corinthians are urged to long

after the gift of prophecy most of all; they [p.36] are to prepare

themselves for it, then, by prayer, the door through which our life

opens out into the Divine life and is fed from it. The teacher thinks

over what he knows of the needs and difficulties of his fellows, ponders

over the truths that have been made clear to him in the past, searches

amongst the sayings of the Lord, the teachings of the Apostles, the

words of the Law or the prophets of old, for help for the present. Not

so the prophet. He may, indeed, go through all this preparation of

thought, but the essential preparation for his work is prayer; prayer in

which he must be willing to lay aside, if need be, all these thoughts of

this. The prophetic spirit reaches out to realize the condition of those

to whom it is to minister, and upward in search of light and strength

from its only source.

Sometimes it is not given to the prophet to reach conscious hold of Him

by whom we are all upheld, and then all his ministry may be but a cry

for help, with a deep sense of need. Sometimes he feels the presence

very near, and as he keeps close to the Father's hand, those about him

are given to feel it too.

Or, perhaps, some word of the Lord, or some thought of other days is

suddenly illumined by a fresh light, and his message is to hand on the

fire from the altar, that those about him may light their torches too.

The prophet is God's spokesman. He must lose thought of himself in his

message. He is [p.37] translating for others and to others in the

presence of the Giver of the message. He must keep in touch with those

to whom he is speaking. He must remember too how easy it is for

interpreters to expand and embroider upon the original, and thus to mar

it. And, therefore, the prophet should keep very close to the Giver of

the message, who may have given to others its fuller exposition.

One danger of the prophets of Corinth was very present to St. Paul's mind.

Some of them seem to have got so wrapt up in a sense of the Divine

communion that they did not keep that control of their whole nature,

which would lead them to find expression in the language of

intelligence. Carried away by their feelings they gave utterance to the

experience of their spirit in words broken and unintelligible, the

channels of word and thought over which their brains had control seemed

too small for the flood of emotion which swept out in overmastering

power, so that their tongues moved and they spoke without knowing what

they said. Paul knew better than any of them the hidden things of the

Spirit, the groanings that cannot be uttered, the thoughts that flash

upon us and cannot be caught up by our halting reason, following slowly

after, the striving of the soul that no words can compass, the God-given

intuitions which cannot be imprisoned in words.

But he knew too that language was given us not for the joy of expressing

what we feel but as [p.38] a means of sharing our experience with

others. To speak with an unknown tongue, to abandon oneself to the

ecstasy of the moment, may be right for our own life, he writes, but it

is useless for our fellows. We must not be content to soar up ourselves

into the world of life and light, we must try to bring back into our

world of sense some symbols of the truths of the world beyond,

imprisoning in words which men may understand fragments of the truths

which can never wholly be expressed in words.

At times the message burns so within the prophet's breast that he feels

he must speak, no matter what is happening about him. Thus it seems that

sometimes at Corinth two or three prophets would speak at once, and mar

each other's messages. But this was to lose sight of their true place,

to forget that the message was given them that others might receive it.

The prophet, he writes, is still master of his own spirit: he is not to

allow his reason to lose its right control. He has to use his

intelligence in deciding when he is to speak and when he must hold

silence. He has not to let his conscious self be submerged in the

sub-conscious, like an island beneath the waves of the surrounding sea;

rather is he to gather on to its dry land the goods the waves have

brought him, before he sends them forth again to other shores. In this

way may the Divine message not only bring help to him but comfort to all

to whom it is sent. [p.39] Thus the picture of the Church of Corinth and

St. Paul's advice for its needs is one to which men may look who are

seeking to-day for that true prophetic ministry which seemed to the

Apostle the most important of the gifts of the Spirit to the Christian

Church.

It may help us too to consider how far that gift has been present

throughout the succeeding ages, and how far it has been hindered by the

Church from finding its true exercise.

When next we get a glimpse of the Church at Corinth, more than a

generation has passed away, and probably few of those who were members

when St. Paul wrote are still alive. The majority of the church is in

disagreement with its Elders or Bishops, and has deposed them from their

positions; and the Bishop of Rome, Clement writes in the name of his

church, in reply to some letter from the Corinthians, to urge them to be

reconciled, and give once more the honour that is their due to these

worthy presbyters. The first epistle of Clement is a long and beautiful

letter, and enters with tact and deep concern into a discussion of the

dissension that is troubling the peace of the Corinthians, but it makes

no mention whatever of the place of prophecy in the Church. The word

prophet does occur twice in the epistle, but only in reference to the

Old Testament.

At the same time it is clear that Clement is very sensible of the

importance of the position of [p.40] the bishops or presbyters, though

it is not quite clear whether these are wholly distinct offices.

Apparently the Church at Corinth was trying, in the spirit of Greek

democracy, to dispense with its church officers. Clement tells them [4]

how the Apostles went about setting up bishops and deacons

amongst the first fruits of their converts in different cities; these

offices had even been foreseen ages before, he notes, by the prophet

Isaiah (Ix. 17). [5] <#_edn5>

It was not right, he urges, that men who had been appointed by the

apostles and afterwards by other men of renown, with the consent and

approval of the whole Church, who had fulfilled their duties without

blame, should now be cast out of their offices.

If we turn to another group of letters, written some twelve years later

by Ignatius of Antioch, on his way to martyrdom at Rome, we find, again,

that the only references to prophets and prophecy deal with old

Testament days, but that the greatest importance is set by Ignatius upon

the relations of the Church to its Bishop: "Do all of you," he bids the

Church of Smyrna, [6] "follow the Bishop, as Jesus Christ the

Father, and follow the College of Presbyters as the Apostles, and give

heed to the deacons as God's commandment. Let no man do anything of

those things that appertain to the Church apart from the Bishop. Let

that Eucharist be accounted valid that is under the authority of the

Bishop or of him to whomsoever he himself entrusts it. Wheresoever the

Bishop appeareth there let the multitude be, even as wheresoever Christ

Jesus is there is the Catholic Church. It is not lawful apart from the

Bishop either to baptise or to hold an Agape, but whatsoever he approves

that is also well pleasing to God; that all that is done may be safe and

valid." (According to present Catholic doctrine even a woman may validly

baptize.)

We see at once that it would not be easy to fit into such an ordered

Church as this prophets like those of the earliest Church in Corinth.

But while in most of the larger towns the churches had been developing

along lines like these it would seem that at the same time there were

out of the way places in which a much more primitive tradition was

preserved.

We can get some idea of this from the passages in the Didache which

refer to prophets and travelling apostles.

Two whole chapters of this ancient book of teaching (xi. and xiii.) are

devoted to this subject, whereas only the briefest mention is made of

bishops and deacons, and in these words, "Elect then for yourselves

bishops and deacons, worthy of the Lord, men gentle and not money

loving, true and tested, for they too themselves offer to you the

service of the prophets and teachers; [p.42] "Despise them not then, for

these are they who are honoured of you along with the prophets and

teachers."

Thus it would seem that the bishops and deacons are chosen by the Church

for its work, perhaps in default of sufficiency of prophets and

teachers, to do the work which these would do, and they seem at least to

need, in the writer's eyes, to be supported by an appeal which he would

not think of making on behalf of the prophet and teacher whose messages

carry within themselves their authority. That the true prophet stands,

in his eyes, above the human ordering of the church, seems clear too,

from the section which gives instructions as to the words (and very

beautiful words they are too) of the eucharistic prayer (ch. x.). At the

conclusion of this model prayer the writer adds: "but allow the prophets

to offer thanks as much as they choose."

Warning of almost naive simplicity is given against dangers from false

prophets. Apparently the temptation to emotional enthusiasm is not

before the writer's mind, as it was before Paul's in writing to Corinth.

The travelling evangelist, or apostle, as he is called, is to be

received "as the Lord," but if he stay for as long as three days he is

to be recognised as a false prophet. The readers are warned not to judge

the prophet who speaks in the spirit, this being treated as the sin

against the Holy Ghost.

"But not every man who speaks in the spirit [p.43] is a prophet," the

writer goes on," but only if he have the ways of the Lord," thus making

the character of Christ the objective standard by which prophets are judged.

"From their ways then shall the false prophet and the prophet be known,

and every prophet who appoints a feast in the spirit does not eat of it,

unless, indeed, he be a false prophet, and every prophet who teaches the

truth, if he does not do that which he teaches, is a false prophet." The

readers are warned against judging the prophet who does some strange

symbolic act for the edification of the Church without bidding others to

do as he does," for even thus also did the ancient prophets." "But whoso

saith in the spirit Give me money, or any other things, to him ye shall

not hearken; but if he speak concerning others who are in need, and bids

men give, let no man judge him" (ch. xi.). The true prophet who is

willing to settle amongst them is worthy of his keep, they are told, and

so is the true teacher; "and so," the writer continues, "ye shall take

every first- fruit of the produce of your wine-press and threshing

floor, of your oxen and of your flocks, and shall give to the prophets,

for they are your high priests.

"But if ye have not a prophet give to the poor; and so likewise with

bread, oil and wine, with

money, clothes and all other things" (ch. xiii.).

Here we have, perhaps, the hint of a transitional stage between the

early church of Corinth and the churches of Clement and Ignatius. The

prophet [p.44] has the first place of honour and next to him the teacher

but all churches have not their prophet, and in these bishops and

deacons must act in the place of prophets and teachers, and be honoured

as such, while in other churches the prophets and teachers were treated

as a sort of Christian priest, and one may see how their work came to be

regarded as a regular church office and gradually assimilated, in church

after church to the offices customary in the larger congregations like

Rome and Antioch. As time passes the place of the prophet is more and

more taken by the bishop, and by the end of the second century it would

seem, that, for such a bishop of the Church Catholic as Apollinaris of

Hierapolis, the prophet was a memory of the distant past.

The Montanist movement in Phrygia had owed its strength to the appeal

which it made to the prophetic tradition and the prophetic spirit. In

the reign of Marcus Aurelius, the Phrygian convert Montanus had gone

into prophetic ecstasies which shocked the more orderly members of the

church, and a separation ensued, in which Montanus was joined by two

prophetesses, Prisca and Maximilla; they continued for some time, it

would seem, to appeal to those within the greater church to recognise

them, for a fragment of Maximilla which is preserved to us, runs thus:

"I am chased like a wolf from the flock; I am wolf, I am utterance,

spirit and power." (Eusebius v.§ 16). [p. 45]

Some, like Tertullian, listened; but the Church, as a whole, was

frightened at the excesses of their enthusiasm and probably, as a

result, prophecy became more than ever suspect. Irenaeus, it is true,

mentions amongst the Divine gifts still given to Christians in his day,

that some have the knowledge of things to come, as also visions and

prophetic communications (Eus. v. § 7), but this certainly does not

imply any frequent and general gift like that in the early church of

Corinth.

His contemporary Alcibiades, indeed, writes a book to demonstrate the

impropriety of a prophet's speaking in ecstasy, which Apollinaris

abridged (Eus. v. § 17). The good bishop of Hierapolis was very earnest

in his attack against the Montanists: "They will never be able to show,"

he writes, "that any in the Old or New Testament were thus violently

agitated and carried away in spirit. Neither will they be able to boast

that Agabus or Judas or Silas or the daughters of Phillip or Ammia, in

Philadelphia, or Quadratus or others, that do not belong to them, ever

acted in this way." It is very significant that the latest examples of

eminent prophets in the Church here named, are Quadratus and Ammia.

Ammia appears to be unknown to Eusebius, who alludes to her in this

chapter as "one Ammia," but Quadratus he has mentioned in a previous

book as a prophet contemporary with Ignatius, in these words: "Of those

that flourished in these times Quadratus is said to have been

distinguished for his prophetical gifts. There [p.46] were many others

also noted in these times who held the first rank in the apostolic

succession." (iii. § 37); whether this Quadratus is to be identified

with the philosopher who wrote an apology for Christianity to Hadrian

(iv.§ 3) is uncertain.

It seems from the words of Apollinaris, which Eusebius goes on to quote

(v. § 17), that the Montanists claimed that their prophets and

prophetesses were the successors of Ammia and Quadratus, but Maximilla

had now been dead for some years, and the bishop challenges his

opponents to point to any living prophet who had succeeded her: "And if

you have no succession of prophets then," he urges, "you must give up

your claim to represent the Christian Church. (For the apostle shows

that the gift of prophecy shall be in all the church until the coming of

the Lord)." What would have been the bishop's answer if the Montanists

had turned on him with the demand that he, too, should produce his

living prophets within the pale of the great church? In view of what he

has told us, may we not believe that his answer would be somewhat on

this wise: "The gift of prophecy has never been removed from the church;

though it may be dormant as far as such prophecies as those of Quadratus

are concerned, it may be called forth again at any time by the Divine

will, and will be recognised at once by the bishops, who are the

divinely appointed authorities, without whose approval no true prophet

will act. And if there be no such prophets [p.47] now, in any church,

the bishop takes their place, expounding as is fit the will of the Lord

to the people, and guided himself by the Holy Spirit"? How are we to

explain this remarkable change that we have thus witnessed, and was it

the necessary and right development of the Church which led to it?

To those who know how, in the seventeenth century, another experiment

was begun, which after nearly nine generations, is not yet ended, in the

holding together of religious communities of which an essential feature

has always been the freedom of prophesying, it may, at first sight, seem

easy to reply that the change was no necessary one.

One would not say that they were wrong, for who can say what might not

have been, if men had only been faithful to their highest ideals, and

been willing always to take the rough and narrow way that leads straight

up to the heavenly city? But we shall, perhaps judge more fairly if we

think how very much greater were the difficulties that beset the

Christian organisms of the first and second centuries, than those, great

as they were, with which George Fox had to grapple. He had, it is true,

to deal with companies of men and women, amongst whom were enthusiasts

or individualistic quietists, who would brook no discipline, and many of

them were poor and very ignorant folk; but how different in many cases

was a church of the first century. Imagine a [p.48] community of varying

nationalities, containing a number of slaves, many of them illiterate

people, others degraded by their past life to the lowest depths; men and

women rescued from lives of terrible evil and still under constant

temptation to fall back; a number of Christian Jews with strange

oriental customs and traditions, half- familiar only with the language

and civilisation of their adopted town; a few men, possibly, of higher

social position and greater education, but the majority only able to

communicate with each other by a lingua franca of bad Greek, which was

the native tongue only of a small minority. One can see what a babel of

confusion might easily arise amongst such a community, especially when

we remember that many had but an imperfect knowledge of Christ and His

teaching, and very few churches possessed all the works which we have in

our New Testament.

Moreover, a great change had come from the days of Paul's letter to the

Corinthians. That little church was then still living in the days when

the Christians as such were tolerated by the law. Gallio's decision had

removed the church at Corinth from any need to observe secrecy.

But after two generations the position had wholly changed, and to be a

Christian was a penal offence which, if adhered to, was punishable with

death. This necessarily involved a need for greater precaution, for more

order and wise management in the assembling of the Church. [p.49] And in

the early days when the churches lived in constant expectation of the

immediate end of the age and the outward coming of Christ to set up His

Kingdom, they would naturally lay little stress on church order; the

struggle of the church militant was but to last a brief time more; there

was no need for much organisation, or for any other connection between

one church and another than the friendly ties of love. One church might

have its prophets and teachers, another only presbyters or a bishop and

deacons; others of larger size and needs might have ail these officers

together with deaconesses and widows. But no one was anxious about such

differences. Travelling apostles and evangelists formed living links of

love betwixt church and church, and occasionally, individuals and

churches sent letters to each other. No other bond was needed.

But when it became slowly more evident that the Church might yet have to

continue long years at work in the world before the consummation came,

and when it seemed to the leaders that they had to fight a life and

death struggle, on the one hand against the vast force of the world

empire of Rome, whenever a persecuting edict might be enforced, and on

the other against a growing crowd of strange errors, which seemed to

them to be sent by the Devil to delude the hearts of the faithful, and

draw them away from the Gospel of Christ; can we wonder that they did

their best to draw the scattered communities of [p.50] Christians to a

sense of unity under a like organization, adapted for a strenuous fight

to preserve the good order of the Church from being shattered by

persecutions from without or broken up and corrupted by false or

mistaken brethren from within. And often, too, especially under the fire

of persecution, something of the true prophetic spirit showed itself in

the bishops themselves, as they admonished their fellow believers to be

faithful even unto death, and beheld, amidst the shadow of death,

visions of the deep things of God. Very true is this of Ignatius, whose

letters breathe forth again and again the fiery faith and zeal of the

true prophet, with flashes now and then of great and Christlike thoughts

that still shine like gems amid the dust of pious exposition and

mistaken exegesis that even first century Christian literature shares as

a characteristic with our own. In the letter which he wrote to his

friend Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna, one sees how intensely he felt the

importance of a bishop's work for the life of the Church, how great the

need was for gifted and holy men to fill such posts and what true help

such men were able to give to the struggling communities for whom they

lived and whom they served. Ignatius, for all his exaltation of the

bishop's office, is full of humanity, feeling his own unworthiness and

regarding himself as the servant of his church. As we hear him urging

upon Polycarp to do his best to save all his flock, to put up with them

all, even as Christ bears with [p.51] him, to love not just the good

disciples but rather more especially the worse, and to conquer them by

gentleness, to stand like a rock against false teaching, to care for the

widows and not to overlook the slaves, we feel indeed how high the task

of such a bishop was; and with both Ignatius and Polycarp, as with

countless of their less illustrious fellows, it was a task crowned by

martyrdom.

But if history shows us how valuable was the work done under the system

of the catholic hierarchy to preserve a living Christianity across the

centuries, it also bears witness to the way in which in succeeding ages

the prophetic spirit re-asserted itself. A long series of heresies from

that of the Montanists in the second century to that of the Fraticelli

in the fourteenth, or of the Lollards and Hussites in the fifteenth, up

to the days of the Reformation and the Anabaptist prophets of Munster,

give us evidence of the way in which that spirit meets the profound need

of humanity and proves the outcome of deep stirring of soul. But inside

the Church itself we shall find again that the spirit of prophecy cannot

be banished, just because there always was true life there. Yet the

prophetic gift does not go along the orthodox channels of the hierarchy,

but is continually bursting out in new and unexpected quarters, so that

often the authorities of the Church are in a strait whether they are

dealing with a saint or a heretic. To those outside the Church, the

canon sometimes seems strange enough which [p.52] rules into one class

St. Theresa, into the other Madame Guyon, which, after burning

Savonarola was almost on the point of canonising him, which deposed and

exiled John of Parma, and then beatified him. The prophetic spirit

surely often found its outlet in the early ages amongst the monks of the

desert, witness for instance such a saint as Telemachus, who brought to

an end the gladiatorial shows at Rome; and in later times first in the

Benedictine and the subsequent monastic orders, and then, very notably,

in the Franciscan brotherhood, it found freer outlets than the church of

the day could provide, while the lives of countless saints bear witness

to some touches at least of the spirit of the prophet re-asserting

itself in spite of the trammels of the organization of the church. If

the gift of prophecy were to be connected with a divinely ordered

hierarchy we might naturally look for it most of all in the popes. Yet

in so many centuries comparatively few popes have been canonised as

saints, and few amongst these are conspicuous as showing forth this gift

in the way in which we see it in such a simple woman as Catherine of

Siena, or in plain men like Giles of Perugia.

In our own day, a devout catholic like Fogazzaro has pictured for us the

way in which a true prophet may arise within the bosom of the Church,

only to meet with obstacles from the authorities, and finally with

persecution ending almost in martyrdom. Yet that book, which, in spite

of [p.53] Papal prohibition, has found such warm support and awakened

such eager interest in Catholic Italy, bears witness to the profound

longing (which many in England surely share) that there is within the

orthodox Church for a deep spiritual ministry, which the recognised

authorities have not always supplied, for a revelation of new truth to

meet the needs of our day, for a fresh unfolding of the meaning of the

gospel of Christ, which shall appeal once more with apostolic power to

the hearts of men.

Two centuries ago the early Quakers felt that they had known such an

experience and tried to hand it on to others. Need we wonder if it

should appear that the Society of Friends to-day has inherited their

traditions but not their spirit? For, indeed, the prophetic spirit can

never be inherited, or passed on from man to man by any mechanical

arrangement. It must come anew from generation to generation, often

after the hardest travail of soul, through fresh strivings, as the

result of other needs; but we can, at least, see that our ordering,

whether of the Church's life or our own, is such as not to hinder its

coming but to prepare us for it.

And not the least of such a heritage has been a form of worship and a

view of life which may still give not only to a little community but to

a wider world a school of the prophets.

When we see the weak side of quietism, and mistakes of an earlier day of

mystics (as now we [p.54] are so apt to do), let us not forget that,

amidst the quietist Quakerism of the eighteenth century, there grew up

and flowered one of the most beautiful products not only of Quaker but

of Christian training; to many of us to-day, John Woolman speaks as do

few others with the power of a true prophet. Yet too often in the past

the Society of Friends has been content with a succession of minor

prophets, whose message was only to a little congregation. Without was a

multitude who had no priests or shepherds, and nations needing a guide.

To-day, if we cannot make teachers like Woolman, at least we can prepare

the way for their coming.

Prophecy is born of prayer, supported by it, not the prayer of words,

but that attitude of soul, of will, of which the most beautiful of our

collects are the momentary reflections. In this spirit then, feeling our

need and our fellows', let us long for more light to come into our

lives. Let us remember that we have not just to sit down contentedly in

the dark and wait for God's light.

If we try to listen to the voice of the prophet teachers of the past

whose message still comes home to us, and to picture the thoughts of

some disciple of theirs to-day, might we not frame them thus?

"If we cannot scatter the clouds, we can at least clean our windows and

open our doors. Every faculty of our nature is God's gift and to be used

in His service, and so we are not to think of prophecy [p.55] as coming

with the atrophy of the intellect; with every power of our minds we are

called to serve God and seek truth, which is His revelation. To pray, '

Thy will be done ' should be, as Fogazzaro has told us, no attitude of

passive submission, but a call to our whole nature to strive to the

utmost for the cause of God.

"Then we must remember that the more truly we are at one with Christ,

the more we shall feel ourselves fundamentally united with all our

fellows. We shall feel their wrongs and sins as ours, and their needs

too, and as we come to feel this, we shall realise more and more that in

every act and word and thought we are not our own.

"Every evil desire overcome is a victory for our brothers, and not

merely for ourselves. Our lives are intertwined one with another, and

constantly, unseen and unknown to ourselves and each other, we influence

one another for evil or for good. The prophet is nothing else than a

true priest, not to one or two, but to a multitude.

"We are all called to be priests, and, if God calls us to be prophets,

in learning to be truly priests, we shall unconsciously be learning too

in the prophets' school.

"The priest must have a two-fold vision, of the truth above him and of

the brother beside him who has need of the truth. The more he can see of

either, the more he can be brought into communication with his fellows,

and with the truth, the more priestly will his service be. [p.56] "Let

us be faithful in word and deed to the highest that we know, and higher

things shall be revealed unto us. Let us be patient with the worst and

those who naturally repel us. Far more repulsive has been the evil in

our own thoughts in the eyes of the holy angels. Let us not be uplifted

because others have been helped through us; Truth is not ours, but God's.

"Let us not be discouraged if our work seem fruitless; never despair of

the truth. Have faith in the truth that has been revealed to you, for

some day others too shall see it.

"Have faith in the Truth that is yet unknown; others perhaps have

already caught some glimpse of it.

"Blessed is the man in whose heart there is built an altar with the

inscription written: ' To the unknown Truth '; of such men are prophets

made.

"Truth is beautiful in the mouth of a friend, but most divine when it is

seen in the heart of an opponent. The devil had delight to seek for

faults in Job; let us seek rather to see, with Christ, the good in the

heart of the publican."

Those of us who are striving after this ideal should be the greatest of

sacerdotalists; our faith and worship are built up upon belief in the

essential priesthood of every human soul. Let us not forget then, that

if all men have some vision of God, all may teach us something of Him.

And since heavenly truth comes to no man naked, but clad in changing

robes, let us strive in our [p.57] search for truth, alike in speaking

and in listening, to remember that the garment of words changes and may

mean one thing to us and another to our fellows. Let us get beneath

words and forms to the life-giving spirit, and as we are to be the

greatest sacerdotalists let us be the most thorough- going of ritualists

too, to whom there are symbols and lessons of the Divine Life, not only

in the beautiful liturgies of the altar, but in all the mysteries of

nature and the sacraments with which life is full.

For surely there are not merely two or seven sacraments, but seventy

times seven, for him whose heart seeks ever fellowship with his brothers

and with the Father above him, who would be loved in them, and served by

their service. The whole world is God's and full of His light; our lives

are His and they are our fellows. And since in every heart of man is

some well through which the God-given waters of life may flow, we may go

forth in faith to our work; as we serve our neighbours and search for

truth, in the spirit of followers of Christ Jesus, seeking that our own

wells may be made wider and deeper, and that their springs may be shared

more fully by others, God will make priests of all of us, and, if He

will it, prophets too. [p.58]

A Wayfarer's Faith: Aspects of the common basis of religious life · 第 3 / 10 章