CHAPTER V.

CHANGES IN THE AUTHOR'S VIEWS.

My studies led me to make considerable changes both in my views and way

of speaking.

1. With regard to my views. I found that some of the doctrines which I

had been taught as Christian doctrines, were not so much as hinted at by

Christ and His Apostles,--that some doctrines which Christ and His

Apostles taught with great plainness, I never had been taught at all;

and that some of the doctrines of Christ and His Apostles which I had

been taught, I had been taught in very different forms from those in

which they were presented in the New Testament.

I found that some doctrines which I had been taught as doctrines of the

greatest importance, were never so much as alluded to in the whole

Bible, while in numbers of places quite contrary doctrines were taught.

While unscriptural doctrines were inculcated as fundamental doctrines of

the Gospel, some of the fundamental doctrines themselves were not only

neglected, but denounced as grievous heresies.

Many passages of Scripture which were perfectly plain when left to speak

out their own meaning, had been used so badly by theologians, that they

had become unintelligible to ordinary Christians. While professing to

give the passages needful explanations, they had heaped upon them

impenetrable obscurations. Words that, as they came from Jesus, were

spirit and life, had been so grievously perverted, that they had become

meaningless or mischievous.

I met with passages which had been used as proofs of doctrines to which

they had not the slightest reference. There were the words of Jeremiah

for instance: "Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his

spots?" The prophet is speaking of the impossibility of men, after long

continuance in wilful sin, breaking off their bad habits; as the closing

words of the passage show; "Then may ye who are _accustomed_ to do evil,

do well." But the theologians took the words and used them in support of

the doctrine that no man in his unconverted state can do anything

towards his salvation,--a doctrine which is neither Scriptural nor

rational. Again; Isaiah, referring to the calamitous condition of the

Jewish nation, in consequence of God's judgments, says: "The whole head

is sick, and the whole heart faint. From the sole of the foot to the

head, there is no soundness; but wounds, and bruises, and putrefying

sores," &c. This, which the prophet said with regard to the _state_ of

the _Jews_, the theologians applied to the _character_, not of the Jews

only, but of _all mankind_. What Paul said about the law of Moses, and

the works or deeds required by that law, the theologians applied to the

law of Christ. And so with regard to multitudes of passages. I was

constantly coming across passages that the theologians systematically

perverted, taking them from their proper use and meaning, and forcing

them into the support of notions to which they had not the slightest

reference. The liberties taken with the words of Paul went far towards

turning the writings of that great advocate and example of holiness into

lessons of licentiousness.

It was plain that, on many points, theology was one thing, and

Christianity another; and that many and important changes would have to

be made in the creeds and confessions of Christendom, before they could

be brought into harmony with the truth as taught by Jesus.

Some theological doctrines I found rested on the authority of Milton's

Paradise Lost, or of the Church of England Prayer Book, or on the

authority of earlier works from which Milton or the authors of the

Prayer Book had borrowed.

One day, about forty-two years ago, I was travelling homewards from

Shields to Blyth on foot, when a man with a cart overtook me, and asked

me to get in and ride. I did so. The man and I were soon busy discussing

theology. We talked on saving faith, imputed righteousness,

predestination, divine foreknowledge, election, reprobation and

redemption. We differed on every point, and the man got very warm. He

then spake of a covenant made between God the Father and His Son before

the creation of the world, giving me all the particulars of the

engagement. I told him I had read something about a covenant of that

kind in Milton's Paradise Lost, but that I had never met with anything

on the subject in the sacred writings, and added that I doubted whether

any such transaction ever took place. He got more excited than ever, and

expressed some uneasiness at having such a blasphemous heretic in his

cart. Just then one of the cart wheels came off and down went the

vehicle on one side, spilling me and the driver on the road. I was

quickly on my feet, but he lay on his back sprawling in the sand.

"That's a judgment," said he, "on your blasphemies." "You seem to have

got the worst part of the judgment," said I. I asked him if I could help

him. He seemed to hint that I ought to pay for the damage done to the

cart; but as that was not in the covenant, I did not take the hint; and

as he was in a somewhat unamiable temper, I left him to himself, and

trudged on homeward. The carter and I had no more discussions on

covenants. But many a bit of theology has been built on Milton since

then.

Other doctrines I found to be new versions of old pagan imaginations.

Some seemed to have originated in the selfish and sensual principles of

human nature, which make men wishful to avoid self-denial and a life of

beneficence, and to find some easy way to heaven.

In some cases Protestants had run into extremes through a hatred and

horror of Popery, while in others orthodox teachers had run into

extremes through hatred and dread of Socinianism.

In other cases doctrines seemed to have been rested on no authority but

the facts, or supposed facts, of individual experiences.

Some great doctrines were rendered incomprehensible, repulsive, or

incredible, in consequence of not being accompanied with other

doctrines, which were necessary to explain their use, and make manifest

their reasonableness and worth. There was no lack of attention among

theologians to the doctrine that Christ was an incarnation of the Deity;

but little or no regard was paid to the kindred doctrine, its necessary

accompaniment, that Jesus was the 'image,' the 'likeness,' of God, the

revelation or manifestation of His character. Yet this is essential to a

right understanding and a due appreciation of the other. The revelation

or manifestation of God, and especially of His eternal and infinite

love, was the great design and end of the incarnation. Taken apart from

this doctrine the incarnation becomes a dry hard fact, without use or

meaning. It is when viewed as a means of revealing God,--of making

manifest His infinite goodness, and by that means melting and purifying

man's heart, and transforming his character, that it is seen to be full

of interest and power and glory.

The doctrine that Jesus is God's image, God manifest in the flesh, is

the one great doctrine of Christianity,--the sum, the substance of the

whole Gospel,--the Gospel itself,--the power of God to the salvation of

every one that truly believes and contemplates it. It is a world of

truth in one,--a whole encyclopaedia of divine philosophy; the perfection

of all wisdom and of all power; the one great revelation needful to the

salvation of the world.

Yet I never met with this doctrine for the first thirty years of my

life, in any theological work. I have no recollection that I ever heard

it mentioned in a sermon. I certainly never heard it explained and

applied to the great purposes for which it was designed. I never was

told that to know the character of God, I had only to look at the

character of Christ,--that what Christ was during His life on earth in

the circle in which He moved, that God was throughout all worlds, and

towards all the creatures of His hands,--that the love which led Jesus

to suffer and die for the salvation of the world, lived and moved in the

heart of the infinite, invisible God, prompting Him to plan and labor

throughout immensity to promote the happiness of the whole creation. In

short, the Gospel was never preached to me in its simplicity and beauty,

in its glory and power, nor was it ever properly explained to me in

catechism, creed, confession, or body of divinity.

And generally, no sufficient stress was ever laid by theologians on the

value and necessity of personal virtue,--of religious and moral

goodness. It was believed that Christians would _have_ goodness of some

kind, in some degree,--that they would be, on the whole, in some

respects, better than the ungodly world; and there was a feeling that

they _ought_ to be so: but it was rare to meet with a preacher or a

book that put the subject in any thing like a Scriptural Christian

light. No one contended that goodness was everything, that it was the

one great all-glorious object for which the world was made, for which

the universe was upheld, for which prophets spake, for which the

Scriptures were written, for which God became incarnate, for which Jesus

lived and labored, for which He suffered and died, for which He founded

His Church and appointed and endowed its ministers, for which Providence

planned, and for which all things continued to exist. No one taught that

goodness was the only thing for which God cared, the only thing which He

esteemed and loved, and the only thing He would reward and bless. Books

and preachers did not use to tell us, that faith, and knowledge, and

feeling,--that repentance, conversion, and sanctification,--that reading

the Scriptures, and hearing sermons, and singing hymns, and offering

prayers,--that church fellowship, and religious ordinances, were all

nothing except so far as they tended to make people good, and then to

make them better, and at last to perfect them in all divine and human

excellence. No one taught us that goodness was beauty, that goodness was

greatness, that goodness was glory, that goodness was happiness, that

goodness was heaven. The truth was never pressed on us that the want of

goodness was deformity, dishonor and shame,--that it was pain, and

wretchedness, and torment, and death,--that goodness in full measure

would make earth heaven--that its decline and disappearance would make

earth hell. Yet a careful and long-continued perusal of the Scriptures

left the impression on my mind, that this was really the case. When I

compared the eternal talk about all our goodness being of no account in

the sight of God,--of all our righteousness being but as filthy

rags,--with the teachings of Scripture, I felt as if theologians were

anti-christ, and their theology the gospel of the wicked one. I have no

wish to do injustice to theology, or to theologians either; but the more

I knew of them, the less I thought of them. And even when the Christian

and theologian got blended, as they did, to some extent, in such men as

Baxter and Wesley, I pitied the theologian while I esteemed and loved

the Christian. Theological works are poor contemptible things. It would

have been no great loss to the world if nineteen-twentieths of them had

been burnt in the Chicago fire.

I was often grievously harassed with prevailing theories of Scripture

inspiration. All those theories seemed inconsistent with

facts,--inconsistent with what every man of any information, knew to be

true in reference to the Scriptures. They all lay open to infidel

objections,--unanswerable objections. They made it impossible for a man

to argue with the abler and better informed class of infidel assailants

with the success and satisfaction desirable. The theories did not

_admit_ of a successful defence. And when the theories were refuted, the

Bible and Christianity suffered. On searching the Scriptures I found

they gave no countenance to those theories. They taught the _doctrine_

of Scripture inspiration, but not the prevailing _theories_ of the

doctrine. The doctrine I could defend with ease: the defence of the

theories was impossible. I accordingly laid aside the theories.

Again; I heard and read continually about the influence and work of the

Holy Spirit; but I seldom heard and read of the influence of the truth.

Yet in Scripture we read as much and as often of the latter as of the

former.

I had been led, in some way, to believe that Adam was the federal head

of all mankind,--that God made a covenant with him that was binding on

all his posterity,--that the destinies of the whole human race were

placed in his hands,--that it was so arranged that if Adam did right,

his posterity were to be born in a state of perfection and blessedness,

incapable of sin and misery,--that if he did wrong they were to be born

depraved and miserable, under the curse of God, and liable to death and

damnation--that as Adam did do wrong, we all came into the world so

depraved that we were incapable of thinking a good thought, of feeling a

good desire, of speaking a right word, or of doing a right thing,--that

Jesus came into the world to redeem us from the guilt of Adam's sin, and

from the punishment due to us for that sin, and to put us on such a

footing with regard to God as to render possible our salvation. I had

been led to believe a hundred other things connected with these about

the plan of redemption, the way of salvation, imputed righteousness,

saving faith, &c. When I came to look for those doctrines in the Bible,

I could not find one of them from the beginning of the Book to the end.

I was in consequence led to regard them as the imaginations of

unthinking, trifling, or dreamy theologians.

There are few doctrines more generally received than the doctrine of

types,--the doctrine that persons and things under the older

dispensations were intended to direct the minds of those who saw them to

things corresponding to them under the Christian dispensation. In

McEwen's work on Types, which appears to have had an immense

circulation, is this sentence,--'That the grand doctrines of

Christianity concerning the mediation of Christ, &c., were typically

_manifested_ to the church by a variety of ceremonies, persons and

events, under the Old Testament dispensation, is past doubt.' And it is

very plainly intimated, that those who affect to call this notion in

question, and yet pretend to be friends of a divine revelation, are

hypocrites. It is added: 'The sacrifices were ordained to pre-figure

Christ,--and were professions of faith in His propitiation.'

There are but few preachers or religious books which do not go on the

supposition that this doctrine is taught in Scripture. And you may hear

sermon after sermon from some preachers, the chief object of which is to

point out correspondences between the paschal lamb, the scape-goat, and

other sacrifices under the Law, and Jesus and the sacrifice which He

offered. Some preachers and religious writers take almost all things

under the law to be types of Christ, or types of things pertaining to

Him. They make Noah, and Isaac, and Melchisedec, and Joseph, and Moses,

and Joshua, and David, and Samson, and Solomon, and the brazen serpent,

and the rod of Aaron, and the manna, types of Christ, and almost all the

sacrifices they make types of His great sacrifice of Himself.

I could see no warrant for this doctrine. I could find no proof that any

of the sacrifices under the law were intended to direct the minds of

those who offered them to the sacrifice of Jesus. There is nothing in

the law, and there is nothing in the prophets to that effect. There is

no passage of Scripture which says that any one ever _did_ look through

the old Levitical sacrifices to Christ. There is no passage which says

it was men's duty to do so; none which commends any one for doing so,

or which blames any one for not doing so. The prophets often rebuke the

Israelites for their injustice, intemperance, deceit and cruelty, but

they never rebuke them for not looking through their sacrifices to the

sacrifice of Jesus. They often exhort people to 'cease to do evil and

learn to do well;' but they never urge them to regard their sacrifices

as types or manifestations of the sacrifice of Christ. Christ nowhere

teaches the ordinary doctrine of types. He never refers to anything as a

type of His sacrifice, or of anything else connected with His work. Nor

do the Apostles say anything to countenance the prevailing notion. For

anything the Scriptures say to the contrary, the whole doctrine of

types, as set forth in such books as that of McEwen, is a human fiction.

Indeed, I see no hint in Scripture that any one had the least idea that

the Messiah would offer Himself a sacrifice for sin till after the

sacrifice had taken place. Isaiah and Daniel spake on the subject, and

'They inquired and searched diligently,' says Peter, 'what, or what

manner of time the spirit of Christ which was in them did signify, when

it testified beforehand the sufferings of Christ and the glory that

should follow; unto whom it was revealed, that not unto themselves, but

unto us they did minister the things, which are now reported unto you by

them that have preached the gospel unto you with the Holy Ghost sent

down from Heaven.' And we know that Christ's own disciples did not

believe that Christ would die at all. So far were they from having any

thought of such a thing, that when Jesus told them, in the plainest

words imaginable, they did not understand Him. The fact had to reveal

itself. And even now the nature and end of Christ's sacrifice are but

very imperfectly understood.

And if the doctrine of types falls to the ground, some other doctrines,

which rest upon it, must go down. Certain notions about the faith of the

ancient saints must give way, and the views of saving faith presented in

the eleventh chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews must take their

place.

Great numbers of religious teachers and writers attribute to Adam and

Eve, in their first state, an amount of knowledge, and a perfection of

righteousness, which the Scriptures nowhere ascribe to them, and which,

if they had possessed them, would have rendered it impossible, one

would think, that they should have yielded so readily to temptation.

They represent the first sin as having effects which are never

attributed to it in the Bible.

They give an unwarrantable meaning to the word death contained in the

first threatening.

They attribute to man's first sin inconveniences of the seasons, and of

the different climates of the globe, as well as a thousand things on the

earth's surface, and in the dispositions and habits of the lower

animals, which are not attributed _to_ that cause by the sacred writers.

They spend a vast amount of time and words in trying to prove that the

reason why Abel's sacrifice was more excellent than that of Cain, and

was accepted by God, was that Abel offered animals, and had an eye to

the sacrifice of Christ, while Cain offered only the fruits of the

ground, that did not typify or symbolize that sacrifice; a notion for

which there is no authority in Scripture. The story in Genesis seems to

intimate that the sacrifice of Cain was rejected because he was a

bad-living man, and that the sacrifice of Abel was accepted because he

was a good-living man. Hence the words of God in His address to Cain,

'Why art thou wroth? And why is thy countenance fallen? If thou doest

well shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest not well, sin lieth

at the door.' And hence too the statement of John, that Cain slew his

brother because his own works were evil and his brother's righteous. And

the faith attributed to Abel, as well as to Enoch, Moses and others, in

the Epistle to the Hebrews, is not faith in the sacrifice of Christ, but

simply a belief in God; a belief that 'He _is_, and that He is a

rewarder of them that diligently seek Him, or lovingly serve Him.'

There were many definitions and descriptions of saving faith common in

religious books for which I could find no authority in Scripture.

I also met with a multitude of cold hard things about the Trinity and

the Atonement in works on Theology which I never was unhappy enough to

find in the Bible. All seemed pleasant and natural and of heavenly

tendency there. I read books which seemed to require me to believe in

three Gods; but I met with nothing of the kind in Scripture. I heard

prayers and forms of benediction worded in a way altogether different

from the prayers and benedictions found in the Bible. The Scriptures

allowed me to think of God, in the first place, as one, as I myself was

one. They did not tell me He was three in the same way as I was three;

but they left the doctrine of the Trinity in such a state or shape that

I found no more difficulty in receiving it, than I found in receiving

the fact of a Trinity in myself. I left accordingly the hard repulsive

representations of the theologians to their fate, and accepted and

contented myself with the living, rational and practical representations

of Scripture in their stead.

The work of Christ was generally represented by theologians as exerting

its influence directly on God. His death was generally spoken of as a

satisfaction to divine justice, or as an expedient for harmonizing the

divine attributes, or maintaining the principles of the divine

government. God was represented as being placed in a difficulty,--as

being unable to gratify His love in forgiving men on their repenting and

turning to Him, without violating His justice and His truth, and putting

in peril the principles of His government. There were several other

theological theories of the design or object of the death of Christ. All

these theories may be true in a certain sense. They may, perhaps, be so

explained as to make them harmonize with the teachings of Scripture. But

I found none of them in the Bible. I found multitudes of passages which

represented the death and sufferings of Christ as intended to influence

men, but not one that taught any of the theological theories,--hardly

one that even seemed to do so. Here again I took the Scripture

representations, and allowed the theological ones to slide.

There was a hymn which said of Christ, 'Our debt He has paid, and our

work He has done.' I could find nothing in Scripture about the Saviour

paying our debt, or doing our work. I could find passages which taught

that our debts or sins might be _forgiven_, on our return to God. So far

were the Scriptures from teaching that Christ had done our work, that

they represented Him as coming into the world to fit us to do it

ourselves,--as redeeming us and creating us anew that we might be

zealous of good works.

I could find nothing in Scripture to countenance the common notion about

the efficacy of the death-bed repentances of old, wilful, hardened

sinners. The Bible left on my mind the impression that 'whatsoever a man

soweth, that shall he also reap.'

Some preachers and writers spoke as if God the Father was sterner, less

tender and loving, than the Son. But as we have seen, the Bible taught

that Jesus was God's image, His likeness, the incarnation and revelation

of God,--God manifest in the flesh.

I read in books, and heard it said in sermons, that God did not answer

men's prayers, or grant them any blessing, or receive them at last to

heaven, on account of anything good in themselves, or of anything good

they did. Yet on looking through the Scriptures I found such passages as

these: 'Beloved, if our heart condemn us not, _then_ have we confidence

toward God. And whatsoever we ask, we receive of Him, because we keep

His commandments, and do those things that are pleasing in His sight.'

In the parable of the talents I found God represented as saying, 'Well

done, thou good and faithful servant, because thou hast been faithful in

a very little, have thou authority over ten cities.' And in the Prophet

I read, 'Again, when the wicked man turneth away from his wickedness

that he hath committed, and doeth that which is lawful and right, he

shall save his soul alive. Because he considereth and turneth away from

all his transgressions that he hath committed, he shall surely live, he

shall not die.' I found the whole Bible going on the same principle. God

loves what is good for its own sake. It would be strange if He did not.

And how any one can think He is honoring God by teaching the contrary we

cannot understand.

Modern Skepticism: A Journey Through the Land of Doubt and Back Again A Life Story · 第 5 / 20 章