HE came, they tell us, to make a revelation, and what did he reveal?
"Love thy neighbor as thyself"? That was in the Old Testament. "Love
God with all thy heart"? That was in the Old Testament. "Return good for
evil"? That was said by Buddha, seven hundred years before Christ was
born. "Do unto others as ye would that they should do unto you"? That
was the doctrine of Lao-tsze. Did he come to give a rule of action?
Zoroaster had done this long before: "Whenever thou art in doubt as to
whether an action is good or bad, abstain from it." Did he come to tell
us of another world? The immortality of the soul had been taught by the
Hindoos, Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans hundreds of years before he was
born. What argument did he make in favor of immortality? What facts
did he furnish? What star of hope did he put above the darkness of
this world? Did he come simply to tell us that we should not revenge
ourselves upon our enemies? Long before, Socrates had said: "One who
is injured ought not to return the injury, for on no account can it be
right to do an injustice; and it is not right to return an injury, or to
do evil to any man, however much we have suffered from him." And Cicero
had said: "Let us not listen to those who think we ought to be angry
with our enemies, and who believe this to be great and manly. Nothing
is so praiseworthy, nothing so clearly shows a great and noble soul, as
clemency and readiness to forgive." Is there anything in the literature
of the world more nearly perfect than this thought?
Was it from Christ the world learned the first lesson of forbearance,
when centuries and centuries before, Chrishna had said, "If a man strike
thee, and in striking drop his staff, pick it up and hand it to him
again?" Is it possible that the son of God threatened to say to a vast
majority, of his children, "Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting
fire prepared for the devil and his angels," while the Buddhist was
great and tender enough to say:
"Never will I seek nor receive private individual salvation; never
enter into final peace alone; but forever and everywhere will I live
and strive for the universal redemption of every creature throughout
all worlds. Never will I leave this world of sin and sorrow and struggle
until all are delivered. Until then, I will remain and suffer where I
am?"
Is there anything in the New Testament as beautiful as this, from a
Sufi?--"Better one moment of silent contemplation and inward love than
seventy thousand years of outward worship."
Is there anything comparable to this?--"Whoever carelessly treads on
a worm that crawls on the earth, that heartless one is darkly alienate
from God."
Is there anything in the New Testament more beautiful than the story of
the Sufi?
For seven years a Sufi practised every virtue, and then he mounted the
three steps that lead to the doors of Paradise. He knocked and a voice
said: "Who is there?" The Sufi replied: "Thy servant, O God." But the
doors remained closed.
Yet seven other years the Sufi engaged in every good work. He comforted
the sorrowing and divided his substance with the poor. Again he mounted
the three steps, again knocked at the doors of Paradise, and again
the voice asked: "Who is there?" and the Sufi replied: "Thy slave, O
God."--But the doors remained closed.
Yet seven other years the Sufi spent in works of charity, in visiting
the imprisoned and the sick. Again he mounted the steps, again knocked
at the celestial doors. Again he heard the question: "Who is there?" and
he replied: "Thyself, O God."--The gates wide open flew.
Is it possible that St. Paul was inspired of God, when he said: "Let the
women learn in silence, with all subjection."--"Neither was the man
created for the woman, but the woman for the man?"
And is it possible that Epictetus, without the slightest aid from
heaven, gave to the world this gem of love:
"What is more delightful than to be so dear to your wife, as to be on
that account dearer to yourself?"