CHRIST THE JUDGE OF THE WORLD.
§ 1. The Coming of Christ is not wholly future, not wholly outward, not
local, nor material.
It is a curious fact that, in direct contradiction to Christ’s own
explanations concerning his coming, this should frequently be considered
by the Orthodox, (1.) as wholly future; (2.) as wholly outward; (3.) as
local; (4.) as bodily and material.
It cannot be wholly future, for if it were, Jesus was mistaken in saying
of the signs of his coming, “This generation shall not pass away until all
these things be fulfilled.” (Mark 13:30.)
Nor can it be wholly outward, for if it were, Jesus was mistaken when he
declared of the signs of his coming, “The kingdom of God cometh not with
observation” (Luke 17:20); “The kingdom of God is within you ” (Luke
17:21); “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:36). See also Mark
4:26,27, and Matt. 13:33, where his kingdom is compared with seed
sprouting and leaven working secretly.
Nor is Christ’s coming local, that is, in a certain place, for if it were,
Jesus was mistaken in telling his disciples not to believe those who said,
“Lo, here!” or “Lo, there!” not to go into the desert when men say,
“Behold, he is there,” and not to believe those who declare that he is
hidden somewhere in the city, for that the coming of the Son of man should
be like that of the lightning, which shines all round the sky, and seems
to be everywhere at once. (Matt. 24:26.)
And if not local, neither can it be a bodily coming; for all bodily coming
must be in some one place. Since, therefore, Jesus distinctly denies that
his coming is to be “here” or “there,”—that is, local,—it must be a
spiritual coming, a coming in spirit and in power. All the material images
connected with it—the clouds, the trumpet, &c.—are to be considered
symbolical. The “clouds of heaven” may symbolize spiritual movements and
influences; the “trumpet,” the awakening power of new truth.(40)
§ 2. No Second Coming of Christ is mentioned in Scripture.
It is also a remarkable fact that only one coming of Christ is mentioned
in the New Testament. Orthodoxy speaks continually of Christ’s _second_
coming, but without any warrant. It assumes that the manifestation of
Jesus in the flesh was his first coming as the Christ, and that
consequently the predictions (in Matt. ch. 24, and the parallels) _must_
refer to a second coming. Hence the phrase “second coming” has been
introduced, and naturalized in theology. But, in truth, the life of Jesus
on earth was not regarded as his coming as the Messiah.(41) What the
disciples expected was his manifestation or investiture as the Messiah,
which evidently had not taken place at the time of their conversation. And
this was to be, not “at the end of the world,” but _at the end of the
age_. They, like other Jews, divided time into two periods, “the present
age,” or times previous to the Messiah, and “the coming age,” or times of
the Messiah’s reign. When, therefore, Jesus was with them, only teaching
and healing, they did not at all consider him _to have come_ as the
Messiah. But when he spoke of the destruction of the Temple, as _that_
indicated the end of the existing economy, they understood it to be
synchronous with his coming as the Christ. So they said, “What shall be
the sign of thy COMING, and of the END OF THE AGE?” And so through the
Epistles, when the “coming of Christ” is spoken of, is meant his
manifestation in the world as the Messiah. This was a single event, to
take place once, not to be repeated. Such a thing as “Christ’s _second_
coming” is unknown to the Scriptures.(42)
§ 3. Were the Apostles mistaken in expecting a speedy Coming of Christ?
It is often said that the apostles themselves were mistaken in expecting a
speedy coming of Christ. No doubt they did expect his speedy coming, and
with reason; for he himself had told them that the existing generation
should not pass away till all those things were fulfilled. Therefore they
were justified in looking for a near coming of Jesus as the Christ. We
admit that they expected his speedy coming; but we think they were not
mistaken, for he did come. He came, though not perhaps in the manner they
anticipated. Possibly they interpreted too literally what he said
concerning his coming.
For though Christ spoke so much in symbols and parables, literal people
took him literally. And so they do still. When he said that except men ate
his flesh and drank his blood they could not be his, the literalists said,
“_How_ can this man give us his flesh to eat?” And so many persons still
think that somehow Christ’s actual body is to be eaten in the Lord’s
supper. So, when he said that the Son of man should be seen “coming in the
clouds of heaven with power and great glory, and send his angels with the
sound of a trumpet, and gather his elect from the four winds,” they took
it literally. His apostles, even, may have supposed that he was to be seen
up in the air in physical form,(43) and that a material trumpet was to be
blown. But all this was the flesh, the garb of his thought. The spirit of
his thought only is of value; the flesh profits nothing. The apostles were
wrong in supposing—if they did suppose it—that Christ was to come in their
day in the air, in an outward physical fashion, with an outward noise,
making a great demonstration to the senses of sight and hearing. Christ
never came so, and he never will come so. The only coming of Christ
possible is spiritual coming, for Christ is spirit. He did come,
therefore, in the days of the apostles, in the great access of faith and
power in their own souls, and in the souls of those whom they converted.
He came in power and great glory, when his truth came to human minds, and
his love to human hearts. He sent his angels then, and gathered his elect
from the four quarters of the heavens. When Paul was converted, Christ
came to him; when the negro chamberlain of the Queen of Ethiopia was
converted, Christ came to him; when the people of Ephesus and Corinth,
Philippi and Rome, were converted, Christ came to them. The trumpet
sounded, but it was in their souls that it sounded; the angels summoned
the elect, but these angels were the convictions sent into their reason,
and the longings awakened in their hearts.
Materialists and Literalists are always the same. The apostles soon rose
out of their literalism, and soon spoke of Christ as being revealed
_within_ them, not outside of them; dwelling, not in the air, but in their
hearts. But literalists, down to this day, have always imagined the coming
of Christ to be to the senses, rather than to the soul. They do not see
that a great noise in the air is not so glorious a thing as a voice heard
in the depths of the heart, and a great outward conflagration somehow
seems to them more imposing than the burning up of falsehood and sin in
the world. So we are always hearing people predict that Christ is to come
in 1846, or 1856, or 1866, meaning thereby that they expect some great
outward event then, visible to eyes and ears. “Fools, and slow of heart,”
not to see that the only possible coming of Him who is spirit and love is
a coming in the soul, and that he has come, and is coming, and is to come
more and more abundantly, from day to day. So they read about the heavens
and earth being burned up, and of a new heavens and earth; and they
imagine that the sky is somehow to be burned with material fire, and the
surface of the earth to sink into the flaming abyss beneath us. But if
this should happen, _that_ would have nothing to do with the coming of
Christ. The heavens and earth which he consumes with the breath of his
mouth, and destroys with the brightness of his coming, are the religions
and moralities, the institutions and works, of men. And the new heavens
and new earth which take their place are the higher, nobler, purer
religions and moralities which flow out of the Spirit of Christ.
§ 4. Examination of the Account of Christ’s Coming given by Jesus in
Matthew (chapters 24-26).
A great difficulty in regard to the coming of Christ is to combine in one
view the different notions given in Scripture concerning it. Many of these
ideas indicate that the coming of Christ took place at the destruction of
Jerusalem, as, for example, the description of wars, destruction of the
Temple, and especially the declaration that “this generation shall not
pass away till all these things be fulfilled.” On the other hand, the
coming of Christ is expressly connected, in our translation, with “the end
of the world,” and with the general judgment. Hence a difficulty in
interpreting these passages, some persons thinking that the coming of
Christ took place at the destruction of Jerusalem; others thinking that it
is yet to take place at the end of the world; others, again, maintaining
two or more comings of Christ; and others spiritualizing the whole of it,
and making it mean the spread of the spirit of Christianity.
Let us, therefore, examine the passage in which Christ’s coming is spoken
of, and endeavor to find its natural and obvious meaning, and so see how
far the common Orthodox conception is correct.
The subject is not unimportant. Several chapters in the Gospel of Matthew
(24-26) are devoted to the description of this event. All of the Epistles
contain frequent allusions to it. The apostles unquestionably expected
Christ’s coming in their day, and they had a right to do so, inasmuch as
Jesus himself had distinctly said that their generation would not pass
away till all was fulfilled. And in the main fact they were not mistaken,
however they may have been deceived, as we have before said, in taking too
outward a view of the attending circumstances. For if Christ’s coming did
not take place in their day, not only were they themselves mistaken on a
most important point, but Jesus was mistaken likewise.
Some of the other points in the description of this event are these:
Christ’s coming was to be like that of the thief in the night—that is, it
was to be unexpected, and to take men unprepared. It was to be preceded by
wars, commotions, and misery in every form; preceded also by the preaching
of the truth in many lands. It was to be as difficult to locate Christ at
his coming, as to fix the lightning, which comes out of the east and
shines to the west. It was to be attended with great spiritual darkness,
even in the minds of the wise and good. The sun, and moon, and stars of
the moral world were to be darkened, and the powers of the heavens to be
shaken; and of ten virgins, all going together to meet the bridegroom,
half would be found spiritually asleep when he came. Christ’s coming would
be especially judgment and punishment. He would part the sheep from the
goats. He would consume with the brightness of his coming the man of sin.
Such are some of the traits with which the coming of Jesus is described by
himself and by his apostles. How are these to be reconciled with the
facts, and what was his coming?
The best way to get at the facts is to begin at the beginning, and ask
_what the disciples meant_ when they asked for the signs of Christ’s
coming. They were sitting with Jesus on the Mount of Olives, looking
across the valley between, at the Temple. They saw and admired the
gorgeous magnificence of this vast edifice towering before them, white
with marble and yellow with gold, against the deep blue sky of that sunny
land, and as they admired it, Jesus told them that every stone of that
divine structure should be cast down. And then they asked, “_When_ shall
these things be? and what shall be the signs of thy coming, and of the end
of the world?” What was the connection, in their minds, between the three
events? Why should they have at once inferred that the destruction of the
Temple was to take place at the coming of Christ, and that the coming of
Christ was to take place at the end of the world? There was no connection
at all, according to the common notions on this subject. If the coming of
Christ was to be a great outward manifestation in the sky, to take place
long after his death, after the lapse of thousands of years, and at the
destruction of the visible universe, what had that to do with the Jewish
Temple? or, indeed, what had that to do with any of their ideas concerning
their Master? But the notion in their minds, when they asked the question,
was something very different; not the present Christian idea, but the
usual Jewish idea. They spoke as Jews, out of the notions of their day.
Christ answered what was in their minds, not what is in ours. If we wish
to know what he meant, we must place ourselves on their stand-point, look
out of their eyes, and listen with their ears.
The coming of Christ had a very distinct meaning to the Jewish mind. It
meant the manifestation of the Messiah, _as such_. It meant his coming to
reign as king. It meant his manifestation in Judea, in Jerusalem, as the
great Son of David, and the submission of the Jews, and Gentiles with
them, to his authority. The disciples of Jesus, believing him to be the
Christ, believed that he was to come as such. He had come as Prophet, as
Teacher, as a worker of beneficent miracles, but he had not yet come as
Christ, as King. They were not asking about any second coming after his
death and resurrection, for they did not believe that he was to die. They
were asking for his present triumphant manifestation and investiture as
the Messiah.
Nor were they asking—as our translators make them ask—for “the end of the
world.” But they were asking for the _end of the age_—that is, of the
first age. We have said that the Jews divided all time into two great
periods; one the age preceding the Messiah, the other the age of the
Messiah. The first was called this age, or the present age; the other the
coming age. The end of the first period and beginning of the second were
called the ends of the age; as where Paul says, “These are written for our
admonition, upon whom the ends of the world are come;” and where he says
that Christ has “now once appeared in the end of the world to put away
sin.” These were the ideas of the Jews, as we know from history. When,
therefore, Christ spoke of the overthrow of the Temple, they inferred that
he was speaking of the beginning of the Messianic age; since the Temple
would not be overthrown while the Jewish theocratic and Levitical
government continued. Now, as the Jewish age did come to an end at the
destruction of Jerusalem, and Christianity, as the universal religion,
took the place of Judaism in the education of the human race, this really
was the coming of the Messiah and the end of the age.
We understand, therefore, Christ to have been really speaking of his
coming, as an event soon to take place, and which did soon take place,
when, at the destruction of Jerusalem, the Jewish Christians were
scattered through the world, and Christianity took its place as a
universal religion.(44) If this exhausted the meaning of the idea, it
would be of very little interest to us. But the contents of the passage
are more rich and full; and, like most of Christ’s sayings, besides its
present and immediate application, it has more universal and far-reaching
meanings. The principles of Christianity which were manifested then,
continue to be manifested in other forms to-day. Jesus said on one
occasion, “The hour is coming, and now is, when all that are in their
graves shall hear the voice of the Son of man.” And on another occasion,
“The hour is coming, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship
the Father.” The hour had come in its first manifestation, but was to come
again in other and richer manifestations of the same principle. So Christ
himself came as King at the taking of Jerusalem, but has come since, again
and again, more plainly and fully, in other triumphs of his truth, in
other manifestations of his power. We believe that the coming of Christ
took place at the destruction of Jerusalem. We believe that it has taken
place since, in other historical events. We believe that it is to take
place more fully hereafter, in this life and in the other life.
Let us look and consider how this may be.
§ 5. Coming of Christ in Human History at different Times.
As we look back through the eighteen centuries of Christian history, we
can observe many events which may now be seen to have been each a coming
of Christ. When, at the destruction of Jerusalem, the Mosaic theocracy
went down before the iron power of Rome, amid those scenes of horror the
firmest believers in Christ might have feared only evil. It seemed to be
the overthrow of everything most sacred—the triumph of Paganism over the
worship of Jehovah. Yet what was the result? Jesus then ceased to be the
Jewish Messiah, and began to reign over all nations as the world-teacher,
the Son of God, the prophet for mankind. Since then, more and more, the
world has gone to him as to its great Master. This, therefore, was a
coming of Christ.
Look again. The early centuries are disgraced with theological wars.
Fierce conflicts are carried on about the Trinity, and the rank of Jesus
in the universe. All regard for the pure, divine truth of Christianity
seems forgotten in the fury of these controversies. Yet, nevertheless,
amid all the absurdity and contradiction, one truth emerges, everywhere
recognized—that in Jesus was something divine; that God was more fully
manifest in him than elsewhere; that he is the moral image of the Infinite
One. This is another coming of Christ. He comes now not merely as a
prophet, but as the revealer of divine love and truth, in his own
character. The theological doctrines, in which this truth has been
wrapped, are the husks and shells which the world will throw away. But
throughout Christendom the idea of God is derived from the character of
Jesus, and in this way Jesus has come to rule the hearts of men as their
divine King.
Other centuries passed by, and we find new and strange ideas taking
possession of men’s minds. A horror of life, a dread of the sins of the
world, drive men into the desert, to live as hermits and anchorites.
Thousands and tens of thousands of monks withdrew from the world into the
wilderness. All Christianity appeared to be changing into a new form of
heathenish, self-inflicted torture. Its blessed humanity, its genial
influences on social life, seemed to be fast disappearing. Nevertheless,
out of all this error one truth emerged, one Christian idea was
developed—that of self-discipline and self-culture. And in the development
of this idea Christ came to reign _over the individual soul_ as its
Master, Guide, and Redeemer from all sin.
After this arose the Papacy. The Church, as a powerful institution, became
ambitious to rule the state and the world. A spiritual despotism appeared,
surrounding itself with earthly splendor, grasping the sword of earthly
power, and the farthest removed from the humble and gentle spirit of its
Master. It would tolerate no opposition to its will, in high places or
low. It hurled its thunders at the head of kings, and sent crusading
armies to persecute and torture the peasants of the Piedmont valleys.
Nothing could seem more full of the spirit of Antichrist than this
spiritual despotism embodied in the Papacy. And yet, even through this
evil there was developed a truth—that there was something in the world
higher than kings, greater than the state. Papacy, with all its evils, was
a standing proof, in an age of brute force, of the supremacy of mind over
matter. So that, even here, the pride and selfishness of the priests and
the popes have been overruled, in the providence of God, to give
ascendency to a Christian idea, and to cause Christ to come as the King of
the world.
Consider another important event in the history of Europe: the conversion
of the barbarous tribes to Christianity. When the nations of the north
poured from the forests of Germany and the deserts of Scandinavia over the
Roman empire,—when Goths and Vandals, Franks, Lombards, and Normans,
quenched the light of civilization and brought the dark ages over
Europe,—how terrible seemed the gloom, and how hopeless the prospects, of
the human race! But we now see the result in modern civilization. We see
all these different nations subdued by the power of Christianity, and a
new unity, a higher harmony, as the result. We see the great idea of the
unity of the race, the harmony of nations, resulting from all this
darkness and misery. So Christ has come again as the Prince of Peace,
breaking down the partition walls, and proclaiming a brotherhood of man.
Let us look at one more event of history—the Lutheran Reformation. What
evils attended it! What wars came out of it! How has the impulse to
freedom given by Luther degenerated into licentiousness, run out in
infidelity and unbelief! And yet, when we consider the ideas of personal
responsibility and individual independence which have been born of
it,—when we consider what an impulse it has given to thought, to free
inquiry, to earnest investigation of truth, all the results of this
fruitful principle,—we cannot doubt that this also was a coming of Jesus,
the unfolding of a new and higher power in Christianity.
Thus has Christ come from age to age, and in the midst of apparent
failure, increasing error, growing unbelief, and all forms of human
wickedness, has acquired new power over the human mind. At the present day
he is more the King of the world than ever. When he seems to go, then he
comes. When iniquity most abounds, then he is nearest. When love grows
cold in the hearts of his disciples, then a new impulse of faith is about
to be given. When false prophets rise up and deceive many, then new
champions of the truth are near at hand. Christ comes amid wars and
persecutions. He comes unexpectedly, like the thief in the night; comes
without observation; and while men say, “Lo, here!” and “Lo, there!” the
kingdom of heaven is in the midst of them. He is not to be found in the
desert, nor in the secret chambers; neither in public nor private; located
neither in this nor that particular place; incarnate neither in this nor
that particular person. But Christ comes like the lightning, seen over the
whole heaven at once, in a new spirit pervading all parts of life, all
parts of society.
§ 6. Relation of the Parable of the Virgins, and of the Talents, to
Christ’s Coming.
We now see what is meant by the parable of the foolish and wise virgins,
and of the talents, which follows it. We see their application to this
description of Christ’s coming. If the coming of Christ be thus
unexpected, he will not be recognized by the sleeping servant, nor by
those who beat their fellow-servants. Slothful Christians who make no
effort to improve, persecuting Christians who spend their time in
denouncing heretics, and saying, “My Lord delayeth his coming,” never
understand the signs of the times, nor recognize any new influx of divine
light in the world. At each new coming of Christ those who have been
faithful are rewarded by more light. To those who have, shall be given,
and the faithless lose what they had before. From him who hath not, shall
be taken away even what he seems to have. The capacity of seeing Christ
when he comes, of recognizing him in any new manifestation of truth,
depends on his previous fidelity.
§ 7. Relation of the Account of the Judgment by the Messiah, in Matt. ch.
25, to his Coming.
But what is meant by the judgment described in the 25th chapter of
Matthew, commencing, “When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all
the angels with him, then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory, and
before him shall be gathered all nations, and he shall separate them one
from another, as a shepherd divideth the sheep from the goats.” This
stands in such close connection with what goes before, that many refer
this also to the destruction of Jerusalem. But the moral meaning is so
prominent, that others apply it entirely to the final judgment in the
future life. The difficulties on both sides disappear if we reflect that
the principles which govern this life and the next are identical—that
whether Christ came at Jerusalem, comes to-day, or comes in the future
life, the laws of Christian retribution are the same. Wherever Christ
judges men, the sheep go to the right, and the goats to the left. The
generous, humane, and disinterested hear always the words, “Come, ye
blessed of my Father; inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the
foundation of the world.” The judgment in this world, it may be, is only
heard in the depths of the soul. It may be that no other mortal knows of
it. Still it is the voice of Christ which speaks. Still it is the real
kingdom which they inherit. The judgment in the future life, may be or may
not be, before assembled multitudes whom no man can number, and the
kingdom then inherited may be one shared with the angels, and extending
over worlds. Still the sentence is the same in both cases. The judgment of
Christ is one in all worlds. It was, and is, and shall be. Jesus Christ is
the same yesterday, to-day, and forever.
It may be said, this is to make the coming of Christ merely figurative—the
coming of ideas and principles only; only the coming of his religion; and
this is but an invisible abstraction. We reply, that according to our
view, Christianity cannot be conceived of as an abstraction, apart from
the person of Jesus, nor can his religion come unless he comes with it.
Jesus is with us always, in the world always, and none the less really,
because invisibly. It is no figure of speech to say that Christ is with
his Church, and with his truth; that where it goes, he goes; that when he
comes, it comes. It may even be that his presence will not always be an
invisible one. It may be that what we now believe, we shall one day see
and know. But then those only will recognize their Master’s presence who
are awake and watching for him. To the others it will seem a mere illusion
or enthusiasm.
§ 8. How Christ is, and how he is not, to judge the World.
In some places Jesus says that he is made Judge of mankind, and in other
places denies that he is to judge any one. Take, for example, the
following passages, selected because they seem to contradict each other.
They are all in the Gospel of John, and therefore the contradiction is not
in the different limitations or special misconceptions of the different
evangelists. The passages are, John 3:17; 9:39; 5:22; 8:15; 12:47. The
first is as follows: “For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn
the world, but that the world through him might be saved.” The word here
translated “_condemn_” is precisely the same as that which elsewhere is
translated “_judge_.” Consequently we should here read that God sent
Christ into the world, not to judge the world, but to save it. But the
next text referred to (John 9:39) is one in which Jesus says, “For
judgment have I come into the world, that they which see not may see, and
that they which see might be made blind.” Again (in John 5:22) it is said,
that “the Father judgeth no man, but hath committed all judgment unto the
Son.” But in the following passage (John 8:15) Jesus says, “Ye judge after
the flesh. I judge no man.” And in the last text he repeats the same idea.
“And if any man hear my words and believe not, I judge him not; for I came
not to judge the world, but to save the world.” We have, therefore, in
these passages, this apparent contradiction—that the Saviour seems in some
places to declare that he is to judge the world, and in others that he is
not to judge the world. We therefore shall do well to inquire how these
are to be understood, and in what way at all they are to be reconciled
with each other, and with the common Orthodox doctrine concerning
judgment.
And here we may remark, in passing, that there are many such seeming
contradictions as these in the New Testament, and that to the student of
the Gospels, who is a sincere seeker of truth, they are very precious and
valuable. Such a one is always glad at finding statements in the New
Testament which thus appear opposed to each other; for he knows, by
experience, that they are the very passages from which he may learn the
most, and where he will be likely to find some hitherto unnoticed truth
concerning Christ or his gospel. Such truth, however, will not be found if
he attempts to remove the contradiction by any artificial, hasty, or
forced process. If his object is merely to find proof-texts in support of
the doctrines he already believes, such paradoxes will afford him nothing
but barren difficulties, and a sphere for the exercise of sophistry and
misplaced ingenuity. But if he can bear to admit his ignorance, and is
willing to examine these difficulties in order to correct his own errors,
enlarge his own views, and learn something really new, he will often find
here the clew to deeper insight and to a larger knowledge.
What, then, is the explanation of these passages? In what way is Christ to
_judge_? How is it that he has come into this world for _judgment_? and
how has the Father committed _all judgment_ unto the Son? and how,
nevertheless, can be say, “_I judge no man; for I came not to judge the
world_”?
Christ’s coming was simply to do good; to make men better; to save them
from their sins; to reveal pardon; to offer salvation; to manifest God’s
love. “The law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus
Christ.” It is the law, and not the gospel, which judges and condemns the
evil-doer. The law given by Moses, or the law given in the conscience, in
the reason, in the nature of things, written on the face of nature,
written in the soul of man,—this law has not been made more strict by the
coming of Christ. Men were bound before, by the law of nature and the law
of Moses, to love God with all their heart, and their neighbor as
themselves; and they are not bound to do more now. They were bound by
nature and reason to obey their conscience, to do the best they could
always, and they are not bound to do any more now. The whole influence of
the gospel is a bountiful and gracious one, intended and adapted to make
it easier to do right, to add new motives to virtue. Christ is no strict,
severe judge, deciding by the letter of the law, bound by his office to
show no favor or compassion, but the sinner’s advocate and friend. And
hence it may truly be said that he came not to judge the world, but to
save the world.
Nevertheless, it is also true that the greatest blessings and the best
gifts of God are also judgments. They test the character. They show what
it is. According to the state of mind and heart in which a man is, so does
he receive, or reject, or neglect the offered good. If he loves light, he
comes to the light. If he loves darkness, he goes away. If his deeds are
good, he gratefully receives any revelation which brings him nearer to
God. If his deeds are evil, he rejects such revelation, avoids it,
dislikes the thought of it. So it necessarily is that the best and kindest
of men who wishes only to do good to all, nevertheless, by his very
presence and his offers of good, judges and condemns the wicked. But what
are the judgment and the sentence? Simply this—that light has come into
the world, and that they have chosen darkness rather than light, because
their deeds are evil. Therefore it was necessarily the case that the
coming of Jesus into the world was a judgment, and that though he
everywhere went with the purpose of saving and blessing men, yet that he
necessarily was also a judge. The thoughts of many hearts were revealed by
his presence. The pure in heart came to him in humility, penitence, and
faith. The proud in heart, the self-willed, the self-righteous, turned
away from him, and so judged themselves unworthy of receiving his truth.
The Galilean peasants, the common people, heard him gladly. The Scribes
and Pharisees murmured against him and rejected him. This was really a
judgment on both: the sheep went to the right hand, and the goats to the
left. Thus it is a law of human nature that all high truth by its coming
judges men, and shows by its influence upon them what is their real state.
And in this way, as Christ’s truth was the highest of all, so he was, and
is, a judge in the highest sense. But this is not quite all. The coming of
such truth not only shows the good and evil which are in men, but it
develops them, brings them out, increases the good, increases also the
evil. It is necessarily so; it cannot be otherwise. When good comes to us,
if it does not make us better, it makes us worse. Truth and goodness are
like the magnet. They have two poles. They attract and they repel. Thus it
was written that the coming of Jesus would be for the fall or the rising
of many. Thus he said, “For judgment I have come into the world, that
those which see not may see, and that those who see may be made blind.”
Peter was made better, Judas was made worse, by being in the company of
Christ. His coming was not only judgment, but also reward and punishment.
He came to the fishermen of Galilee: they were pure in heart, they were
lovers of truth and goodness, and his coming transformed them into
apostles, saints, and martyrs. He came to the Scribes and Pharisees: they
were not pure in heart. They were proud of their position, their
influence, their piety, and his coming transformed them into murderers.
We are now prepared to decide what is meant by Jesus in saying that he
came to judge the world, and yet that he came not to judge, but to save.
It was not the purpose of his mission to judge. The direct object of his
coming was not to judge, but to save; but indirectly, and as a matter of
necessity, one of the consequences of his coming was, that men were judged
by the word which he spoke, by the truth which he manifested, by the
holiness of his life, by the bliss which he offered, and which they
rejected. And yet it was true that he did not judge them, and that he did
not mean to judge them. They were already judged by their own choice and
determination. Therefore he says, “He who believeth not on me is judged
already, because he hath not believed on the name of the only begotten Son
of God.” It was not the will of Christ, but the truth itself, which
pronounced the sentence upon him. “The word that I have spoken, the same
shall judge him at the last day.” And thus it is said, that God is the
Judge of all, and yet again, that the Father judgeth no man, but hath
committed all judgment unto the Son, and hath given him authority to
execute judgment also, because he is the Son of man. The explanation is,
that men are judged by the truth. But this truth is not abstract, but the
truth embodied in the life and teaching of Jesus. God does not come into
the world himself to show men their sins, but he embodies his truth and
holiness in the life of his Son, and so judges the world.
In giving this explanation, we have looked steadily at the essential thing
in judgment. We have regarded the substance, not the form. If we think of
judgment as something outward, the judge seated on his throne, the
criminal standing before him, and a formal sentence pronounced, of
acquittal or condemnation, we confess that we should find it difficult to
reconcile these different passages of Scripture, some of which declare
that Christ is to be the judge, and others that he is not to be. But what
is the essential thing in judgment? It is that justice shall be done, and
that truth and right shall be vindicated; that the good shall be rewarded,
and the wicked punished; that virtue and truth shall be seen and
recognized in the consciences of men for what they are. This is the
essential thing. _How_ this is done, whether in an open tribunal, before
the assembled universe, or in the secret places of every man’s soul,
belongs not to the essence, but to the form, and is comparatively
unimportant.
§ 9. When Christ’s Judgment takes Place.
Nevertheless, there is a more important question to be answered in
relation to the _time_ of judgment. When is the judgment? For it may be
thought, from what we have said, that we consider judgment as taking place
only in this world. But such is not the fact. Christ’s judgments take
place at Christ’s coming, whether here or hereafter. Whenever Christ
comes, he comes to judge. His first coming, in Judea, was a judgment; and
he said, “_Now_ is the judgment of the world.” His coming judged all those
who were near him; revealed the state of their minds and hearts; showed
them what they were. Wherever he went, men arranged themselves at once
according to their real characters, and the thoughts of many hearts were
revealed.
It is true that people at that day did not understand that they were thus
condemning themselves. They did not know that the awful judgment of God
was being pronounced upon them; that they were standing before his bar in
the presence of angels. They did not know that the day of judgment had
come, and that they were giving an account of every idle word even then.
But so it was. When they scoffed at Jesus and said, “He is a gluttonous
man and a wine-bibber,” they may have forgotten their words almost before
they left their mouths. But there they stand, recorded against them
forever—an everlasting proof of their blindness of mind and their hardness
of heart. When the penitent woman brought the ointment and anointed the
feet of Jesus, and bathed them with her tears, little did she think that
it was her day of judgment also, and that the approving sentence of her
act would be read by angels in heaven and countless myriads on earth. None
of them knew that it was a judgment then; but it was so.
But was that the only judgment? No; for whenever Jesus comes, he comes to
judge; and since that, his first coming, he has come again and again to
individuals and to the world, and every coming has been a new judgment on
the state of the human mind and heart. It has therefore been well said,
that the history of the world is the judgment of the world. And it is
always true that this judgment is not understood when it is pronounced,
but is seen and recognized afterwards. It is so with individuals; it is so
with communities. Who is there who, in looking back over his past life,
does not witness many an hour in which the truth has come to him, and he
refused to admit it, and so sentenced himself to receive a lie? in which
he has had opportunities of improvement, opportunities of doing good, and
has refused to accept them, and so the talent has been taken from him and
given to another. This is the judgment—that light has come into the world,
and we have chosen darkness. At the time we did not know it: blinded by
prejudice, heated by passion, we rushed recklessly on. But sooner or later
comes the calm hour of recollection, and we see ourselves as we are.
But is this judgment which takes place in this world the only one? It is
unreasonable to think so. There are, in fact, two extreme views on this
subject. The views of those who say that all judgment is in this life, and
the views of those who say that no judgment is in this life. The New
Testament teaches that we are judged here, and that we are also judged
hereafter. The coming of Christ is here, and also hereafter; and the
judgment which commenced with his first coming will not be completed till
all of us stand before the judgment seat to give an account of the deeds
done in the body, whether they be good or evil. “It is appointed unto men
once to die, but after this the judgment.” There is a judgment in this
life, and another to come. But those will be best prepared for that future
judgment who understand the present judgment. Here is an example of the
nature of the judgments which take place in this world.
In the year 1633, an old man was brought before the Court of the
Inquisition, consisting of seven cardinals of the Roman Catholic Church,
to hear a sentence and to pronounce a recantation. The crime he had
committed was the publication of a book in the form of a dialogue,
maintaining that the sun stood still, and that the earth moved; which
proposition these holy cardinals pronounced to be absurd, false in
philosophy, and formally heretical, seeing that it was expressly contrary
to Holy Scripture. Whereupon they call upon him to abjure, execrate, and
detest these errors and heresies; prohibiting his book and condemning him
to confinement, with the penance of reciting once a week, for three years,
the seven penitential psalms. And thereupon, this man, Galileo Galilei, of
the age of seventy, on his knees, with his hands on the Gospels, abjures
his opinion.
These seven cardinals thought that they were pronouncing sentence on
Galileo and on the Copernican system. But, in reality, they pronounced
sentence on themselves and their own church. They put it upon record
forever, that the Roman Catholic Church, claiming to be infallible in
matters of faith, had, by its highest judicature, declared the Copernican
system a heresy, and thus declared its own claim to infallibility a lie.
This was the condemnation—that light had come into the world, and they
chose darkness rather than light.
So it is whenever a new truth comes into the world: it attracts the
free-minded, the lovers of truth; it repels those bound by interest or
passion. Those who believe, with Solomon, that a living dog is better than
a dead lion, leave behind them the past, and with open eyes go forward,
leaving the dead to bury the dead. Those who change the maxim, and love a
dead dog more than a living lion, turn their backs to the east and to the
rising sun, and hug their much-loved errors to their hearts. So the truth
stands in their midst, awful in its beauty, and judges them—sending away
its foes, drawing its friends to its embrace.
But it is not in abstract truth, whether of science or theology, that
Christ comes to us now. It is in the truth in its concrete shape, embodied
in the reforms which overthrow evil, in the great moral improvements which
do away with the sin and woe of the world. Every new cause of this sort
parts the sheep from the goats, and causes the thoughts of many hearts to
be revealed. We do not mean to assert that all who sympathize with any
particular reformatory measures, or any particular reformatory party, are
on the side of Christ, and all who disapprove these measures, or this
party, are against him. Such an assertion would be the sign of the
narrowest bigotry or the most foolish ignorance of human nature. But we
mean to say, that when any great human and moral movement comes to rouse
men’s minds to a great evil—such as the evil of _war_, _slavery_,
_intemperance_, _licentiousness_, _popular ignorance_, _pauperism_,
_infidelity_, it is impossible for good men not to take an interest in it,
and in their own way to aid it. If men neglect and ridicule such
movements, find fault with all that is done, and do nothing themselves,
they show thereby that they do not care so much for their brother’s
happiness as for their own ease and comfort. In this way it becomes true
that
“Some great cause, God’s new Messiah, offering each the bloom or
blight,
Parts the goats upon the left hand, parts the sheep upon the
right,
And the choice goes by forever ’twixt that darkness and the
light.”
We read in the book of Acts, that after Paul and Barnabas had preached the
gospel to the Jews in Antioch, the Gentiles were interested also, and
great multitudes came together to hear the word of God. But when the Jews
saw the multitudes, they were filled with envy, and contradicted Paul and
blasphemed. Then Paul and Barnabas waxed bold, and said, “It was necessary
that the word of God should be first preached to you; but since you put it
from you, and _judge yourselves unworthy of eternal life_, lo, we turn to
the Gentiles.” A hard judgment for a man to pronounce on himself—that he
is not worthy of eternal life!
But do we not often all do the same? Christ comes to us in the form of a
new truth, which will correct our errors and enlarge our hearts. But
loving our own little creed better than the truth, we reject it without
examination, and so judge ourselves unworthy of the light, strength, and
peace it might bestow. Christ comes again in some opportunity of
usefulness to our neighbor. But loving our own selfish ease, we excuse
ourselves, and so judge ourselves unworthy of the happiness we should
enjoy in doing the kind action. He comes in some deep conviction, calling
us to a new life. We feel that we ought to leave our frivolity, and live
for God and eternity—live for what is real and permanent. But we stifle
these convictions, and go back to our old lives, and so judge that we are
not worthy to become the friends and fellow-workers of Jesus, and
companions of the pure and good. The great feast is ready, and the
invitation is sent to us, and we, with one consent, begin to make excuse.
Do we think that in that moment we are standing before the judgment seat
of God, and pronouncing sentence on ourselves? It is our own heart that
condemns us, and God, and Christ, and the everlasting truth of things must
confirm the sentence.
§ 10. Paul’s View of the Judgment by Christ.
What were the views of the apostle Paul concerning a future judgment? One
of the passages is in Romans. (2:5-16.) In this passage Paul describes a
day, or time, when God should judge and bring to light the secrets of the
human heart. He refers probably to the coming of Christ, as described in
the twenty-fifth chapter of Matthew. Christ’s coming is represented as
“that day” the “day of judgment,” as, “it shall be more tolerable for
Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment.” It was not, we have seen, as
is commonly supposed, only a judgment in the other world after death, but
also a judgment in this world. It was not when we should go to Christ in
the other world, but when Christ should come to us in this world. It is
spoken of as a particular day, or time, and, no doubt, it was thought at
first by Paul, as by the other apostles, that the coming of Christ was to
be sudden and outward—an imposing visible transaction. But, gradually,
Paul’s views on this subject changed, under the influence of a growing
spiritual insight. At first he interprets literally what Jesus says of his
coming. But afterwards, in his later Epistles to the Ephesians and
Colossians, he ceases to dwell on the outward coming, and speaks of the
inward revelation of Christ in the heart—speaks of our now sitting in
heavenly places with Christ. We may, therefore, suppose that the apostle
believed the essence of the judgment to be in this—that either in this
world or the next, or both, there shall be a revelation of God’s truth to
the soul, so that every soul shall see itself as God sees it—see its own
evil or good, and so be rewarded or punished by that sight. This idea is
given by Jesus himself, in his description of the judgment which was to
take place before that generation passed away—a judgment in which the Son
of man should be seated on the throne of his glory, with all his angels,
and all nations be collected before him. The judgment consists in showing
to the good, that when they did anything good to man, they did it to
Christ and God; and in showing to the bad, that when they refused anything
to their poor brethren in want, they refused it to Christ and God. The
judgment is therefore making known to each man his own real character. The
consequence of that revelation is, that some men immediately go into
spiritual happiness, and others into spiritual suffering.
This is the substance of the Christian doctrine of judgment, as taught in
the New Testament. All else is accessory, and belongs to the rhetoric—is
part of the _mise en scène_; but there are two points in the views of the
apostle concerning judgment, which deserve further notice. The first is in
1 Cor. 6:2, where he says, “Know ye not that the saints shall judge the
world?” and (verse 3), “Know ye not that we shall judge angels?” He speaks
of this as of something which they already knew, or at any rate could
know; something like an axiom, as when he says (verse 9), “Know ye not
that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God?” or (verse 19),
“Know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit?” This notion
is based on the idea of the unity of Christ and his disciples. Christians
are joint heirs with Christ. Whatever Christ inherits, they receive and
share with him. If he judges the world, and judges angels, they do the
same with him, because they share his spirit of insight. Paul thinks the
essence of Christianity to be so profound, that even the angels, desiring
to look into it, may not have seen it. Therefore Christians, to whose
heart God has revealed it by his Spirit, may be able to set the angels
right in some matters. But this does away with the notion of a literal day
of judgment; for we can hardly imagine Christians to be assembled together
and seated on a throne by the side of Christ, in order to judge the world.
Some millions of Christians seated on a local throne as judges, with
millions of men and angels standing before them, is an impossible picture.
The other point is the passage in 1 Cor. 11:31: “If we would judge
ourselves, we should not be judged.” Here a principle seems to be laid
down—that just so far as we apply God’s truth to our own hearts and
consciences, we do not need to have it applied by God. And this
corresponds with the account of the judgment to which we have before
referred, in the twenty-fifth chapter of Matthew. Those who are there
called up for judgment, and who stand before the throne, are not Jews or
Christians, but Gentiles (τὰ ἔθνη). The holy angels are with Christ in his
glory. The heathen appear before him; those who have been doing good
without knowing it are received by him into his kingdom, as those who have
been blessed by his Father. They are Christians, it appears, without
knowing it. They inherit the kingdom, from which the original heirs who
have been wicked and slothful servants, and who have buried their talent
in the napkin, are excluded. Christians who have judged themselves, and
applied Christianity by their own lives, are not to be judged at the
coming of Christ, but only those who have been doing right or wrong
ignorantly.(45)
§ 11. Final Result.
The course of our investigations in the present chapter has brought us to
this result. Orthodoxy is right in expecting the coming of Christ in this
world, but wrong in supposing it wholly future and wholly outward. It is
right in making it a _personal_ coming, and not merely the coming of his
truth apart from him, but wrong in conceiving of this personal coming, as
material to the senses, instead of spiritual to the soul. It is right in
expecting a judgment, but wrong in placing it only in the other world. It
is right in supposing that all mankind, the converted, the unconverted,
and the heathen, are to be judged by Christian truth, but wrong in
supposing that this judgment must occur in one place or at one time.
Finally, in this, as in regard to many other doctrines, Orthodoxy fails by
neglecting the great saying of Jesus, “THE SPIRIT QUICKENETH, THE FLESH
PROFITETH NOTHING,” and the similar statement of Paul, “THE LETTER
KILLETH.”