Now to prove the Christian religion untrue, or to prove that the
evidences on which it rests are insufficient, is a more difficult task
than some of its opponents appear to imagine, if we may judge from the
boastful language in which they record their supposed achievements.
Let it never be forgotten, that the Christian religion is founded upon
certain alleged _historical facts_ that must be disposed of before it
falls.[A] The holy temple of a loving soul filled with the glory of
Christ is spiritual, but it is nevertheless based upon facts as on
foundation-stones, the chief corner-stone being Jesus Christ the
personal Saviour, "who was dead and is alive, and liveth for
evermore!" Without these facts Christianity could not exist. The duty,
for example, of supremely loving and devotedly serving Jesus
Christ, implies the truth of other facts, such as the fulfilment of
prophecies, miracles, the life and character of Jesus, His atoning
death, resurrection, &c., all of which establish His claims to our
faith. But in addition to these, and as their evidence also and
result, there is the experience of the whole living Church, derived
from faith in Jesus as the resurrection and the life.
[Footnote A: Neander, in his preface to his "Life of Christ," quotes
from Niebuhr what he calls "the golden words of one of the greatest
minds of modern times." "The man," says Niebuhr, "who does not hold
Christ's earthly life, with all its miracles, to be as properly and
really historical as any event in the sphere of history, and who
does not receive all points in the Apostles' Creed with the fullest
conviction, I do not conceive to be a Protestant Christian. As for
that Christianity which is such according to the fashion of the
modern philosophers and pantheists,--without a personal God, without
immortality, without an individuality of man, without historical
faith,--it may be a very subtle _philosophy_, but it is no
Christianity at all. Again and again have I said that I know not what
to do with a metaphysical God, and that I will have no other but the
God of the Bible, who is _heart to heart_."]
But before Christianity can be destroyed, it is absolutely necessary
to destroy the evidences of those historical facts on which it rests.
This, as I have said, is no easy task. There are many high walls, many
encircling lines of defence around the old fortress, each and all of
which must be taken, ere the citadel itself can be reached and laid
in ruins. _Now this has never yet been done_. The enemy has made many
attacks during the last eighteen centuries, and on several occasions
the last grand assault which was to decide the long campaign has been
threatened. Every method has been adopted which critical skill could
apply, which the most subtle genius could invent, and the most
untiring perseverance execute; but, in spite of all, "the strong
city," with "salvation for walls and bulwarks," still remains strong
as ever. For, to drop all metaphor, in whatever way we may account for
it, the fact is undeniable, that Christianity, in the form of supreme
love to Jesus Christ as the Son of God, not only survives, but in no
age of the world's past history has it been so strongly rooted in the
convictions and affections of so many men, nor has it ever been given
such promise of filling the whole earth.
Let us suppose, however, for the sake of argument, that by some
process hitherto undiscovered, Christianity, as the religion of
supreme love to this living Person, Jesus Christ, is at last proved to
be a fiction; that the millennium of infidelity has arrived; that the
religion taught by Christ and His apostles has become as dead to the
world as that of Buddh or Confucius is now to the mind of Europe; that
our Christian churches, like the heathen temples of Greece or Rome,
remain but as monuments of a superstition long ago exploded by the
light of science and philosophy; that all those supernatural Christian
facts and truths, which like a mighty firmament of stars, now cluster
around the name of Jesus, have departed as lights from the visible
universe; that Christian truth is as silent before the world as Christ
himself was when He stood before Herod, and answered him nothing;
until even the wailing cry has ceased of the last desponding and
disconsolate believer on earth, "They have taken away my Lord, and
I know not where to find him!" Well, then, the work is done! The
energetic teachers of the propaganda of unbelief have accomplished
their long-cherished purpose, and the professors of an earnest and
devoted faith in Christ have perished, leaving no memorial behind them
except their "curious books," or their hoary tombstones, which record
their old faith in Him as the resurrection and the life.
When such a crisis as this has at last arrived, the world will surely
pause, and count the fruits of victory. Wise men will then doubtless
consider with an earnest spirit what has been gained to humanity by
this tremendous revolution in all those opinions and ideas cherished
during so many ages; and the well-wishers of mankind will examine the
spoils which the conquerors have ready for enriching the poor and
needy as the result of this triumph over a religion that was clung to
by the best and noblest men with a tenacity overcome only when earth
was old, and time was well-nigh ending. But may we not now anticipate
such a solemn review, by asking those who are wishful to destroy
Christianity, what they intend to put in its place when their object
is accomplished. If they have anything else to give us, let us know
what it is, that we may see and judge if it is better than the old
religion; if it is better suited to meet the wants of man in every
period and condition of his varied life; if it is likely to do better
work on earth, and produce better fruit; if its truth rests on better
evidence, and if, in short, it is such a gift from heaven that angels
with songs of joy might announce this new gospel of peace on earth,
and this new message of good-will to man. Strange to say, such
questions, though often asked, have hitherto remained unanswered. If
there be a something better in store for us than what we profess, the
blissful secret has not yet been revealed. Infidelity, often so loud
in attacking Christianity, is silent as a god of iron or brass when we
ask at its shrine. If I give up faith in Christ, what wouldest thou
have me be and do, and how live and rejoice as an immortal being?
What, then, I again ask, would be lost and gained on both sides after
the war, in the event of Christianity being destroyed? We Christians
know full well what we would gain and lose;--we know that we would
gain nothing, and lose everything! We would lose all which we
most love in the universe of God,--all which makes us rejoice in
existence,--all which enables us to look at the past, present, and
future with perfect peace; and of all men we would be most miserable!
It is true that in regard to many an object of affection, it may be
said--
"Better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all!"
But not so in regard to our love of Jesus Christ. Better never to
have seen that glory filling the heavens and earth, and making life a
constant thanksgiving and praise, than, after having seen it, to be
persuaded by any witchery that it was all a dream--a fiction of the
imagination--a ghostly superstition--which it is wisdom to banish from
the memory. For once we have lost Jesus Christ as our ever-living,
ever-present, all-sufficient Friend and Saviour, what are we to do?
Can we contentedly fall back upon our own being, or upon any other
person, and live on "without Christ in the world!" Or are we in those
circumstances to be told that we may still have comfort in "religion
without the supernatural," and rejoice in "the eternal and essential
verities of morality!" Only think of it, Christians! The living man,
the light and hope of the family, is murdered; but a disciple of pure
science and calm philosophy enters it, and tells its agonised members
that it is folly and ignorance to indulge in such grief, for science
has analysed their friend, and preserved in a series of neat phials,
which they may easily carry about with them, all his constituent
elements, his "essentials," his carbon, his silica, this and that
gas--everything, in short, which made up the substance of him whom
they were accustomed to call their beloved; therefore they may
"comfort one another with these words!" And thus would the enemy of
Christianity presume to comfort us with his "essentials," when our
living Lord is gone! Comfort indeed!
"Comfort? comfort scorn'd by devils! this is truth the poet sings,
That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things!"
But what can the unbeliever himself expect to gain by its destruction?
"I have nothing to do with consequences," may be his reply, "but with
truth only; let every lie be tested and exposed, whatever may be the
real or imaginary gain or loss to myself or others." Brave words! with
which we have the deepest sympathy; for if they are the utterance of
a truly sincere heart, they evidence belief, and not unbelief; they
assume that there is an order and government in the universe, which
is on the side of truth, and that we may therefore, at all hazards,
discover what is true, and cling to it in the full assurance of
faith,--that ultimately the right and true are in harmony with all
that is worth loving and worth living for. Amen! we say from
our heart. At the same time, it is well to look at some of the
consequences which the destruction of Christianity would involve even
to him who destroys it.
It is obvious, for example, that should it cease to exist to us as
a reality, other realities would remain irrespective of our belief.
Existence would remain, and it _may_ be one as eternal as the life of
God; sorrow and suffering would remain, to gnaw the heart, darken the
world, and cast deep shadows over a life which must end with that
dread event, death, and the passing away of ourselves and of all we
have from the memories of mankind as if we had never been--and whither
I Worst of all, _sin_ would remain--dark, mysterious, and terrible
sin! And "obstinate questionings" would remain to disturb and perplex
the mind in moments of earnest and silent thought. Men would still
ask, What if we are responsible to God for this whole inner and outer
life of ours, with its beliefs, purposes, and actions? What if sin
and its consequences continue beyond the grave, with no remedy there
unless found here? What if there is no possible happiness but in
fellowship of spirit and character with God; and what if this is
morally impossible for us to attain without a Saviour and Sanctifier
What, in short, if all the evils which Christianity professes to
deliver us from remain as facts in our history, just as diseases
remain though the aid of the physician, who reveals their nature, and
who offers to cure them, is rejected? or, as a vessel remains a wreck
in the midst of the breakers after the life-boat which comes to save
the crew is dismissed? or, as the lion remains after the telescope
is flung aside which revealed his coming, and revealed also the only
place of safety from his attack? For it is obvious that Christianity
does not create the evils and dangers from which it offers to deliver
us, and that these must remain as facts should it be proved a fiction.
So far, then, the infidel has gained nothing by the overthrow of our
religion. "Except truth!" does he exclaim? Yet, I again repeat it,
truth in its negative form only, as destroying supposed falsehoods,
but not in its positive form as establishing something to rest upon.
Is there any other conceivable gain, then, which would accrue to the
unbeliever by his supposed success? Does he wish, for example, to
relieve oppressed souls of some great burden which crushes them?
But what alleged truths or doctrine of Christianity, if blotted out
to-morrow from the circle of belief, would ease a single soul, while
it would unquestionably be an irreparable loss to millions? Would a
God be more acceptable, and appear with greater moral beauty, who was
different from the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ? Would He
be more attractive to our hearts if He did not forgive our sins fully
and freely, or if forgiveness was not offered through such Divine
self-sacrifice? Would it be a relief to our moral being to be freed
from the privilege or duty of supremely loving Jesus Christ? Would it
lighten our hearts to be freed from the burden of having communion
with Him in prayer? Would we have more security for light, life,
strength, holiness, peace, or comfort, if there was no such Person
revealed as the Spirit of God, who freely imparts His aid to all?
Would it be glad tidings to hear that men were not to be born again,
nor to repent, nor to deny themselves, nor to do God's will, but their
own? What is there which a good man would gain by the destruction of
the Christian religion!
I have one question more to suggest with reference to the duty of an
unbeliever towards us as Christians, and it is this, Why should he
disturb our faith, or, as he might term it, our superstition? If he
retorts by asking why we should disturb his unbelief, our answer is
ready--because we wish with our whole soul to share with him the
blessings which God our common Father has for him as well as for
us; because we truly lament the loss to our brother who refuses the
eternal good which he may now enjoy with the whole family of God;
because we love our God, and his God and Saviour, and desire our
brother to know and to love them too; because it is so unjust, so
selfish, so hateful, not to love and obey such a glorious Person as
Jesus Christ, who knows us, loves us, and has died to gain our hearts!
These are some of the reasons, rudely and roughly stated, why we
desire, with all our heart, that every man should believe in Jesus
Christ. But if any man, for any reason which may be beyond our
understanding or sympathy, desires to destroy this faith in all that
is most precious to us, then I ask, not in Christ's name,--for it is
unnecessary to appeal to Him,--but in the name of common sense and
common philanthropy, why he should not only labour to do this, but to
do it without apparently any apprehension of the untold misery which
he must occasion if he succeeds in his attempt? Do not tell us, with a
boast, that "the truth must be spoken, come what may!" Be it so; but
surely the _kind of_ truth which must be spoken must ever regulate the
manner in which it is spoken? Again, I bid you picture to yourselves a
person entering a family whose members were rejoicing in the thought
of a father's return, and announcing the intelligence of that father's
death, with a smile of pity or a sneer of contempt at their ignorant
happiness! Imagine such a one professing to be actuated by a mere love
of truth! Oh! if the terrible duty has been laid upon any one with a
human heart, of announcing to others intelligence which, if true, must
leave a blank to them in the world that can never be filled up, what
tender sympathy, what genuine sorrow becomes him who breaks the heavy
tidings! And such _ought_ to be the feelings of every man who, from
whatever cause, feels called upon to announce that the Christian
religion is false. If he _must_ make known that terrible fact to
believers in Jesus; if he _must_ tell them that the supposed Source of
all their life and joy has no existence, and that their faith in Him
is vain, let this be done with the solemnity and the sorrow which a
true brotherly sympathy would necessarily dictate. If the missionaries
of Christianity are warranted in preaching their gospel with joy, the
missionaries of an infidelity which professes only to destroy and
not to build up, should go forth on their dreadful vocation with the
feeling of martyrs, and with no other notes of triumph than sounds of
lamentation and woe! For if Christianity is false, we are "yet in our
sins, all who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished, and we are
of all men most miserable!"