the child's voice had bidden him 'open and read,' these were the words
upon which he opened, and which sealed his conversion to the faith he
served so nobly--'not in rioting and drunkenness, ... but put ye on the
Lord Jesus Christ.' 'I had no wish,' he tells us, 'to read any
further, nor was there any need. For immediately at the end of this
sentence, as if a light of certainty had been poured into my heart, all
the shadows of doubt were scattered[5].'
[1] 1 Thess. v. 1: 'The day of the Lord so cometh as a thief in the
night.' To know this is to have answer enough to questions about the
times and seasons of the coming (v. 1).
[2] It is interesting to compare this passage with the closely similar
one of Thess. v. 1-4. Cf. Eph. v. 14 ff.; vi. 11.
[3] Christ is 'put on' in baptism by all, Gal. iii. 27; but we all
still need to appropriate what we have received, and so 'put Him on'
for ourselves; cf. Eph. iv. 24; Col. iii. 12.
[4] See app. note G, p. 238, for an admirable prayer by Jeremy Taylor
based on this thought.
[5] _Conf._ viii. 12.
{137}
DIVISION V. Sec. 6. CHAPTER XIV. 1-23.
_Mutual toleration._
St. Paul's practical exhortations show no definite scheme, but flow out
of one another in a natural sequence. He began with the fundamental
moral disposition required by life in the Christian community (xii).
He proceeded to the relation between the Christian community and the
government of the world outside (xiii. 1-7). This led him to lay brief
and vigorous emphasis upon the universal range of Christian obligation
(8-10), and the motive which is to make Christians zealous in rising to
its fulfilment (11-14). Now[1] he comes back to the difficulties which
arise among Christians--the difficulties in actually living together as
members of the same community--difficulties on those small points of
religious observance which seem so unimportant {138} in the abstract,
and which, in the actual experience of intercourse, prove to be so
terribly important, and so easily give rise to a 'crisis in the
Church.' How were the reasonably-minded majority[2], who thought that
all kinds of food were morally indifferent, to behave towards the
scrupulous who would only eat vegetables? How were those Christians,
who recognized no distinction between one day and another, to behave
towards people who still held the mind of the writer of Ecclesiasticus,
that 'some days God had exalted and hallowed, and some he had made
ordinary days[3]'?
The problem of 'lawful meats' had often been before the early
Christians. It could not but have been so, seeing that those among
them, who had passed under Jewish influences had been brought under a
system in which the distinction between clean and unclean meats had
been rigorously observed. True, our Lord had 'made all meats
clean[4],' as He had opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers.
And the vision which reassured St. Peter on the {139} latter point, and
forbade him 'to call any man common or unclean[5],' was expressed in a
form which implied that the same principle would apply to food. But
this fundamental catholic principle, in its sharp opposition to Jewish
particularism, was not accepted without a struggle at every point. How
hotly, for a time, the struggle raged, we dimly perceive in the
narrative of the Acts, and especially in St. Paul's Epistle to the
Galatians[6]. But at the Jerusalem conference the fundamental catholic
principle was unmistakably reaffirmed. Gentiles were to be admitted to
brotherhood without circumcision or the keeping of the law. Henceforth
then the reactionaries had no ground to stand on. The law of clean and
unclean meats had gone with the rest of the Jewish laws. But while the
Gentiles won a complete victory on the main principle, they were
required by the apostolic council to make concessions to Jewish habits
in eating, such as could not affect the main principle. They were to
eat meat killed in the Jewish manner, with the blood thoroughly drained
out. This in itself would probably exclude them from {140} the Gentile
shambles, where also much of the meat which was for sale would have
been offered to idols[7]. By the observance of such a concession,
then, Jew and Gentile were to live and eat together in peace.
The actual enactment of the Jerusalem conference had a limited
application to the Gentile Christians of Antioch and Syria and
Cilicia[8]. But the principle was a vital and universal one: to hold
firm the catholic or 'indifferentist' principle, but to make
concessions for love's sake and to facilitate mutual fellowship. And
this same principle St. Paul soon had reason to apply again at Corinth.
There the problem was not--How could Jew and Gentile live and eat
together? but How far could Gentiles, who had become Christians,
associate with Gentiles who were still adherents of the old religion,
and eat their meats? St. Paul, in answering this question for the
Corinthians, strongly asserts the indifferentist principle--that meat
of all kinds is God's gift and good, and that it can have contracted no
moral pollution through any idolatrous ceremony to which it has been
subjected. No questions, therefore, are to be asked as to its
antecedents. In this physical sense meats which had been {141} offered
to idols might be freely eaten. But when such eating could do harm,
when, for instance, one man points out to another that a particular
portion of food has been part of a sacrifice, and it is plain he will
be scandalized by the eating of it, then the other must abstain[9],
restricting his own lawful liberty for charity and Christian
brotherhood's sake.
Now St. Paul had heard of a new form of the old difficulty at Rome[10].
There was a Jewish asceticism--similar to what is found frequently
among orientals, and was practised in Europe among the
Pythagoreans--which required men to abstain from animal food altogether
and from wine. Such was probably the rule of the Essenes in
Palestine[11], as of the Therapeutae in Egypt, and such was, according
to a very early authority, the rule of St. James, the Lord's brother.
Such a practice, then, had found favour among a minority of Christians
at Rome. And {142} St. Paul in the passage we are now to study, in
principle plainly approves of the indifferentist practice of the
majority. He knows, and _is persuaded in the Lord Jesus_, that nothing
is unclean of itself. It is, he implies, a weak and unduly scrupulous
conscience which makes men vegetarians. But, on the other hand, this
weaker brother--this man with less clear perception of Christian
principle in the matter--must in no way be alienated. He is to be made
welcome. There is no obligation upon him to eat meat. God laid no
such requirement upon him when he became a Christian. 'God received
him.' The Church must continue the like liberality, and not even seek
to pronounce judgement in the matter. In life and death each man is
Christ's servant, and is responsible to God for what he does or does
not do. Therefore let each man simply be faithful to his own
conscience before God in this matter, so that whatever he eats he can
'say his grace,' or 'give thanks,' with a good conscience; and let him
be respectfully tolerant of his brother's practice--the strong not
despising the weak, nor the weak judging and condemning the strong.
So far for liberty. But if, by using our liberty to eat meat, we are
found to run a risk of really {143} troubling our brother, or even
(what is worse) leading him to act against his conscience and eat what
he feels he ought not[12], then we must abstain. This becomes matter
of character and peaceable fellowship and spiritual joy, and these are
the really material things in the kingdom of God. Sooner than do
injury to this really divine cause, sooner than be a hindrance to his
brother, the Christian had better willingly abstain altogether from
flesh and wine too.
In passing St. Paul had noticed another indifferent matter besides the
eating of meats. It was the observance of days. St. Paul undoubtedly
considered that all distinction of high days and common days, all
distinction of the sabbath from other days, had been in principle
abolished by Christianity. For Gentile Christians, like the Galatians,
to be 'observing (Jewish) days, and months, and seasons, and
years[13],' is to show a miserable disposition to fall back upon a
superannuated legal idea of religion--to fall back from the religion of
the Spirit to the religion of the letter; from the substance to the
{144} shadow. For the Christian, in fundamental principle, there are
no 'sacred days,' for all days are indifferently sacred. As instructed
Christian men could eat all meats, so they could regard all days as on
the same level in God's sight. But all Christians had not the full
perception of principle. Among the Galatians, indeed, the tendency to
observe days is viewed more severely as part of a general reactionary
tendency. But at Rome it appears to have represented simply the
practice of a harmless, if imperfectly enlightened, minority, and St.
Paul merely ranks it among things indifferent, which are to be frankly
tolerated. It is to be purely left to the individual conscience.
With these preliminary explanations--which in this case will serve our
purpose better than an analysis--we can read this section without
experiencing any great difficulty.
But him that is weak in faith receive ye, _yet_ not to doubtful
disputations[14]. One man hath faith to eat all things: but he that is
weak eateth herbs. Let not him that eateth set at nought him that
eateth not; and let not him that eateth not judge him that eateth: for
God hath {145} received him. Who art thou that judgest the servant of
another? to his own lord he standeth or falleth. Yea, he shall be made
to stand; for the Lord hath power to make him stand. One man esteemeth
one day above another: another esteemeth every day _alike_. Let each
man be fully assured in his own mind. He that regardeth the day,
regardeth it unto the Lord: and he that eateth, eateth unto the Lord,
for he giveth God thanks; and he that eateth not, unto the Lord he
eateth not, and giveth God thanks. For none of us liveth to himself,
and none dieth to himself. For whether we live, we live unto the Lord;
or whether we die, we die unto the Lord: whether we live therefore, or
die, we are the Lord's. For to this end Christ died, and lived
_again_, that he might be Lord of both the dead and the living. But
thou, why dost thou judge thy brother? or thou again, why dost thou set
at nought thy brother? for we shall all stand before the judgement-seat
of God. For it is written,
As I live, saith the Lord, to me every knee shall bow,
And every tongue shall confess to God[15].
So then each one of us shall give account of himself to God.
Let us not therefore judge one another any more: but judge ye this
rather, that no man put a stumblingblock in his brother's way, or an
occasion of falling. I know, and am persuaded in the Lord Jesus, that
nothing is unclean of itself: save that to him who accounteth anything
to be unclean, to him it is unclean. For if because of meat thy
brother is grieved, thou walkest no longer in love. Destroy not with
thy meat him for whom Christ died. Let not then your good be evil
spoken of: for the kingdom of God is not eating and drinking, but
righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost. For he that herein
{146} serveth Christ is well-pleasing to God, and approved of men. So
then let us follow after things which make for peace, and things
whereby we may edify one another. Overthrow not for meat's sake the
work of God. All things indeed are clean; howbeit it is evil for that
man who eateth with offence. It is good not to eat flesh, nor to drink
wine, nor _to do anything_ whereby thy brother stumbleth. The faith
which thou hast, have thou to thyself before God. Happy is he that
judgeth not himself in that which he approveth. But he that doubteth
is condemned if he eat, because _he eateth_ not of faith; and
whatsoever is not of faith is sin.
1. According to St. Paul a catholic church ought to mean a tolerant
church, and a 'good catholic' a large-hearted Christian. If men of all
races, with all sorts of traditional instincts and habits, were to live
together in close social cohesion in the Christian community--and that
was essential--this must involve much mutual forbearance, much
self-restraint, and deliberate toleration of differences[16]. St. Paul
plainly not merely uses, but loves, the language of toleration. 'One
man eateth, another man eateth not,' 'One man esteemeth one day above
another; another esteemeth every day alike. Let each man be fully
assured in his own mind,' 'Receive ye him ... not with a view to
decisions of disputed questions.' Thoroughly in St. Paul's spirit is
{147} the familiar saying 'in necessary things unity: in those less
than necessary liberty: in all things charity[17].'
In necessary things unity. To St. Paul this principle meant a clear
limit to toleration. There is a common teaching which lies at the
basis of the Church which must not be interfered with, which is
strictly necessary. 'Though we, or an angel from heaven, should preach
unto you any gospel other than that which we preached unto you, let him
be anathema[18].' 'How say some among you that there is no
resurrection of the dead? But if there is no resurrection of the dead,
neither hath Christ been raised: and if Christ hath not been raised,
then is our preaching vain, your faith also is vain[19].' Plainly
there is an essential fundamental creed which must not be trifled with.
The same is true about the moral law. In respect of that also the
Christian body must exercise upon its members the severity of
judgement[20], that 'he that hath done' the evil deed 'might be taken
away from among them,' or excommunicated. Once more, we cannot
conceive St. Paul making the necessity of visible unity a secondary
consideration[21], nor {148} the recognition of the authority of the
apostolic ministry which is to be the centre of unity, nor the
sacraments, which again are not only means of divine grace to the
individual but instruments and bonds of unity. Nor again would St.
Paul undervalue the spirit of obedience to the rules of the Church. He
hates the spirit of heresy or separatism. 'We have no such custom,' he
would say to the recalcitrant, 'neither the churches of God[22].' Once
again, St. Paul is prepared to let everything turn on even a small and
unessential point, if that point has become the symbol of a vital
principle for good or evil. Thus, in itself, 'circumcision was
nothing,' but when among the Galatians the practice of it came to mean
a practical Judaizing--a practical abandonment of the fundamental
Christian principle--then 'Behold, I Paul say unto you, that, if ye
receive circumcision, Christ will profit you nothing[23].'
Here, then, are St. Paul's essentials, as to which he is intolerant--a
fundamental tradition of faith and morals: the maintenance of the unity
of the body by means of the apostolic stewardship, and through the 'one
baptism,' and the 'one loaf': and the spirit of due subordination {149}
which is necessary to corporate life. But in a spirit very unlike what
has at times become prevalent in the Church, he would clearly minimize
the action of authority, and leave large room for the free movement of
conscience in Christians. 'Let us therefore, as many as be perfect, be
thus minded: and if in anything ye are otherwise minded, even this
shall God reveal unto you: only, whereunto we have already attained, by
that same _rule_ let us walk[24].'
Surely it is not very difficult to apply this spirit of St. Paul to our
own time, in view of those subordinate points which excite such deep
animosities. Men are by fundamental disposition, in great measure,
ritualist or puritan, ecclesiastically or individually minded,
disciplinarian or mystical. And the Church should lay on all a certain
common law of doctrine and morals and worship, sufficient to keep them
all together in one body. But, consistently with the coherence of the
body, why should there not be both an ornate and a bare ritual of
worship, both societies of strict observance and individual freedom,
and a wide field of open questions in which we do not even expect
'decisions of doubts'? Instead of my own reflections on this {150}
subject I will ask my readers' attention to the following extracts from
a suggestive book[25].
'At all times there are those to whom what we may call the minor
symbolism of ritual is far from being as helpful as it is to others.
There is the greatest diversity here. Modes of worship, which repel
one man as bleak and bare, attract another by their very simplicity.
The diversity is so natural and so obvious that it calls for neither
apology nor explanation; yet it is easily strained into a cause of
disruption.'
'St. Paul is speaking of strong brethren and of weak; of those who need
earthly guides and of those who do not; of those who attach high value
to rules and forms and helps; and of those for whom ordinances have but
little significance; of mystics and disciplinarians.'
'Again, do we not still want a scientific theology? I mean a theology
which should do what any scientific treatise does. It should lay down
clearly and plainly the essential conditions of unity, and as regards
the unessential should content itself with saying, "Here men differ;
one thinks thus, another thus." ... Ask yourself, What is it that will
carry me, being {151} what I am, to heaven? What is it will carry my
brother here, who is so unlike me, to heaven? What is it that will
carry us both to heaven? There you will find the essential.'
St. Paul, we observe, lays great stress upon honesty of conscience. He
wishes men, even in small matters, seriously to cultivate a conscience
of what is right, as men should do who even in small things expect a
divine judgement; and seriously also to cultivate the faculty of not
interfering with their brother's conscience. ('Hast thou faith? Have
it to thyself.' Do not parade your superior enlightenment.) He is
greatly afraid of people leading others, or being led for mere
agreement's sake, to do what their own conscience does not justify.
And to do even a good thing because another does it whom we want to be
like, without ourselves feeling sure it is good, or with a doubtful
conscience[26], this, St. Paul says, is sin. This warning we really
need to lay to heart in our age, when fashion is such a very strong
force in religion. This individual follows that individual and
'supposes it must be all right, as every one seems to do it'; this
congregation follows that {152} congregation in adopting a popular
practice, without its real basis and justification being considered.
But fashion and the influence of members is a great danger in religion.
'Let every man be fully assured in his own mind.' 'Whatever is not of
faith is sin[27].'
2. Plainly, when St. Paul wrote his epistles, there was no observance
of a Sabbath obligatory upon Christians[28]. But was there none of
Sunday? 'The first day of the week' was already 'the Lord's day,' so
far as that Christians who could not meet to 'break the bread' every
day, met on that day specially to commemorate the death of their risen
Lord till He should come again[29]. It was already sufficiently
distinctive for St. Paul to name it as the appropriate day for laying
by alms for the poor[30]. But these special observances of it were not
obligatory. Christians, when they could meet every day, might make
their eucharist every day. No such observance of Sunday was yet
enjoined as was incompatible with regarding {153} all days of the week
alike. Nothing less than this can satisfy St. Paul's words. In
principle, as Bishop Lightfoot said[31], 'the kingdom of Christ has no
sacred days or seasons, because every time alike is holy.'
Yet the bishop adds, 'appointed days are indispensable to her
efficiency.' This was soon found to be the case. Probably before the
end of the first century, the _Didache_ mentions not only the
observance of Sunday by the eucharistic service, but the observance
also of the Wednesday and Friday fasts. Clement, about the same date,
strongly emphasizes the principle of order in place and time, as still
belonging to Christian worship. 'They, therefore, that make their
offering at the appointed seasons are acceptable and blessed.' The
Canons of Hippolytus show that by the end of the second century there
must have been a great development of ecclesiastical regulations, so
far restraining the individual {154} liberty of the earliest days, and
that, as far as we know, without protest or sense of alarm. Nor need
St. Paul have been in opposition to such church rules. The spirit of
regulation is strong in him[32]. On the other hand, there is no doubt
that the Church has not generally, one might say has hardly ever, been
conscious, as St. Paul was, of the danger of religious regulations as
such. It is so much easier to keep certain rules than to acquire and
maintain a certain mind and spirit and principle of action. In the
history of the Church St. Paul, we feel, would very often have been
saying, 'I am afraid of you: the rules are good in themselves, but
there are dangers attaching to all rules of which you seem to be quite
unconscious. There is a lower sort of religion of forms and
observances, and you may fall back into it as easily as the Galatians.'
But after all, rules for living religiously, private or ecclesiastical,
are, we all know, invaluable, and practically necessary. A man or a
church that should attempt to dispense with them would come to
disaster. It is very difficult to fathom the depth of the mischief
that has come {155} about in the corporate social life of the Church of
England, through the neglect of the surely moderate amount of
regulation which was provided for us by the Prayer Book in the way of
festival and fast days and of daily service. To keep a few simple,
intelligible, religious rules all together gives almost as much as a
common creed the feeling of social coherence. Even the extremest
Paulinist need have no fear so long as the ecclesiastical regulations
do not reach the point of becoming a burden--so long as no one could be
in danger of priding himself on 'acquiring merit' by their mere
observance; and so long also as the principle is kept clearly in view
that 'the rules were made for man and not man for the rules.' But I do
not think there can be any reasonable doubt that St. Paul would
repudiate the idea that any rules of worship and observance, other than
those which are necessarily involved in the administration of the
sacraments, can obtain by prescription a right to permanence. 'They
may be changed according to the diversities of countries, times, and
men's manners.' They were made for man; and the Church or the
churches--with due regard to mutual fellowship--can modify or abolish
them.
{156}
3. 'Overthrow not for meat's sake the work of God.' 'It is good not
to eat flesh nor to drink wine, nor to do anything whereby thy brother
stumbleth.' 'Wherefore, if meat maketh my brother to stumble, I will
eat no flesh for evermore, that I make not my brother to stumble[33].'
Here is the right principle of 'total abstinence' which does not deny
the legitimate use of what it yet permanently abandons for love's sake.
St. Paul would have Timothy use a little wine when it was for his
health's sake, but when health was not in question, he would have all
men ask, not how much liberty in this or that is lawful for them, but
how they can avoid causing offence--how they can do most good. This
principle admits of application in many directions. For instance, it
may be very hard to determine why certain minor forms of gambling are
wrong, or whether they are positively wrong. But St. Paul would have
the other question asked--Can it be denied that the best way to avoid
leading my brother into one of the most common dangers of our time, is
to keep altogether free from a habit which in any case can do no good
to body or mind?
{157}