CHAPTER II

THE BIBLE

In terms of the definition of religion given in the last chapter, we may

describe the Bible as the record of the progressive religious experience

of Israel culminating in Jesus Christ, a record selected by the

experience of the Jewish and Christian Church, and approving itself to

Christian experience today as the Self-revelation of the living God.

The Bible is a _literary_ record. It is not so much a book as a library,

containing a great variety of literary forms--legends, laws, maxims,

hymns, sermons, visions, biographies, letters, etc. Judged solely as

literature its writings have never been equalled in their kind, much

less surpassed. Goethe declared, "Let the world progress as much as it

likes, let all branches of human research develop to their utmost,

nothing will take the place of the Bible--that foundation of all culture

and all education." Happily for the English-speaking world the

translation into our tongue, standardized in the King James' Bible, is

a universally acknowledged classic; and scarcely a man of letters has

failed to bear witness to its charm and power. While most translations

lose something of the beauty and meaning of the original, there are some

parts of the English Bible which, as literature and as religion, excel

the Hebrew or Greek they attempt to render.

The Bible is a record of _religious experience_. It has but one central

figure from _Genesis_ to _Revelation_--God. But God is primarily in the

experience, only secondarily in the record. All thought succeeds in

grasping but a fraction of consciousness; thought is well symbolized in

Rodin's statue, where out of a huge block of rough stone a small finely

chiselled head emerges. With all their skill we cannot credit the men of

faith who are behind the Bible pages with making clear to themselves but

a small part of God's Self-disclosure to them. And when they came to

wreak thought upon expression, so clear and well-trained a mind as

Paul's cannot adequately utter what he feels and thinks. His sentences

strain and sometimes break; he ends with such expressions as "the love

of Christ which passeth knowledge," and God's "unspeakable gift."

The divine revelation which is in the experience has been at times

identified with the thought that interprets it, or even with the words

which attempt to describe it. "Faith in the thing grows faith in the

report"; and fantastic doctrines of the verbal inerrancy of the Bible

have been held by numbers of earnest Christians. Certain recent

scholars, acknowledging that no version of the Bible now existing is

free from error, have put forward the theory that the original

manuscripts of these books, as they came from their authors' hands, were

so completely controlled by God as to be without mistake. Since no man

can ever hope to have access to these autographs, and would not be sure

that he had them in his hands if he actually found them, this theory

amounts to saying with the nursery rhyme:

Oats, peas, beans, and barley grows,

Where you, nor I, nor nobody knows.

We have not only to collate the manuscripts we possess and try to

reconstruct the likeliest text, but when we know what the authors

probably wrote, we must press back of their language and ideas to the

religious experience they attempt to express.

As writers the Biblical authors do not claim a special divine

assistance. Luke, in his preface to his gospel, merely asserts that he

has taken the pains of a careful historian, and Paul and his various

amanuenses did their best with a language in which they were not

literary experts. The Bible reader often has the impression that its

authors' religious experience, like Milton's sculptured lion, half

appears "pawing to get free his hinder parts." Or, to change the

metaphor, now one portion of their communion with God is brought to view

and now another, as one might stand before a sea that was illuminated

from moment to moment by flashes of lightning.

The Bible is the record of an _historic_ religious experience--that of

Israel which led up to the consciousness of God in Jesus and His

followers. The investigation of the sources of Hebrew religion has shown

that many of its beliefs came from the common heritage of the Semitic

peoples; and there are numerous points of similarity between Israel's

faith and that of other races. This ought not to surprise us, since its

God is the God of all men. But the more resemblances we detect, the

greater the difference appears. The same legend in Babylonia and in

Israel has such unlike spiritual content; the identical rite among the

Hebrews and among their neighbors developed such different religious

meaning. This particular stream of religious life has a unity and a

character of its own. Its record brings into the succeeding centuries,

and still produces in our world, a distinctive relationship with God.

The Bible is a record of _progressive_ religious experience. As every

poet with a new message has to create his own public, so it would seem

that God had slowly to evolve men who would respond to His ever higher

inspirations. When scholars arrange for us the Biblical material in its

historical order, the advance becomes much more apparent. Its God grows

from a tribal deity to the God of the whole world; from a localized

divinity dwelling on Sinai or at Jerusalem, as the Greeks placed their

gods on Olympus, into the Spirit who fills heaven and earth; from "a

man of war" and a tribal lawgiver into the God whose nature is love. "By

experience," said Roger Ascham, "we find out a short way by a long

wandering," and it took at least ten centuries to pass from the God of

Moses to the Father of Jesus Christ.

Obviously we must interpret, and at times correct, the less developed by

the more perfect consciousness of God. The Scriptures, like the land in

which their scenes are laid, are a land of hills and valleys, of lofty

peaks of spiritual elevation and of dark ravines of human passion and

doubt and cruelty; and to view it as a level plain of religious equality

is to make serious mistakes. _Ecclesiastes_ is by no means on the same

level with _Isaiah_, nor _Proverbs_ with the _Sermon on the Mount_.

Doctrines and principles that are drawn from texts chosen at random from

all parts of the Bible are sure to be unworthy statements of the highest

fellowship with God.

Nor does mere chronological rearrangement of the material do justice to

the progress; there was loss as well as gain. All mountain roads on

their way to the summit go down as well as up; and their advance must

be judged not from their elevation at any particular point, but from

their successful approach towards their destination. The experiences of

Israel reach their apex in the faith of Jesus and of His immediate

followers; and they find their explanation and unity in Him. In form the

Jewish Bible, unlike the Christian, has no climax; it stops, ours ends.

Christians judge the progress in the religious experience of Israel by

its approximation to the faith and purpose of Jesus.

The Bible is a _selected_ record of religious experience. Old Testament

historians often refer to other books which have not been preserved; and

there were letters of St. Paul which were allowed to perish, and

gospels, other than our four, which failed to gain a place in the Canon.

A discriminating instinct was at work, judging between writings and

writings. We know little of the details of the process by which it

compiled the Old Testament. The Jewish Church spoke of its Scriptures as

"the Law, the Prophets, and the Writings"; and it is probable that in

this order it made collections of those books which it found expressed

and reproduced its faith. In the time of Jesus the Old Testament, as we

know it, was practically complete, although there still lingered some

discussion whether _Esther, Ecclesiastes_ and the _Song of Songs_ were

sacred books. We should like to know far more than students have yet

discovered of the reasons which Jewish scholars gave for admitting some

and rejecting other writings; but, whatever their alleged reasons, the

books underwent a struggle for recognition, and the fittest, according

to the judgment of the corporate religious experience of the devout,

survived.

The first Christians found the Jewish Bible in use as containing "the

oracles of God"; and as it had been their Lord's Bible it became theirs.

No one of the first generation of Christians thought of adding other

Scriptures. In that age the Coming of the Messiah and His Kingdom in

power were daily expected, and there seemed no need of writing anything

for succeeding times. Paul's letters were penned to meet current needs

in the churches, and were naturally kept, reread and passed from church

to church. As the years went by and disciples were added who had never

known the Lord in the days of His flesh, a demand arose for collections

of His sayings. Then gospels were written, and the New Testament

literature came into existence, although no one yet thought of these

writings as Holy Scripture.

Three factors, however, combined to give these books an authoritative

position. In the Church services _reading_ was a part of worship. What

should be read? A letter of an apostle, a selection of Jesus' sayings, a

memoir of His life, an account of the earliest days of the Church.

Certain books became favorites because they were most helpful in

creating and stimulating Christian faith and life; and they won their

own position of respect and authority.

Some books by reason of their _authorship_--Paul or Peter, for

instance--or because they contained the life and teaching of Jesus,

naturally held a place of reverence. This eventually led to the

ascription to well-known names of books that were found helpful which

had in fact been written by others. For example, the _Epistle to the

Hebrews_ was ultimately credited to Paul, and the _Second Epistle of

Peter_ to the Apostle Peter.

And, again, _controversies_ arose in which it was all important to agree

what were the sources to which appeal should be made. The first

collection of Christian writings, of which we know, consisting of ten

letters of Paul and an abridged version of the _Gospel according to

Luke_, was put forth by Marcion in the Second Century to defend his

interpretation of Christianity--an interpretation which the majority of

Christians did not accept. It was inevitable that a fuller collection of

writings should be made to refute those whose faith appeared incomplete

or incorrect.

In the last quarter of the Second Century we find established the

conception of the Bible as consisting of two parts--the Old and the New

Covenant. This meant that the Christian writings so acknowledged would

be given at least the same authority as was then accorded to the Jewish

Bible. Early in the Fourth Century the historian, Eusebius, tells us how

the New Testament stood in his day. He divides the books into three

classes--those acknowledged, those disputed, and those rejected. In the

second division he places the epistles of _James_ and _Jude_, the

_Second Epistle of Peter_ and the _Second_ and _Third_ of _John_; in the

first all our other books, but he says of the _Revelation of John_, that

some think that it should be put in the third division; in the third he

names a number of books which are of interest to us as showing what some

churches regarded as worthy of a place in the New Testament, and used as

they did our familiar gospels and epistles. By the end of that century,

under the influence of Athanasius and the Church in Rome, the New

Testament as it now stands became almost everywhere recognized.

The reason given for the acceptance or rejection of a book was its

_apostolic authorship_. Only books that could claim to have been written

by an apostle or an apostolic man were considered authoritative. We now

know that not all the books could meet this requirement; but the

Church's real reason was its own discriminating spiritual experience

which approved some books and refused others. Canon Sanday sums up the

selective process by saying: "In the fixing of the Canon, as in the

fixing of doctrine, the decisive influence proceeded from the bishops

and theologians of the period 325-450. But behind them was the practice

of the greater churches; and behind that again was not only the lead of

a few distinguished individuals, but the instinctive judgment of the

main body of the faithful. It was really this instinct that told in the

end more than any process of quasi-scientific criticism. And it was well

that it should be so, because the methods of criticism are apt to be,

and certainly would have been when the Canon was formed, both faulty and

inadequate, whereas instinct brings into play the religious sense as a

whole. Even this is not infallible; and it cannot be claimed that the

Canon of the Christian Sacred Books is infallible. But experience has

shown that the mistakes, so far as there have been mistakes, are

unimportant; and in practice even these are rectified by the natural

gravitation of the mind of man to that which it finds most nourishing

and most elevating."

In their attitude towards the Canon all Christians agree that the books

deemed authoritative must record the historic revelation which

culminated in Jesus and the founding of the Christian Church. A Roman

Catholic may derive more religious stimulus from the _Spiritual

Exercises_ of Ignatius Loyola than from the _Book of Lamentations_, and

a Protestant from Bunyan's _Pilgrim's Progress_ than from the _Second

Epistle of John_; but neither would think of inserting these books in

the Canon. He who finds as much religious inspiration in some modern

poet or essayist as in a book of the Bible, may be correctly reporting

his own experience; but he is confusing the purpose of the Bible if he

suggests the substitution of these later prophets for those of ancient

Israel. The Bible is the spiritually selected record of a particular

Self-disclosure of God in a national history which reached its religious

goal in Jesus Christ.

Romanists and Protestants differ as to how many books constitute the

Canon, the former including the so-called _Apocrypha_--books in the

Greek translation but not in the original Hebrew Bible. And they differ

more fundamentally in the principle underlying the selection of the

books. The Roman Catholic holds that it is the Church which officially

has made the Bible, while the Protestant insists that the books possess

spiritual qualities of their own which gave them their place in the

authoritative volume, a place which the Church merely recognized.

Luther, in his celebrated dispute with Dr. Eck, asserted: "The Church

cannot give more authority or force to a book than it has in itself. A

Council cannot make that be Scripture which in its own nature is not

Scripture." The Council of Trent, answering the Reformers, in 1546,

issued an official decree defining what is Scripture: "The holy,

ecumenical and general Synod of Trent, legitimately convened in the Holy

Ghost ...receives and venerates with an equal piety and reverence all the

books as well of the Old as of the New Testament ...together with the

traditions pertaining both to faith and to morals, as proceeding from

the mouth of Christ, or dictated by the Holy Spirit, and preserved in

the Church Catholic by continuous succession." Then follows a catalogue

of the books, and an anathema on all who shall not receive them "as they

are contained in the old vulgate Latin version."

Over against this the Protestant takes the position that the books of

the Scripture came to be recognized as authoritative exactly as

Shakespeare, Milton and Wordsworth have been accorded their place in

English literature. It was the inherent merit of _Hamlet_ and _Paradise

Lost_ and the _Ode on the Intimations of Immortality_ that led to their

acknowledgment. No official body has made Shakespeare a classic; his

works have won their own place. No company of men of letters officially

organized keeps him in his eminent position; his plays keep themselves.

The books of the Bible have gained their positions because they could

not be barred from them; they possess power to recanonize themselves.

Some are much less valuable than others, and it is, perhaps, a debatable

question whether one or two of the apocryphal books--_First Maccabees_,

or _Ecclesiasticus_, for instance--are not as spiritually useful as the

_Song of Solomon_ or _Esther_; but of the chief books we may

confidentially affirm that, if one of them were dug up for the first

time today, it would gradually win a commanding place in Christian

thought. And it is a similar social experience of the Church--Jewish

and Christian--which has recognized their worth. The modernist Tyrrell

has written: "It cannot be denied that in the life of that formless

Church, which underlies the hierarchic organization, God's Spirit

exercises a silent but sovereign criticism, that His resistlessly

effectual judgment is made known, not in the precise language of

definition and decree, but in the slow manifestation of practical

results; in the survival of what has proved itself life-giving; in the

decay and oblivion of all whose value was but relative and temporary."

In a sense each Protestant Christian is entitled to make up a Bible of

his own out of the books which record the historical discoveries of God.

He is not bound by the opinions of others, however many and venerable;

and unless a book commends itself to his own spiritual judgment, he is

under no obligation to receive it as the word of God to him. As a matter

of fact every Christian does make such a Bible of his own; the

particular passages which "grip" him and reproduce their experiences in

him, they, and they alone, are his Bible. Luther was quickened into

life by the epistles of Paul, but spoke slightingly of _James_; many

socially active Christians in our day live in the prophets and the first

three gospels, and almost ignore the rest of the Bible. But individual

taste, while it has preferred authors and favorite works, does not think

of denying to Milton, or Wordsworth, or Shelley, their place among

English classics; a social judgment has assigned them that. A man who is

not hopelessly conceited will regret his inability to appreciate a

single one of the great authors, and will try to enlarge his sympathies.

The Christian will, with entire naturalness, be loyal to so much of the

Bible as "finds him," and humbly hope and endeavor to be led into ampler

ranges of spiritual life, that he may "apprehend with all saints" the

breadth, length, depth and height of the historic Self-revelation of

God.

The Bible is thus _a standard of religious experience_. If there is any

question as to what man's life with God ought to be, it can be referred

to the life recorded in these books. But men have often made the Bible

much more; confusing experience with its interpretation in some

particular epoch, they used the Bible as a treasury of proof texts for

doctrines, or of laws for conduct, or of specific provisos for Church

government and worship. They forgot that the writers of the early

chapters of _Genesis_, in describing their faith in God's relationship

to His world and to man and to history, had to express that faith in

terms of the existing traditions concerning the creation, the fall, the

deluge, the patriarchs. Their faith in God is one thing; the scientific

and historic accuracy of the stories in which they utter it is quite

another thing. They did not distinguish between Paul's life with God in

Christ, and the philosophy he had learned in Gamaliel's classroom, or

picked up in the thought of the Roman world of his day. Paul's religious

life is one thing, his theology in which he tries to explain and state

it is another thing. They read the plans that were made for the

organization of the first churches, and hastily concluded that these

were intended to govern churches in all ages. The chief divisions of the

Church claim for their form of government--papal, episcopal,

presbyterian, congregational--a Biblical authority. The religious life

of the early churches is one thing; their faith and hope and love ought

to abide in the Church throughout all generations; the method of their

organization may have been admirable for their circumstances, but there

is no reason we should consider it binding upon us in the totally

different circumstances of our day. Latterly social reformers have been

attempting to show that the Bible teaches some form of economic theory,

like socialism or communism. It lays down fundamental principles of

brotherhood, of justice, of peaceableness, but the economic or political

systems in which these shall be embodied, we must discover for ourselves

in each age. It is the norm of our life with God; but it is not a

standard fixing our scientific views, our theological opinions, our

ecclesiastical polity, our economic or political theories. It shows

forth the spirit we should manifest towards God and towards one another

as individuals, and families, and nations; "and where the Spirit of the

Lord is, there is liberty."

This brings us to the question of the _authority_ of the Bible. There

are two views of its authority; one that it contains mysteries beyond

our reason, which are revealed to us, and guaranteed to us as true,

either by marvellous signs such as miracles and fulfilled prophecies, or

by the infallible pronouncement of the official Church; the other is

that the Bible is the revelation of self-evidencing truth. The test of a

revelation is simply that it reveals. The evidence of daylight lies in

the fact that it enables us to see, and as we live in the light we are

more and more assured that we really do see. Advocates of the former

position say: "If anything is in the Bible, it must not be questioned;

it must simply be accepted and obeyed." Advocates of the latter view

say: "If it is in the Bible, it has been tried and found valuable by a

great many people; question it as searchingly as you can, and try it for

yourself, and see whether it proves itself true or not."

These two views came into collision in the struggle for a larger faith

which we call the Reformation. Augustine had stated the position which

became traditional when he wrote, "I would not believe in the Gospel

without the authority of the Church." But Luther insisted on the

contrary: "Thou must not place thy decision on the Pope, or any other;

thou must thyself be so skilful that thou can'st say, 'God says this,

not that.' Thou must bring conscience into play, that thou may'st boldly

and defiantly say, 'That is God's word; on that will I risk body and

life, and a hundred thousand necks if I had them.' Therefore no one

shall turn me from the word which God teaches me, and that must I know

as certainly as that two and three make five, that an ell is longer than

a half. That is certain, and though all the world speak to the contrary,

still I know that it is not otherwise. Who decides me there? No man, but

only _the Truth_ which is so perfectly certain that nobody can deny it."

And Calvin took the same ground: "As to their question, How are we to

know that the Scriptures came from God, if we cannot refer to the decree

of the Church, we might as well ask, How are we to distinguish light

from darkness, white from black, bitter from sweet."

The truth of the religious experiences recorded in the Bible is

self-evidencing to him who shares these experiences, and to no one else.

The Bible has, in a sense, to create or evoke the capacities by which

it is appreciated and verified. It is inspired only to those who are

themselves willing to be controlled by similar inspirations; it is the

word of God only to those who have ears for God's voice. There is a

difference between the phrases: "It is certain," and "I am certain." In

other matters we appeal to the collective opinion of sane people; but

such knowledge does not suffice in religion. Our fellowship with God

must be our own response to our highest inspirations. The Bible is

authoritative for us only in so far as we can say: "I have entered into

the friendship of the God, whose earlier friendship with men it records,

and know Him, who speaks as personally to my conscience through its

pages, as He spake to its writers. The Spirit that ruled them, the

Spirit of trust and service, controls me." This is John Calvin's

position. "It is acting a preposterous part," he writes in his

_Institutes_, "to endeavor to produce sound faith in the Scriptures by

disputations. Religion appearing to profane men to consist wholly in

opinion, in order that they may not believe anything on foolish or

slight grounds, they wish and expect it to be proved that Moses and the

prophets spake by divine inspiration; but as God alone is a sufficient

witness of Himself in His own word, so also the word will never gain

credit in the hearts of men, till it is confirmed by the testimony of

the Spirit."

If, then, the authority of the Bible depends upon the witness of the

Spirit within our own souls, its authority has definite limits. We can

verify spiritually the truth of a religious experience by repeating that

experience; but we cannot verify spiritually the correctness of the

report of some alleged event, or the accuracy of some opinion. We can

bear witness to the truthfulness of the record of the consciousness of

shame and separation from God in the story of the fall of Adam and Eve;

we must leave the question of the historicity of the narrative and the

scientific view of the origin of the race in a single pair to the

investigations of scholars. Our own knowledge of Jesus Christ as a

living Factor in our careers confirms the experience His disciples had

of His continued intercourse with them subsequent to His crucifixion;

but the manner of His resurrection and the mode in which _post mortem_

He communicated with them must be left to the untrammelled study of

historical students. The religious message of a miraculous happening,

like the story of Jonah or of the raising of Lazarus, we can test and

prove: disobedience brings disaster, repentance leads to restoration;

faith in Christ gives Him the chance to be to us the resurrection and

the life. The reported events must be tested by the judgments of

historic probability which are applied to all similar narratives, past

or present. The Bible's authority is strictly _religious_; it has to do

solely with God and man's life with man in Him; and, when read in the

light of its culmination in Christ, it approves itself to the Spirit of

Christ within Christians as a correct record of their experiences of

God, and the mighty inspiration to such experiences. Surely it is no

belittling limitation to say of this unique book that it is an authority

_only on God_. Every fundamental question of life is answered, every

essential need of the soul is met, when God is found, and becomes our

Life, our Home.

And with such _self-evidencing_ authority in the books of the Bible, it

is a question of minor importance who were their authors and when they

were written--the questions which the literary historical criticism

undertakes to answer. Luther put the matter conclusively when he said in

his vigorous fashion: "That which does not teach Christ is not

apostolic, though Peter or Paul should have said it; on the contrary

that which preaches Christ is apostolic, even if it should come from

Judas, Annas, Pilate and Herod." Some persons have been greatly troubled

in the last generation by being told that scholars did not consider the

conventionally received authorships of many of the books of the Bible

correct, but thought that Moses did not write the Pentateuch, or David

the _Psalms_, or Solomon the _Proverbs_ or _Ecclesiastes_, or Isaiah and

Jeremiah more than parts of the books that bear their names, or John and

Peter all the writings ascribed to them. We are not to judge of writings

by their authors, but by their intrinsic value. Suppose Shakespeare did

not write more than a fraction of the plays associated with his name, or

that he wrote none of them at all; the plays themselves remain as

valuable as ever; their interpretation of life in its tragedy and

humor, its heights and its depths, is as true as it ever was. Whatever

views of their composition or authorship may be reached by literary

experts, the Scriptures possess exactly the same spiritual power they

have always possessed. The Lord has been "our dwelling-place in all

generations," whether Moses or some other psalmist penned that line; and

Jesus is the bread of life, whether the apostle John or some other

disciple whom Jesus loved records that experience. Scholars may make the

meaning of the Scriptures much plainer by their searching studies; and

they must be encouraged to investigate as minutely and rigorously as

they can. To be fearful that the Bible cannot stand the test of the

keenest study, is to lack faith in its divine vitality. To found a

"Bible Defence League" is as unbelieving as to inaugurate a society for

the protection of the sun. Like the sun the Bible defends itself by

proving a light to the path of all who walk by it. The only defence it

needs is to be used; and the only attack it dreads is to be left unread.

And in speaking of the authority of the Bible we cannot forget that it

is not for Christians the supreme authority. "One is your Master, even

Christ." We must be cautious in speaking of the Bible, as we commonly

do, as "the word of God." That title belongs to Jesus. The Bible

contains the word of God; He is for us _the_ Word of God. We dare not

overlook His untrammelled attitude towards the Scriptures of His people,

who let His own spiritual discernment determine whether a Scripture was

His Father's living voice to Him, or only something said to men of old

time, and given temporarily for the hardness of hearts that could

respond to no higher ideal. As His followers, we dare not use less

freedom ourselves. We test every Scripture by the Spirit of Christ in

us: whatever is to us unchristlike in Joshua or in Paul, in a psalmist

or in the seer on Patmos, is not for us the word of our God: whatever

breathes the Spirit of Jesus from _Genesis_ to _Revelation_ is to us our

Father's Self-revealing speech.

Nor do we think that God ceased speaking when the Canon of the Bible was

complete. How could He, if He be the living God? "Truth," said Milton,

"is compared in Scripture to a streaming fountain; if her waters flow

not in a perpetual progression, they sicken into a muddy pool of

conformity and tradition." The fountain of God's Self-revealing still

streams. Religious truth comes to us from all quarters--from events of

today and contemporaneous prophets, from living epistles at our side and

the still small voice within; but as a simple matter of fact, its main

flow is still through this book. When we want God--want Him for our

guidance, our encouragement, our correction, our comfort, our

inspiration--we find Him in the record of these ancient experiences of

His Self-unveiling. When near his death, after years of agony on his

bed, when he himself had become a changed man, Heinrich Heine wrote: "I

attribute my enlightenment entirely and simply to the reading of a book.

Of a book? Yes! and it is an old homely book, modest as nature--a book

which has a look modest as the sun which warms us, as the bread which

nourishes us--a book as full of love and blessing as the old mother who

reads in it with her trembling lips, and this book is _the_ Book, the

Bible. With right is it named the Holy Scriptures. He who has lost his

God can find Him again in this book; and he who has never known Him, is

here struck by the breath of the Divine Word."

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