CHAPTER VI

THE BOOK OF THE CROSS

If the central feature of the Scriptures is their idea of God, and if

the climax of the biblical revelation is Christ, the greatest fact

about Christ from the point of view of the Bible is his cross. We say

_fact_ advisedly, for we are not dealing with the theories that have

sprung up to interpret the meaning of the cross. We are trying to deal

solely with the direct impressions which seem to have been made upon

the scriptural writers as to the place of the cross in the revealing

movement.

We said in the last chapter that the Scriptures reach their climax in

the doctrine that God is in Christ. The cross of Christ carries to most

effective revelation the Christlike character of God. While we are not

treating now the various creedal dogmas as to the person of Christ, we

must not forget that those dogmas have essayed as part of their task

the bringing of God close to men. The truth embodied in the text that

the Lamb was slain from the foundation of the world is essential to

knowing the Scriptures. We have seen that even as a warrior Jehovah was

thought of as willing to bear his part of the burdens of the chosen

people. We have seen growing the idea that Jehovah was under moral

obligation to carry through the uplifting work which he had begun. We

have seen prophets attain to glimpses of the meaning of suffering for

the divine life, and we have beheld the culmination in the suffering of

Christ. In those perplexing phrases of the creeds like, "Very God of

very God," the aim of the church has been perfectly clear--to guard the

scriptural idea that God was so truly in Christ that the sufferings of

Christ were the sufferings of God. Even when least intelligible the

pain of men becomes more easily borne if men can believe that in some

real sense their pain is also the pain of God. That God is Christlike

in capacity to suffer is in itself a revelation of no small consequence.

In the cross of Christ we see exalted with surpassing power the belief

that God acts out of righteousness in his relation to the universe and

to men. It must needs be that Christ suffer. The writers seem unable to

escape the conviction that they are beholding the working of divinely

inevitable moral necessities. These moral obligations are not to be

conceived of as external to God or imposed on him from outside of

himself. In the Scriptures they seem, rather, to be expressions of his

own nature. When the writers of theories about the cross lay stress on

those profound obligations of God toward moral law which must be

discharged in the work of redemption, the Scriptural basis underneath

such theories is the implication that God, by the very fact of what he

is, must act righteously. His power is not his own in such sense that

he can act from arbitrary or self-centered motives. The Judge of all

the earth must do right, at whatever cost to himself. The Scriptures

keep close to the thought of God as a supremely powerful Being under

supreme responsibility in the use of his power. If we can believe the

Scripture that in Christ we see God, and that the bearing, of Christ

during his suffering reveals really and uniquely the bearing of God

himself, we have a revelation of the grasp with which moral

responsibility holds the Almighty against even any momentary slip into

arbitrariness. Sometimes we hear the sufferings of Christ preached as a

pattern of nonresistance for men. It is permissible thus to interpret

the cross within limitations; but this is not the essential aspect of

the cross, as explaining its hold on men. The all-important doctrine as

to the use of power is hinted at in the Master's word that he had but

to call for legions of angels if he so chose. Under most extreme

provocation the forces of the Almighty held to their appointed task. If

the Almighty had been conceived of as a Despot or an Egotist, he would

have been expected to resort at once to revengeful violence in the

presence of such insults as those of the persecutors of the Son of God.

The Source of all activity can hardly be conceived of as passive; but

the passivity of the Christ of the cross suggests that no outrage by

men can divert the almighty power from its moral purpose. This is

really a gathering together and lifting on high of the doctrine of the

Sermon on the Mount, that God maketh the sun to shine upon the just and

the unjust, and causeth his rain to fall on the evil and the good. That

is to say, while the Bible thinks of the cross as laying bare the

Almighty's reaction against evil, it also thinks of that cross as

showing a God who will not be disturbed by any merely "personal"

considerations. We behold the Almighty's use of power for the advance

of a moral kingdom. The Almighty is set before us as exerting all his

power for the relief of men. The cross makes the profoundest revelation

of the moral fixedness and self-control of God so long as we hold to

the scriptural representation. It is to be regretted that many

theological theories break away from the Scripture basis and build upon

assumptions which are artificial, not to say unmoral: or, rather, in

their striving after system they get away from the atmosphere of moral

suggestiveness with which the Gospels and Epistles surround the cross.

That God will do his part in the redemption of men is set before us in

the cross. That part can be nothing short of making men yearn to be

like Christ and of aiding them in their struggle for the Christlike

character. It will be remembered that in the last chapter we called

attention to the hopelessness of the Christian ideal viewed as an ideal

in itself without a dynamic to help men to realize the ideal. If Christ

is only to reveal to us the character toward which men are to strive,

we are in despair. That one man has reached such perfection is in

itself no promise that other men may reach that perfection. Moreover,

the excellence of Christ is not only a moral excellence; or if it is

moral excellence, that excellence involves a balance of intellectual

attributes which is for us practically out of reach. Now, Christ is the

ideal, but the ideal is one toward which we not only labor in our own

strength, but one whose attainment by us is an object of solicitude for

God himself. And so we see in the cross a patience which will bear with

men to the utmost, and which will reenforce them as they press toward

the goal. The glory of Christianity is largely hi the paradox that it

sets before men an unattainable ideal and then commands them to attain

the ideal. If the cross is nothing but a revelation of an ideal for

men, this paradox is insoluble and intolerable. In the scriptural light

of the cross, however, we catch the glory not of an abstract ideal, but

of a Father's love for his children--not of the commands of conscience

in the abstract, but of the desires of a personal Friend who will lift

men as they stumble and fall. The ground for this patience seems as we

read to be in the very nature of God himself. God has brought men into

this world without consulting them, he has dowered them with the

terrific boon of freedom, he has set them in hard places; but he has

done this out of a moral and loving purpose. He therefore makes more

allowances for men than exacting men ever can make for themselves. He

puts at the service of men so much of his power as they can appropriate

by their moral effort. The Christ of the cross is taught as the truth

about God--the God who is at once the supremely real and the supremely

ideal places his powers at the service of men who would make their

Christ-ideal progressively real in themselves.

The power of the Bible over men centers around the teaching that the

cross not only reveals God as morally bound to redeem men, but that it

also shows us the divine aim in redemption. Men are to be redeemed by

seeking for forgiveness in the name of the moral life set on high by

the cross, but the repentant soul is to show its sincerity by devotion

to the task and spirit of cross-bearing. The aim of the cross is to

bring men together into a fellowship of the cross, in a fellowship of

suffering for the sake of the moral triumph to be won at the end. We

are accustomed to think of suffering as implying the possibility of

joy. The man who can feel keen sorrow can feel keen joy; they who have

the power to weep have also the power to laugh. In the final kingdom

the weeping shall be turned into joy. But, according to the Scriptures,

it is not necessary for the disciples to wait until the consummation

before entering into the joy of their Lord. There is an entrance to the

divine mind through bearing the cross. Those who desired to learn of

Christ as true disciples were expected to take up the cross and carry

it daily. The Master also declared that the disciples were to think of

themselves as blessed when they endured persecution for righteousness'

sake, for men had persecuted the prophets in all ages. The implication

is that knowledge of and sympathy with the prophets came out of

cross-bearing like that of the prophets. To use a simple illustration:

a student of the careers of the leaders of any reform might gather a

mass of information about the reformers in an outside kind of fashion,

as by the study of books, or by visits to the scenes of their

struggles. Such a student, however, could not master the inner spirit

of a reformer's life until he himself had battled for some cause at

risk to himself. So the man who seeks to bear the cross of Christ is on

the path to sympathetic inner knowledge of the spirit of Christ. In our

second chapter we called attention to the truth that approach to

knowledge of God is through the doing of the will of God. Doing of the

will, according to Jesus, means much more than just a round of good

deeds. It means carrying the burdens which are inevitable in

cross-bearing. There is good reason for believing that the very highest

step in spiritual learning is taken only through the willingness to

bear the cross. In our modern educational systems we lay varying

degrees of stress upon the importance of different methods of acquiring

knowledge. There is at the bottom of the scale the method of mastering

the instruction of the teacher by attention and reflection. There is,

next, the method of learning through one's own experiment--through

using microscope or telescope or textbook for oneself. There are,

further, the social aids to the quickening of the mind as groups of

students study and discuss together. But the deepest knowledge comes as

the student feels his sympathy and feeling involved. If he must pay

himself out for the acquisition of the truth, or if he must defend his

conclusions at great cost to himself, this experience which involves

the feeling involves also the sharpening of the intellect. The eyes of

the soul are opened to the subtler intuitions. Thus it is in the

revelations of the divine purpose in the Scriptures. It is hard to make

out how anybody can hope to master a revelation of a cross-bearing God

without himself being a cross-bearer. In the New Testament narratives

of Passion Week the Master is reported as winning his surest

convictions of the presence of God and of the victory of his truth at

the very instant when he entered into the extreme depths of suffering.

In the after days it was when the saints faced stoning that they saw

the heavens opening; it was the apostle who had suffered hardships

almost too numerous to mention who got the most positive conviction of

the reward which awaited him. In the school of Christ the very heaviest

stress must fall upon the indispensability of cross-bearing as a means

to understanding.

Not only does the biblical revelation see in the cross of Christ the

culminating manifestation of the character of God, and of the purpose

of God in redemption, but it also shows to us the divine method in

helping men. We have spoken of those who dwell upon the Master's

nonresistance as a model of passivity in the presence of evil. The

example of Christ when thus treated is in danger of being

misinterpreted. The Christ of the cross was passive so far as physical

force was concerned; but he was never more intensely active in the

higher ranges of his faculties--in self-control and in alertness to the

finer whisperings of the spirit. The Christ's non-resistance to the

physical might of evil is not to be interpreted as acquiescence on the

part of the Divine toward the ravages of evil, but, rather, as the

divine method of thwarting evil by allowing it to reveal itself. No

amount of preaching about the nature of evil can equal in eloquence the

self-revelations of that nature as it works itself out into expression.

While in a degree the self-revelation of evil put forth against Christ

was unique, yet we must remember that the sins which put Christ to

death are just those commonest in all time. Judas was disappointed. He

carried spite no more tenaciously than the ordinary heart is capable of

treasuring it. Caiaphas desired simply to hold his own position and

preserve the peace of his nation. Very likely the type of opinion in

the midst of which Caiaphas moved would have pronounced that he

rendered a disagreeable, but nevertheless necessary patriotic service

in his condemnation of Christ. Pilate too meant well, but was afraid of

the crowd. His friends may have commended his administrative wisdom in

allowing the people to have their own way. It was the play of just such

ordinary forces of sin against an extraordinary holiness that made it

impossible for the mightiest revelation ever vouchsafed to man to work

through the earthly activity of Jesus for more than a few months. The

Scripture does not have much to do with abstract sins; with concrete

sins of men as we actually find them, it has much to do.

The Scriptures make it very clear that there is something which

satisfies God himself in the work of redemption. God acts out of moral

obligation, out of self-respect, out of love. But he acts always in

respect for men as free moral beings. The cross appeals to the free

spirit of men to behold the nature of evil, and to flee from that evil

toward their redeeming God. If the redemption is to be a moral

redemption, the last detail of the method must be moral. The power of

the Almighty must not be used to break down freedom of men. It would be

theoretically possible for an almighty power to bring to bear such

pressures upon human wills as to crush them, but the strongest

representation of the power of God in the New Testament does not go to

the length of hinting at interference with the freedom of men. Men are

to be saved as free men or not at all. We might conceivably imagine the

Almighty as granting such indubitable vision of the material rewards of

righteousness and the material loss of unrighteousness as would

irresistibly draw masses of a certain grade of men into the Kingdom

without a morally free consent to righteousness. Or we might conceive

of the Almighty as so weighing this or that factor of environment as to

diminish almost to the vanishing point the free choice of men. This

kind of compulsion would not be moral. The only compulsions of the

cross are those of a moral God splendidly attractive on his own account.

It will have occurred to some readers by this time that we have said

very little about the love of God in our discussion of the Scriptures,

whereas that love is the outstanding feature of the biblical

revelation. Our reply is that we have been trying to be true to the

impression made by the Scriptures as to the kind of love which we must

think of as expressing the deepest fact in God's life. We would not in

the least minimize the truth that love is the last word of the

scriptural revelation; but in our modern life we are apt to get away

from the quality of the love revealed in the Bible. The love of the

cross is built upon the righteousness which runs through the Sacred

Book from the beginning to the end. A god of indifferent moral quality

might love. The old Greek gods had favorites upon whom they lavished

their affections. A god might be conceived of as an amiable and

well-wishing father, foolishly indulgent toward his children. The love

of the New Testament, however, is the love of a Father who dares to

appeal to the children to make heroic response; and who shows his own

love for them in the lengths to which he will go for them. Moral love

will go the full length of heroic self-sacrifice. We cannot help

believing that it is the quality of God's love, rather than the mere

fact of that love, which is the explanation of the power of the

biblical teaching.

A friend of mine many years ago wrote a book which he called The Hero

God. The publishers objected to the title because they saw in it a

touch of sensationalism. No title, however, could have more adequately

set forth the biblical God. God is the hero of the Bible. His heroism

appears in growing revelation from the beginning. It shows itself

superbly in his willingness to bear the burdens of mankind and in the

appeals which he makes for response from men. The picture is of a God

who dares to believe in men and who dares to call on them for the

extremes of self-sacrificing devotion, not to himself as an arbitrary

Person, but to himself as the center of the moral life which is above

all other life worth while. It is open to anyone to object that this

biblical picture does not necessarily hold good for God; but it is

hardly possible to object that the picture is not biblical. The picture

stands in its own right and makes its own appeal. The only way to test

it in life is to yield to its appeal.

If we are asked to account for the power of the Bible, we are at a loss

for any one single statement. The most compendious reply is the

magnetism of the love of God as revealed in Christ. This is so broad,

however, that it may not make a direct and vivid impression. We may

say, then, that one element of the magnetism of the biblical revelation

is the magnetism of the appeal to the heroic. Whatever else the Bible

may or may not be, it is not a book of soft and easy things. Breaths of

the most rigorous life blow across every page. It is made for man in

that it calls men to the service of the highest and best. The religious

systems which make the fewest and least demands upon their followers

most speedily fall away; those that call for the utmost are most likely

to meet the enthusiastic response. There is a frank honesty about the

biblical appeal which holds a charm for all men in whom there are any

sparks of real manhood. The severities of the Christian life are

nowhere disguised. Men are never lured on by false pretenses. The path

is the path of cross-bearing, and the reward is the comradeship between

God and man as they together work toward the highest goal, a

comradeship which of itself brings relief to men burdened with the

mystery of the universe and agonized by remorse over sin. This essay

is quite as significant for what it has not said as for what it has

said. In our omissions we have tried to keep clear the main outlines of

scriptural revelation. We have sought to hold fast to principles rather

than to discuss details. We have done this because we have believed

that there is more value for religious understanding in pointing out

the loftier biblical peaks which give the direction of the whole range

than in tracing out pathways through detailed passages. Moreover, we

have been afraid to employ many theoretical terms lest we blur the

quick moral impressions made by the Scripture phrasings. For example,

it may be objected that our treatment of the character of God is

altogether inadequate. We have not thus far said a word about the

Trinity, for example, or about atonement. The reason is that we believe

that any theories about God must base themselves upon the moral

suggestions of the Scriptures; and our business is with these rather

than with the theories. The received revelation concerning God would

warrant us in fashioning any theory as to the richness of his inner

constitution which might even measurably satisfy our minds. The

scriptural atmosphere as to the moral life in God must, however, be

kept in the chief place in all of our theological theories. Atonement

must be interpreted chiefly in terms of ethical steadiness if it is to

build on a biblical foundation. But the instant we use formal terms

like "Trinity" and "atonement" we have taken at least one step away

from the Scriptures. Again, we have said nothing about Divine

Providence. The Bible is full of instances of providences, but here

also we have preferred to let the fundamental moral character of the

biblical God speak for itself. We may have our own belief that there is

no scriptural warrant for that separation which obtains in much

theology between the processes of God and the processes of nature. We

may admit that the Hebrew had no very systematically framed theory of

the processes of nature, but he deemed God to be in such close touch

with nature as easily to control its forces for a good end. In two

accounts of the crossing of the Red Sea by the Israelites we have an

apparent contradiction which is at bottom not a contradiction. In one

account God seems to cause the waters to wall up on both sides of the

Israelites in defiance of the laws of nature. In another God

accomplishes the drying of the path through the blowing of a strong

east wind. The Hebrew would not have troubled himself much with the

apparent contradiction, for he would have conceived of God as the chief

factor in either event, and of his purpose as having the right of way.

There is thus no great value in discussing specific instances as long

as the care of God for his children is the animating purpose of the

entire biblical content. So with answers to prayer--the God who is

willing to go for men to the lengths revealed in the cross will surely

answer any prayer worth answering. The essential is to lift prayer up

into harmony with the entire revealing and redeeming movement, and to

conceive of it as a fitting of the whole life into the purposes of a

moral God. Certain general requirements would always have to be met.

Prayer would have really to deal with what is best for the individual,

best for those around him, and most in harmony with the character of

God himself. So, again, with the progress of the kingdom of God on

earth--the God of whose nature the cross is the final revelation can be

trusted to do the best possible for the Kingdom here and now. Much

debate about the second coming of Christ misses the great moral

principles which are the heart of the Christian revelation and loses

itself in the incidental forms in which those principles were declared.

The best preparation for the coming of the kingdom of Christ is

absorption in the principles of Christ and in the spirit of Christ. To

get away from these in our search for external and material conditions

which are the mere vehicle of the biblical thought is not only to

pursue a will-o'-the-wisp, but to injure true spiritual progress. Jesus

has given us the spiritual principles which must control the destiny of

any society here and now. In the light of the Christ-faith revealed in

the cross we must not despair of the redemption of men by the city-full

and by the nation-full, for the greatest confidence ever placed in men

is the implied trust of the cross of Christ. The Almighty at the

beginning paid an immense tribute to the human race when he flung it

out into the gale of this existence. In the light of the cross we

cannot believe that He expected the race to sink. In the cross the

Christ who revealed God's own mind showed the length he was willing to

go in confidence that men would finally turn to him with all the powers

of their lives. To throw up our hands and say that the world is getting

worse and we can do nothing without a speedy physical return of the

Christ is to overlook the spiritual forces of the cross.

We have said nothing about immortality. What the Scriptures themselves

say is largely incidental. The Master did not allow himself to be drawn

into any extended conversation about the details of a future life, but

he did give us the God of the cross. In the presence of that cross we

can profess the utmost confidence in the eternal life of the sons of

God, while at the same time acknowledging the utmost ignorance as to

any of the material conditions of the future life. It is commonly

assumed that the resurrection of Christ proves that we shall likewise

rise, but the rising of Christ does not of itself prove that others

shall rise. The cross, however--showing the extent to which the Divine

is willing to go for men--is the ground of our hope. God will not leave

his loved ones to see corruption. In a word, the cross of Christ

gathers up all the biblical truth. It is a revelation of God's own

character, of his hope for men, of the methods by which he seeks to win

men, and of the ground of our faith in a right outcome for men and for

society.

We may be permitted to summarize by saying that scientific and

historical biblical study is a preparation for the knowledge of the

Scriptures; that it is exceedingly important that the student approach

with the correct preliminary point of view. The revelation of the inner

significance, however, does not dawn until there is recognition of the

need of obedience to the principles laid down in the Scriptures. And

this obedience must be broad enough to include zeal for the uplift of

our fellow men in all phases of their lives. Out of righteous living

the devoted life, we believe, will see that the greatest fact of the

Bible is God; that the greatest fact of God is Christ; that the

greatest fact of Christ is the cross.

End of Project Gutenberg's Understanding the Scriptures, by Francis McConnell

Understanding the Scriptures · 第 6 / 6 章