(No. V, 8)
In times long, long past people looked at matters in this fashion:
it was demanded of him who would be a teacher of Christianity
that his life should be a guarantee for the teachings he proclaimed.
This idea was abandoned long ago, the world having become wiser
and more serious. It has learned to set little store by these
illiberal and sickly notions of personal responsibility, having
learned to look for purely objective ends. The demand is made
now of the teacher that his life should guarantee that what he
has to say is entertaining and dramatic stuff, amusing, and
purely objective.
Some examples. Suppose you wanted to speak about Christianity,
that is, the Christianity of the New Testament which expresses
preference for the single state--and suppose you yourself are
unmarried: why, my dear man! you ought not to speak on this
subject, because your congregation might think that you meant
what you said and become disquieted, or it might feel insulted
that you thus, very improperly, mixed in your own affairs. No,
dear sir, it will take a little longer before you are entitled
to speak seriously on this matter so as really to satisfy the
congregation. Wait till you have buried your first wife and
are well along with your second wife: then it will be time for
you to stand before your congregation to preach and "bear witness"
that Christianity prefers the single state--then you will satisfy
them altogether; for your life will furnish the guarantee that
it is all tomfoolery and great fun, or that what you say is--interesting.
Indeed, how interesting! For just as, to make it interesting,
the husband must be unfaithful to his wife and the wife to her
husband, likewise truth becomes interesting, intensely interesting,
only when one lets one's self be carried away by one's feelings,
be fascinated by them--but of course does the precise opposite
and thus in an underhand manner is re-assured in persisting in
one's ways.
Do you wish to speak about Christianity's teaching contempt
for titles and decorations and all the follies of fame--and
should you happen to be neither a person of rank nor anything
of the kind: Why, my dear sir! You ought not to undertake to
speak on this subject. Why, your congregation might think you
were in earnest, or feel insulted by such a lack of tact in
forcing your personality on their notice. No, indeed, you ought
to wait till you have a lot of decorations, the more the merrier;
you ought to wait till you drag along with a rigmarole of titles,
so many that you hardly know yourself what you are called: then
is your time come to stand before your congregation to preach
and "bear witness"--and you will undoubtedly satisfy them; for
your life will then furnish the guarantee that it is but a dramatic
divertissement, an interesting forenoon entertainment.
Is it your intention to preach Christianity in poverty, and
insist that only thus it is taught in truth--and you happen
to be very literally a poor devil: Why, my dear sir! You ought
not to venture to speak on this subject. Why, your congregation
might think you were in earnest, they might become afraid and
lose their good humor, and they might be very unpleasantly affected
by thus having poverty-thrust in on them. No indeed, first get
yourself some fat living, and when you have had it so long that
your promotion to one still fatter is to be expected: then is
your time come to stand before your congregation and to preach
and "bear witness"--and you will satisfy them; for your life
then furnishes the guarantee that it is just a joke, such as
serious men like to indulge in, now and then, in theatre or
in church, as a sort of recreation to gather new strength--for
making money.
And that is the way they honor God in the churches! And then
these silk and velvet orators weep, they sob, their voice is
drowned in tears! Ah, if it be true (and it is, since God Himself
has said so), if it be true that He counts the tears of the
afflicted and puts them into His bottle,[7] then woe to these
orators, if God has counted also their Sunday tears and put
them into His bottle! And woe to us all if God really heeds
these Sunday tears--especially those of the speakers, but also
those of the listeners! For a Sunday preacher would indeed be
right if he said--and, oratorically, this would have a splendid
effect, especially if accompanied by his own tears and suppressed
sobs--he would be right if he said to his audience: I shall
count all the futile tears you have shed in church, and with
them I shall step accusingly before you on the Day of Judgment--indeed,
he is right; only please not to forget that, after all, the
speaker's own dramatic tears are by far more dreadful than the
thoughtless tears of his listeners.