III. In the last words we touch that with which this essay may perhaps

fitly end. If its drift has been in any sense true, there stands

before us, as perhaps the most striking feature of the whole

situation, the co-existence of the two preparations, the one general,

indirect, contributory, and consisting only in an impressive

convergence and centering of the lines of ordinary historical

sequences; the other special, directly introductory, and characterized

by the presence of a distinctive power, call it what we may, a genius

for religion, or more truly and adequately a special grace of the

Spirit of God, which is new and above ordinary experience, even as

life is when it enters the rest of nature, and reason is when it

appears in the world of life. The two preparations pursue their course

unconscious of one another, almost exclusive of one another. Greek

wisdom and Roman power have no dream of coming to receive from the

narrow national cult of humbled and subject Israel. And Israel, even

taught by the great prophets, could hardly find a place in her vision

of the future for any destiny of the nations of the world. To this

antagonism, or more strictly this ignoring of one another, there are

exceptions, exceptions of the kind which emphasize the character of

the situation which they hardly modify. Two streams of such force and

volume as those of Jewish religion and classical life or culture could

not touch and leave one another altogether uninfluenced, though the

influence was characteristically different. On the side of the world

the spiritual needs of individuals caused numbers, not inconsiderable,

to receive influences which made them ready to act as seeding ground

and ferment for the Gospel. On the side of Israel, the strong sense of

mission and of truth made the contact with Greek culture suggest the

ambition to use it as a great instrument, to teach it to acknowledge

and witness to the God of Israel, who was God of the whole earth: and

the results, in the Greek of the Septuagint and in the Helleno-Judaic

writings of Alexandria and elsewhere, were invaluable in fashioning

language and thought for Christ's service. But all the more

distinctly, in the first case, does the antagonism, the gulf fixed,

the mutual aversion, the impossibility humanly speaking of fusion

between Jew and Gentile come out before our eyes. And, in the second

case, the unreal romancings of the Sibylline works, the apparently

isolated work of Philo, and the opportunism of a politician like

Josephus, have all the character of hybrids, and shew no sign of the

vital fusion by which out of a great wedlock a new thing comes to be.

The two preparations stand apart: they go their own way. There is

indeed in them a strange parallelism of common human experience and

human need. Both have tried their experiments, made their ventures,

won their successes, gone through their disciplines of disenchantment

and failure. Both are conscious of the dying of life: in Israel there

is 'no prophet more'; outside it philosophy has not the creativeness

and energy of youth but the quiet acquiescence and mild prudence of

age, and life, public and private, is without adequate scope or aim.

In both the 'tendencies towards' a Gospel are as far as possible from

making a 'tendency to produce' one. In both there is the same desire

for which the Jew alone can find conscious expression: it is 'Quicken

me!' Both need life. Both have no help in themselves. But in the lines

which they follow and the hopes which they frame there is neither

likeness nor compatibility. 'The Greeks seek after wisdom[189].' The

intellect, and those who are distinctively men of the intellect, can

hardly imagine human advance otherwise than in terms of the intellect.

Philosophy conceives of it as a conquest of philosophical result, or

even as an increase of philosophical material. It is the pain of an

advanced and critical time, like that of which we speak, to feel this,

and yet to feel that the experiments of speculation have gone far

enough to shew that by none of their alternative ways can there be any

way out to the peace of certain truth. And yet it seems that, without

abdication of reason, there is no possibility of going any other way:

the Greeks (and in this sense all the world was Greek) could only look

for what they wanted in the form of a new philosophy.

But 'the Jews require a sign.' Totally different, but equally

exclusive, were the conditions under which the Jew could conceive of a

new epoch. The dread of exhausted resources did not haunt him, for he

looked not to human capacity but to Divine gift and interposition. But

he thought that he knew the form in which such interposition would

come; it was not to be primarily a teaching, (it is the Samaritan and

not the Jew who is recorded as expecting in Messiah one who, 'when He

is come, will tell us all things[190]'); it must appear in action,

'with observation[191],' with pomp and scenic display, with signs, and

signs which, in a very visible and tangible sense, should seem to be

from heaven[192], in particular with circumstances of triumph and

conquest, and with an exaltation of Israel to the glories of her

monarchy many times enlarged.

Such are the demands; the things sought and needed; the conditions

prescribed; definite, severally uncompromising, mutually unlike, and

even conflicting. And then from out of Israel, without moral or

political earthquake, without overwhelming display of supernatural

force, nay even, to a superficial eye, with all the appearance of

weakness and failure, without any rescue for Israel, with no attempt

to present itself in philosophical form, with none of the strain and

elaboration of a conscious effort to combine many in one, but rather

with a paradoxical and offending 'simplicity' and 'foolishness' of

mere assertion:--there comes forth a Thing in which on the one side

Jews--whom we all recognise to be the best Jews, Jews in the truest

and deepest sense--find the whole spirit and meaning, even down to its

detail, of the life and the hope of Israel summed up and fulfilled;

which left them no sense of disappointment, but rather a consciousness

of having had hopes only too narrow and low; which gave them the

exulting sense of 'reigning as kings,' with a 'King of Israel': while

on the other side this same Thing was felt by 'Greeks' as a 'wisdom'

flooding their reasons with a light of truth and wisdom (_sophia_),

which met the search of philosophy (_philo-sophia_)[193], but also in

simple and wise alike drew forth and ministered to needs which

philosophy had but half seen and wholly failed to satisfy, enabling

conscience to be candid and yet at peace, building up a new

cosmopolitan fellowship, and restoring to human life dignity and

value, not only in phrase and theory, but in truth. 'There came forth

a Thing,' or rather there came forth One, in Whom all this was done.

The question rises, 'Whom say we that He is?' And though the answer

must be reached in different ways by different men, and the witness to

Him in Whom is the sum of all, must needs be of many kinds; yet the

convergence of many lines (as we have been permitted to trace it) to

One in whom they are all combined and yet transcended, to One whom

they can usher in but were powerless to produce, may be no slight

corroboration of the answer which was accepted, as we have to

remember, by the lowly Jesus with significant solemnity: 'Thou art the

Christ,' the Fulfiller of all high and inspired Jewish hope; 'the Son

of the Living God[194],' His Son,--as the Son of Man, in whom all that

is human reaches fulness; and as the Son of God, who brings down to

man what he has been allowed to prove to himself that he cannot

discover or create.

[150] S. Matt. xiii. 52; v. 17.

[151] S. Matt. xxi. 33-38.

[152] S. Matt. v. 12; xxiii. 30-37.

[153] S. Mark xiv. 49; S. Luke xxii. 37.

[154] S. Luke xxiv. 25, 26, 44.

[155] Gal. iv. 9.

[156] Rom. xvi. 26. So the pages of the early apologists are to our

feeling almost cumbered by the profuseness of their appeal to these

Scriptures.

[157] S. John i. 1, 14, 9, 10.

[158] _Ep._ cii. 12.

[159] _De Carne Christi_ vi. Eum Christum qui jam tunc et adloqui ...

humanum genus ediscebat in carnis habitu: cp. _adv. Prax._ xvi.

ediscebat Deus in terris cum hominibus conversari.

[160] S. Matt. xi. 4, 5; xii. 39; xvi. 3.

[161] Hdt. i. 142.

[162] Clem. Alex. _Protrept._ cx. init.

[163] 1 Cor. i. 21.

[164] Wordsworth, _Excursion_ iv.

[165] Ἀταραξία (Epicurean): αὐτάρκεια.

[166] The words 'era of Christianity' are used intentionally rather

than the more precise 'era of Christ,' because anything which (without

being influenced unless in the most impalpable way by Christianity)

prepared the world through the first and even the second century of

the era to receive the Gospel may be fairly included as preparation

for the revelation of Christ.

[167] Capes, _Age of Antonines_.

[168] _Philosophy of the Greeks: Eclectics_, p. 20 (tr. Alleyne).

[169] _Gospel of the Resurrection_ (3rd ed.), p. 72. It is interesting

to notice that according to so dispassionate an observer as M. Gaston

Boissier (_La Religion Romaine d'Auguste aux Antonins_), who has done

so much to trace the better tendencies of the Imperial period, the

evidence suggests some such distinction, even as regards some of the

main practical results of Christianity. For example, there was a

tendency to ameliorate slavery on principles of general humanity, but

there was no hint of a possibility of an end to slavery. There were

some signs of mutual interest between classes, but no progress towards

the effective appearance of a true philanthropy such as the Christian.

In such cases, however, the validity of the distinctions must be

debatable and fluctuating. It is absolute as regards the Incarnation.

[170] Bk. V. c. xi. _The New Monarchy._

[171] Edersheim's _Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah_: Schürer,

_History of the Jewish People in the time of Jesus Christ_.

[172] Schürer, II. ii. 273.

[173] Schürer, II. ii. 297.

[174] Tac. _Hist._ v. 4.

[175] Schürer, II. ii. 308.

[176] Acts xvii. 5, xiv. 5, xiii. 50, 44.

[177] Acts xiii. 43, &c.

[178] Acts xv. 21.

[179] Isaiah xxxvi. 18.

[180] _Hibbert Lectures_, 1882, p. 231.

[181] _Nineteenth Century_, April, 1886.

[182] Isaiah x. 15; xi. 1; Zeph. iii. 12.

[183] Hosea xi. 1.

[184] Amos ix. 7.

[185] Ezekiel xvi. 3.

[186] It is interesting to note that, according to the record

preserved by Israel of their own history, that which Kuenen says of

later time,--that 'at each turning-point of the history stands a man

who claims to bring a word from God.'--is exactly true of the older

history too; Abraham, Moses, Samuel, David, are all in this sense

prophets. Yet there is no appearance of a later age forming a past in

its own likeness. The prophets do not imagine an earlier row of

prophets like themselves, put in like the portraits of the early

Scottish kings at Holyrood, to fill the blanks of history. The early

figures are not cut to prophetic pattern; they have each their

distinct individuality of character and office, only they have a unity

of Divine commission and service.

[187] _Pensées_, ii, 7 § 2.

[188] S. Matt. xii 45. It should be observed that the words were

spoken of 'this wicked generation.'

[189] 1 Cor. i. 22.

[190] S. John iv. 25.

[191] S. Luke xvii. 20.

[192] S. Matt. xii. 38; S. John vi. 30, 31, in each case following

some of our Lord's own signs.

[193] This comes before us vividly in Justin Martyr's account of his

own conversion. _Dial. c. Tryph._ 3 ff. 'Thus and for this reason I am

a philosopher.'

[194] S. Matt. xvi. 16.

V.

_THE INCARNATION AND DEVELOPMENT._

J. R. ILLINGWORTH.

I. The last few years have witnessed the gradual acceptance by

Christian thinkers of the great scientific generalization of our age,

which is briefly, if somewhat vaguely, described as the Theory of

Evolution. History has repeated itself, and another of the

'oppositions of science' to theology has proved upon inquiry to be no

opposition at all. Such oppositions and reconciliations are older than

Christianity, and are part of what is often called the dialectical

movement; the movement, that is to say, by question and answer, out of

which all progress comes. But the result of such a process is

something more than the mere repetition of a twice-told tale. It is an

advance in our theological thinking; a definite increase of insight; a

fresh and fuller appreciation of those 'many ways' in which 'God

fulfils Himself.' For great scientific discoveries, like the

heliocentric astronomy, are not merely new facts to be assimilated;

they involve new ways of looking at things. And this has been

pre-eminently the case with the law of evolution; which, once

observed, has rapidly extended to every department of thought and

history, and altered our attitude towards all knowledge. Organisms,

nations, languages, institutions, customs, creeds, have all come to be

regarded in the light of their development, and we feel that to

understand what a thing really is, we must examine how it came to be.

Evolution is in the air. It is the category of the age; a 'partus

temporis'; a necessary consequence of our wider field of comparison.

We cannot place ourselves outside it, or limit the scope of its

operation. And our religious opinions, like all things else that have

come down on the current of development, must justify their existence

by an appeal to the past.

It is the object of the following pages to consider what popular

misconceptions of the central doctrine of our religion, the

Incarnation, have been remedied; what more or less forgotten aspects

of it have been restored to their due place; what new lights have been

thrown upon the fulness of its meaning, in the course of our

discussion of the various views of evolution.

In face of the historical spirit of the age, the study of past

theology can never again be regarded as merely a piece of religious

antiquarianism. And there are two classes of mind to which it should

be of especial service. Many an earnest worker in the Christian cause,

conscious how little the refinements of philosophy can influence for

good or evil the majority of men, and generously impatient of all

labour wasted, when the labourers are so few, is apt to under-estimate

what he considers the less practical departments of theology;

forgetful that there are souls, and those among the noblest, to whom

the primary avenue of access is the intellect, and who can only be led

homeward by the illuminative way. The Christian of this type may be

materially helped towards welcoming wider views, by being convinced

that what he has been too easily apt to regard as metaphysical

subtleties, or as dangerous innovations, or as questionable

accommodations of the Gospel to the exigencies of passing controversy,

are after all an integral part of the great Catholic tradition. On the

other hand, many plausible attacks upon the Christian creed are due to

the inadequate methods of its professed interpreters. Fragments of

doctrine, torn from their context and deprived of their due

proportions, are brandished in the eyes of men by well-meaning but

ignorant apologists as containing the sum total of the Christian

faith, with the lamentable consequence that even earnest seekers after

truth, and much more its unearnest and merely factious adversaries,

mislead themselves and others into thinking Christianity discredited,

when in reality they have all along been only criticising its

caricature. Such men need reminding that Christianity is greater than

its isolated interpreters or misinterpreters in any age; that in the

course of its long history it has accumulated answers to many an

objection which they in their ignorance think new; and that, in the

confidence of its universal mission and the memory of its many

victories, it still claims to be sympathetic, adequate, adaptable to

the problems and perplexities of each successive age.

The general tendency of thought since the Reformation has been in the

direction of these partial presentations of Christianity. The

Reformers, from various causes, were so occupied with what is now

called Soteriology, or the scheme of salvation, that they paid but

scant attention to the other aspects of the Gospel. And the

consequence was that a whole side of the great Christian tradition,

and one on which many of its greatest thinkers had lavished the

labours of a lifetime, was allowed almost unconsciously to lapse into

comparative oblivion; and the religion of the Incarnation was narrowed

into the religion of the Atonement. Men's views of the faith dwindled

and became subjective and self-regarding, while the gulf was daily

widened between things sacred and things secular; among which latter,

art and science, and the whole political and social order, gradually

came to be classed.

Far otherwise was it with the great thinkers of the early Church; and

that not from an under-estimate of the saving power of the Cross,

which was bearing daily fruit around them, of penitence, and sanctity,

and martyrdom; but from their regarding Christian salvation in its

context. They realized that redemption was a means to an end, and that

end the reconsecration of the whole universe to God. And so the very

completeness of their grasp on the Atonement led them to dwell upon

the cosmical significance of the Incarnation, its purpose to 'gather

together all things in one.' For it was an age in which the problems

of the universe were keenly felt. Philosophical thinking, if less

mature, was not less exuberant than now, and had already a great past

behind it. And the natural world, though its structural secrets were

little understood, fascinated the imagination and strained the heart

with its appealing beauty. Spiritualism, superstition, scepticism,

were tried in turn but could not satisfy. The questionings of the

intellect still pressed for a solution. And the souls of Christians

were stirred to proclaim that the new power which they felt within

them, restoring, quickening, harmonizing the whole of their inner

life, would also prove the key to all these mysteries of matter and of

mind.

So it was that the theology of the Incarnation was gradually drawn

out, from the teaching of S. Paul and of S. John. The identity of Him

Who was made man and dwelt among us, with Him by Whom all things were

made and by Whom all things consist; His eternal pre-existence as the

reason and the word of God, the Logos; His indwelling presence in the

universe as the source and condition of all its life, and in man as

the light of His intellectual being; His Resurrection, His

Ascension,--all these thoughts were woven into one magnificent

picture, wherein creation was viewed as the embodiment of the Divine

ideas, and therefore the revelation of the Divine character;

manifesting its Maker with increasing clearness at each successive

stage in the great scale of being, till in the fulness of time He

Himself became man, and thereby lifted human nature, and with it the

material universe to which man is so intimately linked; and triumphing

over the sin and death under which creation groaned and travailed,

opened by His Resurrection and then by His Ascension vistas of the

glorious destiny purposed for His creatures before the world was.

'Factus est quod sumus nos, uti nos perficeret esse quod est

ipse[195].'

Such is the view of the Incarnation in what may be called its

intellectual aspect, which we find gradually expressed with increasing

clearness by the Fathers, from Justin to Athanasius. And with all its

deep suggestiveness, it is still a severely simple picture, drawn in

but few outlines, and those strictly scriptural. It was born of no

abstract love of metaphysic, and stands in striking contrast to the

wild speculations of the time. Its motive and its method were both

intensely practical; its motive being to present Christianity to the

mind as well as to the heart; and its method no more than to connect

and interpret and explain the definite statements of S. Paul and

S. John. Passing over the dark ages, when thought was in comparative

abeyance, and the energies of the Church absorbed in the work of

conversion and organization, we come, in the twelfth and following

centuries, to a second period of intellectual ferment, less brilliant

than that which characterized the decadence of the old civilization,

but instinct with all the fire and restlessness of youth. Unsobered as

yet by experience, and unsupplied with adequate material from without,

thought preyed upon itself and revelled in its new-found powers of

speculation. Fragments of the various heresies which the Fathers had

answered and outlived reappeared with all the halo of novelty around

them. Religions were crudely compared and sceptical inferences drawn.

Popular unbelief, checked in a measure by authority, avenged itself by

ridicule of all things sacred. It was a period of intense intellectual

unrest, too many-sided and inconsequent to be easily described. But as

far as the anti-Christian influences of the time can be summarized

they were mainly two:--the Arabic pantheism, and the materialism which

was fostered in the medical schools; kindred errors, both concerned

with an undue estimate of matter. And how did Christian theology meet

them? Not by laying stress, like the later Deists, upon God's infinite

distance from the world, but upon the closeness of His intimacy with

it: by reviving, that is, with increased emphasis the Patristic

doctrine of the Incarnation, as the climax and the keystone of the

whole visible creation. There is a greater divergence of opinion,

perhaps, among the Schoolmen than among the Fathers; and a far greater

amount of that unprofitable subtlety for which they are apt to be

somewhat too unintelligently ridiculed. But on the point before us, as

on all others of primary importance, they are substantially unanimous,

and never fail in dignity.

'As the thought of the Divine mind is called the Word, Who is the Son,

so the unfolding of that thought in external action (per opera

exteriora) is named the word of the Word[196].'

'The whole world is a kind of bodily and visible Gospel of that Word

by which it was created[197].'

'Every creature is a theophany[198].'

'Every creature is a Divine word, for it tells of God[199].'

'The wisdom of God, when first it issued in creation, came not to us

naked, but clothed in the apparel of created things. And then when the

same wisdom would manifest Himself to us as the Son of God, and so was

seen of men[200].'

'The Incarnation is the exaltation of human nature and consummation of

the Universe[201].'

Such quotations might be multiplied indefinitely from the pages of the

Schoolmen and scholastic theologians. And the line of thought which

they indicate seems to lead us by a natural sequence to view the

Incarnation as being the predestined climax of creation, independently

of human sin. The thought is of course a mere speculation, 'beyond

that which is written,' but from its first appearance in the twelfth

century it has been regarded with increasing favour; for it is full of

rich suggestiveness, and seems to throw a deeper meaning into all our

investigations of the world's gradual development.

Again, from the relation of the Word to the universe follows His

relation to the human mind. For 'that life was the light of men.'

'The created intellect is the imparted likeness of God,' says

S. Thomas; and again, 'Every intellectual process has its origin in

the Word of God Who is the Divine Reason.' 'The light of intellect is

imprinted upon us by God Himself (immediate a Deo).' 'God continually

works in the mind, as being both the cause and the guide of its

natural light.' 'In every object of sensitive or rational experience

God Himself lies hid[202].' All intelligences know God implicitly, in

every object of their knowledge[203].' 'Christ is our internal

teacher, and no truth of any kind is known but through Him; though He

speaks not in language as we do, but by interior illumination[204].'

'The philosophers have taught us the sciences, for God revealed them

to them[205].'

II. The point to be noticed in the teaching of which such passages are

scattered samples, is that the Schoolmen and orthodox mystics of the

middle age, with Pantheism, materialism, rationalism surging all

around them, and perfectly conscious of the fact, met these errors,

not by denying the reality of matter, or the capacity of reason, as

later apologists have often done, but by claiming for both a place in

the Theology of the Word. And this Theology of the Word was, in

reality, quite independent of, and unaffected by, the subtleties and

fallacies and false opinions of the age, cobwebs of the unfurnished

intellect which time has swept away. It was a magnificent framework,

outside and above the limited knowledge of the day and the

peculiarities of individual thinkers; an inheritance from the

Patristic tradition, which the Fathers, in their turn, had not

invented, but received as Apostolic doctrine from Apostolic men, and

only made more explicit by gradual definition, during centuries when,

it has been fairly said, 'the highest reason, as independently

exercised by the wise of the world, was entirely coincident with the

highest reason as inspiring the Church[206].' We have now to consider

whether this view of the Incarnation, which, though in the countries

most influenced by the Reformation it has dropped too much out of

sight, has yet never really died out of the Church at large, is in any

way incompatible with the results of modern science; or whether, on

the contrary, it does not provide an outline to which science is

slowly but surely giving reality and content.

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