BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR
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The Mendenhall Lectures, First Series
Delivered at DePauw University
THE BIBLE AND LIFE
BY EDWIN HOLT HUGHES
Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church
THE METHODIST BOOK CONCERN
NEW YORK CINCINNATI
Copyright, 1915, by
EDWIN HOLT HUGHES
First Edition printed February, 1915
Reprinted June, 1915
TO CHARLES RAISBECK MAGEE
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
INTRODUCTION 9
FOREWORD 11
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE 13
THE HUMAN OUTLINE 19
I. THE BIBLE AND LIFE 21
II. THE BIBLE AND MAN 49
III. THE BIBLE AND HOME 76
IV. THE BIBLE AND EDUCATION 102
V. THE BIBLE AND WORK 125
VI. THE BIBLE AND WEALTH 151
VII. THE BIBLE AND SORROW 185
VIII. THE BIBLE AND PRACTICE 213
INTRODUCTION
By the courteous invitation of the President, Faculty, and Trustees of
DePauw University, the writer had the privilege of delivering the first
series of lectures under the foundation as endowed by his friend, the Rev.
Marmaduke H. Mendenhall. The following comments are the only introductory
words that need be given.
The terms of the lectures were kept strictly within the radius of real
life. The author does not claim to be a biblical scholar in any technical
sense. Nor did he deem that the primary need of the students whom he
addressed would be met by a discussion of theories of inspiration or of
dates and authorships. College students have a passion for reality, and
the most convincing apologetic for them is the argument from actual
living.
Under the instruction of the founder the lectures are to be placed in
permanent form for the students of the University and for the wider
public. The lecturer having been rewarded by the close attention of
hundreds of youthful hearers, the writer will have a still greater reward
if those who heard the words as spoken in Meharry Hall are joined by the
larger company who will listen for the voice of the Spirit in these pages.
EDWIN HOLT HUGHES.
THE MENDENHALL LECTURES
FOREWORD
The late Reverend Marmaduke H. Mendenhall, D.D., of the North Indiana
Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, donated to DePauw University
the sum of ten thousand dollars, the purpose and conditions of which gift
are set forth in his bequest as follows:
The object of this gift is "to found a perpetual lectureship on the
evidences of the Divine Origin of Christianity, to be known as the
Mendenhall Foundation. The income from this fund shall be used for the
support of an Annual Lectureship, the design of which shall be the
exhibition of the proofs, from all sources, of the Divine Origin,
Inspiration, and Authority of the Holy Scriptures. The course of lectures
shall be delivered annually before the University and the public without
any charge for admission.
"The lecturers shall be chosen by an electing body consisting of the
President of the University, the five senior members of the Faculty of the
College of Liberal Arts, and the President of the Board of Trustees,
subject to the approval of the Board of Bishops of the Methodist
Episcopal Church. The lecturers must be persons of high and wide repute,
of broad and varied scholarship, who firmly adhere to the evangelical
system of Christian faith. The selection of lecturers may be made from the
world of Christian scholarship without regard to denominational divisions.
Each course of lectures is to be published in book form by an eminent
publishing house and sold at cost to the Faculty and students of the
University."
GEORGE R. GROSE,
_President of DePauw University_.
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
Inasmuch as future lecturers on the Mendenhall Foundation may not have had
the privilege of personal acquaintance with the founder, it is doubtless
good that this first volume may record the outlines of his life and
character. Marmaduke H. Mendenhall was born at Guilford, North Carolina,
May 13, 1836. He died at Union City, Indiana, October 9, 1905. He was the
son of Himelius and Priscilla Mendenhall, who, when their son was about
one year old, came northward and settled near Peru, Indiana. Doctor
Mendenhall did not suggest in manner or bearing that he was Southern born.
Had one chosen to judge of his birthplace by the man himself, one would
have said that he was a typical son of New England. His deeper self was
typified by his personal appearance. He was tall, stately, dignified,
serious, earnest.
He joined the North Indiana Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church
in 1856. Those days were still pioneer, and he entered gladly into the
sacrificial ministry of that period. It is a singular coincidence that he
was doubtless the first minister of his faith to begin work near Union
City, where he closed his earthly labors. It was his privilege, also, to
build the first Methodist Episcopal church in the city where he died. The
history of his ministry shows that he served all classes of
charges--country, city, village, county seat. Several times the record is
dotted with the word "Mission," which would indicate that he frequently
followed the apostolic fashion of building strictly on his own
foundations. He came to a place of leadership in his own Conference. To
the day of his death he was an influential factor in all its plans and
programs. Though he had been technically "superannuated" for sixteen years
prior to his death, his mind kept its full vigor, and his word kept its
full weight. Twice he was elected a reserve delegate to the General
Conference, while in 1880 he was chosen as one of the regular delegates.
From the beginning of his ministry Dr. Mendenhall showed the signs of a
remarkable mind, and at the end of his ministry he was still manifesting a
keen interest in current questions and in theological problems. His
library to the last was freshened by the purchase of new books. When he
turned his many volumes over to Gammon Theological Seminary that
institution did not receive hundreds of antiquated volumes, but rather a
collection brought down to date and selected by a master judgment. The
intellectual, though suffused at times by a proper and restrained emotion,
was his noticeable characteristic. He was given to thorough analysis. He
was markedly painstaking. Records that he made of the conduct of his
public services indicate that the final details were all regarded, and
that hymns and Scripture lessons were chosen with a view to their bearing
on the instruction of the day.
Being a vigorous personality, he held his views with strength. He was
keenly loyal to his convictions, whether these related to methods of work
or to statements of doctrine. In his advocacy or in his antagonism he was
always frank and open. His opponent could see him standing out in plain
view, with no effort to protect himself by secrecy. Men could never doubt
his sincerity, however much they might question the correctness of his
positions. He knew no sinuous paths. He was as direct as sunlight, and he
traveled in straight lines.
In all his spheres of work Dr. Mendenhall made deep and lasting
impressions. Highly intellectual as he was, he was still an excellent
administrator. His business qualifications were signal. Every matter
committed to him was cared for with scrupulous nicety. He left no loose
ends to any of his work. Although his salaries were never large, as
salaries are counted to-day, he secured a comfortable property, and this
in spite of the fact that throughout his lifetime he was a generous
contributor to good causes.
He served as a trustee of De Pauw University longer than other member of
his Conference had served, up to the time of his death. From 1878 to 1887
he served in this capacity, while in 1896 he was reelected and was an
active worker on the board up to the end of his life. He aided in pushing
the institution through its crisis. The files of this writer disclose a
careful and helpful correspondence upon matters vital to the welfare of
the University. In the sessions of the board he was always urbane and
conciliatory. He crowned the work of his life by leaving to the University
all of his estate. Upon the increase of the estate to a certain figure,
the income was to be used in founding a lectureship on Revealed Religion,
especially as related to the Holy Bible.
Although the writer was an intimate friend of Dr. Mendenhall, he cannot
remember any statements made to him which would indicate the founder's
views of inspiration or of the other questions that have made the
biblical problem of the last two decades. But his library showed that he
was fully aware of the modern discussions. Perhaps he felt that a
lectureship, broadly founded and practically directed, would be of special
service to the church in a time of transition. The writer entertains the
conviction that, even though Dr. Mendenhall might not agree fully with all
that is found in the following pages, he would still appreciate the effort
to bring the Bible within its divine purpose as a Book of Life.
The home of the founder revealed him as a model of courtesy and
kindliness. Friends who saw him by his own fireside noted the benignity
that matched his dignity, the tenderness that equaled his seriousness.
Those who came into the nearer circle of his life regarded him most
highly. To the wife who survives him he was in all ways a helper, gentle
in demeanor and loyally careful in the administration of her interests. As
the writer reviews the drift of these first lectures delivered under this
foundation, he is persuaded that the founder's relation to Himself, to his
Home, to his Work, to his Wealth, to his Pleasure and Sorrow, and
particularly to the cause of Education, is not misrepresented herein. The
Bible was his Book, and its ideals were achieved in his living. It is the
sincere wish that these pages may accomplish somewhat the main purpose of
the founder's heart in making the divine Book a brighter lamp for the
guidance of youth.
THE HUMAN OUTLINE
It may be well to give in human form the outline which will be followed in
these pages. The story is the story of millions of men on as many days.
A man awoke one morning to the consciousness of himself. Looking about he
saw the familiar sights of his own home, and soon he heard the voices of
his wife and children. Ere long the little people were on their way to
school. The man proceeded to his work, while his wife took up her domestic
duties. He returned in the evening with the proceeds of his day's labor
added to his stock of goods. He partook of the evening meal and then
indulged in the pleasure of "the children's hour." He later called upon a
friend who had met with sorrow and in the trouble of his friend he found a
fresh reminder of his own affliction. He retired in due season to his
slumber and went forth the next morning to make the like round of the day.
This is a piece of constant biography. It could be duplicated by reference
to many a personal journal and diary. If we analyze the description, we
shall find that the man was driven to take a relation to Himself, to Home,
to Education, to Work, to Wealth, to Pleasure and Sorrow.
The aim of this book is to state somewhat the bearing that the Bible has
upon these great departments of our human living. The apologetic tests the
Book under the terms of this human outline.
CHAPTER I
THE BIBLE AND LIFE
The Bible is a book of power. The man who would deny this statement would
impugn his own intelligence. It is to-day the Book of the strongest
nations. If the strongest nations selected it for their inspiration and
guidance, that fact is significant. If, on the other hand, the Bible has
trained the strongest nations, that fact is more significant. In either
case power is lodged in the Holy Scriptures. The miracle is this: That a
very ancient Book rules a very modern world.
Various explanations are given. Some men say that the Bible is powerful
because it has been promoted by a powerful organization. But this
explanation needs explaining. How did the Bible secure the aid of this
organization? Why did not the organization take the Dialogues of Plato and
become the evangel of Socrates' splendid wisdom? Why did it elect one
particular volume? And what would have been the effect on its own life if
it had chosen some other book? Would the writings of Marcus Aurelius or of
Seneca, with their high moral grade and their marked religious insight,
have served the holy purpose as effectively? When we attempt to substitute
some other book in the Bible's place, our hesitancy quickly passes on to
positive refusal. The Christian Church, with any other volume as its
textbook, is simply inconceivable.
Other men will say that the power of the Bible has come from its girding
by a doctrine of authority. This explanation must likewise be explained.
Could a Book without inherent authority be long maintained among
intelligent peoples on the basis of artificial authority? Why is the Bible
the best seller and the greatest worker in those lands where it has been
set free to yield its own message? What is the peculiar quality in the
Book that has saved any theory of its authority from appearing absurd? The
Bible showed its power long before men adopted any theory of its power.
Doubtless the claim of authority has increased the influence of the Book
over certain types of minds. Still it may be confidently asserted that the
claim of authority has depended far more on the power of the Bible than
the power of the Bible has depended on the claim of authority. The effect
should not be allowed to pass itself off as the main cause.
Nor does the power of the Bible depend upon mere bulk. Shakespeare wrote
enough to make several Bibles. So did Scott. So did Dickens. So did
Parkman. If the Bible is a moral and spiritual Encyclopedia, its material
has been strangely condensed. It is a brief Book, yet out of its small
compass men gather texts for fifty years of preaching and at the close of
their life's task feel that the pages are still exhaustless. The Bible has
inspired literature far beyond its own bulk. It is a small library of
books gathered from many authors, but it has filled great libraries with
commentaries and sermons and discussions. Its brevities have provoked
measureless pages of writing. The world is big, yet it is measurably ruled
by a small Book.
It would seem likewise that a Book written so long ago would fail of the
element of timeliness. That an old volume should keep its place in a new
century is in itself an anomaly. The last of the Bible was penned hundreds
of years since. Accepting the most radical views as to dates, its youngest
book was produced quite more than a millennium and a half ago. Meanwhile
the world has been making amazing progress. We boast of our achievements
in transportation and communication. All ancient things seem to be
outgrown, save only the Bible. The books that were written as
contemporaries of parts of the great Book have either slipped into
oblivion or are known to-day only by the intellectually elect. The
classics are studied by a small circle of scholars. The average man knows
nothing of Virgil, or Cicero, or Homer, by any direct contact with the
works of those authors. But the Bible, which is out of date by the
calendar, is not out of date by its own meaning. It is singularly
contemporaneous. Its different portions were called forth by passing
events and the Book itself is clearly touched by its own times. For all
that, eternity appears to have lodged itself in its contemporaneousness.
The twentieth century, eager and thrilling as it is, accepts a Guide Book
from the distant years. Roman Law and Greek Art are filtered to the new
age through modern channels. The Bible itself comes to us more simple and
more powerful than any modern interpretations of its messages. There is a
sense in which it declines to apply to itself its own figure of speech
about the new wine in the old bottles.
The Bible defies geographical distance as well as calendar distance. For
the most part its record relates to what happened in a small and remote
section of the earth. It reaches its climax in an obscure province which
was smaller than many a modern county. The customs of which it tells are
mostly gone. Sandals and tents and camels and parchments are curiosities
in the new lands and new times. Much of the setting of biblical events is
wholly unknown to our day, and so must be reproduced for our children in
pictures and for our adults in descriptions. An Oriental Book is the chief
literature of an Occidental world.
In spite of its small size, its great age, its cramped geography, its
vivid Orientalism, the Bible keeps its mastery. What is the explanation?
It must be that the Bible appeals to something fundamental in life itself.
The final test of inspiration must, of course, be found in what the Bible
does for life. A book that is not inspiring cannot be proved to be
inspired. It cannot give what it does not have and it must surely have
received what it gives. It would be a mistake, however, to confuse formal
truthfulness with inspiring vitality. The description of a street scene,
dealing with the passing relations of pedestrians, wagons, trees, birds,
houses; the lengths and widths of sidewalks and streets; the figures of
population; the social status of the various groups--all this may be told
with exact and mathematical truthfulness. It may be correct and still not
be inspired or inspiring. On the other hand, the parable of the prodigal
son is a story which in its precise detail may represent something that
never occurred. But it has impressed the world as both inspired and
inspiring. Its words haunt and pierce and coax and subdue men. This
indicates that a story given for a spiritual purpose shows more essential
truthfulness than does a description given for formal exactness. The
reason is that the parable appeals to something fundamental in life
itself. The son and the father are ever with us. God and his children are
the everlasting facts. The story is more true than is the description.
This contrast represents the biblical trend. The Book penetrates through
the husk to the kernel, through superficial facts to deepest truths,
through passing events to eternal meanings. It is the Book of Life.
What gives the Bible this appeal? Whence did it secure its vital quality?
The only reply is that the appeal to life must be born of life itself.
Sometimes a bizarre explanation is given of the source of a religious
volume, the assumption being that a human origin denies a divine origin.
The more men have to do with its production, the less may we presume that
God has touched the work. A curious illustration of this viewpoint is
found in the claim for the Book of Mormon. The story is as follows: A
heavenly visitant appeared to Joseph Smith and told him that in a certain
place he would find the miracle book. Smith obeyed the directions and
found in the place named a box of stone. In this box was a volume half a
foot in thickness. It was written on thin plates of gold, and these plates
were bound together by gold rings. The writing was in a strange language,
but with the book was found a pair of miraculous eyeglasses which
conferred the ability to read the pages. In other words the Book of Mormon
was not born of human life under the guidance of the divine life. It was
the product of a straight miracle, and the power to decipher its meaning
came only by miracle. Such a theory of the origin is easy to understand,
even though it may be difficult to believe. It represents the extreme form
of that faith which minimizes the partnership of man with God in the
making of all genuine gospels of life.
The incarnation was Man and God together. The church is being fashioned by
man and God together; the Spirit and the Bride are colleagues. Worship is
possible only when man and God are together in fellowship. If the Bible
came by any method other than the coworking of man and God, its production
would stand for a departure from the usual divine method. The power of the
Bible, however, grows out of the fact that it is not an abnormal book,
fantastically given to men. There is a humorous story of an old woman who
was discovered in diligent study of the Hebrew alphabet. Asked why at her
age she was beginning to learn so difficult a tongue, she made reply that
when she died she desired to address the Almighty in his own language!
There have been theories of the Bible that are scarcely caricatured by
this tale. If there have been doctrines of the Book that made it the
product of a lonely man, there have likewise been doctrines that made it
the product of a lonely God. Neither doctrine is correct. The Bible grew
out of human life that had been touched and glorified by the divine
presence and power. Because it grew out of life it makes its appeal to its
native element in life itself. It simply claims its own.
A review of the different parts of the Bible will show how true this
statement is. Practically every book is localized and personalized.
Something that happened among men called forth the writing. The names of
the books in the Pentateuch show this fact. Genesis treats of the origins
of the earth and of man, and is an answer to the inevitable question that
springs in the human mind. Exodus treats of the going forth of the Hebrew
people from their Egyptian bondage. Leviticus is a description and
discussion of the Levitical rules. Deuteronomy is a second giving of the
Law and an enlargement of its sphere as well as an enforcement of its
precepts. The Ten Commandments make a human document because their sole
aim is to ennoble and protect human life.
It is so with the historical books. They are the records of actual human
living. Their pages are sprinkled with the names of real men and women.
Joshua, the Judges, Ruth, Samuel, the Kings are all there, eager
participants in earth's affairs under the sense of God. These books are
not theoretical dissertations on life by a dreamer in his closet; they are
rather the general descriptions of life itself as it moved along a period
of seven or eight centuries. They give us the salient and meaningful
happenings among God's chosen people. They tell the story of a crude race
as it is being led forward to the heights. The pages record limitations
and faults simply because they tell us of actual life. The sins of the
Bible's premier heroes are written down with entire frankness. The human
touch is everywhere. We shall not read the historical books long ere we
find that they, too, are human documents. But these human documents,
covered with the names of men and women, are likewise covered with the
ever-recurring name of Jehovah. In the record one discovers man and God.
In the prophetical books the like fact is apparent. The prophets were men
of flesh and blood. They rushed into the prophetic work from the ordinary
occupations of ancient life. From the fields they came, and from the
vineyards. Perhaps one came from a royal palace. Surely not more than one
of them came from the altar of the priesthood. They were men who knew the
shame and glory of contemporary life. They did not hesitate to touch the
politics of their day. They decried kings. They denounced landlords. They
made frontal attacks on all forms of wickedness. Their appeal was for
reality. They declared that God hated all pretense. New moons and feasts
and fasts that did not grow out of devout hearts they declared to be an
insult and an abomination before a righteous God. They talked from life to
life. They came in response to some human demand in their times. They were
not theorists, discussing academic problems of conduct. They were blazing
moral realists. We do not need to detail the list of those forthtellers of
the Word of God. Even the book of Jonah is full of life. Parable,
allegory, history--its descriptions are based in life and its appeal is to
life. In its moral lesson for the individual, and in its missionary lesson
for a narrow race, it offers enough duty to keep life busy for a million
years. If men would heed its lessons for life and cease their petty
debates about the anatomy of whales, the Book would meet them with vital
urgings. The one point now is that the prophetical writings grew out of
life. They did not come encased in stone boxes, written on gold leaves, to
be read and understood only by miraculous spectacles. They came from real
living, and they claim their own wherever real men are living to-day.
We need not follow the same idea into the later books of the Old
Testament. The Proverbs were gathered from the streets of life.
Ecclesiastes is the pronouncement of life vainly satiated. Even the
Psalms, classed as devotional books, were usually evoked by some actual
happening. The king goes out to war; a psalm is penned. The ark is moved
from one place to another; a psalm is written. A man is jaded and
discouraged; a psalm is written to recover him to a consciousness of the
care of Jehovah. A monarch falls into grievous sin; a psalm is written to
express his penitence. A study of any Commentary on the Psalms will show
us that nearly all of these devotional utterances were prompted by some
human experiences. They are the shoutings and sobbings of living men. The
book of Psalms is not the liturgy of academicians. Its processionals and
its recessionals show actual men and women in the real march of life.
In the New Testament this same law of life rules. Jesus comes before the
Gospels. Without the Life there could not have been the record of the
Life. In any worthy Bible life must always come first. This phase will be
treated later. Now it must be emphasized that the entire New Testament
sprang from a Life that was lived among men. The Word must become flesh
before it could become literary record. Grace and truth walked the earth
ere they were traced on pages. Here again the Bible comes from life in
order that it may return to life again.
The statement concerning the New Testament will admit of more detail. The
Gospels grew immediately out of the disciples' life with the Lord. The
Acts grew out of the life of the disciples in their daily contact with
that ancient world. The Epistles all came from some urgency of life. While
there were minor reasons for writing each of them there was still a main
purpose that dictated the writing in every case. The Epistles to the
Thessalonians seek to produce a right attitude toward the doctrine of the
Lord's return. The Epistle to the Romans is a discussion of the doctrine
of justification by faith and the relations of that doctrine to Judaism.
That to the Galatians is both a personal defense of Paul's questioned
apostleship and a declaration of freedom from bondage to the law. The
Philippians grew out of an experience of human kindness, being an
expression of gratitude for help in trouble and sympathy in sorrow. The
Ephesians is a composite of moods--the victories of grace, the hope of the
heavenlies, the expectation of ascension with the glorified Christ, the
nature and aim of the true church. Colossians expresses the universal
Lordship of Christ and tears down every theory that denies the reality of
the incarnation and the utter preeminence of Jesus.
Even those Epistles that are personal in their character deal with
universal life. Philemon reappeared in the contests concerning slavery
both in England and America and scattered the arguments of Christian
democracy. The bondage of men could not well live with the tender
brotherhood that breathes in the letter which Onesimus carried back with
him to his former master. Titus and Timothy are the pastoral advices sent
by the aged apostle to his younger sons in the faith, while one of the
Epistles is the hopeful farewell to earth and a glad trust toward the
Eternal City. Revelation may be filled with strange imagery and may be
shaken by the tremors of a perilous age; but men who know real life will
say that the Beast and the Lamb are not merely wild figures of speech. The
writer of the Apocalypse knew the world, and he knew the churches in its
various cities.
Thus it seems literally true that all the New Testament was penned for the
aid of life. When life went wrong, warning came. When life went aright,
encouragement came. When life was mistaken, correction came. Whether the
need was for doctrine, for reproof, or for instruction in righteousness,
God met the need by the message that he gave to his servants. The Book is
not a series of infallible abstractions; it is rather a vital Guide Book
won from the experience of life's ways. The Bible is not a ready-made
product dropped down from heaven; it is rather a Library made by men in
many ages in partnership with the God who lives with men in all ages. In
the best and truest fashion it makes record of the life of God in the
souls of responsive men. Because it came from life it inevitably seeks
life. It was born of God among men. Therefore, it lives among men with
God.
We may carry the relation of life to the Bible quite beyond this point.
The Bible not only grew from life, but it came back to life for its
testing. Even as there have been theories of the making of the Book that
ignored the element of human living, so have there been theories of the
canon of Scripture that ignored the element of human testing. Years ago a
renowned teacher said to his pupils, "Never go deliberately to work to
make a book. The only volumes worth while are those that grow out of your
deepest life." The advice was good. In a way it suggests the manner of the
Bible's making. There is no evidence whatsoever that any writer of its
pages ever thought that his work would become part of a Bible. No man ever
said, "I will now write a book of the Holy Scripture." Nor did any group
of men assign departments to each other, saying, "We will prepare a divine
Book." The Bible came in no such mechanical way. Written because of life's
needs, as seen in the light of God, it was tested and collected by life's
needs, as seen in that same light. It was once strikingly said that the
words of Jesus were vascular; if you cut them they would bleed. One
shrinks from the metaphor. Yet it presents a truth about the whole Bible.
A Book written by life and selected by life has naturally a message for
life.
How did the books of the Bible secure their place in the canon? The
romancer offers his tradition here again. We find a very fantastic legend
coming down from medieval times to this effect: In the church at Nicæa one
day a great mass of religious writing lay in an indiscriminate heap
beneath the altar. A miracle gave an answer to the question as to what
books should secure permanent places in the Holy Book. The First
Ecumenical Conference was in session. The year was 325 A. D. While man
wondered and questioned, God settled the issue. Suddenly the genuine books
were lifted from the mass of volumes and, without visible power, lay on
the sacred table. The writings miraculously declared uncanonical remained
beneath the altar. This theory of selection corresponds to the theory of
dictation. We have in both cases an active God and a passive man. While it
would be unfair to say that this medieval legend has any modern following,
it is true that certain theories of the selection of the canon resemble it
in that they discount the human factor. Even as God and men worked
together in the writing of the books, so God and men worked together in
the binding of the books into their volume of fellowship. Life that
confessed God and tried to do his will chose the books and decreed that
they should dwell in unity.
As there has been a tendency to overstate the miracle feature in the
selection of the canon, so has there been a tendency to overstate the part
played by the authoritative councils of the church. The assumption has
been that arbitrariness was the chief feature of the whole process.
Certain men met in conference, debated the merits of the several books,
and finally settled by vote what particular writings should have their
place in the Bible of the church. Now while something of this kind did
occur, it is far from the truth to affirm that the councils lacked a
representative capacity. The vote may have been recorded by theologians,
but the vote had previously been determined by the Christian democracy.
Abraham Lincoln wrote the Emancipation Proclamation. His predecessors were
the people. In a dignified sense Lincoln was their clerk, expressing their
will after many years of agitation. The wisdom of the Great Commoner was
shown not only by the personal conviction that he put into the document,
but also by his keen appreciation of the will of the multitude. Though the
parchment of liberty was proclaimed by one man, it is a fact that it was
dictated by many men. Something parallel to this occurred in the selection
of the material of the Bible. Councils played their part; their part,
however, was the part of agents.
This was true of the Old Testament. Many persons may still have the vision
of Jewish officials with long robes and sober faces deciding the ancient
canon. Indeed, there was for long a tradition that Ezra founded a kind of
Imperial Synagogue which continued for not less than two hundred years
and which in that period finished the collection and authorization of the
Old Testament. This synagogue had various presidents, including Nehemiah.
No such organization for the selection of the Scriptures existed. Accurate
ancient history gives no trace of its work. The work of testing the
writings was slow. The arbiter was life. Life had determined the writing.
Life must now determine the authority.
We can catch an interesting glimpse into this process by studying for a
moment the story about Josiah, the young king. Hilkiah, the priest, finds
the book of the law. Shaphan carries the book to the king and reads to him
from the ancient lore. The book quickens the royal conscience. God and the
earthly ancestors of Josiah speak to him from the pages. He is made to
feel how far he and his people have gone from the will of Jehovah. He
rends his clothes. He sends for the human voices of the Most High. Huldah,
the prophetess, is the chief instructor. The people are called back to
their allegiance. The land is purged. A manuscript has done all this. It
inspired the king and his people until abominations fled from Israel. The
land continued in obedience until the archers sent King Josiah to his
sepulcher. That portion of the law that had been read to the king by
Shaphan and had then been delivered to the people proved its inspiring
quality in its effects on life. On that day a portion of the Old Testament
canon was selected.
Doubtless this incident is somewhat typical of a procedure that was more
or less constant. The imperial synagogue was the Jewish people. The debate
that settled issues was the debate of experience. Life was electing its
own books. Words that touched the conscience into an impression of God and
then worked their way outward to the blessing of the multitude were
gaining for themselves the popular vote. Candidates for the canon were
rejected. Other candidates were held in long suspicion. Ecclesiastes,
Proverbs, Esther, Solomon's Song--all these served a long probation ere
they proved themselves worthy of their place. The ancient world, like the
modern world, was not willing to surrender Proverbs, with their homely
wisdom; Esther, with its lesson of loyalty to race and kindred; Solomon's
Song, with its refusal to listen to the blandishments of royal
lasciviousness luring to the betrayal of a true and humble lover; or even
Ecclesiastes, with its pessimism uncured until the writer once more finds
God.
After books secured their place in the authorized list of the Jews, they
had still to contest to keep their place. As late as the first century of
the Christian era, debate was frequent. Life was slow to render its
decision. There was no hasty authority. The final judgment was rendered by
the experience of a race. When Eck reminded Martin Luther that the church
had decided what books should go into the canon and that Luther must
accept a quotation from Second Maccabees as authoritative, the great
Reformer made reply, "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." So it came to pass that in due season
the freed religious consciousness of the church took certain apocryphal
books from the Old Testament canon. That consciousness seemed to feel a
difference in spiritual power between the Apocrypha and the other portions
of the Old Testament. Life was still coming to the polls in order that it,
far more than any stately council, should elect the true Word of God.
This same process of selection went on in relation to the New Testament.
The early Christians started with no New Testament whatsoever. Their Bible
was the Old Testament. We do not find any warrant for saying that they
expected to make additions to the Bible. Jesus came first. Then the
Gospels and Epistles came as natural consequences. The early Christians,
as we shall later see, had received the very purpose and climax of
Revelation, because they had received Christ. But the Gospels and Epistles
which grew up out of life had in their turn to be tested by life.
Believers began by reading these as if they were suggestive; after the
writings had wrought their full impression upon the minds of the
believers, they began to consider them inspired and holy. This decision
did not come abstractly, nor did it come quickly. Gradually the sense of
the value of certain writings grew upon the early church. Almost two
centuries of the Christian era passed ere the collection so commended
itself to believing hearts as to be given definite form. As in the case of
the Old Testament, so in the case of the New, life declined to be hurried
into a decision. The books must prove their authority in the experience of
the people. The Christian republic was engaged in the task of choosing its
Bible from life.
We find, too, that certain books appeared as claimants for permanent
authority that did not win their case. The ancient manuscripts were passed
from church to church and were read to the people. The task of sifting
went surely forward. Directly lists of books that peculiarly commended
themselves to the Christians began to appear. In the first two centuries
such leaders as Irenæus, Clement, and Tertullian present their lists which
show some of our present books omitted, some other books included, and
still other books declared as good but inferior. The Christian
consciousness had not yet reached a confident verdict. But a review of the
period shows the Christian leaders verging toward unanimity. Slowly some
books were eliminated; and slowly other books asserted their right to be
included. By the beginning of the fifth century the canon had been
practically determined. The great Augustine, with his immediate
predecessors and his close successors, reveals the well-nigh unanimous
conclusion to which the church had come. It may well be noted that the
voting booth stood open for almost four hundred years. The Councils of
Hippo and Carthage were simply the servants of the people. The books that
had sprung from life had received the testing of life.
It must be allowed that here, as in the case of the Old Testament canon,
some books had to re-prove their right to the place of authority. The
Council of Trent may have settled the matter for all Roman Catholics, but
it did not irretrievably close the canon for Protestants. It is well known
that Luther himself wished to remove several books from the list, and that
he called the Epistle of James "strawlike." Luther's reason was a
polemical one. He felt that the vivid practicalness of James conflicted
with the principle of justification by faith alone. It is only a stronger
evidence of the demands of life in the selection of the final canon that
even the powerful influence of Luther could not prevail. The church well
knew that the Epistle of James would be a good antidote for any lazy
mysticism. Life voted against Luther in this instance, and life won.
Zwingli wanted to exclude the Book of Revelation from the canon. The
Christian republic felt that beneath all the weird imagery of the
Apocalypse God was speaking by his servant to the churches of all time.
Life voted against Zwingli in this instance, and life won. When life was
given its freedom the most influential voices of authority could not
prevail against its verdicts. This completes the circle. The Bible was
written by life, and the Bible was selected by life.
Perhaps it is well to note that when any portion of the Scripture has been
taken away from the purpose of life, it has lost its note of authority;
when it has been brought back to that purpose of life, it has regained
that note. The Song of Solomon illustrates this point. It had slight hold
on the life of the world as long as it was used as a complex allegory or
symbol relating to Christ and the church. All labored attempts to so
construe the book did the book itself injury. But when the Song was
permitted to recover its own relation to life, it recovered its own power.
The lesson of the book, rightly used, may save many young women from
selling themselves to lascivious luxury and may give them strength against
tempting allurements away from loyal love. However old the world may
become, it will always need that lesson. In some way the Song came from
life; and when it is tested by life, it regains its relation to life.
Released from the strain of an allegorical interpretation, it proves
itself a servant of one of life's holiest causes.
We come now to the primary consideration. The Bible grew from life. The
Bible was tested by life. The Bible climaxes in Life. Jesus said that the
Scriptures testified of him. It is even so. In the Sargent pictures in the
Boston Public Library the prophets are represented as pointing forward to
him. We may even more surely represent the writers of the Gospels and
Epistles as pointing backward to him. The Bible is to be judged by its
goal; and the goal is Christ. Other sacred books, such as the Koran, were
written by one person; the Bible was written by many persons for one
Person. Jesus himself insisted on this. He claimed to surpass the old
revelations. With all his reverence for the Old Testament, he still put
himself above it by words like these: "Ye have heard that it hath been
said by them of olden time, But _I_ say unto you." This is as much as to
affirm that he was the end of a progressive revelation. A skeptic once
said that the whole Bible turns upon Jesus. The skeptic was right. One of
the Gospels gives a word that may safely be applied to the whole trend of
the Bible, "These things are written, that ye might believe that Christ is
the Son of God, and that believing ye might have life through his name."
The very purpose is declared to be that men may be brought to faith in
Christ.
It would be too much to say that all revelation ceased with the closing of
the canon. Lowell's claim that the Bible of the race is written slowly,
that each race adds its texts of hope and despair, of joy and moan, and
that the prophets still sit at the feet of God, cannot be denied. But we
may confidently assert that revelation came to its culmination and crown
in Jesus Christ. When once the essential things concerning him had found
place in a Book, the Bible found its consummation. Thus do we see that the
books that were written by life, and then were tested by life, came to
their climax in Life. The only way to secure a book better than the Bible
is to secure a person better than Jesus. The best men entertain no such
vain expectation because they know that nothing can be more perfect than
Perfection.
We have set forth these three main reasons for the unique influence that
the Bible exercises over life. Some are fond of saying that the Bible is
merely one of many sacred books. Those who have read the bibles of other
races will not be misled by the statement. Max Müller writes that the
Sacred Books of the East "by the side of much that is fresh, natural,
simple, beautiful, and true, contain much that is not only unmeaning,
artificial, and silly, but even hideous and repellent." Of the Brahmanas
he affirms that they "deserve to be studied as the physician studies the
twaddle of idiots and the ravings of madmen." The Koran sets forth a very
fine morality, but it was written by one man and really presents a legal
religion. Moreover it offers no perfect example. The author of the Koran
himself claimed to receive revelations that opened a path to immorality.
One voice declared the authority of the book, and an obedient people
accepted this verdict. The Koran was not written by a wide range of life,
expressing God's dealing with many persons under diverse conditions. It
was not tested for its authority by the free conscience of a people.
Mohammed wrote and adopted his own canon. The Christian's Bible, written
by life, tested by life, and culminating in Life, has come back to life
with transforming power.
The insistence of these chapters is that, when the Holy Scriptures are
given a free opportunity to do their work with life, they prove their own
inspiration. After all, there can be no other proof. The Bible is what it
is, no matter what theory men may adopt as to its formation. It creates
its own evidences. The argument for its inspiration is the life that it
inspires. If the Book gives power and purity to all departments of life,
the Book defends itself against attack and makes its own conquests. Does
the Bible rightly exalt man? Does it sanctify the home? Does it promote
education? Does it glorify work? Does it save wealth from greed, pleasure
from excess, sorrow from despair? These questions reach the center of the
problem.
We can go but one step beyond them, and that step is most significant. Do
we find in the Bible not only a way to be followed, and a goal of truth to
be gained, but a Life that will help lives along the way toward the goal?
Does the Book really reveal the way, the truth, and the life? The answer
must again be found in life. The evidences of dynamic are in the realms
of human experience. More and more the students of the Holy Scriptures,
who seek the pages with a religious purpose, will find that all the
departments of human living wait on Jesus for their meaning and come to
him for their power. He is the Saviour. He lifts men out of their sins, up
into a trembling and glorious idealism, and still up into a passion for
efficient goodness. The supreme apology for the Bible will ever be found
in men who have been so instructed, reproved, and corrected, that they may
be named as perfect men of God, thoroughly furnished unto every good work.
Given its full right, the Book that was born of life, tried of life,
glorified of Life, will find its own best witnesses in redeemed lives.