(January, 1880.)
Christmas and Easter are fruitful in panegyrics on Jesus and the
religion which fraudulently bears his name. On these occasions, not only
the religious but even the secular newspapers give the rein to their
rhetoric and imagination, and indulge in much fervid eloquence on the
birth or the crucifixion of the Nazarene. Time-honored platitudes
are brought out from their resting-places and dexterously moved to a
well-known tune; and fallacies which have been refuted _ad nauseam_
are paraded afresh as though their logical purity were still beyond
suspicion. Papers that differ on all other occasions and on all other
subjects concur then, and "when they do agree their unanimity is
wonderful." While the more sober and orthodox discourse in tones
befitting their dignity and repute, the more profane riotously join in
the chorus; and not to be behind the rest, the notoriously misbelieving
Greatest Circulator orders from the profanest member of its staff "a
rousing article on the Crucifixion," or on the birth of Jesus, as
the case may be. All this, however, is of small account, except as an
indication of the slavery of our "independent" journals to Bumble and
his prejudices, before whom they are obliged to masquerade when he
ordains a celebration of his social or religious rites. But here and
there a more serious voice is heard through the din, with an accent of
earnest veracity, and not that of an actor playing a part. Such a voice
may be worth listening to, and certainly no other can be. Let us hear
the Rev. J. Baldwin Brown on "The Reign of Christ." He is, I believe,
honorably distinguished among Dissenters; his sermons often bear marks
of originality; and the goodness of his heart, whatever may be thought
of the strength of his head, is sufficiently attested by his emphatic
revolt against the doctrine of Eternal Torture in Hell.
Before criticising Mr. Brown's sermon in detail I cannot help
remarking that it is far too rhetorical and far too empty of argument.
Sentimentality is the bane of religion in our day; subservience to
popularity degrades the pulpit as it degrades the press. If we desire to
find the language of reason in theology, we must seek it in the writings
of such men as Newman, who contemplate the ignorant and passionate
multitude with mingled pity and disdain. The "advanced" school of
theologians, from Dean Stanley to the humblest reconciler of reason and
faith, are sentimentalists almost to a man; the reason being, I take it,
that although their emotional tendencies are very admirable, they lack
the intellectual consistency and rigor which impel others to stand
on definite first principles, as a sure basis of operation and an
impregnable citadel against attack. Mr. Brown belongs to this "advanced"
school, and has a liberal share of its failings. He is full of eloquent
passages that lead to nothing, and he excites expectations which are
seldom if ever satisfied. He faces stupendous obstacles raised by reason
against his creed, and just as we look to see him valiantly surmount
them, we find that he veils them from base to summit with a dense cloud
of words, out of which his voice is heard asking us to believe him on
the other side. Yet of all men professional students of the Bible should
be freest from such a fault, seeing what a magnificent masterpiece it is
of terse and vigorous simplicity. Mr. Brown and his "advanced" friends
would do well to ponder that quaint and pregnant aphorism of old Bishop
Andrewes--"_Waste words addle questions_." When I first read it I
was thrown into convulsions of laughter, and even now it tickles my
risibility; but despite its irresistible quaint-ness I cannot but regard
it as one of the wisest and pithiest sentences in our literature. Dr.
Newman has splendidly amplified it in a passage of his "University
Sermons," which I gratuitously present to Mr. Brown and every reader
who can make use of it:--"Half the controversies in the world are verbal
ones; and could they be brought to a plain issue, they would be brought
to a prompt termination. Parties engaged in them would then perceive,
either that in substance they agreed together, or that their difference
was one of first principles. This is the great object to be aimed at
in the present age, though confessedly a very arduous one. We need not
dispute, we need not prove,--we need but define. At all events, let us,
if we can, do this first of all; and then see who are left for us to
dispute with, and what is left for us to prove."
Mr. Brown's sermon on "The Reign of Christ" is preached from a verse
of St. Paul's first Epistle to Timothy, wherein Jesus is styled "The
blessed and only Potentate." From this "inspired" statement he derives
infinite consolation. This, he admits, is far from being the best of
all possible worlds, for it is full of strife and cruelty, the wail of
anguish and the clamor of frenzy; but as Christ is "the blessed and only
Potentate," moral order will finally be evolved from the chaos and good
be triumphant over evil. Now the question arises: Who made the chaos and
who is responsible for the evil? Not Christ, of course: Mr. Brown
will not allow that. Is it the Devil then? Oh no! To say that would be
blasphemy against God. He admits, however, that the notion has largely
prevailed, and has even been formulated into religious creeds, "that a
malignant spirit, a spirit who loves cursing as God loves blessing, has
a large and independent share in the government of the world." But, he
adds, "in Christendom men dare not say that they believe it, with the
throne of the crucified and risen Christ revealed in the Apocalypse to
their gaze." Ordinary people will rub their eyes in sheer amazement at
this cool assertion. Is it not plain that Christians in all ages have
believed in the power and subtlety of the Devil as God's sleepless
antagonist? Have they not held, and do they not still hold, that he
caused the Fall of Adam and Eve, and thus introduced original sin, which
was certain to infect the whole human race ever afterwards until the
end of time? Was not John Milton a Christian, and did he not in his
"Paradise Lost" develope all the phases of that portentous competition
between the celestial and infernal powers for the virtual possession of
this world and lordship over the destinies of our race? If we accept
Mr. Brown's statements we shall have to reverse history and belie the
evidence of our senses.
But who is responsible for the moral chaos and the existence of evil?
That is the question. If to say _Christ_ is absurd, and to say the
_Devil_ blasphemy, what alternative is left? The usual answer is: Man's
freewill. Christ as "the blessed and only Potentate" leaves us liberty
of action, and our own evil passions cause all the misery of our
lives. But who gave us our evil passions? To this question no answer
is vouchsafed, and so we are left exactly at the point from which we
started. Yet Mr. Brown has a very decided opinion as to the part these
"evil passions" play in the history cf mankind. He refers to them as
"the Devil's brood of lust and lies, and wrongs and hates, and murderous
passion and insolent power, which through all the ages of earth's sad
history have made it liker hell than heaven." No Atheist could use
stronger language. Mr. Brown even believes that our "insurgent lusts
and passions" are predetermining causes of heresy, so that in respect
both to faith and to works they achieve our damnation. How then did we
come by them? The Evolutionist frankly answers the question without fear
of blasphemy on the one hand or of moral despair on the other. Mr. Brown
is bound to give _his_ answer after raising the question so vividly.
But he will not. He urges that it "presents points of tremendous
difficulty," although "we shall unravel the mystery, we shall solve the
problems in God's good time." Thus the solution of the problem is to be
postponed until we are dead, when it will no longer interest us.
However convenient this may be for the teachers of mystery, it is most
unsatisfactory to rationalists. Mr. Brown must also be reminded that
the "tremendous difficulties" he alludes to are all of his own creation.
There is no difficulty about any fact except in relation to some theory.
It is Mr. Brown's theory of the universe which creates the difficulties.
It does not account for all the facts of existence--nay, it is logically
contravened by the most conspicuous and persistent of them. Instead of
modifying or transforming his theory into accordance with the facts, he
rushes off with it into the cloud-land of faith. There let him remain
as he has a perfect right to. Our objection is neither to reason nor to
faith, but to a mischievous playing fast and loose with both.
Mr. Brown opines that Christ will reign until all his enemies are under
his feet. And who are these enemies? Not the souls of men, says Mr.
Brown, for Christ "loves them with an infinite tenderness." This
infinite tenderness is clearly not allied to infinite power or the
world's anguish would long since have been appeased and extinguished,
or never have been permitted to exist at all. The real enemies of Christ
are not the souls of men, but "the hates and passions which torment
them." Oh those hates and passions! They are the dialectical balls with
which Mr. Brown goes through his performance in that circle of _petitio
principii_ so hated by all logicians, the middle sphere of intellects
too light for the solid earth of fact and too gross for the aerial
heaven of imagination.
It will be a fitting conclusion to present to Mr. Brown a very
serious matter which he has overlooked. Christ, "the blessed and only
Potentate," came on earth and originated the universal religion nearly
two thousand years ago. Up to the present time three-fourths of the
world's inhabitants are outside its pale, and more than half of them
have never heard it preached. Amongst the quarter which nominally
professes Christianity disbelief is spreading more rapidly than the
missionaries succeed in converting the heathen; so that the reign of
Christ is being restricted instead of increased. To ask us, despite
this, to believe that he is God, and possessed of infinite power, is to
ask us to believe a marvel compared with which the wildest fables are
credible, and the most extravagant miracles but as dust in the balance.