CHAPTER V

JESUS THE DIVINE MAN

+The centrality of Jesus.+--All that has been said hitherto is but a

preparation for the discussion of the greatest subject that at present

occupies the field of faith and morals, that of the personality of

Jesus and His significance for mankind. It has been repeatedly pointed

out both by friends and foes of the New Theology that the ultimate

question for the Christian religion is that of the place occupied by

its Founder. Who or what was Jesus? How much can we really know about

Him? What value does He possess for the religious consciousness

to-day? All other questions about the Christian religion are of minor

importance compared with these, and if we are prepared with an answer

to these we have by implication answered all the rest. Christianity is

in a special sense immediately dependent upon its Founder. No other

religion has ever regarded its founder as Christians regard their

Master. Christianity draws its sustenance from the belief that Jesus

is still alive and impacting Himself upon the world through His

followers. Other great religions trace their origin to the teaching

and example of some exceptional person; Christianity does the same, but

with the added conviction that Jesus is as much in the world as ever

and that His presence is realised in the mystic union between Himself

and those who know and love Him. If this be true, it is a fact of the

very highest importance and one which can neither be passed over nor

relegated to a subordinate position. Christianity without Jesus is the

world without the sun. If, as I readily admit, the great question for

religion in the immediate future is that of the person of Jesus, the

sooner we address ourselves to it the better.

Before discussing what theology has to say of Him let us note in

general terms what the civilised world is saying, theology or no

theology. I suppose the most out-and-out materialist would admit that

in the western world the name of Jesus exercises an influence to which

no other is even remotely comparable. Perhaps he would even go so far

as to admit that there is no name anywhere which means so much to those

who hear it. It is not merely that the strongest civilisation on earth

reverences that name, but that there is no other civilisation which can

produce a parallel to it. The nearest approach to it is that of

Gautama, and I think it would be generally admitted that the influence

even of this mighty and beautiful spirit has never possessed the

immediacy, intensity, and personal value which distinguish that of

Jesus. It might be maintained with some show of reason that the

civilisation of Christendom, although it is now being copied by

non-Christian communities such as Japan, is not necessarily the highest

because it happens to be the strongest, and that it is even regarded

with contempt by the best representatives of some more ancient faiths.

Still that is not quite the point. The point is that the name of

Jesus, which stands for a moral ideal which is the very negation of

materialism, commands a reverence, and indeed a worship, the like of

which no other has ever received in the history of mankind. It is no

use trying to place Jesus in a row along with other religious masters.

He is first and the rest nowhere; we have no category for Him. I am

not trying to prove the impossible, namely, that Christianity is the

only true religion and the rest are all false. We shall get on better

when that kind of nonsense ceases to be spoken. All I am concerned to

emphasise is that somehow Jesus seems to sum up and focus the religious

ideal for mankind. His influence for good is greater than that of all

the masters of men put together, and still goes on increasing. It is a

notable fact that although churches and creeds are losing their hold

upon the modern mind, the name of Jesus is held in greater regard than

ever. We have heard of a meeting of workmen cheering Jesus and hissing

the churches. In our day most people are agreed that in Jesus we have

the most perfect life ever exhibited to humanity. It is not only

Christians who take this view; everyone, or nearly everyone, does so.

Some years ago a book was published which bore on the title-page the

question, "What would Jesus do?" The book was not very well written,

and I do not think the writer would have claimed that it contained

anything original, but it had an enormous sale simply because of its

attempt to answer the question on the covers. The most unlikely people

bought and read it, people who never went to church and would not dream

of doing so. From indications such as these one is justified in

asserting that our western civilisation has accepted as true that, no

matter who Jesus was, His character represents the highest standard for

human attainment. In seeking moral excellence the individual and the

race are thus moving toward an ideal already manifested in history.

The most effective taunt that can be levelled at inconsistent

Christians is that they are unlike their Master. Criticisms of the

character of Jesus are now few in number, and usually take the form of

declaring that it is impracticable or impossible, not that it is

undesirable or imperfect. Some, no doubt, would maintain that perhaps

the real Jesus did not answer to the ideal which Christians have formed

of Him, but that is another question. Here we are now face to face

with the unescapable fact that the greatest moral and religious force

in the world is embodied in the name of Jesus, and this by general

consent.

+The Jesus of traditional theology.+--But what has traditional

Christian theology to say about Jesus? Here we enter a region in which

the ordinary man of the world does not live and is never likely to

live, but we cannot afford to ignore it. According to the received

theology, Jesus was and is God and man in a sense in which no one else

ever has been or ever will be. As the shorter catechism has it,

following the language of the ancient creeds, "There are three persons

in one God, the same in substance, equal in power and glory," and Jesus

is the second of the three. This kind of statement cannot but be

confusing to the ordinary mind of to-day if only because the word

"person" does not mean to us quite the same thing that it meant to the

framers of the ancient creeds. Strange as it may seem to some of my

readers, I believe what the creeds say about the person of Jesus, but I

believe it in a way that puts no gulf between Him and the rest of the

human race. This, I trust, will become clearer as we proceed; it seems

to me to be implied in any real belief concerning the immanence of God.

I think even the Athanasian creed is a magnificent piece of work if

only the churches would consent to understand it in terms of the oldest

theology of all! But, according to conventional theology, the second

person in the Trinity, who was coequal and coeternal with God the

Father, laid aside His glory, became incarnate for our salvation, was

born of a virgin, lived a brief suffering life, wrought many miracles,

died a shameful death, rose again from the tomb on the second morning

after He had been laid in it, and ascended into heaven in full view of

His wondering disciples. In fulfilment of a promise made by Him

shortly before the crucifixion, and repeated before the ascension, He

and the Father conjointly sent the third person in the Trinity to endue

with power from on high the simple men whose duty it now became to

proclaim the gospel of salvation to the world. Jesus is now on the

throne of His glory, but sooner or later He will come again to wind up

the present dispensation and to be the Judge of the quick and the dead

at a grand assize.

There is a sense in which all this is true, but it is commonly

expressed in such a way that the truth is lost sight of. Literally

understood it is incredible. The only way to get at the truth in every

one of these venerable articles of the Christian faith will be to shed

the husk, and that we must do without hesitation or compromise. A more

accurate historic perspective would save us from the crudities so often

preached from the pulpits in the name of Christian truth, crudities

which repel so many intelligent men from the benefits of public

worship. There never has been the slightest need for any man of

thoughtful mind and reverent spirit to recoil from the fundamentals of

the Christian creed. Rightly understood they are the fundamentals of

human nature itself.

+Godhead and manhood.+--The first in order of thought is that of the

Godhead of Jesus. As regards this tenet I think it should be easily

possible to show that the most convinced adherent of the traditional

theology does not believe and never has believed what he professes to

hold. The terms with which we have to deal are Deity, divinity, and

humanity. A good deal of confusion exists concerning the interrelation

of these three. It is supposed that humanity and divinity are mutually

exclusive, and that divinity and Deity must necessarily mean exactly

the same thing. But this is not so. It follows from the first

principle of the New Theology that all the three are fundamentally and

essentially one, but in scope and extent they are different. By the

Deity we mean--and I suppose everyone means--the all-controlling

consciousness of the universe as well as the infinite, unfathomable,

and unknowable abyss of being beyond. By divinity we mean the essence

of the nature of the immanent God, the innermost and all-determining

quality of that nature; we have already seen that according to the

Christian religion the innermost quality of the divine nature is

perfect love. Show us perfect love and you have shown us the divinest

thing the universe can produce, whether it knows itself to be

immediately directed and controlled by the infinite consciousness of

Deity or whether it does not. It is clear, then, that although Deity

and divinity are essentially one, the latter is the lesser term and is

dependent for its validity upon the former. Humanity is a lesser term

still. It stands for that expression of the divine nature which we

associate with our limited human consciousness. Strictly speaking, the

human and divine are two categories which shade into and imply each

other; humanity is divinity viewed from below, divinity is humanity

viewed from above. If any human being could succeed in living a life

of perfect love, that is a life whose energies were directed toward

impersonal ends, and which was lived in such a way as to be and do the

utmost for the whole, he would show himself divine, for he would have

revealed the innermost of God.

Now let us apply these definitions to the personality of Jesus.

Granted that the devotion of Christians has been right in recognising

in Him the one perfect human life, that is, the one life which

consistently and from first to last was lived in terms of the whole,

what are we to call it except divine? In a sense, of course,

everything that exists is divine, because the whole universe is an

expression of the being of God. But it can hardly be seriously

contended that a crocodile is as much an expression of God as General

Booth. It is wise and right, therefore, to restrict the word "divine"

to the kind of consciousness which knows itself to be, and rejoices to

be, the expression of a love which is a consistent self-giving to the

universal life. "God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in

God and God in him." General Booth is divine in so far as this is the

governing principle of his life. Jesus was divine simply and solely

because His life was never governed by any other principle. We do not

need to talk of two natures in Him, or to think of a mysterious

dividing line on one side of which He was human and on the other

divine. In Him humanity was divinity and divinity, humanity. Does

anyone think that this brings Jesus down to our level? Assuredly it

does not; we are far too prone to be ruled by names. To the ordinary

Christian this explanation of the divinity of Jesus may seem equivalent

to the denial of His uniqueness, but it is nothing of the kind. I have

already devoted some little space to emphasising the obvious fact that

it is impossible to deny the uniqueness of Jesus; history has settled

that question for us. If all the theologians and materialists put

together were to set to work to-morrow to try to show that Jesus was

just like other people, they would not succeed, for the civilised world

has already made up its mind on that point, and by a right instinct

recognises Jesus as the unique standard of human excellence. But this

is not to say that we shall never reach that standard too; quite the

contrary. We must reach it in order to fulfil our destiny and to crown

and complete His work. To stop short of manifesting the perfect love

of God would be to fail of the object for which we are here and to

render the advent of Jesus useless. Christendom already knows this

perfectly well, although it has not always succeeded in expressing it

with perfect clearness. "Beloved, now are we sons of God, and it doth

not yet appear what we shall be, but we know that when He (or rather

it) shall appear, we shall be like Him." In our practical religion we

all, even the most reactionary of us, regard the divinity of Jesus just

in this way. It has no other value. We talk of imitating Him,

conforming to His likeness, showing His spirit, and so on. When we

want a model for courage, fidelity, gentleness, humility,

unselfishness, we promptly turn to Jesus. Even in our relations with

God we try to follow His lead; instinctively we range ourselves with

Him when we address the universal Father; until we come to creed-making

we never think of putting Him on the God side of things and ourselves

on another. Catholic or Protestant, orthodox or unorthodox, Unitarian

or Trinitarian, we all accept in practice the identity of the divine

and human in Jesus and potentially in ourselves. But you make Him only

a man! No, reader, I do not. I make Him the only Man--and there is a

difference. We have only seen perfect manhood once and that was the

manhood of Jesus. The rest of us have got to get there.

+Jesus and Deity.+--This brings us to the further question of the Deity

of Jesus. As a matter of fact, as I have already indicated, this

question, too, has long been settled in practice. If by the Deity of

Jesus is meant that He possessed the all-controlling consciousness of

the universe, then assuredly He was not the Deity for He did not

possess that consciousness. He prayed to His Father, sometimes with

agony and dread; He wondered, suffered, wept, and grew weary. He

confessed His ignorance of some things and declared Himself to have no

concern with others; it is even doubtful how far He was prepared to

receive the homage of those about Him. If there be one thing which

becomes indisputable from the reading of the gospel narratives it is

that Jesus possessed a true human consciousness, limited like our own,

and, like our own, subject to the ordinary ills of life. Once again

everybody knows this after a fashion. The most determined of so-called

orthodox controversialists would hardly try to maintain that the

consciousness of Jesus was at once limited and unlimited. To do so

would be an impossible feat; if Jesus was the Deity, He certainly was

not the _whole_ of the Deity during His residence on earth, whatever He

may be now. But, it may be objected, in His earthly life He was the

Deity self-limited: "He emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant,"

etc. Quite so, but see where this statement leads. The New Theology

can consistently make it, but it is difficult to see how that newer

theology which calls itself orthodoxy manages to do so. Does the

self-limitation of Jesus mean that the Deity was lessened in any way

during the incarnation? Why, of course not, we should all say; the

Deity continued with infinite fulness unimpaired above and beyond the

consciousness of Jesus. Then are we to understand that this

self-limitation of Jesus meant that the eternal Son, or second person

in the Trinity, the Word by whom the worlds were made, quitted the

throne of His glory and lived for thirty-three years as a Jewish

peasant? I think the dogmatic theologian would have some hesitation in

giving an unqualified affirmative to this question, for the

difficulties implied in it are practically insurmountable. Was the

full consciousness of the eternal Word present in the babe of

Bethlehem, for instance? If not, where was it? Questions like these

cannot be answered on the lines of the conventional Christology. The

plain and simple answer to all of them is to admit that the Jesus of

history did not possess the consciousness of Deity during His life on

earth. His consciousness was as purely human as our own. Any special

insight which He possessed into the true relations of God and man was

due to the moral perfection of His nature and not to His metaphysical

status. He was God manifest in the flesh because His life was a

consistent expression of divine love and not otherwise. But He was not

God manifest in the flesh in any way which would cut Him off from the

rest of human kind. According to the received theology, Jesus and

Jesus only, out of all the beings who have ever trodden the road which

humanity has to travel, existed before all ages. We live our

threescore years and ten and then pass on into eternity; He was eternal

to begin with. He comes to earth with a hoary antiquity behind Him, a

timeless life to look back upon; we have just fluttered into existence.

Surely any ordinary intelligence can see that this kind of theologising

puts an impassable gulf at once between Jesus and every other person

who has ever been born of an earthly mother. Certainly it does, the

theologian may declare, and rightly so, for that gulf exists; He

assumed human nature, but He was eternally divine before He did so, and

we are not. I do not need to refute this argument; the trend of modern

thought is already doing so most effectually. It is a gratuitous

assumption without a shred of evidence to support it. Besides,

unfortunately for this kind of statement, the scientific investigation

of Christian origins, and the application of the scientific method to

the history of Christian doctrine have shown us how the dogma of the

Deity of Jesus grew up. It was a comparatively late development in

Christianity, and its practical implications never have been accepted,

although at one time there was a danger that the winsome figure of

Jesus would be removed altogether from the field of human interest and

regard. The Jesus of Michael Angelo's "Last Judgment" is a terrifying

figure without a trace of the lowly Nazarene about Him, and yet this

was the Jesus of the conventional Christianity of the time. It was

through this dehumanising of Jesus in Christian thought and experience

that Mariolatry arose in the Roman church. Could anything be more

grotesque than the suggestion that the mother of Jesus should need to

plead with her son to be merciful with frail humanity? And yet this is

what it came to; the figure of Mary was introduced in order to preserve

a real humanity in our relations with the Godhead. All honour to those

who have called us back to the real Jesus, the Jesus of Galilee and

Jerusalem, the Jesus with the prophet's fire, the Jesus who was so

gentle with little children and erring women, and yet before whom

canting hypocrites and truculent ecclesiastics slunk away abashed.

Upon this recovered Jesus the world has now fixed its adoring gaze, and

it will not readily let Him go again.

+Divine manhood and Unitarianism.+--But then, someone will protest,

this is sheer Unitarianism after all; you do not believe in the Jesus

who is the object of the faith of Christendom, but in one who was only

a man among men; you do not think of Him as very God of very God. Not

so fast; we are busy with names again. Most of us have a tendency to

think that if we can get a doctrine labelled and pigeonholed, we know

all about it, but we are generally mistaken. This is not Unitarianism,

and I do believe that Jesus was very God, as I have already shown. We

have to get rid of the dualism which will insist on putting humanity

and Deity into two separate categories. I say it is not Unitarianism,

for historic Unitarianism has been just as prone to this dualism as the

extremest Trinitarianism has ever been. Like Trinitarianism it has

often tended to regard humanity as on one side of a gulf and Deity as

on the other; it has emphasised too much the transcendence of God. The

sentence quoted above from an orthodox Trinitarian divine about "God's

eternal eminence and His descent on a created world" might just as well

have been employed by an out-and-out Unitarian. Modern Unitarianism is

in part the descendant of eighteenth-century Deism which insisted upon

the transcendence of God almost to the exclusion of His immanence; it

thought of God as away somewhere above the universe, watching it but

leaving the machine pretty much to itself. Unitarianism in the course

of its history from the first century downward has passed through a

good many phases. Present-day Unitarianism is preaching with fervour

and clearness the foundation truth of the New Theology, the fundamental

unity of God and man. But it does not belong to it exclusively, and I

decline to be labelled Unitarian because I preach it too. The New

Theology is not a victory for Unitarianism. If ever the

English-speaking communities of the world should come to be united

under a single flag, would it be just and wise to call them all

Americans? No doubt some of our American cousins would like to think

so, but there is enough of virility and solid worth on the British side

of the question to make that description impossible. The title would

be a misnomer, and in fact an absurdity. The case in regard to the

connection of the New Theology with Unitarianism is not dissimilar. It

is only sectarian Unitarians who would try to claim it for their own

denomination; the best and most outstanding exponents of Unitarianism

would not wish to do anything of the kind, for they know well enough

that historically speaking they have not consistently stood for it any

more than any other denomination. The New Theology does not belong to

any one church but to all. For my own part I would not even take the

trouble to try to turn a Roman Catholic into a Protestant. Let every

man stay in the church whose spiritual atmosphere and modes of worship

best accord with his temperament, but let him recognise the deeper

unity that lies below the formal creeds. The old issue between

Unitarianism and Trinitarianism vanishes in the New Theology; the

bottom is knocked out of the controversy. Unitarianism used to declare

that Jesus was man _not_ God; Trinitarianism maintained that He was God

_and_ man; the oldest Christian thought, as well as the youngest,

regards Him as God _in_ man--God manifest in the flesh. But here

emerges a great point of difference between the New Theology on the one

hand and traditional orthodoxy on the other. The latter would restrict

the description "God manifest in the flesh" to Jesus alone; the New

Theology would extend it in a lesser degree to all humanity, and would

maintain that in the end it will be as true of every individual soul as

ever it was of Jesus. Indeed, it is this belief that gives value and

significance to the earthly mission of Jesus; He came to show us what

we potentially are. This is a great and important issue, which

requires to be treated in a separate chapter.

The New Theology · 第 5 / 14 章