Title: Theological study today : addresses delivered at the seventy-fifth anniversary of the Meadville Theological School, June 1-3, 1920.
Publisher: Chicago : University of Chicago Press, 1921.
Tag(s): theology, doctrinal; religious education; social ethics; unitarian churches history; philosophy and religion; unitarians; catholic church relations unitarian church; theological; theological study; religious; testament; jesus; religion; study today; new testament; worship; theology; old testament; gospel; historical; systematic theology; social
Contributor(s): Eric Lease Morgan (Infomotions, Inc.)
Versions: original; local mirror; HTML (this file); printable; PDF
Services: find in a library; evaluate using concordance
Rights: GNU General Public License
Size: 56,834 words (short) Grade range: 14-17 (college) Readability score: 43 (average)
Tweet Bookmark this on Delicious
Discover what books you consider "great". Take the Great Books Survey.
REGIS BIBL. MA) COLLEGE THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO PRESS CHICAGO. ILLINOIS THE BAKER AND TAYLOR COMPANY NEW VORK THE CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS LONDON THE MARUZEN-KABUSHIKI-KAB3HA TOKYO, OSAKA, KYOTO, FUKUOKA, SISDAI THE MISSION BOOK COMPANY THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY F ADDRESSES DELIVERED at the SEVENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY of the MEADVILLE THEOLOGICAL SCHOOL, JUNE 1-3, 1920 REGIS BBBL. MAJ. COLLEGE THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO PRESS CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 7S830 COPYRIGHT 1921 BY THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO All Rights Reserved Published June 1921 Composed and Printed By The University of Chicago Press Chicago, Illinois, U.S.A. FOREWORD The addresses which follow were given at the seventy-fifth anniversary of the founding of the Meadville Theological School, June i, 2, and 3, 1920. They are now put into permanent form both as a record of this anniversary and as a landmark in the history of theological science and theological teaching. The School was founded in 1844 to train ministers for the Unitarian churches of the West. During its early years it was also used as a ministerial training-school by the churches of the Christian connection. It has played a not insignificant part in the teaching of theology in America, in spite of obstacles which might now be considered insurmountable. It was for years without endowment and without a library worthy of the name. Only one of the two young professors who constituted its first faculty had been settled over a church. It was located in a small village of strong Calvinistic tendencies, many miles from any important cultural or educational center. The nearest Unitarian church was one hundred and forty miles away. The minister of this church, who served the School as a non-resident professor of pas toral care, was compelled to make a journey of forty miles by stage at the end of a hundred-mile journey by water. Access to Meadville from the south meant a stage journey of one hundred miles from the Ohio River. vi FOREWORD The School was founded in an era of theological controversy, and the members of its faculty were debarred from the fellowship of the theological world, with the single exception of the Divinity School of Harvard University. They were eligible to mem bership in no theological society. The standard of admission was at first necessarily low. Applicants were expected to know something about English gram mar, geography, arithmetic, and the elementary principles of natural philosophy; but even this mod est requirement was not % insisted on from men already in the ministry. In spite of these obstacles the seventy-five years of the School s life are years of which it need not be ashamed. Its graduates have penetrated to every corner of the United States and Canada where there were churches which they were eligible to serve, or missionary outposts in search of ministers animated by a spirit of adventure. They have acquitted themselves with distinction in positions of influence, and they have not been ashamed to serve in lowly places. No better service was ever rendered to the cause of pure religion by Meadville graduates scattered from the Atlantic to the Pacific than is being rendered at the present time. Never have they been in charge of more important posts, and never have these posts been more effec tively manned. A tree is known by its fruits. Meadville is content to be thus known and judged. FOREWORD vii Why is it that, considering the crudity of the tools with which the School was for many years compelled to work, its output has been of so high a quality? The answer is threefold. In the first place, though admission to the School was at first easy, as it was indeed in other seminaries of three- quarters of a century ago, the classroom standard was exacting and the erudition of its professors was, con sidering the time and place, amazing. The quality of the work done in the classroom compared favorably from the very beginning with that which was done in the most highly favored institutions of the East. In the second place, the founders of the School were men of God. Harm Jan Huidekoper, coming to Meadville from Holland at the beginning of the last century, put into the founding of the School the spirit which had animated his life, the spirit of devotion to the living God. That was the spirit which animated his son, Professor Frederic Huide koper, and the first president, Rufus Stebbins. The teaching of the School was infused from the beginning with an atmosphere of manly and earnest piety. In the third place, the founders of the School were men of vision. Though they believed intensely in the conclusions at which they had arrived, they believed even more strongly that theological study should be prosecuted in the freedom of the truth. This proposi tion was written at the beginning into the charter of the School. From the day of its foundation all its privileges were open to students of good character viii FOREWORD and high ideals, regardless of theological opinions. And thus the foundation of the School was laid not only deep but broad. Some of the views which were set forth in the classroom concerning the Old Testament by President Stebbins, and concerning the New Testament by Professor Huidekoper, have been outgrown and rejected even in strongholds of orthodoxy. But the high standards of scholarship and the fine consecra tion which they brought to their tasks, along with the clear vision demanding devotion to the truth at the expense, if necessary, of any previous formulation of truth, which has characterized the School for seventy-five years these constitute its distinctive quality and its distinctive contribution to theological education. By means of increased resources the opportunities of the School have been greatly expanded. It now possesses an adequate faculty and a large and growing library. By non-resident lectureships it is kept in contact with the outer world and brought into touch with modern problems. Admission to the theological course now demands previous college preparation. The School is affiliated for a quarter of the year with the Divinity School of the University of Chicago and is taking steps to erect a building of its own near the gateway of that University. No longer in a spirit of barren and unfruitful controversy, or in a spirit of voluntary isolation from the other institutions which are training ministers of FOREWORD ix religion in other fellowships, is the work of the School to be carried on. It is significant that a goodly number of such institutions were represented at the seventy-fifth anniversary and that professors from several of these have taken part, with our own faculty, in giving the addresses printed in this volume. All this is a foreshadowing of the time when the intrusion of the sectarian spirit into theological teaching will become a sin against the Holy Ghost, and when the pure devotion to truth, which char acterizes the university at its best, will characterize the intellectual processes of the seminary as well. F. C. S. TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGE I. THE HISTORY or RELIGIONS i The Historical Study of Religions James Bissett Pratt, Ph.D., Professor of Philosophy, Williams College II. THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 25 Philosophic Conceptions on Which Further Religious Progress Depends George Rowland Dodson, Ph.D., Associate Professor of Philosophy, Washington University III. THE OLD TESTAMENT 53 Old Testament Study Today Henry Preserved Smith, D.D., Professor of Hebrew and the Cognate Languages, and Librarian, Union Theological Seminary IV. THE NEW TESTAMENT 75 New Testament Study Today Clayton Raymond Bowen, Th.D., Frederic Henry Hedge Professor of New Testa ment Interpretation, Meadville Theologi cal School V. CHURCH HISTORY 106 History in Theological Education Ephraim Emerton, Ph.D., Winn Professor of Ecclesiastical History, Emeritus, Harvard University xi xii TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGE VI. SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY 131 The Modern Theological Method Francis Albert Christie, D.D., James Free man Clarke Professor of Church History, Meadville Theological School VII. RELIGIOUS EDUCATION 158 Education in Worship Theodore Gerald Soares, Ph.D., D.D., Pro fessor of Homiletics and Religious Educa tion and Head of the Department of Practical Theology, Divinity School, University of Chicago VIII. SOCIAL ETHICS 183 The Equipment of the Minister as a Social Reformer Robert James Hutcheon, A.M., Caleb Brew- ster Hackley Professor of Sociology, Ethics, and the Philosophy of Religion, Meadville Theological School IX. PRESIDENT S ADDRESS 200 The Modern Minister: His Training and His Task Franklin Chester Southworth, D.D., LL.D., President and Professor of Practical The ology, Meadville Theological School THE HISTORY OF RELIGIONS THE HISTORICAL STUDY OF RELIGIONS If one were seeking a paradox, it might be said , with some approximation to truth, that the intel lectual Western world of our generation has redis covered religion almost in the act of losing it. Of course we have always known that religion, including even the non-Christian religions, has had a great influence upon human life and human history. But what till recently we have somehow missed is the fact that religion is one of the most fundamentally human of institutions; that it is not merely a col lection of more or less extraneous and avoidable beliefs, superstitions, and ritualistic acts, but is, rather, a plant whose roots lie deep in the subsoil of human nature. We are learning also that this is true not only of religion as such, but, in a less degree, of each of the historical religions; that each of them is inextricably intertwined with the social institutions, the political currents and crises, even the geography, and most of all with the psychology of the various peoples who have developed them and who have been developed by them. This new realization of the essentially human nature of religion and of its enormous importance in the individual and social life has in our day given to the study of the history 2 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY of religions a new impetus and a new direction. Correlatively with this new interest in the history of religions, partly as cause and partly as effect, we have come into the possession of an enormous amount of new material for our study an amount so vast that it both lures and inspires the student and at the same time overwhelms and nearly discourages him by its sheer immensity. Leaving out of account the various religious ideas and practices of primitive peoples, we have for investigation no less than nine living and five dead religions, concerning all but two of which our information, though not so great as one could wish, is considerable and in some cases massive. This mass of information pours in upon the student of the history of religions from the traveler, the missionary, the archaeologist, the philologist, the historian, the geographer, the sociologist, the psychologist, and must be worked over, sifted, and co-ordinated. In this great and confusing work it is plainly imperative that the student should have a clear idea of what he means by religion, and what the aim of the history of religion is to be. And though writers on this subject are often too busy to formulate these things into words, and when they do so often verbally disagree, their practice is better than their theory, and they will be found to have pursued a fairly steady and consistent course in co-operation with each other. Judging, then, not by their words but by their deeds and their results we may, I think, formulate the meaning of religion which the majority THE HISTORY OF RELIGIONS 3 of students have implicitly accepted or taken for granted and acted upon in some such way as the following: Religion is the attitude of individuals and societies toward the Power or Powers which they conceive as having ultimate control over their interests and destinies. If we tentatively accept this defini tion, we may add that the aim of the history of reli gions is to find out what men have believed and felt and how they have acted in relation to the Deter miner of Destiny, and to understand why they have so done. While this may be accepted as a fair statement of the aim of all the students of our subject, the methods both of investigation and of exposition which they make use of are by no means so easily unified. The particular methods employed are of course numerous, and properly so, and the leading ones will engage our attention shortly; but before taking them up in turn I wish to point out three divergent general ways of viewing the subject and attacking its problems, all of which may be found among contemporary writers and among which it seems to be desirable that the student should make a deliberate choice. The first of these, for want of a better term, I shall call the Inspirational way. You all recognize what I mean. The Inspirational school is impatient of details, uses facts merely for illustration, is interested only in the " larger view/ the "inner meaning," the "spiritual message," of the religion under study, and, having squeezed the 4 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY juice quite easily from each of the great religions, throws the pulp aside and passes on with graceful stride to other sources of spiritual delight. The second school, which I may call the Factual, is at the antipodes of this. It cares not for juice but only for pulp and the dryer the pulp the better. Its ideal is not that of spiritual delectation (which on the whole it rather scorns) but that of scholarly exactness and of objective truthfulness. Let values take care of themselves, it declares; what we want are the facts. And by the facts it usually means such things as the minutiae of some ancient cult or the superstition of some primitive tribe. With that odd asceticism so frequently met with in the modern scholar, it generally avoids, almost with suspicion or fear, the philosophies and the poetry of the higher religions, and with stern austerity focuses its attention upon various minute or unrelated details, against which at any rate the accusation of spirituality can never be raised. I have of course exaggerated, and purposely exaggerated, these two ways of writing the history of religions; hardly any reputable student of the subject could be said to employ either one exclu sively. But they are two tendencies each of which will be found fairly well exemplified in several fairly distinguished writers on what is often referred to by that astonishing title " Comparative Religion." The third way of going at our subject is of course the attempt to retain what was best in both of the extreme methods and to avoid the limitations of THE HISTORY OF RELIGIONS 5 each. We might call this the Way of Scholarly Insight. Those who adopt this middle way are quite as empirical in their study as are the members of the Factual school, but it cannot be said that they have the same reverence for the isolated fact as have their colleagues. They too insist on starting with facts, but they are not satisfied to end with them; they too want to accumulate facts, but they desire also to understand them. They share with the fact-collector something of the latter s disdain for easy generalization and for merely sentimen tal gusto; but while they would scorn themselves should they seek merely to suck the sweet juice of their subject, they are by no means satisfied with its dry pulp after all the juice has been sucked out. In short, they seek neither concentrated juice nor a sucked orange, but the whole fruit in its living perfection. They insist that the facts of the world s religions must be gathered and studied with patient and scholarly care and exactness, but, though they regard all the facts as worthy of study, they do not regard them all as of equal value. And the most important of the facts, the most worthy of scholarly examination, they consider to be the fundamen tal meanings, the ultimate conceptions, the moral ideals and incentives, the emotional reinforcements, which the various great religions have contributed to the spiritual life of their members. Of the various particular methods used by the stu dents of our subject to formulate an exact description 6 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY of the myths and creeds, the cults, customs, and ideals of the various historical religions, I need say nothing, for they are obvious and known to all. Since the days of Herodotus travelers have collected curious religious facts, and historians have chronicled them; and for the last two generations in particular, the archaeologist and the philologist have vied with the historian and the traveler and with learned native adherents of the various religions in furnishing the student of religious history with all sorts of material out of which to construct as complete a picture as he may of the present status of the nine great religions, and of the whole life-story or natural history which they and their five dead brothers present. But when the student of religion has finished this part of his task, the most difficult and perhaps the most important portion still remains to do. For he should not, and the true scholar cannot, be satisfied with merely a description of what the various religious people of the world believe and how they act. The mere fact-collector, or the fanatical zealot, or the globe-trotter, or the smugly self-satisfied Yankee or British reader, may, indeed, note with interest and perhaps with glee the seemingly preposterous beliefs and ritualistic actions of the " heathen" and will care to do no more than to set them down for publi cation in fat and learned volumes, or to advertise them abroad for the edification of the faithful, or to bring them out in conversation at home for the THE HISTORY OF RELIGIONS 7 greater glory of Anglo-Saxon common sense, as the interest of each may direct; but the thoughtful scholar finds in these facts only a new challenge, only a new problem in need of a solution. For it is civilized human beings, some of them of our own Aryan race, men whose intelligence and sincerity are really not to be questioned it is often people of this sort who actually accept these seemingly incred ible creeds, who actually perform these seemingly absurd rites. Surely it must be that though we have the " facts" we do not yet understand them, we have not yet begun to get at the bottom of the matter; and our enormous erudition is but a kind of learned illusion until we have found out what is behind and underneath our " facts" and why it is that the so-called heathen peoples believe and worship as they really do. The problem of explanation is not a modern one. Nor does it arise only concerning religions to which the student or questioner does not himself belong. In many, and probably in all, of the great religions the question was raised long, long ago as to the explanation of its own creed and cult. In all of these cases the first answers were identical: Both the cult and the creed were due to some sort of authoritative or divine revelation. This was simple and satisfying. But when the problem arose of explaining some foreign religion, plainly some other hypothesis was needed. We know how our own Christian Fathers met this problem a very pressing one in their day. The 8 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY Pagan cults and myths, they insisted, were, like the Christian Scriptures, to be referred to a kind of supernatural revelation, but this revelation came not from God but from the devils. In contrast to this view, the Epicurean thinkers of the time had a much more scientific form of explanation, and one which they applied to all religions. These were due, namely, to mere ignorance and fear. As everyone knows, this view received its most elaborate exposition in Lucretius great philosophic poem, and its most epigrammatic expression in Petronius oft-quoted assertion, Primus in orbis timor fecit deos. Later on by a millennium and a half the same explanation crops up again at least as far as the non-Christian religions are concerned in the writings of the deists and of their like-minded opponents. Priests and skilled politicians, according to this view, in order to keep the masses in subjection, invented the various religions and very likely most of morality as well and disseminated them among the people. Fortu nately for the reputation of the eighteenth century one of its greatest thinkers David Hume saw the absurdity of such a view ; and the new historical sense, which was the nineteenth century s chief contribution to the intellectual life, forever put an end to such mechanical methods of explanation. The modern student of our subject feels that he cannot fully understand a religion until he has had recourse to a number of allied fields of investigation. Among the most fundamental of these is geography. THE HISTORY OF RELIGIONS 9 If the student confines his attention to one religion, to be sure, he may not be greatly impressed with the influence of geographical and climatic environment, but if he makes a comparative study of religious ideas and institutions he can hardly fail to note how the beliefs and customs and symbols of the different peoples have varied with the latitude, the altitude, the rain supply, and the many other factors which are studied by the modern geographer. Rain gods and sun gods and sea gods, fearful and loving, benefi cent, intriguing, indifferent, the divine wrath of the tempest, the serene calm of Olympus with what almost pathetic eagerness have the sons of men stretched out hands of faith to the details of their physical environment for forms and symbols in which to clothe the Determiner of Destiny! The geographical influences are elemental but somewhat elementary. For explanation of the devel opment of a religion, especially in its intellectual and moral aspects, one must turn to the political, economic, and social experiences of the people who profess it. The form of tribal or national organi zation may have little effect upon the forms under which they image forth their God, but will often have a profound influence upon the inner nature of that God as they conceive him. The forms of their industry, the economic conditions of their life, will modify to a greater or less degree many of their religious conceptions. Other social influences will go deeper still. The very sharp contrast between the io THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY essentially moral Yahweh and the only partially moralized Zeus or Indra is to be explained in part by the difference in social or tribal organization between the ancient Israelites, on the one hand, and their contemporaries, the Greeks and Indians. It would be superfluous in this presence to point out how human kingship, political conquest, and above all the historical development of the various peoples of antiquity got themselves reflected in the developing characters of their gods. Many a scholarly work on some aspect of the history of religions has been written with no other methods of interpretation and explanation than those which I have thus briefly sketched. With such tools one can indeed find out what the various peoples have believed and done and to some extent can understand why their creeds and their cults have developed in the ways we find. But a method of investigation which goes no farther than this still leaves much undiscovered which many of us would gladly know. It goes indeed much farther than mere description, but it fails to bring us to the heart of the matter. We should like, if we may, to understand the various non- Christian religions from within, to catch at least a glimpse of the way they appear to those born within the fold, to apprehend something of their inner religious life, in short, not merely to observe these religions from without, but to know something of how they feel. To do this may be very difficult, but until we have made at least a beginning THE HISTORY OF RELIGIONS n at it the " heathen" religions will still be in a large sense incomprehensible to us. We shall understand them, perhaps, as we understand molecules and masses, but in no more inner and living fashion. For such an inner comprehension we must turn from geography and even from history and economics and government to the psychology of religion. The problem why people believe and worship as they do is in part a social, in part an individual, one; and the problem in the case of any given generation, and therefore in all the generations, cannot be under stood until we have studied the psychological pro cesses by which tradition is handed on. It is easy, of course, to say that tradition is handed on by educa tion and imitation; but to stop with that would be to satisfy ourselves with words. For a really enlighten ing view of "the matter we must study in some detail the nature of individual belief and of the social pro cesses of imitation, suggestion, and sympathy. No detailed examination of these things, of course, is possible within the limits of this paper, but I may perhaps in a few words indicate the general outlines of the psychological processes involved. As someone has put it, " belief is as natural as breathing." The child accepts as real whatever is presented to him. Doubt of its reality is not among the conceivabilities. This native state of the human mind has been called " primitive credulity, " a term we owe to Bain and which includes within itself a whole chapter of psychology. Yet while the tendency to 12 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY believe whatever is presented is by no means con fined to childhood, but characterizes every doubting Thomas when not on his guard, it is a tendency which at times, even early in life, is balked by the divergent nature of human experience. The child naturally believes everything he sees and everything that is told him. But there comes a time when something he is told is flatly contradicted by something that he sees. Doubt now arises as a new and perplexing experience, and a choice must be made between authorities. In the struggle between rival claimants to belief several factors combine to determine the result. One of the most important of these is the vividness, strength, and prestige which sense per ception invariably gives to every idea with which it is closely connected. To see is to believe. Another almost equally important factor in the psychology of belief, especially with more mature and developed minds, is inner and outer coherence. A view or teaching whose parts obviously conflict with each other is likely to dissolve, to analyze itself almost automatically into its constituent elements unless indeed it possess sufficient authoritative or emotional strength to force one to blink the inner inconsistency. Outer incoherence, i.e., inability to fit into our already accepted body of beliefs, is for every new teaching an almost more serious weakness. The new is judged by the old, and if its inconsistency with the old and revered be recognized the chances of its acceptance will be very poor indeed. The emotional THE HISTORY OF RELIGIONS 13 appeal of a given idea, moreover, and its tendency to confirm or deny our desires are further elements to be considered in explaining the acceptance and retention or the rejection of an idea. Of these various factors determining human belief perhaps the most important is primitive credulity, especially if we consider it in connection with the enormous prestige which the social source of information possesses over our minds a force so great as to be explicable only by the fact that it is based on our gregarious instinct, back of which we need not go. The child is born into the world of grown-ups, and is as defenseless against the power of their beliefs as he would be against the force of their arms. Nature has endowed him both with the suggestibility and primitive credulity which we have been considering, and also with an irresistible tend ency to share the contagious emotions which those around him express, and to imitate their actions. How, then, would it be possible for him even to doubt the religious beliefs or escape the religious feelings which all those older than himself unite in forcing upon his plastic mind? "One generation shall praise Thy works to another and shall extol Thy mighty acts." Thus each generation works upon its successor in irresistible fashion. This process of religious molding of each young mind is both deliberately explicit and unconscious and in direct. The child is taught by its parents and by the priest in the temple or the monk in the vihara 14 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY certain traditional ideas which the entire community accepts; but the indirect influence of the tradition upon his mind is even more massive. For the ideas in question form the background and the presupposition of much of the conversation and much of the action and of the feeling of the whole community. The only way in which the individual could come to question them would be (as we have seen) by finding them in some way incongruous either with themselves or with an established system of belief. But it is only a very few of the religious beliefs of mankind that are really inconsistent with themselves, and such inconsistency when it exists is usually evident only to the exceptionally thoughtful. And as to outer incongruity of the traditional belief, that is usually out of the question, for the tradition is the first of all ideational systems to get possession of the mind, and it therefore becomes the touchstone by which all other beliefs have to be tried and accepted or rejected. When one understands the psychological process by which the tradition is thus handed down to each successive generation, one no longer wonders how it is that the people of other lands than ours come to believe such strange things. One, in fact, is put upon inquiry whether the touchstone by which we at first judge their ideas to be strange namely our own inherited mass of beliefs might not rightly seem strange to intelligent visitors from other faiths. It might seem strange to them, we may reply, because they would not really understand our faith. THE HISTORY OF RELIGIONS 15 This is true. But the application of it works both ways. Part of our difficulty in vitalizing for our selves the creeds of other religions in feeling our way into the living heart of these faiths is due to the fact that we substitute for their actual beliefs the form of words in which those beliefs have been cast either by the believers themselves or by those who report them to us. We take the outer symbol for the inner life, and we do this because we have failed to understand the psychology of symbolism. For the forms of creed and of cult possessed by the more intelligent and spiritual of the great historical religions are always to some extent, and often to a very great extent, symbolic. Doubtless the verbal symbol was at the time of its origin an attempt at the literal statement of some genuine belief, just as the material symbol has probably developed from objects which originally were regarded as somehow divine or magically powerful in their own right. But much water has flowed under the bridges since those early days; and the symbol, whether material or verbal, has inevitably come to mean both less and more. Many of the devout and orthodox adherents of the great religions care little and think little of the literal meaning of their symbols; and even to the less intelligent and the more literally-minded masses the symbol has taken on during the course of ages new meaning and a new emotional significance which largely overshadow its literal side and have quite transformed its total value. Thus it comes i6 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY that to the outside observer the symbols of a foreign religion seem always meager and usually unattractive if not disgusting. For in the making of its symbols each of the great religions usually takes some common objects of superstitious regard or some expressions of perhaps crude belief, wears off their edges by centuries of loving use, pours round them the accumu lating emotion of the faith of generations, purifies them through all the fiery trials, the failures and successes, the joys and the sufferings, of the race, ennobles them by identification with the spiritual ideals and aspirations of countless heroes and saints who from their labors rest, and thus endows them with a power over the imagination and the emotions and the living faith of each growing individual mind that can come only through the massive authority and prestige of the entire community, both living and dead. Much of what I have been saying applies to cult quite as well as to creed. A perfectly accurate account of the ritual, say of Hinduism or Buddhism, from the pen of the most scholarly student of the history of religions may give us no more insight into its real nature, no more apprehension of what is actually going on, than we should get from a photo graph. A photograph of a religious ceremonial may be of considerable assistance to our understanding. But where is the color, where the incense, where the music ? The scholar s description shows accurately the positions and the movements of the various THE HISTORY OF RELIGIONS 17 physical bodies, both inanimate and animate; but it may leave out of account the fact that there are minds and hearts inside some of those bodies, and may give us no clue as to how intelligent people can possibly say and do the things described. To understand the cult we must, therefore, not merely have it accurately described, we must not only be able to trace its historical development and see what external influences have helped to formulate it: we must also study the psychological function which it plays in the life of religion. This function may be said, in brief, to consist in keeping faith lively and vivid, in stimulating religious emotion, and in fasten ing the attention upon religion in such fashion as to make it real and vital to the worshiper. This function it performs in various ways. One of the most impor tant ways in which the cult particularly its "cruder forms" strengthens religious belief is by bringing it new reality of feeling by contact with the senses. In studying belief we saw how greatly the sense of reality is stimulated by direct perception. The cult seizes upon this fact and links up the divine object of faith with immediately presented visible and tangible things. Psychologically speaking, this is the chief religious function of pictures, images, miracle plays, relics, and even of so sacred a ceremonial as the Christian Eucharist. The most widespread and perhaps the crudest instance of this aspect of the cult is to be found in idolatry. For nearly all human minds, particularly for those of a relatively slight i8 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY intellectual development, it is difficult to make either a transcendent or an omnipresent deity a very living reality. When, however, the religious imagination is stimulated by the presence of a visible and tangible object an object not indeed completely identified with the deity but regarded as one in which the deity has consented mysteriously and graciously to dwell the sense of God s reality and of his very presence becomes easy and natural, the prayerful attitude of the soul is induced, and the worshiper may take away with him something of the same reinforcement to faith, something of the same spiritual uplift, which many a Christian feels, and rightly feels, after having partaken of the Lord s Supper. And again let me repeat that a true understanding of symbolism is essential for a true understanding of ritual. For neither the idol nor any other object used in the cult can be rightly understood if it be taken literally and only so. The idol may be worshiped as directly as you please; it may be identified literally with the god; yet to the most unintelligent worshiper it is not merely wood and stone, the work of men s hands. He sees in it more, much more, than a camera can see or a chemical analysis can discover, more, much more, also than an unsympathetic though scholarly observer can ever imagine. And to the more intel ligent and spiritual worshiper of every religion the wood and stone are consciously recognized as merely incidental helps, to be prized and used only because of our finite limitations. THE HISTORY OF RELIGIONS 19 The contrast I have just referred to between the two ways of using images is a part of a larger distinc tion between two types of worship which, in another connection, and for want of better terms, I have called the objective and the subjective a distinction which, it seems to me, gives considerable assistance in understanding the varying forms of different religions. In its simpler and less self-conscious forms, worship is an effort to thank or praise or in some manner mollify or please the deity. It is naively objective in its aim. This, for example, is the leading purpose of much of the worship that one finds alike in the Hindu temple and in the Catholic cathedral. To produce any sort of psychological effect upon the worshipers is among the last things intended. The effect, however, is produced, as we have seen the faith is stimulated, the prayerful attitude of mind is brought about, religious emotions and possibly moral aspirations are induced in the worshiping auditors. The more self-conscious and reflective individuals and religions perceive this fact, and some of them, therefore, make this subjective effect of ritual the direct object of their efforts a situation which we find in the less sophisti cated individuals and communities among Buddhists, Jainas, and Protestant Christians. The two motives are mingled in most cases, but one or the other usually predominates; and it is frequently difficult for an individual accustomed from childhood to a form of worship which accentuates one of these 20 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY factors to see anything whatever in a religious cere mony which emphasizes chiefly the other form. This is an additional reason why the Protestant Christian is likely to regard not only the Hindu temple- worship but also the Catholic mass as mere " mummery and superstition"; while both the Hindu and the Catholic would wonder what there was really religious about a Protestant church service, with its godless and altar- less meeting house, its sermon, its " selection by the choir," and even its "long prayer," all seemingly addressed to the audience. Prayer is another matter upon which the history of religions needs light from the psychology of religion. There is probably nothing in the actions of a strange people which to an unsympathetic and unimaginative observer seems more strange and unintelligible than their prayers. Such an observer will get but little assistance from reading the voluminous compilations of prayers ancient and modern wrought out by the labors of our archaeologists and philologists; nor in his effort to understand why people actually pray, and why they repeat such strange prayers, will he be greatly helped by the ingenious theories of the anthropologists as to how prayer originated from spell. He will indeed get some light if he observes it may be by his own introspection how spell tends to originate from prayer. For by observing how spontaneous prayer crystallizes, through the force of habit, into formal prayer, and how formal prayers which possess the prestige of long social usage come TEE HISTORY OF RELIGIONS 21 to be regarded as somehow sacred, he will understand how inevitable it is that many ancient prayers should gain a power over the unreflecting mind quite comparable to that sometimes possessed by magic formulas. Given the facts of primitive cre dulity, habit, and the prestige of antiquity, it is not strange that many of the less intelligent in every religion should pray as if they were to be heard for their much speaking. But this gives one only a very partial understanding of the nature of prayer and of the question why men pray. A deeper study of the religious consciousness will be necessary if one is to understand what real prayer whether Christian or heathen is like on its inner side. For if one asks prayerful people and that means common people why they pray, he will probably be told, not that it is from habit, but that they pray because they cannot help doing so. The consciousness of human weakness and the burning human needs com bine to make men stretch out their arms in appeal to the Determiner of Destiny. The longing is a psycho-dynamic force and will get itself somehow expressed, whether it be in a mere cry, in a consciously formed petition, in a traditional prayer learned in childhood and phrased in words not understood, or, it may be, in a mere attitude or posture or motion of the body. The bodily postures of prayer, often so strange to the onlooker, are to be explained in part as natural instinctive expressions of submission and appeal, in part as habitual responses associated 22 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY since the plastic days of childhood with the mental attitudes of reverence and supplication. Their reten tion through the ages is not due exclusively nor chiefly to superstitious conservatism, but principally to the religious utility which they serve in aiding to bring about the prayerful state of mind. In like manner the formal prayers of nine-tenths of the world, which cause so much disturbance to the self-satisfied Protestant, have their very real religious utility. The articulation of a definite form of religious words, sanctified through tradition, has the same kind of psychological effect as traditional bodily posture; in fact it is usually of even greater importance. Only for the mystically minded is wordless prayer possible; and many a man finds in the verbal forms of tradition a better means of focusing his religious attention than in any poor words of his own extemporaneous invention. This is true, strange as it may at first seem, even of prayers the words of which are entirely unintelligible to the worshiper. For words are often yes, often even in our best and most religious moments but the semimaterial forms in which we clothe the spirit of our prayer, a spirit of longing and of aspiration which is itself ineffable. It is a mistake to suppose that our minds regularly follow the words of our prayers, or that we fail to pray unless they are thus nailed down to verbal meanings. And it is quite possible, and it is frequently actual that the most sacred associations of life begun in infancy and carried on to the end may so weave themselves about THE HISTORY OF RELIGIONS 23 even meaningless syllables that these may come to be the embodiment of reverence, confession, petition, longing, aspiration. I spoke of them as "meaningless syllables"; they are not that. They may be taken from a foreign and unknown language and hence may not convey to the worshiper the same meaning that they did to the original author of them centuries ago; but they may be brimful of meaning none the less a meaning, it may be, too vague, too emotional, to be put into words; but for all that none the less adapted for the bearing of that religious emotion which fills the heart. I remember hearing the voice of a Burmese woman in a Buddhist shrine in Man- dalay, shrill and clear and impassioned, with the heart s longing in every syllable, appealing to the Lord Buddha and to the dark Determiner of Destiny, repeating her prayer over and over, intensely, wildly, rilling all the courtyard of the deserted vihara. The prayer was in Pali, and I presume she understood not a word of what she said. Not a word, perhaps; but she understood the prayer. The seemingly meaningless words sacred to her from childhood s experiences she took and filled with a meaning of her own. That meaning perhaps, like the meaning of music, could not have been put into words. But the prayer had a very real meaning for her; it had a meaning even for me; and I am sure if the Lord Buddha was for a moment roused by it out of the supreme bliss of Nirvana as well he might have been that he too heard and understood that woman s prayer. 24 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY If time permitted it might be of interest to continue the application of the psychological point of view to various other phenomena studied by the history of religion, to such things, for example, as the belief in God and the various forms of God, the belief in immortality, the social religious upheavals common to all religions, which in Protestantism we call revi vals, to the conversion experience also common to the religions of all races to asceticism, to mysticism, and to the great values of religion in its bearing upon truth, upon happiness, and upon the moral life. These applications, however, I must leave each of you to make out for himself. But the considerations to which I have called your attention have, I trust, been sufficient to indicate the importance of applying to the study of the history of religions whatever of psychological insight we can summon if we are to make the objects of our study really comprehensible. To put the whole matter in a sentence, the history of religions ought to be plausible; plausibility is as desirable for a book in this field as it is for a novel. And without some imaginative insight based upon a sound psychology, the religions of the non- Christian world and a large part of the religions of the Chris tian world will remain on their inner side almost as unintelligible to us as they were to the Deists. JAMES BISSETT PRATT THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION PHILOSOPHIC CONCEPTIONS ON WHICH FURTHER RELIGIOUS PROGRESS DEPENDS When, in the ongoing of that irreversible process we call life, we reach the reflective stage, the products of reflection become factors of fundamental impor tance in further development. Instinct, the nai ve views of childhood, and the fool-killer have by this time done for us nearly all that they can do. And of these three the last is not the most insignificant, for nature and society are constantly eliminating those who hold unworkable theories of life. This is to say that eventually, in the course of his development, man becomes a creature in whom ideas, ideals, and. philosophy count. He continues to be driven by impulse and appetite, but he is no longer solely driven. He is moved by attraction, lured upward and onward by visions of the better, by a homesickness for the perfect. The fiend that man harries Is love of the best. As the world grows older, man is ever discovering new values, while at the same time he is learning more about his place in the universe. He seeks to co-ordinate and systematize these values so that they may be realized together to the maximum extent 25 26 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY in the individual and social life. As he becomes aware of his place in the infinities, and has some glimpse of the great frame in which his life is set, the question inevitably arises as to the cosmic fate of these values. Are they revelations of the nature of reality or are they merely epiphenomenal, evanes cent by-products of that which is physically real? Is the universe congenial to our ideals, or is it hostile or indifferent? What is the relation of the highest values to the mechanism of the world? What is reality ? Is it what physics studies or are Platonism and Christianity substantially right ? These questions cannot be escaped except by the immature, and they must be answered correctly if human life is to keep in its upward and onward way. It has been truly said that philosophy is the unseen framework of all that we think or do. General ideas as to what is possible or practicable are powerful stimulants or depressors. They act as tonics or deterrents according as they legitimate or negate our deepest longings and ideal strivings. Of the many needs of our time, none perhaps is deeper than that which can be met only by a philoso phy of religion. By this term I mean a comprehen sive, synthetic, synoptic view which includes what science has discovered about the universe and which also finds a place for religion. The average thought ful man has reached some conclusions as to the relation of physics to ethics, of the practically possible to ideal aims, conclusions which influence him more THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 27 than he knows. He may not realize that he has philosophized and he may even defame philosophy. Nevertheless he always has an idea-system which in some degree stimulates or paralyzes the higher energies of his life. And the more unconscious his philosophy is the poorer it is. For we either con sciously and after some critical examination accept a world- view, or we adopt it uncritically and become its victims. Some scheme for their thoughts all reflective men inevitably have. The only question is whether it shall be philosophically arrived at and continually revised in the direction of adequacy and truth, or unsuspectingly adopted and dogmatically held. Man s philosophy, his comprehensive view of things and values, is his only protection from one sided ideas of life. Alas for him when it is itself one-sided! Everyone who has conversed with others on great themes must have realized in their case at least, if not in his own, that a world-view affects the weight of evidence and so determines the receptivity of the mind in special ways. It is, for example, useless to tell some things to some people, for they simply have not any place to put these facts and truths. The very possibility of them is excluded from the classification their minds have made. A complete demonstration would simply dumbfound them. Their mental life will have to undergo a plowing by deep experiences before they can entertain the considerations which are now foreign to their ideas of reality and possibility. 28 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY A very large number of intelligent, serious, and sincere minds are suffering from a crude and narrow naturalism, according to which the reality of the universe is matter in motion, the ultimate truth of which is physics and mechanics. Many of these men and women are of deeply religious nature, but all that they care most for, the intellectual, aesthetic, moral, and religious values, seem to them but frail and inexplicable phenomena, soon to be lost in the nothingness of the past. Some of them have become imprisoned in this view before they were aware of what was taking place. Not having been forewarned, and without the protection which philosophic studies can give, this depressing conviction that all is mechanism and that religion deals with beautiful and comfortable illusions steals over them while engaged in physical researches. They form a conception of nature from a consideration solely of her physical aspects and then seek to make it include those values, those realities that men live and die for, and that ought to have influenced the conception of what nature really is. The result is inevitable. If in framing our con ception of nature we leave out certain realities, there will not be and cannot be any place for these realities in the conception so framed. What was ignored will remain outside our philosophy and be henceforth simply inexplicable. Now all ignored interests avenge themselves. The values of life are of one family. They belong together. THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 29 To omit anyone is to detract from the rest. How completely a naturalism of this kind negates what is most precious to us is seen with perfect clearness in the statement by Bertrand Russell in his beautiful essay entitled A Free Man s Worship. The world which science presents for our belief, is, he says, a world void of meaning. Amid such a world, if anywhere, our ideals henceforward must find a home. That man is the product of causes which had no prevision of the end they were achieving; that his origin, his growth, his hopes and fears, his loves and his beliefs, are but the outcome of accidental collocations of atoms; that no fire, no heroism, no intensity of thought and feeling, can preserve the individual life beyond the grave; that all the labors of the ages, all the devotion, all the inspiration, all the noonday brightness of human genius, are destined to extinction in the vast death of the solar system, and that the whole temple of man s achievement must inevitably be buried in the debris of a universe in ruins all these things, if not quite beyond dispute, are yet so nearly certain, that no philosophy which rejects them can hope to stand,. Only within the scaffolding of these truths, only on the firm foundation of unyielding despair, can the soul s habitation be safely built. .... The life of man is a long march through the night, surrounded by invisible foes, tortured by weariness and pain, towards a goal that few can hope to reach, and where none may tarry long. One by one, as they march, our comrades vanish from our sight, seized by the silent orders of omnipotent death. Very brief is the time in which we can help them, in which their happiness or misery is decided Brief and powerless is man s life; on htm and all his race the slow, sure doom falls pitiless and dark. Blind to good and evil, reckless of destruction, omnipotent matter rolls on its relentless way; for man, condemned to-day to lose his dearest, to-morrow 30 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY himself to pass through the gate of darkness, it remains to cherish, ere yet the blow falls, the lofty thoughts that ennoble his little day: disdaining the coward terrors of the slave of Fate, to worship at the shrine that his own hands have built: undismayed by the empire of chance, to preserve a mind free from the wanton tyranny that rules his outward life; proudly defiant of the irresistible forces that tolerate, for a moment, his knowledge and his condemnation, to sustain alone, a weary but unyielding Atlas, the world that his own ideals have fashioned, despite the trampling march of unconscious power. Those who have lightly accepted the current naturalism but are hiding from themselves its ultimate consequences would do well to ponder these words, for, granting the writer s premises, the conclusion he so vividly states inevitably follows and must some time be faced. Within the scaffolding of these thoughts the despairing, reality-defying attitude he advocates is the only possible religion. A pathetic sympathy for our unhappy race is all that remains of love, while faith, hope, and joy, like the more transient miracles and prophecies of early Christianity, must now cease. Paul was mistaken, for they are not to abide, but after surviving for a score of centuries science is making them impossible attitudes, so that they, too, are to be done away. Thought along this line has evidently reached an impasse. If there is no way of escape, it is obvious that among educated men religion must soon be numbered among the things that were. There is a way out of the difficulty and we begin to walk in it the moment we ask the question which Professor THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 31 Russell does not raise Whence this superiority of man to the world which he condemns and defies? Is he a native or an emigrant from some other universe into this? It is very curious that a mind of this order is content to accept an absolute break between man s ideals and his world. But surely it is necessary to remember that the human race and its ideals are an outcome of the world-process and have their foundations in the depths of reality. It is no longer possible to regard the world as separate and out of organic relation with the conscious lives in which it culminates. If we forget it, the result is tragedy. For a con viction that we are strangers in an indifferent or hostile world that is far stronger than we, is what we inevitably come to if, in forming our conception of reality, we neglect all but its physical aspects and then seek to find in nature so conceived a place for the highest values. If this imperfect conception were the truth, Professor Russell s heroic attitude in facing the tragedy of human existence would be ideal. But it is not the truth. There is no such nature. A purely physical nature is an abstraction. Empiri cally we know nothing of it and theoretically it has no justification. The only nature that we know is the na ture that has produced man, human civilization, the love and beauty, the worship, prayers, and ideal strivings of the ages. Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle in Athens and Christ in Galilee and Jerusalem were just as truly parts of nature as are rocks and trees, protoplasm, 32 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY nebulae, atoms, and ions or electric energy. In deed, they were more truly representative than things inorganic or than lowly forms of life. They were the outcome of perhaps eighty millions of years of evolution since life appeared on the planet, and the fundamental rational principle of interpretation, when dealing with matters of this kind, is that a process is more truly judged by its outcome than by its beginnings. This was stated by Aristotle in the famous words: "For what each thing is when fully developed, we call its nature, whether we are speaking of a man, a horse, or a family." (olov yap effTi rrjs yeveaeais TeKeadeiarjs, ravr^v 0a/-tej> TTJV elvat, e/cdorou, tiffirep avdpuirov, iWou, ol/das Politics i. 2. 8.) That is, we now think of the world in terms of process and we know that "no process can be truly described unless it is viewed in its complete ness, " in the light of its final or latest result. We cannot, of course, speak of the creation as complete, but its highest product in our part of the universe is human personality and human society. All tended to mankind And, mankind produced, all has its end thus far: But in completed man begins anew A tendency to God. So Browning s Paracelsus, and laborious philoso phy supports his swift and sure intuition. The logic of this view is absolutely inescapable. It is not merely permissible: it is imperative. He who ignores or fails to use it leaves the highway of human THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 33 thought. Before its positive significance was per ceived many minds shrank from the doctrine of the continuity of life from its lowest beginnings to the highest personalities, for it seemed to degrade life by assimilating it to the non-living and to reduce man to a part of nature conceived of as physical and subhuman. Only later was it realized that in this case, as in all others, the truth is good news, and that, since nature includes humanity, our "thought of nature must be made rich enough to make room for spiritual purposes. " It is rational, then, to conclude that " human values constitute a part of the real ends of the uni verse. " The power behind evolution is a power that has produced the beautiful, the true, the good. Our ideals are not aliens in the universe, but "genuine realities organic to the whole of Being." What the doctrine of evolution, of the kinship of all life, and of the unity of man with nature has done has been to transform the conception of nature. It is seen to be not lifeless and foreign to our nature, but the matrix of our highest life. It seems alien only when we contemplate its physical aspects and ignore or forget its values. We may still be appalled at the extent of the universe in space and time and momen tarily terrified at the conception that our universe of stars strewn along the milky way may, from a suffi cient distance, appear as a nebula, that it may in fact be but one of the many thousands of nebulae which have been discovered. We may be dizzy and 34 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY frightened at these celestial magnitudes and sidereal ages, but only so long as we forget that the reality which is so overwhelming in its physical aspects has also produced our values, that out of it have come millions of noble men and women with a passion for the perfect and a longing for the conservation of the best. It is simple fact to say that a lily flower on its stalk in June is not more truly a part of the plant than the finest men and women, including Jesus, are organic parts of nature. And since Aristotle was right in declaring that processes must be estimated by their outcome, we are bound to see in humanity at its highest a revelation of the nature of nature, and in lives like that of Christ a revelation of the nature of human nature. In other words, thought justifies what religion believes, namely, that reality is akin to what we reverence and love. The humanly best becomes the key to the cosmos, and the religious view of the universe is true. The ideal has a natural basis, and the natural is capable of an ideal development. In the life that for Christendom has become the symbol of the divine we see the heart of the world laid bare, "the place where love breaks through. 7 He is not the Great Exception, but the Great Example, the supreme revelation thus far of the nature of that nature out of which we all have come. Christianity and Platonism are essentially right: at the heart of reality is the Good, and we ourselves are real in proportion as we are partakers of that divine reality THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 35 which the religious nature feels to be behind phe nomena and to which it knows, that it is akin. If this is a just statement, it is clear that the unity and spiritual outcome of the world-process is a con ception on which further religious life and progress depend. It is true that in the past the temples grew as grows the grass, and that the religious thoughts and feelings of men came in the same way, but that cannot be any more. For, at a certain point this spontaneous development is arrested, namely, at the time when reflection begins. Religion has to make terms with other interests in life. A problem arises when religion is threatened, when, for instance, there seems to be no place for it in the scientific view of the universe. If men are henceforth to be at once rational and sincere and religious, it is obvious that they must attain to a world-view in which religion has its place. In other words, for reflective men religion inevitably comes to depend upon a phi losophy of religion. Besides those who are depressed and hindered in their aspiring life by that halfway mode of thought which we have called naturalism, there are many others who live the religious life but support and justify it by a dualistic philosophy which is constantly being undermined and which is daily becoming more untenable. They protect this philosophy from criti cism as well as they can, for they suspect its inade quacy, and they cling to it tenaciously, since they have no other support for a precious faith. 36 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY According to this dualistic view, now obsolescent, nature was out of harmony with God and the natural was the antithesis of the divine. The realm of God was the supernatural. He was not in the order of nature but in exceptional, extraordinary, and miracu lous occurrences. Nor was nature regarded as a coher ent whole. As Sir Henry Jones concisely expresses it: The physical sciences worked apart, their provinces did not intersect. Physical life stood, apparently, unrelated to its material substrate: it was taken as a clear addition to it. Within the domain of the physical life itself there were fixed species, each of them describable by itself: the problem of their connection was not raised. Man as a rational and respon sible being stood aloof from all an exception and addendum to the natural scheme. Even his own nature was riven in two: his body was merely the tenement of his soul. On all sides there were interstices, and rifts, and opportunities for miraculous interventions which came. For, beyond the natural wo;rld and around it, ready to flow in upon it at any moment, there was another. It was the object of faith rather than knowledge, of spiritual rather than natural vision : it was dogmatically asserted on the one side and meekly accepted on the other. God dwelt in that remote region of moveless mystery, in sovereign majesty inscrutable: "He made darkness his secret place: his pavilion round about were dark waters and thick clouds of the skies." But of intrinsic or rational continuity between that world and this, there was none; and experience here gave little clue to experience there: for was not experience in this world merely natural, and spiritual experience assumed to be a mystery ? x Clearly, it is most unfortunate that the religious values, faith, hope, love, joy, the fruits of the Spirit 1 Idealism as a Practical Creed, p. 236. THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 37 of which the apostle Paul was constantly speaking, should be associated with such a view of the world as this a view which the progress of thought has doomed to extinction. For these interstices through which God s revelation of himself were believed to come are disappearing, and it is easy to understand what the situation will be when the remaining lacunae have been rilled, the last gap closed. Indeed, we are not far from this now. For, as the philosopher just quoted says: Belief in the unity of the natural universe, including man, is now practically universal in civilized communities. There are neither interstices nor rifts; there are no causes without natural consequences, and no effects without natural and necessary antecedents no mere accidents anywhere. The whole scheme is compact and man is a part of it. His psychical nature is inextricably intertwined with his bodily frame; he is not spirit plus soul plus body; but spirit, soul, and body interfused; a sensuous-rational being, continuous with the world in which he lives. All being is of one tissue. It is obviously useless for religious men who know that the values they strive to promote are indis pensable to civilization to minimize these facts or to avert the necessary conclusion. What is needed is a new interpretation. And this the philosophy of religion is prepared to give. In these apparently abstruse matters the average man has a great stake. On the issue depends his view of life s nature and meaning and possibilities, and the ultimate result will be faith, courage, and hope, or black despair. 38 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY For By uniting nature to man, man to man, and all with God, Idealism has involved all that exists, or that man can conceive, in one doubtful destiny. There is no picking of footsteps any more, nor wary walking amidst the distinctions of artificial schemes: the whole web has been torn. There is no salvation now by partial issues; the question of the rectitude and sanity of the whole order of reality has been raided, and there remain but two alternatives hope which cannot despair, or despair which cannot hope. 1 In this situation it is clear that no help is to be looked for from compromises or hybrid schemes or repairs to the old dualism. Hope lies in the frank acceptance of the unity of the universe for which science stands and the spiritual outcome of the world-process which is the legitimate and necessary interpretation of the facts and experience of human life. When we fully realize that "God always acts through nature, and that nature at its highest and best is always the manifestation of God s character as he reveals himself to us, that the Divine Spirit is at work in the world in ways that are natural to the world and to men," we have an interpretation of nature, human life, and religion that is more beautiful and significant than the dualism we are forced to surrender, and that has besides the great advantage of being true and concordant with the ideas that rule the modern age. Since God is in the order and not in the exceptions, the distinction between sacred and secular is abolished. All history becomes sacred and humanity a divine 1 Idealism as a Practical Creed, p. 247. THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 39 incarnation. Man becomes divine in proportion as he becomes a partaker of the true, the beautiful, and the good. His religious experience is as natural, from the point of view of science, as is his physical life. It is as natural to be good in the higher stages of development as it is to be animal and savage in the lower. Man comes to himself as he grows. History is the revelation of his nature, of the divine nature that expresses itself in him. In the light of this conception we must revise our idea of the Spirit. It is not "an occasional afflatus," but the immanent, ever present God in action, the "very warp and woof of the web" of man s intellectual, moral, social, aesthetic, and religious life. Beside the naturalism and the dualism of which we have been speaking, there are other views and theories of life, both scientific and philosophic, which are unfavorable to religion. Some of them threaten its continued existence. It will be instructive to consider briefly how religious values are affected by certain current tendencies in psychology, the psy chology of religion, theology, and the philosophy implicit in the democratic aspirations of our time. Take the case of psychology first. Those who are engaged in research in this field are not inspired by antipathy toward religion. They are seeking truth, yet if we forget, as too many do forget, that the behaviorists are studying only one aspect of human life by certain methods appropriate to that study, and if we assume that what they ignore does not 40 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY exist or has no significance, it is obvious that religion will appear to be concerned with what is unreal. It is not merely that in these studies of the responses made by the human body to its surroundings there is no question of a soul. Consciousness itself has become irrelevant. Thus in his recent volume, Psychology from the Standpoint of the Behaviorist, Professor John B. Watson, of Johns Hopkins Uni versity, explicitly says: The reader will find no discussion of consciousness and no reference to such terms as sensation, perception, attention, will, image, and the like. These ter,ms are in good repute, but I find I can get along without them, both in carrying out my investigation and in presenting psychology as a system to my students. I frankly do not know what they mean nor do I believe that anyone else can use them consistently. In other words, for psychology so understood, consciousness can be ignored as having no significance. Human ideas and ideals, loves, hopes, philosophy, and the passion for perfection are ignored. The values that men struggle for and for which they gladly give up their lives are as if they were not in this study of the physical mechanism, its tendencies, and its responses. Now no one doubts that such a study may throw light on human life, and everyone wishes to see it developed to the utmost. The serious mistake to which we are liable is the very natural one of regarding as unreal what we are not at present concerned with and so of drawing unwar ranted negative conclusions. Because values and that in man which appreciates values cannot be THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 41 successfully studied by the methods of physical science it does not follow that they are not real and supremely important. To be scientific is not the only way to be intelligent. To claim that behaviorism is the whole of psychology and that consciousness may be excluded from its investigations is to make a philosophy, a world- view, of a severely limited con ception of life. A colleague of Professor Watson, Professor Arthur 0. Lovejoy, has seen with the clearness to be expected of a philosopher the real significance of this interesting movement. He says: Now behaviorism as a method of experimental inquiry in psychology has its place and finds practical justification in its results. But behaviorism as a metaphysics is simply natural ism gone mad. It conceives the whole process of consciousness in terms of physical stimulus and bodily response. It recog nizes in the experience of an individual no elements which are not, at least potentially, wholly open to the direct sensible observation of other individuals no elements, in other words, which are anything more than visible or tangible movements of the muscles or other parts of the animal mechanism. In all this it incidentally stultifies itself; for the behaviorist philosopher puts forward his doctrine as meaningful and true, and as reached through logical processes and yet truth and meaning can have no place among the strictly behavioristic categories, and the theory cannot recognize any such thing as the determination of the action of an animal (even though the animal be a philosopher) by logical reflection as such. If we apply the behaviorisms principles to himself, we must treat his arguments and conclusions merely as so much animal behavior, that is, as movements of the muscles of (e.g.) his throat or forearm and nothing more. 1 ^Harvard Theological Review, April 20, 1920, p. 193. 42 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY Life is behavior but it is not human life unless it is more. It consists in part of adjustments to the material universe, but the highest and best part of it is a striving for values. Now values are not physical things; they do not exist except for conscious beings. Indeed, they would not exist for purely cognitive beings devoid of emotional powers. They are per ceived only when they are felt. This is as true of religious values as of others, for all values are of one family. If behaviorism is more than a method, if it becomes a philosophy, a habit of mind, it is obviously unfavorable to that life of the spirit which we call religion, since this lies beyond the realm of which it takes account. Then, there is the psychology of religion which, like behaviorism, is making a contribution to our knowledge of human life. It studies the religious emotions, the instincts, the order of human develop ment, the evolution of man s sense of the divine and of his thoughts about God. In this way it renders an indispensable service. But occasionally the psy chologist assumes the role of a philosopher and falls into one of the pitfalls along the philosophic path. He somewhat uncritically adopts the mistaken view that consciousness knows only itself. The doctrine that we cannot get beyond experience he interprets as meaning that experience is only of itself, and that therefore we cannot know anything about God. If he continues, as he often does, to use the word God, he means nothing objective, but merely a feeling or concept. THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 43 But this is merely a relapse- into that seductive but false theory of knowledge which has troubled European thought for so long. Now to be a victim of this illusion is no longer excusable. It is to live as if clear-sighted men such as Santayana had not written a page. After the whole matter has been cleared up, it is pathetic to see men holding that " theory of knowledge which proclaims that knowledge is impossible. You know only your so-called knowl edge, which itself knows nothing The mind knows only the ideas it creates. " This " subjectivity of thought, this philosophy which deliberately limits itself to the articulation of self-consciousness, and considers the embroideries it makes upon a dark experience, and for which the self is shut up in a closed circle of experience, admitting of no relations with anything beyond," has played its unhappy part in the world long enough. The psychology of reli gion does not justify a man in taking a position such that "when he speaks of anything matter, God, himself he means not that thing but the idea of it." Professor Santayana, some of whose expressive phrases I am using, says: Evidently on this principle none of Leibniz s spirits could know any other, nor could any phase of the same spirit know any other phase. The unbridgeable chasm of want of experi ence would cut off knowledge from everything but its "con tent," the ideas it has of objects. Those fabled external objects would be brought back into my ideas, and identified with them ; my ideas in turn would be drawn in and identified 44 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY with the fact that I entertain them and this fact would condense into the more intimate and present fact that intensely, vaguely, deeply I feel that I am, or am tending to be, something or other. My Will, or Spirit, the rumble of my unconscious appetitions, thus absorbs my ideas, my ideas absorb their objects, and these objects absorb the world, past, present and future. Earth and heaven, God and my fellowmen are mere expressions of my Will, and if they were anything more, I could not now be alive to their presence. Life is short and the number of fresh hours when the mental sky is clear and the horizon wide, and when we are therefore competent in philosophy, is few, and we may naturally resent having to consume some of them in showing the untenability and the temporary character of theories which ignore con sciousness or assume that we are shut up in it, which deny the efficacy of ideas and ideals and explain away the knowledge of objective existence and the reality of Truth. But for the philosopher of religion, it is a part of the day s work. The theories in question are getting out among the people just about the time their inadequacy is being perceived among the thinkers, and the impression produced is unfavorable to the higher interests of our race. For religion, like education, does not promote itself. It is carried on and advanced by organized effort. And the difficulties we have been speaking of are part of what makes the work of the churches so hard. They are puzzling because they are so intangible and ill- understood. The present slow progress of the churches is not wholly their fault. Even if they had THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 45 fewer literal-minded men in the pulpit, if they modernized their creeds and were more active in social service, if they met all the just criticisms passed upon them, they would find the promotion of religious values in this age very difficult because of strong thought currents which run in the contrary direction. Of these counter currents the most important, perhaps, is that which we must now attempt to describe. The task is difficult because what is in question is a view of life which has never been clearly formulated or adequately expressed, but which is nevertheless a living conviction at the heart of the democratic movement of our time. It is implicit in the efforts that are being made toward social and political reconstruction, in "the latent assumptions which underlie men s judgments, beliefs and ideals. " In this complex of massive energies, of formative forces, lies what Professor George Plimpton Adams calls the "idea system" of our age. This writer s Idealism and the Modern Age is the most successful recent effort to state the problem and to show the tremendous stake the average man has in its correct solution. It is a definite contribution for which we should be grateful, but it is perhaps possible to outline the situation more concisely. Certainly he is right in the main point, that until modern times Western Europe has lived in the faith that there is an objective moral order in which it is man s supreme duty and privilege to find a place. For the ancient and even for the medieval world the accepted idea was that 46 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY man s essential vocation was contemplation, the knowledge of the truth, the beatific vision of beauty, goodness, the divine reality. He was to find out what is true and believe it, to discover beauty and rejoice in it, to know the right and do it. In Christian phrase, man s highest good was to have his "conversation in heaven," to "live as seeing the invisible, to take his place in the divine order by living in love and the spirit of Christ. For Platonism there was an objective truth, beauty, and goodness, which man imitates and in which he participates and into the likeness of which through adoring contem plation he is transformed. The new spirit is that which looks up at nothing, which worships nothing, but which aims at remaking the human world to the end that human desires may be more fully satisfied. It definitely announced and declared itself in "the French Revolution, the first mighty upheaval motived by the conscious con viction that the only social order fit for man is one which he himself has made and can control, and which he can also unmake if he so desires. This conviction is but democracy, come to a full con sciousness of its meaning and power." This aspira tion to revise and reconstruct our social institutions is one that we all share. We are in fact committed to democracy, but we are not committed to its present understanding of itself or to its denials. Granted that the social order must be remade, the ques tion arises as to the ideals that shall guide our THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 47 reforming activity and the values we are to incor porate. This question is crucial for the higher life of our race. For the answer which is given by many spokesmen for democracy, and by the instrumentalists and pragmatists, is that we have nothing to consider but the satisfaction of our desires. The problem of life, they say, is to take account of instinct and impulse, and through creative intelligence, to secure their maximum satisfaction. "The mind is the voice of the body s interests." It is in the same class with the bodily organs, and its sole business is to guide organic adjustments. It is useful to get us out of trouble. But it is not for love, worship, contemplation of truth and beauty, for the beatific vision. To understand it you must look backward at the interests it serves, not forward toward the goodness and beauty men believe in and for which they yearn. The question upon which so much depends is not whether this is a true account of the mind, for it is obviously in part true, but whether it is a complete account. If it is entirely adequate, if this is all there is to be said, then it is clear that Platonism and Christianity are wrong, for both have taught that man s mind enjoys the privilege of "participating in objective, significant structures"; that in its love of the true, the beautiful, and the good it really loves God; that the goal of our imperfect loves, is, as Plato taught, the vision and adoring contemplation 48 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY of the divine beauty; and that in all our good is "the Good, " which is our goal, so that in our striving for the particular excellences that attract us we are "like children chasing butterflies while still proceeding in the direction of home." Democracy is yet too young to have carefully examined the philosophy by which it lives and which, if uncorrected, will lead to disaster. This view of the mind, according to which life is response, adapta tion, behavior, and nothing more, concentrates its attention on the beginnings of life and ignores or denies the objective realities which are the concern of Platonism, the most vital philosophy in the world, and of Christianity, the religion of the peoples which have built civilization. It is truly said that prag matism is merely the denial of everything Platonic, and the assumption implicit in much of our democracy that there is nothing objective about ethical and religious values is merely the denial of Christianity. Rev. W. R. Inge is, therefore, entirely right in saying that "for us the whole heritage of the past is at stake together; we cannot preserve Platonism without Christianity, nor Christianity without Platon ism, nor civilization without both." For to this insurrectionary spirit which proposes to accept nothing and to make everything the question must be put, Do you think freedom is caprice and that emancipated modernity can do anything it likes or that the majority decrees? Is there nothing objective in the intellectual and moral THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 49 order? Did you make and can you change the relation of the diameter of a circle to its circumference ? And how about the multiplication table? Now what is true of these things is true of much else besides, not only in the realm of logical relations but in that of beauty and goodness, and this fact must sometime be discovered by democracy when it has put down all its opponents and set about the work of construction. Until it realizes this truth it is like the crew of a ship at sea which has dismissed its officers and assumes that it can safely sail in any direction so long as all agree or the majority directs. The fact is that the most democratic people will destroy itself as certainly as any other if it considers only how it may satisfy its desires and fails to perceive its ideal goal. There is one thoroughfare of life, and when we leave it we are about as free as a locomotive is when it leaves the rails and starts off across country. The effect of this insurgent spirit on theology must be noted in passing. We hear much of democracy in theology. In the words of one able man, " God-head is the infinite society of souls. " Men of this temper will no longer sing Sir Robert Grant s magnificent hymn : Oh, worship the King, all-glorious above! Oh, gratefully sing his power and his love! Our Shield and Defender, the Ancient of Days, Pavilioned in splendor, and girded with praise. Frail children of dust, and feeble as frail, In thee do we trust, nor find thee to fail; Thy mercies how tender, how firm to the end, Our Maker, Defender, Redeemer, and Friend! 50 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY It is to be recognized that this is not mere wilful- ness, for there is another influence acting upon men that affects them in much the same way. The doctrine of the immanence of God has made a deep impression upon the modern age, but in accepting it many have drawn the unwarranted conclusion that they must give up faith in transcendence. It has been realized that a transcendent deity whose relation to the universe and man is purely external cannot longer be believed in. It has yet to be brought home to our consciousness that a purely immanental view leaves us without a God whom we can worship, since it equates God and nature and lands us in an unmoral pantheism. It is a corollary of the doctrine of evolution that nature is lower than man, less personal, less God than we, and that her processes are no model for our imitation. It is not the function of the philosopher of religion to solve all theological problems, but he may properly point out that in accepting the doctrine of the divine immanence it was not necessary to give up that of transcendence, and that both are necessary to the life of religion. For it is as vain to try to worship a subhuman urge, a God who gropes and struggles and whose purposes, if he has any, are less clear than our own, as it is to glorify a mere concept and enjoy it forever. He surely has failed to read aright the Christian gospel, the philosophy of Greece, and his own heart, who does not understand that our Father is the Perfect and that we live and advance by his worship and THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 51 that we can never really reverence anything else. God is truly in nature and in man, but he is also the perfect truth, beauty, and goodness that is above our world, and by his lure draws the aspiring human race up and on. Although this truth is uncongenial to those who do not like to hear of anything above them, a moral order to which they must conform, a truth which they do not make but must simply accept, or an ideal which it is life to worship, to it men will eventually return. The present apparent indifference to the values represented by Platonism and Christianity, values which have given human life whatever it has of nobility and beauty, is due to a passing mood of a vigorously growing but still immature democracy which has not yet examined and criticized the implicit philosophy by which it lives, and in part also to the mistaken impression that science involves the view that there is no reality except matter in motion. This mood and this partial view may be expected to pass with clearer and more sequent thinking. We shall regain our sense of proportion and understand that the significance of facts is not less real than the facts themselves, however " brute" and material the facts may be. As the meaning of a book is surely as important and real as the paper and printing, so the moral ends of life, its values and ideals, are not to be set down as mere epiphenomena in comparison with its physiology. There will always be men who mistake the surface movements of thought for its 52 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY deeper current, and there will be specialists whose legitimate business is to investigate one aspect of reality at a time. But for the lives that count, for the men and women who do the work of the world, who maintain its homes and its institutions, facts will continue to be symbols and their value will be estimated by their meaning. Aspiration is the promise and potency of all progress, and aspiration perishes when it ceases to have a sense of the reality of that to which it aspires. And when it ceases to be, humanity will be dead, for "we live by the passionate attempt to return to our perfection, by the radical need of losing ourselves again in God." GEORGE ROWLAND DODSON THE OLD TESTAMENT OLD TESTAMENT STUDY TODAY In surveying the field of theological study we come now to that part which deals with the Old Testament. The formulation of the subject implies that here as elsewhere the present is different from the former status of the study, in other words that theological science is progressive. It is in regard to the Old Testament, however, that this assumption of progress has been most energetically opposed. Here if anywhere it has been felt that what was good enough for the fathers ought to satisfy the sons. The book with which we deal has been the object of serious and intensive study for two thousand years. Jewish Rabbis made it their life-work to understand and expound it; the Fathers of the church searched it for light and knowledge; Schoolmen and reformers found in it the source of their doctrine. It seems an arrogant assumption to say that the results of all this study are not sufficient for men of our time, and that they must be subjected to fresh examination. Yet this, as I have said, is the implication of our topic, an implication which will be clear to anyone who has followed the course of theological discussion during recent years. Here as elsewhere it is true that science is not static but dynamic. S3 54 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY This antithesis of static and dynamic seems now to be in many minds. The Great War brought home to us the fact that we are living in a world of change, and that many institutions which we had looked upon as fixed and stable are subject to the great law of flux and flow. In some minds the result has been to produce a certain impatience with anything which claims to have permanence. To contrast a static church with a dynamic world, for example, is to condemn the church. How much of truth there may be in such a verdict lies outside the limits of our present inquiry. But we may carry the antithesis over into our present domain, and suspect that some are ready to assert that a static Bible cannot be the subject of a dynamic, that is to say a progressive, science. Hence they would remand the Bible or at least the older half of it to the scrap-heap, and turn to something of more modern interest. On one hand, then, we have the conservative, insisting that not only the Bible itself, but our view of it (the view formulated in the past), must be accepted; on the other hand we have the radical who will have nothing to do with anything so old. Let us mediate between the two by affirming that a science may be pro gressive although it deals with facts which are fixed and unchangeable. In truth all the historical scien ces are in this class, whether they deal with the world of nature or the world of man. Pardon me if I illustrate by examples which are perfectly familiar. THE OLD TESTAMENT 55 The fossils to which the paleontologist devotes his life are static, if anything deserves the name. For untold millenniums they have been what they now are. They bear witness indeed to changes which took place in the past these bones were once alive and attest the fact. But as an object of study they are fixed and unchangeable. Yet the science which deals with them is changing from generation to generation and reveals to us things of which our fathers did not dream. It is the same with our study of human history. The documents on which we base our inductions come from the distant past, and it is beyond our power to change them. To tamper with them is indeed to violate the scientific conscience. But the history that deals with them is re-written by each new generation of inquirers. And in spite of the eagerness of our younger scholars to deal with live issues and to let the dead past bury its dead, one thing stands out pretty clearly: that historical study was never more alive than it is today. To a great extent the intellectual effort of our time is devoted to the study of origins. It is not without reason that the most influential book of the nineteenth century bears the name The Origin of Species. Progress consists not in ignoring the past but in the more intensive study of it, leading to a better appre hension of the path along which humanity has moved in reaching the state in which we now find it. These general remarks will be seen to bear directly upon our subject when I say that the best adjective 56 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY to describe the Old Testament study of our time is just the adjective historical. To put it succinctly, let us say our study is historical rather than dogmatic. The time is not very remote when the chief interest of those who studied the Bible was, strictly speaking, dogmatic. Samuel Hopkins, the well-known leader of New England thought something over a century ago, began his series of published sermons with this statement: "The Bible contains a system of con sistent important doctrines which are so connected and implied in each other that one cannot be so well understood if detached from all the rest. " This sentence might stand as the motto of almost all the works devoted to biblical science throughout the Christian centuries down to the present time. It implies of course that the duty of all right-thinking men is to ascertain and accept the philosophy, that is, the system of important doctrines, revealed in the sacred book. Down almost to our own time this was the accepted view. Men came to the Bible, perhaps not with the only purpose, but at least with the main purpose, of discovering the philosophy divinely revealed therein. Here in this book they expected to discover all that they needed to know about the nature of God, the nature of man, the method of the divine government of the world, and the law which the divine Ruler has promulgated for the conduct of his creatures. To put it somewhat crudely, the Bible was regarded as a collection of prooftexts for the teacher of dogmatic theology. It did not seem to THE OLD TESTAMENT 57 shake men s confidence in this method of treatment when the result was found to be that each theologian found his own system confirmed by the sacred book, in other words that each one brought his system with him, and sought to discover his leading ideas in the text he was studying. This fact could not altogether escape observation, however, and it was a Swiss theologian of the eighteenth century who uttered the well-known epigram : Hie liber est in quo sua quaerit dogmata quisque Invenit et pariter dogmata quisque sua. In the majority of theological schools of this country the necessity of a purely historical study of the Old Testament is now so fully recognized that it is difficult for us to realize how comparatively modern this method is. Oral tradition ascribes to Lyman Beecher this remark, addressed to his class in theology: So long as men came to the Bible to find support for their own doctrines it was impossible to get right views of what the Bible really means. It was only when the Germans began to investigate the book as they would investigate Homer, not caring what doctrine it contains, that we began to get light on its meaning. This declaration indicates the dawn of more correct views concerning biblical study, and it must have been made about the time of the founding of the Meadville Theological School. At any rate, the change from the dogmatic to the historical treatment of the Bible (so far as this country is concerned) has taken place during the life of this institution. It was in 58 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY the year 1843 that Theodore Parker published a translation of De Wette s Introduction to the Old Testament, almost the first, if not quite the first, book to call the attention of American scholars to the critical problems presented by the Hebrew Scriptures. The book to be sure made little impres sion at the time, and almost a quarter of a century passed before theological professors and students had their attention again called forcibly to critical ques tions. But at least a beginning was made as early as the date I have named, and when the first inertia was overcome progress was rapid, until now we may say that the historical method is fairly established. Going now a little more into detail and attempting to define what we mean by historical study we note that history begins with criticism. To say that historical research is critical rather than traditional is but a commonplace. But it needs to be said nevertheless, for reluctance to apply critical methods to a sacred book is openly expressed or secretly felt by many to whom the Bible is a treasured possession and just because it is a treasured possession. The misapprehension of what criticism is may be attrib uted in part to the currency of the phrase " Higher Criticism," which as it happens was first used of modern biblical study. This phrase seemed to assert some sort of superiority on the part of those who used it, as though they arrogated the right to sit in judgment on the authors of the Hebrew books. The simple fact is that criticism is only the careful THE OLD TESTAMENT 59 examination of the facts on which any science is built up. Reflecting on the progress of the natural sciences we see that astronomy, for example, has no new phenomena at its disposition the heavenly bodies are just what they always have been, certainly what they have been ever since man came upon the earth. The progress of astronomy has been due to the more careful examination of the phenomena. In like manner the fossils of the geologist are, as we have already noticed, the same that they have been for ages. If we no longer adduce them as evidence of the Noachian deluge it is because we have examined them more carefully. This careful examination of the facts when carried over into the domain of archaeology and history is criticism. Ancient docu ments must submit to it as well as ancient remains of organic life. Let us frankly admit that in a certain sense criticism is apt to be destructive. In the case just supposed our modern science has destroyed the argument for the universality of the deluge, so far as that argument was drawn from certain fossil remains. This is what we mean when we say that our study is critical rather than traditional. About an ancient document, especially one that has been the object of affectionate interest, there gathers a body of supple mentary matter which seems to possess authenticity because of its connection with the original nucleus to which it has attached itself. The incurable curiosity of men concerning their own past leads 60 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY them to supply gaps in their information by products of their own imagination. Thus the early history of Rome became an interesting story by the inter mingling of fact and fancy, and the task of the historian who took himself seriously was to separate the two elements and indicate the true nature of each. The result was to a certain extent negative, and the sentimental reader might be inclined to sigh over the loss of romance in the narrative. Something of the same effect is produced by the application of histor ical methods to the Scriptures. These Scriptures have been the object of devoted study for two thousand years. It was to be expected in the nature of the case that a tradition should attach itself to them. Especially when they were used for edification and furnished texts for sacred oratory, the endeavor was made to fill out the silences of the narrative by use of the imagination. The preacher who stimulates the zeal of his hearers by holding up the example of Moses may not be content with the simple Scripture statement that the Hebrew boy was adopted by the princess who found him among the bulrushes; he may describe at length the luxurious surroundings into which the boy was introduced in the royal palace, and even intimate that the Pharaoh became so fond of him that he destined him to be his heir and suc cessor. Undoubtedly the self-sacrifice of the man who chose to suffer affliction with the people of God rather than to enjoy the pleasure of sin for a season is brought into a stronger light by this embellishment, THE OLD TESTAMENT 61 but a sober criticism will compel the hearer to dis tinguish between the material of the original nar rative, and that which the orator has added from his own imagination. The history of Old Testament interpretation shows that this sort of imaginative exegesis has gone on in each succeeding age. Each age has had its own method of study, and a certain amount of accretion has been handed on from one age to another. All this material has its value, of course, and has its place in the history of human thought. But the historian must discover its true nature and not confound it with the text on which it is based. To do this he uses the critical method, and while I have allowed that the result is in a certain sense destructive, it is nevertheless true that the critic does not actually destroy anything. Text and tradition are all there; all that the critical method does is to bring the different elements into their proper relations of space and time. In a truly historical treatment of an ancient text criticism is the first requisite. In the second place let us notice that this method is comparative instead of segregative. You do not need to be told that in the view of earlier scholars, and even of many at the present day, a sharp line of demarcation must be drawn between the Bible and all other books. This book received the name Holy or Sacred, and all that was connected with it was described in the same way. Thus we had a sacred history, a sacred archaeology, a sacred geography. The land of Israel became the 62 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY Holy Land. The implication was that while Israel, its literature, its land, and its institutions were made the object of a special divine activity, all the rest of mankind was left without guidance, to struggle on by the meager light of nature which, although suffi cient to insure the condemnation of those who neg lected it, could not lead men to any real virtue or true happiness. At the present day we cannot thus isolate Israel from all the rest of the world. In a sense the isolation has never been as complete as the adjectives I have quoted might suggest. It has always been known that the external history of Israel was connected with that of other nations so much is revealed by the Bible itself. In it we read of Egypt, Assyria, and Babylon, as well as of the smaller nations with which Israel came into immediate contact. To this extent the comparative study of the Old Testament is nothing new. Eusebius made a serious attempt to bring the history of Israel into connection with that of the other nations, and many later authors have treated the connection of sacred and profane history (as the phrase was). The advantage of our own age is that we have a greatly increased amount of material by which to judge the closeness of the connection. The decipherment of the Egyptian and Assyrian inscriptions has not only enriched our knowledge, but has compelled us to modify our view of the reliability of the Hebrew text. In the matter of chronology, for example, we are no longer able to make the Old Testament data THE OLD TESTAMENT 63 furnish the framework into which the chronology of the other ancient writers can be fitted. Conscien tious students of the Bible, while not yielding all the claims of the pan-Babylonians, must take cognizance of all the material now within our reach, and decide how far it compels a modification of Israel s external history. Even more serious than the reconstruction of the external history is the light thrown by these researches on the social evolution. It is now seen that those social institutions which the Hebrew writers themselves regarded as something established by direct divine command were in many cases the product of the same economic and political forces which were at work among the surrounding nations. The view of the Hebrew writers concerning the divine origin of their institutions, especially of their legislation, is now seen to have been the view of other ancient authorities. Moses claims that the Law comes to him from Israel s God; in like manner Hammurabi asserts that Anu and Bel called him to cause justice to prevail in the land, and to this end he promulgates the code which will accomplish the purpose of the gods. Nor is this the only way in which ancient literary methods are seen to be common to the Hebrews and other nations. The attribution of sacredness to a book is now known to be a frequent phenomenon in literary history. The sharp distinc tion between sacred and profane is fundamental to all religious thinking, from the most primitive to the most advanced. Not in Israel only do we find sacred 64 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY places, sacred rites, sacred persons, sacred implements, and sacred books. And in many cases the sacredness of Israel s rites originated outside of Israel. Circum cision is a rite found among many peoples, as in fact the biblical writers knew. The stone which Jacob set up as a House-of-God was one of many similar menhirs which are found all over the Eastern Con tinent. The sanctuary at Gilgal was doubtless marked off by a circle of stones belonging to the class of cromlechs, of which the most conspicuous example is known to us by the name of Stonehenge. The sacred dance about the altar, the hair-offering of the Nazirite, sacrificial worship all these we find elsewhere as well as in Israel. So with the literature. The story of the creation and of the deluge were borrowed from sources outside of Israel. The biblical writers, like Homer, took their material wherever they found what was suitable for their purpose, and did not find it less sacred because it came from a foreign source. Even the compilatory method by which many Old Testament books reached their present form, and which many readers are disposed to ridicule as the invention of the critics, is paralleled by what we find in other ancient literatures. The most serious modification of traditional ideas comes when we thus apply the comparative method to religious beliefs and custom. So far as the paral lels between Israelite and gentile rites were observed by earlier scholars, these scholars were able to entertain hypotheses which we find no longer tenable. They THE OLD TESTAMENT 65 were able to affirm either that the institutions of Israel were the originals, and those of other nations were borrowed; or else that the devil had been God s ape, imitating his ordinances in order to lead men astray. Later the theory was advanced that God made some concessions to the Israelites, allowing them to continue certain customs with which they had become familiar in Egypt, lest the prohibition of them should drive the people away from their own sanctuary. Modern biblical science finds itself unable to adopt either theory. It recognizes that the religious development of Israel followed the lines traced by other religions, and that the religious impulse which was the underlying motive in Israel is the same which we recognize in the history of other peoples. It is no longer possible, therefore, to make a sharp division between true and false religions, putting our own (with its preliminary stage in Judaism) in one class and all the rest in the other. We do not, however, confound all religions in one indistinguishable mass, as though they were of equal value. The complaint is sometimes heard that the comparative study of religion smothers our God in the cloud of incense offered to all the divinities of all the nations at once. There are degrees of value even in objects of the same class. He who investigates all religions need not be disloyal to his own, any more than he who writes the history of foreign countries needs to lay aside his affection for the land in which he was brought up. This is not 66 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY the place to enlarge upon this theme. All that we are now concerned to notice is that the biblical science of today, if it is to be a real science, must use the comparative method. From what has been said it will appear in the next place that modern biblical science must be evolu tionary rather than catastrophic. If anyone has a repugnance to the word evolutionary let him say developmental. What is important may be illus trated again by the science of geology. In the early stages of that science it was thought that each epoch of the earth s history was marked off by a convulsion of nature which wiped out the existing fauna and flora, and that the next period was ushered in by a new creation. Today, although the occurrence of earthquakes and tornadoes is not ignored, changes in the earth s surface and in its inhabitants are not supposed to have been wrought for the most part by these violent convulsions. Much more effective have been the less noticeable forces which are con stantly at work both in the inanimate and in the animate world. Biblical science has passed through similar phases. The older view, which indeed found support in the Bible itself, was that violent inter positions of divine power marked the different stages of Israel s history. The beginning was made by the act of creation, which was compressed into a single week of time. Then the world of man was left to its own devices until its condition demanded another signal display of divine power at the deluge. This THE OLD TESTAMENT 67 was followed by some centuries of what we should call natural development, terminating in a new act of God the call of Abraham to inaugurate a new dispensation. A third stage was marked by the even more startling episode at the Exodus, and by this a complete and perfect constitution was set before the people by divine fiat. From this time on there seemed to be no possibility except that the people should either be obedient to the divine statutes or recreant to their trust. In fact the biblical writers, or rather the latest editors of the history, believed that the course of events showed nothing like what we call progress; it was a succession of backslidings and revivals, culminating in the great disaster which put an end to the national existence. How incomprehensible this scheme is to men trained in modern methods of inquiry I need not point out. And on examining our documents we find abundant evidence that this emphasis of a few decisive inter ventions of Providence is only the theory of a few late writers, and that reading between the lines we can get a juster view. While there were certain great crises in the history, progress (for there was real progress) for the most part was due to the constant action of unobtrusive social forces the same that we discover in the advance of mankind elsewhere. Here also the rule was: First the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear. This does not mean that the development was without conflict. The developmental theory itself 68 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY assumes that progress is by struggle and the survival of the fittest. But the struggle was not the single dramatic campaign by which later writers liked to think that the land of Canaan was swept clear of the earlier inhabitants and given to Israel. Battles there were of course; once or twice the tribes gathered all their forces and inflicted a defeat on their enemies. But for the most part the conquest was by a com paratively peaceful penetration, extending over a long period of time. Politically this is of less importance to us than the interplay of social forces by which the religion of Israel reached its full development. The elaborate legislation of the Pentateuch, as we now see, was not revealed all at once, a complete code, ritual and moral, promulgated at the beginning of the nation s life. It was a growth, the result of a struggle between higher and lower conceptions in ethics and religion, a struggle carried on for a thousand years. And, as in other communities, the fact of struggle involved alternations of ebb and flow. Progress was not continuous nor was it in a straight line. Early ideas persisted even after higher ones seemed to have triumphed. At almost the latest period we learn of members of the community who engaged in the crude superstitions of their ancestors; who ate swine s flesh and had the broth of abominable things in their vessels, who lodged in the sepulchers and sat among graves, evidently devoted to the ani mistic and totemistic rites which characterize the re ligion of primitive society. THE OLD TESTAMENT 69 Our interest, I need hardly say, is in the distinct ness with which the religious struggle is set forth in the documents we study, and this struggle is revealed to us by our modern method. In the history of Israel as we now read it we see more clearly than anywhere else the process by which ethical mono theism triumphed over the lower forms of religion. And this history brings home to us the fact that spiritual leadership is necessary to any real advance in religion and morals. The heroes of Israel are not great captains with their swords and spears, though here as elsewhere the soldier who risked his life in defense of his home and clan received due recognition. Greater heroes are the prophets who, in the strength of a good conscience and in reliance on a God of righteousness, throw themselves against a false religiosity and the social evils of their times. Such are the prophets whose works we study, and we appreciate them, or at least we appreciate them fully, only when we get the true course of history before us. I do not wish to make extravagant claims. No doubt pious readers of the Bible have always had a sympathetic appreciation of these great preachers of righteousness. Yet it remains true that in the traditional biblical science the personality of the prophets was obscured by theo logical prepossessions. If the Bible is regarded as a series of prooftexts, divinely given to establish a system of doctrine, then differences in the human personalities through whom the revelation is given 70 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY sink into insignificance. The systematic theologian seeks for the faith the dogmatic faith once for all delivered to the saints. If this faith is necessary to salvation, then it must have been revealed, at least in substance, to Adam (if indeed Adam was saved), certainly to Abraham, then to Moses, after him to David and the prophets. On this theory the function of the prophet is to act as a commentator on the revelation already given to his predecessors. In fact Jewish expositors, followed by some Christian scholars, regard the work of the prophets as wholly subordinate, secondary to that of Moses. How foreign to a real historical apprehension of the Old Testament is this theory of a system of doctrine quod semper, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus I need hardly point out. To the modern student the great outstanding fact in the history of Israel is the originality of the prophets. These great religious geniuses gave Israel the ideas which have made Israel s book a power in the hearts of all right-thinking men, and which made that book a part of the Christian Bible. And the ideas which they set forth are not abstract propositions, the product of philosophical speculation on the nature of God and man. They are the result of an inward struggle in which faith contends against the obtuseness of the great mass, or against temptations to doubt concerning God s righteous government of the world. This faith it is which makes these men leaders and reformers. Elijah battles single-handed against the Phoenician THE OLD TESTAMENT 71 Baal, yet not altogether single-handed, for there are seven thousand in Israel who have not bowed the knee to the foreign god. Isaiah stands forth against king and people, but a little band of disciples cherishes his words and hands them down for a treasure to succeeding generations. Jeremiah seems an alto gether solitary figure, pathetic in his yearning for understanding and sympathy. Yet even he has a faithful friend and scribe by whom the master s example is preserved for the encouragement of faint hearted believers through the ages. The gain that may justly be claimed for the historical method is the clearness with which these great and often tragic figures are revealed to us. We have already noted that the prophets have been misapprehended because they were made simply expositors of the Law of Moses. Our dis cussion will not become complete unless we notice another view of them which has become traditional in the Christian church, that is the view that their chief office was to predict the coming of the Messiah. The literature on messianic prophecy must amount to some thousands of volumes, and in its most highly developed form it discovers all the details of Jesus birth, life, death, and resurrection adumbrated or distinctly described in the Old Testament. The promise to the mother of the race that her seed shall bruise the serpent s head is interpreted as the First Gospel. The whole series of sacrifices is supposed to point forward to the great and final sacrifice on the 72 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY cross. Jacob s two wives are types of the Jewish and the gentile churches. Where the literal meaning of the text gives no hint of referring to the future, resort is had to type and allegory to discover the desired prediction. That much of this exegesis loses its force when we use a really historical method must be evident. Are we then to discard the Old Testa ment as in no sense preparatory to Christianity? In attempting to answer this question let us notice first of all that from the nature of the case reformers look forward. He who denounces the evils of con temporary society must have some hope of a better social order to come. It is natural to suppose that the prophets had such a hope, especially when we recall the firm faith in a God of righteousness which motived their preaching. In the earlier period the hope was kept in abeyance, because the people to whom they preached were indulging optimistic dreams which must not be encouraged. There were plenty of prophets to flatter the people by saying all was well, when in fact all was not well. It was when the great calamity came and the Jews in their exile were tempted to give way to despair that the prophetic message changed to one of hope. To this extent there was prediction of a good time to come. Nor is this all. The Old Testament development, as we have seen, culminated in the triumph of the Law. This triumph came about by a series of com promises which would not have satisfied the demands of the greater prophets for a religion of the heart. THE OLD TESTAMENT 73 What actually had come was a religion of formality, and from the nature of the case this was narrow and exclusive. A religion for the Jewish community, one which ignored the mass of humanity, could never be the final religion. By its very imperfection therefore the Old Testament system prepared the way for something broader. In another direction and in a very different manner the way for Christianity was prepared. When the voice of prophecy was silenced it was succeeded by apocalyptic. Since the main literature in which this movement is embodied is outside the bounds of our Old Testament it need not be discussed here. Suffice it to say that the older view, according to which the Old Testament canon was closed by Ezra and suc ceeded by four centuries of silence, is discredited by a really historical view of the Old Testament itself. Development did not stop; it was not even suspended between Ezra and John the Baptist. The alleged four centuries of silence are vocal with hopes, fears, aspirations, and prayers. But it is impossible here to trace the development which led up to the proclama tion of the gospel. What I have now attempted to do is to sketch the present state of Old Testament study. The topic assigned includes also the prospect of this study. On this it is difficult to speak with confidence. The whole question of the function of the church in modern society is now under discussion. What theological study is to be depends of course on what the work of 74 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY the minister of religion is to be. The school of theology professes to train men for this work. The future of Old Testament study depends on the value of this study for the minister. If the discussion of today has shown that the value of the study is not now what it has been supposed to be in the past, I trust that it has yet shown that it has other values equally important. Emphasis is laid today on social reconstruction. If the Old Testament shows any thing it shows that religion has been the moving spring of social progress in the past. It reveals moreover the method by which religion has wrought for social advance. This being so we can hardly avoid the conclusion that Old Testament study will hold its place in the curriculum. HENRY PRESERVED SMITH THE NEW TESTAMENT NEW TESTAMENT STUDY TODAY The Meadville Theological School came into being when New Testament study was receiving perhaps the most vigorous shock of its entire career in the radical contributions of Ferdinand Christian Baur and his followers of the Tubingen School. It is a commonplace that Baur began a new era in our science; the history of this School is coincident with that era. The time-spirit whose hand is so obvious in the devious course of biblical science can be traced not less clearly in the development of the School s curriculum and methods. In 1843, but a few months before this institution of learning began its career, the redoubtable and misdoubted Theodore Parker had introduced "destructive German criticism " into America by publishing in Boston a translation of De Wette s Old Testament Introduction. But it was not read in the first years at Meadville. In 1858 followed the New Testament part of De Wette s Einleitung, also published in Boston, and made by another Unitarian minister, Rev. Frederick Frothing- ham. This came to Meadville apparently without question. Fifteen years is a long time in such matters. Where minds are really free and open to the light, movement of thought is rapid and closely follows 75 76 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY the progress of science in any chosen field. A genu inely liberal institution of learning is sensitive to advance in any part of the intellectual world and faithfully registers it. It is instructive to go into our library and look over the succession of books on the life of Jesus, for example, and note the dates at which they came to our shelves. We have there an epitome of the development of theological science and an impressive testimony to the loyalty of the School to the ideals of freedom and progress on which it was founded. Strauss s Leben Jesu was still a nine days wonder when the School was born, and came out in George Eliot s classic English translation two years afterward. Thus the whole course of the attempt to construct a purely historical picture of the mission of Jesus is practically coincident with the life of our School. But I am concerned on this occasion not so much with any resume of the past as with some registration of the present status and method of inquiry into the problems of New Testament study. That there is an enormous difference between the New Testament study of 1844 and that of 1920 needs not to be said to anyone with the slightest acquaintance with the field. And this great difference is not so much in the subjects of inquiry and the answers propounded as in the method and motive of the inquiry. How and why do we concern ourselves with these problems? So soon as we ask this question, the situation is clear. We are no longer dominated by the spirit of Baur THE NEW TESTAMENT 77 and Strauss, much as we owe to their labors. There is a new spirit abroad in our discipline. The phe nomena of primitive Christianity are no longer for us philosophical phenomena, occurring in conformity to a scheme of logical development; they are no longer dogmatic phenomena, intended to serve as the sup port of doctrines of theology or even capable of so serving; no longer literary phenomena, the writing and editing and collecting of documents; no longer even simple historical phenomena, to be listed as mere data in the chronicle of the first century. As all these, singly or in combination, has the primitive tradition been treated, and so treated in vain. Not thus has it yielded up its real secret. Now we are approaching the origins of Chris tianity as a group of phenomena in the human experience of religion, and we begin to know their significance. Even the writings are not ultimately documentary phenomena: they are religious phe nomena. Men wrote as they were moved by a holy Spirit, not by a furor scribendi. It is a very simple thing thus to describe the rationale of our inquiry, but it is a very profound and far-reaching observation that we have thus made. And the realization of this truth means the greatest transformation in attitude toward the materials of the Christian tradition that the Christian mind has ever undergone. The investi gators of the literary process have too often failed to ask why the literary process at all, or to recognize that the driving-power lay outside the bookroom. 78 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY We are beginning to see more clearly. To use a single example, the question as to the authorship of so-called " Ephesians " by Paul is not finally a question of hapax legomena and style and agreements of text with Colossians and comparison of ecclesiastical terms. The writer of Ephesians was a man, with a profound experience of religion awakened by the impact of the Christian gospel. The writer of Romans and Galatians and Corinthians was a man, in vital and direct reaction on a religious experience. Our question is ultimately: Are these two experiences one, the reactions of the same personality ? For all these documents get written only as the embodiment of a religious experience and have as such their sole significance, have here the one norm for their inter pretation. Of course they came to be by a literary process, but that process was used by something more ultimate and sovereign than itself. That philosophical and theological considerations played their part who would dispute? That all alleged facts must meet the test of historic evidence, with no more exemption or concession in the field of religious history than in that of science, is of course axiomatic. But we are sure that in no one of these aspects lies the ultimate importance and significance of the materials of New Testament study. A survey of the various departments of research within our field, and of the various problems that call for solution, in each, would give us impressive confirmation of this position. The New Testament THE NEW TESTAMENT 79 meets us today as a volume, a collection. Who collected it, and when? Above all, why? What inner unity is there among these seven-and-twenty documents that precisely they, and no others, found place in this canonical selection ? And when we dis sect the volume into its component elements and face the problems of New Testament introduction, the situation is the same. These documents are obviously not books, prepared for a publisher, from the sales of which royalties might be drawn. Quite other motives prompted those who wrote. One- third of the documents are anonymous; who were these men, unlettered some, professional writers none, whom an overmastering religious impulse drove to the pen? We ask their names, their dates, their circumstances, their motives, for no reason save that we may get nearer to the experience which created their little pamphlets and made them immortal. Questions of authorship may be quite idle; they are certainly so if they spring from no interest beyond the purely literary or historical curiosity. From any such point of view, it matters not a whit who wrote the Fourth Gospel; let us say an anonymous Asian Christian of the early second century, and be done with it. Only from the standpoint of an under standing of the gospel of Jesus is it of supreme impor tance to learn whether this writing presents a personal disciple s trustworthy account of the Master s actual words and deeds. So whether the " Epistle of James " is an early writing, from the first or second decade 8o THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY after Jesus death, or is one of the latest works in the canon, from a time when the movement of Jesus is perhaps a century in being, is not a chronological problem at all, for those of us who study it. Save for our interest in this writing, one date is as good as the other, since absolute dating is impossible. But our interest; yes, that makes the question important whether this somewhat prosaic, practical homily, with its excellent if somewhat domestic morality, with its bare mention of Jesus in two formal phrases only, represents the first fresh impact of the gospel upon the Master s own generation, indeed, upon his own flesh and blood, who drank from the same mother s breast with him, or sets down the ethical counsel of a preacher in the more sober days of the next century. Whether the Apocalypse of John is a literary unity becomes for us the question whether it is a spiritual unity, whether it sprang in its entirety out of the mind of Jesus own beloved disciple, who lay upon his breast and heard his words and breathed in his spirit. Or have we the work of a fiery and loyal devotee, who out of Jewish apocalyptic shapes a vision of the return in glory of that messianic Lord whom he can picture only as the seven-horned Ram from whose wrath the peoples flee in terror, or as the mighty warrior on the white steed of victory, fur nished with the sharp two-edged sword? Have we here the influence of the historic Jesus on a soul that knew and loved and understood him, or the influence of one aspect of his eschatology on a passionate THE NEW TESTAMENT 81 hater of oppression and lover of the people of God, a poet and a seer to whom not only the heavens and the abyss were open, but the treasures of a hundred prophetic books as well? Such questions are the real questions of New Testament introduction. We do not always, indeed, raise them in just this form, but if this were not their real significance for us, we should not raise them at all. As having only a literary or historic interest they would not compel our attention beside a thousand questions of this kind of vastly greater importance. But because behind all our study lies the insistent urge of the religious interest, every detail that brings the writer and the writing nearer to our comprehension is of vital concern. We look back at the men a dozen or more of them who penned the writings in the New Testament, and we see them, not as writers at all, not as theologians, still less as philosophers, not as historians or chroniclers or biographers; we see them as simple men who have been laid hold of by an overmastering impulse of religion. To its service they give themselves; these bits of writing, letters for the most part, are by-products of their Christian life. They would surely now be surprised to learn that they survive in human memory as writers; their writing must have been so secondary in their consciousness that they might have forgotten it altogether. The biblical criticism of the past was at fault here. It almost completely depersonalized the writers, 82 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY with its talk of "the apostle," "the evangelist," and in practice made the men coterminous with the written fragments preserved in our canon. Paul, for example, was equated with the handful of thirteen or fourteen "epistles" there ascribed to him and dominated Christian imagination as a letter-writer, a man of the pen, always at the desk. So lamentably was this most vital man of affairs misconceived! Baur and the Tubinger made him into an idea, the idea that is most prominent in the polemic of the letter to the Galatians. Of Paul beyond the driving concern with that idea there was practically none; of letters, indeed, there were acknowledged only those four which served in some degree as vehicle for that idea. For many exegetes, Paul has been the theologian, and the only question of importance about him that as to the Lehrgehalt of this or that epistle. The very word "epistle" has connoted documents whose prime purpose was to serve as the medium of dogmatic instruction. We have at last learned that Paul was not primarily a letter-writer. That a dozen or so letters survive bearing his name is nothing extraordinary; you and I have doubtless written more within the past week. Even as the writer of these letters he is not author, composer, still less is he theologian or ecclesiastic. He is the most human of men, carrying on a tremendous enterprise to which a letter now and then is incidental. The discovery of many other letters in the vernacular Koine of the time has dispelled the solemn fiction of "New Testament THE NEW TESTAMENT 83 Greek," but it has shown also that the biblical periods of the Pauline letters are the customary epistolary courtesies of his age. We have recovered Paul the man; in this matter we are much indebted to Professor Deissmann of Berlin and Professor Weinel of Jena, as well as to English scholars like Percy Gardner, who has given us an admirable study of the Religious Experience of St. Paul. When the letters are relegated to their proper place and seen in true perspective, we can for the first time judge intelligently as to their authenticity or pseudonymity. As vehicles of "Paulinism," they can offer no reliable testimony on this point. If the four-epistle Pauline canon of Baur has been enlarged to contain at least double the number, it is not on purely literary grounds nor on dogmatic grounds; it is because the same human being, engaged in the same gigantic task, with the same religious experience and the same reaction on his human problems, meets us in all. In our application of the human, religious, psychological test we do not, of course, ignore the literary tests. It goes without saying that vocabulary and style and indications of literary relationship with other documents are as important in our study today as at any previous time; it is only that such criteria are no longer the only ones, or the ones which necessarily dictate the final decision. The purely literary tests need to be used with great caution in dealing with occasional letters, which are not systematic treatises or books, and with not more than a dozen such letters available 84 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY for comparison. Who would venture to fix the style and vocabulary of any modern writer, for example, from a dozen of his letters ? I Corinthians has more than two hundred hapax legomena, Romans more than one hundred. Zahn once drew up a list of eighty- six suspicious " words and phrases in Galatians. Yet such data, however multiplied, cast no shadow of doubt on the Paulinity of these letters. In the case of letters dubious from the personal side they would have their weight. The Synoptic Problem has for us of today been transformed into the synoptists problem; it is not a problem of documents, but of men. What we really want to know is not how Mark s text is related to the hypothetical Q-text, but how the human experience of the religion of Jesus that found expres sion in the gospel- writing traditionally called "accord ing to Matthew" is related to that other experience registered in the writing to which Luke s name is attached. These two writings are different, not primarily because the documents on the editorial desk were different, but because the men at the pen were different. The traditional usage of speaking of one of the first four writings in our New Testament as a gospel (language which would have shocked immeasurably a Christian of the first generation) has blinded us to the fact that each means to be the gospel, the very Christianity, the heart s religion, of some earnest believer. That he set this gospel of his forth for the spiritual quickening of others is THE NEW TESTAMENT 85 not a literary fact, but an item of his religious life. Of course he used such written sources as were at his disposal, but the important thing is never his appro priation of sources, but his own contribution, the stamp of his own religious experience which lies across it all. That it was which impelled him to write; that it is which kept his writing alive and makes it worth our study today. The instructive thing is to inquire what was going on in the soul of this devout and nameless man whom literary tradition incor rectly calls Matthew. His literary procedure is fairly obvious, but no one of his sources nor their mere combination expresses his gospel. That becomes visible in what he does with his sources, how he interprets them, how he adds to them or quietly passes over certain of their passages. The two- document hypothesis is now practically certain, but we lack as yet a completely satisfying exegesis of these three gospel-writings which will reveal the true inwardness of their variations. Such an exegesis we are just ready to prepare. The Acts of the Apostles is just now a battle ground of literary criticism. Its sources are being eagerly sought, and perhaps the most interesting of the purely literary problems lie just now in this field. Professor Torrey finds Aramaic sources for a large part of the work, a thesis which has divided New Testament students. Here again the purely literary argument seems inadequate. Grant that the linguis tic phenomena of the first half of the work indicate 86 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY an underlying Aramaic text (which is far from certain), the theory must be tested as a whole with its corol laries and consequences. Here its enormous diffi culties become apparent. The reactions on the work and word of Jesus which it attributes to believers of the middle of the first century, the impulse to write compends of the gospel which it dates long before the death of Paul, throw the whole picture into psycho logical confusion. If anything is clear it is that the gospel was from the first an oral magnitude on its teaching side. Its original course is vividly pictured in that primitive word: "What I tell you in the darkness speak ye in the light, and what ye hear in the ear, proclaim upon the house tops." Of course the gospel was not primarily teaching at all; it was living, and was propagated by the contagion of personal example. Spirit kindled spirit. Christi anity spread from mouth to ear, but it also spread from life to life, and in its propaganda "gospel" did not primarily suggest a new teaching to be learned, still less did it mean a new book to be read; it meant a wave of blessed religious experience to be appro priated. Propagated as a life through the medium of an oral teaching which was but the commentary on that life, it came ultimately to find expression in a medium natively foreign to it, in the written word. Yet that written word was but the sketch of what was still conceived as essentially oral; it was but the preacher s notes, the compend of sermon-stuff. And it came only when it was absolutely necessary THE NEW TESTAMENT 87 that it should come; the living gospel resisted fixation in the written text as long as possible. As the first generation of missionaries passed away, those who had seen and heard Jesus himself, or caught the message from his personal disciples, the oral tradition was in danger. It was being preached at second, third, fourth hand, in new lands and new tongues, far from its original enunciation. Propagated in preaching only, where the form of words was governed by the audience and the occasion, as Papias says in his comment on Mark, the tradition began to lose fixed outline and fidelity to its initial content. The gospel could not go on forever as an oral proclamation. To preserve it, ere its essential form was lost, it must be written. The newer missionaries needed it as a manual to guide their own preaching. The rapidly multiplying churches needed it to nourish their faith in the absence of an apostolic teacher. For obvious reasons of this sort the gospel got written down by men of the second generation of believers, as the writer we call Luke points out in his candid preface, as the gospel tradition was " handed down to us by them who from the beginning were eye witnesses and ministers of the word. " Not in the earliest days, when the tremendous impression of Jesus personality and proclamation is still so vital, when no one thinks of the gospel as anything but personal and oral, which must be spoken in the ear and upon the housetops to all men, whether they will hear or whether they will forbear. Not in those 88 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY early days when Christians lived in daily, hourly expectation of their Master s return as Messiah to establish the Kingdom of God. His career had been but just begun; the days of his flesh were but the briefest opening chapter of the story of Jesus the Master. Spread his message; prepare men for his return; but write books about him? The thought does not arise. Busy missionaries like Paul, when they wrote, wrote practical letters in the furtherance of their work, which excite surprise today for their precise omission of "the gospel." The time of gospel-writing is approximately the time succeeding Paul s death. That primitive gospel Q doubtless belongs to the later sixties; Mark follows at the beginning of the seventies, Matthew and Luke probably in the last decade of the century. As a new generation comes on the scene, as the advent expecta tion cools and fades, as the message grows to have more values for this world and life continuing here, as those elements in it not directly bound up with the hope of Messiah s coming in heavenly power come more and more to their own, then the gospel is writ ten by one ardent Christian teacher after another. And the time when it is written down has profound importance for its form as written. As we read, we can see clearly how the gospel mirrored itself in the soul of each writer in turn, see also how it was making its way in the environment of his own Chris tian life. The gospels are extraordinarily naive and candid documents; expositors have gone greatly THE NEW TESTAMENT 89 astray in thinking them clever and subtle, their writers with skilful art so manipulating language as to make capital for favorite views. Nothing could be less accurate. What the gospel was to them they show, and all their motives lie on the surface. To turn to that amazing Apocalypse of John, in these latter days so much perturbing the vulgar Christian brain. It had its era of literary criticism, which, indeed, is not yet over, for it offers a great number of extraordinarily tantalizing literary prob lems. Its original language, its unity, its dependence on Jewish predecessors, its date and authorship on all these and many similar problems there is more light yet to be sought and found. That it is a literary product is clear; it is no spontaneous tran script of a single ecstatic experience. Quotation marks should thickly sprinkle its pages; it smells of the lamp. And yet it is profoundly original; an elemental spirit has laid hold of its somewhat heterogeneous sources and welded them into a compact whole, and in the process they have under gone a sea change into something new and passing strange. But our generation has seen that the riddle of the Apocalypse is not to be solved by literary analysis alone; back of their literary history the images and concepts have a history in the religious thinking of mankind, in diverse ages, among diverse peoples. The Apocalypse is the New Testament document where the religions geschichtliche Methode has the freest field and has won the most undoubted go THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY victories. Here in very truth we cannot go far without falling back on the study of the history of religious ideas and their visualization in the imagina tion of primitive man. Gunkel and Bousset, Charles and Case, have taught us here, and we have still much to learn. Not that John himself borrows directly from Babylon and Persia and the myths of Greece, but that he takes up current concepts and pictures which have behind them a long history of which he is unconscious. For him they are a part of the Jewish apocalyptic coin of the time. But no Jew before or after our John made such magnificent use of the material. It is all very well to say that this is an apocalypse like any other; it is assuredly an apocalypse unlike any other. Use all the methods of eschatological interpretation, of literary analysis; search mythology and folklore for the origin of dragon and serpent and white horse and ram, but the final clue is given by the fact that the ram is Christianized and made, with whatever of grotesque- ness, into the Messiah who had been slain. Though here we have eschatology in its most florid develop ment, it is dominated and controlled by a wonderful religious experience. It is not always that eschatol ogy and religion go hand in hand; here, as nowhere else, they are inseparable. The name and tradition of John of the Revelation have been widely borrowed for the writer of a com pletely antipodal work, the Fourth Gospel. No two writings could more definitely face in opposite THE NEW TESTAMENT 91 directions, and yet there is a baffling, elusive Johan- nine suggestion clinging like an odor about the Gospel. Time was when to name the anonymous author, and to name him John of Zebedee, was the most important thing to do with respect to this work. Now it is less important to name him than to fathom what manner of man he was and to understand his reaction upon the gospel of Jesus. After all, if he were the apostle John, then the apostle John wrote that sort of work and shared this well-defined con ception. The identification would throw light on him and his processes of thought, but none at all on the gospel, which stands there stronger than all theories and traditions. It is what it is, and any theory must fit it, not dominate it. Only gradually has the church yielded her conviction that here a beloved disciple of the Master spoke out the very heart of Christ. That tradition is today, however, yielding on every side. It yields with frequent reservations, to be sure, but it yields. It is difficult to suppose that the next generation will believe either in the Johan- nine authorship or the historical character of the work. But that is far from saying that the next generation will fail in any degree to appreciate the full worth of this anonymous masterpiece. The work from its earliest appearance struck readers of the synoptics as in sharp contrast to them, and has therefore been a problem. It was natural to inter pret it negatively, in terms of what it was not, what it lacked, of its divergence from its predecessors. 92 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY So in our day we have elaborate tables of these discrepancies and find ourselves placed squarely before the alternative: either the synoptic presenta tion of Jesus or the Johannine. They are mutually exclusive. Sentiment and doctrinal considerations apart, this judgment will stand, and will more and more compel the conviction of every disinterested student. But it is an enormous misfortune that the synoptics were ever made the standard for estimating this gospel, that it has from the first been seen in a negative light, as different from something else. For it is an intensely positive work and demands to be judged on its own merits, for its own peculiar and highly valuable presentation. That it is discrepant from its predecessors is relevant only if it aims to be what they are. But this aim it not only nowhere professes but at every point disavows. It does not mean to give the facts over again, or to sub stitute a new set of gospel facts for those already familiar; it means to give the significance of the facts for the faith of the church of the early second century. The Jesus who here speaks is not the historic Jesus of Galilee in the year 30; he is the Jesus of the church s faith nearly a century later. He is represented as declaring what he was actually saying through his church in those years. He is made the protagonist and spokesman of the church in its debate with the world, in its debate especially with the Jews. He is, by a bold but singularly felicitous device, let to say of himself what the church THE NEW TESTAMENT 93 says of him. The strange egotism of the gospel, a rock of offense to some, is here explained. The seven great "I Ams" are just the church s repeated "He is." To understand the Fourth Gospel we have learned to turn all the utterances of Jesus into the third person. But how effective is the first! The author might say of him: He is to our souls the Bread of Life, he is the Good Shepherd, he was before Abraham in the bosom of God his Father. Instead, Jesus boldly declares: "I am the living bread that came down out of heaven; he that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood hath eternal life." Could the evangelist have discoursed so effectively about the Eucharist ? He means to lift the veil of historic circumstance and let the heavenly visitant shine through in his proper glory. Every reader is put in the place of the three disciples in the synoptic incident of the Transfiguration, an incident which fails in this gospel save as it has its equivalent in the gospel as a whole. Or we are like the disciples of Emmaus: our eyes have been holden. Now, of a sudden, they are opened, and he is known of us in the earthly setting for a dweller in another sphere. We see what he really was, what his words really meant, what his deeds signified, what was implicit in him, what was involved in his very being here, the divine reality back of the human phenomenon. The eternal val ues assert themselves. The Fourth Gospel is the faith of the church put into the mouth of Jesus and into symbolic deed at his hand. It is not a true 94 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY record of the Galilean Jesus whom Pilate crucified; it is a marvelously true picture of the Asian Jesus of the early second century, the Lamb that removed the sin of the cosmos, who had long ago died and risen and ascended up where he was before, the eternal Logos, who by the twin sacraments of the incarnation and the excarnation had redeemed the world. The actual historic life of Jesus we study today as a phenomenon in the history of religion. All other aspects of it are subordinate to this, indeed, are unintelligible save in the light of this. The great fact itself and the various legendary accretions that gathered round the fact serve this interest and this alone. Something happened there in Palestine 1900 years ago that cleft human history sheer in two. It was that a young man had an extraordinary experience of religion; nothing save this. His words and his behavior were but the outward flowering of his religion. His life was obscure enough and without notable incident; it left its unparalleled impression not at all because of what he did, but because of what he was. Of incident in Jesus career there is practically nothing in the records save those benevo lences to which a later age attached the name and dogmatic conception of miracles. But even such of these as seem clearly historic incident and not legend ary embellishment had no such uniqueness and in terpretation as later dogmatic necessity put upon them. It was not, in any large sense, a notable career; it was, in every sense, a notable experience THE NEW TESTAMENT 95 of religion. It was as a religious man that Jesus worked what we call miracles. Not as Messiah, not as Son of Man or Son of God, not by virtue of any unique status, did he go about doing good, healing alike the bodies and souls of the people. Healing and helping the poor was no part of Messiah s task; Jesus compassionate heart, his deep sense of brother hood, drove him to meet the piteous need, and his profound faith in the power and the love of God made him able to serve as the efficient mediator of that power and love to suffering men and women. There can be no historic question that Jesus was endowed with notable powers, especially powers of calming disordered minds and restoring diseased organisms to health. It is precisely modern science, with its researches into pathological psychology and its revival of the ancient practice of psycho-therapy, which has made us believe that the stories of healing by Jesus and the apostles rest on a solid foundation of fact. Colored, enlarged here and there in the process of oral tradition, the list of cases has inevitably been, yet in the main the things happened. The sick were cured, the demoniacs were relieved of their possession, not always permanently in either case, perhaps, but often or commonly so. If Jesus were not a successful spiritual healer of this type, the Gospels could hardly make any claim to historicity, and many a modern therapeutist would leave him far behind. As to the four nature-miracles recorded, they are either legend or the outgrowth of simpler 96 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY happenings. As legend, we can see and appreciate their homiletic point; in a story like that of the fig tree blasted by Jesus curse we can see a parable turned by repeated and vigorous homiletic use into a narrative of outward fact. We are far today from that rational izing treatment of the miracles which, as Matthew Arnold well said, got rid of all the poetry without removing the difficulty. We do wish to give them rational treatment, but reason tells us that when Jesus "went about doing good and healing all that were oppressed of the devil" it was truly because "God was with him"; it was a phenomenon of religion. And when these narratives became a part of the synoptists record, it was for their religious significance; they were gospel for these writers, texts for preaching, not "miracles," not "proofs" of anything. The "evidential" use of these narratives, foreign to their origin and fatal to their religious effectiveness, is fortunately passing away. As A. B. Bruce said as far back as 1892, "Men do not now believe in Christ because of His miracles: they rather believe in the miracles because they have first believed in Christ." Jesus himself, long ago, when he vehe mently repudiated the kind of sign the Fourth Evangelist presents with such zeal, evaluated cor rectly the worth of conviction based on evidential miracle. " It is an evil and adulterous generation that seeks after a sign, and no sign shall be given unto it. " William Temple asks (Mens Creatrix, pp. 311-13), "What could be further from discipleship than one THE NEW TESTAMENT 97 who was convinced that Christ is the revelation of God, while wishing all the time that he were not? 7 The powers of Jesus evidence a great, ardent, vital, kindling, religious personality, who moved and spoke with an authority that even his enemies had to acknowledge, to which minds normal and abnormal were submissive. This is the great outstanding phenomenon, which demands our recognition and our reverent study. But the issue is only beclouded by trying to save any meaning for the term " miracle" which can be valid for the twentieth-century mind. The eschatology of Jesus is another element in his religion which only in our own recent day has come to be correctly esteemed. From the latter part of the first century, when its literal fulfilment began to appear dubious, it has been a difficulty, something to be explained away, as meaning something else. Dogmatic theology had little trouble in giving it an ecclesiastical interpretation, and the latter-day " lib eral" theologians, with their social and ethical predilections, found the Kingdom of God on earth the key to his ministry precisely in the same sense as it was to their own. The Jesus of their presentation, who belonged to the nineteenth century as much as to the first, and rather more to Berlin and Oxford and Boston than to Capernaum, was not the Jesus of the gospels any more than was the Jesus of the creeds. In our generation we have once more become content to take him as he was and to find in the actual first- century Jewish artisan apocalyptic teacher something g8 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY of the measure of religious emancipation which his contemporaries found in him. We have reluc tantly consented to give up our efforts to explain away his eschatology and are trying to see it as a genuine part of his religious experience. This at once simplifies enormously the task of the interpreter of the gospels, and lets him for the first time deal candidly with his sources. Johannes Weiss opened our eyes here, and Albert Schweitzer gave us a still more vigorous arousing; English and American scholars like Lake and Burkitt and Scott and Bacon and many more have commended this understanding to ever-increasing numbers. Of Weiss s epoch- making little book (Die Predigt Jesu wm Reiche Gottes, 1892) Schweitzer says It posits the third great either-or in the investigation of the life of Jesus. Strauss posited the first: either purely historical or purely supernatural; the second the Tubinger and Holtzmann fought out: either synoptic or Johannine; now the third: either eschatological or noneschatological. 1 This third " either-or" may now be said definitely to have been decided; Jesus mission was definitely eschatological in the contemporary sense. He did expect the coming of the Kingdom in his own genera tion, and he did go to his death believing that beyond the gates of Hades he would return as the apocalyptic Son of Man to inaugurate the reign of God. But having said this we have said nothing as to the essential contribution of Jesus. This program he 1 Geschichte der Leben-Jesu Forschung (2d ed., 1913), p. 232. THE NEW TESTAMENT 99 found ready to his hand, adopted it, and adapted it to his particular situation. The "consequente Eschato- logie" of Schweitzer errs not in its main positions, nor in its consistency, but in its sometimes limited vision. That Jesus fitted into this framework is true; that he was no larger than it is untrue. That he teaches the ethics of the Kingdom is true; that his counsels are merely interim-ethics, of significance only as the special requirement for admission to the Kingdom, is untrue. In a word, Jesus dreamed that God destined him to the messiahship, but that destiny he accepted only with hesitation, not as exaltation and glory, but as a great and solemn task, a supreme service. He soon came to see that the Jewish leaders meant to have his life; shame, suffering, and death, then, he accepted as steps to his messiahship, involved in the obligation his Father had laid upon him. The realization of that exaltation, therefore, and his entire messianic career consequent upon it, he sets over into that future period beyond his death. It in volves resurrection and exaltation to heaven, whence he shall come as the Son of Man, with heavenly equipment, to fulfi.1 his appointed task. Thus the messiahship is entirely absent from Jesus earthly life; here, though he has prematurely discovered the career that is in store for him, he realizes it only in anticipation; in no sense and in no degree does he function as Messiah before his death. His work here and now is simply that of the prophet, announcing the coming crisis and preparing men for it by moving ioo THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY them to change of heart and purifying of life.. He is here, in Holtzmann s felicitous phrase, his own forerunner. He is not Messiah, he is to be; the Kingdom is not present, but future. But all his counsels as to the conduct of human life have inde pendent validity; they represent the ethical ideal of this religious genius. For his bidding is: Prepare to enter the Kingdom by turning about and living the Kingdom-life now. The way to get in is to live as if you were already in. The kind of life which is to characterize the Kingdom, perfect in its filial relation to God and brotherly relation to men put on that kind of life now and when the Kingdom dawns you will be prepared to enter in and live as its citizens. Interim-ethics would be the counsel to do some strange thing, to fast or be baptized or do penance. Jesus ethics are the ethics of eternity; their constant undertone is: Live as a child of God. So soon as we eliminate the Kingdom and the messiahship from Jesus present life, and set them in that expected future beyond the grave, we shall see that he thought of them in contemporary fashion. His original contribution is not here; his great work, where his heart is, is his present work of preparation. He was not establishing the Kingdom, but only gathering a citizenship for it, a people purified, prepared, and waiting. When he died the Kingdom had in no sense or degree yet come; for Paul and the earliest genera tion it was in no sense behind, but before, an object of longing and hope, and their work, like their THE NEW TESTAMENT 101 Master s, was to increase that body of citizens. The eschatology of the primitive church was that of Jesus; he had not been, but. was to be, Messiah, and they looked up into heaven for his advent, not his second coming. As the first generation passed away, and all things remained as they were from the founda tion of the world, the promise of his coming grew dim and dimmer and the faithful began to look back at the Master s single sojourn upon earth and to messianize that as the only messianic period possible for him. Whereas for Paul and the earliest genera tion Jesus messianic status began only with his resurrection or ascension (the two are one), and his messianic functioning only with .the still future parousia, for Mark he is Messiah from the baptism on; so for Luke, who, however, carries some of the messianic dignity back into the infancy. Matthew with his narrative of virgin birth (an element lacking in the original text of Luke) makes Jesus birth into humanity his birth as Son of God, and so his whole life from the cradle the career of Messiah. The Fourth Gospel goes farthest in this direction, making Jesus the Logos-Messiah from all eternity, so that the supreme status belongs to the whole period of his incarnation and equally to the eternities which precede and follow it. Yet it is notable that none of the evangelists can successfully messianize any period before the actual ministry. In substance all follow Mark: the beginning of the gospel of Jesus the Messiah, the Son of God, John came baptizing. 102 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY But all such intermingling of the messianic career with the earthly life of Jesus is wholly foreign to his own conception and promise, and to the clear under standing of Paul and his contemporaries. We thus eliminate from the mission of Jesus that eschato- logical element which has been so great a stumbling- block to some by transferring it, in accordance with his own mind, to the time subsequent to his death. His actual life is left free for that work of spiritual renewal which has made him the supreme servant of the ages. Doubtless his evaluation as Christ was necessary to carry his person and his influence down to succeeding generations, but it is Jesus who saves you and me, not Christ, just as it was Jesus who saved countless penitent men and women who fell at his feet and received his assurance "Thy sins, which are many, are forgiven," before he was ever known or dreamed of as Christ. The eschatologists are right; Jesus shared literally the messianic hope of his time. He expected literally the realization of the Kingdom within his own genera tion; he devoutly and humbly believed that when Messiah should be sent to transform this present evil world into the new heaven and new earth wherein should dwell righteousness, it would be upon his own shoulders that the awful burden would be laid. He did not "reinterpret," or "spiritualize" these con ceptions in any essential way; it being always remembered that they were by no means fixed and stereotyped programs, but fluid plastic expressions THE NEW TESTAMENT 103 of an ideal hope. What his hearers meant and understood him to mean by his language was what he did mean. But this exalted career lies for him beyond the cross, and none of its elements are mingled with the task God gave him to do as Jesus the prophet of Nazareth, the friend of sinners, the task he accom plished so supremely that those whose lives he had re-created could not choose but accept his evaluation of himself, and in the face of his death and the prospect of their own, though the heavens remained obstinately shut and no sign of his longed-for advent came to cheer them, could still affirm in unwavering confidence, "God hath made him both Lord and Messiah, this Jesus whom you crucified, and we know that he shall come, even as he said. " Thus what Wrede calls "the messianic secret in the gospels" has been revealed, not indeed in precisely Wrede s fashion, nor wholly in Schweitzer s, but through the working together of these and other seekers for the truth. Thus, in one department after another of New Testament study, scholarship today is approaching a common method and a common understanding. Wide differences in detail there still are and must necessarily continue to be. But one by one the great fundamental conclusions are being established, and our science moves on to new positions, once sighted afar off by pioneers, now the secure ground of all forward-looking scholars whose work is done in freedom and with an eye single to the truth. The great accomplishment of our day, the thing which is 104 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY going to make fruitful the researches of the immediately succeeding generations, is not the settlement of any specific vexed question, but that realization that the New Testament is purely and simply a phenomenon of religion. There used to be a department of our science called the Theology of the New Testament a curious phrase, as if documents could have a theology. And it was so studied and so taught: the theology of Hebrews, the theology of the Apocalypse. We demanded the dogmatic content of impersonal texts, without concerning ourselves with the experience of the man who wrote them, who might be unknown or doubtful and therefore need not bother us. Even where the writer was best known, " Paulinism " was more important than Paul, and might be extracted from documents whose writer was certainly poles asunder from Paul in religious temperament. All this anomaly is changed today, we may gratefully bear witness. Titles are stubbornly conservative, as witness those in the Revised Version of our Bible, which represent tradition rather than the conviction of the revisers. Our seminary catalogues still offer courses in the Theology of the New Testament. Heinrich WeinePs great work, published in 1911, is called, in accordance with the previously arranged scheme of the editors, Biblische Theologie des Neuen Testaments, but Weinel himself gives it the subtitle Die Religion Jesu und des Urchristentums, which is the subject of which it actually treats. The whole THE NEW TESTAMENT 105 book is written out of the new attitude. He writes in his introduction: From a real "biblical theology," the preaching of Jesus would have to be excluded entirely; a theology Jesus simply did not have, he was an unlearned man of action. Even Paul is falsely understood, though after the fashion of his people he was a trained theologian, if he is considered primarily from this point of view. He is a missionary, and all his letters stand in the service of his mission The place of the biblical theology of the New Testament must be assumed by a presen tation of the religion of the earliest Christianity. Wilhelm Wrede of Breslau as early as 1897, in his brochure, Uber Aufgabe und Methode der sogenannten neutestamentlichen Theologie, had already set forth this approach to the subject in words extraordinarily fruitful for the future. He asks: What are we really seeking ? In the last analysis what we actually wish to know is this: what was believed, thought, taught, hoped, demanded, striven for in Christianity s earliest day, not what specific documents contain on the subject of faith, doctrine, hope, and the like. This is a comment upon the caption : New Testament Theology/ But it may serve to sum up the status and prospects of New Testament study in our time. It is not today, still less will it be in days to come, study of the New Testament as such at all, but study of the religious experience which those precious docu ments enshrine and of the human personalities in which that experience was kindled by the life-giving touch of Jesus, from which it was transmitted by spiritual contagion to be the supreme treasure of succeeding ages, down to our own, and after us, world without end. CLAYTON RAYMOND BOWEN CHURCH HISTORY HISTORY IN THEOLOGICAL EDUCATION The two generations covered by the life of this school of sacred learning have witnessed the progress of one of the most momentous changes ever wrought in the history of mankind. If we are willing to divest ourselves for a moment of all unessential details we may readily convince ourselves that since fire was brought down from heaven, from being the plaything of the gods to be the most important of the servants of man, there have taken place on this earth only two changes of the first magnitude in the processes of human life. The first of these was when some unknown genius conceived the idea of subjecting the wild beasts of the field to the purposes of human industry. That change occurred so long ago that all memory of it has faded from the minds of men. History has no record of a time when the horse and the ox were not ploughing the field or moving the weights too heavy for men. The earliest pictorial records of civilization show us chariots of war drawn by noble horses splendidly caparisoned, and back of these there must have been a long, long story of struggle leading to the final domination of man over beast. The second great material stage of human prog ress is marked by the application of the long-known 106 CHURCH HISTORY 107 expansive force of steam to the mechanical needs of the modern world. Between these two epochs it is not too much to say that the fundamental processes of industry had not essentially changed. The plough which turned the virgin soil of Ohio was not greatly superior to that which had scratched the furrows of the Euphrates valley. The rate of trans portation of goods over the roads of this country before 1840 was slower than that obtainable on the ancient Roman roads, because those ancient roads were better made. But it is not merely, nor even primarily, with these vast transformations in the material world that we, as students of human history, are concerned. Paral lel with all material and industrial movement goes on also a movement of human society adapting itself to the ever shifting forms which these applications of power are sure to take. The control of physical resources by one man, or by a group of aristocrats, or by the organized workers themselves gave rise to those political structures, monarchies, aristocracies, or democracies, the story of whose rise and fall makes the substance of that unending record we call in a special sense history. And once more, during this whole long period, from the beginning of recorded time to the opening decades of the last century, these political adjustments and readjustments went on in a society not essentially changed. Privilege at the one end, slavery at the other, and in between such shifting associations of free industrial and financial io8 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY groups as could win a foothold for themselves and prove themselves useful to society as a whole. Then came the greatest, and, so far as we are concerned, the final change. Within the memory of men now living this astounding development of human energy we call the modern industrial movement has gone on. It furnishes us with one of the backgrounds for the consideration of every phenomenon of the modern world, but it is only one. There is another of equal, perhaps even of greater, significance. In the years during which the first steam engines were doing their pioneer work in industry a group of eager experimenters were making those first observations which were to result very shortly in the proclamation of what we now know as the development theory of all life. How vast and how complete a transformation in the thoughts of men upon every subject this new doctrine was to make only we of the elder generation can now appreciate. To younger men who have grown up in the atmosphere of what the elder Agassiz used to call " devilopement, " it came as a matter of course, but during the earlier years of this School, the battle raged with a fury unequaled in any sub sequent encounter of ideas. On the one side were ranged all those forces which seemed to find support only in what we now recognize as the " spasmodic" conception of life, of life, that is to say, broken up into periods of time and into forms of existence to be accounted for only on the theory of arbitrary interruptions, coming in from CHURCH HISTORY 109 some vague region known as "outside" and regulated by some still more vague personality, whose essence was arbitrariness, and whose methods were inde pendent of human volitions. That is a conception of life that dies hard. It is far from dead yet. It appeals to all that sense of utter dependence upon something outside ourselves which to many minds is only another way of expressing religion. On the other side of this great debate were enlisted from the start all those other elements of society which found the chief satisfactions of their thought in the idea of unfailing and unending law. To such minds the movement of all life seemed to be only the unfolding of one vast design. They were not greatly concerned with definitions as to final causes and still less with ultimate purposes. What cap tivated them in the new presentation of the vital processes was its suggestion of a law of being working itself out through the development of new forms and new capacities out of those already in existence. To them the statement that God made man in his own image contained no fantastic implication of an artist building an image after his own reflection in a mirror and then, as it were, winding up this image to run its brief course in the infinite procession of things. It meant rather that man, built up through the natural processes he was now just beginning to observe and to interpret, was himself a part of the universal life and contained within himself a share of those potentialities to which in our despair we give the name of " divine." no THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY The issue of the conflict could not be long in doubt. Assailed at first with a blind hostility, the new ideas gradually commended themselves to an increasing number of thinking men until now it is only in the last strongholds of reactionism that they are nomi nally condemned, and even there they are being restated and appropriated to the purposes of orthodox propaganda. At first too these ideas were captured by over-ready champions and presented with a crudeness and a confidence foreign to the scientific spirit of Darwin and his like. They had to be pruned and fostered by judicious disciples before they could be set free to do their noble work of clarifying and ordering the thought of men. But what, you will be asking by this time, has all this to do with the condition and the future of church history ? I will try to answer. The leaven of these transforming ideas began to work in a world already deeply absorbed in an entirely new enthusiasm for historical studies. One of the most obvious reactions against the French imperialism of Napoleon was a revival of nationalist zeal throughout Europe, and one of the first expressions of this nationalist spirit was the impulse to investigate every detail of the past experience of every country. Where political activity was frowned upon and promptly suppressed, this more subtle form of nationalist propaganda was directly encouraged. Vast enter prises looking toward the collection and publication of the historical records of Germany, France, Italy, CHURCH HISTORY in and England were inaugurated and maintained, and this activity goes on to the present moment, in diminished volume, but with unabated energy. And not in the collection of material alone. Monumental histories, covering not merely the nations then in existence, but including every country and every phase of the ancient world, were produced, and the great European countries vied with each other in the scope and magnitude of these under takings. What especially interests us, however, is the new spirit which animated all this eager activity. Wholly in harmony with the character of the investi gations of Darwin and his followers, this new historical school introduced a working principle that was nothing less than revolutionary. Or rather, if I may put it in this way, they elevated to practical importance a principle known to every historian from Herodotus down, professed by them all and violated in greater or less degree by them all. That is the principle, so simple that it hardly needs to be expressed, that the historian should make no statement not based upon the kind of evidence by which such a statement can be proved. No one doubted the soundness of this theory of historical writing; but until the period we are speaking of very little had been done to bring it into effective practice. Take, for example, Gibbon. There is no doubt whatever that Gibbon read faith fully the original materials on which his narrative is based, but he nowhere analyzes in detail the whole body of this material. He by no means swallows 112 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY it whole; he accepts here and rejects there, but his concern is more with assimilating his material so that i will reappear in a new and impressive form than in weighing and measuring it according to any principles of criticism. Gibbon published his great book in the year of American Independence. Now it is precisely this process of critical analysis that distinguishes the work of the nineteenth-century historical school. Niebuhr wrote his history of Rome between 1811 and 1832. He was the first to lay profane hands upon the sacred traditions of the early period and to do this in pursuance of a definite theory of historical criticism. It was his merit to make clear once for all that it was the first business of the historian so to examine and co-ordinate the whole body of his material that his narrative should be able to stand the test of the most rigid inquiry. It was the method of all true science applied to a subject that until then had hardly been reckoned among the sciences at all. The Muse of History had heretofore been represented with a pen; henceforth the spade was to be added to her necessary equipment. It has been customary to speak of this new epoch as a German contribution to civilization, and there is no doubt that the qualities of the modern German people were peculiarly adapted to the working out of all the detail of the process. But the work has been done by all the civilized peoples of Europe with such variations as the national genius of each natu rally produced. The method has been one, and the CHURCH HISTORY 113 result is a magnificent volume both of material and of interpretation, upon which all future production will have to be based. Let us ask ourselves for a moment what has been the permanent content of this result. It has given us in the first place a new conception of the meaning of the word "historical. " At a conference of teachers and writers of history I was engaged in conversation by a person whom I judged to belong to the race of so-called "Educators" and who proceeded to enlighten me with his views about history. "The trouble with our history now-a-days, " he declared, "is that it is too retrospective," and during the rather bad quarter of an hour which he gave me this phrase kept recur ring like a refrain in his monologue: "Our history now-a-days is too retrospective!" Precisely what he meant I did not discover. Whether he had some vague idea that history ought to concern itself more with the present or with the future was not clear, nor in his case did it greatly matter. He had got his phrase, and that for him was the main thing. In his vacant fashion he was expressing the notion that the attention of the educators of our day was turning too much to the past and to that extent neglecting what he would doubtless have called "live issues." I refer to this only as an illustration of a prevailing error in the definition of the historical. To say that history concerns itself with the past is to indicate only one of its distinctive characteristics. Another of these is that history deals with an endless H4 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY series of sequences of cause and effect, and it is this aspect of the historical that specially interests us here. For it is in this law of sequence that historical study found its closest analogy with the scientific movement. A new canon of historical criticism was set up and, allowing for human frailty, fairly rigidly maintained. That canon was that in this chain of sequences there can be no breaks, nowhere and nohow. This is by no means to say that the connecting links between the cause and the effect are always to be discerned. If human insight could accomplish this feat we should be gods, not men. What was demanded was that we should recognize the fact of such connection and then in all humility go as far as we can in trying to understand it. Above all else the teaching of this new school was that in this attempt to understand there was no room for fear. No matter to what unforeseen results our boldest inquiries might lead, there was only one thing to do, to accept them and fit them in as best we might into the whole volume of discovered truth. The historian and the scientist were to work by the same methods and be guided by the same faith in the permanent value of careful re search and honest judgment. A colleague of mine in the field of geology sent out one of his most promising pupils to teach in a remote institution of learning. On his arrival the young man was assured by his departmental chief that the institution justly prided itself upon its liberality. He was to expound the principles of geology absolutely CHURCH HISTORY 115 as he believed right, but with a certain hesitation when he came to explain the creation of the earth he would do well to consult the president! No such feeble faith could long resist the assault of true learning and invincible courage, and these were si lently doing their revealing work! Occupation with the past and a method depending upon the sequence of cause and effect these are two of the elements which go to make up the definition of the historical process. There is a third of no less importance, touching upon the nature of the evidence upon which the so-called truth of history must rest. That evidence is absolutely limited to the witness of human beings. No matter whether this witness be borne orally or in writing, by document or by tradi tion, it becomes historical evidence only so far as it relates to things knowable by ordinary human powers and transmissible by ordinary human means. It takes no cognizance of revelations or miracles or dreams or visions, of honest intentions, sincere hallucinations, rumors however confidently believed in, or legends however widely accepted. The chal lenge which the historian must face is the same as that presented to the witness in a court of law. Hearsay evidence will be refused. A legal colleague of mine tells a story of a witness who said: "I was sitting in my office, when I heard some one in the corridor, and I said to myself . . . ." "Stop!" said the opposing counsel "I object! That is hearsay evi dence. " No less rigid is the standard of the historian. n6 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY But it will be said that truth reached by this method must always suffer from the frailties of human nature. Perfectly true; the same is true also of the decisions of every court of law. The honest historian knows that what he calls truth is only a high degree of probability, but just as the civil community finds its safeguard in the acceptance of the decisions of its lawfully constituted courts, so the world does best when it accepts the results of the highest historical scholarship it can command. It is only a savage com munity that tries to even things up by shooting the judge. So far I have been speaking of history in general, meaning thereby what we all mean in ordinary dis course, the record of political and social institutions as they have been shaped by economic and racial struggle. I come now to that phase of history which is my special topic, the history of the Christian church, and, if some of the considerations to which I have already called your attention have seemed to you so obvious as to be mere commonplaces, I fear I shall only be adding another of the same sort if I remind you that the history of the church is only one chapter in the history of mankind as a whole. Well, commonplace or not, it is true that to bring this fact to the conscience of the thinking world has been the hardest struggle of the last two generations of scholars and teachers. To apply to the records of the church the same hard, cold standards of critical judgment that were being applied to the records of other forms CHURCH HISTORY 117 of institutional life seemed to the men of the early nineteenth century to be a kind of blasphemy. To ask in regard to these records: When were they written? Who wrote them? Were their alleged authors in position to know whereof they were speaking? Were they likely to be actuated by any personal or partisan motives in preparing their accounts? Have these records come down to us as they were made, or have they been tampered with by ignorance or partisanship? All these questions seemed like an impertinence to multitudes of faithful souls. The beginnings of your School coincide pretty nearly with the early stages of this bitter conflict. Strauss s Leben Jesu appeared in 1835. The monu mental activity of Ferdinand Christian Baur extended from about 1840 to 1860. Many names, laudatory and abusive, were given to the school of criticism of which he was the founder, but the name by which its members specially elected to be called was the " historical school." They claimed above all else to be working historically, and by that they meant just what I have been here trying to suggest, the appli cation to the documents of Christianity the same tests as to trustworthiness which were being applied in every other field of human organization. It was inevitable that the methods of this new process should have been exaggerated, and this exaggeration was still more emphasized by the sys tem of philosophy which was dominating the most Ii8 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY advanced thought of the day. The fascinating propo sitions of the Hegelian School found one of their most brilliant illustrations in the sweeping deductions of Baur and his associates. The records of early Christianity, it was said, must be studied in the light of that invariable process of conflict and reconciliation that formed the shibboleth of Hegelianism. Not theological discussions, but historical antitheses were the stuff out of which the only solid structure of history could be built. And here were the antitheses ready to hand. Christianity, as everyone knew, was preached by a Hebrew to Hebrews and only in a comparatively later stage and in face of bitter opposition was it so interpreted that it could be made acceptable to the gentile world. Here then you had the perfect field for the Hegelian formula. First the conflict between Hebrew and Gentile, and then the reconciliation. Consequently here was the key for the understanding of all early documents. It was not very difficult to sort out such of these as were distinctly Hebrew or were distinctly Pauline, but there were others as to which this sharpness of distinction could not be maintained. What about these? Why, obviously, these must be attempts at reconciliation between the two. Further, since the Hebrew writings were likely to be the older, the Pauline later, and since there could not be recon ciliation until there was something to reconcile, it beautifully followed that here was a chronological scheme into which the whole of the early Christian CHURCH HISTORY 119 literature could be fitted with quite satisfying completeness. It was a pretty game and it worked out to an astonishing measure of success. The fault with it, as with so many other feats of German ingenuity or ingenuousness was that it was too complete. It laid itself open to the charge of violating the very principle it professed to illustrate, and it needed only the mole-work of far inferior minds to show its weak points. No one, I suppose, would now undertake to defend the critical results of the Tub ingen Historical School in their entirety, and yet I do not hesitate to say that it marks by far the most important moment in the whole progress of church history studies. It established once for all the foundation on which all future study and teaching were to be built. It is not too much to say, as Adolf Harnack said of himself, that every writer on church history since 1860 stands on the shoulders of Ferdi nand Christian Baur. The foundation has been broadened, but it could hardly be deepened, for it touches the bedrock of a truly scientific method. Through its support church history has made its way into the company of the sciences. It would be going too far to say that there have been no backward steps in this general movement forward. The acceptance of a truly historical method in church history has often been a grudging one. Many devices have been adopted to save the remnants of the ancient spasmodic doctrine of life and to 120 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY employ the language while denying the spirit of fearless and unsparing criticism. Men are still play ing with definitions of the miraculous, definitions of a thing which does not exist. Belief in the miracu lous exists indeed, as it has always existed, but that is a problem of human psychology, not one of physical science. The Roman Catholic church is enjoying one of its moments of jubilant expansion over the belated discovery that Joan of Arc was or is, which ever may be the correct tense a saint, and everyone knows that the final test of official sainthood is the performance of a required number of miracles duly attested by the witness of persons who, simply because they are human, are absolutely incapable of bearing witness to anything not perceptible by ordinary human faculties. Such phenomena as this are for the moment discouraging. They prove how reluctant people are to follow out any chain of rational thought to its inevitable consequences to use the language of our present interest how hard it is to get people to think historically. And yet, taking the large result, it is certain that the historical achievement of the last half-century has been one of its greatest triumphs. The reaction of these European discussions upon American thought could not be long delayed. The extraordinary political, economic, and social advance of Germany after the Franco-Prussian War attracted to her all those young, eager spirits who were dis satisfied with the academic opportunities at home CHURCH HISTORY 1 21 and were seeking for the something better they vaguely desired but were too immature to formulate for themselves. They joyfully embarked on the Great Adventure, and came back, some of them with a blind enthusiasm for everything German, others with a better balance of judgment between the really good things Germany had given them and the overblown national conceit which nullified so much of the good, in other words, a reasonable mingling of admiration for German accomplishment and detes tation of the German national character. I was one of the earliest in this company of ardent youths who came home to challenge the academic world of America to give them a chance. When I began my service in 1876 the conditions of historical instruction in America had but one encouraging aspect, namely, that there was a great work to do and very few workmen ready to do it. In one of our most important Eastern colleges the only teaching of history was given during one-half of the Senior year by the professor of the harmony of science and religion! Any respectable gentleman with a reputa tion for much "reading" was fitted to sit behind a book and hear the recitations of reluctant under graduates. As to church history, the situation was, I think, a little better. The very necessities of theological controversy compelled a certain acquaintance with the general course of historical events, and a certain familiarity with at least the great fundamental 122 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY documents of the Christian faith. It meant a good deal that the first history of the church to be written with a truly historical purpose, the still useful treatise of Neander, should be translated by an American scholar as early as 1847 an d should be widely accepted as the basis of instruction in theological schools. The fatal thing about this instruction was its isolation from the study of history in general. As a rule the teachers of church history were men not specially trained in historical study. They were almost without exception clergymen, and in far too many cases were clergymen who had ceased to be useful in the proper work of their profession. Where the first impulse to better things came from I am unable to say, but certainly one of the earliest indications of a change is to be found in the terms of foundation of the Winn Professorship at Cambridge, of which I had later the honor to be the first incumbent. This foundation took place in 1876 through a decree of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts allowing certain trustees under the will of Jonathan Bowers Winn, a Unitarian layman, to devote a portion of his bequest to this purpose. The bequest had been made to the trustees for the benefit of the Unitarian denomination, and the decree of court sets forth among its numerous "whereases" that " Ecclesiastical History is an essential department of study for Unitarians, as well as other ministers, and is of the highest value in the religious education of Unitarians, as of other youths." In enumerat- CHURCH HISTORY 123 ing the duties of the professor to be appointed the decree says: He shall also give instruction .... on such subjects as the religious history of the world; the relations of secular and church history; the influence of Christianity on the Roman Law, of pre-existing institutions, religions and philoso phies on Christianity; and the origin, history and scope of the canon Law. Quite a sufficient program, you will agree, to engage the best endeavors of at least a half-dozen professors, and needless to remark that the later incumbent never succeeded in wholly fulfilling its require ments. I quote this interesting document here as a sig nificant indication that, at least so far as Harvard University and the Unitarian denomination were concerned, the traditional separation between so- called secular and church history was at an end. My own appointment to the Winn Professorship six years later, in 1882, I felt to be a still further expression of this purpose, for I had been during just that interval of six years a teacher of European history, dealing with the church only as one among the institutions of European society. So far as I have had any influence upon the young men now veterans in the pulpits and the academic chairs of all Christian denominations throughout the country, it has been in this direction of a purely historical con ception of the origin and progress of Christianity, both on its institutional and on its doctrinal side. 124 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY There is one further aspect of the Winn decree of almost equal, perhaps in its results of even greater, importance. Several times in the course of its specifications it repeats the provision that the instruc tion given under its endowment shall always be open to all students of every department of the University. That is only another way of saying that the history of the church is an essential part of a knowledge of history in general, without any special reference to professional equipment. In pursuance of this pre scription the courses in church history were accepted by the faculty of arts and sciences and incorporated with the offerings of the department of history. The attendance of arts students has ordinarily been distinctly larger than that of theological candidates, and, so far as diligent inquiry could discover, the mingling of the two has been acceptable to both. In this past generation there have been few can didates for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in history who have not chosen some topic for their general examination from the field of church history. I speak of these personal observations only as illustrating the progress which the study of church history has made as an essential element of American education. I need only to remind you that the man to whom all of us look up as the most distinguished American historical scholar of his time, Mr. Henry C. Lea, worked almost entirely within this field. Today there are no more profound students of Euro pean church history here than James W. Thompson, CHURCH HISTORY 125 of Chicago, Charles H. Haskins, of Cambridge, Rufus Jones, of Haverford, and George L. Burr, of Cornell, though none of these is technically a pro fessor of the subject. In the year 1884 I had the privilege of being one in a little group of historical students who met at Saratoga and organized the American Historical Association, since grown to be the central organ of historical scholarship in the country. One of the most interesting problems of its early years was the question of church history studies in their relation to the work of the Association as a whole, a question which became more acute through the action of the church historians themselves. Not long after the founding of the Association, in 1888 it was again my fortune to be present at a meeting of teachers of church history at the house of Professor Philip ScharT of Union Seminary, called to consider the formation of a Church History Society. It was my opinion at the time, and in this I was supported by Professor George P. Fisher, of Yale, that the wise policy would be to join with the Association as a separate section, but this opinion was perhaps for tunately overruled, and under the vigorous leader ship of Dr. Schaff the new Society went on for several years as an independent organization. Later it was incorporated with the Association, but meanwhile this body had grown to such portentous dimensions that the Society felt itself crowded into corners and cramped in its activities, and again it separated and 126 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY enjoyed for a time the devoted service of Dr. Samuel Macauley Jackson as its guiding spirit. Since his lamented death it has been once more placed on a new footing and is doing efficient work in bringing together professional students and teachers of church history and in publishing their results. So far as organization goes we may, therefore, regard the present conditions of our subject as most encouraging. It holds an honorable place in academic programs, it is professed by men who have usually had a long and technical preparation for this special work. As a rule these men are duly impressed with the importance of maintaining a sound relation between church history and other historical pursuits. What then shall we say as to the prospects for the future ? Prophecy is not the business of the historian and I am not concerned here with giving any glowing picture of what the coming years may bring. It is always the tendency of the historian to measure the future by the past and to restrain the natural impulse of sound human nature to see it with the eyes of hope and faith rather than with those of experience. One thing is certain: organization and equipment may do much in stimulating an interest already existing, but they can do little to create such an interest. The real problem is: to what extent his torical studies are going to attract the best minds among our academic youth, and we may be fairly sure that such attraction will represent well enough the interest of our community in general for the CHURCH HISTORY 127 historical view of present problems. So far as the schools of theology are concerned, it must be con fessed that two other interests have crowded upon the more distinctively historical studies with almost crushing effect, during the past generation. These are the speculative and the humanitarian, especially the latter. "Social ethics," the application of the Christian morality to the relations of man with man in everyday contact, has claimed the attention of many of our most promising youth almost to the exclusion of every other consideration. There have been times when it required all the faith and courage one had to maintain the due proportion of values for the historical foundations without which the theological speculations and the humanitarian enthu siasms of the moment are floating about in a nebulous twilight of ineffective vagueness. Especially has this question been forced upon us by the incredible catastrophe of a world-war. In the early part of the year 1916 I found myself saying to an audience of Harvard graduates that the most surprising thing about the war was the number of impossible things that had happened. The war was impossible because mankind had become too highly civilized; if war should happen it could last only a few weeks because the combatants would all be killed off by that time; it could not go on long because the frightful cost would beggar all the nations engaged, and yet here it was after a year and a half, going on with increasing bitterness and intensity, 128 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY and, as we now know, destined to go on for three years longer. It would seem as if this were enough to make men see the futility of all prophecy; but the too ready tongues of our talking people still wag bravely on telling all who will listen how things are going to be. On the one hand we are told that the historic instinct has been so keenly aroused among the nations that for a generation to come there is going to be no more active interest than the study of the past as the final justification of national aspirations. On the other hand we are assured that the Great War marks an epoch between all the outworn traditions of the past and a golden future based upon a new con ception of social order, of social rights and social obligations. Into this new world religion is to enter as a necessary guaranty of its most important rela tions, or else it is to disappear entirely among the rubbish of the discarded past. My own judgment is that, as has always been the case with oracular utterances, these widely differing prophecies mean only that the ancient conflicts are to go on, under new forms, it is true, but with essen tially the same real issues. In the future, as in the past, it is going to be the perpetual function of calmly thinking men to utilize the lessons of experience in judging the problems of the present as they offer themselves for solution. What we have to insist upon is that a rational balance be maintained in our institutions of learning between these two extremes. CHURCH HISTORY 129 If we depart too widely from the heritage of the past, neglect our studies of language and history, and let ourselves be led astray by the will-o-the-wisp of " practical efficiency," then our youth will find themselves playing about with the loose ends of a sham science and an impotent philosophy. If, on the other hand we sit back in a dull insistence upon tradition without making clear to our youth its vital relation to the pressing problems of their immediate present, we shall find ourselves left high and dry on the arid heights of our own self-satisfaction while they wander without guidance in the alluring valleys of untried experiment. This present anniversary has a peculiar significance in this respect. It is the anniversary of a school which does not hesitate to call itself by the honorable name of Unitarian, and there is no better definition of the Unitarian mind than this: it is the historical mind. It builds its faith, not upon the fine-spun theologies of Greek ingenuity, nor upon the majestic institutions of Roman administrative genius, but upon the actual historical facts of the mission of Jesus of Nazareth. It studies the history of the expansion of Christianity from the beginning to the present day by the method we have been defining as the historical method, that is, by collecting and co-ordinating all available materials and then weigh ing and measuring them by the standards of human evidence. It accepts with reverent submission the idea of a single central Power making for righteousness 130 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY throughout the universe of things, but it sees the working of that Power in human affairs only through the instincts and capacities of our struggling human nature. It rejects with scorn the degrading con ception that human nature is essentially base, and emphasizes at every point all that it has of nobility and of kinship with the divine. There cfan be no better preparation for young men in facing the infinite perplexities of the modern world than a thorough training in the spirit and method of this historical process. It will help to keep their feet upon the solid ground of well-tried experience, and it will kindle their imagination also with the possibilities of new adjustments. It will defend them against the flippant promises of a nearby millennium and help them to recognize as they appear the signs of a true progress toward higher and ever higher ideals of life upon this earth. To such a future the traditions of this place point with no uncertain prophecy. Remaining faithful to the spirit of its past, it may look forward with renewed hopefulness and courage to wider influence and a success measured only by the resources, material and spiritual, that shall be placed at its command. EPHRAIM EMERTON SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY THE MODERN THEOLOGICAL METHOD Fortunately a large part of the organism of studies which constitutes theology has won a scientific method, with the result of a widespread agreement as to facts and the meaning of facts. The exegesis of the Bible was once so arbitrary that, as Dean Colet said, theologians could prove a point of faith as easily out of a fable of Ovid as out of John s gospel or Paul s epistles. Gone now is the fourfold exegesis, literal, tropological, allegorical, anagogical. Gone, too, the arbitrary methods which made the contents of Scripture mere wax to be shaped for the uses of the Lutheran or Calvinist creed. A critical historical method, justified to students of the most diverse ecclesiastical affiliations, has brought them to common results, so that the more recent literature of Bible study is undenominational. Similarly church history is no longer the naive uncritical narrative of medieval times or a polemic argumentation after the manner of the " Magdeburg Centuries." Historical science has won the day. The Protestant scholar delights in the church history of the Abbe Duchesne or the Histoire des Dogmes of the Abbe Tixeront. The work of Harnack, Loofs, Seeberg is assimilated by theological schools of every name. Certainly in 132 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY these large areas of the total field the scientific spirit and method have made final conquest, and with regard to the historical data there is a unity more real than was ever procured by an ecumenical council. We are therefore led to inquire what progress has been made or is in prospect for the establishment of an accepted and fruitful scientific process in securing and formulating the convictions which make the matter of systematic theology. A unity of method here would promote the spiritual unification of the Christian world. This is obviously a more delicate and difficult enterprise. Escape from the constraint of institu tional creeds has been found by changing the meaning of words. The terms are fixed. The new thought has to wear the old dress. Evasions and ambiguities have delayed the development of a genuine scientific treatment of the convictions of faith. Some theo logians have sincerely and bravely essayed the task, and the success of the critical historical movement has given them a measure of popular support. In addition, the emancipation of philosophy from eccle siastical control has made possible a large and un trammeled utterance on the subject of religious faith, contributive to the development of a scientific method of approach without the hindrances of accommodated language. In particular the scien tific examination of religious experience by William James has given great impetus to those whose hope it is to work out for systematic theology a method SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY 133 which by its general acceptance and the production of commonly shared results can renew the passionate hope of an ultimate Catholicity. The progress already made can be measured by observing the older method of Protestant scholasti cism which without paradox can be illustrated by the work of one who was an odious radical in his time. Joseph Priestley s Institutes of Natural and Revealed Religion (1772-74) is typical enough of the older procedure. The work has three parts. Part I deals with " natural religion. " Part II proves that we have a supernatural revelation in the Bible. Part III gives a systematic statement of the doctrines of this revelation as a rationalist mind understood them. In Part I we learn that the existence of God, the rules of morality, the life to come, are truths fur nished by reason, necessities of thought, or inevitable inferences from the world as we observe it. A theo logian like Priestley was comfortably secure in this fundamental proposition at a time when even the skeptical Hume maintained that "the existence of a Deity is plainly ascertained by reason" and that "the order of the universe proves an omnipotent mind; nothing more is requisite to give a foundation to all the articles of religion." By natural reason, then, according to Priestley, we know a being who is "an intelligent designing cause of what we see in the world around us and a Being who was himself uncaused." Since uncaused, he is eternal and im mutable. The effects of his causation compel us 134 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY to ascribe to him power, wisdom, goodness. Since the powers of nature are his divine energy, we know him to be an omniscient, omnipresent providence, unseen and therefore immaterial in being. From his goodness we deduce his holiness, justice, mercy, truth, characters which we can, indeed, conceive only imperfectly through the medium of his work in nature, but comprehend more justly by the aid of his special revelation. Our first parents thus by reason possessed the fundamental religious knowledge, but thereafter came a corruption of reason and conscience which made necessary an assisting revela tion. This is in the Bible, evidenced as supernatural revelation by miracles and prophecies. From the biblical revelation, then, is drawn the additional, fuller, clearer light of knowledge concerning God, duty, and the future life. So far as the method is concerned, it can be traced back to Paul s Epistle to the Romans. It was in fact Paul who founded for all Christian tunes this dual appeal to reason and revelation. Reason view ing creation discerns the eternal power and god head (Rom. 1:20). The moral law is a natural law (Rom. 2:14). But there is revelation in the law given by Moses and that direct personal revela tion afforded to each believer by his union with the risen Lord, a revelation which in PauPs case contains a dynamic power for the will and the emotions of the heart, while our sturdy, self-reliant, eighteenth- century rationalist needed only a revelation of SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY 135 information to the understanding. Scholastic orth odoxy and rationalists alike used the method which has been outlined, differing chiefly in the scope and content of doctrine drawn from the supernatural revelation. To the modern man, this method has become untenable. Since the time of Kant it is not com monly enough admitted that the existence of the supreme object of religious conviction is rationally demonstrable from the natural world. The claim that primitive man began with this clear rational knowledge and by a fall or degeneration suffered corruption and confusion of insight and conscience is belied by our modern knowledge of the slow rise of man from low undeveloped unspiritual beginnings. The critical historical examination of the Bible has invalidated the older way of conceiving revelation. Altogether, the former method for securing and formulating religious convictions has been made impossible. For an effective new start, the world is indebted to Schleiermacher. In place of a dogmatic discussion of the objects of faith, a doclrina de deo et rebus divinis obtained by reason and scriptural revelation, he made faith itself, the religious apprehension, the object of study. This is a revolutionary change of method. Instead of beginning with the existence of God as proved by natural theology, given by the necessita- tions of logical thought, the new school began with something which all men may be expected to admit, 136 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY the fact of religious feeling, the fact of that attitude or functioning of the human spirit which we distin guish from other functionings by the name religious. If a logically derived and logically defended con ception of God as the one omnipotent and all- intelligent cause of the universe is the defining fact of religion, the term religion could hardly be extended to the awe and reverence and worship seen in primitive peoples or to the original form of Buddhism. If on the other hand we are considering man s thrill of awe and humility in the presence of any superhuman might felt to be sacred or holy, we deal with a phe nomenon universal and essential in human life, something indisputable as fact. But the advance made by Schleiermacher can be best appreciated by observing the situation left by Kant. In his three Critiques Kant had elucidated three different types of apprehension. In the first he had studied the logical theoretic apprehension of science. Given the raw material of the data of sensation, the logical understanding weaves it into that network of relations which make the world as scientifically known. Our rules of logical construction are restricted in their application. They apply only to the data perceived in forms of space and time, to a phenomenal world. The transcendent divine cause of a universe is there fore not found by scientific knowing. Exit the old rationalism. In the second Critique, Kant dis tinguishes another functioning of the human spirit the ethical. This is specifically different from theo- SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY 137 retic reason. In this the human spirit as will the reason we live by rather than the reason that merely thinks and knows penetrates beyond phe nomena to the absolute discerned in the form of universal, necessary moral law. We have thus a clear distinction between two original, ultimate, irreducible activities of self, the cognitive or scientific, and the ethical consciousness. In the third Critique, the Critique of Judgment, Kant considered still a third type of apprehension, a third activity of con sciousness, the aesthetic. This again is independent, not to be resolved into either of the others. Kant thus analyzed human apprehension into three distinct, independently valid types: the cognitive, the ethical, the aesthetic. How then does he deal with religion ? He resolves it into the ethical functioning. The ideas of church doctrine are symbols of the- struggling experiences of the moral will that finds itself on the verge of two kinds of reality, the order of the causal nexus of the phenomenal world and the order of ultimate and sovereign worth. It is just here that Schleiermacher takes a significant step. He differentiates religious experience as a fourth valid functioning of the human spirit. It is not, as the rationalist meant, an act of metaphysical thinking and a proper moral consistency with the content of the thought. It is not to be reduced, as Kant would have it, to the ethical attitude of the will. It is a fourth, ultimate, irreducible, original, spontaneous functioning 138 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY of the human spirit. Furthermore, just as the ethical consciousness finds the absolute which is moral law, just as the aesthetic consciousness glimpses a complete and perfect unity shimmering through the broken and multitudinous things of nature, so the religious consciousness, and that alone, really finds God. The object found is God because it is the religious consciousness that finds and possesses the object. The case is not that of first procuring by cognitive reason an idea of an omnipotent intelligent cause of nature and then proceeding to invest the idea with emotional interest. Our reason may pre suppose or require such an idea, but God is given, is found, is met and possessed by the religious consciousness. It is that Glauben or consciousness which Schleiermacher makes the object of study as a systematic theologian in order to elicit from its contents convictions concerning God and the world and the redemption of man. Unquestionably the new method is illuminating and revivifying. Rationalism whether orthodox or heterodox conceived religion as idea for the under standing with logical results in conduct. The eighteenth-century rationalism had banished all the mysteries. It had contempt for "enthusiasm" for the illusion of an immediate personal communion with the present divine, for that which history reveals as the elementary beginning and the ulti mate quest of religious movements. Schleiermacher restored the religious phenomenon to its rights, SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY 139 restoring grace, revelation, communion to the present experience. It is not necessary to halt with Schleiermacher ; s particular exposition of the religious consciousness and its implications. Since the days of the Reden and the Glaubenslehre, we have obtained a vast body of knowledge concerning religious experiences, religious practices and ideas from the world- wide and age-long survey of comparative religion or, as it is now more commonly called, the general history of religion, and we now view Christianity itself in this general setting, however exalted may be its com parative place. We have in fact returned to the true and generous view of Clement s school in Alex andria of the second century, believing that the heavenly light shines on every creature that comes into the world, however confused and erroneous are the accounts given of that light, believing that the grace of God is indeed universal and that the religious experiences of all human beings represent a contact of soul with him whom we are privileged to dis cern as the Universal Father, however clouded and irrational and unwholesome have been the images projected by the devout imagination for the power that was found in experience. Inevitably the scien tific method of the modern systematic theologian must be in some sense a religions geschichtliche Methode. Not that however in any merely exter nal historical fashion. The historical survey has been deepened by a more refined and penetrating 140 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY psychology. A religious psychology yields a more accurate and scientific statement of the human religious consciousness than Schleiermacher could give. This union of a complete historical study and psychological method marks the arrival in the field of systematic theology of the scientific spirit and method which is the most recent achievement in theology. Certain changes of procedure are obvious. As Soderblom (Naturliche Theologie und die allgemeine Religions geschichte) has so clearly indicated, we have put the general history of religions in the fundamental place once occupied by what was called natural theology. Our evolutionary view compels us moreover to affirm the rise of man where once the fall of man was proclaimed, and we are brought frankly to the view that the Christian religious experience is a historically educated form of the general human religious consciousness. We no longer view the Bible as a miraculous interjection and ex pansion of ideas once known to natural reason but afterward obscured and perverted by man s fall. Nevertheless, we use it, no less eagerly and devoutly, as a wonderful record of that supremely privileged path of development by which the general human awe of the adorable Holy Power became the clear and purified recognition of the power that is holy through righteousness (Isa. 5:16) and finally as holy through that righteousness which is equal, im partial, redemptive Love. Jesus proclaims that such SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY 141 authoritative, sovereign, righteous Love purposes for his children the realm of life which is the goal and the loadstone of the Christian soul, making Christian ity, when it is a real experience, a passion of missionary endeavor for the spiritual unification of all man kind in a brotherhood of life wherein the spirit that was in Jesus shall be regnant in all. In place of using the Bible as a codex of revealed information, we use the Bible and Christian history for the deter mination of that dynamic essence of spiritual energy which we inherit through the forms of our historical religious inheritance inheriting it and re- experiencing it and which bears us on to the church which shall be at last the Holy Catholic Church. For natural theology we substitute comparative religion. For man s fall, we substitute the rise of man. For the supernatural canon, we substitute the dynamic substance of the Hebrew- Christian evolution. In all these substitutions we are studying a religious con sciousness that finds God, a record of grace and revelation. But we have not adequately expressed the debt of modern systematic theology to Schleiermacher. He was attempting a systematic statement and co-ordination of the convictions belonging by time s last result of historical development to his own circle, the Evangelical Church of Prussia. He must refuse to hold these convictions as mere deductions from some contemporary speculative philosophy a hazard of thinking. They must be convictions 142 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY held on the basis of a religious experience which was the final matured form of the human religious con sciousness evoked and educated by the pure and supremely kindling consciousness of God possessed by Jesus. The systematic theologian was not there fore pursuing a speculative venture of metaphysi cal thought. He was studying religious experience and he ought to have a genuinely scientific method, as clearly scientific as the method of the natural scientist who deals with those very different experi ences known as physical, chemical, biological facts. The scientist does not deduce these facts or the meaning of them from metaphysical premises. He attempts an accurate determination of them by inspection, and any theory or doctrine or belief which he arrives at is one implicated in the experience of these facts. It was just such a positive scientific method that Schleiermacher sought for the production of a systematic theology, one strictly analogous to that of the laboratory scientist but proper to the specifically different kind of experience vouchsafed to the religious consciousness. The doctrines thus obtained would be either descriptions of that experi ence, propositions, as we now say, of religious psy chology, or convictions about God and his relation to the world which are found involved and implicit in the religious consciousness, relative to it as the physicist s assertions about the world are rela tive to the data of his field of observation. This was Schleiermacher s intention and ideal. Doubtless SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY 143 the performance did not equal the intention. His description of the religious consciousness was in fact determined not so much by psychological observation as by his own metaphysical presupposition. One may say votum probo, opus non probo; nevertheless the systematic theology of today is a fresh effort of the kind which was his ideal. Following Schleiermacher came a transitional period in which the method used was an unstable union of empirical observation and philosophical deduction. Then came Ritschl, who once more made the question of method all important. Ritschl would eliminate any reliance on metaphysics mean ing essentially to repudiate the old basis of natural theology. He therefore resorts to the alternative basis of revelation and in so doing is at least super ficially in conflict with Schleiermacher, since he seems to draw only from a past historical revelation given first to Jesus and through Jesus impressed upon the earliest apostles. The apparent gain was that the data used were objectively given instead of being capriciously selected from individual experience, but the difficulty was in showing how the present-day believer appropriates the truth thus historically given. Apart from this Ritschl advanced matters by his analysis of the data of the historical revelation to a central essential idea, the idea of the Kingdom of God correlate to the fatherhood of God. To make this the central organizing idea of dogmatics was to shift the center of gravity from Paulinism 144 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY to the synoptic preaching of Jesus. Something of great importance survives thereby even with the passing of Ritschlianism. Ritschlianism had to pass. The rapid development of interest in com parative religion, due in part to the international influence of the Hibbert Lectures, forbade this isolation of the apostolic revelation from the rest of history. The religions geschichtliche interest latent in Schleiermacher s process began to come powerfully to its own. At the same time the remarkable under taking of William James in his Varieties of Religious Experience, though devoid of the historical element, acted powerfully to revive Schleiermacher s positive scientific method. The present situation then is one in which the theologian appeals to the data of religious history in general with supreme reliance on the Hebrew-Christian experience of God, deepening the historical, treatment by a psychological penetration to the essence of such experiences, and meeting the demand for truth in the convictions thus exhibited by a critical theory of religious knowledge. It is this last phase of the process which is of peculiar present urgency and if one may hazard an estimate, the theory in prospect will be not unlike the so-called " mystical empiricism" expounded in Lossky s Intui tive Bases of Knowledge. The effort to parallel Kant s method and exhibit a religious a priori in order to anchor experience in a universally valid rational element has not arrived at any clear result or general acceptance. Some theory of knowledge is SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY 145 needed to protect faith against fear of illusion when men are persuaded that faith or religious apprehension is not the logical cognitive activity of the intellect which lays such exclusive claims to dictatorship but an apprehension of another type, analogous to our non-logical aesthetic apprehension though dis tinguishable from it. The act of religious faith is conscious of laying hold of reality, of truth. It is not mere blind feeling. As Schleiermacher said in the Reden, it is Anschauung und Gefuhl, and the fault of his Glaubenslehre lies in the suppression of the element of Anschauung. The mere feeling of passivity to absolute causality could not, in fact, explain religion as we actually know it. There must be a recognition of the absolute worthfulness of feeling s object in order to justify all the emotional values of Schleiermacher s own religion. There is a " know ing" in faith, but the knowing is immediate, an intuition, not inferential thinking. When Tuckwell (Religion and Reality) insists so strongly that a judgment is not a comparison of ideas but a reference to a reality given; when Wobbermin (Die Religions- psychologische Methode in Religionswissenschafi und Theologie) urges so strongly that Ojfenbarung is the very criterion of religious consciousness, the consti tutive thing in it; when James characterizes religious experience as "a conviction, not merely intellec tual, but as it were sensible, of the existence of an Ideal Power," "a sense of Presence of a higher and friendly Power," we may surely see the tendency to 146 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY understand religious knowing after the manner of a higher realism like Lossky s. This is a view that, refusing to limit experience to sense perception, argues that in every case sense perception or other the object is contained in the knowing as immedi ately as when the self knows its own conscious states. We may at least hopefully declare that a theory of religious knowledge necessitated by the method of religious psychology is announcing itself. The psy chology and the theory of this knowing must alike interpret the fact that religion s form of expression is symbol and not logical concept. When it does that some of our conflicts with science are over. With symbol, if it be inevitable and really congruent even though it do not suffice fully to express the object found in this sacred experience, religion is content. Who can fathom the deep things of God ? Exeunt in mysteria can be said without alarm of all our most passionately held convictions about God and divine things as truly as for the highest and purest convictions about human souls when love reveals them to us. And dearer than all else besides, The tender mystery That like a veil of shadow hides The light I may not see. The mystery belonging to the moment of awe and adoration in the unseen presence hovers too over the forms of doctrine elicited from that solemn privi lege of communion. SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY 147 It is profitable to give something like concrete illustration to this formal account of method and procedure. In the first place let us make sure of the discrimination between a logical scientific explanatory treatment of reality and other dealings with it which must wear other names but are equally inevitable and equally valid. Consider the lilies, said Jesus. We may consider the lilies in more than one way. A man may ask to what family of plants the lily belongs. He may enumerate and describe the various elements of the plant in its root and stem and blossom. He may explain the functioning of these parts in the life of the organism of the plant. He may study the biochemical processes involved in its life. He may account for the origin of various types and species and show the linkages to larger inclusive groups of plant life. By all this classifying and relating he is explaining the lily. He satisfies our logical curiosity. That is one way, the botanist s way, the scientific way of considering the lily, for purposes of explanation. We may do all this without remembering that Solomon in all his splendor was not arrayed in so much beauty as the lily. But there is another person than the scientist who may deal with the lily, or the scientist himself may forget his botanical interest and respond to the lily with a simple joy in its exquisite beauty. In that attitude he ignores class relations and bio chemical laws and all other explanations. There is nothing to be explained. He is satisfied. He has joy. He will utter this experience in exclamations 148 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY or poetic words or song or painted representations. The scientist s consideration, the artist s considera tion, these are independent one of the other. Neither can be reduced to the other. One is logical, theoretic; the other is aesthetic. The lily means both these things. Both accounts of it are justified. The judgments involved are not of the same kind. In the one case we can distribute our attitude, our dealing with the object into various steps: such and such characteristics belong to this object; these characteristics define a genus of things; therefore, this object belongs in that genus. In the other case we take but one step: this flower is beautiful. As the Kantian would say, it is subsumed directly and immediately under an "idea of the reason." It is a non-logical or aesthetic judgment. It is intuitive. But let us desert the lily and choose for our reality a man. Him too we may consider scientifically, applying anatomy, physiology, chemistry, anthro pology, psychology, and various other explanatory processes, to pluck out the heart of his mystery. We may also ignore all these interests completely and simply yield to the heightened emotional thrill roused by his beauty. Lovers and friends do not feel in terms of biochemistry or ethnology. But the man as a part of given reality may have still another meaning to me. He may excite a very different response. He represents a possibility of action. He provokes impulses of conduct. I may deal with him in one way or another, but I am aware that one way SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY 149 is right, the other wrong. Neither the scientific account of the man or the beauty or ugliness of the man are involved in this ethical response. It is independent. I am facing another worthfulness in the sum of experience. The word for it is not " true" or "beautiful," but "good" or "right." Here again is an ultimate irreducible attitude of the human self to reality. It took a long time for humanity to become scientific or artistic or even moral, but there was another primal susceptibility which was easily evoked in the depth of time. Roaming in a scene half-realized, man found some striking and over awing object or situation that evoked another height ened emotional thrill not mere emotion however. There was perception, there was the impulse to action, but there was especially the solemnity of awed emotion. The storm, the burning bush, the forest stillness, the majesty of mountains, the grotto s gloom, the teeming prodigality of life and power in various beings all these were occasions for glimpsing a vast and subduing wonderful might that drew and claimed and obligated his shrinking humility of consciousness. Man had a word for what he thus discerned through the provocations of things strange and great. The word was "holy." The very scene where he had experienced this humbling and exalting attraction was ever after "holy" ground and was made a shrine for the revival of the great experience. But whatever object or situation evoked it, the 150 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY experience was not a discovery of logical relations, or of beauty, or of mere duty. It was the discovery of the sacred, the holy, the divine. That man, says Soderblom, is religious to whom something is holy. The story of religion is the story of the education of this primal religious experience which did not wait for science or aesthetics or ethics. It was not a case of a man saying argumentatively: There is a God. Something had occasioned and evoked a sense of a presence to which he said: Thou art my God. It was a case of revelation. God was there and the man gave himself to that presence with that complex of fear and loyalty, of humility, and of an exaltation through the yielding submission, which has found its own specific word for the presence so affecting man. The word is holy. Holy art thou, Lord, God! The history of religion shows that in this attitude there was not mere fear, not a sense of a terrifying power, but a sense of power exercising a not unwel come claim, a sense of being "tied" or obligated, a vague sense of "ought," which expressed itself often in what to us are senseless practices, but was to culminate in the saint s rapture of self-surrender with a consciousness of elation and freedom in the perfect. The greatest forward step taken in religious history was that which especially characterized Hebrew men of unusual religious susceptibility and energy who in a clash of human relations, a strife between unjust greed and brotherhood loyalty, penetrated to a deep meaning in the religious experience. Why this SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY 151 dread of violation, this impulse to yield self to the holy power as if therein were found the law and authority for man s life ? What was this constraint, this obligatoriness, this sovereignty ? These Hebrew prophets knew intuitively that the awe-fulness of the divine was its mandate of ethical righteousness, that its holiness was the exaction of justice. "The Holy God shows himself as holy through righteous ness" (Isa. 5:16). This was the beginning of ethical monotheism. It was established that the authority of God over man was the universal, uncon ditional ethical authority. With that new insight into the spell of religion, man rose to new levels. The beginning was such a case as Jacob dreaming of angels ascending and descending and wakening to fear: How dreadful is this place! this is none other than the house of God. And he vowed a vow: If God will be with me and will give me bread to eat and raiment to put on, then the Lord shall be my God, and this stone shall be God s house [Gen. 28]. Such was a beginning. And the end is this : As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God! My soul is athirst for God, for the living God! When shall I come and appear before God? [Ps. 42]. O God, thou art my God; early will I seek thee: my soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is. To see thy power and thy glory, so as I have seen thee in the sanctuary. Because thy loving kindness is better than life, my lips shall praise thee. Thus will I bless thee while I live [Ps. 63]. 152 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY The systematic theologian deals with this religious consciousness in its highest developed state, educated by the intuitions of ethical prophets, exalted and refined by the communions of Jesus, enabled indeed to discern the holy divine presence through the personality of Jesus himself, through him discerning the kind of being which can have the absolute sanctity and divinity, through him seeing the Father. The theologian must indeed be guided by his own religious sensibility, but he escapes any individual caprice in defining the experience which he studies and eluci dates by surveying the whole development of Chris tian consciousness, by seeking truth, as Dr. Oliver Stearns expressed it, "in the light of the Holy Catholic Church, purifying his judgment by searching the thought and experience of saints, ancient and mod ern. " Let us then outline what knowledge lurks for the student in the religious consciousness so determined. "My soul is athirst for thee, O God. Thus will I bless thee while I live." This is the utterance of the quickened religious consciousness. It is not an effort to explain anything whatever. It is man seeking, man finding, man meeting, man possessing God in the intuitive religious consciousness. It is not spoken to a material object. It is spoken to an imageless presence. And it is tense with the con sciousness of the supernal worthfulness of that presence. The words are a cry to utter an experience, not to give a definition of the reality experienced. SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY 153 The words embody the feeling of being affected in a particular and wonderful manner by the unimaged presence. That is the positive of this consciousness. You and I contemplating it can say various things about it. We say it is the experience of a spiritual reality. That is more negative. It says that this positive sense of a supremely worthful unseen is not the sense of a material object. This is a negative and inadequate way of expressing the peculiar constraint or authoritativeness of worth which the worshiper has experienced. But it helps: God is spirit. We see that this worshiper was aware of an authoritativeness unconditionally valid and we say that he experi enced an absolute. This is not the positive experi ence which had no concept. It is our contrast of his experience with the experience of less exalted long ings and impulses. It has a negative in it: not an object of relative worth, but "absolute." But it serves to use this concept negatively obtained: God is spiritual and absolute in worth. And we go on at once to say: not then an experience of things natural but of a being more than natural. The direct ex perience did not indulge in the act of contrasting. We are doing it as we must. God is in this sense "supernatural." The concept and the immediate experience are not the same thing. The concept is no positive expression of the experience. We note, too, that the worshiper is affected by a reality met in intuitive experience. It is given it is other than he, other than the concrete scene about him. It is 154 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY transcendent. But equally it is clear that the soul possesses it. It is immanent in his experience. He is surrendering, yielding, merging self into another, a spiritual, absolute, overarching, and yet kindred being athirst for it, rejoicing in it, praising and blessing it. We who contemplate him can only say that for him the worthful supernal being is personal to him. The worshiper seems to share in that being and indeed when he himself tries to utter this he cries: "Thou in me and I in thee!" Such inter- penetration we can parallel only in the contents of our consciousness. In the world of outer perception there are juxtapositions, not interpenetrations. The kindred case for the worshiper s felt relation to his God is the relation of elements of my consciousness to myself. It is true, therefore, that this worship and communion find a worthful transcendent and yet immanent being in a relation that must use the terms of personality. I am only illustrating hastily and inadequately that, using a truer determination of the religious con sciousness than Schleiermacher used, but pursuing much the same method, we obtain as inevitable neces sary elucidations of the religious consciousness itself a series of formulated convictions truths about God as the religious consciousness apprehends him. We have not got these propositions by borrowing from the logical explanatory dealing with reality but from the religious experience itself. We simply explicate the contents of that experience and we are enabled SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY 155 to say that God experimentally known is one spiritual, absolute, supermundane, transcendent, immanent being. We say that he is known as such by the knowing that is not scientific inference from the world, but is the direct intuitive religious knowing. These are great primary convictions about God which are thus won, and there are others that are developed as the presuppositions of such experiential knowing. For example, the conviction that the earth is the Lord s, that God wills the world. Prob ably enough, this cannot be got as the content of a simple, unanalyzed intuition, as a direct sense of world-dependence on God. But legitimately we can reflectively reason to the presuppositions of the experience and find there the necessity of the affirma tion that the world is God s world and serves his purpose. All the primary knowledge is by a single step, for all is but explication of "Holy art thou. " The relation of the Holy One to the universe requires another step. It is inferential knowledge. We are therefore led to seek assistance from any justified rational construction of the world which exhibits it as held in an ethical teleological system. This may illustrate the remaining question of the relation of systematic theology to metaphysics. Our dogmatics has explicated the meanings of the Christian religious consciousness, and it presents them not as mere statistics of belief but as convictions of truth. It is therefore concerned with the question of the validity of these faiths. That is a part of the 156 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY enterprise. But now to proceed to prove the validity of these faiths from the results of theoretic reason would be a desertion of the principle fundamental to the method which systematic theology has now adopted. That principle is, trust in the normality and independence of the religious consciousness. The proper apologetic, therefore, is first of all to disclose the grounds of validity inherent in the religious consciousness itself. When moreover we find the religious consciousness crying out, "Whither shall I flee from thy presence?" or affirming, "The earth is the Lord s and the fulness thereof," we may rest content with the inevitability of this intuition, but we may also better invite the co-operation of theoretic reason, as ally not as dictator. When we have fully explicated the Christian complex of faith, the Christian world-view, we cannot refrain from asking whether it furnishes a satisfactory answer to the general question: Why a world at all? We shall ask whether the results of theoretic explanatory reason stifle our Christian faith or give it possibility of breath. How far this interest will lead the expo nent of faith into ultimate philosophical discussions must depend on the degree of confidence which he has in any total philosophical construction and interpretation of the sum of reality known by all the modes of human apprehensions. If there is a system of metaphysics which commands unaltering universal assent, well and good! The systematic theologian will show the consonancy of what he SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY 157 elucidates for the religious consciousness with that universally valid and acknowledged system. If there is no such system, he will still gladly show that there is philosophic support for his content of faith, only being on his guard that he does not construct the faith as a deduction from the philosophy and thus constrain the plastic vital experiences of a soul which has other functionings than that of an explanatory understanding. FRANCIS ALBERT CHRISTIE RELIGIOUS EDUCATION EDUCATION IN WORSHIP Worship is any technique by which we stimulate those characteristic emotions that we recognize as religious. I am not attempting to define religion. Let each one do that for himself. But when he has made his own definition, or without any definition has recognized a certain experience as religious, he knows that there are states of feeling which are most char acteristic of that experience. It is the production of those states of feeling which is the purpose of worship. In origin and in theory worship is something very different. It is homage toward deity. Its signifi cance is found in its object. The subjective state of worship is supposed to be entirely incidental. The primitive worship was undoubtedly a do itt des. The great always demand adulation and tribute, pre eminently therefore the god must desire to be praised and to be enriched. The worshiper makes obeisance, presents sacrifice, pours out his libation, expecting that his god will reward him, or at least will refrain from hurting him. The resultant feelings of expectancy and of satisfaction are testimony to him of the value of his service. This is most clearly seen in such ceremonials as the war dance, the fast, the vigil. 158 RELIGIOUS EDUCA TION 1 59 The warrior has worked himself into a frenzy by his wild dance, in which he has simulated the actions of battle and in imagination slain his foe. He goes out to the fight all aglow with the excitement and attrib utes his rage to the inspiration of the god of battles. The value of worship is measured by the resultant feeling of the worshiper. Again, he fasts and afflicts himself in penitence or in self-abnegation to placate his deity and when the famine produces the charac teristic light-headedness with the tendency to halluci nation and abnormal visual experiences he thinks himself the recipient of unusual spiritual privilege. His own subjective state is the basis of his evaluation of his worship. But the worship is always thought of as objectively significant. The worshiper is sure that God wants what he offers. He is sure that definite results are obtained by means of worship which would come in no other way. He regards the particular acts which he performs as significant in and of themselves. The technique is prescribed by God just as the court ceremonial is prescribed by the king. So the elements of worship are always divinely ordained. The tabernacle is made according to the pat tern that was shown in the Mount. The priestly prescriptions come through inspired channels. But the authentication of this objectivity is always in the subjective appreciation of the worshiper. It is interesting to note that the prophetic deroga tion of ceremonial is also subjective. The worshiper 160 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY says, "This ceremonial must be from God because I feel the awesome presence. I know in my own experience that God is in it. " The ethical Protestant says, "The ceremonial cannot be from God because it does not make you behave as God desires." He evaluates the worship in terms of its ethical motiva tion, and he does so because his religion is ethical. The only feelings which may be called religious are those which stimulate him to the ethical life. He generally, therefore, rejects the elaborate ceremonial and falls back on simpler exercises which help him to feel the Divine presence in the common relationships of life. He has only developed or rediscovered another technique by which to stimulate those characteristic emotions which he recognizes as religious. To our modern religion the distinction between subjective and objective values is unimportant. God who is spirit and seeketh those to worship him who worship in spirit and in truth cannot be con cerned about a particular etiquette. Whether the bread of the sacrament is leavened or unleavened, whether the water of the sacrament is much or little, whether the prayer is formal or extemporane ous, whether the worshiper kneels or sits none of these things can matter to God except as they matter to us. Tom Paine with a fine sarcasm suggested as an amendment to the Act permitting Quakers to worship God according to their own conscience that it would be more fitting to enact that God should be permitted to accept the worship which Quakers should offer him. RELIGIOUS EDUCATION 161 The worthship is ultimately in ourselves. It is what will make us worthy that is important. It is the motivation of our lives in which the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ is interested, not in any homage that is due to himself. We come then to the question of the place of worship in the motivation of life. It is wholly a practical question. Can worship do us any good? In the spirit of most utter reverence and of a simple faith in the God whom we know through Jesus we must evaluate worship in terms of its subjective effect upon ourselves. How can it be so ordered as to help us to feel toward God and toward men as we believe it is desirable for us to feel? Let me here state parenthetically my own conviction that worship will not outlive the faith in the object of worship. However much our psychology may teach us that worship has subjective value we should not be able to continue the practice simply for such value. Only if there is a real God with whom I am united in the exercise of worship shall I be able to carry on the exercise. Believing in God as fatherly, as infinitely under standing and sympathetic with his human children, we cannot, as we have already noted, think of him as concerned with any particular technique of worship for his own sake. That must be what Jesus meant by worship in spirit and in truth. The question of technique then applies to our selves. What kind of exercises will stimulate the 162 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY desirable emotions? Thus we get away from a metaphysical problem to an educational problem. What are the exercises of worship that people need to develop in them the right feeling-attitudes toward God and toward men, and how shall we train them in the practice of those exercises ? Let us attempt an analysis of the religious feeling. Without raising the question of primacy among the religious emotions, certain it is that a most funda mental one is respect. This is an elemental impulse having its origin in the animal order. Biologically its value has been in the acceptance of leadership. It is the counterpart of the instinct of mastery. The development of a devotion to the stronger, the greater, the chief, patriarch, king, has been of high importance in social evolution. Naturally this atti tude was carried over into the relations with deity and became the awe and reverence which have had so large a place in religion. Correlated with the feeling of respect or reverence for greatness and goodness is the feeling of humility, the recognition of one s own inferiority to the object of respect. One is less than the chief, and one is infinitely small in the presence of his God. The question arises whether the feelings of respect and of humility are desirable in a democratic society. Do they not belong to the old aristocratic regime? Superficially democracy answers the question at once in the affirmative. Children may be rude to parents and to teachers, inasmuch as they will not RELIGIOUS EDUCATION 163 be beaten. Servants may be impertinent to their employers, for it is easy to get another job. Youth may jeer at age, for the dead line is at fifty. The people may lampoon their rulers, for have they not elected them, and can they not turn them out of office ? The congregation may criticize the minister, for have they not " hired " him ? And why should we even have respect for God, for we are not quite sure that the philosophers will allow him to exist. As for humility, perish the thought! "All men are born free and equal." We bow to no one; "one man is as good as another. " Such a democracy would produce a vulgar world. It has no sanctities, nothing higher than its own stupid mediocrity. It would be profane. But that is only a sham democracy. The very essence of real democracy is respect for personality, mutuality of respect and of humility. Said Emerson, "Every man is my master in something." Said Jesus, "He that is greatest among you shall be your servant." The King stands bareheaded beside the casket of Nurse Cavell. Democracy needs more reverence, not less, until we shall have respect for every goodness and great ness, for every ability and skill, for every devotion and faithfulness. And for God. We shall not tremble before him; we shall not call ourselves worms of the dust. Perfect love casteth out fear, but it never weakens reverence. There is a demo cratic religion which finds God in the experiences of 164 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY common life, and not in superimposed authorities. But it is not therefore less reverent. God is not less wonderful because we find him in common life. Tennyson was humbled by the flower in the crannied wall. Perhaps the decline in worship has some con nection with the decline in reverence. They may develop together. Doubtless worship must be rein terpreted. Men have given up prayer because they did not believe in trying to tease God to interfere with the order of nature. But if prayer is meditation on the spiritual meaning of life it may come back with more power and may help us to escape from the vulgarities and profanities into a sense of the sacred- ness of ourselves and of our world, instinct with God. The sacraments have seemed futile, and sometimes even superstitious, as if some magic efficacy could reside in them. Baptism is a subject for new jests. But if the sacrament is a symbol of the sanctity of all life, if the sacred supper speaks of the Divine presence in men s eating and drinking, then it may help us toward insight, and that is the great need of a democracy. If we can practice our people in the symbolisms, the poetry, the rich appreciations of a genuine wor ship, we may get back into life that reverence, the loss of which must make us poor indeed. But religious feeling has ever been even more self-depreciatory. It has included the sense of fail ure. In primitive religion this may be fear that RELIGIOUS EDUCATION 165 the requirement of the god has somehow not been met, that this arbitrary and capricious deity has in some way been offended. In an ethical religion it is the sense of positive wrongdoing, or, more signifi cantly still, the appreciation of some good that has not been performed. "We have left undone those things which we ought to have done; and we have done those things which we ought not to have done. " With this is sorrow. Again in the less ethical religions fear of punishment, in the more ethical religions pain for the failure of the best. Conviction of sin and contrition for sin are not as common as they used to be. There are many causes for this: the decline in the belief in future punishment, the general belief in the benevolence of God, change in the ethical estimate of much conduct that was formerly regarded as sinful, perhaps a certain laxity of moral standards. We must have a more intelligent view of sin. The slums, the sweat shops, the dying children, the wasted youth, all proclaim us a selfish, sinful people. We need a conviction of sin before there is any hope of social salvation. If we would use Rauschenbusch s Prayers of the Social Awakening in our worship, we might get it. Jesus and the Prophets read to us thoughtfully might bring us to a godly sorrow. We must revive the symbolism of the cross. We may give the penitential Psalms their true social meaning and cry indeed, "God have mercy upon us. " i66 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY The introduction into our worship of a definite element calculated to help us to feel our social sins and to repent of them is an important need in our present-day religious education. The object of all religion is atonement, if we may read it at-one-ment. Whether it be primitively con ceived as satisfying God and thus averting danger and securing benefits, whether it be conceived in the modern evangelistic sense as getting right with God, that is, meeting the Divine conditions of pardon and spiritual blessings, whether it be conceived as recog nition of human failure and limitation with an expecta tion of Divine help for nobler living and a better society, religion looks to a surcease of the inward conflict and a resultant peace. The great religious souls have been conscious of what psychology recognizes as a release of tension, relaxation. The " fears within and fightings without " are over. The soul is satisfied. Religious literature is full of the expression of this peace of the spirit. Jesus promised this experience to his disciples, "Ye shall find rest unto your souls." Worship properly develops the feeling of peace. We confess our sins and receive the assurance that He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins. We seek help and receive the assurance, "My grace is suf ficient for thee. " We are at peace. How fitting that worship should close with a benediction. Proceeding in the analysis of religious feeling to a fifth element, I would mention confidence. I choose RELIGIOUS EDUCATION 167 this word rather than faith because the latter has been almost captured by intellectualism. When we say faith we think of opinion, but when we say con fidence we think of personal relationship. That has ever been the characteristic of the highest religion. The Bible is the great literature of confidence. It has just enough of skepticism to throw into bold relief its triumphant trust. Job may rebel, Jeremiah may despair, the psalmist may sing de profundis, but they all come out into the sunlight. Only Ecclesi- astes has no faith, and the editors have even given some to him. The martyrs may cry, "How long, Lord, how long, " but the vision shows them with palms of victory in their hands. Van Dyke wrote a gospel for an age of doubt. You cannot argue men into faith. Let a beautiful voice sing to me, "I know that my Redeemer liveth," and it is easier for me to believe in the life beyond than when I read any treatise on immortality. Let me sing with a hundred comrades "How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord," and I find myself believing that God is here, while the lurking skepti cism that all life is chance is driven away. The contagion of faith is wonderfully manifest in worship. Of course the psychology of such attitudes of confidence is very simple and that is a stumbling- block to some people. They object that they do not wish to put themselves into the way of being influ enced by mere feeling. During the great days that have just passed we were not ashamed deliberately to 1 68 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY organize the technique by which we could stimulate patriotic feeling. We said, Bring the flags, sing the songs, let the bands play, show us the boys in khaki, we want to be stirred, we want to be impelled to give our money for Liberty bonds, to spend our time in Red Cross service, to do all that our government calls upon us to do. It is hard to believe in God. His voice is drowned in the market-place and in the halls of pleasure. We need another hour and another place where the men who have believed him can tell us their faith, where the poetic souls who have seen him may sing to us their faith, where the symbols that revealed him may touch our imagination, where we may give our souls a chance to believe the best that it is in us to be lieve. With the highest psychological skill at our disposal we must plan the worship of the children, youth, and adults that there may be a social attainment of con fidence in the good God and the good world and the better tomorrow. A notable religious feeling is joy. In primitive religion where divinity was near to men and the immediate cause of all happenings, every common joy had its religious quality. The gladness of awaken ing life in the spring time, the exuberant happi ness of the harvest, the joy of marriage, and the pleasure of a thousand lesser occasions were all expressed with religious ceremony, for the gods were doing well to men. RELIGIOUS EDUCATION 169 Two conditions have robbed modern religion of its joy. Our sense of the order of nature has made the succession of the seasons commonplace. We know the conditions of good crops, the character of the blights, the scales, the insects that spoil our efforts. We garner our harvests with huge machinery instead of with the uniting enterprises of long ago. More over most of us live in the cities, where the change of seasons means principally a change of clothing. So God is gone out of nature. We get much of our joy from our pleasures. Unhappily religion has often separated itself from pleasure, for pleasure is dangerous. Primitive reli gion was not afraid of the allurements of the flesh, but frankly accepted the allurement and after its fashion sanctified it. Ethical religion has been more concerned with inhibitions, so that men have often found their joy not only apart from religion but in spite of it. We do not know much about Jesus pleasures, but we know very much about his joy. The word "happy " was ever on his lips. Everything spoke to him of God the birds, flowers, children, loaves and fishes, marriage, parenthood, and life itself. It is a good world, a glorious world, God s world. Of course it is a terrible world of pain and sorrow and calamity. We do not forget that. But it is a world of richness of life, of abounding health, of beauty, intelligence, truth, goodness, love. Let us not teach mournful songs and prayers to children. Let them sing "Bless the Lord, my 170 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY soul. " Let youth be happy. That is what Browning means in "Pippa Passes. " He is not giving his total philosophy of life in Pippa s song. He knows and no one has told us better how serious life is. But it is good for youth to drink the cup of wholesome joy. On a spring morning, on a holiday, all is right with the world. It is a mood. Our worship needs that note. People should often go from church aglow with the sense of God. It is a great opportunity of worship. We cannot argue people into joy. They shall not feel the thrill of life in God s wonderful world at the end of a syllogism. But they may find it in a solemn service of praise, in the prayers, Scriptures, and messages, that sound forth the ever-present God. If we could help our frivolous pleasure-loving people to appreciate the joy of religious exercises we should do them great service. It is because we are weary, nervous, overburdened, that we turn to the easy amusement of the picture film and of the vaude ville. Paul already suggested to the Christians who wanted the delights of intoxication that they could get ecstatic happiness in what we should call a " Community sing." The "Y" in the army camps at home and abroad found that Paul s substitute for debauchery was very often effective. Have we too much rationalized our religion? Shall we leave to the periods of an often vulgar evangelism the religious festivals of joy? No. We should deliberately educate our people in the abound ing expression of the feeling of gladness. RELIGIOUS EDUCATION 171 If joy is a satisfaction in that which is good, then hope and aspiration may express the feeling that we have as we look forward to that which is to be better. As an expectancy of material betterment this feeling is probably universal in the earlier forms of religion. With the exception of sheer devil worshipers men have always thought that their gods would do some thing for them. "Hope springs eternal in the human breast." It has generally been connected with religion. This is entirely true of the wonderful hope that stretches beyond death to the life hereafter. How deeply men have been moved by that anticipation is written in the exultant chapters of the New Testament and in the major part of our Christian hymnody. Religious hope becomes ethical in a longing for personal character and for social amelioration. Worship has been remarkably successful in stimulat ing aspiration after goodness. How men have longed in the sacred hours and in the sacred places to be holy. The sermon as a part of worship has been more successful in this direction than perhaps in any other. To use the old word, worship has made for sanctification. Great souls have never been satisfied with their little goodness. They have felt that human life was not long enough for the perfecting of the saint. "Oh, but a man s reach must exceed his grasp, or what s a heaven for?" In any reinterpretation of character-making we shall need to keep worship as our great ally. There 172 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY are many other sources of motivation, but prayer, Scripture, sermon, are of incomparable value. There is need of a careful educational process to enable people to secure the best values. But the noblest aspiration is for social good. There is of course a danger of a refined selfishness in the desire that one may be personally sanctified, but the longing for a better world of men is wholly pure. Undoubtedly in this matter knowledge plays a very large part. If we learn the facts concerning our neighbors, especially the harsh facts of the unhappiness of children, the exploitation of youth, of womanhood, of manhood, shameful conditions of housing and of labor, these facts are likely to stir us to hope and determination for something better. But prayer can do it wonderfully. And song. It has long been noted that our hymnody is weak at this point. Nor have the attempts to write social hymns been very successful. Most people who try it succeed only in writing sociological hymns, which is a very different thing. But there are some hymns that stir the soul to longing after a better world. We must practice our people in them. And here is the noblest place of the sermon. I am thinking of the sermon as a part of worship. Not as an argument but as prophecy picture and appeal. Who can read Jesus parable of the Judgment without longing to serve the Master in serving his brethren ? Allied to this feeling of social aspiration is the very significant religious feeling of mission. This RELIGIOUS EDUCATION 173 is probably not a universal religious emotion. It is doubtful if Chemosh sent his worshipers on life- giving errands. But the higher religions have a God who sends men to do good to their fellows. The feeling may express itself in a range of activity from the most partisan propagandism to the most unselfish service. But its motivating energy is of the greatest. The apostles, prophets, missionaries, reformers, ministers, teachers, social-service workers and the finer type of statesmen, a Lincoln, a John Bright, a Gladstone, a Wilson, have this sense of mission. And common folk with simple tasks often have it Sunday-school teachers, fathers and mothers, older brothers and sisters. The sense of mission is often born in the hour of worship. When one sees the vision and hears the Sanctus one also hears the voice, "Whom shall we send?" and answers, "Here am I, send me." Would God that all the Lord s people were proph ets of the new social order. There is not a more glorious opportunity in our modern life than in the service of worship if we can vitalize it and educate our people to its appreciation. The greatest religious feeling is love. When they asked Jesus to sum up the Commandments he stated them as love. How can an emotion be com manded? Can it be our duty to have a certain feeling? It is the common thought that feelings come and go and are inevitable. Affection is one of the most fundamental impulses, but it is very 174 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY capricious. Parental affection is the only one that can be at all depended upon. But even in the primi tive religions affection has a place. Men generally have some affection for their deity. And the develop ment of that affection in depth and in ethical quality is a sure test of religious development. As religion becomes more ethical the love of God extends to love of men. It is the peculiar characteristic of the Bible that it so universally insists that there can be no religion without unselfish human love. The great saints have ever been great lovers. Our world needs love. We have plenty of hate, suspicion, shrewdness, diplomacy. We need love, love between peoples, love between classes of people, love among neighbors, love in schools and families, love in Christian communities, in churches. How shall we be inspired with love ? Worship is a tech nique for arousing love. The imagery, the symbols, the poetry which may stimulate the emotion are all there. "How lovely are thy tabernacles, O Lord of Hosts." "Blest be the tie that binds our hearts in Christian love. " From earliest kindergarten through all our youth and adult worship the glorious note of love should be sounded. I have tried to analyze the religious feeling. There may be more elements than these nine that I have mentioned, but I think these are the important elements. They are not altogether separate. Reli gious feeling has a certain community. The syn thesis of these different feelings is a kind of absorption RELIGIOUS EDUCATION 175 into God, "I and my Father are one," "I delight to do thy will, my Father." This feeling is not only individual; it is socialized and includes men as at least potentially a part of the unity; "All shall know Him from the least even unto the greatest." This feeling of unity with all that seems to be worthy, with the supreme worthiness, with all possible human worthiness, with all the worth of nature, this is religion. To engender this feeling is the purpose of worship. Returning to our definition of worship as any technique that stimulates religious feeling, we are ready to inquire what this technique may be. It cannot be arbitrarily prescribed. As a matter of fact techniques as varied as the Quaker meeting and pontifical mass produce the same results in different persons, sometimes in the same person. It is commonly asserted that there are funda mental differences of temperament which must determine practices of worship. There is supposed to be a ritualistic temperament which inevitably requires a person to be an Episcopalian, a certain buoyancy that can be satisfied with nothing less than Methodism and finds itself very unhappy when Methodism is toned down, a certain soberness of temperament that can only find fitting expression in the Presbyterian order, and a critical chilliness that demands the Congregational forms and, at lower degrees of temperature, seeks the liberal churches. 176 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY Of course this is nonsense. Inasmuch as most people find themselves perfectly satisfied with the church of their parents there would be, if this theory were correct, a hereditary transmission of tempera ment. Moreover, one finds people who are happy in a free and easy religious service, deriving also the greatest satisfaction from the extreme formalism of the Masonic ritual. The supposedly staid Presby terians have been the leaders in the tabernacle evangelism of recent times which, whatever else it may be, can scarcely be designated as staid. And congregations which have been somewhat super ficially reproached for coldness have not seldom been stirred by emotions too profound for noise. There are doubtless temperamental differences. But these do not breed to type on denominational lines. The matter is largely determined by custom and education. The problem of worship is thus an educational one. There is neither divine nor histori cal prescription to determine it. It is wholly a question of ascertaining what techniques will be effective and how the people may be trained to employ them. May I state the problem in a series of proposi tions ? i. The technique of worship for any particular congregation must be congruous with the religious tradition of the worshipers. The stations of the cross are quite natural in the Roman Catholic church, but they would be utterly artificial to ourselves. RELIGIOUS EDUCATION 177 The Quaker silences have the most effective psycho logical appropriateness, but they would be hopelessly negative to most of our congregations. The cere monial of immersion, which is a highly impressive symbolism to those who are accustomed to it, is often positively repulsive to those to whom it seems a meticulous literalism. I was recently in a Memorial Day parade in a small town in Illinois. An occasional citizen sheep ishly took off his hat as the flag was carried past. But most of them could not manage it. Doffing the hat is not part of their social heritage. We cannot then arbitrarily create a worship tech nique. It must be congruous with the religious tra dition of the people. 2. The technique must have the prestige of religious tradition. Symbolisms cannot be created by fiat. If a religious convention should ordain that an airplaine should be introduced into ecclesi astical architecture as a symbol of man s reaching unto heaven, no one would take the regulation seriously. But an angel, a fair youth with arms and legs and wings an impossible human hexapod is a most fitting symbol. Angels belong to our religious tradition. We shall teach our children that they belong in the realm of fancy, but they none the less express our religious feelings. It is easier to destroy than to create. We can impoverish our worship by neglect of the religious elements that the past has preserved for us or by 178 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY rationalistic antagonism to them, but it will be very hard to find anything to take their place. The utter bareness, unpoetic, unimaginative unloveliness of our Sunday-school opening and closing exercises, which very properly are not even called worship, is evidence of the iconoclasm with which we have destroyed that which had the prestige of religious tradition without rinding anything significant to supply its place. 3. We must develop our technique freely with the use of all available elements. All things are ours. We may search all the liturgies for prayers and practices that may be helpful. American congre gations know only one prayer, only one psalm, and they can sing only the Doxology without the book. We come to church to listen to a speech and to a concert, and we have forgotten to be worshipers. It will take the greatest skill and long educational practice to discover from many sources the elements of prayer, song, response, posture, ritual which will evoke for us the feelings that are the deepest meaning of religion. Let me here state an objection even at the risk of digression. It is sometimes said that our fathers who knew the old rituals and rejected them found their fellowship with God immediately. Why should we need what they discarded? There is a psychology of negative suggestion. To a vigorous soul who had seen an unethical and unspiritual religion connected with the elaborate ritual there was evidence of the RELIGIOUS EDUCATION 179 immediate presence of God in the very ugliness and bareness of his meetinghouse. He needed nothing but a long prayer, a long sermon, and an unharmoni- ous psalm to stir his soul to the depths with the sense of the presence of God a sense which he had already brought with him to the meetinghouse. But negative suggestion only operates when there is consciousness of opposition. Benjamin Franklin s homespun was suggestive of republican simplicity amid the fopperies of the French court. But it would be ridiculous to wear homespun today when any gentleman may have an evening coat. 4. The criterion of a technique must be the pos sibility of expressing adequately the religious feel ings of the particular congregation. I say the possibility. The congregation will not know its own possibilities in advance. Let me refer more sympathetically to the Memorial Day parade which I have already mentioned. A class of fifty boys in one of the elementary schools was selected as a guard of honor for the veterans of the G.A.R. The little chaps were dressed in white suits. They had their own marshal mounted on a pony. They lined up and saluted as we drove through with the dignity of young Americans who understood the meaning of that great day. It was a ritual well worth the plan and practice. My friend H. Augustine Smith, of Boston Uni versity, goes into the highways and hedges and brings in the gamins and makes a boys choir, vested, i8o THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY effective, reverential, and teaches them to sing the Elijah choruses. Under his guidance the Congre gational churches find new possibilities of worship of which they never dreamed. 5. The minister must be a master of worship- technique. There s the rub. Our ministers do not know how to preach very well, but they scarcely know how to lead worship at all. It is an art, worthy of the most careful study and of the most painstaking preparation. Shall we say that any man led by the Spirit of God can lead a congregation in worship? Let me suggest a parallel. I am myself greatly stirred by the song "If with all your hearts ye truly seek me." Sometimes it is just the song which I need in my service. I feel its beauty, I appreciate its meaning. 1 think I have a right to say that the Spirit of God inspires me with that song. Then why should not I sing the song for the congregation ? Simply because I cannot sing. I have every qualification of a great singer except vocal ability. One must be a master of song to help a congregation in song; one must be a master of worship to lead a congregation in worship. I assume the spiritual preparation. I am speaking of the technical preparation. The art of public prayer, of the arrangement of a service, of the stimulus of song, of the creation of a mood, of the molding of a congregation into a unity is a consummate art. If some men have possessed it without study that is RELIGIOUS EDUCATION 181 only another example of genius. There is no law for genius. But most of us have to work for our skill. 6. Worship calls for a carefully planned and graded process of education by which, beginning with young childhood, people may be trained to those practices which may be useful as the stimulus and expression of religious emotion. It cannot be done hi a day. Children are little ritualists. As they learn the right decorums and politenesses of life in home and school (if happily they do learn them), so may they learn simple prac tices of worship that may be carried on into mature years with growing appreciation. We must distinguish between instruction in the elements of worship and the actual use of those elements in the worship itself. Everything should be studied and understood hymns, prayers, postures, the ritual of the offering. Much may be committed to memory. The problem of grading in worship is not so difficult as in biblical and other study. Many ele ments of worship are universal. Even little chil dren will have points of contact with them and gain enrichment of experience by sharing them with the general congregation. So we may bring the children back into the church, not for the long prayer (if that is still to be retained), not for the elaborate anthem (if indeed that is still essential), not for the hymns expressive of more mature feeling, and cer tainly not for the sermon, but for half an hour of 182 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY worship with processional, recessional, the Doxology, the Lord s prayer, the General Confession, the General Thanksgiving, the recited Psalm, simple Scripture, offering received with dignified ritual, hymns carefully learned and understood and sung with the fresh enthusiasm of young voices. We can develop a genuine congregational worship. I like to call it in a large sense family worship. The children may retire for educational activities with the sense of faithful and solemn worship in their hearts, and the congregation may remain for the sermon, ready for the ethical impulse which the sense of the presence of God has prepared them to receive. THEODORE GERALD SOARES SOCIAL ETHICS THE EQUIPMENT OF THE MINISTER AS A SOCIAL REFORMER No man with any moral passion in his nature can be indifferent to the problems that now confront society. His special avocation may be what you please literature, art, education, law, the ministry, business, politics but if his sympathies and thoughts carry him beyond self-interest at all, if he shares in any vital and imaginative way in the life of his country and the great world, he is sure to be caught up by the spirit of the time and forced to reflect, if not to speak or write or act, on the problems of human betterment. Carlyle, for example, began his literary life as a translator and interpreter of German literature to the English-speaking people, but the condition of England in the thirties and forties of last century so stirred his heart and imagination that he soon ceased to be a translator and interpreter of other men s works and poured forth his own passionate con victions in his Sartor Resartus and Past and Present. Tolstoi began his life as a soldier and a novelist, but for long years before his death he spent himself in a most solemn quest for the secret of spiritual and social regeneration. John Ruskin was at first an art critic, but when he discovered that art had a 183 184 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY deep root in the moral nature of man, and that no country could produce a noble art whose ideals were basely and selfishly materialistic, he became a per- fervid and uncompromising preacher of national righteousness and a more ethical political economy. William Morris in his earlier life was a poet, "the idle singer of an empty day," as he called himself; but he ended it as a socialist, and a writer of pamphlets and campaign songs for the Socialist party in England. H. Rider Haggard spent many years of his life in writing sensational romances, but the Zeitgeist found him also, and for several years back he has been engaged in the social work of the Salvation Army. And if literature has led earnest, sympathetic, imaginative men and women more and more into the field of "the social problem," the work of the ministry is doing so even to a greater degree. The minister is no longer only a pastor and an inter preter of Scripture. A man cannot minister to the needs of the age, in the big industrial centers at least, unless he can interpret, not merely the books of the great dead, but also the movements of the life of his time. It is well, when possible, that each individual should repeat the experience of the ages in his own development, should come to a knowledge of himself and his times through a knowledge of all the great master minds from Homer to Hegel. But he must not take up his permanent abode anywhere on the way, but push on to the end of the journey. It is well to be able SOCIAL ETHICS 185 to interpret a prophecy of Isaiah, or a dialogue of Plato, or a letter of Saint Paul, or a canto of Dante, or a critique of Kant, but if we are to meet the needs of our time, we must also be able to interpret the meaning of a great miners strike, the human signifi cance of the world-wide movement called Socialism and the social implications of big industry and large cities and the intermingling of races and ideals. A knowledge of the past is essential to an understand ing of the present and the future, but we must use the past, not as a home to live in, but as the foundation of the home that we are in the process of building. We live in an age when the world is thinking seriously and passionately, if confusedly and hurriedly, on the problems of human betterment, and we cannot minister to that age unless we feel its spirit and are working at its problems. We must equip ourselves so as to be able to understand and guide and encourage the great work of reform which has become so urgent in all industrial countries. In discussing my subject, namely, "The equipment of the minister as a social reformer," there is no need to labor the statement that the moral enthusi asm which springs from sympathy, pity, the senti ment of justice, and the social instincts and sentiments generally is not the only equipment the social reformer needs. That is indispensable as a main part of his motive power, but it is no guarantee that he will not repeat experiments that have been tried and found wanting, that he will not try impossible things, or i86 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY that he will not antagonize other forces which, while not exactly working with him, are moving in his direction. As there is a technique at the basis of every art, as there are mathematical and mechanical principles at the basis of all practical engineering skill, as there is a detailed knowledge of anatomy and physiology at the basis of scientific medicine, so there must be some adequate foundation for the work of the social engineer. It is perfectly true that our so-called social sciences have not as yet developed any body of principles that can be compared for accuracy and efficiency with the technique of the arts, or with mechanics, or with anatomy and physiology, but such knowledge as we have should be in the possession of the social reformer, if not in detail, at least in broad, clear outline. Our universal democ racy, of course, tends to obscure this fact. We graduate every young man of twenty-one years of age as a social engineer, but we have known democracy long enough to be aware that its success depends on sane, well-informed, progressive leaders. It ought to be a commonplace in an age which lays such stress on the specialist that zeal alone is not an adequate equipment for the social reformer. What, then, constitutes an adequate equipment? I would lay down as the first requisite a genuinely systematic knowledge of human nature. I do not mean the kind of knowledge which a shrewd business man acquires by watching men and women closely in the world of trade, politics, and society, although SOCIAL ETHICS 187 such knowledge is not to be despised altogether. I mean rather the knowledge which sociology is gradually gathering from biology, psychology, anthro pology, and history, and correlating into its doctrine of the social forces. We must know human nature if we are to better human association, and we cannot know human nature unless we know it in its physical origins, in its mental and social processes, in its racial divisions, and in its most characteristic histori cal manifestations. Again and again in the history of the world, movements for human betterment have signally failed because they were based on inadequate knowledge or complete ignorance of human nature. Puritanism tried to crush the dramatic instinct in Cromwell s time, but only brought about a crude recrudescence of it when the strong arm of Cromwell was removed by death. Communism always goes to pieces on the rock of man s desire for private property, domestic privacy, and personal indepen dence. Monasticism finds its way barred by the sex instinct. Idealism will have it that all peoples are fit for self-government simply because they are human beings, but experiments fail to justify that affirmation. History is strewn with the wrecks of social movements that came to disaster simply because they did not take into account the funda mental facts of human nature. Our first obligation, therefore, as reformers, is to study as profoundly as we can the human nature that we desire to remake, on its subnormal, normal, i88 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY and supernormal levels. We should keep in touch with what the biologists are saying about man s physical antecedents. Man, although on the way to become a spiritual being, has all the fundamental animal instincts, and we must realize how powerful those instincts are and how necessary it is to make provision for their legitimate expression. Hunger, thirst, the sex appetite, the parental instinct, the gregarious instinct, the instinct of self-assertion, the play impulse, the demand for liberty these are older than the individual, older, indeed, than the human race, and wherever society is so organized that they cannot find normal expression, they break forth in disorder and destruction. Animal instinct does not play the star role in human life that it plays in the animal world, but it is still operative, and the social reformer should have the clearest possible idea of its working. The more idealistic we are, the more must we be on our guard against overlooking the great instinctive desires that impel man in his every-day activities. We never can explain man by his animal ancestry, but in trying to improve him we must at least take account of what his physical past has been. We must frankly recognize that many human beings are subnormal, feeble-minded, defective, criminal, and not go on appealing to a conscience which they have not got when we ought to be using our influence to secure institutional care for them and to segregate them so that they shall not be able to reproduce their kind. We must learn from the biologist that SOCIAL ETHICS 189 sex-immorality not only endangers the soul s salvation, in the language of the older evangelicalism, but also threatens the future of the whole human race. We must keep the significance of the bodily side of life so constantly in mind that we shall never forget that bad food, unhygienic tenements, and exhausting toil blunt the sensibilities and ultimately encourage thoughts, sentiments, and deeds that brutalize the soul. The main weapon of the minister as social reformer must always be his appeal to the conscience and intelligence of the people, but, instructed by the biologist, he will always bear in mind that a human being whose instincts are starved or driven under ground or inadequately satisfied is not very likely to be in a mental condition to respond to appeals to his higher nature. Biology can never say the last word about man, but it always says the first word, and the social reformer must know what that first word is. If it is possible to doubt the reformer s need of some knowledge of biology, his need of psychology cannot be questioned. And when I say psychology, I do not mean merely the general analysis of mental processes which we find in an ordinary college text book or even the experimental laboratory psychology which has become so popular in recent years. I mean rather that practical knowledge of the total working of the mind which we find in recent books on social psychology and the psychology of religion and sug gestion, etc. Such books as James s Varieties of Religious Experience, Ribot s Creative Imagination, THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY Sidis The Psychology of Suggestion, Hall s Adolescence, or the works of McDougall, Tarde, Ross, Ellwood, etc., on social psychology are not mere academic text books. They furnish knowledge about and insight into human nature, especially in its social phases, which every public leader of men and women ought to possess. We cannot understand the past and we cannot shape or guide the future unless we know something about the role that imagination, imitation, suggestion, the mob-consciousness, and belief have played and are playing in human life. For example, every spiritual leader stands appalled now and then as he sees the lure that money-making has for the youth of North America. He sees them wild with speculation, turning sharp corners for the sake of gain, working almost with the fury of demons to beat their rivals or to destroy their competition altogether. He sees the wealth of the continent growing at a rate absolutely unprecedented in the history of man. And as he watches the headlong scramble, he is apt at first to say to himself: "What a sordid people we Americans are ! How materialistic and vulgar we seem in comparison (let me say) with the Hindus of India! What culture can ever be developed in a people who can give themselves with such energy to the amassing of mere external wealth! ". But here his psychological insight into human nature comes to his assistance. He asks himself: "Is sordidness, after all, the complete explanation of our economic energy? Is it the mere blind greed SOCIAL ETHICS 191 for things that is our motive power ?" And the answer comes: It is not. The love of activity, the love of self-expression, the love of power, the joy that the imagination has in conceiving great schemes, the challenge to man s will that great opportunities afford, the stimulus of great horizons and wide spaces, the passion for manipulating large masses of people these, as well as the desire of things for the sake of enjoyment, constitute the driving force of our money civilization. A few great men among us have achieved colossal power by means of wealth; their mere word has such an influence in the economic world, either to bless or to curse, that they seem like Providence giving or withholding the rains and the seasons; they have struck the imagination of youth almost like demigods; the newspapers have told the stories of their lives over and over again; imitation and suggestion have been busy among our young people from ocean to ocean and now we have an army of people engaged in the scramble to be millionaires. But it is not all irredeem ably sordid. Once our economic life settles down to a more static condition, once we have cut off some of the sources of ill-gotten wealth, other types will spring up among us, will dominate the imagination of youth, and by imitation and suggestion sway our life toward more ideal ends. Misdirected energy is always more hopeful than a sensuous, luxurious, languorous ease. In some such way as this will psychology help us to understand our common human nature. It 192 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY will teach us by what forces the popular imagination is dominated; it will enable us to understand the role of the hero, the picturesque personality, the revivalist, the crowd, the fad, the craze, the psychical epidemic; and it will teach us by what educational means the mass can be individualized and made to respond to reason and to exercise judgment. Such a psychology cannot be learned by the mere mastery of a textbook or two in college. Its greatest text books are the histories and biographies in which the total working of human nature is revealed on the largest scale. The knowledge of it is the achievement of a lifetime, but the young reformer has at hand today a body of sound psychological knowledge of which the seminary of my day was quite ignorant. When I was a theological student twenty-five years ago, anyone proposing to study economics as a preparation for the ministry would have been frankly regarded as an unspiritual person. It did not occur to us then that many ethical problems would sooner or later inevitably lead us into the economic field. But many things before the war, and especially the war and all its consequences, have made it clear that the minister can no longer afford to be ignorant of the major facts and theories of the economic life. As the prophet of the brotherhood of man and the herald of good-will, he cannot be deaf to the controversy which already has gone far to divide humanity into two warring classes. We are in the midst of a struggle between property and labor SOCIAL ETHICS 193 which may be prolonged far into the future and which concerns itself at almost every point with questions of right and wrong. To such a struggle the minister simply cannot remain indifferent, and unless he is capable of forming independent judgments, he is likely to be betrayed by his prejudice or his sym pathies into positions which may make his service to the whole community impossible. His main task is to hold the community together, to interpret people to each other, and to create that atmosphere of good-will without which scarcely any worthy and permanent reform can be effected. Now, if he is to perform this task adequately, he must master the leading principles of the science of economics. Each party to the struggle has its own kind of economic theory, but, in the very nature of the case, neither party is likely to see things in a large, liberal way. The thinking of men who act in the spirit of class is mob-thinking. Men believe what their class interest dictates. As in the time of war, they believe what helps the cause. Disbelievers, whatever reasons they may give for their disbelief, are branded as heretics. The upholders of the existing order stress the need of capital and ever more capital, the value of the service of the organizer, the justice of paying a man what his services are worth, the social demand for large production, but pass lightly over the iniquity of stock-watering, stock-gambling, monopoly, inadequately taxed inheri tance, and all the other devices by which wealth 194 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY accumulates in the hands of those who do not pro duce it. On the other hand, the labor organization develops an economics that suits its purpose. It makes a gospel of the economics of Marx and estab lishes colleges to teach this dogma as churches teach theirs. It is all alive to the contribution of labor, but undervalues or overlooks entirely the contribu tion of the organizer and the capitalist. Labor has through past ages been an oppressed class and is now seeking deliverance, and its theoretical thinking is inevitably hurried, partisan, uncritical, and passionate. Now, even though the minister should never touch on an economic subject in the pulpit, he ought to know economics profoundly enough to be able to use his influence toward a fair and impartial discussion of economics in his community. His policy must be one of mastering his prejudices so as to be able to listen to both sides. He must listen to the masses, for they know best, through the constant pressure of fact on their lives, where our present system of pro duction and distribution is weak and unfair. He must listen to the masters of industry, for they know best how vast our present economic system is, how intricate are its mechanisms, how dependent society is on its harmonious working, and how well considered must be the reforms which shall rid us of its evils without involving all society in chaos and disaster. When men think as a class, they never think straight, whether they are rich or poor; and the minister who belongs to no class but to all classes ought to be SOCIAL ETHICS 195 trained so that he shall be able to keep a clear head in the turmoil of his generation and use his influence with his friends and acquaintances I do not say in the interests of mere moderation and toleration, but in the interests of fair, just, impartial consideration of the economic problems in which so many of our modern questions of right and wrong arise. The preacher who knows nothing of Marshall or Gide or Taussig or Ely or Hobson or Seager, in other words, who has not yet discovered how many of our moral problems have an economic root, may minister in many personal ways to his congregation, but can have very little part in the public discussion of the most agitating and peace-destroying problems of his community. He cannot clarify or stabilize the think ing of those about him, for he does not think for himself, but picks up his opinions, if he has any, from the class toward which his sympathies are naturally drawn. On the other hand, if he forms his own judgments and tries to be the friend of all classes, rather than the advocate of one, he is apt to draw upon himself the fire of both warring parties on those occasions when passions are violently aroused and so he must be firmly grounded in the reasons for his judgments if he is to stand for the larger view and maintain the idea of justice and liberality against the tyranny of mob -opinion. The most essential part of the equipment of the minister as social reformer is still to be mentioned. His special contribution must always be his clear, 1 96 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY forcible, and persuasive presentation of the Christian world- view. A religious reverence for human nature is the great driving power of the only betterment of the human lot that has ultimate moral significance I mean the betterment that makes not merely for more food, clothing, shelter, and amusements, but rather for more opportunity for the higher life of the mind and spirit. In all the institutions where the poor, the helpless, the deficient, and the wicked are cared for the hospitals, asylums, reformatories it has been found that the officials who have no religious reverence for human nature, or nothing corresponding to it, are apt to do their work in a purely mechanical way, and often descend to down right cruelty and brutality. Look upon man as a mere animal who by some happy accident has learned to talk and invent tools and machines, and so has gained the mastery over all other animals and physical nature; look upon his lust, drunkenness, laziness, and wickedness as natural instincts of which he has no reason to feel ashamed; look upon human life as a mere continuance of the animal struggle for existence and as getting all its significance from its present instinctive satisfactions ; take the purely naturalistic, hedonistic, non-religious view of human nature and you cut the most vital nerve of all the most genuine social reform. All you have left is the class struggle and the fury of the have-nots to get possession of the property of those who have. On the other hand, if you see in man a spirit in the making; if you construe SOCIAL ETHICS 197 his lust, drunkenness and wickedness as perversions of natural instincts by means of that very imaginative reason which might have raised him into a splendid manhood; if, in spite of his history with its wars, murders, and carnivals of corruption, you see through all his long evolution the struggling into life of a divine spirit; if you see in his art and religion and science and philosophy and literature and in his self-sentiment and his self-sacrifice the evidences of a divine descent and the promise of an immortal destiny then you will feel a certain sacredness, even in the lowest men and women; at the sight of perverted instincts you will be filled not so much with loathing and hatred (as the person of merely aesthetic culture is), but rather with a sorrowful pity; and you will hope for man s future even when the present is dark and threatening, so sure will you be that no evil, physical or moral, can absolutely prevent the onward march of the moral order. If religious reverence for man s nature dies out, how can we generate the energy by which reforms can be initiated and carried into execution? The transformation of society is an arduous, up-hill process; and no energy is dynamic enough to carry it on decade after decade, in the face of so many tragic failures, except some such reverence for human nature as I have suggested or as Carlyle expresses in that wonderful old book Sartor Resartus. Carlyle cries: To the eye of vulgar logic, what is man ? An omnivorous biped that wears breeches. To the eye of pure reason, what is 198 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY he? A soul, a spirit, and a divine apparition. Round his mysterious Me, there lies under all these wool-rags a garment of flesh (or of senses) contextured in the loom of Heaven; whereby he is revealed to his like and dwells with them in union and division; and sees and fashions for himself a universe, with azure, starry spaces and long thousands of years. Deep hidden is he under that strange garment; amid sounds and colors and forms, as it were, swathed in, and inextricably over-shrouded; yet it is sky- woven and worthy of a God. Stands he not thereby in the center of immensities, in the con flux of eternities? He feels; power has been given him to know, to believe; nay, does not the spirit of love, free in its celestial primeval brightness, even here, though but for mo ments, look through ? Well said Saint Chrysostom, with his lips of gold, "The true Shekinah is man": where else is the God s presence manifested not to our eyes only, but to our hearts, as in our fellow-men ? My friends, is it not our chief task as ministers and reformers to preserve or rather to awaken again into vivid life some such religious reverence for human nature as finds utterance in these famous words? The world is just beginning to recover from a war in which human nature has revealed itself, no doubt, now and then, in acts of the sub- limest heroism, but more obviously in acts of passion, hatred, cruelty, and greed which have shaken to its very foundation our old moral and religious idealism. Nothing is more needed now among millions of suffer ing people whose lot it has been to see human nature at its worst than faith in the power of the human spirit to shake itself free from its horrible memories and live again in the light of its visions and ideals. SOCIAL ETHICS 199 And so I end by saying again that the chief task of the minister as a social reformer is to awaken in the minds of the people a religious reverence for human nature, and the chief task of the theological school as the institution which trains men and women for the ministry is, through its biblical criticism and its church history and its theology and its sociology and its philosophy and all its systematic studies, to awaken in the minds of its students a vivid, imagina tive, soul-quickening realization of the Christian world-view and a vision of the righteous social order which such a world- view naturally engenders. ROBERT JAMES HUTCHEON PRESIDENT S ADDRESS THE MODERN MINISTER: HIS TRAINING AND HIS TASK We have been listening during the last three days to a series of papers on some of the elements which enter into the training of the modern minister. We have now come to the closing session of our formal celebration; and before we separate I wish, in the presence of a more considerable company of the alumni of this School than has gathered in Meadville for many years, to take a final bird s-eye glance at the various disciplines concerning which representative scholars have been speaking, and to ask the bearing of these disciplines upon the purpose for which the School was founded and the task that is still before it. The object for which the School was founded was the training of ministers for the Unitarian churches of the West. It is for the graduates of the School in the pews before me, and for the churches which they have served, rather than for us who are teaching here, to testify whether that task has been performed well or ill. For the test of the vocational school is not the learning of its professors but the achievements of its alumni. At our Fiftieth Anniversary a promi nent part in the celebration was taken by men who had known the School from the beginning. There 200 PRESIDENTS ADDRESS 201 are, unhappily, not with us at this time those who can tell us from personal knowledge about the earliest beginnings of the School. If one who had been present when the institution was founded had slumbered like Rip Van Winkle for the intervening seventy-five years and were to inspect its curriculum today, he would, notwithstanding the lapse of time, find himself on familiar ground. We are still engaged in interpreting the Old Testament and the New, and in teaching the Greek and the Hebrew languages in which those testaments were written. We are still teaching church history, systematic theology, the construction of sermons, and the duties of the pastorate; and a casual inspection of our curriculum would indicate that these subjects constitute the major portion of our present task. We still sing some, at least, of the same hymns which were sung in 1844, we meet daily for common prayer to the same God who was worshiped then, and we still use in our classrooms the same Bible that was used by the young Frederick Huidekoper and the young Rufus Stebbins when they began together, in the year 1844, to expound the contents of this book. Though those of us who are now teaching are con siderably older, on the whole, than the teachers of that early date, we still retain something of the enthusiasm of youth and still believe in the capacity of religion to remake the world. And yet we are living in a different world today from the world of 1844, and the changes which have 202 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY been going on outside have had their counterpart in the curriculum of the School. For three things have happened, since the School was founded, of such significance that they have changed for all time the thought, the life, and the spiritual outlook of the world. The thought of the world was transformed by Darwin s Origin of Species. The life of the world has been profoundly affected by the vast social and industrial upheaval resulting from the application of newly invented machinery to industry and transportation; and the end of this upheaval is not yet. And finally, the spiritual outlook of the world has been changed by the world- war. An institution like our own which could pass through these epoch-making changes in mental and moral outlook and not be affected by them would show itself singularly insensitive to the times in which it lives. It was inevitable, of course, that the Darwinian theory, even if it did not abolish any of the theologi cal disciplines, should have a profound effect upon theological teaching. It created an atmosphere favor able to the acceptance of the conclusions of the higher critics of the Old Testament, even though the beginnings of the higher criticism antedated Darwin. Indirectly, if not directly, Darwinism has revolutionized the teaching of history; and there are few theological schools in which it has not profoundly affected the teaching of doctrinal theology. It is difficult for us of the present generation to realize the violence and bitterness of the controversy of PRESIDENTS ADDRESS 203 which the work of Darwin was the cause. It was impossible that the accepted account of the origin of the race and the beginnings of religion should be overthrown without something in the nature of a panic in the religious institutions which had adjusted their teaching to this accepted account. But the panic subsided, and for more than half a century the necessary adjustments to the new situation have been under way. One of the necessary adjustments is the introduction into the theological curriculum of such subjects as the history of religion and religious education subjects which seventy-five years ago had no part in ministerial training. The social changes of the last seventy-five years following upon the industrial revolution have been in some ways more significant than the acceptance of the Darwinian theory, for they have affected primarily the world s life rather than the world s thought. Our present industrial system had reached its climax during the years immediately preceding the founding of this School. That system was based upon the assumption that the highest welfare of the community was attainable by the unrestricted pursuit of economic self-interest; or, in other words, of material posses sions. The result of the unrestricted pursuit of self-interest has become increasingly familiar to all. It has concentrated the wealth of the world in the hands of a few, helped to keep a considerable portion of the population of industrial centers below the poverty line, created a sense of antagonism between 204 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY capital and labor, and aggravated a class consciousness which has already assumed ominous proportions. It has reached its highest point in Bolshevist Russia and is ominous of danger in the most highly civilized countries of the world. The proposition that the highest happiness of all can be attained through the pursuit of economic self-interest was challenged in ringing words within the first decade after the found ing of this School by England s greatest preacher of the nineteenth century, Frederick Robertson. He said, Brethren, that which is built upon economic self-interest cannot stand. The system of personal self-interest must be shattered to atoms. Therefore we who have observed the ways of God in the past are waiting in quiet but awful expectation until he shall confound this system as he has confounded those which have gone before. And it may be effected by convulsions more terrible and bloody than the world has yet seen. While we are talking of peace and of the progress of civilization, there is heard in the distance the noise of armies gathering rank on rank; east and west, north and south, are rolling toward us the crashing thunders of universal war. The challenge of Frederick Robertson has been repeated with increasing frequency by other Christian preachers who have realized that the unrestricted pursuit of materialistic self-interest strikes at the very root of the gospel of Christ. Very slowly, but yet surely, has the church been coming to realize the futility of the effort to Christianize a few souls here and there unless society can be Christianized at the same time. It has come to see that the life of the PRESIDENT S ADDRESS 205 family must be Christianized as well as the life of the individual, and that the life of the family cannot be Christianized until economic conditions can be created which make decent family life possible. We may hardly expect, however eloquent may be the sermons which we preach, to create the Kingdom of God out of men and women whose childhood has been stunted by child labor. It is, of course, as true today as it was true seventy-five years ago, that society cannot be saved en masse and that a Christian society presupposes individual Christians. But it has become increasingly clear at the same time that the church has a mission to society as well as to the individual, and that in so far as the church is failing to recognize that mission it is losing its hold upon that portion of the community which it can least afford to do without. We live in the age of the social problem. Its watchword is social solidarity. The church that has no social gospel has no message to this time. The seminary which has failed to adjust its curriculum to this outstanding fact is not living in the present century. I take satisfaction in calling to mind the fact that the Meadville Theological School was one of the first of the seminaries to intro duce the study of social ethics. We are as yet too near the events of the world- war to give a final estimate of its influence upon religion and the institutions of religion. But this much, at least, is sure, that men who thought before the war in national terms are now thinking and speaking in 206 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY international terms. It is true that the United States has not yet joined the League of Nations. But it is also true that the recognition of world- solidarity which the deliberations of Paris involved, went beyond the fondest dreams of any group of practical statesmen before the war. The ends of the world have been brought together as they were never brought together before. The movement for Christianizing the world that had been going on in previous years, has received such an impetus that millions of dollars are being offered for the purpose where thousands were offered before, and the cry of need in the farthest part of the world has met with such a response as at no other time in history. World- projects are in the air today as community projects were in the air yesterday. It seems almost a foregone conclusion that denominational competition on the mission field will come speedily to an end. The World Church Movement has been planned on a scale previously unheard of. So disillusioned have the nations of the world become as to the possibility of a satisfactory settlement of national disputes by war that it seems unthinkable that humanity shall witness again such an unspeakable calamity as the one through which we have lately passed. It is scarcely to be expected, perhaps not even to be desired, that national differences shall be eradi cated as a result of the new international outlook; or that religious differences which have in the past kept the nations apart shall be forthwith removed. PRESIDENTS ADDRESS 207 It is reasonable, however, to expect that men will learn in religion as well as in business that co-operation is better than competition and that love is better than hate. As the apocalyptic hope of a redeemed Israel burst forth most radiantly when Israel sat by the waters of Babylon amid the ashes of her former hopes, so at the present day in the midst of the hideous aftermath of war are the nations of the earth struggling to the acceptance of the declaration of the apostle, that God hath made of one blood all nations of men to dwell on the face of the earth. If this declaration of the apostle represents a fact and not a fancy it may prove to be the one fact for which the world has been groaning and travailing in pain together until now. It may even prove to be a fact of such transcendent importance that the blood and treasure which have been poured out like water in the last six years have not been utterly wasted. For it seems to point to the time, if that time is not already here, when the church as well as the state will embody in its organized life the prin ciple of human kinship, when the discordant notes of our competing sects shall blend in a great harmony, and when men of divers races and creeds who love righteousness and are seeking to promote the Kingdom of God shall again become members of one holy Catholic church, visible and invisible, the supreme object of which is the incarnation of the will of God in human institutions and human lives. It is, of course, inconceivable that institutions which have 208 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY as their aim the training of ministers should be unaffected by the emergence of a new world-attitude such as this. It goes without saying that it should give a new impulse in every theological school to the study of missions and should compel the creating of departments of missions in schools where they do not now exist. It has stimulated the exchange of theo logical professors between institutions separated by 3,000 miles of ocean. It has shown the triviality of sectarian distinctions in the face of the work of world-reconstruction which is waiting to be done. Before the world- war the ministerial training schools of the different denominations were much nearer together than the denominations themselves; for scholarship knows no sectarian limitations. And these schools are immeasurably nearer together than they were before the war. Lest I be accused, however, of special pleading and of idealizing the kind of institution in whose name we have been meeting, let me say that I am painfully aware that theological schools have their defects as well as their virtues. I have stated that a super ficial examination of the curriculum of this School would disclose an amazing resemblance to the curricu lum of seventy-five years ago. And the teaching of the seminary of seventy-five years ago was based upon a conception of divine revelation so much narrower than the conception which obtains today that it may fairly be said to have been outgrown. The curriculum, therefore, of many a seminary of PRESIDENTS ADDRESS 209 our time is a survival from the past rather than a response to the needs of the present. For what is the material studied in the average seminary, even in our own time? Is it not in the first place the Greek and the Hebrew text of the Bible, presuppos ing years of wrestling with grammars and lexicons ? And is it not in the second place the story of the lives of the popes and the reformers and the history of the historic controversies over issues which were once debated with passion and even with violence, but which have a very far-away sound at the present time ? And is there not in the third place a vast variety of subsidiary material growing out of these three departments, in Semitic languages and exegesis and the curious bypaths of religious history and doctrine, of interest to the intellectually curious but without much relation to the great purpose which impels men to become ministers of religion? For it often proves more diverting to a certain type of theologian to investigate religion as a phenomenon than to help to set it to work to move the hearts, to quicken the consciences, and to redeem the souls of men. Suppose, however, a student is not diverted by such mistreatment from his chosen calling but steps from the seminary into the church. And suppose he tries to avail himself in his preaching or in his pastoral work of the kind of knowledge which has been poured in upon him. Is he not bound to make the tragic discovery that a very large portion of this 210 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY knowledge is absolutely devoid of interest to the people among whom he has come? As a matter of fact, that is exactly the kind of discovery that has been made by hundreds of ministers of our time. At the end of three or four years of faithful study at a seminary, they discover that the people are not interested -in the things which they have brought with them from the seminary. And to their intense chagrin they often find that men who have had no theological education at all are preferred before them. It is not without significance that such men as Joseph Parker, Robert Collyer, Edward Everett Hale, and Thomas R. Slicer received their ministerial training, not in the seminary but in the school of practical experience. And the list of similarly successful self-made ministers might be indefinitely pro longed. The reason for the partial failure of the seminary is the vagueness and indefiniteness of the thing it has been trying to do. Once there was a fixed and definite line which separated the secular from the sacred, and it was held that ministerial training was concerned with the latter but not with the former. That line at the present time simply does not exist. There is no longer any sacred history, or sacred literature, or sacred philosophy, or sacred rhetoric. The modern minister needs to know human hearts and interpret human needs. His field is not primarily the Bible or church history, but the human soul. As the physician needs to know the body, so does the PRESIDENT S ADDRESS 2 1 1 minister need to know the mind of man. No minis ter in our time is equipped for his work without a knowledge of religious psychology and religious education. The training of the physician has been much more definite, concrete, and effective than the training of the minister. The medical school has not been guilty of anything like the waste of time of which the divinity school has been guilty. From start to finish the medical teacher has been seeking to make physi cians out of his pupils. Many a theological professor, even in our own time, has not the slightest concern as to whether he shall produce a preacher and a pastor. His concern, on the contrary, is his particular specialty; and the colossal tragedy of theological teaching is that if a man is willing to do so he may teach so absorbingly interesting a subject as the Old or the New Testament or the history of the Christian church as if it had nothing whatever to do with the preaching of the gospel or the salvation of a human soul. Three years ago there came a call from France to America for two different kinds of men products of these two different kinds of schools and in response to that call the divinity school sent forth chaplains and the medical school sent forth surgeons. Which of these two types of men had been best equipped by the institution which sent them out for their peculiar task? Or, to put the question in another way, which of these two types of men could most easily have dispensed with his vocational 212 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY training? I am led to believe that the American chaplains as well as the American surgeons did a work in France of which America may well be proud. But I am compelled to harbor the suspicion that less credit belongs for this work to the school of theology than to the school of medicine. It is much for the seminary to learn that its primary task is not the promotion of theological knowledge or the correction of theological error or the perpetuation of ecclesiastical forms, however desirable these may be, but the training of students so to preach, so to pray, so to bring comfort to souls in distress and hope to souls in despair, so to inspire society with the religious ideal, so to make clear the religious import of con temporary movements, and so to make men conscious of a great religious inheritance, that the institutions they serve shall become an integral part of the Kingdom of God and the people to whom they minister shall become more fully conscious that they are children of God. I have spoken of new theo logical disciplines which have made their appearance since this School was founded. They have all been ably defended and need no further defense from me. But I would not seem to speak lightly of those other disciplines which have held their place in this School from its founding, and which will hold an honored place in the future. Biblical and historical study will continue to hold their own, not because the world any longer believes in an infallible book or an infallible church, but because the Bible was written PRESIDENT S ADDRESS 213 from the point of view of men who believed from the bottom of their hearts in the overbrooding love of God, and the history of the church is the history of an institution composed of men and women who were conscious of this love and were seeking to make it a power in human life. The individual as well as the church is rooted in the past. The minister who would rally his fellow-men to the service of God will speak with tenfold power if he is able to show them the mighty things which God has done in days gone by. The one thing that matters very much to an institution like this is the human soul. But all subjects will be of primary interest to it which depict the possibilities of the human soul when it is set on fire with the consciousness of God. I have been freer to speak of the defects of theo logical training because I believe that they are temporary and that they are destined to disappear in the face of a fuller acceptance of the Darwinian hypothesis, the new sense of human solidarity, and the broader world-outlook of our time. These causes have all contributed to a greater defmiteness, a firmer sense of reality, and a broader catholicity in the work of ministerial training. The seminaries of America have in recent years gained in large measure this definiteness and concreteness by drafting into their service those sister-institutions of learning in which science, literature, philosophy, economics, art, music, and other subjects of study which tend to broaden and deepen human life, have found their 214 THEOLOGICAL STUDY TODAY natural home. About the great universities of our country are grouped in increasing measure vocational schools of every kind. It is as futile to seek to divorce theological study from the university as to seek to divorce the study of chemistry from the laboratory. It has been of inestimable advantage to those seminaries which have been compelled to do their work in isolation from university centers, to be granted, as this School has been granted, the privileges of the university for at least a portion of the year. For five years this institution has reaped the advantage of affiliation for a quarter of the school year with the University of Chicago. That privilege is now to be extended to four quarters for those of our students whose collegiate training has been lacking or incomplete. And it means that the possibility of raising the standard of the School for which its friends have been hoping for lo! these many years, has finally come. Of all the gifts which might have been desired with which to help the rounding out of our seventy-five years, this is the best. I have spoken of the minister s training and the minister s task. I should have liked to speak, had time permitted, of the ministers opportunity; for I believe in that opportunity, in the face of the work of reconciliation that awaits the Christian church, as I have never believed before. The demonstration of the greatness of that opportunity, however, has been and will continue to be an affair, not of words, but of deeds. It has been given for many years by PRESIDENTS ADDRESS 215 those who have received their training here and have carried the results of that training to the world outside. It is the proud privilege of the School today to set the seal of its approval upon the work of some of these. FRANKLIN CHESTER SOUTHWORTH 78980