Christus in Ecclesia: Sermons on the Church and Its Institutions

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CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

THE UNIVERSITIES OF EUROPE IN THE MIDDLE
AGES, 1895.

DOCTRINE AND DEVELOPMENT, 1898.

NEW COLLEGE, in "COLLEGE HISTORIES" SERIES.
With R. S. Rait. 1901.

THE ULTIMATE BASIS OF THEISM, in CONTENTIO
VERITATIS. By Six Oxford Tutors. 1902.

PERSONALITY HUMAN AND DIVINE, in PERSONAL
IDEALISM. Kditctl by II. C. Stirt. 1902.

CHRISTUS

IN

ECCLESI A

jftrototts oit tfct
ODiptrrfr *nb its Institution*

BY

HASTINGS J^ASHDALL, D.Litt., D.C.L.

FELLOW AND TUTOR OP NEW COLLEGE, OXFORD
PREACHER AT LINCOLN'S INN, 1899-1903

EDINBURGH
T. & T. CLARK, 38 GEORGE STREET

1904

Printed by

MORRISON AND OIBB LIMITED,
YOR

T. & T. CLARK, EDINBURGH.

LONDON : SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, HAMILTON, KENT, AND CO. LIMITED.
NEW YORK : CHARLES SCRIBNER'S 80N8.

t

K
i

j

TO

MY MOTHER

PREFACE

rilHE sermons comprised in the present volume were
-■- preached for the most part in the Chapel of
Lincoln's Inn in the course of the five years during
which I held the office of Preacher to that Society.
Some of them have also been delivered in various
Parish churches or College chapels. The volume may
be considered to some extent a supplement to, or
continuation of, the volume entitled Doctrine and
Development ; but in sermons limited to some five and
twenty minutes it has not been possible to aim at the
comparative fulness of treatment which is allowable
in a University pulpit, and the theological questions
dealt with are for the most part of a less fundamental
order. Their object is to explain in a rational manner
what has sometimes been called the institutional side
of Christianity. There is a widely spread assumption
— sometimes made by its friends, more often by its
critics and opponents — that liberal Theology necessarily
leads to a negligent or disrespectful attitude towards
all external expressions of the religious life, if not to
the religious life itself, at least on its devotional side.

vii

viii PREFACE

That it sometimes has that effect is unfortunately
undeniable : that this tendency is neither logically
nor practically inevitable, I have endeavoured in these
sermons to make plain. Aa I read over the pages,
the obviousness of much in them makes me doubt
whether they can be worth publication ; but experi-
ence shows that even highly educated persons, who
have little leisure for such reading, do welcome very
simple statements or restatements of Christian doctrine.
Much that is in itself reasonable, and even obviously
reasonable, has come to seem otherwise by long
association with what is false or doubtful or unin-
telligible, and the mere statement of old truths without
what has hitherto been associated with them, presents
itself as something more or less novel. Even to dis-
cover that another has thought what one thinks oneself
is often a help to greater clearness and definitene&s of
religious belief. Many are now engaged in the task
of theological reconstruction, but I do not know of any
book, with which I should be in general sympathy,
covering exactly the ground of the present work.
And, after all, the main justification of sermons,
whether published or unpublished, is the fact that
preaching is intended to remind people of what is
rarely denied but often forgotten.

I have given in the sermons themselves, and in the
few notes which I have appended to them, as much
historical statement as seemed necessary to explain
the nature and meaning of the institution with
which I was dealing. I have endeavoured to take

PREFACE ix

account of all new light on the various subjects
dealt with, to avoid uncritical assumptions, and (in
doubtful critical questions) to indicate the possibility
of more than one opinion, though I have not thought
it necessary at every turn to refer to critical doubts or
difficulties which I do not myself feel, or which seemed
to me unimportant for the purpose in hand. I need
hardly say that I have not the slightest idea of adding
anything to what is already known on such matters.
The book is not intended for professional scholars.
Though it deals to some extent with theoretical and
controversial questions, its purpose is mainly practical.
It aims at explaining some of the institutions, ideas,
and practices of the Christian Church to educated men
and women, with a view of rendering participation in
its services and ordinances more possible, more intel-
ligent, and more reverent, and with the ultimate
purpose of helping on growth in the Christian life.
I have to acknowledge valuable help in looking
over the first proofs from my friend the Rev. W. C.
Allen, Fellow and Sub-Hector of Exeter College, and
to thank my sister for the pains which she has
bestowed upon the final revise.

H. RASHDALL.

CONTENTS

PAGR

I. The Oxford Movement 1

II. The Idea of the Church 17

III. The Holy Eucharist 31

IV. Baptism 51

V. Infant Baptism 65

VI. Grace 79

VII. Priesthood 91

VIII. Apostolical Succession 107

IX. The Social Mission of the Church 125

X. The Matter of Prayer 139

XI. The Manner of Prayer 153

XII. Intercessory Prayer 165

XIII. Thanksgiving 179

XIV. Penitence and Penitential Seasons . . 191
XV. The Origin of Sunday 203

XVI. The Observance of Sunday .... 217
XVII. Revelation and the Bible . .231

XVIII. The Old Testament 245

XIX. The New Testament 259

xi

XX. Maron

XXF. Tsk Bzusk>-* Ctiucm «r the State
XXII. CsracH ati> State

XXIII. The Cbcech »sa the Cbtkches

XXIV. The Bioid Cbckh Pact
XXV. LlBEmim \.ro pBj.mcii Parr

I.

THE OXFORD MOVEMENT.

" The kingdom of God cometh not with observation. Neither
shall they say, Lo here ! or lo there ! for, l>ehold, the kingdom
of God is within you " — or (margin of Revised Version) " in the
midst of you."— Luke xvii. 20, 21.

I.

THE OXFORD MOVEMENT.

THE Kingdom of God often advances most rapidly
— that is to say, human society is often advanc-
ing most rapidly toward its divine ideal — when the
sound of religious controversy is least heard in the
streets. But still, one way in which at times the coming
of the Kingdom is as it were tangibly felt, is in the
occurrence of what we call great religious movements.

At the present moment, 1 when the public mind is
a good deal excited by a reaction against the
extremer developments of the Oxford movement, we
are in some danger of underestimating the work that
it has done. It will not therefore, I trust, be out
of place if I endeavour on this and the following
Sundays to insist upon some of the permanent gains
which have resulted to the Church through the
movement inaugurated by Newman and Pusey sixty
years ago. Afterwards, I hope to deal with some of
the deficiencies of that movement, and with the
expansion or correction which its teaching demands.

Now, the first point that I should like to insist
upon is that the movement was, above all things, a

1 The sermon was preached in 1899.

3

4 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

religious movement. Whatever we may think of its
distinctive theological tenets, we must not forget that
It was coloured, of course, by the intellectual, the
political, the social idiosyncrasies of its leaders, and
of the environment in which they moved. But
primarily it was a moral and spiritual movement ; and
the greatest gain that it has brought with it has been
simply a deepening and quickening of religious life
which has extended far beyond the limits of the
High Church party, or even of the Church of
England. It was a deliberate attempt to think out
and to act out what seemed to its authors the real
meaning of Christ's teaching in its bearing upon
personal and social life. Their interpretation of
Christ's teaching may have sometimes been narrow and
defective, both intellectually and spiritually, — too
much marred by traditionalism, too little influenced
by the critical and historical temper to reproduce the
true spirit of that teaching, — but we must not allow
ourselves to be prevented by irritation at these
limitations, and ( the present results of these
limitations, from doing full justice to this deepest
and most important side of the movement.

A striking instance of its spiritual success is to be
found in the change which it produced not so much
upon the average tone of undergraduate life (for it
affected the many but little), but upon the more
thoughtful and intellectual undergraduate circles at the
time. John Henry Newman as an undergraduate at
Trinity seems to have found himself almost alone

THE OXFORD MOVEMENT 5

(though one must, no doubt, make some allowance
for his youthful Puritanism) among a set of men
almost uninfluenced by religious ideas or aspirations.
Some five and twenty years later, we find in the life
of Edward Freeman, a Scholar of Newman's College,
an account of its condition in his time. He insists
upon the religious principle, the intellectual earnest-
ness, the severity, nay, asceticism of life, which
characterised not some little coterie of Pietists, but at
least the whole Scholars' set in that college. The
testimony of a contemporary begins with the words,
"Beligion was recognised by all as having a right
to the dominant control over our acts, words, and
thoughts." *

I could wish that any form of definite Christian
thought had the same hold over the minds of the
abler young men at the present day as the Oxford
movement exercised on so many in the thirties and
the forties. And this influence on Oxford is just
typical of its influence over cultivated English society
in general The Oxford movement is commonly thought
of as a clerical movement (naturally most religious
movements begin among the clergy). But if in England
we are quite familiar with the spectacle of laymen, —
eminent lawyers or statesmen, for instance, — full of
interest in theological questions, taking a prominent
part in ecclesiastical affairs, punctiliously attentive to
the external duties of religion, and habitually guiding
every act of their public and private life by deliberate

1 Stephens, Life end Letters 0/ Edward A. Freeman, I. p. 46.

6 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

reference to Christian principle, — if we are familiar
with all this in England, while in many countries
religion is apt be regarded as an affair of priests
and theologians, of d&vots and d&votes, it is very largely
to the Oxford movement that this aspect of English
society is due.

It is true that in all this the Oxford leaders were
but carrying on the work of their predecessors,
the Evangelicals. The High Church movement was
the direct outcome of the Evangelical movement. To
a very large extent its real service has been just to
emancipate the Evangelical movement from some of
its limitations. Although by the time of the Oxford
movement, Evangelicalism, at least in its milder form,
had begun to be not altogether unfashionable in
sections of society, its influence on highly educated
people was always diminished by its intellectual
narrowness. That its austerity was unpopular with
men of the world is not to its discredit. But it was
too much disposed to attack certain arbitrarily selected
and in themselves innocent amusements, while it was
not particularly severe upon luxury and worldliness in
their solemn, decorous, middle-aged and middle-class
manifestations. Its theology, in its more rigid repre-
sentatives, was narrow, arbitrary, and repellent;
in its milder exponents, vague, emotional, and un-
historical. All intellectual pursuits not distinctly
religious, all human learning, even theological learning
which went beyond a purely homiletic exegesis of
Scripture, it was apt to scorn as savouring of

THE OXFORD MOVEMENT 7

worldliness and carnal pride. It was much en-
slaved to a particular phraseology, which was harsh
and unlovely in those to whom it meant much,
conventional and irritating in those to whom it
meant little. To the best representatives of the older
Evangelicalism no doubt these criticisms were often
quite inapplicable, as they are still more inapplicable
to the best of their spiritual descendants in our own
day. But every party has to suffer from the
exaggerations of its smaller men. And these were
the characteristic defects of the party to which,
nevertheless, is mainly due the revival of a sluggish
Church and a decaying Christianity in the second
half of the eighteenth century. As a consequence of
these limitations, Evangelicalism never had very much
influence over the academic mind — least of all at
Oxford, or over the intellectual classes elsewhere. It
had indeed, through the instrumentality of Charles
Simeon, effected a marvellous transformation in the
moral tone of Cambridge, but it cannot be said to
have dominated the intellectual life of that University.
No important name in literature can be associated with
it since the death of Cowper. It can scarcely be said
to have produced a considerable theologian or scholar
until it assumed a form which could hardly be called
Evangelicalism at all in the party sense of the
word. 1

Now, from all these defects the Oxford movement
rescued the great religious revival of the age that is

1 1 refer to such men as Henry Alford, Dean of Canterbury.

8 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

just passing away. The intellectual horizon of the
early Oxford leaders may have been narrow, bat it was
wider than that of their predecessors. They ceased to
talk or think as if Christianity, after a few generations
of comparative but rapidly decaying purity, bad
passed into a state of complete lethargy, from which
it was only awakened at the Reformation. The
leaders of tbe movement were learned men. Their
faith rested upon something like a philosophy ; they
had at all events read Aristotle and Bishop Butler.
They were men of high culture and much refinement,
who revolted against the set phrases, the aggressive
tone, the spiritual self-assertion by which Evangelical
piety had sometimes been vulgarised. Intensely
possessed with the paramount claims of religion,
convinced of its right to penetrate and dominate all
departments of life, they had more sense of proportion
than the typical Evangelical ; they saw that social
life might be pervaded by the Christian spirit without
allowing conversation to degenerate into the " dropping
fire of serious remarks " so amusingly caricatured by
Newman's account of the Evangelical tea-party in Loss
and Gain. The result of the change was seen in the
ascendancy which the Oxford movement exercised —
sometimes only for a passing moment, sometimes through-
out life — over nearly all tbe men of high intellectual
and moral purpose who passed through Oxford at the
time when the movement was at its height And more
important even than the difference of intellectual tone
between the Evangelical movement and the High Church

THE OXFORD MOVEMENT 9

movement was the contrast presented by their ethical
temper. In the mouth of the typical Evangelical
the word " Morality " was seldom unqualified by the
disparaging epithet " mere." Newman, on the other
hand, has told us that his whole religious belief was
founded upon the existence of Conscience. That
Conscience requires training, discipline, enlightenment,
by the influences which proceed from Christ and His
Church, — by religious belief, by a carefully cultivated
religious emotion, by religious worship, — nobody
ever appreciated better than Newman and his school.
But in the best of Newman's followers we get rid
of the attempt to erect a hard and fast line of
demarcation between the moral life and the spiritual
or religious life. Religion is exhibited as an intensely
practical thing, a mode of life, a state of the will, and
not merely or primarily as a sharply defined set of
emotions labelled with the highly technical terms of
experimental Theology. One result of the new tone
is seen in the much greater success of the High Church
teaching in its dealings with the young. In the
sterner Evangelical homes (happily many Evangel-
ical homes were not stern) religion was apt to be
associated with long and dreary devotions, phrases
which if unrealised were meaningless, and if
realised were conducive to acute religious terror, and,
above all, with a gloomy and joyless Sunday. A
religion that tends to divide people sharply and baldly
into saints and sinners is not a religion which gets the
best out of average children or young people. The

io CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

Tractarian view of the Church as a school of
Christian life allowed — as in history at large, so in
individual souls — for the idea of a gradual spiritual
education, growth, development.

Up to a certain point the work of Newman tended
in the same direction as the work of Arnold. 1 The
seriousness, the earnest search after religious truth,
the effort to apply Christian principles to every de-
partment of political, social, and personal life, which
was characteristic of Newman's young disciples at
Oxford, was to be found also in Arnold's Rugby
pupils. But for various reasons — some of them
arising out of the nature of things, some of them, as
we are disposed to say, mere accidents — the Arnold
movement did not exercise a profound influence over
the parochial clergy, while the public schools owe
the Christian character which on the whole they still
retain almost entirely to Broad Church influences, and
were scarcely touched by the Tractarian phase of
thought. 2 To this day the influence of Arnold is
strong among lay and clerical schoolmasters, as that
of Newman is among the parochial clergy.

But if the movement was an intensely religious
and practical movement, why (it may be asked) is it
so much associated in the popular mind with externals,
— with altars, candles, vestments, postures, music, and

1 See the testimony of the late W. G. Ward, William George Ward
and the Oxford Movement, by Wilfrid Ward, pp. 72, 73.

* A respectful mention ought, however, to be made of the work of
Bishop Charles Wordsworth, who got the Winchester Scholars publicly
to say their prayers — for the first time, perhaps, for centuries.

THE OXFORD MOVEMENT n

the like ? In answering this question we must dis-
tinguish between the principle and any particular
application of the principle. The whole history, not
only of the Christian Church but of all religions,
shows us that religion cannot live without external
expression. Every great religious movement has been
closely associated with certain external observances —
either newly invented or adapted from some foreign
source, or revived and emphasised after a period of
disuse or perfunctory performance. That is true
even of such largely negative movements as the
Reformation, whose main business was to destroy the
symbols which had degenerated into idols, and to
abolish the practices which had passed into super-
stitions fatal to spiritual Ufa For the extempore
prayers and the psalm-singing and the long sermons
of the Puritans were after all external manifestations
of religion and not religion itself — more rational,
perhaps, more necessary, more closely connected with
the reality which they symbolised, than crosses and
stained-glass windows and the like, but symbols still.
And then, as the movement advanced, there very soon •
grew up quite a ritual which consisted in the avoid- ■
ance of rituaL The Puritan was at times almost as»
superstitiously bent on worshipping in an ugly
building as the medieval ecclesiastic was possessed
with a superstitious belief in the value of a beautiful
one. Some of the Puritans were even disposed to
insist upon the black Geneva gown, associated in their
mind with all that they held dear in the pattern

i j CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

Church of Protestantism, as zealously as the Papist
upon his chasuble and Laud upon those " four sur-
plices at AU-hallowtide " at which Thomas Carlyle was
never tired of sneering. Every religious movement
has been more or less associated with some form of
outward observanca Partly, no doubt, the emphasis
laid on them has been due to the limitations, the
idiosyncrasies, the accidental associations of the men
or the time which has given them birth, but only in
part. It is a fundamental and eternal fact of human
nature that spiritual realities may and must be
taught through sensible media of some kind.
Different races, different stages of culture, different
individuals may be dependent in different degrees
upon signs and symbols ; and too much symbolism is

But without some external signs or symbols it is
scarcely possible that religion should have its proper
influence on thought, act, affection, and (not least im-
portant) imagination, even as patriotism is an idea
which could hardly be grasped by large masses of
men without the aid of the national flag. Other
signs and symbols may have their value in this
direction — in the way of constantly reminding
us of those ideas of God, of Christ, of duty, of im-
mortality which we are so constantly in danger of
forgetting ; but by far the most important of these
is worship.

One of the great services of the Oxford movement
(by general admission) has been the revival among

THE OXFORD MOVEMENT 13

us of the idea of worship, or rather perhaps the
association of that idea with what is fair and beauti-
ful and attractive instead of with everything that
is ugly, tasteless, and slovenly. It has done for us
much that Bishop Butler called out for in that almost
despairing charge of his to the clergy of Durham in
that deadest moment of the eighteenth century, — the
year 1751 (a charge by the way which exposed him to
grave accusations of Popery), — when he insisted that
" external acts of piety and devotion, and the frequent
returns of them, are necessary to keep up a sense of
religion which the affairs of the world will otherwise
wear out of men's hearts." If we want to realise the
service which was done by the Oxford movement, we
should compare for a moment the state of our own
Churches with those of Protestant Germany. There
the churches are largely deserted by the cultivated
classes, not because the preachers are not learned and
able, not because the educated classes have deliberately
become atheistic, but because services are so dull and
unattractive that people have ceased to be interested
in them. Religion may survive as it were in the
background of consciousness, but it has passed out of
men's minds as an effective, ever-present control and
inspiration, — I will add, as an ever-present joy and
refreshment. In his deeply interesting book on " the
Church and the Churches" the great Old Catholic
theologian Dollinger, long before his breach with the
Vatican, attempted a sort of comparative survey of
Protestantism and Romanism as he saw them in the

14 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

middle of the century. He is full of acknowledg-
ments to Protestantism. He recognised that political
liberty, intellectual vitality, industrial energy — all that
was best in German literature, in German thought,
even in German theology — was Protestant. But on
the religious side he pronounces Protestantism a
failure ; his desire, consequently, is for a sort of fusion
of Catholic religion with Protestant thought At the
present moment, when the Protestants of France are
by their zeal for justice showing themselves the salt
of their nation, while priests have been hounding the
nation on to deeds of shame. I will not for a moment
allow myself to echo the fashionable disparagement of
continental Protestantism. But if instead of religion
ho had said worship, or the devotional side of religion.
Ikillinger — I think it must he admitted — would have
hail much to say for his view of the matter. From
some of the defects of continental Protestantism we
have no doubt been saved by the lieauty of our
Prayer- Bouk services, and by those traditions of stately
Church and seemly worship which e\eu the eighteenth
century could not entirely destroy. Hut it can
hardly be denied that they were fast disappearing
when the Oxford movement came to save us from
chunrhwardentsm in architecture. Tate and Brady in
psalmody, and. generally speaking, from the lethargy
of sheer dulncsm. However strongly we may dtalikeor
condemn many of the |«trt;cuUr developments of the
movement, this improvement of worship must be set
dowu as the tint great gain of the Oxford mo vmw nt,

THE OXFORD MOVEMENT 15

— a gain, of course, which has been largely shared by
all parties in the Church of England, and even by
the most Protestant religious bodies around us.

Of the deeper ideas of that movement I hope to
speak hereafter, and also of its limitations. But
before I leave this subject of worship, let me ask
for a moment whether this very simple and obvious
lesson — the importance of external religion — is one
of which we do not need reminding. At first sight
such a reminder might appear superfluous: and
no doubt there are many — nay, it may be, large
classes — with whom it is precisely the opposite
principle that needs enforcing. Inside the churches,
no doubt the tendency is towards more and more
elaborate services, if not towards the exaggerations
and absurdities of Romanising ritualism. But if we
look a little deeper, I do not think we shall find
that an overestimate of external religion is really the
danger of most of us. In some ways, indeed, it is
to be feared that the ideas of the movement have
acted in an exactly opposite direction to what was
intended. There are people in whom the insistence
upon Holy Communion has produced almost a con-
tempt for other services — especially for sermons.
Old-fashioned religious habits have been weakened, —
habits such as Bible-reading, family prayers, reasonable
Sunday observance, — while no new religious habits have
taken their place. The great religious peril of the
present day seems to me not an aggressive infidelity, not
active irreligion, not even indifference of the ostentati-

16 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

ous and self-satisfied kind, but rather the danger that
religion should be crowded out of life — out of
education, out of home life, out of the Sunday, out of
the ordinary studies of cultivated men and women, out
of our daily and habitual thoughts — simply by the
pressure of other occupations and interests, assisted, it
may be, in some measure by intellectual perplexity and
by revolt against the pettiness and wearisomeness of
ecclesiastical controversy. If we want to resist this
tendency of our age, we must make a personal stand
against it, each of us in the regulation of his own
time and habits. If we do not want Christianity to dis-
appear from our private thoughts and inmost motives,
its external manifestations must not disappear from
our lives. There is, of course, one of these external
manifestations which is the most important of all,
and happily it is the one about which there exists the
least dispute. I have no time to dwell upon it, but I
cannot leave the subject of external religion without
just alluding to it. The habit of private prayer, in so
far as it expresses itself in words, is no doubt in one
sense a symbol still (language itself is a symbol of
thought) ; but, like language in general, it is a symbol
which is so intimately connected with the reality
which it symbolises, that the one can hardly exist
without the other. Without the daily consecration
of the life to God in thoughtful and earnest prayer,
there can hardly be that effort to bring the life into
conformity with the will of God in which religion
essentially consists.

II.

THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH.

1 \ ■ i :\ \ I ■*•» ■!.■■■ •.. \\ l !'•• • \* i »•■ '.ail \ :n \ **n r«i'h.

H

II.

THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH.

IT is coming to be more and more generally admitted
by theologians of widely different views in other
matters, 1 that these words t (if we assume them to be
the unaltered record of what fell from the Master's
lips) must have been addressed originally not to the
chosen Twelve, not to any special order of ministry
either at the time or in after times, but to the whole
Christian Church, to the whole of that great society
of which Christ is the Head and all Christians are
members. It is the same with all the great minis-
terial commissions of the Gospels. If you look
through them, you will, I think, find that it is quite
arbitrary and gratuitous to assume that only the
Twelve, or any privileged inner circle of the Christian
body, were present when they were uttered. These

1 Among others by Bishop Westcott.

3 The fact that these words are found only in the first Gospel makes
it uncertain whether they formed part of the common source used by
the first and third evangelists, and so throws some doubt upon their
being an actual utterance of Christ. All that is said below will be
equally true if we take the words as illustrative of the Church's idea
about itself as it gradually shaped itself, under the inspiration of the
Master's teaching, in the consciousness of the first Christians. I can-
not myself doubt that the passage has undergone some development.

19

20 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

words of our text were spoken to "the disciples."
We have no more right to confine these injunctions
to the Apostles or to the clergy of after ages, than we
have to suppose that the preceding exhortations not
to offend Christ's little ones, or to cut off the offend-
ing member, were binding only upon the Twelve or
upon the clergy. It is important, too, to notice the
immediate context. In the preceding verse our Lord
has been enjoining His disciples to bring their quarrels
to be decided by the Church or Ecclesia. The word
Ecclesia or Church is the Greek equivalent for the
Hebrew word which is in our version of the Old
Testament translated " Congregation " — the whole
people of Israel. Our Lord conceives of His followers,
then, as succeeding to the position once claimed for
the Jews alone as the chosen people, — the people
privileged to enjoy the knowledge of Jehovah, and in
covenant relation with Him. Indeed, it is probable
that the original saying of our Lord (if we assume the
injunction to have really come from Him) referred
immediately to the little self-governing society which
at this time met for worship in each local synagogue,
and formed a kind of forum domesticnm for the
settlement of disputes among its members. At all
events, in our application of the words we must refer
them to the local Christian Churches, which, by
a process of spontaneous development, succeeded to
the synagogue societies among the Jews. It is to
the whole Christian society or to its local branch
that this tremendous power of binding and loosing

THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH 21

must be understood to be committed. If any doubt
remains on this point, it ought to be removed by the
next two verses; of which the first contains the
promise of an answer to the faithful prayer of two or
three, and the second the still more catholic promise
that "where two or three are gathered together in
My name, there am I in the midst of them/' 1

The words of our text must, then, be regarded as
the foundation-charter of the whole Christian Church,
not as a patent of nobility for the Christian clergy.
That is the first point that it is necessary to be clear
about if we would understand the passage aright.
And the second is this — to observe that the words
are, " Whatsoever ye shall bind," not " whomsoever ye
shall bind." The whole context implies, no doubt,
that the judgment upon acts would involve a
judgment upon persons, and elsewhere the saying is
repeated in the form, " whomsoever ye shall bind." 2
But we shall best get at the true meaning of the
saying by thinking first of its application to acts.
To bind an act, in the language of the Jewish Rabbis,
meant to make it unlawful, to condemn the doing of
it ; to loose it meant to pronounce it lawful, to sanc-
tion the doing of it. Primarily the words relate to
the condemning or allowing of actions, not to the
condemnation or acquittal of persons. It is a power
of fixing the moral ideal that is here intrusted to the

1 The same doubt as to the accuracy of the record must extend to
these words also.
9 John zx. 23.

32 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

Christian society, Baying in detail what things are
condemned and what are allowed by the new law
which Christ had given His disciples, but which He
left it to them to apply to the changing needs and
circumstances of successive ages.

In a sense every human society has a share in this
tremendous power of binding and loosing. Every
society, every school, every college, every club, every
class, every profession, does bind some things and
loose others. The moral ideal that is actually
operative among any group of men is very largely
determined for them by these judgments of their
society, by these social bindings and loosings, and by
the social penalties — amounting in the last resort to
social excommunication — by which these judgments
are backed up. Now it was part of Christ's plan that
His followers too should have their own peculiar law
of life which should be of paramount authority among
its members, and which the whole body should assert
and enforce by the social sanction which every society
has at its command — only with this momentous
difference, that the rulings of the Christian society as
to matters of right and wrong, and the consequent
judgments upon particular persons by which they
would naturally be followed, — these judgments of the
Christian society were to be valid not for time only
but for eternity. " Whatsoever — whomsoever — ye
shall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven."
What then are we to make of this tremendous
declaration ? Everyone knows the appalling history

THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH 23

of the abuses which have attended the exercise of this
power of binding and loosing in the actual history of
Christendom — the degradation of this high pre-
rogative of applying and enforcing the Christian ideal
of life upon a voluntary society of willing believers
into the mere engine of priestly ambition or of
political warfare, into a mere instrument of inquisi-
torial police, or, finally, into a mere process for
enforcing the payment of costs in testamentary or
matrimonial causes. Are we to suppose, it may be
asked, that every sentence of every fourth century
episcopal controversialist upon his theological
opponents, every fulmination of a medieval ecclesi-
astic bent on the extortion of fees or tithes, every
formal excommunication extracted out of an eighteenth
century chancellor by perjury or chicane, — are we to
suppose that such bindings and loosings are ratified
in heaven ? Or, if we turn from the sentences on
persons to the judgments upon acts, are we to suppose
that the standard of morality enforced by the ecclesi-
astical courts of any age or Church can be taken as
infallible revelations of the Christian ideal ? Have
there not been periods in which the actual Church
organisation has repeatedly, systematically, almost
universally, called good evil and evil good — found
soft names for oppression and cruelty and injustice,
and treated as crimes toleration and charity and
social justice ? And if we disallow these claims by
saying that the councils who made the laws and the
prelates who passed the sentences were not the whole

24 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

of that society to whom these powers were committed
by its Founder, can we deny that there have very
often been times when such perversions of the
Christian ideal and such misapplications of it to
individuals carried with them the fullest assent of the
great mass of the laity ? There is but one way that
I know of of reconciling this great text with the teach-
ing of reason and conscience, or with the whole spirit
and substance of Christ's teaching. We must recog-
nise distinctly that it was only to the ideal Church —
to the Church as it ought to be — that these high
promises were made and these great prerogatives
intrusted. They represent to us what Christ in-
tended that the society of His followers should be and
do. Only in so far as they have really carried out
their Master's design and lived up to their Master's
principles can any actual society of men claim as their
own these mighty privileges. Just in so far as any
actual Church has fallen short of her Master's ideal,
has bound things which the Master's spirit would
have loosed, and loosed things that her Master's spirit
would have bound, — so far her bindings and loosings
have ceased to be the bindings and loosings of a
Church of God at all, and have become merely the
private slander of this or that worldly prelate, this or
that council of angry ecclesiastics, this or that mob
of unchristian men falsely pretending to be the
Church of the living God.

If this be the true interpretation of our text, we
are in a position to appreciate at once the value of

THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH 25

what is called the Oxford movement in recalling to
men's minds the true idea of the Christian Church,
and the limitations by which its view of the
Church was sometimes narrowed and distorted. This
idea of the Church is surely a most essential part
of Christianity. In the Gospel pages (if we read
them without prejudice) we shall find, I think, no
trace of any fixed type of ecclesiastical organisation,
of any hierarchic caste, of any definite order or orders
of the ministry ; l but it is difficult to get rid of the
idea that the Master did conceive of His followers as
forming already, and destined to form hereafter, a
society in which His teaching should be practised,
taught, and handed down. The germ of the Church
idea, though no doubt only a germ, may be discovered
in His teaching. And observe the purposes for which
this society was to exist. That its members were to
have a common belief in God, in His teaching about
God, and in Himself as the Messiah or Son of God, is,
of course, assumed. That they would have a common
worship, that in their meetings for worship they
would practise the two simple rites which He had
bequeathed to them, is also assumed. That would
flow naturally, spontaneously, irresistibly, from the
acceptance of the idea of man's relation to God, to
Christ, and to his brother man. But we shall have a
totally inadequate conception of the Christian idea of

1 For proof of this assertion, see Hort, The Christian Ecelesia. As
to the later apostolic age, Dr. Hort appears to me slightly to under-
estimate the amount of discipline and organisation existing in the
Christian society.

26 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

the Church so long as we think of it primarily as a
society of men united by belief in certain doctrines
or by the practice of certain rites. As conceived by
its Founder, and as it actually existed in the first ages
of its life, the Church was marked off from the rest
of the world above all things by its devotion to a
particular and distinctive ideal of conduct. " People
of the Way " appears to have been the earliest desig-
nation of the Christian Church. 1 The essence of '
Christ's teaching was that men should treat God as
their Father and one another as brothers. The
Church was the society of people who were willing to
live according to this rule. They were bound, no
doubt, in a sense to regard the rest of the world as
brothers too, but that was because all men were
potential members of their society; its actual
members were those who were willing to treat one
another as brothers, who recognised the reciprocal
rights and duties of brotherhood. You cannot in the
fullest sense of the word treat anyone as a brother
against his will. Brotherhood in its fullest sense
implies reciprocity.

The idea of the Christian society is, then, an essen-
tial and imperishable element in Christian theology
and Christian ethics. I need not now insist on the
grandeur of this conception, or the woeful way in
which the Church or the Churches of any and every
particular time and place have fallen short of this
high ideal ; or, again, on the enormous and beneficent

^ctsix. 2(R.V.).

THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH 27

influence which even in its lowest decay and corrup-
tion this idea has exercised and still exercises upon
the minds of men. And this influence will appear
greatest if we bear in mind that its primary function
is moral. At this day there are countries in which
the visible organised Church commands little enough
respect for her doctrinal formulae, and (still more
unhappily) little attendance at her formal worship.
But the ideal which commands the secret, if sometimes
the bashful and shame-faced, allegiance of all that is
best in the modern world is still substantially the
ideal which the historic Church of Christ has gradually
created by her continuous action of binding and loosing
on the basis of the few great principles bequeathed to
it by the Founder. Imperfectly, alas ! but still far
more than any other visible organisation, the Christian
Church has been and is what it was intended to be by
its Founder, the external conscience of the world.

If it is true that the Church is an ideal, then it
follows that all societies of Christians are Churches
just in so far as they live up to that ideal in their
corporate and social life. We cannot say " this one
body is the Church and all the rest are mere sects."
It does not follow, of course, that the Church idea is
equally well realised and embodied by all sects, or that
it is of no importance which Christian body a man
belongs to. No Church fully realises the true ideal
of a Church, but undoubtedly some are nearer to it
than others. There may be more or less of the
Church character in any particular organisation.

a8 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

One body may be more of a Church than another, but
wherever two or three are gathered together in Christ's
riame, there is a body which can claim some part in
the authority and in the promises bequeathed by
Christ to the society of His followers. A society of
two or three is a very poor and imperfect realisation
of the true Church idea, but every such society is in
its degree a Church and a part of the Church. Every
Beet, just because it is a sect, must miss something
of the true Church character. We may insist, if we
like, upon the importance and value of this or that
characteristic of the true Church ideal — we may even
(if we think history warrants us in doing so) claim
that the ideal Church should have a ministry organised
and sacraments administered in a particular manner
— but we cannot say definitely this body is the Church
and those are merely sects. No doubt the ideal of
the Church is to be one, or at least to be mode up
of local bodies mutually recognising one another's
existence and supporting each other's discipline.
But then, if unity is a note of the true Church,
division takes off something from the true Church
character in the body that is left as well as in those
who leave the main Christian society of their day
and country. To put all this in a practical way —
we need not doubt that for us here and now in
England the best and fullest realisation of the
Church idea is the Church of England, and that we
shall best promote unity by belonging to it. But we
need not unchurch either individual dissenters or the

THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH 29

societies which they form, still less the national
Churches of other countries organised in a different
manner from our own. " Wherever two or three are
gathered together in My name, there am I in the
midst of them." The essential note of the true
Church, as St. Augustine has said in one of his more
liberal moments, is "fraterna caritas" — "brotherly
charity " realised in a human society : the essence of
real schism lies in the want of it. 1 '

The idea of a Church at its highest is the idea of an
organised community for transforming human society
into its divine ideal — for turning society at large into
a brotherhood of men serving one another in the way 1
that Christ enjoined upon His disciples. The visible 1
religious community for the promotion of worship and
religious fellowship and voluntary works of charity is
the most conspicuous, the most complete, in a sense
the highest outward and visible realisation of that idea ;
but it is not and cannot be the only one. But in so
far as any society of men is engaged in striving
together for the objects which Christ enjoined upon
His followers to pursue, it becomes a partial realisation

1 The narrowness and the breadth of Augustine's views are curiously
brought together in the same passage : " Hreretici de Deo falsa senti-
endo ipe&m fidem violant; schism a tici autem discessionibus iniquis
a fraterna oharitate dissiliunt, quamvis ea credant quae credimus.
Quapropter nee hseretici pertinent ad Ecclesiam Catholicam, quae
diligit Deum; nee schismatici, quoniam diligit prozimum," De
Fide et Symbolo, cap. xxi. The early schisms had been formed chiefly
to maintain a policy of excessive rigour towards the lapsed, — a point
which it would be well to remember before applying patristic language
about schism to modern nonconformity.

30 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

of the Church idea. If we are Christians, the service
of the body of Christ must demand not a portion of
our lives, but the whole of them. All our work,
professional, official, literary, or whatever it is, must
be looked upon as work done for the body of Christ.
All true service of our fellow-men is capable of being
made into work for Christ's Church, if it is inspired
by the Christian spirit of mutual love. And the
highest importance of a firm grasp upon the idea of
the visible Church lies in its tendency to break down
that hard and fast division of life into two watertight
compartments, — a secular life, of which the object is
simply the enrichment and advancement of ourselves
and our families; and a religious life, the object of
which is to send us to heaven when we die. Under-
stood in its true sense, the idea of the Church is the
sum of Christian ethics. No doubt the core of that
idea has often been firmly grasped and nobly lived out
by men who attached little importance to any visible
ecclesiastical organisation in the ordinary sense of the
word. This principle of mutual service lies at the root
of all morality and all noble life. But this principle
requires surely some outward and visible expression
in a distinct and visible organisation if it is to
exercise its due weight and influence over human
life. The true idea of the Church is that it should
be the most conspicuous realisation and embodiment,
the most powerful witness and promoter, of that
principle of brotherhood in human society.

III.

THE HOLY EUCHARIST.

SI

"Tiirfl JrMl» **:>\ ■ill".. l)»««ll. Yi nil". TcriW. I si* 'llltii t«u.
Kirrj*( \r f 4l l)u- flrih "f tin- >■•»! ■ ■? man. 40 1 'W:fik *-.t 'I ■■<
JTf bftlr n<» lifr in vm.' J i hi n vi "».l

tt

III.

THE HOLY EUCHARIST.

TT is perfectly natural that Christians should be
-*- predisposed to see in these words an allusion to
the sacrament which so exactly sums up the idea
which they express. And yet it is impossible, surely,
to doubt that the original meaning of the words (in
so far as they are really based upon our Lord's own
teaching) * can have had no direct reference to that
sacrament. The words must surely have meant
something, must have been intended to mean some-
thing, to the disciples then and there quite independ-

1 It is admitted by all scholarly defenders of the Johannine author-
ship of the Fourth Gospel, that the discourses contained in it must
represent a highly idealised account of the Master's teaching, and it is
being more and more recognised by candid opponents of its genuineness
that it is at least based to some extent upon valuable documents, and
is not a mere work of the imagination.

The larger we suppose the contribution of the author to have been, —
whether St. John or some inheritor of the Johannine tradition, — the
more probable it becomes that the discourse is to Home extent suggested
by the Eucharistic symbolism, but all the more remarkable becomes
the interpretation of the words put into our Lord's mouth by the
Evangelist as a witness to the spiritual and non-realistic belief of the
Church in his day about the Eucharistic sacrament. It is clear from
ver. 63 that if the words in ver. 68, in the intention of the Evangelist,
contained an allusion to the Eucharist, they were not meant to be
simply applied to the Eucharist itself, but rather to what was
symbolised by the Eucharist

3

34 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

ently of a rite which was not yet instituted. And,
in truth, we are not left to any doubtful conjecture
as to what the Master meant by these words. They
are expressly explained by His reply (a few verses
later) to the disciples' remark upon the hardness of
the saying. " The words that I have spoken unto
you are spirit, and are life."

" The words that I liave Mpoken unto you." To feed
upon Christ's body and Christ's blood means to absorb
His teaching into the soul, to assimilate it, to live by it.
— as the liodily life is sustained by the meat and drink
which is alworbed into the system. We are right in
thinking of Christ as much more than a teacher. But
our anxiety to differentiate Christ from other teochen
sometimes leads us to forget that primarily He pew-
senbnl Himself to His contemporaries in that light —
as that highest, intwt inspired kind of teacher whom
we call a prophet. Even where He is most emphatic-
ally asserting a unique and )*raznouut claim to the
allegiance of His followers, it may be of the whole
human race, it is — you will observe. I think, if yon
study the (napels cl<»ely — primarily the paramount
claim of His teaching that He u asserting. It was
His consciousness that that teaching of His- -those
idea* about God and man's relation to Him - -came
from Hu heavenly Fattier, and that they (nasesaed a
unique and enduring %alue for the world, it was
this consciousness that enabled Him (if we may
reverently say *») to combine such commanding
self assertion with such complete forgetfalneas of

THE HOLY EUCHARIST 35

self. And it is the answering recognition, by the
conscience of mankind, of the supreme and unique
value of that teaching that more than aught else
compels us to a reverent acceptance of His claim to a
unique Divine Sonship, which does no doubt carry
with it a loyalty to His person going far beyond mere
discipleship. But that should not make us forget
that all higher claims of Christ are founded on His
claims as a teacher. Loyalty to Christ means pri-
marily believing Christ's words, attending to them,?
doing them. Feeding on Christ's body and His blood;
means living upon His words.

And that idea of living upon Christ's word s is just
Ijfre very root-idea of tfre Holy Com munion. That is
the idea — or at least one of the ideas — which it was
meant to teach us. 1 That we desire to live by those

1 In what sense our Lord can be said to have Himself " instituted "
this sacrament, is one of the most difficult critical questions which the
Gospel narratives present to us. It is quite clear, in view of the dis-
crepancies between the words attributed to Him in the different
Evangelists, that we cannot implicitly rely upon the exact accuracy
of any one account. The tradition has grown — it is impossible to say
how much. But we may reasonably assume : (1) That the Eucharist
was based upon some existing Jewish rite, and continued in its
Christian form to have many of the associations and meanings which
that rite involved, to be celebrated with many of the old forms,
and perhaps the old prayers. It has generally been supposed that
this rite was the Passover feast, but Mr. Box (Journal of Theological
Studies, vol. iii. p. 357) has brought forward much evidence to sup-
port the view that the original Lord's Supper was the Kiddush, — the
common meal celebrated with solemn blessing of the bread and the cup
by a Jewish household at the beginning of the Sabbath on Friday
evening, and also on the eves of the great Feasts, — a view which is
strongly suggested by the parallelism between this rite, with its
accompanying prayers, and the early account of the Eucharist in
The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles. (2) That a new and specifically

\

36 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

words is the first thing that we mean by coming to
it. St. John or (if it be so) some disciple of St. John
could hardly have put together that wonderful dis-
course from his recollections of the Master's teaching
without thinking of the last Supper which He ate
with them. But it is a mistake of interpretation (as
has been seen by nearly all the early Fathers and many
later Eomanists) to treat the saying as having in the
intention of the speaker any reference to the institu-
tion of the Eucharistic meal. The sacrament is a
commentary on the teaching rather than the teaching
a commentary upon the sacrament. 1

Christian significance was given to this rite in the very earliest days
of the Christian Church. The universal acceptance of the Eucharistic
rite from the earliest times in both Jewish and Gentile Churches,
makes it reasonable to accept the tradition that this new significance,
connecting the rite with our Lord's death and parting injunctions
to His disciples, dates from some act and words of His during the
meal which He shared with them on the night before the Crucifixion.
(3) While the obligation of this rite upon Christians is certainly
heightened by the probable truth of this tradition, its value cannot
be said to depend upon it. It would be enough for us that i t was a
rite instituted in memory of their Blaster in the first days" q j[ H is
Church. "The discrepancies between the Evangelists prevent our
raising any great fabric of doctrine upon the assumption that we have
before us the exact words which He used, and can recall the exact
context in which He used them.

1 For patristic opinions on the subject, see Waterland's Review of
the Doctrine of the Eucharist as laid down in Scripture and Antiquity
(Works, ed. Van Mildert, 1823, vol. vi.), and Jeremy Taylor, Of the
Real Pretence of Christ in the Holy Sacrament (Works, ed. Heber,
1839, vols. ix. and x.), chap. vi. In view of such a consensus, I am
somewhat surprised at the confidence with which the Bishop of
Worcester, in his scholarly and moderate work (Gore, The Body of
Christ, p. 21 sq., p. 290 sq.) explains "the words which I have spoken
unto you" {f^futra) as meaning "the things I have just spoken to
you of— the flesh and blood of the glorified Son of Man."

THE HOLY EUCHARIST 37

It is, I think, quite as important to a right under-
standing of the Holy Eucharist itself as it is to a right
understanding of the chapter, that we should appreci-
ate the true relation between the sacrament and the
idea. This chapter tells us what the sacrament
means : it is about the reality which the sacrament
signifies ; we shall miss that meaning altogether if we
read it as though it referred to the sign, an d not to

I tried in a previous sermon to insist upon the
services of the Oxford movement in the revival of the
idea of Worship, and the improvement of its outward
expression in our own Church. And a very im-
portant part of this service consists in having restored
the Communion rite to its proper place in the affec-
tions, the imaginations, and the practical religious life
of Christian people, not by any means exclusively in
our own Communion ; though it is right to add that
this part of their work too had really been begun
by many of the Evangelicals. 1 But here, as in dealing

1 The suggestion that the Evangelicals made little of the Eucharist
has often been made, e.g. by the late Mr. H. O. Wakeman in his
Introduction to the Miatory of the Church of England, 3rd ed., p.
451. "The Holy Eucharist, deprived of all idea of worship, and
celebrated but seldom," suggests that an Evangelical did not and
does not worship in Holy Communion, surely the ne plus ultra of
theological prejudice ! As to the frequency of the reception, it was
distinctly the object of the early Evangelicals to promote more
frequent celebrations than had hitherto been customary, though
they may often have been content with the substitution of a monthly
for a quarterly Communion ; but weekly celebrations in Evangelical
Churches were not unknown even early in the forties, when they were
(I believe) far from universal among professed High Churchmen.

38 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

with other phases of the movement, we must d istin-
Lish carefully between the idea and the dogma-

between the fundamental ideas which inspired all that
was best in the movement and which have given it
its spiritual success, and the narrow and inadequate
intellectual or dogmatic expression which those ideas
often formed for themselves in the minds and writings
of the Oxford leaders. They were right in insisting
that the Holy Eucharist ought to be the central act
of Christian Worship, that it is the act round which the
whole outward and visible life of the Christian com-
munity ought as it were to range itself. They were
right in insisting on the practical value which the
. habit of regular and frequent communion has for
individual souls. But to my mind a truer apprecia-
tion of the value, meaning, and importance of that
■sacrament has no necessary connection with what are
'called " high " or " Catholic " theories as to its nature.
The essence of the sacramental principle is that ideas
are brought home to men's minds by outward forms.
And the ideas which are most dependent upon out-
ward and visible expression are just those ideas which
bind men together in societies. Obviously there could
be no such thing as a religious society which had no
meetings or institutions by means of which its members
could realise their distinctness from the rest of the
world, their own union and common purpose. And
yet it was one of the most distinctive ideas of our
Master that Religion is a spiritual thing not dependent
upon any external observances, and therefore He left

THE HOLY EUCHARIST 39

to His society (we may say) the barest minimum of
external rites, the minimum without which a religious
society could hardly exist — a rite of initiation and a
rite of fellow ship, aa *ct by which His followers could
keep alive the memory of their Founder's teaching and
realize their fellowship with one another.

Symbols, then, are necessary, and to Christians no
symbols can take the place of those which have been
handed down to them by tradition from their Founder.
And yet the value of the symbol disappears when
attention is directed away from the meaning to the
symbol itself ; and that tendency is promoted, as it
seems to me (no doubt quite unintentionally), by a
good deal of what is called " high " teaching about the
sacraments, — teaching 'which is always insisting upon
the wonderfulness, or mysteriousness, or semi-magical
efficacy of the sign, and not upon the importance of
the religious and moral truth which it signifies, —
teaching which tends at times almost to treat the
whole spiritual and moral life of man as a preparation
for the worthy reception of the sacrament, instead of
treating the sacrament as a preparation for a Christ-
like life.

If I attempt for a few moments this morning to
touch on those controversial matters which are no
doubt but too apt (on both sides) to call forth un-
christian heat rather than increase of devotion, it is
because I believe that the teaching to which I have
alluded (though associated in the mind of those who
accept it with much that is true and spiritually

40 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

valuable) has some bad spiritual effects. It leads one
set of people to lose all thought or appreciation of the
thing signified in their enthusiastic reverence for the
sign, while another order of mind to which such
language is meaningless or perplexing is apt to turn
aside altogether from a rite which is associated with
so much that seems to it unintelligible or super-
stitious.

I think it will conduce greatly to intellectual
clearness to bear in mind what, the doct rine of Tra n-
substantiati on rea lly is. The doctrine of Transubstan-
tiation was originally an attempt on the part of the
comparatively enlightened thinkers of the twelfth and
thirteenth centuries to put into a refined and philoso-
phical form the grossly materialistic superstition which
had grown up in the dark ages; and their whole
exposition was originally based upon the philosophical
doctrine known as Realism, in its crudest and most
extravagant form. By a sort of materialising of
Plato, 1 the Schoolmen had come to believe that every
class of things — bread or wine, or body or blood —
is made what it is by an impalpable and insensible
but still local and quasi-physical substance, — a
mysterious substratum, the same in each particular
portion of the thing, — quite separable and distinct
from the accidents or sensible properties of the thing.

1 Not that Plato himself was altogether free from the tendency to
regard the Universal as not merely real (as all sound Metaphysic
holds it to be), but real apart from the particulars in which it is
manifested.

THE HOLY EUCHARIST 41

In the sacrament of the Altar the substance of the
bread and wine was supposed to be miraculously
annihilated by the act of consecration, while its place
was taken by the substance of the body and blood of
Christ This idea, that the substance of a thing can
be separated from its accidents, is one which is now
universally rejected alike by common sense and by
Philosophy, 1 except among those whose Philosophy is
prescribed to them by the necessity of upholding this
doctrine of Transubstantiation. The more clear-
sighted Anglican upholders of the doctrine of the
Real Presence (Isaac Wilberforce, for instance) have
seen that this philosophical doctrine represents the
only way in which it can properly be maintained that
the presence of the body and blood of Christ is in the
strict sense of the word real, — the presence of the real
thing, the very same thing that is also pronounced
by this Theology to be at the same time in heaven.

The only difference between Transubstan tiation and
a thoroughgoing doctrine of the Eeal Presence is that
the latter doctrine is not necessarily bound up with
the belief in the annihilation of the substance of bread
and wine ; it may assume the form of Consubstant iation
— the doctrine that both substances are present
together, the substance of Christ's body and blood, and
the substance of bread and wine. But this Lutheran
theory of " consubstantiation " is not, I think, what is
actually held by most of the modern Anglican

1 The first Schoolman to deny this was John Wycliffe, whose
" Realism " is of a peculiarly modern and enlightened order.

42 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

defenders of the Real Presence. They usually decline
altogether to define what they mean. They are
content with the assertion that Christ is present — in
what way they do not know. But they forget that
what they are committed to is the presence of Christ's
body and blood, not of His Spirit, of His influence, of
the spiritual help and strength which flows from the
life that He once lived on earth and the life that He
now lives with God.

How the presence of literal body and blood can
mean anything but Transubstantiatio n or C o naubste n-
tiation it is difficult to see. There can surely in
strictness of speech be no such thing as the spiritual
presence of a material thing, if presence is to mean
anything more than a presence to the minds of those
who think of it. And if it is the presence of Christ
Himself — of the spiritual Being — that they mean, they
are bound to explain how a spirit can properljjbe
said to have any local presence at all. Spirits do not
occupy space. We may indeed, if we please, say that
a spirit is where it acts. 1 In this sense, no doubt,
we may quite reasonably talk about a real presence of
Christ in the Holy Eucharist. But in that sense the
>resence is a fter all a purely spir itual presence —
a presence in and for the mind of the faithful receiver.
And no doubt nothing can be more real — if by that is
meant simply true, actual, or efficacious — than a
spiritual presence, as is eloquently set forth in Jeremy

1 As is maintained, for instance, by Lotze in the chapter in his
Microcoamus on " the seat of the Soul."

THE HOLY EUCHARIST 43

Taylor's admirable treatise on "the Real Presence."

But then in that sense it is surely impossible to deny

the presence of Christ wherever the influences that

flow from the thought of Him are producing spiritual

effects in human souls, — in prayer, i n reading the

Scriptures, a bove all in the actual Christ ward strug gle

of the moral life. And when this is pointed out, one

generally finds that in the more moderate and less

dogmatic of its asserters the doctrine of the Real

Presence dwindles away into an assertion of some

special, unique, extraordinary influence of Christ in

the Holy Eucharist — something sui generis, different * ^ (u <^<

in kind, or at least in degree, from that which is f\^<v.c

exercised through any other channel. If anyone *-•-*

thinks it a gain to use language in a sense very

remote from its original, historical meaning, there is

no reason why those who take this view should not

still speak of the Real Presence ; only then they must

not suppose they are asserting anything which is denied

by the Westminster Confession or by Low Churchmen

in our own Communion.

And yet this notion of a special presence is after
all not a very illuminating one. Of course, the Holy
Eucharist must be something that no other act of
worship can be to the Christian who believes
that Christ instituted this rite, or who attaches
importance to the continuous and all but universal
practice of His Church. But surely the degree or
the kind of Christ-presence which any particular act
of worship brings with it must depend upon the

44 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

state and circumstances of the individual soul. We
cannot lay down hard and fast rules, and say that
all Christians must as a matter of fact realise the
presence of Christ in the Eucharist in some quite
different way or sense from that in which they
realise His presence in private prayer or in reading
the Gospels. It is said that this particular act has
a special promise annexed to it. I find no special
promise connected with the institution of the Lord's
Supper in the New Testament. A special command
there is, but not a special promise. If our Lord
said, " This is My body," He said also, " Where two
or three are gathered together in My name, there am
I in the midst of you." Is it not enough to obey
the command, and to make the most of the ordinance
for ourselves, without constructing theories as to the
difference between this particular kind of grace or
spiritual benefit and what may be got through
other channels, — still more without denying to those
who conscientiously doubt that Christ's command was
intended as a permanent direction to His disciples,
the Christian graces which have so visibly char-
acterised the Society of Friends, or making a perfectly
■unintelligible distinction between " sacramental grace "
land the grace that produces the same effect in other
■ways?

But is not this view of the Eucharist, it will be
said, reducing it to a mere sign ? As so often happens
in such cases, does not a fallacy lie in that word
"mere"? If there is anything in the sacramental

THE HOLY EUCHARIST 45

principle, signs are very important things. Sacra-
ments are not mere signs but " efficacious sig ns " (as
our Article puts it) — that is, they actually tend to
produce the spiritual effects which they represent
It would be as absurd to say that we are disparaging
the sacraments by calling them signs, as to say that
we are disparaging human language when we say
that it is only a system of signs. Words are signs,
but they are so important that you can hardly
think at all without their aid. Words are signs,
but they are signs that produce the thing — that
is to say the ideas — that they signify. All the
great events of history are the result of words.
It is words that have moulded men together into
societies, that have set up and put down kings,
created states, institutions, churches, revolutions,
civilisations ; but words have done these things only
because they are the signs of ideas. We can hardly
think too much of the sacraments if we will only
regard them as a kind of language. It is doubtful
whether any doctrine about them can really be
called high doctrine, that tends to reduce them to
the level of a spell or a charm supposed to do its
work quite apart from the meaning which the words
convey to those who use them.

Let me from these reflections draw two practical
conclusions :

1. In the first place, it is well to be tender and
reverent towards the belief of those who think
differently from ourselves on this subject It is a

46 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

pity, surely, to use strong language about the idolatry
of the Mass and the like. This is a doctrine, surely,
on which members of the same Church may agree
to differ, so long as they are not forced to use
formulae or symbols which imply one view of the
matter. There are theological beliefs which (with
all charity and modesty) we must not hesitate to
denounce in strong terms, for there are theological
doctrines which degrade the character of God,
theological doctrines fatal to Morality, doctrines
which involve an intolerant attitude towards other
Christians. The doctrine of the Real Presence can
hardly be regarded in this light It may be indirectly
connected with much that has some of these effects,
4 especially when it is associated with the doctrine that
the miracle of consecration demands a Priest with
apostolical succession, a notion of which there is
not a trace in the New Testament or the earliest
Christian writings. But of the doctrine itself (in
the strict sense, which, as I have suggested, is
often not really meant by those who assert it) it
is enough to say that it is intellectually unintelligible
and spiritually unedifying.

2. On the other hand, I do feel strongly that
those who do not hold this doctrine should not
hesitate to say so. They should show, both in word
and deed, that practical reverence for the great
symbol of Christian brotherhood is not diminished
by the refusal either to accept rigid definitions in
which they do not believe, or to use vague language

THE HOLY EUCHARIST 47

about the mysterious and unintelligible character of
the rite in the hope of propitiating those who do
believe in such definitions. Are we not sometimes too
much afraid of some offensive label culled from the
rich vocabulary of theological vituperation ? There
is a tendency sometimes to talk as though it really
would be a good thing, if only it were true, that
we should be able to say "the body of Christ is
present on that table" — to talk as though it were
a real spiritual loss not to be able to believe in
such a doctrine. I venture to suggest that in this,
as in many other matters, the utmost reverence may
be combined with perfect intellectual clearness,
perfect intellectual frankness; and I do not think
it is of very great importance that we should be
able to point out some unique benefit to be obtained
from Holy Communion which could not possibly be
obtained in any other way. The Holy Communion
is worship at its highest. That surely gives it a
sufficient title to our reverence. But from a prac-
tical point of view I may just suggest one or two
of the special benefits of this service as compared
with other forms of worship.

(1) One source of its special value lies in the
fact that it calls upon us to do something for
ourselves. In other acts of worship, we are, as it
were, passiva We are read to, we are preached
to, we are sung to, we are prayed for. Of course
it ought not to be so ; we ought to feel bound to
pray and to praise for ourselves, whether silently

48 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

or vocally. But with the conventional services which
we attend as a matter of course Sunday after
Sunday, we are apt to think that it is so — that
we are not making any profession, not committing
ourselves to anything by attending them, just as the
majority of respectable people attend them. As to
the Holy Communion, the least thoughtful Christian
must feel that that is otherwise. It calls upon us
to examine our lives; to make a definite confession
to God of definite sins ; to make definite acts of
penitence, of resolution, of self -dedication ; and to
make open profession before our fellow-men of our
desire to lead the life of Christ.

(2) And that mention of our fellow-men suggests
another reason for the great importance of Holy
Communion. More than any other service the
Holy Communion helps us, compels us to realise
the idea of the Church or Christian Society. In
all worship the realization of Christian Brotherhood
is an important element: in the Holy Communion
it is of vital importance. And that brings me to
another great debt which we owe to the High Church
party — the revival among us of that idea of the
Church which is, properly understood, so fundamental
an element not merely in Christian Theology, but in
Christian Morality. Of that service I have recently
spoken and hope to speak again. For the present
I will only ask you to bear in mind that any true
idea of the Eucharist must remain inadequate which
leaves out and obscures this fundamental aspect of

THE HOLY EUCHARIST

49

it Communion with the brethren is a vital part
of that Sacrament. The Sacrament in which we
symbolically eat the body and drink the blood of
Christ does, indeed, primarily mean an effort to
appropriate, and to conform our wills to, His teaching ;
but then the essence of His teaching is our brother-
hood one of another in that Society which He
founded — the Society of people pledged to live out
that teaching of His in social life.

IV.
BAPTISM.

61

Go ye thtrrfofv, aad tmtk all aatwm^ hapttiiig tWi ta tfct
of Um P«lKer, &ad of the Sua, and of Um Holy Ul
Matt, xxviii. lft.

IV.
BAPTISM.

T17HEREVEE Baptism is alluded to throughout the
pages of the New Testament, except in this
passage of St. Matthew, it is always Baptism in the
name of Jesus Christ or of the Lord Jesus. 1 The plain,
natural, and straightforward interpretation of the
phrase is to suppose that in the days of the Apostles
only the name of the Lord Jesus was used in the
formula of Baptism — that the words which the
Baptizer used were, " I baptize thee in the name of the
Lord Jesus." If that is so, we are driven to infer
that these words, put into our Lord's mouth by the
present text of St. Matthew's Gospel, could not really
have been uttered by Him in their present form. It
is inconceivable that with this command of their
Master to baptize in the name of the Holy Trinity
staring them in the face, the Apostles and other early
Christian teachers could have gone about using a
different form of words. Harmonists have tried to
persuade themselves that Baptism in the name of

1 Acts ii. 38, xix. 5 ; 1 Cor. i. 18 ; Rom. vi. 3. This formula is also
found in the Didach6, though elsewhere in that doubtless composite
work the trinitarian formula appears.

63

54 CHR'STUS IN ECCLESIA

the Lord Jesus is just a way of saying " Christian
Baptism/' and that the words really were from
the first, " In the name of the Father and of the
Son and of the Holy Ghost." I can only say that
if there was ever a non-natural interpretation — not,
be it observed, of some difficult doctrinal idea, but —
of a plain historical statement, it is that. I believe
that when St. Paul and St. Luke talk about Baptism
in the name of the Lord, they mean just what
they say.

And we are not without corroborative evidence.

Up to the ninth century * or later, Councils and
Popes decided that Baptism in the name of the Lord
Jesus was valid. That decision has since been reversed
by the later judgment of the Church ; but I cannot con-
ceive how the question could have been so much as
raised at so late a date if the custom of baptizing in
the name of the Lord Jesus had not been at one
time widely diffused in the Church, or how such a
custom could ever have sprung up if the text of the
first Gospel, or its original source, had always been
what it is in our textus receptus. And, further, Mr.
Conybeare has recently made the interesting discovery
that there are passages of Eusebius in which our
text is quoted in a different form — "Go ye and
make disciples of all the nations in My name, teaching

1 We find this view taken by Nicolas i. (a.d. 858-867), Mansi,
Concilia, t. xv. c. 444. The very frequency with which the contrary
view had to be asserted (see passages on both sides in Decretum
Gratiani, Pt. in. Disk iv. c. 28 sq.) seems to indicate a wide survival
of the earlier usages.

BAPTISM 55

them to observe all things whatsoever I commanded
you." 1

That shows that as late as the fourth century of the
Christian era there were still copies of the first Gospel,
or of some earlier source of that Gospel, in circulation
in which this injunction to Baptism in the name of
the Holy Trinity was wanting. There can be little
doubt that that was the original tradition. It was
subsequently altered, as unfortunately other passages
of the New Testament were altered, to gain a sanction
for the later doctrine or practice of the Church.

Baptism in the name of the Trinity must no doubt
be of tolerably early origin, for we find the Trinitarian
formula in use as early as the date of the " Teaching
of the Twelve Apostles," though another part of that
early Christian writing speaks of Baptism " in the
name of the Lord." The insertion belongs to the
same order as the famous passage about the three
heavenly witnesses in the first Epistle of St. John 2
which has disappeared from our Eevised Version;
though it has nearly escaped detection owing to the
much earlier date at which it was made and the

1 See Mr. F. C. Conybeare's article on " The early doctrinal Modifi-
cations of the Text of the Gospels " in the Hibbert Journal, vol. i. No. 1
(Oct. 1902). His conclusions have been challenged by the Rev. J. R.
Wilkinson in the Hibbert Journal, vol. i. No. 8 (April 1908), who
regards Eusebius' quotation as coming not from the original text of
our Matthew, which in Eusebius 1 copy stood as it does now, but from
an olderpre-Matthean Gospel (not the Logia) ; but he does not doubt
that in this original Gospel the text was as Mr. Conybeare supposes,
and thinks that the text was deliberately altered by the compiler of
our Matthew.

MJohnv. 7.

56 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

much more universal reception with which it ulti-
mately met.

Now, why do I dwell on these facts ? Not from
any desire to throw discredit on the existing usage of
the Church in the matter of Baptism. Quite apart
from this passage, there is abundant evidence that it
was the custom of the Christian Society from the
very earliest times to admit new converts into its
membership by Baptism, in token of their belief in
the forgiveness of past sins, and of the newness and
purity of the life upon which they were entering.
From the nature of the case, it is probable that this
custom, universal among the Apostles from the very
first, originated in the practice and precept of our Lord
Himself. And for those who (like myself) regard the
fourth Gospel in its narrative portions as an important
source of history, there is explicit evidence of the fact
"The Pharisees had heard that Jesus was making
and baptizing more disciples than John, although
Jesus himself baptized not, but his disciples." 1 As
to the exact form of words to be used, it is improbable
that our Lord left any precise injunction. The
Church was within its right, in accordance with the
growing love of doctrinal elaboration, in insisting on
the use of the more technical form. No reasonable
man will clamour for a return now to the simpler
form, though some of us might personally wish that
the change had not been made, and might even plead
for the recognition of the simpler form if any body of

1 John iv. 1 ; cf. iii. 22.

BAPTISM 57

Christians existed which was willing to use it, while
scrupling to employ the elaborated formula. But all
the same this particular result (for it does seem to be
a definite and unassailable result) of modern criticism,
is deeply significant. Just think for a moment what
a tremendous superstructure has been raised upon this
text of St. Matthew by later Theology! What
theories of marvellous supernatural phenomena re-
sulting from the use of a particular form of words and
wholly lost if a slightly different form be used, what
tremendous exclusions and condemnations upon whole
bodies of Christ's followers who (upon some mistaken
scruple) have declined to follow the general practice of
Christendom in this matter ! And now it turns out
that the text upon which it is all founded is at least
doubtful It is not merely that this particular text is
shown to be no true word of Jesus, but the fate of this
particular text shows the impossibility of that whole
method of using Scripture upon which the narrower
theories about Baptism repose. It shows the impos-
ability of making any important doctrine whatever rest
upon some literal interpretation of some isolated saying
of Jesus. So long as the only reason for believing a
thing is simply and solely the fact that Jesus Christ
used these words and that this alleged interpretation
of them is the true one, — words taken out of all
relation to their context, unsupported by the general
tenor and spirit of His teaching, unsupported by the
conscience or reason of those to whom they are
addressed, — the mere external authority of a text can

58 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

never be a sufficient foundation on which to build
great systems of doctrine, particularly when they
involve us in wholesale condemnations of our fellow-
Christians, or compel us to annex mysterious conse-
quences to the due performance of an outward act.
There must always remain the doubt whether the
words were actually uttered, whether they have been
correctly translated, whether enough of the context
and circumstances in which they were spoken has
been preserved to allow us to be sure of their exact
meaning, and, finally, whether they are to be taken
literally or in some measure metaphorically.

Let us turn, for instance, to other passages upon
the same subject. When we turn to the discourse
with Nicodemus about being born again of water and
of the spirit, it is undoubtedly possible that this
discourse, though elaborated freely in his accustomed
manner by the author of the Fourth Gospel, was
based upon reminiscences of an actual discourse of
Jesus. I see no reason to doubt that the allusion to
water is an allusion to the symbolism of Baptism.
And these are additional reasons for our keeping
up, nay, emphasising and making the most of the
initiatory rite which comes down to us with such
authority behind it But when we are asked to
believe in a marvellous spiritual change taking place
in unconscious infants, which does not take place (or
which we are at least forbidden to assume to take
place) in Quakers who show every sign of Christ's
influence upon their hearts and lives, when we are

BAPTISM 59

forbidden to treat as Christians people who have
neglected such a ceremony, when we are asked to
look forward to a different future for children upon
whom such a rite has been conferred, and for those on
whom through no fault of their own it has not been
conferred, then all our doubts return. I do not think
the words in St. John will bear such an interpretation ;
but if they did, I should doubt whether our Lord
could ever have spoken thus, or whether He had been
correctly translated and the like. And I should
appeal to the inconsistency between such a doctrine
and the general tone of Christ's teaching about the
Divine Fatherhood, the importance of the inward, the
nature of the Brotherhood formed by His followers.

Criticism has, I believe, made impossible such an
attempt to build up doctrines which are repudiated
by the heart and conscience of mankind upon isolated
texts, while it has left the essential value of the
Gospel records just what it was before. And let no
one think that the doubts which criticism has raised
in such matters need extend to things more important
and fundamental If anyone were to suggest critical
doubts as to whether our Lord ever said, as He is
reported to have said in the 15th chapter of St. John,
" This is My commandment, That ye love one another,"
there might conceivably turn out to be critical grounds
for eliminating from the text these particular words
in that particular place, or we might even be driven
to agree with those who think that the whole of
the particular discourse of which these words form

60 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

part represents rather the ideas of the fourth Evan-
gelist than any actual discourse uttered on any par-
ticular occasion by Jesus Himself. We might share
such doubts without our fundamental Christian faith
suffering any loss. For if the words were not uttered
then and there, no reasonable criticism can doubt that
words like these were uttered on other occasions, or
that they represent the general tone and tenor of
the Master's character and teaching; nor could it
diminish the authority with which they come home
to our hearts and consciences, or prevent our recog-
nising in Him whose character and teaching they
represent, God's highest revelation of Himself.

And now let me come back a moment to my main
subject — the meaning and significance of this rite of
Baptism. There is strong reason to believe that
Christ practised it ; it is not unreasonable to presume
that He commanded it. It is certain that the Church
always practised and commanded it; and that by
itself would be sufficient for those who believe in the
authority of the Christian community, and the duty
of submitting to its decisions in matters of outward
ordinance. But we are, it seems to me, quite on the
wrong track when we attempt to judge of the
obligation or the importance of a sacrament or of the
benefits to be derived from it, by simply asking how
much positive external authority can be claimed for
it, or what can be proved as to the consequences of
using it or the perils of neglecting it. The sacra-
ments become almost meaningless when taken out of

BAPTISM 61

connection with the whole idea of the Christian com-
munity or Church. A visible society cannot exist
without visible ordinances. A rite of initiation is
one of the most obvious forms in which the life of
any society can express itself. Most of all is this the
case when it is a society which called upon those who
entered it (we must for the moment think of its early
converts from heathenism) for a complete renunciation
of the ruling maxims, the ideas, the practices of their
past life, and the adoption of a wholly new, a severer
and more exacting ideal of conduct. That we might
say, even if we had not (as we have) reason to think
that the Founder ordained that rite to be a memorial
of the forgiveness which He taught His followers to
expect for repented sin and of the new life which He
called upon men to lead. 1 When we ask what are
the benefits of Baptism, we must not isolate the idea
of this initiation from the idea of the Society into
which we are initiated. The benefits of Baptism
include all the benefits which we receive by being
within the Christian Society. And we have a poor
idea of what the Christian Society is when we think
merely of the acts of public worship which are the
natural and necessary outward expression of its life, or
even of that other sacrament which is the most solemn
expression of its corporate unity. All the knowledge

1 1 do not here intend to pronounce any opinion upon the difficult
question, what sort of duration and what sort of future our Lord con-
templated for the Society which de facto He was founding. It is
enough to say that He intended Baptism to be a note of His followers.

62 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

of God that we possess, the whole revelation made in
Christ, the forgiveness of sins, the hope of Immortality,
the whole Christian ideal of life and all the motives
and the influences which inspire us to it, — all these
things may be said to come to us through membership
of the Christian community, if only we have a
sufficiently wide idea of what the Christian Society is.
All moral ideals are social products : the Christian
ideal is no exception. De facto we cannot deny
that many unbaptized persons live within the
Christian community, however strongly we may
regret the mistaken spiritualism (as it seems to us)
which leads them to repudiate a rite all but uni-
versally accepted by Christian people throughout the
world. However much we may regret that ecclesi-
astical divisions have impaired the visible unity which
should exist among those who share the Christian
name, there are some actually within the Church,
though they have neglected the initiatory rite, just as
there are, alas ! so many who have gone through that
rite but are almost strangers (no one in a nominally
Christian country can be wholly a stranger) to the
real spirit and ideal which the Society exists to
maintain. There are many degrees of membership
in the Christian community. Individuals may be
more or less within the Society, just as the Society
itself may be more or less Christian. Form and
substance may sometimes be separated. A usurper
or a tyrant may be crowned, and a lawful king who
realises the ideal of kingship may spend a long reign

BAPTISM 63

without a coronation. But symbols, even when
they come to us with as much authority behind them
as Baptism, should always be talked and thought
about in their natural and normal connection with
the realities which they symbolise. When so con-
nected, the symbol tends to create the reality. The
sacrament is not merely a sign of grace ; it tends (in
those who rightly use it) to confer grace, for it tends
to keep alive the idea of the Church. The idea of
the Church of Christ, of the complete change and
exacting ideal of life which it demands of us, of the
active work for the brethren for which it calls upon
us, of the self -denying charity which is its very life, —
this idea cannot be too much with us. It is, it has
been too little with us. It is quite natural that
those who are indifferent to that idea, whose
Christianity is wholly of the individualistic type,
should be comparatively indifferent to the rite of
Baptism. But the idea of the Church can never
wholly die out among us, so long as we retain
the two simple rites which alone perhaps among
distinctively Christian ordinances can be traced back
certainly to the practice of the first Apostles, and
in all reasonable probability to the practice and
example of their Master.

V.

INFANT BAPTISM.

•ti«tli ' H.»M m 4 (A \ i

V.
INFANT BAPTISM.

THE symbolism of this passage must have come
home to St. Paul's readers in a way in which,
with our modern usages, it can hardly do to ourselves.
St Paul had before his mind an adult man, making
in the presence of the assembled community a con-
fession of his past sins, then plunging beneath the
water of the baptismal pool or stream, rising from it
and making, doubtless as yet in very few and simple
words, a solemn, personal profession of faith in one
God, and in His Son Jesus Christ. 1 When we think
what Baptism meant to the early Christian, there is
no wonder that it should be described as a death no
less than as a new life. It was indeed a death to
the old heathen life. Not only in the Apostles' time,
but all through the first two or three centuries of the
Christian era, the man who became a Christian was
called upon to renounce to a very large extent the
amusements, the society, the occupations, which had

1 The words pat into the mouth of Philip in Acts viii. 37 doubtless
represent a very ancient baptismal rite, though they are not part of
the original text. For a picturesque account of the baptismal cere-
monies in the early Church, see Stanley, Christian Institutions,

68 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

seemed to him hitherto to make life worth living.
When the candidate for Baptism, facing towards the
west, the quarter of darkness, solemnly and personally
renounced the devil and all his works (" I renounce
thee, Satan, and all thy works "), and then, after im-
mersion, turned towards the east, the quarter of light,
and recited the symbol or creed of his new faith, there
could be no doubt whatever about the seriousness of
the step he was taking, about the magnitude and the
exactingneBB of the change to which he stood committed.
A new life, a new ideal lay before him, marked out by
a clear-cut and tyrannical public opinion, enforced by
vigilant officers and grave penalties. Old habits of
life, old associations had to be given up ; sacrifices had
to be made, persecution and ridicule had to be en-
countered to a certainty ; the risk had to be faced of
penury and torture and death. On the other hand,
a new society was ready to receive and welcome and
encourage hi™ ; a new world opened before him,
carrying with it a sure and certain hope of a blessed
hereafter, such as was to the religions around him a
vague uncertainty and to the philosophers a specula-
tion. To a ceremony intimately connected with such
a change, it was natural that such terms as regenera-
tion, or new birth, or illumination should be applied : '

1 The sarly Church did not bo muob believe in Begeneratian
accompanying Baptism as identify the two things. It wu a name
for Baptism itself, just lite that other favourite term— Illumination
(aWrurjwi), though no one pretends that Baptism, apart from the
instruction which in the ease of adults accompanied it, by itself
conveyed any actus,! intellectual illumination,

INFANT BAPTISM 69

and it is no wonder that in an age much given to
mysticism and little given to science, the ideas con-
nected with the reality should gradually transfer them-
selves insensibly to the bare ceremony taken by itself.
It is a sound remark of Dean Alford's, that wher-
ever Baptism is spoken of in the New Testament,
both the sign and the thing signified are really
implied — both the act of Baptism and the moral
change which normally went with it. In those days
the two naturally and almost inevitably went together.
Nobody in those days would be baptized who did not
mean what Baptism implied. Beception into the new
society necessarily involved a great change of Ufa
Modern controversies about Baptism have arisen from
the fact that that connection has not always been
maintained. And when we look at what Baptism
actually was in primitive times and what it is now,
we may well ask ourselves whether the Church has
done wisely to change this solemn profession of per-
sonal self-dedication into a ceremony performed as a
matter of course over every unconscious infant.

Of infant Baptism in the New Testament, or in
immediately post-apostolic times, there is not a single
trace. We hear nothing of it till the latter half of
the second century; and then it is a moot point
whether children should be baptized and at what age.
We find Tertullian suggesting that Baptism had better
be postponed at least till an age at which they
could understand what they were doing. All through
the early Church infant Baptism was the exception

70 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

rather than the rule. Well-known Christian saints
born of Christian parents were baptized only in
middle life. The growing belief in the mechanical
certainty of absolute forgiveness at -the moment of
Baptism — a forgiveness never obtainable afterwards
for post-baptismal sin — led men to postpone the rite
till the hour of death. From the sermons of
Chrysostom, preached in his Cathedral of Constanti-
nople, it is clear that his congregations Consisted
largely of professedly Christian, but of unbaptized
persona He constantly warns his hearers against
such postponement, and draws a vivid picture of the
wailing and lamentation which was wont to fill the
house when the physician decided that the sick man
must be baptized. 1 The decision was looked upon as
a sentence of death. It was natural that unless they
were prepared to amend their views about the
mechanical efficacy of Baptism, the Bishops should
exhort in vain. Upon the admitted premisses the
layman's logic was right. It was a bad economy to
throw away a certain and easy means of salvation,
while there was a probability of sinning again.
Gradually, however, as the Church modified the
severity of its views about post-baptismal sin, the
fear of dying unbaptized prevailed over the fear of
squandering so precious a gift, and infant Baptism
became the general practice of the Church. 2

1 Horn. I. in Acta, ad fin.

1 All the early references are collected in Wall's Infant Baptism,
vol. i. The passages cited from the New Testament and Justin

INFANT BAPTISM 71

At first sight we may regret the decay of the old
severity,— the necessity for personal conviction and
personal profession, — the hard and fast line which it
established between a deliberate and a nominal Chris-
tianity. And yet reflection will convince us perhaps
that the old state of things could not last. It was im-
possible that as the Church more and more fulfilled its
mission, and began, at least in some scanty measure,
to conquer the world, the line that separated the
Christian Society from the non-Christian world should
remain as sharp as it was in the days of persecution.
The change inevitably involved, alas ! a frightful
falling off in the strictness of the Church's rule and of
average Christian life, but it was a necessary stage in
the doing of the Church's work. And in the altered
state of things the postponement of Baptism to a
late age would have been an unreality. Baptism
means essentially becoming a Christian, becoming a
member of the Christian Society. And the child of
Christian parents, brought up in a Christian atmo-
sphere, taught from his earliest years the Christian
ideal, familiarised from the first with the signs of the
Christian faith and the usages of Christian worship,
is never really altogether outside the Christian corn-
Martyr prove nothing at all. Assuming that the expression "are
born again unto God" in Irenaeus (contra Hser. ii. c. 89) implies
Baptism, this passage would show that children were sometimes
baptized, possibly in articulo mortis, not that the practice was
universal, or even general. From Tertullian (de Bapt. c. 18) and
Origen (Horn. xiv. in Luk. ii.), it may likewise be inferred that
parvuli were often baptized. Tertullian was even in favour of
postponement "donee ant nnbant aut continentite corroborentor."

72 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

munity. The change of form corresponds to the
change of substance. When the child of nominally
Christian parents is brought to the font in infancy,
and then is educated in a home which is practically
pagan, then, no doubt, the institution is unreal enough.
But when practice corresponds in some measure to
ideal, the wisdom of the Church's rule can hardly be
doubted.

The attitude which we ought to adopt towards
the question of infant Baptism really turns upon the
view we take of the Church. If we think that the
Church was meant to be, and practically can be, a
Society entirely composed of mature, advanced, and
strenuous Christians, then, no doubt, there is ample
justification for the practice of the sect which refuses
to baptize till there have been definite signs, or at least
a definite personal profession, of conversion and faith.
But was the Church only intended for perfected
Christians ? Is such a view conformable to the ideal
of Him who would not break the bruised reed or
quench the smoking flax, who pronounced that those
who were not against Him were for Him, who fore-
saw that the outward and visible society which was
growing up around Him must contain tares inextric-
ably mingled with the wheat ? Is it not more in
accordance with His spirit, with the facts of Christian
history, with the constitution and the needs of human
nature, to regard the Church as a great educational
institution, which includes children as members, propter
spent, non propter rem (to use an old phrase) — for

INFANT BAPTISM 73

hope, not for performance, — members to be gradually
educated into a sense of all that is implied by their
membership, imperfect Christians to be developed
into more perfect Christians ; an institution in which
the most perfect Christian regards himself as still
only a disciple, a learner, undergoing education in the
school of Christ 1 Sophistical attempts have been
made to find in the New Testament traces of infant
Baptism. It is with a sounder instinct that the
Church, in the Baptismal Gospel, has rested its justi-
fication not upon any such precarious inferences, but
rather upon the words of Christ: "Suffer the little
children to come unto Me, and forbid them not : for
of such (that is to say, of little ones, of those who
make themselves little by the service of others) is the
kingdom of God." The practice of infant Baptism
is one of the happiest instances in the history of the
Christian Church of what has been called in the
political sphere " development by usage," — a develop-
ment in perfect harmony with the spirit of its
Founder and His Apostles, though it cannot claim the
direct authority of either.

I have attempted to justify the practice of infant
Baptism, because I think that (though the matter is
rarely now discussed) there is in some people's minds
an uneasy suspicion that to make much of Baptism
(or of any other outward rite of the Church) can only
be defended by some crude superstition or some vague,

1 This argument is forcibly urged in Curteis' Bampton Lectures,
Dimnt in its Relation to the Church 0/ England, Leek iv.

74 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

unintelligible subtlety which they do not really believa
I have tried to show how amply, not merely the
practice of Baptism, but the emphasis which is laid
upon it, justifies itself from the point of view of reason
— on one condition, that we look upon it in its proper
place in reference to the whole idea of the Christian
Church. To attach importance to Baptism, considered
simply as an isolated mechanical act ; to suppose that
a man who went about, for instance, secretly baptizing
heathen children abroad, or neglected infants in
London slums, without the knowledge of their parents
or anybody else, as the Spanish ruffians in South
America baptized the natives before they slaughtered
them, — to suppose that such Baptism would confer
any real benefit upon the children, would indeed be
the basest of superstitions. But look upon Baptism
as symbolising, coinciding with, and (from a formal
and external point of view) constituting membership
of the Christian Society, look at it in its effects upon
the mind of the Society which practises the rite, upon
the parents and others who bring the child to the
font, upon the child who is constantly throughout life
reminded of all that was meant by that act ; then, if
we repeat of infant Baptism the question which we
asked last Sunday of the normal adult Baptism in
primitive times, Does Baptism confer grace? the
answer is not doubtful. If grace be spiritual influence,
then certainly infant Baptism is a means of conveying
Christian influence.

The altered position of Baptism in modern Christen-

INFANT BAPTISM 75

dom reminds us of the change which has taken place
in the relations between the Church and the world.
In ancient times a Christian was necessarily very
sharply marked out from his neighbours by the
practice of unusual rites, by abstinence from pursuits
and amusements and social customs in which the
world around saw no harm at all, by a distinctive way
of life, which to the best of those neighbours appeared
admirable and almost unattainable, to most of them
stupid and offensive, to all peculiar and eccentric
It would be an unreality to say that a true Christian
now ought necessarily, in all circumstances and in all
surroundings, to be regarded as an eccentric person.
It would be extravagant to make the incurring the
milder forms of persecution, such as may often now
attend a life of real Christian principle, an absolutely
necessary test of personal Christianity. Just because
to some extent, however imperfectly and intermittently,
the Christian Society has for these nineteen centuries
been doing its appointed work of advancing the King-
dom of Heaven, the division between Christian and
non-Christian is not, cannot be, ought not to be, so
clear and sharp as it once was. But still it is well
that we should, in a way, look back upon the old days
of open warfare and persecution as suggesting the true
ideal of the Church. Would that people would think
more of imitating the early Church on this practical
and moral and social side, instead of imitating it (after
all so incompletely and one-sidedly) in some detail
of ritual or worship ! Would that, when they think

76 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

of the early Church, they would have in mind the
Church of the first or second century (when dogma
was vague and uncertain, but Christian life clear and
definite), rather than the Church after Constantine,
when the bitterness of the strife had ceased, and
the chief note of average Christianity came to be a
fiery zeal for orthodoxy ! If the Christian life seems
easier now, we should ask ourselves anxiously how far
it is due to the world having adopted the maxims and
the ideal of the Christ, and how far to the Church
having adopted the maxims and ideals of the world.
We should ask ourselves that question anxiously and
personally, in reference to our own particular circum-
stances. No one can seriously deny that the maxims
usually adopted in ordinary political or commercial life,
the maxims that are commonly taken for granted in
ordinary social intercourse, are not (except in the very
elements of Ethics) the maxims which result from the
Christian ideal of brotherhood. Every Christian's life
ought still to be a struggle and a warfare, — a struggle
more and more to substitute in his own life and the
life of the society around, in business or professional
work, in political and economic arrangements, as well
as in the domesticities of private life, the ideal of
Christ for the ideal of the world, the ideal of mutual
co-operation for the ideal of every one for himself.
There must be struggle and effort, in some sense
there must be strife and antagonism, in any sincerely
Christian life. It would be unreal to insist that in
all circumstances the practice of the Christian life

INFANT BAPTISM 77

must carry with it habitual or violent collision with
our immediately surrounding society. Some of us
do live, thank God, in relatively Christian sur-
roundings; for some of us the elementary rules of
Christian living are rendered by those surroundings
comparatively easy. But if our life is at all times,
in all directions, in all relations, an easy thing, — a
life without struggle and without sacrifice, — it should
make us ask ourselves, not without anxiety, whether
it is really after all the Christian life that we are
leading, whether it might not be made more Christian,
whether we might not be doing something to help
the many among rich and poor for whom very simple
kinds of Christian profession and Christian living are
still very difficult. We can never afford to forget
those words which were once said over each of us,
and the sign with which we were signed, " in token
that hereafter he shall not be ashamed to confess
the faith of Christ crucified, and manfully to fight
under His banner, against sin, the world, and the devil;
and to continue Christ's faithful soldier and servant
unto his life's end."

VI.
GRACE.

7»

■j-iril. Aim ii ' (•*! \i I*

* « :'b. io«r

VI.
GRACE.

rilHE word "Grace" is one of those terms which
-*• have been so much bandied about in theological
controversies, that it has probably for a very large
number of Christian people lost nearly all its meaning,
and contracted associations which cause it sometimes
to be regarded with positive dislike. And yet the
idea which it represents occupies so large a place,
not merely in the language of technical Theology,
but in the teaching of the Apostles themselves, that
we shall miss something if we do not make an effort
to think what it really means.

The Greek word %a/w, the Latin gratia, means, of
course, originally favour or mercy. For the early
Christian it came to denote the effects of the Divine
favour — the spiritual gifts which came to them with
the knowledge of Christ, or the influence to which
they felt those gifts to be due.

It was natural, of course, in the circumstances of the
early Christians, that they should confine such a term
as a rule to the distinctly Christian gifts of head
and heart and character, to that new and marvellous
influence which had streamed in upon their own lives

82 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

when they accepted the faith of Christ. It was
natural that the new Christian word should be used
for the new Christian thing — the most wonderful new
thing in the spiritual sphere which ever has been
introduced into this world of ours. But all the same
there is no reason why we should limit the idea of
grace to those spiritual influences which come to us
directly or indirectly from the work of Christ. It
is this hard and fast distinction between the natural
or moral virtues and those which are supposed to
be producible only by supernatural influence, which
tends to make the whole doctrine of Grace sound
to many modern ears like some echo of far-off primi-
tive superstition disinterred by modern anthropology.
Though I do not know that we could quote a passage
from the New Testament in which the virtues of
the heathen are distinctly described as gifts of grace,
what St. Paul says at the beginning of the Epistle
to the Romans about the virtues of the heathen world
justifies us in claiming his sanction for the assertion
that the virtues of the heathen do come from God
— still more so the Johannine doctrine of the light
that lighteth every man. There is a real and im-
portant difference between the Christian character
and the best types of character that were known
in the heathen and the Jewish world; but that is
no reason why we should ascribe the virtues of St.
Paul to the grace of God, and the virtues of Socrates
(with some fanatical theologians) to the devil, or (with
the more compromising) to their own unaided — we

GRACE 83

might almost say their own self -created — intelligence.
The contrary truth was fully recognised by the more
philosophical Greek Fathers, who gladly admitted that
in Plato and Zeno, no less than in the old Jewish
prophets, the Holy Ghost had spoken. It is partly
because of this — because they were comparatively
free from that hard and fast distinction between
the natural and the supernatural — that the elaborate
development of the doctrine of Grace into a cut
and dried technical system, the parent of all sorts
of unlovely narrowness, has been chiefly left to the
Latin Fathers and their medieval and Protestant
successors.

There is an article of the Church of England
which declares that "works done before the grace
of Christ and the Inspiration of his Spirit are not
pleasant to God, forasmuch as they spring not of
faith in Jesus Christ, neither do they make men
meet to receive grace, or (as the School-authors say)
deserve grace of congruity : yea rather, for that they
are not done as God hath willed and commanded
them to be done, we doubt not but they have the
nature of sin/ 1 It is hardly possible to read the
words without a shudder, when one thinks of what
they probably meant to the Protestant dogmatist
who penned them. But no passage in the Articles
is more patient of a reasonable and human inter-
pretation. We have only to say (as we can say with
perfect truth) that the good works of the heathen
could not have been done without some measure of

84 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

justifying grace; and the grace of God is always
according to the strictest letter of orthodox Theology
(even before the coming of Jesus) also the grace
of Christ.

There are two directions in which the doctrine
of Grace has been narrowed down and abused till it
has come to be for so many a mere bugbear — on the
one hand in the region of the personal religious life,
and on the other in connection with the Sacraments.
The doctrine has taken, one might say, a subjective
and an objective form. We will look at the subjective
side first.

1. It is most true — and it is most important to
recognise — that all spiritual insight (we might, of
course, say the same of all kinds of knowledge or
insight, but we are naturally here mainly concerned
with what is moral and religious), every spiritual
impulse, every good desire or resolution, comes from
God. The belief in the Holy Spirit means nothing
at all if it does not mean that. But the mischief
begins when people look for the operations of grace
just where the work of Beason and of Conscience
ends, when they seek to make of Grace a sort of
external power, wholly disconnected with the ordinary
intellectual and practical life of the man, which comes
in from without, and plays upon him (to use the
old phrase of the Montanist) as the bow plays
upon the lyre; so that in his religious knowledge,
in his religious emotion, in his good deeds, he is a
mere passive instrument in the hands of an over-

GRACE 85

powering influence from the outside. When the
man begins to think that he has a knowledge
which is independent of thought, that he may despise
evidence, contradictions, irrationality, and that every
chance whim or impulse of his, all the more if
it is opposed to the dictates of common humanity
or natural Conscience, is a commanding voice from
on high; still more when he takes to despising
the truth that is got by patient thought and
inquiry, and the goodness that springs from patient
and perhaps unemotional efforts to follow Conscience,
then it is that the doctrine of Grace becomes an
offence to the common-sense understanding, and an
obstacle to true piety. It is in, not outside, the
working of Beason and Conscience and Will, in and
through the ordinary social affections and the moral
aspirations which are the necessary basis of true
Xous emotion, that we must sJ the workings of
the Spirit of God. Of course there is no reason
why we should not recognise degrees of insight or
grace. We need not disparage or deny the special
insight or inspiration of a St. Paul or a St. Francis,
because we recognise in the most commonplace
workings of Conscience, and the most common-sense
and unenthusiastic Christian belief, the working of
the Spirit of God. If we are really faithful to
the doctrine of Grace, there is no merely natural
knowledge or merely natural goodness, and we may
equally say on the other hand, no merely supernatural
knowledge or goodness; though there may well be a

86 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

more and a less natural, a more and a less super-
natural At all stages of the spiritual life we must
recognise the workings of " that one and the self-same
Spirit, dividing to every man severally as he will"

2. And then, on the other hand, if we turn to the
Sacraments, we get the tendency to treat Grace as
something still more wholly outside of and uncon-
nected with the moral, intellectual, and emotional life
as it presents itself in ordinary human experience.
There is nothing opposed to experience in the idea
that material acts will do spiritual work. All the
ordinary communication of thought and feeling upon
which the higher life of man depends is mediated by
the use of language, and words are but symbols.
From one point of view Sacraments may be looked
upon as simply a particular kind of language. And

I then again it is a great mistake to think about the
Sacraments out of all connection with the Christian
community. The whole idea of the Christian Sacra-
ments is missed when they cease to be looked upon as
forms in which the social life of the Christian com-
munity has clothed itself. And when so regarded
they are simply an exemplification of the general
truth to which all Science testifies, that the higher life
of man — his intellectual and his moral life — are
products not of the isolated man but of societies, and
that it is by the society that these are transmitted to
the individual. Superstition and unreality begin
when the act of the priest and of the recipient is
isolated from the community of which the priest is

GRACE 87

the organ and the recipient a member. When the
effect of the Sacrament is isolated from the effect of
all that is meant and implied by membership in that
community, when the material symbol is isolated from
the words and ideas, the prayers and the instructions,
the whole religious service of which it forms a part
and from which it derives all its meaning, — then begins
the corruption which ends (in its extreme forms) in
degrading the social sacrament into the magic of the
medicine man.

Do Sacraments confer grace, it is asked? Of
course they do, if Grace means spiritual influence.
Everything which makes a human soul better confers
Grace. But if we allow ourselves to speak of Grace
as though it were a mysterious, semi - material fluid
conveyed about through wholly material channels, then
we are in danger of approximating to that magical
view of the Sacraments against which the best High
Churchmen of the present day have happily begun of
late to protest.

What is the real importance of this doctrine of
Grace ? Is it a matter of no consequence whether we
do or do not recognise that all that is best in the
human soul comes from God ? I do not think so.
And to keep alive the doctrine of Grace is one means
of keeping alive in us the sense of God, with the
spiritual consequences which spring from our belief in
God as the source of all things, as the common
Father of the human race, as standing in a personal
relation to every human being. But there is a more

88 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

definite and specific application of that doctrine. I
will not now attempt any discussion of the philo-
sophical question of free-will or its bearings upon the
doctrine of Grace. Unquestionably there is a sense in
which we must assert free-will as an essential part of
the Christian, or indeed of any spiritual, view of the
world at alL We must assert it at least in the sense
that there is such a thing as "self-determination,"
that men's acts are not the result of purely mechanical
forces, of atoms acting on other atoms by external
impact, that men's acts, in short, really do spring from
their characters. That at least we must admit,
however we answer the further question what it is
that determines their characters. And undoubtedly
the doctrine of Grace has sometimes been pushed to
an extent which does endanger this essential truth.
But all the same there are, it seems to me, exaggera-
tions of the free-will aspect of morality which are not
conducive to a really Christian type of character.
The idea that any good I have in me springs from
myself and from nobody but myself, that I am entitled
to plume myself upon it, that I am entitled to claim
merit and reward for it, while all the evil that I
cannot but recognise in other men is all their own
fault, and therefore disentitles them to any sympathy
or assistance from virtuous persons like myself, —
that surely is not the Christian attitude of mind.
Far more Christian is the exclamation of the Pro-
testant martyr, John Bradford, when he saw a
murderer led off to execution, "There, but for the

GRACE 89

grace of God, goes John Bradford ! " And it is not
merely the bare recognition that the good in us comes
ultimately from God that is wanted. It is good to
recognise the channels through whicl) it comes. It is
good to remember more often than we do that it is
definitely from other people, from education, from the
good influences by which we have been surrounded, in
short from the Christian community of the past and
of the present, that we derive whatever measure of
spiritual life we have in us, whatever opportunities of
goodness we enjoy, whether we have used them or
whether we have not And this ought to beget in us
also the reflection that the badness of others is due in
large measure to the want of such influences, and that
for that want we as members of the Christian Society
have our measure of responsibility. It should remind
us that, whether by personal effort in our immediate
environment, or by participation in the works of mercy
and beneficence of the whole Christian community, we
ought to be trying to become channels of grace to
others.

To make more of the Christian community, both
by getting Grace from it and by taking part in its
work of conferring Grace, is one practical lesson to be
drawn from the doctrine which we are considering.
And there is another. The Sacraments are called
means of Grace. They are not the only means of
Grace. But they may serve as the type of others.
They may serve to remind us that if we want to
become better ourselves we must have some means of

90 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

Grace or other. And among these we ought to give
due weight to those which have the special authority
of Christ or of His Church. Have we felt, again and
again it may be, the desire to become better than we
are ? Have we aspired and resolved, and found that
little has come of our aspirations and resolutions?
May it be in some measure because we have forgotten
that, if we want to make ourselves better, we must use
some definite and outward means to that end ? We
have not asked by what change in our circumstances,
by what change in our habits, by what more regular
practice of prayer or communion, by what books, by
what definite piece of almsgiving, or by undertaking
what piece of charitable work, we might become
better. For all such means — alike the rites to which
we especially give the name of Sacrament and those
others to which it is not generally applied — are truly
sacramental. They are all means by which the good
influences that ultimately spring from God and from
Christ, and that are transmitted by the Society which
Christ founded, may be brought to bear upon the
individual soul and the individual life.

VII.
PRIESTHOOD.

9J

" Vc tlm, a* hviBg »lone», *rr l>uilt up * •|»intujhl h«.u»r t i»> Im
a holr |irir«lhtM«l, !•• «>fTvr uj» •|*iri'.u*l HTifikn. fe»r|*t4l>W U*
(•<«] thruu^h Jc»u« ihn«l." I !*kt ii 5 (ICV >.

VII.
PRIESTHOOD.

f\N a previous occasion I tried to make it plain that
^ the great ministerial commissions in the Gospels
— the command to preach, to absolve, to baptize, to
administer the Eucharist — were (according to the
actual text of the Gospels) in the first instance
given to the whole Christian Society. It is some-
times supposed that, in order to correct sacerdotal
assumption and clerical pretension, it is necessary to
belittle the idea of the visible Church. I venture to
think that this is a great mistake. The true cor-
rective of an exaggerated or superstitious view of the
Christian Ministry is to take a very high view of the
Christian Church. And that is certainly the line of
thought which is taken in the words of our text.
The narrownesses which the writer had to correct are
somewhat different from those with which we have to
contend in these days, though they sprang doubtless
from very much the same infirmities of human nature.
He had to try and persuade Jewish Christians that
the time had come for the admission of the Gentiles
to religious equality with the favoured Jewish nation,
and that without submitting to the ceremonial law or

94 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

taking part in the ceremonial sacrifices which (to the
ordinary Jewish apprehension) were the price of their
spiritual privileges. And the method he adopts is not
to belittle the position of Israel as the chosen people
of Jehovah, but to suggest that the old Jewish idea of
a chosen people was but a poor analogue or type of the
position of the Christian Church — that it was in that
purely spiritual but none the less visible and concrete
society that there was to be found the real fulfilment
of the highest aspirations or predictions of Hebrew
prophecy. For him the Christian Church was the
spiritual Israel Nor was the new and Catholic society
which was to succeed to the narrow Nation-churches of
the ancient world, a society which could dispense with
those fundamental institutions of old-world religion —
Temple, Priesthood, Sacrifice. The Church itself, the
society, was the true temple — the visible, material,
local, yet living, habitation (as it were) of Deity.
The whole of this society were Priests. And that
society of Priests absorbed into itself the religious
functions which everywhere in the old world, and
especially in ancient Israel, were shared by kings —
"a royal priesthood, a holy nation." Nor was the
temple without its sacrifice; for the external animal
sacrifices of the old ritual were but a faint counter-
part of the spiritual worship of the new society,
the uplifting of will and heart to God, especially
in the great act which the ancient Church called
the Eucharist or thanksgiving 'par excellence — itself
only a symbol or visible embodiment of the one

PRIESTHOOD 95

real and true sacrifice of the will to God in a holy
life.

Now, as in the Apostolic Age, the great antidote
to a false Sacerdotalism is the idea of the essential
Priesthood of all Christians. It is true that to us
this idea does not convey as much meaning as it
would to the original readers of this Epistle, Sur-
rounded on all sides by altars which still reeked with
the blood of victims literally slain by sacerdotal hands.
Yet we shall never be able to get rid of false ideas
about Priesthood, unless we can make this idea of the
Priesthood of all Christians mean something more to
us than the mere assertion that in Christianity there
are no Priests at alL For this idea of Priesthood
does still appeal to the imagination: we must find
out what there is in it which is attractive to the
highest minds if we would fight successfully against
the narrow caricatures and grotesque misapplications
to which it is liable. What then is really implied in
the idea of a Priest ? It is difficult to sum up in a
phrase all that is implied in so complex and so shift-
ing a conception; but perhaps we may lay it down
that in ordinary usage the three essential ideas con-
nected with Priesthood are — 1. Sacrifice or Worship ;
2. Mediation; 3. Service.

1. What then does our Epistle mean when it says
that all Christians are Priests ? I will try to translate
what I believe to be the essence of the idea into the
plainest possible language. Firstly, then, every Chris-
tian is a sacrifices For all worship — especially the

96 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

typical characteristic act of Christian worship called
the Eucharist or Holy Communion — is sacrifice, the
spiritual reality of which primitive sacrifice was but
a crude and coarse adumbration. I have not time
now to go fully into this question of the meaning
of sacrifice. Suffice it to say that I believe the
essential idea of sacrificial worship is communion, not
propitiation — the identification of our wills with
God's by definite spiritual effort as a means to the
identification of the will with God's Will in every act
and moment of our Uvea And this sacrifice of
worship, of which the Christian Eucharist forms the
highest act, must be looked upon as the act of the
whole Community. Every Christian must take his
part in it. It is not a thing that can be done for
one man by another, or rather in one sense it is
a thing that can and must be done by every man for
every other: since every prayer of the Christian is
social, offered by him not as an isolated individual
but as a member of the community, for the whole
community as well as for himself. But worship is
not a thing that can be left or abandoned to another.
A very obvious lesson, some may think! And yet
among those who are ready enough to rail at Sacer-
dotalism, are there not many who are quite contented
to put up with the idea of vicarious worship, to allow
their church-going, their Communions, their prayers, to
be practically done for them, at best in their presence, or
even it may be in their absence, provided only there is
reserved to the layman his one sacred right of criticism?

PRIESTHOOD 97

2. The Priest is a mediator. We are taught by
the New Testament that all members of the Christian
community are mediators. Now, here again, to say
that all are mediators is not the same thing as to say
that in Christianity there are no mediators. In
Christianity there are no mediators, if by mediation is
meant the existence of a special order of men without
whose assistance access to God is denied to the in-
dividual soul — a special order of men without whose
leave God cannot be revealed to man, or man
approach to God. And yet, nevertheless, it is pro-
foundly true that no man can approach to God
except through the help of his fellow-men. It is only
by entering into the social consciousness (as it were)
that the individual acquires any religious or moral
ideas whatever. No one of us would know anything
about God or about duty, but for what he learns from
his fellow-men. Conscience itself is in a sense the
creation of society, though it is none the less true that
society is the creation of individual consciences. And
it is not merely by teaching that one individual
may communicate to another the knowledge of God.
Man is a mediator of God to his fellow-men in a higher
sense than that. For the highest idea that we can form
of God is derived from what we know of man at his
best Thus what we call the mediation of Christ
is the supreme instance of a universal principle of the
religious life. By showing us Humanity at its highest,
Christ has been, and remains, the supreme Mediator
between God and man. That Christ is the great High
7

98 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

Priest is the leading idea of the Epistle to the Hebrews,
the idea on which the whole argument is based*
And it is only through the Christian community that
the individual can enter into this knowledge of Christ
which is the knowledge of God — only through the
tradition of Christian teaching handed down by the
community, through the religious life which pervades
it, through the ideal which is more or less perfectly
realised in its corporate life and in the life of some
at least among its individual members. Thus it is
no platitude to say that every Christian is bound to
be a Priest: for to say that he is a Priest, means
that he is bound to take a part in this great task of
revealing God to his fellow - men, by word and by
deed, by the ideal that he proclaims with his lips
and cherishes in his heart and sets forth in his life ;
by contributing to the creation of a Christian public
opinion, and by impressing and (so far as may be) en-
forcing that opinion upon the whole Society in which
he lives, and so taking his part in the Church's funda-
mental task of binding and loosing. It is of the
essence of all true communion with God to diffuse
itself to other men. A very different thing this from
the cold negation — the Christian can dispense with
Priests !

3. There remains the idea of Service. The Priest
is one who is bound in a special and peculiar sense
to the service of his fellow-men. No doubt this side
of Priesthood is a conception so purely ethical that it
can hardly be said to be very prominent in the early

PRIESTHOOD 99

and cruder form of Priesthood as it existed in very
primitive human societies, except in so far as the
Priest was a person who had special powers of doing
things for his fellow-man which he could not do for
himself — approaching the god, revealing his will,
helping men to find their lost property, and so on.
But it is found in connection with the Priesthood of
all higher religions. And under the influence of Chris-
tianity, even when the conception of Priesthood is
still largely coloured by the older Jewish, or even the
pagan idea of it, the service of one's fellow-men, —
general spiritual service, as one may call it, apart from
the specialised service of some particular profession or
calling, — has come to be more and more an essential
element in the idea of priesthood. It is this that makes
the ideal of the priestly life attractive to so many of
the highest minds. We feel that Sacerdotalism has
ceased to be a very formidable or dangerous idea,
when the most recent of its more learned champions,
Canon Moberly, in his elaborate work on Ministerial
Priesthood, — amid many things that seem to savour of
the old, narrow, mechanical, materialistic view, — tells
us that "the inwardness of Priesthood is the spirit
of Sacrifice, and the spirit of Sacrifice is the spirit
of love." l Only, when thus interpreted, it needs no
showing that this is a Priesthood to which all Chris-
tians are called. The command, " By love serve one
another," surely was not addressed to the clergy alone !
The New Testament docrine of the universal Priest-

1 Ministerial Priesthood, p. 260.

ioo CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

hood of Christians is after all (in its highest meaning)
only an assertion of the essence of Christian Ethics,
the law of mutual service.

So far, then, all Christians are Priests ; for all are
bound to take part in Christian Worship; all are
bound to be mediators between God and their fellow-
men, i.e. to reveal God to their fellows by word
and life, and to be the means of bringing them to
God; all are bound to the law of mutual love or
service in spiritual as in other ways. To all these
duties every Christian is called ; to all these privileges
and prerogatives every Christian is entitled. But are
they all called to these things in the same way or to
precisely the same degree ? All are called upon to
worship, but not all can conveniently take the same
part in worship. Worship requires organisation and
leadership ; and some of its functions require leisure,
training, and other qualifications which are not uni-
versal. It is the duty and the privilege of every
Christian to reveal God to his fellow-men, to take
his part in the religious and moral life of that whole
Society whose business it is to bring God to men and
men to God. All can, all ought to take some part
in this great work ; but not all can take the same
part. Of course the moral qualities which most fully
reveal God to man may be and ought to be exhibited
in all relations and functions of human life ; but the
qualities of heart and head, the particular training
and experience required for the communication of
religious knowledge, the awakening of consciences, the

PRIESTHOOD 101

calling forth of Christian enthusiasm — these things
cannot be possessed by all equally. And still more,
even among those who possess these gifts to the
highest degree, the actual conditions of human life re-
quire many men to be serving the community in wayB
which prevent them from devoting the bulk of their
time to the service of the Christian community in this
particular manner. But I need not spend time in
defending the principle of a special Christian ministry,
which has commended itself at almost all times to the
common sense of almost all Christian communities,
or I might even say of all Christian communities,
for it is only to the idea of a salaried or professional
Ministry that the Society of Friends objects. But this
idea of a Christian Ministry, when brought into con-
nection with the Universal Priesthood of Christians,
really carries with it the idea of a special Priesthood
in the sense which ought, I think, to satisfy thoughtful
High Churchmen. The idea of the universal Priest-
hood of Christians is quite compatible with the idea of
an Order or Orders of men specially devoted to the
exercise in special ways of the functions and prerogat-
ives which are inherent in the whole Christian Society
as such. In the Christian Society there can be no
vicarious or exclusive Priesthood, but there may be a
representative Priesthood.

And it is surely a great, an ennobling, and an
inspiring conception — this of an order of men released
from the, I will not say worldly or unspiritual,
but the less directly spiritual, and for the mass of

io2 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

men largely mechanical functions in which the neces-
sities of human life require most people to spend the
bulk of their time, for the special promotion of those
common spiritual purposes for which the Christian
Society exists, and in which every Christian, in so
far as he is a Christian, is interested up to the level
of his capacities and opportunity, — a special order
invested with the authority of the whole community,
and set apart by them to represent them ceremonially
in worship, educationally in teaching, and practically
in those general social functions of mercy and charity,
of moral elevation and enlightenment, which are the
business of no special profession, and in which the
voluntary efforts of the general community require
guidance and assistance.

We shall never fight successfully against the false
Sacerdotalism except by opposing to it a true Sacer-
dotalism. For every man whose profession or office
is anything more to him than a means of making
money, it is desirable that he should idealise his own
profession, that he should have the highest and live-
liest sense of the value and importance of its special
contribution to the life of the whole Society. To the
Christian Presbyter this is a spiritual necessity. We
may safely put as high as we like the privileges, the
opportunities, the dignity — nay, in a sense the author-
ity of the Christian Priesthood — if we will only bear
in mind two things — (1) that all these prerogatives
belong to the Priest only in so far as he succeeds in
living up to the ideal of Priesthood transmitted to us by

PRIESTHOOD 103

Christ Himself, only in so far as he actually is all the
things that the true Priest ought to be ; and (2) that
his prerogatives only belong to him as the represent-
ative, the delegate, the organ of the whole Christian
Society. It is as the representative of the whole
Society that he claims the leadership in its worship,
that he speaks to men in the name of God and to
God in the name of men, that he presides over the
corporate activities of the community, that he admits
or (if need be) refuses to admit to the Sacrament of
Christian initiation and the Sacrament of Christian
fellowship.

How far and in what sense the administration of
the sacraments or of any other rite is absolutely
reserved to the Christian Ministry, and to any
particular order in it, is comparatively speaking a
minor question, and one which I do not propose to
discuss at length to-day. If the view I have taken
of the Christian Ministry be the true one, it can
scarcely be contended that there is any inherent,
necessary, ethical limitation (say) of the power of
Ordination to the Bishop or of consecrating the Holy
Eucharist to the Presbyter ; but to say this of course
in no way interferes with the reasonableness of such
restrictions as the Church may as a matter of order
and discipline have imposed upon the exercise of these
functions, with the wisdom of adhering as closely as
we can to the traditional polity of the Church, or with
the paramount duty of respecting the rules and in-
stitutions of the Christian Church at large, and

104 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

especially of the particular branch of it to which we
belong. In secular matters we have long ago learned
to distinguish between the divine right of Kings and
the divine right of Government in general. In the
Church, too, the speculative admission that some
features of an existing Church constitution might
possibly be different from what they are, may surely
be made without diminishing from the essential prin-
ciple of the divine authority vested in the Christian
Ecclesia, and of the duty of a reverent submission,
on the part both of Priest and layman, to the dis-
cipline and the institutions which represent the mind
of the whole Society.

Possibly this question of the position of the clergy
may seem to you a rather speculative matter, without
much interest or importance for the ordinary layman.
Let me therefore try to give a practical application
to what I have been saying.

1. You know how pressing is the question of
keeping up the duo supply of candidates for holy
orders — a due supply in respect of both quantity
and quality. And this is quite as much a layman's
question as a clergyman's question. Every clergy-
man was a layman before he was a clergyman; and
the willingness of able, sensible, and well-educated
men to take orders depends very much upon the
estimate of the clerical office or profession which is
prevalent among laymen. I would say, therefore,
" Do not let the irritation or annoyance which you
may sometimes feel at the silly utterances or ex-

PRIESTHOOD 105

travagant sacerdotal assumptions of some foolish
clergyman lead you to adopt a disparaging or con-
temptuous tone towards the clerical office in general. 1 '
Do not hinder, but rather encourage and help forward
a son, or a brother, or a friend who feels any inclina-
tion to take upon him the clerical office. There is no
age of the world's history in which greater opportun-
ities are open to a liberal-minded clergyman, though
it must be confessed there are many obstacles to be
overcome and many adversaries to be encountered.

2. We must strive for the restoration of the
laity to their true position in the Church. It
seems to me that it must be a condition of any
effective reform in other ways, that the Church
should have its own Assembly — in which, without
any interference with the supreme control of Parlia-
ment, her system and formularies and rules may be
from time to time modified in accordance with the
needs of the age, and in which the real mind of the
modern, working Church may find expression. 1

3. But the very last thing I would wish to
suggest, as the practical outcome of what I have
said, is the idea that you must wait for any

1 See the Admirable volume of Essays in aid of Church Reform,
edited by Bishop Gore, which contains a learned historical vindication
by Mr. Rackham of the ancient right of the laity to take part in all
kinds of Church Assembly, even in dealing with matters of doctrine.
It is not easy to exaggerate the difference of tone on this subject be-
tween the moderate High Church School and the old Tractarians.
The prominence of the laity in ancient Church Assemblies is also well
brought out by the late Archbishop Benson in his work on Cyprian,
his Life, his Times, his Work.

io6 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

change of external machinery before you assert your
privilege and exercise your functions as members
of the priestly Society of all Christian people. It is
a most important part of that function that you
should take an interest in the corporate work of
the Church, should help it forward by personal work
and by money contributions in whatever ways you
can. But, as I have tried to suggest, it is not only
in that sense that you are called upon to be Priests.
The life of Christian Brotherhood may be realised in
the work of a profession done heartily and honestly
as a service to one's fellow-men, in the charities of
private and family life, in the active and energetic
discharge of citizen duties. It is in all these spheres,
as well as in the activities more closely connected
with the visible and organised Christian Society, that
the Christian is called upon (each in his own way) to
realise his true position as a member of that Christian
Church which is essentially a Society of Priests.

VIII.
APOSTOLICAL SUCCESSION.

iar

*' Thrn the dtfiplr^ tvrr\ iiiaii a* curling U> hi* alnlitT, deter*
tinned tti tend relief unto thr Irrthrrn whirh dwelt ID JoLvm
wtinh a1«> the> dil, and «rnt it to thr rMrn hr lfe« hftad* of
Karn«l«a and SaiiI "- Am u *:», »>.

VIII.
APOSTOLICAL SUCCESSION.

I TRIED in previous sermons to suggest that the
true conception of the Christian Minister is that
of representation — that is, one specially set apart for
the exercise of functions and prerogatives which are
in their essence the functions and prerogatives of
the whole Christian Society or JScclesia, Our Lord
did not, I tried to show, bequeath to His Church
any stereotyped pattern of ecclesiastical government
or organisation. But if His Church was to be
all that He intended it to be, it was essential, of
course, that there should be some government or
organisation, and the germs of such a government
were no doubt contained in His selection of the
Twelve 1 as His immediate companions and instru-
ments in carrying out His great task — the setting
up of the Kingdom of God among men. But He
did not contemplate any hard and fast, essential or
eternal, difference between clergy and laity: it was

1 It ib, of course, possible that "the Twelve" may have beeii more

sharply marked off from other disciples by later tradition than they

were in actual fact daring the continuance of their Master's own

Ministry.

109

no CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

left to the Church herself to develop her own
organisation, and to modify it as might be demanded
by the changing circumstances of time and place.
I propose this morning to glance at the first steps
of this development as it took place in actual
history, and to see whether it does or does not
confirm the conclusion which we have arrived at by
an examination of the teaching of our Lord Himself.

I will not ask whether the origin of the Diaconate
is or is not to be found in the appointment of the
seven Charity Commissioners, with Stephen at their
head, to superintend the relief of the widows and
orphans. It may be that we have in this episode
the origin of the Diaconate, but the Seven are never
called Deacons in the New Testament. They may
quite as probably have been the first Christian
Presbyters, or their office may be regarded as a
purely temporary and local institution, which passed
away with the further development of the Church's
organisation. However that may be, the incident
recorded in the words of my text contains the first
allusion in Christian history to a distinct Order or
College of Elders or Presbyters. 1 They are intro-
duced without any account of their institution or
any explanation of their office. And to a Jew such
a position would require no explanation. Every

1 As historical evidence for the existence of Presbyters the allusions
in St Paul's Epistles are of course earlier and more certainly trust-
worthy, but there is no improbability in the existence of such a body
at Jerusalem at this time.

APOSTOLICAL SUCCESSION in

Jewish Synagogue was managed and governed by a
body of elders. It would be a matter of course
that when the little Christian Society, without de-
serting altogether the national and mainly ceremonial
worship of the Temple, began to have its separate
meetings for prayer and reading the Scriptures, for
distinctively Christian exhortation and celebration
of the distinctively Christian Eucharist, it should
organise itself after the manner of a Jewish syna-
gogue. It was just as much a matter of course
that a new religious Society should have its Elders,
as that a modern Society for a religious or any other
purpose should elect a Committee and a Secretary.

To the Jew the term Elder required no explanation.
But it was otherwise with the Gentiles. And when
St Paul, on his missionary journeys, began organizing
the little Christian communities which he founded,
after the model of the Mother Church at Jerusalem,
by appointing Elders in every city, a Greek term
was wanted to denote the unfamiliar office. This
need was served by the word iwta/coTros, Bishop,
overseer. The term was used, like the English word
Superintendent, to denote a great variety of offices,
notably the Treasurers or Wardens of a Temple, or
the elected officers of a Guild or Confraternity,
whether of a religious or of a purely social char-
acter. To the Jew the Christian Church naturally
presented itself as a new synagogue; to the Gentile,
as a new kind of Guild or Confraternity. It has
long been generally admitted by Theologians of all

ii2 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

opinions, that in the New Testament, if the term
Bishop and the term Presbyter are not absolutely
identical in meaning, they are at least applied to
the same persons. It is possible (though I do not
know that it is necessary to suppose it) that the
term Presbyter was more widely applied than the
term Bishop. But, at all events, it is certain that
in the New Testament we find a plurality of Bishops,
who are also called Presbyters or Elders, in each
Church : there is no trace of the single or monarchical
Episcopate. Almost the only solid ground for sup-
posing that there was some difference between the
usage of the two terms, is that wherever the body
of subordinate assistants called Deacons are men-
tioned, they are associated with Bishops, never with
Presbyters ; we hear of Bishops and Deacons, never
of Presbyters and Deacons : so that it is just possible
that at first — though this state of things cannot have
lasted long — the vaguer term Presbyter covered both
the Bishops and the Deacons.

Thus, when St. Paul sends for the elders of Ephesus
to take leave of him at Miletus, he speaks of them as
Bishops; 1 in his Epistle to the Philippians he greets
the Bishops and Deacons (without any mention of
Presbyters). The First Epistle to Timothy contains
an elaborate statement of the qualifications of Bishops
and Deacons, while later on in the Epistle Presbyters
or Elders are mentioned.

1 Acta zx. 17. This passage, taken by itself, of coarse favours the
absolute identification of Bishops and Presbyters.

APOSTOLICAL SUCCESSION 113

Amazing is the contrast when we turn from the
pages of the New Testament to the Seven Letters of
Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch, which (since the great
work of Bishop Lightfoot) we may assume to be, in
their earlier form, of indisputable genuineness, and to
belong certainly to the beginning of the second century,
possibly to about the year 110 A.D. The letters
abound in strong assertions of episcopal authority:
" Do nothing without the Bishop." All are to follow
the Bishop, as Jesus Christ followed the Father. " It
is good to know God and the Bishop," and so on.

It is likely enough that the ascendancy which
we find James the brother of the Lord exercising
de facto over the Presbyters and Church of Jerusalem,
may help to explain the extraordinarily rapid evolution
of the presiding Presbyter into something not unlike
the Bishop as we know him in later times. And
it is tempting to assume that an institution which,
at Antioch and in Asia Minor, was fully grown by
110 A.D., must have received the sanction of the
Apostles, at least of the Apostle St. John in his old
age at Ephesus. 1 But we ought surely to be very
careful about unchurching other Churches on the
strength of what is, after all, merely a pious pre-
sumption. And then there is a very great differ-
ence between sanctioning the appointment of a per-
manent President of the Presbyterial College, and

1 The grounds on which M. Reville (J&us de Nazareth, i. p. 354)
doubts the residence of St. John at Ephesus do not seem very
convincing.

8

ii 4 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

saying that such an institution was an essential part of
the organisation of any and every Christian Church,
or insisting that no Presbyter should be considered
to be a Presbyter unless he could trace his descent
by laying on of hands, without break or intermis-
sion, to a Bishop who was ordained by the Apostles
themselves. Of this last notion there is not a trace
for some centuries after the time of the Apostles.
Moreover, there are two points to be noticed before
we can assume that the form of government which
we find in the Ignatian Letters, — the hierarchy of
Bishops, Priests, and Deacons, — however convenient,
venerable, and desirable, is absolutely binding on the
Church of all times.

1. In the first place, we have but a very incom-
plete picture of the Apostolic Church when we treat
its Ministry as consisting of the Apostles themselves,
the Presbyter-Bishops, and the Deacons. We hear of
several other offices or functions in the early Church
besides these three — those of the Evangelist (the office
apparently held by Timothy at Ephesus), the Prophet,
and the Teacher. Even if we identify the " Teachers "
with the Presbyters, we still have the Evangelists, and
above all the Prophets. If you read carefully the
New Testament Epistles, and that very early Christian
writing known as the Didachd or "Teaching of the
Twelve Apostles," you will see that the Prophets
were by far the most prominent and important order
of the Christian Ministry in Apostolic and sub-
Apostolic times. They are usually mentioned next

APOSTOLICAL SUCCESSION 115

to Apostles. 1 It was the Prophets with the Teachers
who laid hands on St Paul at Antioch when he
started on his mission to the Gentiles. 2 They were
the Missionaries who went about devoting the bulk
of their time to the preaching of Christianity; the
Bishops constituted a local committee, whose primary
business was government, discipline, management of
Church funds, rather than the conduct of worship and
religious teaching, though they certainly performed
these last functions in the absence of an Apostle or
Prophet. But when the Prophet appears, the mere
Bishop gives way. The Prophet is to receive tithes,
but not so the Bishop. It is thought a compliment
to say that the Bishop too does in his way perform
the functions of the Prophet. The " Teaching of the
Twelve Apostles " contains a very beautiful form of
prayer intended to be used by the less gifted Bishop in
consecrating the Holy Eucharist; but it is assumed
that the Prophet, who could pray extempore, will need
no such assistance. When the Prophet is present, he
and not the Presbyter celebrates, and he is to be
allowed to "eucharise" or give thanks at whatever
length he pleases. 8

1 1 Cor. xii. 28 ; Eph. iii. 5, iv. 11. Cf. Acts xi. 27, xv. 32,
xxi. 10.

* Acts xiii. 1.

* Toei W xpo^rcus iirtTpiiccTt €^x a P iffT€ ^ & ffa OiXovcriv, Didache 10.
The date of the Didache* or "Teaching of the Twelve Arties" is
disputed. By Bishop Lightfoot it was placed at the end of the first
century. Many critics, disliking the light which it throws upon the
original organisation of the Church rule, put it as late as possible ;
bat a later date will do little to discredit its value as evidence for

n6 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

Thus, even if we accepted the Apostolic origin of
the Presbyterate and the Episcopate, we should have
to admit that the Church has widely departed from
I the Apostolic organisation. If a Church which has
got rid of Prophets may remain a true Church
of Christ, so may a Church which has got rid of
Bishops.

2. And then, secondly, it is to be observed that
the rapidity with which the monarchical Episcopate
developed itself was very different in different parts of
the world. In Syria and in Asia Minor the develop-
ment was rapid ; in Borne and the West less rapid ; in
Greece more gradual still. Side by side with the fully
episcopal Churches like Antioch and Ephesus, there
long continued to exist what we may call semi-
episcopal Churches — notably the Church of Borne,
where a presiding Presbyter had a fairly prominent
position but no distinctive name ; and wholly Presby-
terian Churches like Corinth and Philippi In Poly-
carp's letter to Philippi, we hear much of Presbyters
and Deacons, not a word about a single Bishop : nor
again, in the letter of Clement, himself presiding
Presbyter of Borne, to the Corinthians, the main
object of which is to enforce respect for the authority
of the Elders. And yet he must have mentioned a
Bishop had there been one. Episcopacy would have
been the very remedy for the disorders which he

the earliest post-Apostolic ago, since tho state of things which it
reveals can in that case only be explained as a local survival of much
earlier conditions.

APOSTOLICAL SUCCESSION 117

rebukes. Thus, long after the time of the Apostles, we
see episcopal and non-episcopal communities existing
side by side, yet each recognising the other as true
Churches of Christ, intercommunicating with each
other without the slightest suggestion that a non-
episcopal body, however great the practical desir-
ability of a single head, lacked any essential note of a
true Christian Church. Doubtless the development
of the Episcopate has had a great and beneficent
effect in strengthening Church order and discipline,
promoting and keeping up historical and doctrinal
continuity, facilitating communication and union be-
tween isolated Christian communities, and so on. Yet,
alter all, in face of these facts, can we regard it as
anything but an ecclesiastical institution ? Dare we
say that a Church ceases to be a Church because, like
the Church of Scotland or the Protestant Churches of
the Continent, it has chosen to revert to the simpler
organisation of Apostolic or post- Apostolic times ?

That we cannot trace a distinct order of Bishops
right back without interruption to the time of the
Apostles in all parts of the Christian world, is now
generally admitted by scholarly theologians. And
if Episcopacy was not regarded as essential by the
Apostles and their contemporaries, by what right
can we deny that unepiscopal bodies may be true
Churches or their Presbyters true Presbyters ?

But there are two ways of evading the natural
inference from the admitted historical facts. (1) It
may be asserted that the first Presbyter-Bishops

n8 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

ordained by the Apostles were not what we call
Presbyters, but what we call Bishops, — that the
first recipients of ordination at the Apostles' hands
received a full commission to exercise all the func-
tions of the Ministry, but that afterwards a dis-
tinction was made. One man received the whole
ministerial commission, including the power of ordain-
ing; while others were simply ordained Presbyters
without this supreme right, so that the principle
of the Apostolical Succession was still kept up, — the
principle that spiritual authority comes not from
below but from above, that no man may exercise
any ecclesiastical function without having received
authority to do so from one who had in like manner
received it from one who could trace back his own
ordaining power to the Apostles themselves. 1 To this
I would say that the theory is at variance with all
the facts as far as we know them. It was not the
individual Presbyter but the whole College which
exercised the authority of the later Bishop— including
the power of ordaining. The theory implies, further,
that at a definite moment it was decided to ordain no
more Presbyter-Bishops, but only one Bishop and a
number of Presbyters, whereas the historical facts
make it plain that Presbyters passed into Episcopacy
by a gradual and probably almost unconscious evolu-
tion, and not at any one definite moment. In all
probability it was not till long after the establishment

1 This is the suggestion of Bishop Gore, T)u Church and the
Ministry (1889), p. 334.

APOSTOLICAL SUCCESSION 119

of Episcopacy that the newly - elected Bishop, if
already a Presbyter, received any fresh ordination by
laying on of hands. And to the last there were
many traces left of the original position of the Bishop
as merely primus inter pares. To this day, in the
whole Western Church — the Church of Borne as
well as the Church of England — all the Priests
present unite with the Bishop in laying hands upon the
candidate for Priest's orders ; and it is not generally
known that by the Canons of the Church of England
a Bishop is positively forbidden to ordain without
the assistance of at least three Presbyters, who are to
assist in the examination of the candidates as well as
take part in the ritual act of Ordination. 1

(2) Another way of evading the consequences of the
admitted results of modern research as to the develop-
ment of the Episcopate, is to say that, though originally
Episcopacy was not necessary in the time of the
Apostles, it has become necessary, become a part of the
jure divino ecclesiastical organisation by the authority of
the Church. But if all actual spiritual developments
of Church organisation acquire in time ecumenical
validity, so that no single national Church can ever
give up what the general consensus of Christendom has
once accepted, what becomes of our own case against
the claims of the Papacy ? Or, if we plead that
the supremacy of Rome was never accepted by the
Greeks, then how can we do without the sub-diaconate,
which was at one time quite as universal a feature of

1 Canon xxxv. (1603).

120 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

Church organisation as the Episcopate? However
strongly we may regret that some of the Churches at
the Reformation should have been obliged by circum-
stances, or thought themselves obliged, to abandon
Episcopacy, how can we dare to proclaim that these
Churches are no Churches, when they possess exactly
the same order which the Church of Corinth possessed
when it was organised by St. Paul, and when it
received the recognition and approval of Clement,
Bishop of Borne?

It is not often well to speak from the pulpit about
such highly controversial matters. But this question
of the Apostolical Succession has after all some
practical bearings, and I have chosen to speak of it
this morning for three reasons :

1. It is just because that idea of the Church, which
the Oxford movement has restored to its due pro-
minence in the thoughts of Christians, is absolutely
essential to a due understanding of Christianity —
because it is an absolutely essential element of Christian
Morality in its most severely practical applications —
that I do regard' it as a matter of really pressing,
practical, spiritual importance to disconnect a high
appreciation of the claims of the Christian Church,
and of the clergy as the officers and organs of the
whole Christian Society, from those mechanical ideas
of God's dealings with men which are fostered by the
doctrine that the Apostolic Succession is of absolute
necessity to the existence of a true Church of Christ.

2. This matter is of real practical importance,

APOSTOLICAL SUCCESSION 121

because it affects our duty as individuals, and the
duty of the Church to which we belong, towards other
Churches and their individual members. I believe
that the doctrine of the Apostolical Succession is one
which it is right to preach against, because it is an
obstacle to Christian Unity and Christian Charity.
I do not mean to say that individuals who hold this
doctrine, and the notions that are founded on it, are
necessarily wanting in personal charity towards the
members and Ministers of non-episcopal Churches.
Happily there may be much unity and co-operation
among Christians without formal ecclesiastical re-
cognition and intercommunion. But surely it cannot
be denied that ecclesiastical divisions do promote
breaches of Christian charity, that the prevalence of
this doctrine among us is one great cause of the
hostility of Nonconformists to our Church, and that
it hinders friendly intercourse with the Scotch and
foreign Protestant Churches. We ought not surely
to commit ourselves to a doctrine which has these
results unless we are very certain of our ground. Is
it not enough to say with Hooker that Episcopacy —
if only on the ground of precedent, tradition, and
historical continuity — is of the " well-being " of the
Church, without belonging to its " being " ? We may
value Episcopacy as connecting us with the past, and
with the episcopal Churches of East and West, with-
out allowing its absence to separate us from Churches
with which we have really so much more in common.
May we not be content with being as High Church-

122 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

men as Bishop Cosin, and other seventeenth-century
divines, who had no scruples about communicating
with the unepiscopal Churches of the Continent?

3. There is yet another way in which this matter
has a practical bearing. We rightly at the present
day feel a disinclination for theological controversy.
We feel a reluctance to attack or even to proclaim
very openly our dissent from the cherished beliefs of
our fellow-Churchmen. We feel (if we may adapt
a saying of St. Paul's) that " controversy puffeth up,
but love edifieth." Now, on the whole this spirit
represents a real growth of Christian feeling. But is
it not just possible that this dislike of controversy,
which characterises so many of our moderate Church-
men, may be pushed to a point at which the paramount
claims of truth are altogether forgotten ? Reverence
for truth is after all a moral matter ; it is an essential
part of the Christian character. It is morally wrong
to go on asserting doctrines which we have no ground
for believing to be true. There are times when it
is a duty to refuse — even by silent acquiescence — to
encourage the growth of what seem to us false and
groundless opinions on matters of religion, even where
they seem to have little direct bearing upon individual
life and conduct. And that is especially so when
the opinion is one which is apt (to say the least of it)
to encourage unworthy views of the divine character,
and a poor, mechanical, materialistic conception of
that moral or mystical union between God and His
Church which is so essential an element in the

APOSTOLICAL SUCCESSION

123

Christian creed. Most of all should we seek to clear
our minds of theories which (if they are true) require
us to put outside the pale of the Christian Church
large numbers of persons whom we should otherwise
regard not merely as fellow-Christians, but as fellow-
Churchmen, and large societies of Christians whom
we should otherwise be able to consider as branches,
it may be more or less erring branches, it may be
imperfectly organised branches, it may be in some
cases unnecessarily separated or schismatical branches,
but still as true and living branches of the one Church
which is in union with Christ her Head.

IX.

THE SOCIAL MISSION OF THE

CHURCH.

186

" A bishop then must be blameless, the husband of one wife,
vigilant, sober, of good behaviour, given to hospitality, apt to
teach ; not given to wine, no striker, not greedy of filthy lucre ;
but patient, not a brawler, not covetous ; one that ruleth well his
own house, having his children in subjection with all gravity ;
(for if a man know not how to rule his own house, how shall
he take care of the church of God ? ")•— 1 Tim. iii. 2-6.

196

IX.
THE SOCIAL MISSION OF THE CHURCH.

ST. PAUL l is here describing the qualifications of
the Presbyter - Bishops of the early Church.
He is writing at a time when the single Bishop has
not yet emerged out of the ancient College of Pres-
byters, and when the members of this College were
known indifferently by the name of Presbyters (elders)
or Bishops (overseers). 2 I want this morning to direct
your attention to a single point in this catalogue of
episcopal or priestly qualifications. The qualifications
insisted upon seem to be chiefly those required for
ruling and for the administration of Church funds,
rather than for preaching, or leadership in worship,
or the performance of ritual acts. The work of
preaching — at least in that form of it which was
called in the early Church Prophecy — was the task

1 The objections which have been urged against the genuineness
of the Pastoral Epistles are far more substantial than those raised
against other of the Pauline Epistles ; but they do not appear to me
to be conclusive. There is perhaps a balance of critical opinion
against them ; but many writers who deny the genuineness of the
Epistles as they stand, admit that they embody fragments of
genuinely Pauline letters. They are here used merely as supplying a
picture of Church life at a very early period.

9 See, however, above, p. 112.

1S7

128 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

of the Prophets — that is, probably of all who were
recognised as possessing the gift of the Spirit

The Presbyters were already beginning at least
to share the function of teaching, and no doubt in
the absence of a recognised Prophet presided at the
celebration of the Eucharist and other worship of the
community. 1 But the primary business of the Pres-
byters was ruling and administration of funds. They
were the office-bearers of the Society, elected by the
whole community, and constantly, no doubt, acting
under its general guidance and direction. But still
theirs was the primary responsibility for enforcing the
discipline of the Society — for admitting new mem-
bers by Baptism after due preparation and probation,
for conducting communications with other Churches
and offering hospitality to their envoys or other
travelling Christians, for administering the charitable
funds of the Society with the assistance of the
Deacons. The Christian Ecclesia or Church in those
days was much more than a Society of men professing
the same theological opinions and meeting once a
week to listen to a preacher who shared those
opinions: nobody could possibly in those days have
made that mistake about it. Faith in Jesus Christ as
the supreme Bevealer of the One God was the source
of all its inspiration and the basis of its corporate
unity ; worship and participation in the sacrament of
brotherhood were the great sustainers of that inspira-
tion and that unity. But the Church was primarily

1 See above, p. 116, note.

THE SOCIAL MISSION OF THE CHURCH 129

a society for the practice of the Christian life. It
formed a compact, organised, highly - disciplined
Society for the maintenance of Christian rules of
life among its members, and in its corporate capacity
it sought to put into force its supreme principle of
brotherhood by collecting large sums of money and
applying them to the relief of widows and orphans,
sick and aged. A casual observer would have been
more likely to make the mistake of seeing in the
Christian Church nothing but a huge charitable guild
or Mutual Assurance Society, than the opposite mis-
take of seeing in it nothing but a new school of
opinion or a new ritual cult. It is well known that
the Christian Churches obtained their first recognition
as legal corporations in their capacity of Burial
Clubs.

And this feature of the Christian Society was no
mere accident — no mere temporary phase of its
existence — due to its position as a society of believers
in an alien cult surrounded by a hostile pagan world.
It was a necessary element in the working out of its
Founder's fundamental ideas. Without some such
organisation, His conception of what His followers
were to be could not have been carried out. They
were to be a society of men who believed in, and were
striving to realise, the principle of human brotherhood
— the principle that there is an essential value in
every human soul and every human life. In other
words, the Christian Church was a society for bringing
about the coming of the Kingdom of God, for the
9

130 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

realisation among men of a certain ideal of social life,
and for the diffusion of that ideal throughout the
world. True, the Kingdom of God was not meat and
drink. It was not primarily concerned with the
satisfaction of bodily wants or the promotion of
animal enjoyment ; but it was and is very much
concerned with social justice and equity. Treating
another man as a brother means, no doubt, a great
deal more than giving him enough to eat and drink ;
but it does mean trying — so far as the complexities
and the imperfections of human society will allow —
to bring about a state of things in which no one shall
be without meat and drink except through his own
fault. The Kingdom of God and His righteousness
must be the first thing. But a society in which
everyone did really seek first the Kingdom of His
righteousness would necessarily be a society in which
the other things — the things necessary to the lower
life — would be added to them. Nobody could perish
for hunger, or be compelled to labour for an in-
adequate wage, or die in a cheerless workhouse, if
every one of us really did regard his neighbour's good
as no less important than his own. As to what social
justice really is, as to what is the ideal of a human
society in its economic and industrial aspects, and still
more as to how that ideal should be brought about,
there is room for the widest differences of opinion
among Christian people. Among all sensible Chris-
tians, it is, of course, recognised that Society can only
advance to this ideal by slow and gradual stages, and

THE SOCIAL MISSION OF THE CHURCH 131

that in the process to it many social arrangements which
are in themselves harsh and unjust, un-Christian and
undesirable, must be put up with for fear of worse
evils. But no one can have, as it appears to me, a
true conception of the nature of the Christian Church
who does not recognise as an essential part this its
social mission.

Those who are most disposed to limit the province
of the Church and of the clergy to purely spiritual
matters, will surely admit that to give to all whom
one employs that which is just and equal is the most
elementary principle of personal Christian morality;
and yet nobody can really in these days decide what
it is just and equal to give to those who serve us, or
how it is possible to secure it to them, without facing
great social problems, and taking his part, so far as his
opportunities go, in bringing about a solution of them.

The inadequate recognition of this social side of
the Church's work was one of the weak points of the
Oxford movement. The individualism of its parent
Evangelicalism still clave to it. Its leaders did indeed
recognise the importance of the Christian Society as
the instrument of individual salvation. But they still
looked upon the Church too exclusively as the pre-
server of a dogmatic tradition, the guide of individual
souls, the dispenser of the sacraments by which the
individual religious life was sustained. Their great
work was the revival of the devotional life, and of
practical Christianity in its application to individual
conduct. In their conception of individual conduct

132 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

the duty of giving alms to the poor, of course, occupied
a prominent place. The writings of Dr. PuBey, for
instance, are full of strong things about the perilous-
iie86 of riches and the duty of Almsgiving; and it
is needless to say how splendidly he practised what he
preached. But, speaking generally, the minds of the
Oxford leaders were too much pre-occupied with the
interests of dogma and of devotion to think very
much about the application of Christian principles to
large questions of social or national policy. To call
attention to this side of the Church's duty has been
the work in part of the group of men of whom
Maurice was the centre ; and in part of the much-
despised Nonconformist Conscience, which, though
never tired of proclaiming its dogmatic objection to
the interference of the State in spiritual matters,
has seldom failed in practice (when it could do
so without encouraging the accursed institution of
an Established Church) to prove nobly inconsistent
with its own theory, and to contend for the applica-
tion of Christian principles to questions of politics and
national life. This aspect of the Church's work is
now beginning — though only just beginning — to
secure general recognition in all Churches, in all
schools, among Christian men of all politics, and not
least among the spiritual descendants of the Oxford
Tractarians. The greatest hope that one can see of
theological peace and a better practical understanding
in the future among men of different ecclesiastical
views lies, I think, in the increasing recognition of

THE SOCIAL MISSION OF THE CHURCH 133

the principle that the primary and most important
business of the Church is not the definition of dogma
or the practice of a cult, but the application of the
fundamental ideas of Christ, not only to individual
conduct, but to the public life of a Christian Society.

The ways and means by which the Christian
Society may bring its influence to bear on practical
life must, of course, vary with the circumstances of
time and place. Unquestionably an enormous change
has been introduced into the relations between the
Church and the surrounding society through the
nominal — though it be but nominal — acceptance of
Christianity by the bulk of the community. Many
functions which were once discharged by the Christian
body through its official organisation — the work of
education, the relief of the poor, the care of the aged,
and bo on — may often now be best discharged by the
State, or be left to private societies not officially and
organically connected with any particular religious body.
The Church never does its work better than when it
can communicate its spirit to the action of the State,
and get its rules of life — its charity to the aged poor, or
its condemnation of dishonest trade — embodied in the
legislation of a Christian country. But then, on the
other hand, a Christian Society of the present day
ought to aim at many things which it was simply
impossible to attempt when the Christian community
was a mere despised section of a pagan and despotic-
ally governed empire. Then it could do little but
relieve distress when it had arisen, and alleviate some

134 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

of the evils due to the defective social organisation of
the time. Now, surely, it is the duty of Christians
not merely to relieve sickness, but to prevent sickness.
It is mere hypocrisy for a society of men to recognise
as a Christian duty the relief of the typhoid-smitten
poor, and to treat the consideration of drainage and
sanitation by which fever may be prevented as a
purely secular affair, with which neither the Christian
Society nor the individual Christian as such has any-
thing whatever to do. And it is not merely to sick-
ness, but to unmerited poverty that we ought to apply
the simple principle that prevention is better than
cure. It is not merely Philanthropy, but Justice, that
it is the Church's social mission to preach, — Justice as
between class and class, between employer and em-
ployed, between rich and poor. What social justice
is, it is a hard thing to Bay ; how to bring it about is
a still harder, a still more appalling problem. Almost
any conceivable attitude towards these questions might,
upon certain views about matters of fact or about the
actual constitution of human nature, be justified on
Christian principles — except one, and that ia the
attitude of indifference. The one intolerable attitude
for a Christian to take up is the view that a Christian
is not bis brother's keeper ; that there is a hard and
fast line between the Christian life and the life of
trade or business, of social reform or political progress ;
that Christianity is concerned with purely spiritual
matters, and that questions of Justice, forsooth, are not
spiritual matters !

THE SOCIAL MISSION OF THE CHURCH 135

How to apply these general principles to the
concrete difficulties of the individual life is too wide
a matter for me to enter upon now. I must be
content to glance at a few illustrations of the way
in which we ought to obey them, and to apply them
to the conduct of our own lives.

1. These principles as to the real nature and aims of
the Church of Christ should supply us with the ever-
needed reminder as to the duty of wise and thoughtful
Almsgiving. Almsgiving is no cure for social dis-
orders ; but much evil can be alleviated and prevented
by wise liberality. And there is no form of social
improvement — however unconnected with the direct
relief of want or suffering — which can get on without
money. We have seen that the collection of money
was one of the most prominent functions of the
primitive Church. Giving must still be regarded as
one of the most obvious, the most elementary duties of
the individual Christian man or woman. And it is
clear that this duty of thoughtful Almsgiving cannot
be properly fulfilled unless there is also a thoughtful
regulation of personal expenditure. The duty of Alms-
giving cannot begin just when we have expended the
very maximum that we have a mind to spend upon our
own enjoyment. We cannot quiet the conscience after
the fashion of the Casuists attacked by Pascal, who
contended that it is only our duty to give alms of our
superfluities, and that to persons of quality no income
could be pronounced superfluous. There is a real —
terribly real — meaning in that much abused phrase,

136 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

" necessities of one's position." But this much at least
should be clear, that living up to the necessities of
our position (in any sense in which a Christian can
recognise such necessities) must not be confounded
with living up to our means.

2. I need hardly say how much more valuable than
any money gift as a contribution to this work of pro-
moting the Kingdom of Heaven, which is the essential
work of the Christian Church, is any kind of personal
service. With many, no doubt, at least for part of
their lives, there is room for little voluntary service
of the brethren outside professional work (which, of
course, may none the less be made into service of the
Christian brotherhood), except in the form of alms or
of personal kindness to individuals. And among those
voluntary services which do constitute a most positive
Christian duty in those who have much leisure, we
ought to include a great deal more than what is com-
monly called religious or charitable work. There are a
great many other ways of serving the poor besides going
to visit them in their houses. There is nothing, for
instance, that wants more impressing upon Christian
consciences at the present moment, perhaps, than the
importance of personal service in the work of local
government. Fifty men of common honesty, good
education, and ordinary business capacity, applying
themselves with real enthusiasm to the work of the
Vestries or of the bodies which are to succeed to them
in the poorer parts of London, with the single-minded
desire to make the lives of the poor tolerable, would

THE SOCIAL MISSION OF THE CHURCH 137

probably effect a more real and palpable social reform
than all the London Government Bills that the wisest
and most paternal of governments is likely to give us
for a very long time to come.

3. And on the part of all, even on the part of
those who can take little personal share either in
charitable effort or in legislative and administrative
work, I venture to say that it is a duty to take an
interest in those wider social questions which the
Christian spirit has somehow got to solve. It is a
duty to think about them, to read about them, and to
contribute (so far as we can) to the formation of a
Christian public opinion about them. A strong, an
intolerant Christian public opinion is the modern
equivalent of the ancient ecclesiastical discipline.
And then, of course, so far as we can arrive at any
definite opinions on the matter, we must apply them to
our individual lives, — in buying and selling, employing
labour, investing money, and the like. To take a single
instance of what I mean, we can, if we will take the
trouble to do so (though it is often difficult), find out
something about the way in which the things we wear
are made, and about the lives of the people who make
and sell them. And we can then take steps to secure
that we at least shall not become accomplices in that
process of sweating which in the abstract we are most
of us ready enough to condemn. We can at least
make a practice of dealing ourselves with those who
treat their employees best.

Let me just try to sum up once more the idea on

138 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

which I wish to insist. The Christian Church is
not merely a Society for public prayer and private
edification. It is an organised Society whose ultimate
aim is to bring about that ideal state of human life
which our Lord called the Kingdom of Heaven. We
need not ask whether the coming of the Kingdom of
Heaven is near at hand or far off, or how nearly we
shall ever be able to approximate in actual human life
to that divine ideal. But the duty of Christians is
plain, — not as isolated individuals each seeking his own
salvation, but as members of an ideal Society which is
as it were ever struggling to find a more and more
perfect expression in an actual visible Church, — to
strive towards the mark of social salvation. "Extra
ecclesiam nulla salus." There is no salvation outside
the Church. This is a narrow and intolerant dogma
if understood literally of doctrinal allegiance or
ecclesiastical conformity, but it represents at least
this eternal truth, that the individual's salvation lies
in contributing to social salvation, in identifying him-
self with his community, and in endeavouring, by
some one or other of the immensely diverse kinds of
social service, to turn it into a Kingdom of God.

X.

THE MATTER OF PRAYER.

130

" Aflrr tin* tiutiin r t)i«-rrf«>ri j r»v \r ' VI a:? * !»

X.

THE MATTER OF PRAYER.

IN thinking about Prayer, we are in truth thinking
about the most vital matter in all religion. In
asking whether a particular form of belief can give
any rational meaning to prayer, we are virtually asking
what are its claims to be considered a religion at
all The character of a religion, and the influence
it exercises over its adherents, is determined more
than anything else by the kind of prayer which it
encourages. And the question whether a particular
individual can be called a religious man depends in no
small degree upon the question whether he prays, and
what sort of prayers it is that he prays. It has
generally been recognised that in the Lord's Prayer we
are presented not so much with a particular form of
prayer, as with a model for all prayer. That prayer
was given to the disciples in answer to the appeal,
" Teach us to pray." If we want to learn what is the
Christian way of praying, we must ask in what
respects Christian prayer, as illustrated by the Lord's
Prayer, differs from those long prayers and vain
repetitions against which our Lord had just been
warning His disciples. And for to-day let us take

141

i 4 2 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

for our consideration one of these distinguishing
characteristics of the Lord's Prayer — the things
prayed for.

The matter of Prayer — let that be our subject for
this morning. In the first place, let it be noted that
before we begin to ask for anything we are invited
simply to think of God, to think of Him as our
Father. That word Father strikes the keynote of the
whole. If God is our Father, He must give us all
that we really need, — all that is really good for us, in
so far as the nature of things makes that possible.
And therefore we are prepared to find that only one
petition is for any material good thing — the simple
request, "Give us this day our daily bread." As to
all material goods, our Lord had just been reminding
His disciples that our Heavenly Father knows that
we have need of such things before we ask Him.
That is true, of course, of spiritual blessings also ; but
then with regard to spiritual blessings, the prayer has
a direct tendency to fit us to receive them. There
are things (we may surely say) which it is not
possible for God to give us without prayer, and that
is not the case with regard to material good things.
The Lord's Prayer was not given us to make us think
much about such things, about satisfying our natural
wants, still less about gratifying our worldly desires
and selfish ambitions. Those are just the things
of which we are naturally inclined to think too much
already. "After all these things do the Gentiles
seek." Heathen prayer was often merely a means

THE MATTER OF PRAYER 143

of getting things which the person happened to
want. There is nothing spiritual in that. Christian
prayer is intended to raise our minds above such
things, to make us think about the things that we
are naturally inclined to think too little about ; about
the diffusion of reverence for God's name — that is to
say, reverence for His character and for all that is in
accordance with His will; about the coming of His
kingdom — that is to say, the moulding of all human
society into accord with its divine ideal, the putting
down of all social injustices and tyrannies, of war
between nation and nation, class and class, man and
man, the bringing about a state of things in which all
men shall pursue the common good and treat one
another as brothers. For that is what is really meant
by "Thy kingdom come." When we pray that
prayer, we are not praying for the end of the world,
or praying that we may go to heaven when we die.
We are praying, as the next clause of the prayer
explains, that God's will may be done on earth as
it is in heaven.

All these non-selfish petitions we offer first, before
we come to our own individual needs at alL And
then after the simple prayer for daily bread, an act
of faith in the providence of God, we go on to pray
for our own spiritual needs — for the forgiveness of
sins, for deliverance from evil. Those are the things
of which we are naturally inclined to think too little ;
those are the things, therefore, that we have most
need to be urged to pray for.

i 4 4 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

There is, then, very little in the Lord's Prayer to
encourage prayer for definite and particular temporal
good things for ourselves or for others. May we
not go even further than this ? May we not say that
that clause, " Thy will be done in earth as it is in
heaven," as interpreted in the light of modern science,
positively forbids many kinds of prayer that are still
not wholly unknown among us ? The whole tone and
spirit of our Lord's teaching about prayer may surely
be summed up in those well-known words of an old
English divine, who tells us that prayer is the bring-
ing of our wills into conformity with God's will, not
the effort to bring God's will into conformity with
ours. Where, therefore, the will of God is sufficiently
revealed to us, we ought not to pray for anything
that runs counter to it. Now we do know that it is
God's will to govern the physical universe by general
laws. Why God should govern the world by general
laws which often bring with them so much that seems
to us harmful and unjust, I for one do not profess to
know. Believing that Nature (as the great German
thinker Lotze puts it) is simply a name for an
effect whose cause is God, I cannot profess to see
any a priori necessity for the government of the
world by general laws, if by law is meant simply a
uniform sequence of phenomena. If the word law
means merely uniformity, I cannot pretend to under-
stand that enthusiasm for the idea of " law " which
fills the souls of so many people at the present day.
The course of nature might very well be uniform and

THE MATTER OF PRAYER 145

yet uniformly bad. The will might be governed by
law, and yet be a huge infernal machine. If " law "
means a rational and intelligible principle, that is
another matter; but a rational principle of action
does not necessarily involve a mechanically uniform
sequence of events. We cannot, then (as it seems to
me), see any necessity for this uniformity of nature
understood in its ordinary scientific sense. We do
not know why natureTLform. Still, it is obvious
that the natural world is as a matter of fact governed
by general laws (that is assumed in every scientific
inference) ; and if we believe in God, we must believe
that if nature does work by uniform laws, it is
because it is best that it should so work. Now I
suppose that few among us do seriously doubt that
God does govern the world by general laws. And if
that is God's will, if our knowledge of nature is
sufficient to make us sure that that is God's will, we
have no right to pray for exceptions to the general
course of nature. Where this uniformity in the
course of nature is sufficiently obvious even to the
unscientific observer, nobody ever does think it right
to pray against it. No modern Christian thinks it
right to pray that the sun should stand still, or that it
should rise earlier in the winter months to save the
poor the expense of candlelight. Even where the pur-
pose of such an exception is one which, judged by our
limited and imperfect knowledge, might seem most
certainly in accordance with the demands of justice

or humanity, we do not think it right to pray for
10

146 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

miracles of this sort We do not think it right to
pray that our missionaries should be able to speak
foreign languages without having to learn them.
And we now know what the wisest men did not
always know, that the apparent irregularities of the
weather are just as much due to fixed and ascertain-
able general laws as the rising of the sun or the
course of the tides, though our knowledge of those
laws and our powers of observation are not sufficient
to enable us to predict changes in the weather with as
much accuracy as we can secure in calculating the
motions of the heavenly bodies. In condemning,
therefore, prayers for fair weather and the like, we are
simply carrying out the teaching of the Lord's own
Prayer as interpreted in the light of science, which, so
long as it is understood as a mere statement of what
actually does happen, is no less a revelation of God's
will than the teaching of our Lord Himself. If we
pray such prayers as these, we are really doing what
Christ Himself treated as a temptation of the devil —
commanding that stones be made bread.

But it may be asked, does not the same objection
apply to prayer for spiritual blessings? Surely
nothing can be more unreasonable than such a sug-
gestion. All that we know of the physical world
leads us to believe that God works in it by physical
causes, and that sunrise and sunset, wind and wave,
tide and tempest, are not modified or affected by
any desires or prayers of ours. All that we know
of the spiritual world, on the other hand, leads us

% (. }t *^'<

THE MATTER OF PRAYER 147

to believe that here prayer does cause effects. All
experience is against the one kind of prayer; all
experience is in favour of the other. I do not
believe that anyone has ever prayed in earnest
without having experienced to some extent the
effects of prayer in himself. Do we not rise from
all earnest and serious prayer with a stronger sense ** *"/'
of God's presence, a deeper realisation of His will
for us, more strenuous resolutions to do it ? And
do we not find that (though, of course, even the
sincerest prayer cannot be expected altogether to
neutralise the evil tendencies of our nature) we do
become stronger also to do as we have prayed ?
That prayer does influence character and life is
one of the most certain results of spiritual ex-
perience. If, unhappily, we have no experience of
our own to appeal to on this matter, then let us
trust the unanimous experience of others. There is
no subject connected with the spiritual life on which
we can appeal to so large a weight of testimony.
Here, for once, there is no difference of opinion
among Churches or schools of thought, nor need our
appeal even stop with the limits of Christendom.
All the higher religions of the world are so much
evidence in favour of the spiritual efficacy of prayer.

And here, perhaps, some of my readers will prob-
ably want me to say whether it is a special inter-
position of the Divine Will that we believe in, or
whether the answer to the prayer is to be looked
upon as the natural result of the prayer. Such a

148 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

question involves, I venture to say, a wholly false
antithesis. It implies a forgetfulness of the fact
that laws of nature are, for the Christian, simply
the way in which God acts. That is so even with
physical laws, which are the expression of God's
will, though in that region we cannot always see
what is the ultimate end or purpose of the divine
action. Still more clearly must the laws of our
spiritual nature be regarded as simply a statement
of the way in which God acts upon the human soul
In prayer, if there be a God at all, the human
spirit is in direct and immediate contact with the
Divine Spirit: the effect that the prayer produces
is the divine action. In proportion as in prayer
we are putting ourselves into conformity with God's
will, we are in communion with Him ; and in that
same proportion the prayer will produce its effect
— more or less effect, no doubt, in proportion to
the intensity of the effort and the general char-
acter of the man. But some effect such prayer
must needs produce. It is natural, in view of the
mechanical and impersonal associations of the term
" law," that people should rather shrink from applying
it to that mode of the divine action which we rightly
look upon as most spiritual and most personal. It
is quite right that we should think of God's action
as personal; but that other way of putting the
matter — saying that it is a law of the spiritual
nature that prayer should be answered — has the ad-
vantage of excluding the idea of capricious, irrational

THE MATTER OF PRAYER 149

action, of an arbitrary favouritism (if we may so
speak) in God's dealings with man. We are right
in feeling that God does hear and answer the faithful
prayers of individual souls; only we must remember
also that the prayer is not answered without refer-
ence to the general plan of God's government.
Christians have always been taught that their
prayers will only be answered in so far as they
are in accordance with the ultimate purpose of God
for the future of that individual soul, and, as we
ought to add, of all the other souls who are equally
the objects of His love.

It may be said, of course, that prayer of this kind
might be possible for those who have no faith in God
at alL I for one would not in any way throw ridicule
or contempt upon the Agnostic's earnest attempt to
supply the place which prayer should occupy in
Christian lives by meditation and resolution, by some
solemn dedication of his day to the highest that he
knows. And if such impersonal prayers are answered,
Christians will believe that the answer comes from
God. But, in no spirit of contempt or superiority,
it must be pointed out that such prayers cannot
be all that the Christian means by prayer. In
prayer the Christian believes himself to be standing
in the immediate presence of a personal Will who
knows him through and through, and who wills the
highest good of all created beings. To will the good
with all his might — this, happily, is open to the
Agnostic or the sceptic. And God forbid that we

i 5 o CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

should say that thai can produce no effect upon his
character ; but it cannot have exactly the same effect
that flows from the habit of realising to ourselves
day by day the existence of a Will for the good,
that works out His purposes independently of us,
and yet effects those purposes of His partly through
our co-operation. In a sense we may say that the
deliberate will for the good is always prayer ("laborarc
est ware"), but it makes a great difference whether
we do or do not think of the good as embodied in the
personal Will by which the universe is governed.

The measure of a man's personal religion is, as
I have said, very largely determined, not indeed by
the number of prayers he says, but by the extent to
which prayer enters his life, — the kind of prayers he
prays, the intensity of those prayers, the earnestness
with which, both by deliberate acts at stated times
and also in the silent, almost wordless, prayer which
should find its place in a Christian's inner life at
other times, he strives to know God's will better, and
to do it better. Are our prayers such that we can
expect them to have these effects ? Do we pray for the
right objects — for those spiritual good things, those
qualities of heart and character, those desires and in-
clinations, that direction of the will, which we know
to be most in accordance with God's purpose for us ?
Are our prayers regular enough, thoughtful enough,
earnest enough, for us to expect them to affect our
characters ? That question compels us to pass on
from the matter of prayer to its manner. About

THE MATTER OF PRAYER

15*

that I hope to say more next Sunday. Meanwhile,
let me leave with you this one thought: prayer, to
be really effectual, must be a deliberate striving, not
merely for Christian virtues and graces in general,
but for the particular spiritual gifts which each of
us really wants.

And that such prayers may be, there must first
be deliberate thought about our own particular
temptations, that we may resist them; about the
particular virtues or qualities of which we are most
in need, that we may win them; about our own
particular duties, that we may do them.

XI.
THE MANNER OF PRAYER.

168

" Aftrr t)u« liiAUlirr (Ki-trforr \x%\ *c.*— Mat? t& *

XL
THE MANNER OF PRAYER.

LAST Sunday we were considering what it is that
the Lord's Prayer teaches us to pray for. One
petition only, we saw, is for any material good thing
— that simple act of faith in the Fatherhood of God,
" Give us this day our daily bread." It does not teach
us to pray for particular temporal goods, — for things
which we could only get by some suspension or viola-
tion of that course of nature which is only another
name for the will of God. On the other hand, it does
teach us to pray for spiritual good things — for a
will, a character, a life in conformity with all that
conscience, enlightened by Christ's teaching and the
working of God's Holy Spirit in the world, has taught
us to look upon as the highest, the divine ideal.
With regard to such things, it is a law of the spiritual
world that the prayer, in proportion to its sincerity
and its intensity, is followed by more or less of what
we pray for.

That is one of the points in wljich our Lord sets
his own method of prayer in contrast with the prayers
of the heathen. To-day I want to dwell on another
respect in which the Lord's Prayer is set before us

156

156 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

as a model for our imitation. It is short. It consists
of few petitions, and each of them is expressed in few
and simple words. It is, indeed, in this respect perhaps
primarily that our Lord intends to contrast His method
of prayer with the long prayers and vain repetitions of
the Gentiles, who thought that they would be heard for
their much speaking. And yet from His own example
we cannot suppose that He meant that we should only
spend a very short time over our prayers, that we
should literally confine our devotions to the fifteen
seconds or so which it takes to repeat the Lord's
Prayer. We know that the Master Himself was
wont — not habitually, indeed, or as a piece of set
routine, but at great crises of His life — to spend a
whole night in prayer to God. How are we to
reconcile the seeming contradiction between His pre-
cept and His practice ?

Is not the key to the difficulty to be found in this

fact, that the essence of prayer lies not in the number

or the eloquence of the words that are said, but in the

intensity with which we strive after those things which

we believe to be in accordance with the will of God

for us ? Prayer is a matter not of the lips, not

, even of the heart or of the emotions only, but of

j the will That is the essential fact that we ought

' to grasp. The Lord's Prayer should be the model for

all our prayers. But the Lord's Prayer is general

and indefinite, as all prayers must be that are to

be adapted to the use of individuals of different

characters, and in different circumstances, to say

THE MANNER OF PRAYER 157

nothing of different races and generations. If we
want to pray with sincerity all that is really im-
plied in that prayer, we shall have to translate each
of these vague and general petitions into the terms
of our own particular needs, of our own particular
characters, our own particular circumstances. And
if we are to do that, there must be a good deal in
our prayers besides asking. Here is one great mis-
take that people are apt to make about prayer, as
it seems to me: they suppose that prayer is all a
matter of asking. If our prayers are to be answered,
we must pray for the right things. If we are really
to pray for the right things, there must be a good
deal in our prayers besides asking, especially one thing
—and that is thinking.

Thus take, for instance, the prayer for pardon. It
costs us very little to say "we are all miserable
sinners," in a vague and general way, with a strong
mental emphasis on the " we," on the fact that other
people are sinners too. We cannot expect so vague
and general a confession of sins to have much effect
upon our lives. We must surely ask ourselves de-
finitely when and wherein we have sinned, if there is
to be reality in the confession and earnestness in the
prayer for pardon, reality in the repentance and in-
tention of amendment. And to make this confession
there must be self-examination.

A practice which has obtained such a wide accept-
ance for so many ages in the Christian Church as
that of formal and periodical confession to a priest

158 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

cannot be without some spiritual advantages, however
strongly we may believe that those advantages are
outweighed by the disadvantages — the sacerdotal
tyranny, the demoralising casuistry, the superstitious
belief in Absolution — which seem to be inseparably
associated with the system as a system. I have no
belief myself in formal confession, at least for people
of our race and time, except in the shape in which it
has at all times existed in all, even the most
Protestant, religious communities. The occasional
consultation in time of spiritual perplexity or diffi-
culty of some one — priest or layman — whom the
person thinks qualified to help him by advice or
sympathy or encouragement, is a thing which always
has existed and always will exist One of the ob-
jections to the attempt to introduce confession in its
Roman form into our Church is that it really puts
obstacles in the way of the natural and healthy inter-
course between priest and people. Men would some-
times be ready to ask the advice of a clergyman, if
they could be sure that they would not be supposed to
be " going to confession." But all the same a practice
so widely accepted must have some recommendations,
and it is well that we who condemn it should con-
sider how we can get what advantages it possesses
without its drawbacks. And at least it must carry
with it this good effect — that it compels particular
self-examination and detailed acknowledgment of sin.
Doubtless confession of the ordinary kind tends to
lay too much emphasis upon particular and definite

THE MANNER OF PRAYER 159

sins, transgressions of rules — for the most part nega-
tive rules — of morality or Church discipline. We
should not merely ask ourselves what definite sins
we have committed, — immoral acts, pieces of excessive
self-indulgence, unkind deeds or unkind words, petty
dishonesties or neglects of duty, — but also what has
been, and is, the general tenor of our lives ; how far
we are doing any work in the world ; how far we are
thinking, caring, striving for the good of our fellows
as Christ would have us think and care and strive.
These are the questions that we must ask ourselves
if we would make the prayer for pardon a reality
strong enough to bring with it that turning from evil
to good without which there can be no true repentance,
and therefore no true absolution.

There must be time, then, in our prayers for
thinking about our past life and our present, for
that comparing of ourselves with the divine ideal
of human life which is called self-examination. I do
not mean to recommend those elaborate strings of
questions which we find set down in certain books
of devotion. It is no use asking ourselves questions
about long lists of possible sins for which we have
not the inclination or the opportunity. It is no use
for a teetotaler of many years' standing, for instance,
to be asking himself whether he has been sober, or
for a child to ask himself (as Benan tells us he
was made to ask himself when he was a little boy
in the petit sSminaire) whether he has been guilty of
Simony. A man must have been very inobservant

160 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

of liis own inner life if he does not know pretty well
what sins he has to ask himself about; and the less
artificial and stereotyped his way of dealing with him-
self in such matters, the better. There is a special
time, of course, for such self-examination when we are
about to present ourselves before God's altar. And
it is one of the main advantages of regular and not
infrequent Communion, that it brings with it periodical
opportunities for quiet thought of this kind. But a
moment of such self-questioning there ought to be
every morning, or every evening, if there is to be
any reality in those words, "Forgive us our tres-
passes as we forgive them that trespass against us."
And after self-examination must come resolution —
definite resolution that we will try to avoid the sins
of which we have been reminded, to do the things
which we believe to be our duty, to cultivate the
qualities of character and the habits of life which
we know we most want. This also there must be
in our prayers if there is to be reality in the petition,
" Deliver us from evil."

And let me remind you again that the thinking,
which should be the basis of prayer, should not be
limited to private matters, to personal failings, and
personal habits. If we are to say sincerely, "Thy
kingdom come," we must be thinking in our own
minds of some definite steps or phases in the coming
of that kingdom of God, of the work of our calling, of
the works of charity, the good causes, the social
institutions, the scraps and bits of social reform or

THE MANNER OF PRAYER 161

social progress which we might do something to
promote. Of this I will say no more at present,
because I hope to say more about this side of prayer
another Sunday.

Are not many prayers ineffectual, — do they not
exercise, I will not say no influence at all (no
sincere prayer could do that), but far less influence
than they might exert on heart and character and life,
because people do not take the trouble to ask for
what they really want — for what they really ought
to want, if I may say so? Do not many people
go on repeating some little form of words which
they have learned, it may be, in early childhood ?
God forbid that anyone should speak contemptuously
of such a habit ! Better a thousandfold to kneel
down night and morning and say the very simplest
form of words, than not to pray at alL The bare
action of kneeling down cannot fail at least to keep
alive some thought of God and of duty in the soul,
which will go with us into our life's work. But
more than this surely is needed, if our prayers are to
be of the kind which may intelligibly be called a
wrestling with God. The prayers ought to grow as
mind and body grow, if they are to have the influence
they ought to have on the real bent and direction, the
real aims and aspirations of public and private Ufa
Conventional prayers keep alive a conventional re-
ligion; and even conventional religion has its value.
But the religion that makes a religious man demands for

its sustenance something more than conventional prayer.
ii

162 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

Let me reduce the result of these reflections to a
few practical precepts. Only let me say that my
suggestions, vague as they will be, are not made in a
dogmatic spirit. Everybody muBt find out by ex-
perience what manner of praying really suits his own
needs.

1. Firstly, then, we must make up our minds
what it is we really want to pray for, and for this
purpose we must leave sufficient time for our prayers.
What I have said about the liberty that there must
be in such matters is eminently applicable to this
question of time. God forbid that any of us should
condemn other people because their prayers are longer
or shorter than his own ! All one can say must be
very general. On the one hand, it is clear to me that
any system which, whether for clergy or laity, for
religious community or for people living in the world
(as it is called), turns devotion from a means into an
end, which makes it into the substance and serious
business of life instead of the support and inspiration
of other work, is inconsistent with the Christian ideal
of prayer. We must not suppose that we shall be
heard for our much speaking. How much prayer
will really profit the life, must depend on the char-
acter, the training, and the circumstances of indi-
viduals : we must not fall into the fallacy of supposing
that because a certain amount of food or medicine
will produce a certain effect, twice the amount of it
will produce twice the effect. But, after all, to take
too long over our prayers is certainly not a mistake

THE MANNER OF PRAYER 163

that many of us want warning against. On the other
hand, if prayer is to be all I have been trying to show
that it should be, it is clear that it must take some
time. Is it quite superfluous to say that for all it
should take an appreciable time ? But if our prayers
should be longer than they are apt to be, it is not so
much that there may be more words, as that there
may be more silence, more thought — time enough to
realise that we are in the presence of God, time
enough to think of our sins that we may repent of
them, of our temptations that we may fight against
them, of our neighbours that we may serve them, of
our duties that we may do them. And for this
purpose let me especially insist on the importance of
prayer in the morning, when the day is still before
us, and when the prayer may carry its support and
inspiration straight into the day's work.

2. And then one word as to forms of prayer. I
think it is well that we should use some form of
words, lest our prayers should end in mere wandering
or reverie. Perhaps some of the prayers in the
Prayer-Book will supply the need of many : I do not
know where to find better or simpler prayers than the
three Collects for morning and evening prayer, for
instance, or the General Thanksgiving, or the prayer
for all conditions of men. But whatever other prayers
we use, let there be some more particular prayer,
however short, however simple, expressed in our own
words.

For we do want in prayer to be thinking of our

■*4

CHRISTUS IN BCCLESIA

npecial need* and duties and temptation*. <>«r
|»etition» will protiahly for the maul |*rt mould thra.
wive* iuto much the mme word* day after day. U*
tho nvtsh of each day and the dutie* of each day
and the failure* of each day, alas? arr apt to Ue
very much alike. But let there he mom for the
tliought of any special duty or any special tetn|>catMi
or piece of work that may lie facing tin in the im-
mediate future, and room also for the gradual n»«ii-
ticntion of prayer aa growth of character or chant*
of circumstance may suggest new meaning* anil new
application* of each petition in the model ptaycr
which we liave tveu ntudyin^.

XII.
INTERCESSORY PRAYER.

105

Thv kin*rf ,1,n r,,mr MaTT *

l«»

XII.
INTERCESSORY PRAYER.

ON the two previous Sundays I have spoken of
other aspects of prayer. To-day I propose to
say something about the most difficult question that
arises in connection with prayer — the value and
efficacy of prayer for others. The teaching alike of
the Lord's Prayer and of all experience goes to show,
on the one hand, that we ought not to pray for sus-
pensions of the laws of physical nature, whether on
our own behalf or on that of others ; and, on the other
hand, that we ought to pray for spiritual blessings for
ourselves, and that such prayers are answered. But
what are we to say to prayers for the spiritual good
of others ?

Now here, I think, we may say that our knowledge 4
of psychical life — of the relations between mind and '
mind, and of the relations between the human mind
and the divine — is not such as absolutely to exclude the
possibility of our desires, emotions, willings, breathed
out in prayer to God, reaching and helping other
souls. There are well-established facts which seem to
point in that direction. And the connection between
mind and matter is so close that it is not impossible

167

168 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

that prayers for the sick — that most natural and
cherished refuge of anxious and loving hearts — may
likewise produce a real effect, even apart from the
influence which the consciousness of being prayed for
must often have upon the mind of the sufferer. These
things may be. Our knowledge does not forbid us
to think they are so. And yet I know that there are
many minds which (rightly or wrongly) will be little
affected by bare possibilities of this kind. This is a
question to which it is inevitable, in the present state
of our knowledge, that very different answers should
be given by minds equally Christian, with equal faith
in the divine government of the world, and in the
existence of real communion between God and the
human soul. And that being so, I think I shall not
be wrong if I try to show reasons why we should pray
for others as well as for ourselves, even though it were
the case that the divine answer to such prayers comes
only through the general working of God's providence,
independently of the fact that those prayers are
prayed, or of the influence which such prayers may
exert on the praying soul. I do not wish to weaken
any measure of faith that any one here may possess
in a more direct and immediate efficacy of such
prayers. I only want to help those who feel that
both the example of Christ and the universal practice
of Christians do commend the practice of intercessory
prayer, and yet who feel more or less difficulty in
reconciling such a practice with the view of the mode
of God's government of the world to which their

INTERCESSORY PRAYER 169

reason may seem, with more or less confidence, to
point.

It is essential to start with a clear recognition of
the fact that prayer, in its essence, is not an uttering
of so many words, but a direction of the will towards
the objects which we believe to be good and in accord-
ance with God's will Prayer, indeed, can hardly be
said to be possible without some words shaped in the
mind if not uttered with the lips; for we know how
difficult it is to think for long together without words,
though the words constantly fail to express all that is
in the thought. But it is the will that gives the
prayer whatever efficacy it possesses: prayer is a
deliberate direction of our will, or (as some may prefer
to say) our desires or aspirations, towards certain
objects. Now, if this be so, we could not say that
Christians ought not to pray for others, unless we
were prepared to say that Christians ought not to be
constantly directing their desires and their wills
towards the good of others as well as towards their
own good. A Christian surely is not in a right state
of mind unless his heart is full of such unselfish
desires. And can we say that we are naturally so
prone to interest ourselves in other people's welfare
that it is superfluous for us to try, by the deliberate
direction of our intention, to cultivate and strengthen
this spirit of charity in ourselves ? Whatever else
intercessory prayer is or is not, at least it has its
value as a school of charity.

And of these objects for which we pray, some al

170 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

least will bo more or less within our reach. We may
not at the moment be engaged in any particular
course of action contributing to the end in question ;
but if the desire for the object is duly cultivated, it
will in time produce its effects through us and through
others. And even when the end is one which we
individually may not be able to help, it is clearly
right that we should desire the thing, if we believe
that it is good. Sometimes the effect of our prayers in
exerting and sustaining effort will be direct and
immediate. We cannot sincerely and habitually pray
(I do not say we cannot utter the words), but wo
cannot really pray for those who are "in danger,
necessity, and tribulation," for " fatherless children and
widows," and for " all that are desolate and oppressed,"
without asking ourselves sometimes whether we are
doing what we might to bring about those things
which we are solemnly telling God that we believe to
be in accordance with His will. In other cases the
effect of prayer may be (so far as we can see) remoter.
We may not see what any one of us can do to bring
about a just settlement of this or that particular
difference among nations, still less to produce universal
peace and disarmament ; but still it must be right to
desire, and therefore to pray, for imity, peace, and
concord among all nations. And there can be no
doubt that, if we could get enough people sincerely to
pray for peace, — such a peace as should be consistent
with justice and good government, — a real step would
be taken towards bringing about, tirst a general will

INTERCESSORY PRAYER 171

for peace, and then the thing itself. Whatever else
prayer may or may not be, prayer is a direction of
our will or desires towards an ideal, — an ideal which we
believe to be ultimately God's ideal — , and that ideal
cannot, and must not, be a selfish ideal. Prayer is a
mode of cultivating and building up devotion to ideals,
and ideals do ultimately translate themselves into fact.
Let us now turn once more to the Lord's Prayer,
and ask whether this view of what intercessory prayer
should be is not very much in harmony with the
spirit of its teaching. You will observe that not one
petition of it is wholly and entirely intercessory ; and
yet no one petition of it is wholly and entirely self-
centred. These petitions are of two kinds. Either
we pray in them for certain blessings for ourselves and
others, " Give us this day our daily bread, forgive us
our trespasses, deliver us from evil," or they are
wholly impersonal, and refer to the general course
of events in the world without reference to any
particular person or persons. "Thy kingdom come,
Thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven." In
either case we may say that the Christian ought in
every prayer of his to identify and associate himself
with others. Every clause in the Lord's Prayer is, we
J^ay »ay> a prayer for the whole Church — that Church
which should ideally be coextensive with all humanity.
And that, surely, should be just the habitual attitude
of the Christian mind : the Christian should live in a
state of desire for others' good. And if he is to live
thus, he must pray thus.

172 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

It may be that we shall best carry out the spirit
of the Lord's Prayer in this matter by keeping our
prayers for others general and comprehensive. But I
do not think we need limit our intercessions to such
very general aspirations as "Thy kingdom come."
We must make them more detailed than that in order
to make them more real If we want our prayers to
be real, to be prayers which are likely to influence
ourselves and one another, we must translate that
general petition into the language of our own time:
we must pray for social justice, for instance, for the
coming of a juster distribution or a less selfish use of
wealth, for better feeling between classes, better pro-
vision for old age, and the like. Or at least we should
have such things in our mind when we pray for the
coming of God's kingdom in our midst. And this same
consideration of greater reality may reasonably be
pushed further : we may pray for any particular good
work or cause that we have at heart. And so again,
we may justify prayer for particular persons or
particular good gifts for those persons.

Only, when we thus come down to requests for
detailed objects, we must bear in mind two cautions.

1. One is a rule which has generally been
admitted by all Christians at all times : that in pro-
portion as we descend from those general principles
(so to speak) which we know to be in accordance
with God's will to greater and greater particularity,
every petition must be increasingly accompanied by
the implied or expressed "If it be Thy will" And

INTERCESSORY PRAYER 173

we may add (what perhaps has not been so univer-
sally remembered) that we must not pray for what
we know to be out of accord with God's wilL Thus
(to take a simple illustration), in praying for the
success of missions, we are hardly going beyond
what we know to be in accordance with the will of
God. Some measure of success, we may feel sure, it
must be God's will to bestow on every attempt to
diffuse Christian ideas about God and human Ufa If
we were even to pray that all the inhabitants of India
may become Christians, we should not be doing wrong ;
because to us it appears a good thing that this should
be, and we know of no reason why it should not
ultimately be so, though here we must much more
decidedly remember our saving clause, " If it be Thy
will, O God." We do not know that it is God's will
that India should become Christian, though we know
that we ought to strive to make it so. On the
other hand, if we were to pray that all India might
be made Christian in five years' time, that would
be unspeakably absurd and presumptuous, since we
know that it would be quite inconsistent with the
general laws of God's government that so vast a
spiritual revolution should take place in so short a
time.

2. On the principle of the greater reality which it
introduces into prayer, it is not wrong, I think, to
pray for particular persons. Such prayers may pro-
duce a direct effect, or, if we think of the influence of
payer as indirect, we are clearly more likely to be

174 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

stirred up to greater helpfulness to others by pray-
ing for particular persons whom we know and can
influence, than by praying for our fellow-creatures in
general. But our prayers must not become selfish
and exclusive. I doubt whether it is altogether well,
assuming that escape from death is a thing that
ought to be prayed for at all, that we should pray
for the deliverance of our particular friends and rela-
tions in battle when that practically means that
other people's friends and relations must be shot.
And equally in spiritual things; if we do right
to pray for spiritual blessings for particular persons,
we should never altogether forget the rest of the
world. It is allowable to make our prayers more
real by specially mentioning our family, our friends,
our country. We may specially pray for blessings
on certain people, but not for "special blessings"
upon those whom we love, which obviously implies
that we desire a smaller blessing only for other
people's relations and friends. It is inevitable that
we should feel more concerned for our own; it is
natural that we should express that concern in prayer :
but we must not dictate to the Almighty who shall
be more and who less favoured at His hands. Our
reformer Wycliffe, surrounded on all sides by a vast
organisation for securing special divine favours for
those who could pay for them, went so far as to
recommend that no prayers or Masses should be
offered for particular persons, living or dead. That
restriction may be unnecessary when we are dealing

INTERCESSORY PRAYER 175

merely with the spontaneous and untaught utterances
of natural affection, which it must be at least harmless
and consoling to bring before our Heavenly Father ;
but I must add that elaborate organisations for
securing in a mechanical way a multiplication of
prayers for particular persons or objects, do seem to
me to savour a little of that confidence in the mere
multitude of petitions which we are in the habit of
supposing to be peculiarly characteristic of the Church
of Some. In the recently published life of Cardinal
Manning, a correspondent of his is quite certain that
his appointment was due to the special interposition
of the Holy Ghost on account of the " numberless
masses" which the Pope had ordered to be said.
There are Protestant modes of prayer which are, at
bottom, no less pagan.

There is one particular application of these prin-
ciples which, in honesty, I must not pass over. There
is no sort of prayer which is dearer to the heart of
many than prayer for particular persons in illness. I
may be asked whether this too will not be condemned
by our principle of not praying for suspension of the
laws of nature in our favour ? I answer, in so far as
the disease is a purely physical matter, we ought not
to suppose that it can be affected by prayers of ours.
We ought not, therefore, to pray for recovery from a
disease known to be incurable. But when the disease
is not of this necessarily fatal character, the influence
of mind upon body ia so great that we cannot posi-
tively say that prayer may not affect the issue.

176 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

There is not a little evidence to show that under some
conditions such effects actually are produced. But
whatever we think about that as a speculative
question, we probably always do and always shall
pray at such moments, when the heart is really moved
and we tremble for the lives of those we love. And
such natural outpourings of the heart to the God
whom we are taught to look upon as a Father, cannot
be wrong, provided we remember the two cautions —
the " If it be Thy will/' and the rule that nothing be
prayed for which is known to be contrary to the
declared will of God.

Subject to these conditions, no sort of prayer can be
wrong. But I am loath to conclude without return-
ing to that sort of prayer which is most certainly in
accordance with God's will, which is most certainly
effectual, and which most vitally concerns the spiritual
life of every Christian man or woman — the prayer of
each against his own temptations, for his own spiritual
progress, and in general for that coming of God's
kingdom among men, the willing and striving for
which is inseparable from the individual's own spiritual
welfare. I will try to sum up what I have to say
on this matter with one or two very plain practical
suggestions :

1. The more closely we can associate together our
prayers for others and our prayers for ourselves, the
more closely we shall be following the model of the
Lord's Prayer. Ourselves and our brethren should be
the implied or expressed object of every prayer which

INTERCESSORY PRAYER 177

has no special reference to our own peculiar character
and circumstances.

2. Let us try to bring prayer and effort as closely
together as possible. The most certainly efficacious of
all prayers are the prayers for help in resisting one
known temptation and doing one known duty ; and a
part of our known duty is to feel an ardent charity to
our fellow-men. Such prayers cannot be in the long
run without some effect. And when we pray more
definitely for particular things and particular persons,
let us pray most for the causes that we could help and
the people whom we could influence. Prayer should
be the great inspirer of effort : effort alone can give
reality to prayer.

3. And, lastly, may I conclude with one remark

applicable to all prayer, not only to this special

question of intercessory prayer ? If at any time you

should begin to doubt, do not cease to pray. There

may come a time, perhaps, unhappily to some, when a

materialistic view of the universe may make prayer

altogether unnatural I do not say that people should

try to go on praying then. But so long as you have

even a hope that there is a Will in the universe better

and holier than your own, seek to identify yourself

with that Will. So long as Christ is to you even

an ideal only, reach out after that ideal in prayer.

Even should your idea of God at some dark moment

of your life dwindle to something so vague as a

" tendency that makes for righteousness," put yourself

on the side of that tendency by steady and persistent
12

, 7 8

CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

prayer, and it nmy lie that practical experience <4 the
cflecU of treating tliat tendency a* a iVrvm «iD
supply you with one groat argument for the belief ia *
living (Sod with whom in prayer the human *ml
comes into a real perianal relation.

XIII.
THANKSGIVING.

179

•• WIwimi onVrrth Mr thank* and prmut, nc
IS. 1. 13 (Prvrrr ll».k Yrmun)

XIII.
THANKSGIVING.

WHAT is the use of being thankful ? Now that
the close of the great war is, we may hope, well
in sight, and people are already beginning to ask them-
selves how its conclusion shall be celebrated, it may
not be amiss to set ourselves that problem. The Press
has already begun to discuss the question: "Shall
we have a day of National Thanksgiving ? " That
we should sanctify our national rejoicings by public
religious services, that every effort should be made to
prevent the day of national joy degenerating into a day
of national orgy, must be the wish of every Christian
souL Thanksgiving is undoubtedly right. And yet
the question I have propounded is not a superfluous
one. For there is a kind of thanksgiving which is
purely pagan in origin and in spirit The savage
was disposed to think of his god as very like himself,
— and not always like himself at his best. Just as
favours could be won from his chief by entreaty,
flattery, self-humiliation, cajolery; so, he thought,
could favours be won from his god. Just as he
himself, or his chief, liked to be thanked and
complimented and extolled by those for whom

181

182 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

he had done some favour; so the god, it was
supposed, expected to have his assistance duly
acknowledged, and would resent and punish any
slight or neglect on the part of ungrateful subjects.
The i>agan god generally required some more sub-
stantial acknowledgment of his assistance — in the
shape of sacrifice or offering, some portion of the
slaughtered victim, some sculptured memento or adorn-
ment to his temple. And many a Christian shrine
and many a Christian rite, not always so beautiful
or so edifying as the play at Obcr-Ammergau, origin-
ally instituted in fulfilment of a vow made in time
of pestilence, still testifies to the fact that Christians
too have sometimes supposed that their God was a
God who could bo bribed by vows of painful sacrifice
or costly oblation. It was an immense gain in spiritu-
ality when in the later Judaism, and most completely
in Christianity, it came to be felt that God demanded
no more than verbal acknowledgment of His help,
and that even words were valuable in His eyes only
in so far as they testified to thankful hearts in the
breast of the worshipper. "Sacrifice and meat-offering
Thou wouldest not. Then said I, Lo, I come : in the
volume of the l>ook it is written of me, that I should
fulfil thy will, my God." l

But, even when the thanksgiving is encouraged
merely as a mode of expressing and of exciting
grateful feelings, it is quite possible that the taint
of paganism may cleave to our worship. In speaking

1 Pb. xl. 8-10 (Prayer-Book).

THANKSGIVING 183

of paganism, of course I do not mean that all poly-
theistic religion was of this degraded type. There
have been moral, spiritual, elevating elements in all
forms of religion — even the lowest ; but paganism is
a convenient name to denote the kind of religion
which is unconnected with strictly moral ideas, or
is connected with moral ideas of a low and unspiritual
cast. Our gratitude may become pagan when there
is mixed with it any idea of rejoicing over others,
of rejoicing that we have got something at the ex-
pense of others, that we are more favoured than they,
— still more so when we allow ourselves to suppose
that by such acknowledgments of God's help we can
win a favour which we do not deserve, or which
we do deserve but which God would not be disposed
to give us unless He were so propitiated. Our grati-
tude becomes, I will not say pagan, but certainly
inconsistent with that view of the Universe which
science, history, and the teaching of Christ alike
impress upon us, when we allow ourselves to think
that some piece of material prosperity, personal or
national, is necessarily a proof of our superior right-
eousness and desert, — that our victories in the late
war are any proof of national righteousness, or that,
if we had been defeated, it would necessarily have
been a proof of exceptional national guilt. Christian
thankfulness must be purged of all these elements.
It is not to express such ideas that thanksgiving is
a recognised element of all Christian worship ; or that
it is good at the moments when we have received

184 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

some special favour or blessing, to feel and to express
by outward and formal acknowledgment our grati-
tude to God the Giver of it. We cannot believe
that God cares for such gratitude, or for its expres-
sion, unless it is in some way good for us to be
grateful — conducive to that state or direction of
the heart and the will, that type of character, that
spiritual growth, by which alone we can really be
said to promote the true glory of God. God is
glorified only when His will is done, when His
purposes are promoted, when His kingdom among
men is advanced. Once more we are brought round
to the question, What is the use of thanksgiving, or
of the gratitude of which it is the expression ?

1. Firstly, then, I think we ought to answer, the
giving thanks for our good things keeps alive in us
a sense of God's providential government of the world.
It is not well to attempt to explain God's providence
in detail We must not ignore or explain away the
evil that there is in the world : we must not adopt
modes of accounting for it which shock either our moral
sense or our common sense. We must acknowledge
that there is much in the world which is in itself evil,
and which can be reconciled with our idea of God's
goodness only by the belief that it is a means to
an ultimate good, a means without which even God
Himself could not bring about that good. But when
we do see that the world is good, when we do
see, or think we see, good coming out of evil, the
course of outward events so ordered as to make life

THANKSGIVING 185

a good thing for ourselves or for others, then we
do well to think of all this as coming from God,
and by that reflection to strengthen in ourselves
the belief — so necessary to the spiritual life of man
— that all things do work together for good under
the guidance of a Mind and a Will supremely wise,
supremely just, supremely loving.

2. And that leads to a further justification of thanks-
giving. The highest thanksgiving ends in praise. The
difference between thanksgiving and praise is that in
praise we are no longer thinking immediately of
any special act of goodness to ourselves, but are
simply expressing our sense of God's character — of
what He is in Himself. But the moral value of
praising God, be it remembered, must depend upon
the kind of character which our praises ascribe to
Him. We do not praise God aright when we thank
Him for having arbitrarily favoured ourselves at the
expense of others. But when we praise God aright,
when it is the Christian God, the God who is re-
vealed in all human goodness, and pre-eminently in
the character of Christ, — when it is the Christian God
whose character we set forth, then praise carries with
it all the spiritual effects that spring from the thought
of such a God. And we do want to keep alive in
ourselves this thought of God. Mere belief in God
will have no effect upon our lives unless the thought
of God — that is to say, of a Being perfectly right-
eous, just, loving — is constantly in our thoughts, re-
buking our sins, encouraging our good purposes,

186 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

strengthening our feeble resolutions, cheering our
faint-heartedness, infusing seriousness and earnestness
into every thought and word and deed. To keep alive
that thought of God is one of the great functions
of all worship, but especially of that part of it which
we call thanksgiving and praise. The worship of the
Christian Church has always consisted largely in the
singing of Psalms; and it is one of the great uses
of the Psalms that they are so full of the thought
of God. Sometimes, of course, the idea of God
which the Psalms suggest to us is not the full-
grown Christian idea of God. When that is so, we
must mentally correct them in the light of Christian
teaching. But many of the Psalms breathe the loftiest
Christian idea of the nearness and the goodness and
the mercy of God. To keep the image of such a God
constantly before our thoughts must tend to inspire
in us the longing and the striving after the same high
virtues which, with lips and heart, we attribute to
Him in whom in one sense all living beings, in a
far higher sense all good men in proportion to their
goodness, live and move and have their being.

3. And that consideration brings me to the third
reason, the most directly practical of all, why it is
good to offer thanks and praise to God. There is a
thanksgiving which is pagan, and that at bottom (as
we have seen) is the thanksgiving which is selfish.
But it is not the thought of the Christian God that can
inspire a selfish thankfulness, — a thankfulness which
rejoices that we have more and others less. Gratitude

THANKSGIVING 187

to God must inspire the desire to please Him, and
the God whom we worship is a God who can be
pleased only by goodness, and a goodness of which
love is the highest expression. In the mind that
thinks of God as Christ conceived of Him, the idea
of the common Father must inspire thoughts of God's
other sons. Reflection on the much we have re-
ceived (whether in spiritual or in temporal ways)
must suggest the thought of the less that so many
others have received, others whom yet we believe
to be no less objects of God's love. The thought
of the much that we have received must bring
home to us the little that we have done, the
more that we might do, the more that we are
bound to do. The measure of our advantages is the
measure of our responsibilities. It is because it
must tend to awaken this sense of responsibility that
the reasonable and worthy offering of thanks and
praise to God is not an unprofitable employment of
time.

Gratitude to God for our recent deliverance from
a great national peril will be a very vain thing
unless it quickens a sense of national responsibility.
Privilege should bring with it the sense of responsi-
bility. Privilege in the long run (whether in classes
or in individuals) can be sanctified, can be justified,
only when it does bring with it the sense of respon-
sibility.

And on the present occasion, at the moment which,
if it is still a moment of national anxiety, is yet, we

188 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

trust, the eve of great national rejoicing, suffer me to
give a national application to this idea, the connection
between privilege and responsibility. It is a platitude
to say that this is a great national crisis; that we
stand at the parting of the ways. All this brilliant
national success, this recovered prestige, this national
self -gratulat ion, all these things of which the names
have become catchwords — Imperialism, Expansion,
Federation, and the like — may become good or bad
just according to the use we make of them. They
may simply swell our national vanity, foster the
materialism of our ideals, add the vices of militarism
to the vices of commercialism, strengthen and de-
velop the more brutal, the more philistine element
of our national character, lead to the forgetfulnees
of the things that have made us greater than all
our military and naval glories,— our constitutional
freedom, our sympathy with the cause of freedom
everywhere, our championship of weaker races, I may
add, the whole intellectual side of our national life.
If we do improve this great opportunity which the
providence of God has brought to us, this war may
inaugurate a new era of closer federation between
nations of kindred stock, of stronger and more resolute
justice between race and race, of more strenuous and
patriotic citizenship on the part of those privileged
classes at home who have taken so active a part in
the present campaign. If we use our opportunity, this
war may ultimately conduce to peace, to justice, to
goodwill. Tutting aside all disputed questions as to

THANKSGIVING 189

the immediate origin of this war, whether it was
always inevitable or at what moment it became so,
we do most of us believe that, on the whole, — on the
whole, I fear, is the most that we dare say, — it re-
presents the triumph of a higher ideal of social life
over a lower ideal. Whether it will ultimately prove
a blessing to the world — worth the cost of life and
suffering, worth the heroic self-sacrifice which it has
involved — must depend upon the keeping up of that
ideal; upon our caring for justice and humanity
more than for conquest or dividends, for rights more
than for interests, for national duty more than for
national glory. The amount which any individual,
except a very few, can do to keep up and to raise the
ideal of a nation, may seem too insignificant to be
worth speaking of. And yet we shall misuse this
moment of national success if it does not force upon
us the question, " What do we really desire that our
nation should be or do, and what does that mean when
applied to the life and the duties of each individual
citizen?" Each of us has some responsibility, at
least for the thoughts and words which go to form
national opinion, if not for the deeds which go to
shape national policy.

XIV.

PENITENCE AND PENITENTIAL

SEASONS.

101

EXCE ft. PENITKNTIAL

SS.

"Turn Thy fan* fr«m niv mb» : an«l |*ui oui til m« ■
Make Me a t Iran heart, 1 > « i« J . an* I n tir* a "ft* »f<ffil
inc."— IV. li. 9, t"(I'rat«r I*"' 1 ' V. r«t«<B\

XIV. 1

PENITENCE AND PENITENTIAL

SEASONS.

AS we read the solemn psalm from which the
words of my text are taken, we must be struck
by the difference between its language and the lan-
guage in which mere moralists, ancient and modern,
pagan and even Christian, are wont to talk of sin.
To the religious mind the sins of the past seem to
ding around us, — to be a burden that must be re-
moved, a pollution that must be washed out, a
bondage from which we must be set free. The sin
and the remedy that it demands alike present them-
selves almost as physical facts. It is impossible to
speak of them without using physical metaphors, and
the cruder forms of religion have ever been prone to
treat and interpret the metaphors as literal realities,
and to devise expiations, washings, purifyings, sacri-
fices, compensations of all kinds, which are supposed
to take away sin by a quasi-physical operation. And
religion of a more spiritual cast, while it has always
insisted upon the impossibility of effecting moral
purification or renewal by such means, has at least

1 Preached on a week-day in Lent.
*3

194 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

seen in such processes true symbols and representa-
tions of the spiritual change for which it yearns.
But when we turn to the moralists — even to moralists
of a lofty and spiritual type — we often miss what
is characteristic of the language of religion. We
hear no more about forgiveness, or removal of past
sin, but rather of moral improvement, of progress,
of high ideals. The past, we are often reminded, is
unchangeable and irremediable. We are not en-
couraged to look back to the past, but rather
forward to the future. Instead of the plaintive,
half-despairing cry that something should be done
for us, that a burden which is crushing us down
should be removed, we are rather reminded of our
own freedom, our power to do well now, no matter
what we have done in the past. The intrinsic good-
ness and strength rather than the evil and the weak-
ness of our own nature is set before us. We are
encouraged to forget the dead past, to be manly
and self-reliant, to waste no time in vain regrets, to
listen to the voice of Duty, and to reach out after
some high ideal.

Now, if we deal honestly with ourselves, we must,
I think, — many of us, — admit that in some ways the
teaching of the moralists comes home to us, and is
found more helpful and inspiring than the tone of
the characteristically religious teachers. We feel
the vanity and the impotence of the old attempts to
get rid of the past. We recognise — we feel that it
is good that we should recognise, that it is morally

PENITENCE AND PENITENTIAL SEASONS 195

disastrous not to recognise — that " the evil that men

do lives after them." If we have made other lives 1

miserable or base, no repentance, no oblations or

satisfactions of ours will turn those marred and

wasted lives into lives of joy and goodness. The

money that we have wasted in foolish self-indulgence,

or worse, will not come back, nor the good that it

might have done be done now, because we have

repented. And even in ourselves the seeds of ill

that the ill deeds have sown will still, if we observe

ourselves truly, now and again be springing up and

bearing their evil fruit, though we are genuinely

sorry now, though we have amended our lives, and

do the wrong acts no longer. And we feel that so

far it is not merely reason, common sense, experience,

that are on the side of the modern view. We feel

that, to a certain extent, these truths are the very

teaching of Christianity itself before it was corrupted

by after-growths of semi-pagan practice, or crude and

arbitrary theological system-making. The vanity of all

attempts to blot out the past by ceremonial rite or

outward oblation, is one of the characteristic ideas of

St Paul and of the Epistle to the Hebrews. And

further, when we come to examine the teaching of

our Lord and His apostles about repentance, we feel

that the very word that they employ for repentance

emphasises up to a certain point the teaching of

the moralists — that the past is beyond recall ; it is

the present that is important. It is not fierafieXeia

that they preach — merely wishing you had not done

196 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

what you have done — but fieravoia, change of heart,
becoming a new creature. It is a significant little
fact that one of the very few places in which the word
perafiekeadcu, the ordinary pagan word for being sorry
for a thing afterwards, is usod in the New Testament
is in connection with the remorse of Judas. The New
Testament word for repentance, /uravoia, though not
unknown to classical writers, does not (it appears) occur
in the writings of Plato or Aristotle or any distinctively
ethical writer. The very essence of the teaching of
Christianity is, then, that the important thing is what
we are now — not merely what we do, but what we
are. If the heart is really changed, God will not
impute the past. No expiation, or cancelling of the
past, or compensation of the ill-doing, is possible or is
demanded. It is a free pardon that is proclaimed by
the teaching of Christ, not a pardon on some elaborate
conditions, whether they take the form of sacerdotal
expiations, or of accepting some cut and dried system
of theological propositions, or of some mysterious feat
of emotional legerdemain. For it is not arbitrary —
this proclamation of pardon which Christianity, in
all its forms, and in spite of all attempts to obscure
it, has ever carried with it. We must not, we cannot
think that God might quite reasonably and justly
have exacted penalty or vengeance for sins past, no
matter how completely the character has altered and
the bent of the life changed, but that by as it were an
extraordinary and (as it is almost represented some-
times) unjust and arbitrary though merciful pro-

PENITENCE AND PENITENTIAL SEASONS 197

clamation, He has been pleased not only to accept the
present, but to blot out the past. It is a necessary
deduction from the character of God, as Christ pro-
claimed it, that He must (to use the ordinary language)
forgive sins. If God be really Love, if all that He
desires is that men should be good as well as happy,
He cannot be thought of as exacting retribution
for the past, when it would do no good to the altered
character. Punishment is not inconsistent with
love, if only the punishment will do good. And
Protestantism has doubtless been too dogmatically
reckless in assuming that because the sinner has
Tepented, and because God accepts that repentance,
there may not still be room for discipline, for the
improvement of the character by suffering — here and
hereafter. But then that can only be because the
sinful character is not wholly cured and transformed.
When the character is wholly changed, then there can
be no further need or use for punishment. The doctrine
of the forgiveness of sins is, then, not an arbitrary
doctrine, to be received submissively on the guarantee
of a supernatural revelation. It springs immediately
from the central truth of God's nature, as Christ
revealed it, and as our reason and our conscience,
when once opened to the light by that revelation,
compel us to think of it — the truth that God is love.

So far, then, we may say that the Christian teach-
ing about sin agrees with the thought of the higher
and the deeper moralists and thinkers of ancient
and of modern times. And all theories of the Atone-

I9& CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

ment which really deny these truths may be boldly
thrown to the winds as caricatures and obscura-
tions of the true and original Christian teaching. 1
mean all theories which represent that an angry God
has to be propitiated, or that a past has to be blotted
out, by some elaborate and mysterious transaction. )
will not pretend intellectually to explain St. Paul'i
theory of justification by faith in a phrase or two
but we may feel, I think, that the part of it whicl
is most precious and most permanent was just thi
very recognition — that it is the present state of th
heart which matters, and that is just what th
traditional theories of the Atonement have so ofte
obscured or denied.

Christianity then, rightly understood, does not cor
tradict the views of the moralists by its teachin
about sin. And yet, after all, do we not feel thi
there is something about sin, about repentance, aboi
the need of renewal, which the moralists, at least thot
of them who have not studied very profoundly in tf
school of Christ, have left out of sight ? I want I
look at the matter to-day in the most severely pra
tical light, for the guidance of our own person
religious life. Why do religious teachers insist i
much upon thinking about the past, upon repen
anoe, upon sin as a sort of positive thing which \
have got to fight and to escape from, or forgiveness
something which is somehow to get rid of that thinj
Why cannot we simply take the view of moralisii
common sense and say, " Never mind about the pat

PENITENCE AND PENITENTIAL SEASONS 199

just do your duty now, and don't bother yourself
with anxious scruples and morbid reflections " ? The
answer depends, I think, upon taking a true view
about sin, about repentance, about forgiveness.

1. About sin. What this common-sense moral-
ising is apt to forget is that a sin does not disappear
simply because the particular bad act is past, and has
not been and perhaps is not likely to be repeated.
The truth which all the crude, exaggerated language of
popular religious teaching really does represent, is that
the sin reveals a defect of character, and that the defect
remains until the character is really altered. And if
the character be really altered, the alteration must
show itself in genuine hatred and abhorrence of the
past sin. That hatred is at once the condition and
the expression of real change of character. That
hatred should be ever growing deeper and deeper as
the love of goodness grows stronger and stronger.
And that hatred cannot grow unless we do sometimes
think of our past sins — enough at least to know what
they are and what is the character which they express.
And do people always speak of their past sins,
especially of things done a good time ago, as if they
hated them? Do they not often speak of wrong
things they did at school, for instance, as if they were
rather proud of them ? Is there not need, therefore,
that we should remind ourselves that these things
were expressions of a character which is ours now
unless we have repented, unless we have come to
feel pain and shame as we look back upon them ?

aoo CHRISTUS IN ECCLES1A

Brooding over past sins is unprofitable enough, but we
must think enough about them to make ub ask our-
selves, " Are we really better now ? Under the like
temptation should we not do the same again ? And
are not the things we indulge ourselves in now, in
principle, of exactly the same kind ? "

2. As to repentance. True repentance is the changt
of character itself. That is the thing that we want tc
strive after. And therefore repentance is not a thing
that can be got over and done with, either at some great
crisis of our life or at stated intervals — all-importanl
as such stated times for self-examination and ne*
beginnings really are as an aid to spiritual growth. Foi
the things that may be done at any time are apt to be
done at no time. Hence the great value, for instance
of regular and not infrequent Communions. Sucl
opportunities are valuable just because repentance ia i
thing which ought in a manner to be always going on
as the formation of character ought always to be goinj
on. For if it is the Christian character that is beinj
formed, hatred — growing hatred — of evil, especially o
the evil that is or was in our own hearts, is ai
essential part of it. The brighter the sunlight, tin
deeper and blacker grow the shadows. And if ou
repentance is to be of this kind, it is clear that it wil
come not by brooding over the past, but by lifting u]
our hearts to higher ideals, aspirations, examples. I
not that the real meaning of the Atonement, — at leas
one great meaning of it, — that it is by looking awa;
from ourselves to the highest and purest embodiment

PENITENCE AND PENITENTIAL SEASONS 201

of ideal human nature, and especially to the greatest
of them all, to Him in whom we recognise the fullest
and completest revelation of the character of God
Himself, — that it is in that way that men are saved
from their sins ? Whatever power it is that makes us
better, that is the power which takes away sin in the
only sense in which it can be taken away — by making
the sinner hate his sin and love the good

3. And if that be the true nature of repentance,
we see the true meaning of forgiveness. Forgiveness
of sins is not (as I have tried to show) an arbitrary
remission of a purely external penalty, to be sub-
missively accepted merely on the authority of a
supernatural revelation. God must forgive the past
if it be indeed true that, though the past acts and
many of their consequences remain, the character
has been changed, the man has been made better. The
true prayer for forgiveness is identical with the prayer
to be made better. It is because Christ is the greatest
power in the world to make men better that we pray
to be forgiven through Christ, "for Christ's sake." So
long as the punishment will make a man better, there
may be forgiveness even while the punishment lasts ;
but when the sinner does wholly hate the sin and has
wholly changed his character (here or hereafter), then
there can be no further need for punishment, if indeed
it be true that God is what Christ made men feel
Him to be. The forgiveness of sins is simply an
element, a corollary of the fundamental Christian
truth that God is love.

XV.
THE ORIGIN OF SUNDAY.

ft*

•' Iliiw turn ye again to tkr w«ak and t«cfarly c
w hereunto ye drairc attain to 1* in bondage f Vr i*batrv«

Ut V

and montba, and time*, and yean. I am afraid of yum, Uat I
have lirttowrd up»n you UUwr in rain."— iSai. it. 9-11

XV.
THE ORIGIN OF SUNDAY.

IN the present chaos of opinion and of practice in
the matter of Sunday observance, it will, I trust,
be of some use to devote a sermon or two to the con-
sideration of the origin and meaning of this great
Christian institution. To-day I shall confine myself
for the most part to history and principles; next
Sunday, I shall go on to consider some practical
applications with reference to existing circumstances. 1

I must not stay to consider the obscure origins of
the Jewish Sabbath. In some form or other, as a
religious festival, it is probably older than Jewish
Monotheism. As a religious festival it is perhaps
derived, in the first instance, from sun-worship. It is
as a day of absolute rest that it becomes one of the
most distinctive features of the later Judaism.

Whatever the origin of the Sabbath, and whatever
the exact nature of its obligation for Jews, it may be
confidently stated that the observance of the Fourth
Commandment was never in the earliest ages of the

1 For a full history of the Institution, see Hessey's Bampton
Lectures, Sunday, 1861, and H. J. Hotham's Art. " Lord's Day" in
8mith's JHeL of Christ. Antiquities.

205

ao6 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

Church supposed to be binding upon Gentile Chris
tisns, except by thoee who, in opposition to the whol<
spirit of Christian liberty, wanted to lay upon Gentile
the full burden of the Mosaic Law in all its ritual ant
restrictive detail Id the words of our text, St. Pan
deliberately rebukes his converts for their observanc
of days. And I suppose no one who has entered int
the spirit of St. Paul's argument will doubt that tb
Sabbath is one of the days the observance of whio
in a Gentile was regarded by the Apostle as a relapt
into Judaism, a formal renunciation of that gret
principle of Gentile liberty which it was his specii
mission to preach. Jewish law and heathen ritu
alike had an educational value, but both alike b
longed to the childhood of the human race. "So »
also, when we were children, were held in bondaj
under the rudiments of the world." ' That was n
for the sons of God, but for those who, as childre
were for the time in the position of slaves: '
hanker after Jewish Sabbath observance was to tu
again to the weak and beggarly rudiments, to
bondage from which the acceptance of Christian]'
ought to have emancipated them. " Ye observe da.
and months, and times, and years. I am afraid
you, lest by any means I have bestowed labc
upon you in vain." ■ ■ With freedom did Christ i
us free : stand fast therefore, and be not entang
again in a yoke of bondage." '

To suppose that his only objection to this obee
1 GaL ir. 3 (R.Y.). ' (UI. It. 10, 11. « Gri. r. 1 (E.V.)

THE ORIGIN OF SUNDAY 207

ance of days was that it was the wrong day which
was observed, would be to make St. Paul stultify
himself. Had that been the Apostle's meaning, he
would have been as anxious to impress upon them the
duty of keeping Sabbath on the first day of the week
as to deprecate such an observance of the seventh
day. There is no trace in the Apostle's time, or for
some centuries afterwards, of the idea that the Fourth
Commandment was still binding on Christians, but
that by some act not precisely dated, of some
authority not precisely defined, the obligation had
been transferred from the seventh day to the first
The whole notion of such a transference is peculiarly
absurd and self- contradictory from the point of view
of those who claim for the Fourth Commandment the
authority of a direct and immediate divine revelation.
If the Church could amend such a commandment, it
could also repeal it. And if it could do that, the new
obligation — the obligation to observe the Lord's Day
—can claim divine authority only in the same sense
and to the same extent as any other command or insti-
tution of the Christian Church. As to the assertion
of the writers and preachers who declare that it
is "piously presumed" that the day was expressly
changed by our Lord during the period of forty days
in which we are told that He appeared to His disciples
after He was risen from the dead, I need only remark
that the presumption of such a hypothesis is much
more evident than its piety. It cannot be too
emphatically stated that the Christian Sunday is a

ao8 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

wholly new and purely Christian institution, having
originally no connection whatever with the Jewial
Sabbath, except in so far as it implies that division o
time into weeks of seven days which was pre
supposed but not created by the Jewish Sabbath.

There is no reason to doubt that the observance c
the first day of the week as a Christian festival, i
commemoration of the Resurrection of Jesus Chris
dates from the very earliest days of the Church
existence. The first Pentecost, according to St. Luk>
finds the Christian community at Jerusalem assemble
for purposes of worship on the first day of the week
At Troaa the disciples meet as a matter of course o
the first day of the week " to break bread," that
to say, to celebrate — evidently in the evening — tl
Eucharist and the Agape or love-feast which the
accompanied it By the date of the Apocalypse tl
day has acquired a distinctive name, " I was in tl
Spirit on the Lord's Day," a by which expression I »
no reason to doubt that the first day of the wet
is meant All through the earliest Christian writin
we find that the observance of the Lord's Day is
characteristic note of the Christian community. T)
Christian was, indeed, marked off from the heath<
world around him by his respect for a loftier co>
of purity, of veracity, and of charity, than w

1 That St Lake may sometimes read back into the first days i
□sages of his own d*7, is not improbable J but the passage U at le
evidence for the earliest period within St. Luks'l memory.

THE ORIGIN OF SUNDAY 209

observed or even professed by his neighbours, by
simplicity and self-denial, by abstinence from idol
feasts and licentious or cruel amusements, — by these
things far more than by any ritual observance. But
so far as Christianity implied any external religious
observance at all, the primary and essential note of
a Christian was that he attended a meeting for
Eucharist and worship every first day of the week.
To forsake these weekly assemblies was to renounce
the Christian profession. By 305 A.D. we find a
council enjoining that anyone who kept away from
them for three successive Sundays should " abstain for
a short time, that he may appear to be punished." 1

The observance of the Lord's Day is thus, from the
first, a universally recognised Christian duty; but
claiming no other authority than was implied in the
traditional command to celebrate the Eucharist, and
in the general duty of worship, which was not so
much a positive precept of the Church's Founder as a
necessary outcome of Christ's teaching about the rela-
tion of man to his Heavenly Father, — a necessity of
the spiritual life attested by all religious, and especially
all Christian, experience. But, clearly, the observance
of Sunday consists at present in worship and in
nothing else. In the earliest description which we
have of the Christian Church from a heathen pen,
the famous letter of Pliny to Trajan (c. 110), 2 we are

1 " Council of Eliberis," Canon xxii. (Mansi, Concilia, toI. ii.
p. 10).
* lib. x. Ep. 07.

aio CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

told that the Christians were wont, to assemble " on
stated day, before it was light, and to sing hymns '
Christ as a god, and to bind themselves by a sacr
ment [or oath], not for any wicked purpose, but nev
to commit thefts, robberies, or adultery, never to bret
their word, or to refuse when asked to give up anythii
entrusted to them " ; after which it was their custom
separate, and to assemble again in the evening to take
meal. 1 Doubtless the meeting early in the morning ai
late at night was forced upon the Christian body by t
necessity of working for the rest of the day : Bom
slaves or artisans could not have kept holiday for a
day in seven in the midst of a pagan communi
The Sunday then was observed in a quite differ*
way from the Sabbath.

No doubt the Apostles themselves would natura
have continued to observe the Jewish Sabbath as a c
of rest, in addition to keeping the Christian Lord's I
as a day of worship. But even among Jewish Chi
tianB the observance of the seventh day gradua
disappeared, or was retained only as a day of fasti
" Not to Sabbatise " is a constant injunction of
earliest Christian writings. There was as yet
obligation to abstain from work on Sunday. To mi
the day to some extent one of religious rejoicing i
relaxation from ordinary business was, however, a v
natural outcome of Christian feeling. In the coi
of time we find it more and more encouraged.

1 Whether this meat was the Eucharist itself, or whether the A
bail dow been separated from il, is a disputed point.

THE ORIGIN OF SUNDAY an

late as 364 a Council of Laodicea enacts that " Chris-
tians ought not to Judaize, or rest on the Sabbath,
bat to work on that day, and, honouring the Lord's
Day, if they can, to rest as Christians." 1 To rest
"if they can." But even Paula and her com-
panions, the little monastic community described
by St. Jerome, 2 were wont, after coming back
from church, to apply themselves to their allotted
works, and to make garments for themselves and
others.

The transformation of the Sunday from a day of
worship into a holiday in the common sense of the
term, is the natural outcome of the Christianisation of
the Soman Empire. As pagan holidays ceased to be
observed, the need was naturally felt of other holi-
days. The chaos of religions and the inordinate
multiplicity of festivals which they brought with
them, combined with his growing disposition to favour
Christianity, induced the Emperor Constantine, even
before his open conversion (in 321), to enjoin the
observance of " the day of the Sun " (there is, of course,
no explicitly Christian language) as a general holiday,
though with the restriction that in the country — in
the country, still for the most part pagan — sowing
and vinedressing, when they could not so well be per-
formed on another day, were not to be given up. 8 The

1 Canon xxiac. (Mansi, Concilia, tome ii. p. 570) : rty 6i jcv/mcucV
Tpori/i&rrat etyc Mvouvto crxoXdfei* <b$ x/wmai'ol.
'Jerome, Ep. cviii. 19.
•Cod. Justin., iii. tit. 12, 1. 3.

312 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

conversion of Constantine and the establishment o
Christianity as the religion of the empire, naturallj
brought in a gradually increasing strictness in th<
observance of Sunday as a general and a compulsory
holiday. To the injunction of worship there was no*
added, by the authority of State and Church alike
the interdiction of work, or rather of servile work
By servile work was meant the ordinary business o
life — not only manual labour, but trade, litigatior
money -making, professional employments of ever
kind. It became a day of rest — not of mere inertif
bat a day for the cultivation of the higher life, th
satisfaction of thoBe higher religious, intellectual, an
social needs for which the necessity of labour leaves t
the mass of men so little time on other days. Bt
even now the obligation of this rest was not derive
from the Fourth Commandment, nor was the Con
mandment to rest interpreted with the ceremoni
literalneBB of the Jewish scribes. It was only :
the patristic age passed into the Dark Ages th
we find this identification of Sunday with Sabba
growing up. The process was hardly complete befo
the time of Charles the Great. And we shall ha
to come down even later, perhaps to the writin
of Thomas Aquinas, to find the explicit statemei
" the Sabbath is changed into the Lord's Da;
It is curious to find the bibliolatroua Puritans
seventeenth - century England adopting as one
their moat characteristic tenets, a theory which
as much the peculiar invention of the Middle &

THE ORIGIN OF SUNDAY 213

the Transubstantiation or the compulsory confessional
which they abhorred.

And yet even the Middle Age did not condemn
such things as locomotion, secular study, or amuse-
ment on the Sunday. The identification of Sunday
with the Fourth Commandment is protested against
alike by Luther, by Calvin, and by John Knox him-
self. When John Knox went to see Calvin at
Geneva, it is said (though I cannot give the authority
for the statement) that he found him playing bowls
on a Sunday. Indeed, the earlier Protestants were
rather disposed to deprecate the whole institution as a
Popish superstition. It was as a reaction against this
tendency that the later Puritans were driven to find a
sanction for the threatened institution in the Fourth
Commandment. Sabbatarianism as a fully developed
system was first maintained in a book published by
one Dr. Bound in 1595, and it never spread much
beyond England and Scotland. In the seventeenth
century, when Isaac Casaubon taught in the Pro-
testant University of Montpelier, disputations were
still held on Sundays. 1

Now it may seem the tendency of these remarks to
inculcate a lax observance of the Sunday, or at least
to advocate the adoption in this country of what is
known as the continental Sunday. I can only say
that such is very far from my intention. But we
have no right to disguise or conceal the historical
facts because some people may proceed to draw from

1 Mark Pattison, Lift of Casaubon, 1875, p. 108.

«4 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

them inferences which we dislike. Practical applies,
tdons I must leave to another Sunday. To-day I wan
merely to lay down principles. Let me then bud
up the principles of Sunday observance in thro
propositions :

1. The observance of Sunday as a day of worship i

an apostolical and universal Christian institu
tion : it rests upon the authority of the UnJ
versal Church.

2. The duty of abstinence from ordinary and post

ponable work is also of ecclesiastical obligatioi
though of much later enactment.

3. There is no positive prohibition of amusemei

on Sunday, except so far as such prohib
tion may be necessary or desirable wit
a view to securing for all, or for as man
as possible, the opportunity of observing tl
two fundamental Sunday duties — Eest ar
Worship.
And that I may not be misunderstood, let me ac
one or two explanations :

1. As to what I mean by the authority of tl
Church, I do not think that the authority of the Chri
tian Church is a light one, provided that it is real
the Church in its true sense from which the injunctic
is derived. The Church in its true and highest sen
means " the whole congregation of Christian peop
dispersed throughout the whole world." And there
no Christian precept or institution going beyond t"
requirements of the eternal laws of morality whi

THE ORIGIN OF SUNDAY 215

can claim this authority in so high a degree. And in
this matter pre-eminently it is not the authority of
the bishops or clergy only to which we appeal, of
formal councils or patristic dicta, not the authority
of one age or country, one Church or sect, but
of the general Christian consciousness of all ages
(since the first growth of the institution) and
(amid all varieties of local custom) of all countries
and all Churches, with the exception of the insig-
nificant modern sect which still observes the seventh
day. And it is not merely custom or numbers
to which we appeaL Majorities are often wrong;
but this is an institution which has commended
itself most strongly to the most Christian minds.
No external rite or religious practice, in short, could
well come to us with a greater weight of spiritual
authority.

2. We have seen that the antiquity and continuity
of the Christian Sunday have not excluded considerable
change, adaptation, development in matters of detail.
But, in this as in so much else, it is all-important
for the Christian to bear in mind that, though all
things are lawful for him, all things are not expedient,
all things edify not. The question about this or that
piece of Sunday observance is not whether such and
such an indulgence is positively forbidden, but whether
that or something else is the better course. The
question is not whether this or that feature of the
traditional English Sunday can plead any divine
authority or any enactment of the universal Church ;

2l6

CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

hut what nort of Sunday in really Uvt \.*rr at>j
now — in the highest npiritual interna* of our*»*I*«*
unci our fellow-countrymen. On the practical n*le
of the matter I shall have nutnclhing to mx art*
Sunday.

XVI.
THE OBSERVANCE OF SUNDAY.

UT

In

ta All thing! are Uwful ; t»ut all thing* art noC »s
thing! are Uwful ; l*ut all tiling nlif) nuC * - 1 loa. t

l AB

XVI.
THE OBSERVANCE OF SUNDAY.

T AST Sunday we traced in barest outline the
-" history of the Christian institution of the
Lord's Day. We found that in its origin the
institution had nothing to do with the Sabbath, and
that its observance cannot rationally be considered
to arise from the Fourth Commandment. It was
established by the Church first as a day of worship,
then as a day of rest. Gradually, as Christianity
became the established religion of the empire and
pagan holidays disappeared, it came to be observed
with increasing strictness as a public holiday, on which
it was a duty to abstain, as far as possible, from
ordinary work ; but its identification with the Sabbath
was a blunder of the Dark Ages, revived and stereo-
typed by Puritanism. In regard to amusements, the
early Church only discouraged them in so far as they
were inconsistent with the higher uses of the day.
The prohibition of all amusement, of all intellectual
pursuits not purely religious, of all locomotion, and
of all ordinary social intercourse, was the unhappy
peculiarity of English and Scotch Puritanism, though

doubtless closely connected with much that was best

210

220 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

and most solid in the great movement which is after
all the chief source of the religion of modern England.
But the fact that the Sunday is only of ecclesi-
astical origin is no reason why it should not be
respected. The obligation is all the greater, because
here, practically, all bodies of Christians are in agree-
ment. And this duty is a threefold one : it includes,
(1) the duty of worship ; (2) the duty of rest; and,
(3) the duty of allowing others both to worship and
to rest. In considering what these obligations
practically amount to, three important principles
should be borne in mind : (1) The principle of
Church authority, which is at bottom only the great
Christian principle of brotherly love ("submitting
yourselves one to another in the fear of God" 1 ),
And the principle which requires us to observe the
rule of the universal Church, requires us also tc
respect the customs of our particular Church and time
and country. We are not necessarily condemning
Frenchmen for going to the theatre on Sunday
because we respect and approve for ourselves th<
English rule of not doing so. And (2) Churcl
authority after all must have a basis in reason. I
may be right sometimes to submit to a rule tha
we cannot approve. But Church rules were originall;
made for the spiritual good of the community. I
a later generation comes to take a different view a
to what is for the spiritual good of modern society, th
rule should be altered either by formal Church actioj

1 Eph. v. 21.

THE OBSERVANCE OF SUNDAY 221

or by the silent action of public opinion. Therefore the
ultimate basis of the institution itself must be sought
in its intrinsic reasonableness ; and in interpreting the
rule in detail we must ask what will contribute most
to the spiritual well-being of ourselves and the society
in which we live. (3) It should be remembered that
in all such matters the question for a Christian ought
to be, not what is not forbidden, but what is best.
To guide our conduct by a code of external pro-
hibitions, to give up good customs and traditions just
because we have discovered that they were unknown
to the Apostles or the ancient Fathers, is to fall into
precisely that spirit of legalism, or Judaism, against
which St Paul and his successors so strenuously set
themselves. It is to treat the Christian Lord's Day
as if it were indeed an arbitrary, positive ordinance
like the Jewish Sabbath. The question for us is
not how we may without transgressing any positive
precept of God or the Church make the least of
our Sundays, but how we may make the most of
them.

Bearing in mind these rules, let us ask what Sunday
should mean for us. That we do want worship and
that we do want rest, and that we cannot have either
unless we have particular seasons set apart for them
and fenced off from the intrusion of ordinary business
by general consent — these are points which I need
not labour. The question is, What sort of worship,
what sort of rest ? Most of the exaggerations on
this subject — most of those restrictions of the Puritan

«a CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

Sunday against which not only the worldly but the
religious mind of our day has for some time been in
acute rebellion — may, I think, be traced to the same
source, to a narrow and inadequate view of what is
meant by worship and of what is meant by rest.

First, then, worship. I do not myself think it easy
to exaggerate the importance of the general habit ol
public worship in its formal shape. All experience
seems to be against the idea that, for a community
or for individuals, the Christian ideal can long con-
tinue to exercise a commanding and paramount in-
fluence where the habit of church-going has beer
given up. Of course we all know that particulai
individuals who never go to church are sometimei
much better men than the average of those who do
But that the highest Christian character cannot at
a rule be permanently sustained without worship, it
a proposition for which we may appeal to an enor
mouB accumulation of evidence.

But, important as formal worship undoubtedly is
it would be a great mistake, it seems to me, to limi
the idea of worship in its connection with Sunda;
to the mere act of going to church. I venture fr
think that we should try to keep np the religiou
character of Sunday as a whole. That does not meai
that the entire day must be spent in reading th
Bible or other religious exercises. It means that i
should be a day set apart for the cultivation of th
higher part of our nature. Amusement of a certai
type, social intercourse of a certain type, reading o

THE OBSERVANCE OF SUNDAY 223

study of a certain type, may all form part of the
truly religious Sunday. But there should be a differ-
ence in all these respects between the Sunday and
the ordinary day, if the highest ideal of the institu-
tion is to be kept up. It is impossible, of course,
to Bay that any amusement which is not wrong on
other days is positively wrong on Sunday. But some
amusements are too much of a business ; others make
too great a demand upon our time; others involve
unnecessary labour for people who want their Sunday
as much as, or more them, ourselves; while others
seem in cm indefinable way inconsistent with the spirit
of a day specially set apart for the highest and best
things in life. So with social intercourse; nothing
can be more in keeping with the idea of Sunday at
its best than that it should be a day on which
relations and friends should meet each other. But
it is surely convenient, apart from the question of
increasing the labour of others, that there should
be one day in seven reserved, as much as may be,
for family life, for friendship, for real conversation,
rather than for mere gregariousness, or feasting, or
"society" in the conventional sense of the word.
Similarly, as to reading. A Sunday that is merely
secularised without being rationalised will leave no
time for reading : in a Sunday that is both rational
and religious, time will be carefully reserved for read-
ing — at least in the case of those who do not under-
take any sort of religious or charitable work for others
on that day. And I will plead that we should not

224 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

wholly give up the old-fashioned idea of a special
kind of Sunday reading. I do not mean that we
should read nothing on Sunday but what are com-
monly called religious books. It is well, indeed, to
remember that there is such a thing as a duty oi
religious self-education. There is a devotional life
which wants sustaining, though it is often sustained
best by works other than what would be technically
called books of devotion. And there is an intellectual
religious life which demands study. Modern scholar
ship has altered not a little our attitude to the Bible
It need not, and ought not, to be less to us thai
it was to our fathers, but it certainly will be lea
to us if the only effect of modern ideas upon it i
to make us read it less, instead of studying it inor*
intelligently. The understanding of the Bible an<
the understanding of the Christian faith in the ligh
of modern difficulties, do demand real intellectua
effort. And few are likely to find time for readin
of this kind if they do not find it on Sunday
But I do not mean to limit my idea of Sunda
reading to books which would usually be calle
religious or theological. There is such a thing t
a duty of intellectual cultivation for its own sak
Some part of the ideal Sunday might, I thin]
be given to such culture. Sunday, then, shou]
be reserved for the higher kind of reading, partici
larly for the kind of reading that inspires practic
wisdom and sustains lofty ideals. Much poetr
much biography, much history, a few novels, bi

THE OBSERVANCE OF SUNDAY 225

not so very many, may be said to belong to this
class. The important thing is not what we do not
read, but what we do read. On Sunday we should
read something that is at least a little higher, in-
tellectually and spiritually, than the ordinary week-
day reading of perhaps most people.

So much for the duty of worship. And now as
to the duty of rest The irrational kind of Sabbat-
amnion has arisen partly from a too narrow idea
of worship; still more often it has involved a too
narrow idea of rest. That refreshment of body and
mind and soul which is the ultimate use of Sunday,
demands something besides mere negative abstinence
from toil. It is a matter of familiar experience that
the most satisfactory rest is got by change of employ-
ment. We should import into our idea of Sunday rest
something of the associations of the old Greek axpky.
The word frypK^ originally meaning leisure, came to
mean school, because the idea of leisure suggested to
the Greek mind emancipation from all work that was
necessary, irksome, a mere means to an end, and so
came to stand for employment in the things which
were worth having for their own sake, intrinsically
valuable and delightful.

And this idea is, I think, well enough expressed
by the traditional definition : the work that should
not be done on Sunday is servile work — which may
be interpreted to mean ordinary business as well
as manual labour. Of course there are obvious
exceptions. There is some work that must be done

226 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

by ourselves or by others if the remainder of th<
day is to be spent in a way that conduces to it
two essential purposes of worship and rest Ther
are other occasions when the ordinary work of th
week must perforce be allowed to encroach upoi
Sunday. When work has to be done within
definite time, when the duties of our station woul
be neglected, or others would suffer, if work wei
postponed, it is mere superstition to condemn th
doing of it on Sunday. Sunday is a means to a
end, not an end in itself ; that was the real meanis
surely of the principle which our Lord Himse
applied even to the old Jewish Sabbath. If tl
Sabbath was made for man and not man for tl
Sabbath, still more so Sunday. Sunday is a meai
to an end. But as a means to an end, we cann<
too jealously guard against the gradual, insidious e:
croachments of ordinary professional or public wo:
or mere business of any kind upon the rest and e
joyment of the day.

The third principle of Sunday observance is th
each man should endeavour to make Sunday a d
of worship and of rest, not merely for himself, b
also for others. It is this principle which, mc
than any other, ought to set a limit to Sund
amusement Even when the particular amuseme
does not directly involve much labour, the gro^
of Sunday amusements may very easily lead
Sunday ceasing to be a day of worship. It is i
possible, of course, in principle, if the basis of t

THE OBSERVANCE OF SUNDAY 227

institution be what I have tried to show it to be,
to condemn Sunday boating. There is no reason
why a man living by the river should not spend
some hours of Sunday in rowing his own boat, if he
may admittedly spend the same number of hours in
walking. But if Sunday is to become the regular
time for all-day river parties, it is quite certain that
church-going will cease to be even as much the rule
as it still is in English society. If all the ordinary
amusements of life go on just as they do, or more
than they do, on other days, not only actual wor-
ship, but also that wider kind of worship and that
higher kind of rest for which I have been plead-
ing, will be simply crowded out. Surely amusement,
as it is frequently pursued at the present day, is
itself one of the things from which we want occa-
sional rest.

Moreover, many of these amusements do seriously
increase labour for others. Of course in this matter
there must be compromise. A rational Sunday can-
not be provided, at least for town populations, without
involving labour for some : though every care should
be taken that, so far as possible, the opportunity of
worship should not be wholly taken away from any
class of men, and that rest lost on Sunday should be
given back on other days. But there must be some
sacrifice, if Sunday is to be made a day of rational rest
for as many as possible. It is fanciful to suppose
that if the Museums and Art Galleries and Libraries
are open, the public-houses will be empty. Still it

2a8 CHRISTUS IN ECCLBSIA

is a rational demand, it is in the interests of tb
higher Sunday (if I may use the word), that sucl
places should be open for part of the day, and agar
that it should be possible for people to get into th
country or to pay visits to friends who live at
distance. It would be otherwise if it were pre
posed to open theatres and encourage race meeting
or cricket matches on the Sunday. The continent
Sunday means a day of amusement for one half -
the world, or perhaps less than half, at the co
of additional labour for the rest But I purpose
abstain from entering into further detail on su<
matters. Detailed applications are for each mai
conscience. I only plead earnestly that before alio 1
ing ourselves to indulge in or sanction some n<
departure from the traditional English Sunday, ,
should consider not merely whether this or that
in itself wrong on Sunday (that is the old Jewi
point of view), but how it will bear upon the r
of others, how it will bear upon the worship of oth<
what will be its ultimate and remote effects upon i
general tone and spirit of the whole institution,
is important to remember that the consequences
our acts will not stop just where we wish them
stop. For particular individuals it might well
that a game of cards on Sunday evening would
much better than the conversation in which t
would indulge if they were not playing cards,
what we have to ask is, whether the growth c
general habit of can! -playing on Sunday even:

THE OBSERVANCE OF SUNDAY 229

would or would not be an improvement upon the
established tradition. A dull Sunday is to my mind
no gain whatever to the cause of religion or morality,
but we should be very jealous of the little, silent
changes which may gradually destroy the character
of Sunday as a day for the special cultivation of the
higher life. We do not want a dull Sunday, but do
let us keep a quiet Sunday, and with it the possibility,
for ourselves and for all who desire it, of a religious
Sunday. And if we are to do this, we must have
the courage very often to refuse to do things in which
it is quite impossible to say that there is any harm.
We are not bound to do everything in which there is
no harm, or to give any reason for not doing it. We
need not condemn other people. We need not say that
this or that is wrong on Sunday. It is enough to
say that for ourselves and for our children we do
not like it, and we do not choose to do it.

If we take a broad retrospect of the history of
Sunday observance, we shall feel, I think, that
the typical Scotch Sunday, though it has been the
means of nurturing stern virtues, has not on the
whole been — at all events is not now — a real gain
to Beligion. The gloomy Sunday has often been the
one main source of revolt and reaction against the
religion of a religious house. On the other hand,
there can be no doubt that if Christianity is on the
whole a really stronger force among us, if it dominates
and influences and enters into men's lives more than
it does in most parts of continental Europe, it is very

*3°

CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

largely the more religious observance of the Sunday
that is the cause or the condition of that fact. If
Religion has not a large place in our thoughts on one
day in the week, it will pretty certainly have no place
at all on the other six.

XVII.
REVELATION AND THE BIBLE.

281

** tfciil, having of oil time spoken unto th* fitter. ;
prophet* hy diver* put ion* .ml iu ilivt-r* manners. hv.h
cnil of these da%* spoken unto u« in hia Son ' Ilia, i

(RV.)

ia«

XVII.
REVELATION AND THE BIBLE.

THESE words may, I think, serve as our best
starting-point for some considerations as to the
true nature of revelation — revelation or inspiration.
For our present purpose we may take these two
terms to mean practically the same thing. The word
revelation is perhaps the best, because the most free
from misleading associations.

That our ideas of revelation want some widening
or expansion, needs no showing ; or rather, perhaps I
should say, they are much in need of clearing up. The
widening and expansion with most of us have prob-
ably taken place of themselves, whether we wished
it or no. What is wanted is to save the whole idea
from disappearing altogether, and coming to mean just
nothing at all to us.

There is a view of revelation which has clearly
become impossible to modern men. That view was
something of this kind. God created the world, it was
supposed, and men upon it, but left them without any
natural power of attaining to the knowledge of Him or
of His will, without any natural religious faculty, and
without any natural moral faculty ; or, if men once

S33

a34 CHRISTUS IN BCCLBSIA

possessed these thing*, they had lieen so dwarfof and
stunted by the effect* of a far -off. ancestral fail, that
they might he treated an practically non-existent But
nt certain rare interval* of time, * tod. who wan thn^bt
of as commonly leaving the world ami the greater
part of its inhabitant* to take care of
("an absentee Deity," an Carlyle has it*,
and supplied various pieces of information about H
self— dogma*, historical statements, moral
ceremonial injunctions — in a supernatural way t*
certain favoured persons, authenticated and smassu*
by various interference* with the ordinary counu el
nature accomplished through the instrumentality otf
these same person*. The word* ami fields of these
favoured individual* were subsequently written tk>wm
by themselves, or more commonly by certain other
{tenons, who were equally prevented by supernatural
assistance from making the smallest mistake in tbetr
n»|Mirt, or in any comment tliey might make upm
tliat re|iorL

After a time the series of these intrquaiUuun
ceased altogether, but the written record remained.
ami by this record all men were for ever r*fuimt»
under threats of everlasting torments, to aha}* thttf
thought* and guide Uieir conduct, without any pnw
of uudenitamling the reason or ground ur pnaopfe
of what they were required to believe or to %k\
but Mmply on the basis of the hintoncal rrnknre
truit thm ititerpt«ition had actually takrn place, that
the mechanically inspireil words had actually

REVELATION AND THE BIBLE 235

spoken, guaranteed by miracles, recorded verbatim
by the mechanically guided reporters.

I will not ask how far such a creed ever com-
manded the real allegiance of any human soul. Prob-
ably there has never been a time when such an
account would have been much more than a carica-
ture of the real beliefs cherished by the most Chris-
tian souls, although it is a caricature to which at
certain periods the Theologians — the Theologians,
rather than the practical Christians — have very much
laid themselves open. I will not ask, again, how far
such a conception of revelation derives any support
from the book of which it professes to be an account,
or from the early Church to whose selection is due
that collection of writings which we commonly speak
of as the Bible.

Nor will I attempt to analyse exhaustively the
causes which are making such a conception of revela-
tion more and more impossible among us, — the
advances of physical science, wider knowledge of
other religions and their history, stricter canons of
historical evidence, more exact study of the sacred
writings themselves, and so on. I will ask rather
how we are to replace such a conception. I assume
that the old theory is dead or rapidly dying: the
question is, " What are we to put in its place ? "

Now I would insist, to start with, that it was not
merely because the historical facts upon which this
theory was based have turned out to be very different
from what they were once supposed to be, that this

as6 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

view of revelation has become impossible to us. Its
radical defect lav deeper down than that ; it entirely
misrepresented the true constitution of human nature
and its relation to God. If this were really a true
account of man's nature, what would have been the
use of a revelation to him if it had actually been
given? Think, for instance, of the moral side ol
the matter: you will see what I mean most easily
perhaps, on that aide. If man, as he was created
had really not been a moral being at all, if he hat
no natural power of distinguishing between good auc
evil, what would any revelation have availed him
He might, no doubt, on the basis of such a revelation
have accepted the fact that certain acts would h
attended by reward, while certain others would entai
punishment ; but that would not have told him tb
real difference between good and evil You ma;
make a dog abstain from certain acta from fear c
punishment, but that does not make the dog a more
being. There is no moral value in abstaining froi
things which you will be punished for doing ; so Ion
as you abstain from them merely because yon wi
be punished if you don't Tou can't take the notic
of " good "or ' duty " from the outside, as it wen
you can't (as Plato would aay) take the principle 1 ax
put it into a mind which has not got the capacity ;
least of receiving and entering into it And equal
incapable would such a mind be of applying the mor
teaching if it could once have been accepted. Wh

REVELATION AND THE BIBLE 237

would be the use to a mind which was by nature
purely selfish, incapable even of admiring and appre-
ciating unselfishness, of a supernaturally guaranteed
command to love one's neighbour as oneself? You
can't be unselfish unless you can appreciate the intrinsic
beauty and nobleness of unselfishness, and such an ap-
preciation cannot be imparted by the supernaturally
guaranteed information that selfishness will be punished.
Just think again of a man with no natural capacity
for distinguishing good and evil, attempting to make
out in detail his duty to his neighbour from his
Bible, used as a supernaturally authenticated law-book.
History has shown us at times some approach to such
a use of the Bible, and the result of it is summed up
in the adage that the devil can always quote Scripture
to his purpose.

With such a conception of human nature, the idea
of a revelation is indeed impossible — putting aside
all particular questions of evidence or historical
criticism. But such is not the view of human nature
to which we are led either by the teaching of the
Bible itself or by the thoughtful study of human
nature for ourselves. The Bible tells us that man
was created in the image of God ; and all modern
philosophy which allows any room for the idea of
God at all (and there is very little real philosophy
that does not) teaches us the same thing. We are en-
tirely on the wrong tack when we broadly and sharply
contrast reason and revelation, the purely natural
and the purely supernatural, the unassisted human

238 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

intellect with the inspired teaching of prophet and
evangelist If man was created in the image of God,
if the human intellect is (as Christian and non-
Christian teachers alike have delighted to call it) a
Bpark of the divine, there can be no unassisted human
intellect, no merely natural reason. The thoughts of
man, in so far as they are true thoughts, must all of
them come to him from God. They must all be
partial communications to us of a knowledge which
in God is perfect. And particularly, in a special and
more important sense, man's thoughts about goodness
and about God — every high and holy aspiration,
every idea of duty, every emotion of love — must be
regarded as coming to him from the one source of all
truth and all goodness. Yes; we must school our-
selves to see revelation everywhere, or we shall end
by seeing it nowhere.

At first sight it may appear, perhaps, that by thus
widening and extending our idea of revelation, we
have done away with all that gives that idea its
real value for those who rightly see in the Old
and New Testaments a true revelation of God. The
attempt to explain, it will be thought, has ended in
explaining away. But because we say that God has
revealed Himself in some measure to all men, we do
not imply that He has revealed Himself to all in equal
measure. Take once again the ethical side of revela-
tion. After all, few will deny that every man has
some natural power of distinguishing between good
and evil, right and wrong. Christians have generally

REVELATION AND THE BIBLE 239

agreed to see in conscience the voice of God Himself.
The champions of conscience in that unhistorical age,
the eighteenth century (Bishop Butler, for instance),
were too much in the habit of arguing that, but for the
distorting effect of self-deception or superstition, all
men had an equal power of deciding what was right
and wrong in any particular combination of circum-
stances. Bishop Butler, for instance, tells us that he
does not doubt that the question what he ought to
do will be decided " agreeably to truth and virtue by
almost any fair man in almost any circumstance."
In the light of evolutionary ideas, or even in the
face of an intelligent study (let us say) of Homer
and the Bible, such an idea can only be described as
a monstrous absurdity. Undoubtedly the moral code
of a savage is not the same as that of a Georgian
bishop; that of David was not the same as that of
Isaiah ; the ideal even of the ancient Christian Fathers
was not in many respects the same as that of a
modern English Christian (whether he call himself
Soman Catholic or Anglo-Catholic or Protestant).
And even in the present day we see very different
degrees of moral capacity. Not all even among good
men have an equally delicate conscience, equal moral
insight, an equally pure and lofty ideal of conduct
and character ; still less have all equally trained and
disciplined their natural capacities. For it is most
important from a practical point of view to remember
that conscience does want training quite as much
as any other intellectual faculty. Yet we may recog-

240 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

nise, alike in the dim tribal morality of the most
degraded savage and in the imperfect morality of
the most commonplace modern man of the world,
some measure of revelation : whatever of moral truth
a man has in him comes from God. And these
different degrees and measures of revelation which we
observe in the moral sphere arc still more obviously
recognisable in the strictly religious sphere.

We need not shrink from discerning in the
dimmest, vaguest feeling after God which we can dis-
cern in the lowest of heathen religions, the working
of the self-same Spirit which was outpoured in so
much higher and fuller a way upon the great prophets
of Judaism. But more emphatically even than with
the moral consciousness, it must be asserted that the
highest developments of the religious consciousness
have been the especial privilege of few nations and
few individuals. It is chiefly through recognising
appropriating, and participating in the truth which ii
revealed to the few that the many can attain th<
measure of religious insight which is granted to them
I do not mean that they must accept blindly, an<
purely on external authority, the truth which is com
municated to the few, though that must, from th
nature of the case, represent the earliest stage c
religious education. The same Spirit which was out
poured in exceptional wise upon the few is granted i
some measure to the many, and enables them t
recognise the voice of God in the utterances of th
prophet or the religious genius. It requires son

REVELATION AND THE BIBLE 241

poetic feeling to appreciate the poetry of Shakespeare,
bat not so much as it takes to be a Shakespeare.
And so, though not all men are prophets, no man can
say that Jesus is the Lord but by the Holy Ghost,
— the Holy Ghost dwelling in some measure in him,
in fuller measure in the Christian society in whose life
he participates.

Now I think that this principle of degrees in
revelation will help us to clear up our minds about
a question on which it is very important at the
present day that we should have clear ideas — the
sense in which we ascribe an exceptional position to
the Old and New Testaments. We cannot look upon
what we call the Bible as the only revelation, or as
in all its parts an equally perfect revelation of God.
There are parts of the Old Testament which certainly
teach a lower morality and lower ideas about God than
the writings of many non-Jewish sages. The philo-
sophically educated Greek Fathers always recognised
the work of the Greek philosophers as, no less than the
teaching of the Jewish prophets, a prmparatio Evangelii.
The Old Testament is a record of religious evolu-
tion — not of the whole of it, but of a particular
section of it, — a section of it which is of peculiar and
exceptional importance to the world for two reasons.
It is a history of the process by which a certain
little Syrian tribe with a primitive religion, originally
not very different from that of surrounding tribes,
gradually came to see in their tribal deity Jehovah

the Creator and Buler of heaven and earth, the one
16

24* CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

only tnie find, a God |>erfectly righteous, ami del^bt-
ing in righteousness. And that is a prorem ahsWulriy
unique in the history of the world. Isolated thinker*
elsewhere had glim|ises of the truth, hut the Jews
were the first great monotlietstic people. Thai fart
alone must for ever give to the Jewish liable a unaqae
aud imperishable predominance among the n4*gto*»
literatures of the ancient world for all who heber* m
(tod, though we shall do well at the same time to
insist very strongly on the fact that it is the nit
result of the development, rather than iu
stages, which differentiates it so strongly from
collections of sacred U*>kA

And that brings me to the second ma^m which
gives the Old Testament its exceptional |««it**L It
slumis in an exceptionally close connection with the
religion founded by One in whine life, whose
whose religious consciousness the conscience of
kind has recognised, and recognises still, the huchsl
manifestation, the highest representation and i a o a nss
tion of God Himself. We rani and reverence the New
Testament because it is the sounre of all thai wv know
about Christ We must n«4, indeed, talk as though
lation ended with Christ Christ Himself {it wv
nyunl the representation of the Fourth ttospel as
not altogether without historical foundation ) taught
the same Spirit which was {toured out without
upon Him. would li\t* and move in the religious
which lie was founding . and that the work ol
Spirit was uecesBary to bring home and adapt to

REVELATION AND THE BIBLE 343

wants of successive ages what He had taught. " He
shall take of mine, and shall show it unto you."
Christianity now means to us much besides the
ijmssima verba of Christ Himself or of His immediate
Apostles; it has taken up into itself much that is
good and true from other sources, but all that is
most essential in it has grown out of what was done
and said by the historic Christ. In the mind and
character of Christ we still see the highest revelation
of God. The testimony of the Spirit — the Spirit of
God working in individuals and in human society — to
the unique character of the revelation which has been
made to us in Christ, must ever be the true basis,
the true evidence of Christianity. The history of
revelation is simply the religious history of the world,
as it presents itself to the real believer in a personal
God, and a God revealed in a personal Christ, the
history of the world as a history of gradual and pro-
gressive self - revelation to mankind. Inspiration is
gradual; it is progressive; it admits of degrees; it
culminates and centres in the revelation through
Christ and (let us not forget to add) the continuous
revelation to the Church which He founded. Such
seems, then, to be the view to which we are led alike
by a survey of the religious history of mankind and
by the teaching of the Epistle from which my text is
taken. God revealed Himself not all at once, not equally
to all, but by divers portions and in divers manners,
and all previous revelation was a preparation for the
revelation in which God has spoken to us by His Son.

XVIII.
THE OLD TESTAMENT.

"God, having of old time spoken unto the fathers in 1
prophets by divers portions and in divers manner?, hath at 1
end of these days spoken unto us in his Son." — Hkb. i. 1
(R.V.).

*46

XVIII.
THE OLD TESTAMENT.

REVELATION is gradual. Revelation is pro-
gressive. Eevelation admits of degrees. Such
was the view of revelation in general at which we
arrived last Sunday. And it is the view which has the
sanction of the writer of this Epistle to the Hebrews.
God spake to the fathers " by divers portions and in
divers manners," — piecemeal, imperfectly, progressively.
And the revelation was made pre-eminently through
the prophets. It is a mistake, no doubt, to speak of
the truth that is attained by the ordinary operation
of the human intellect as though that came to us
without God. All truth in a sense comes fropi God,
especially the truth about God But it is natural
and reasonable that we should especially associate
the idea of revelation with exceptional men, — the
men in whom the moral or the religious faculty is
most developed, the men of spiritual insight, the men
of religious genius, the men who have taken the great
forward steps in religious development, — the teachers,
the leaders, the prophets. It is especially with such
men's minds that we associate the idea of revelation
or inspiration.

247

248 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

And such men have not nil been men of the Jewwb
race. Assuredly, if the idea of inspiration m to
anything at all to us, it cannot be limited to the
tents of the Old and New Testaments. It was natural
that the writer of our Epistle, a Jew writing to Jew*
should think primarily of the revelation to the
prophets — the fullest and most important
which the world was to receive )«fore the eotnsng of
Christ But the principle that God had spokna la
others than Jews is not without recognition, citb in
the pages of the New Testament itself. The (jennies*
St Paul recognised, who listened to the voice of con-
science had the work of the law written in their heart*. 1
and the Fourth (lospcl recognises in the person of
Christ the full and complrU* incantation «►/ the **ae
Word of (tod who luul been gradually revealing Hun-
self to man in creation, in reason, in confeience. a* well
as in the law and the prophets — M the light whirfc
lighteth every man coming into the world." * Sull
more explicit are the philom»|ihicaUy educated Greek
Fathers lliihiemphv thev descril* verv much as Sc
Paul does the Jewish law, as a divinely appointed
schoolmaster t«> l»iin;j m<*n t«» Christ A 1*1 in a
CuUx'hism of the modem Grwk Chun h— a I aWt hmn
ptiMiahed hv ;iutl*>tit\ of th*« Svnod of thr H«4v
Orthodox Chun h ui Allien** * — 1 tr/oir* V* intd lh»
following «ui*w<*r : " Jcsu* Christ t-auit* iuU> U*e w\«rU
after many agv» of ptv|«uutioti- TTie Jew*

R m u. IV » J.k« l t JL\ V

* A U*a*Uw*a Ui U*» ^Unk«i by Uw *»t*.ClL

THE OLD TESTAMENT *49

prepared by God for the coming of Jesus ChriBt
through the patriarchs, Moses, and the prophets . . .
but the Gentiles were prepared through men of great
reasoning power and wisdom, — to wit, Socrates, Plato,
and others, — who perceived the wrongness of wor-
shipping many gods, and whose minds were lifted up
to the idea of one God."

Why then do we associate the idea of revelation in
a special sense with the books known as the Old and
New Testaments ? How far can we justify the ex-
ceptional and pre-eminent position accorded to those
collections in the teaching and worship and reverence
of the Christian Church ? Let me in some brief way
attempt a plain answer to these questions — this
Sunday as to the Old Testament, next Sunday as
to the New.

The Old Testament is a record of the religious
history of the Jewish people. We should look for
revelation or inspiration rather in the religious and
ethical ideas which it records, and in the minds which
were possessed by these ideas, than in any special
personal endowment of the individual who chanced
to put those ideas into writing. That is a principle
which I think it is important to insist on. We now
know that the composition of the books of the Old
Testament was a much more gradual and complicated
affair than was once supposed. Many of the books
of the Old Testament are compilations from various
earlier works N put together by one editor, or perhaps
several successive editors. But from a religious point

2 5 o CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

of view it matters little to us who wrote them. The
measure of their inspiration is simply the measure of
the divine truth which they contain. The books are
the record of a revelation, rather than the revelation
itself.

The Old Testament is a record of one great branch
of the world's religious history, that history which
from one point of view is the continuous, though
broken and intermittent, self-revelation of God to the
world. One great branch of the whole current. But
why that branch more than any other ? Why is the
religious history of the Jews more important to us
than any other section of pre-Christian history ?
The history of Israel is of exceptional importance —
for two reasons :

1. On account of its own intrinsic value. The
Jewish nation was the first of the nations of the
earth to attain to the monotheistic faith — to believe
in one God, and to conceive of that God as wholly
spiritual and wholly righteous. Philosophers you
may find here and there who had had glimpses at
least of the same truth ; certainly, a little later, there
were non-Jewish philosophers who taught pure and
high monotheism quite independently of Jewish 01
Christian influence. But Judaism was the first
great monotheistic religion ; that by itself gives the
religious literature of the Jews an exceptional and
imperishable place in the history of the world. We
now know better than we once did how slowly and
gradually this supreme truth was reached. The re-

THE OLD TESTAMENT 251

ligion of Israel was once not very different from the
religion of surrounding peoples. Jehovah or Yahweh
(as we are now taught to say) was originally a
tribal God; and though the history of Israel in
its present form has been edited by purely mono-
theistic compilers, you will still find much language
in the Old Testament which seems to suggest that the
Jews thought of their God rather as more powerful
and beneficent than the gods of the surrounding
nations, than as the only true God among a host of
pretended or unreal gods. But slowly and gradually
the Jews, under the guidance of highly inspired pro-
phets, attained first to what has been called monolatry,
£& to the worship of their national god to the exclu-
sion of all others, and then to monotheism pure and
simple. They came to identify their national god
with the one only God of the world, the Creator, the
purely spiritual Being whose will is expressed in the
moral law ; while as to the gods many and lords many
of the heathen, " their idols are silver and gold, even
the work of men's hands. They have mouths, and
speak not; eyes have they, and see not. They have
ears, and hear not ; noses have they, and smell not ;
. . . neither speak they through their throat. They
that make them are like unto them ; and so are all
such as put their trust in them." 1 Slowly and gradu-
ally was this high faith attained even by the most
inspired minds ; still more slowly was it communicated
to the nation at large. Only after the Exile did the

1 Pa. cxv. 4-8 (Prayer-Book).

*5* CHRISTUS IN BCCLESIA

higher religion of the prophets become the rrligni of
the whole nation, — perhaps we ought strictly to mj
of that comparatively small section of the
which was carried into captivity. Bat
no less revelation because it is gradual,
oomes in very small fragments to many different
— M by divers portions and in divers manner*" We
read and reverence the Old Testament, then, tuos—
it contains the tir*t, the most classical — among f**»
Christian writings the most sublime and must insyai w i
—expression of the (Mire theistic faith, the faith ta
one all-righteous <u*l, and of that higher and starter
morality which is the natural accompaniment of faith
in a righteous (tod.

To the last, no doul»t,*»mo element* of imperfect**
clun^ U» the Jewish monotheism. High as ihe sen«d
Isaiah's idea** of (tod n*e ulM»ve that «»f Uw angry,
revengeful, jealous (tod of early Judaism, though he
looked to the time wlwn the nation* should * fear the
name of the Lord from the went, and his glory tt^m
the rUing of the sun, " * it won alway* a* the tub/oct
vandals of Uniel that the (tentile* wen* U> Uc pn%i~
leged to worship at the shrine of Isiae!'* ChkL * Hie
sons of H milium Khali I mild up thy *alU, and their
kilii^ shall liiimttfi unto thee : f«* thr 11*1*41

aud kniK'iloiii that hJI not *«M\e tht^* ^m11 |«*tv«4i *
MoIt*»\er. Hide by -ide With the ilirfYOAlli^ »|<iriluaht%
uui uimersahsui of |4«»j»hetu* Uwhiit}:. we run Irmert
.il-»* tlit? growlh of ;ui e\er ^tukr and u*ii\*wrr

» Im. !.i. IV. » Im. !&. IS, li.

THE OLD TESTAMENT 253

insistence upon ritual details and legal ordinances,
which culminated in the Pharisaism of our Lord's time.
To set Judaism free from these fetters and restrictions,
to moralise, to spiritualise, to universalise the teaching
of Judaism, was the work of our Lord Jesus Christ.

2. And this fact suggests the second of the reasons
which place the religious literature of the Jews in an
exceptional position. It stands in a closer and more
intimate relation than any other section of religious
history with the career of Him in whom we believe
that the self-revelation of God to the world has
reached its central point. For those to whom the
teaching of Jesus occupies a unique position in the
world's history, the Old Testament must necessarily be
a subject of especial interest and study. Even what
is weakest, what is most primitive, most barbaric, least
spiritual in the Old Testament, must be known, if we
would understand the teaching of Christ. We must
know what the Jewish law was, if we would under-
stand Christ's denunciations of the scribes and Phari-
sees. We must know the limitations of Judaism, the
narrowness and exclusiveness of its creed, if we would
understand how Christ transcended and universalised
it in His teaching about God as the common Father
of all men. And then, as to the highest elements in
the Old Testament, the teaching of Christ and His
apostles presupposes them. We rarely find Christ
explicitly teaching the unity of God, the duty of
obedience to His will, the law of purity and other
elementary laws of morality ; for all these truths were

a54 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

universally accepted by the Jewish nation, to which.
primarily, Christ's teaching wan addressed. Hatfiw*-
ally, Judaism is the presupposition of Christianity .
educationally, the Old Testament is the natural inlnv
duction U> the New.

How far should the view of revelation which 1
have taken, which we are all ( I imagine) more ur has
unconsciously coming to take, modify our practical
use of the Old Testament?

1. In the first place, I think it should lead as to
distinguish more deliberately between different parts
of the Old Testament If the Old Testament is thr
record of a religious evolution, we cannot expect thai
all parts of it should tie equally edifying. I <taU
wish that this principle had been tietter attended to
by those who compiled tlie table of First Lea* an far
Sunday* which we now use. A revised table o! Fim
Lessons is, it seems to me, one of the must
needs of the Church of England at the
moment It is not profitable to go on reading S
day alter Sunday sanguinary stories from the wars of
the Jews and similar uuedifying narTmtivea Bat if
we do read tliem. it is well to remember thai we are
muling the hintory of the Jewish nation cooiptWd
long after the events, by writer* who cannot always
be regarded as critical historians, and whose narrative
is deeply coloured by their own very imperfect
undeveloped religious ideas. It is just the
logical idea*, indeed, which give the narraiitcs the
whole of their rvligioun value. But then we mi

THE OLD TESTAMENT 255

remember that not only are these stories not always
authentic history, but the moral and theological
ideas by which the narrative is coloured were very
imperfect ideas — ideas which are in much need of
correction in the light of that higher revelation which
in the fulness of time God made by His Son.
Christians cannot, for instance, suppose that God by a
direct miraculous interposition ordered the destruction
of the Canaanites. The Christian mind has always
been puzzled and perplexed by the moral aspect of
the Old Testament. It has, indeed, generally (alas !
not always or adequately) been acknowledged that
Christians must not take all the actions of Old
Testament heroes or the ethical teaching of all Old
Testament writers as examples or precepts for their
own guidance. That they could not suppose with-
out making the revelation in Christ superfluous or
misleading, or without falling into the idea that the
fundamental laws of morality are liable to be changed
from time to time by arbitrary divine decree. But
still the difficulty could not wholly be removed while
people thought of inspiration as a gift of infallibility.
Surely it should be a positive relief to feel that, in the
light of modern criticism, we are no longer bound to
accept as historical facts narratives presupposing con-
ceptions of the divine nature which all Christians
have abandoned. And this principle cannot be too
constantly borne in mind in teaching the Old Testa-
ment to children. Let them, I should venture to say,
be taught plainly from the first the imperfection of

256 CHRISTUS IN ECCLBSIA

Old Testament morality. Let them be taught .
little as possible that they will inevitably have
unlearn. Let them be taught from the first to loc
upon the Old Testament in a very different light fro
that in which they look upon the New. It would 1
a good thing, perhaps, that they should have the Ne
Testament put into their hands in a separate voluri
from the Old

2. It is not natural that modern Christian
though they will, of course, read the Old Testamei
histories as literature and as history, — history, <
course, which, like all other ancient history, must t
read in the light of criticism, — should regard tt
Pentateuch or the Book of Judges with the sano
reverence with which they were regarded by militai
Puritans, or should feel driven to make them edifyin
by reading into the lives of the patriarchs, for instano
the most forced and improbable morals. On the othc
hand, the modern study of the Bible has only made u
understand all the better the immense spiritual valu
of the prophetic teaching. The law had its place, c
course, in the education of Israel and of the world
but St Paul always taught that that place was a ver
subordinate ona It was the prophets who create<
what may be called the higher Judaism. It is fror
the prophets that modern Christians may best lean
those lessons which must be the necessary basis o
every higher Christian theology or morality, — fron
their stern teaching about the unity and the holi
ness of God, and the justice of His government

THE OLD TESTAMENT 257

their tremendous denunciations of cruelty, oppression,
or inordinate luxury (or let us say in modern language,
of the inordinate haste to be rich, of unscrupulous
company-promoting, of sweating, of taking high rents
for insanitary house property, and the like); their
solemn enforcement of the elementary, but, alas! in
these days how difficult, social virtues — of paying a
just wage, of commercial honesty, of mercy and
charity to the poor, and moderation in expenditure
upon self. " Woe unto him that buildeth his house
by unrighteousness, and his chambers by wrong ; that
useth his neighbour's service without wages, and giveth
him not for his work ! " 1 Modern society assuredly has
much to learn from the prophets before we can say
that all these things we have kept from our youth,
and begin to ask what more is demanded by the
Christian gospel of universal brotherhood. Christians,
then, should read the prophets and the Psalms more
than the histories, and in the prophets especially
those parts which are most inspiring, most practical,
most Christian.

In the prophets, as preachers of pure monotheism
and of personal righteousness, the inspiration of the
ancient world attained its highest level On the
ethical side — perhaps even on the theological side —
we might find passages of some few non-Jewish
teachers not unworthy of comparison with them.
But in one respect Jewish literature is unique — as a
literature of devotion. Socrates and Cicero had noble

1 Jer, zzii. 13.
17

258 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

things to say about God and about duty;-
and all that side of character which is cultivated
stimulated by devotion, was scarcely known to 1
Even the Christian Church has never succeed!
creating a literature of devotion to take the
of the Psalms, though it has read new and h
meanings into their words.

These seem, then, to be a few of the ways in v
that wider view of revelation to which modern k
ledge leads us should modify our religious use of
Old Testament And they are only new applica
of a principle which no era of the Christian Ch
could ever formally have denied — the principle ol
subordination of Old Testament revelation to
New. In one sense, no doubt, Christ came to 1
and not to destroy. But it is true also that •
law and the prophets were until John : since 1
time the kingdom of God is preached." 1

1 Luke xvi. 16.

XIX.

THE NEW TESTAMENT.

*•

M He whom OoJ hath *rnt •|*akrth the w.**!t t*f l»«l K* Gt4
giveth not the Spirit by lm-**afc *.%.\> A»»«. J M^ i.i 14

XIX.
THE NEW TESTAMENT.

T HAVE been trying in my last two sermons to
-■- lead you to a view of revelation in which the
old hard and fast distinction between revealed and
unrevealed, inspired and uninspired, mere natural
knowledge and wholly supernatural knowledge, dis-
appears ; in which we recognise all moral and spiritual
truth as inspired, as coming from God whenever it
comes and to whomsoever it cornea From this point
of view the place of any such hard and fast distinction
will be taken by a distinction of degree. The Bible
becomes to be not an inspired book among uninspired
books, but an exceptionally inspired book, or rather
an exceptionally inspired series of books.

So far as the Old Testament is concerned, the
altered views of revelation which the fuller know-
ledge and minuter study have brought with them,
does, I believe, really bring a sense of relief to many
Christian minds. It comes as a relief to them to
feel no longer obliged to apologise for the treachery
of Jael or to detect far-fetched typical meanings
in the minutiae of Hebrew ritual. A bolder recog-
nition of the imperfection of the Old Testament has

262 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

only thrown into relief the spirituality and complet
nese of the New. Many people would be willing, i
doubt, to accept the wider point of view of revelatu
as regards the Old Testament, provided only that th<
may still regard the New Testament as containing
revelation of God in a unique and paramount sent
How far, then, I propose to ask to-day, can *
accord such a position to the New Testament ? F
argument and discussion of particular problems
history or criticism there will be no time, but I tru
it will not be useless to try to give a direct ai
connected answer to the question, "In what sen
can we regard the New Testament as somethii
unique, exceptional, unlike other books?" Tl
answer, I think, is that we can and ought to regai
the New Testament with unique and exception
reverence, provided we remember one or two principl
on which I have already insisted.

1. In the first place, it is of absolute importance \
bear in mind that it is not the words of the book, bi
the moral and spiritual truths contained in it, thj
constitute the measure of its inspiration. "It is n<
books that are inspired, but men." 1 And the e:
ceptional and peculiar inspiration which we recognii
in the New Testament ought to be found not so muc
in its actual writers, as in the teaching of Him aboi
whom they wrote. It is not St Mark or St. Luke t
whose teaching we attach exceptional importance, bi

1 This principle has been insisted upon by the Bishop of Worcest
and others.

THE NEW TESTAMENT 263

Jesus Christ. It is in the life and character and
teaching of Jesus that the conscience of humanity
recognises the highest and fullest revelation of God's
nature that the world has ever received. I must not
stay to ask in detail why we place Christ in this
unique position. I assume that we do so ; and as to
our reasons for doing so, I will say only that they
must be found in the last resort simply and solely in
the appeal which the moral and religious conscious-
ness of Christ makes to our own moral and religious
consciousness. " What man knoweth the things of a
man, save the spirit of man which is in him ? even so
the things of God knoweth no man, but the Spirit
of God." 1 "No man can say, Jesus is Lord, but
in the Holy Spirit." 2 It is only the measure of the
Spirit, the measure of moral and spiritual insight,
which is given to each individual or to the Church of
God collectively, that can recognise the exceptional
outpouring of the Spirit in the Person of Jesus Christ.
If, then, we do feel that Jesus is more to us, has been
and still is more to the world, than any other of those
great teachers on whom the Spirit of God has rested, —
just in proportion to the strength of that conviction
will the books that tell us about Him be treasured
and prized by us.

2. Secondly, we have even more need to apply
our principle of degrees of inspiration within the
limits of the New Testament than we had in the case
of the Old. It is because these books tell us about

1 1 Cor. ii. 11. * 1 Cor. xii. 8 (R.V.).

264 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

Christ that we accord to them an exceptional rev
ence; and it is in proportion as they tell us atx
Christ that we must regard them in that lig
It is rather a pity, in some ways, that we have 1
the old medieval habit of treating the Gospels w
special and peculiar reverence. The difficulty
procuring copies of the Gospels by themselves has I
for instance, insensibly and imperceptibly to the hal
of swearing upon and kissing the whole New Test
ment. In the Middle Ages it was the Gospels alo
that men touched as the symbol of their faith. Bi
of course, it would be a crude application of o
principle of degrees of inspiration if we were mere
to assume that the Gospels as a whole were mo
inspired and more authoritative than the Epistl<
The principle for which I have contended will comp
us to draw a distinction between the words of Chri
and the mere glosses or comments or interpretatioi
of the Evangelists. And then modern criticism wi
not let us take even the Gospel discourses as being a
of them equally a faultless record of the life and teacl
ing of Jesus Christ. I believe that the general resu
of sober criticism is that we have in the Gosp
records a substantially trustworthy account of the lii
and still more of the teaching of Christ. They preser
us with a picture of a unique personality, and ths
personality is, as critics are more and more generall
admitting, a historical personality, not the gradua
growth of myth-making imagination. But it is quit
consistent with this view to recognise that this o

THE NEW TESTAMENT 265

that incident in the recorded life of Christ is un-
historical or exaggerated ; that this version of some
saying or discourse of Christ is more accurate than
that; that one Gospel is more trustworthy for the
sayings of Christ, and another for His doings, and so
on.

At the same time, if we compare the Gospels
together, we do undoubtedly find discrepancies. In-
consistent versions of an incident or of a saying
cannot both be true. Unless we attribute to the
Evangelists a mechanical inspiration, an infallible
memory, and an infallible judgment, which they do
not claim for themselves, we are perfectly free to
accept or reject particular narratives which there is
reason for questioning, without being bound to reject
other narratives which there is no reason for
rejecting. The most precious parts of the teaching
attributed to Christ possess a self-evidencing origin-
ality which no criticism can shake. If we are
faithful to our principle, that the unique authority of
the Gospels is due only to what they tell us of Christ,
we shall be thankful for any criticism which helps
us to get closer to the very words of the Master
than those do who treat the Gospels — all of them
equally and equally in every part — as verbatim reports
of the Master's utterances. And for those who feel
that they have no leisure or inclination or capacity
for going behind the written letter, let me add that if
they read the New Testament to get real spiritual
light, to find out what manner of men they ought to

266 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

be, they may do so with absolute confidence. Th
which really appeals to them spiritually, that whit
commends itself to their conscience, is probably
substance the teaching of Christ ; or, if it is not, th
is not a matter of the very first importanca F
there is another principle which we ought to bear :
mind — the principle of development.

3. That represents the third of the rules which ?
ought to apply to our use of the New Testameo
We must remember that our Lord's teaching require
to be developed and applied through the teaching <
the Holy Spirit. The writers of the New Testamen
when they go beyond Christ's own words, represent tl
beginnings of this development. It is the nearnei
in which they stood to the supreme Revealer, and th
greater opportunities they enjoyed of catching His spiri
that command a reverence which we do not accord t
the writings of later teachers. We all recognise thii
I think, with regard to the Epistles. We see in then
the impression which Christ's teaching made on th
first generation of His hearers, their applications of i
to the life and organisation of His Church, the firs'
attempts to formulate and express the Church's sens*
of the unique importance of Christ and His teaching —
in a word, the beginnings of Christian dogma. But
this principle of development was at work to some
extent even in the Gospels themselves. In the
Fourth Gospel particularly it is impossible altogether
to separate the actual teaching of the Master from the
Evangelist's commentary upon it. Text and commen-

THE NEW TESTAMENT 267

tary are fused into one. But because we can trust
St. John's discourses as the ipaimma verba of Christ
less than the discourses of the three other Gospels,
that is no reason why we should not recognise in
them a legitimate development of the Master's teach-
ing. For instance, I see no insuperable difficulty in
supposing that our Lord may have said, " I am the light
of the world." Later parts of that great discourse no
doubt show unmistakable signs of St. John's peculiar
style and mannerism ; yet it is not impossible that
those first words may represent a genuine saying of
Christ. But suppose Christ did not say, " I am the light
of the world." If Christ really was the light of the
world, if the Evangelist had the insight and penetration
to grasp that truth, we may still read that marvellous
chapter with the same glow of emotion and of thank-
fulness with which it has been read by the countless
multitude to whom Christ was much and criticism
nothing. The first three Evangelists are doubtless
more accurate reporters of the very words of Christ ;
doubtless they present us with a better picture of His
actual method and manner of teaching. But it is a
higher, not a lower, degree of inspiration that enabled
St. John to divine and to express so nobly all that
Christ has been to the world, — all that He ought to
be, and still may be to us. And the inspiration will be
the same, if we suppose that some disciple of St. John
was the actual author of that wonderful Gospel.

The New Testament, besides preserving the actual
picture of Christ's historic personality, represents the

268 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

beginnings of that development which He Himse
(it may be) led His disciples to expect For obvioi
reasons, the beginnings of that development posses
broadly speaking, exceptional importance. But the
are not all equally important, not all equally faithfi
to the spirit of the Master. We are quite free t
recognise that St Paul's magnificent grasp on th
universalism (to use the modern phrase) of Christ
teaching is of more importance than his low estimat
of marriage ; that the Apocalypse (doubtless compile
out of Jewish materials by a Christian hand) has less i
it of the spirit of Christ than the Johannine Epistles
And we shall be quite prepared to recognise, as th
early Church recognised, that the line which separate
the least well attested or the least intrinsically
valuable book inside the Canon from many books tha
lie outside it is a shadowy and a shifting one. W<
are quite free to say that the second of the Epistlei
attributed to St. Peter, which many Churches long
rejected, contains less valuable Christian teaching thai
the stirring First Epistle of Clement or the mystic
" Shepherd of Hernias," which many Churches long
read as canonical Scripture. Roughly speaking, we
recognise the sound instinct which guided the selection
of the books which were to be read in churches, and
to be regarded as the standards of Christian faith and
practice. And some such selection was obviously
necessary for practical purposes. But we must not
let the idea of a sacred Canon stand between us
and the recognition either of the unique authority of

THE NEW TESTAMENT 269

Christ Himself or of the continuous inspiration of His
Church. Christ should be looked upon as the centre
(as it were) of inspiration. The prophets before Christ
pointed to Him ; the prophets after Christ start from
Him, look back to Him, take their stand upon Him.
But the revelation of God to the world goes on still.
The Spirit which was poured out without measure
upon Him is still given, in different ways and in
different measures, to the sons of men.

One naturally shrinks from speaking in a way
which may seem, even to a few, to be what people call
"preaching against the Bible." But I believe it is
impossible to teach people clearly what the Bible
is unless we do sometimes say also, with some plain-
ness of speech, what the Bible is not. The Bible \
has far more to fear from dishonest apologetics and
vague evasive platitudes, than it has from the fullest
proclamation of the truth about it. Let me illustrate
the point by a parallel case. I take no pleasure in
harping upon the defects of other communions. But
it is a fact that the Church of Borne claims to be
infallible, and yet surely commands among educated
people less influence and less belief in her dogmas than
other Churches secure which claim less for themselves.
Let us not doubt that it will be so with the Bible.
The way to persuade people that the Bible is simply
an obsolete collection of folk-lore and old wives' fables,
is to tell them, or to let them think, that the Bible
contains no mistakes, and that all parts of it are of
equal value.

tjo CHRISTUS IN ECCLBSIA

It must be recognised that it 10 lea* easy for »
than waa once the caae to extract from the Bible thai
spiritual help and strength which it is still ahfe to
afford. It demands effort, and intellectual efdet ; aad
there is nothing that urnst men shrink from
intellectual effort. Superstition is pleaaan
it saves people so much trouble. When ooce U»
critical faculty has been awakened, it is scarcely pos-
sible that the Bible can 1*5 to us all that it m?

«

once have been, unless we make the intellectual
effort to understand it tatter ; to understand it better
than it is understood either by unquestioning ortfe>
doxy or self-satisfied mid pelf-complacent arrpOrMa.
If 1 sjieak U» anyone who i* all at mm in Mich n«**fccri»
who want* to know more uUjuI what I mav call ihe
modem view of the New Testament, and vet <km mA
know where to turn to read aluut it, let me
to him as book* to Uyin uj*»n, the now cl
Etc* Hvmo} and Hinhop Moorbotue's admirmide Uuir
work, Tki Teaching of Jesus.

And yet I am far from su^^ting that the Sew
Testament has lost its direct spiritual and practical

value to those who ami pi v rvad it dav bv dav m a

■ « • • •

message fn»ui (tod. as a mmnt of piidance and t»-
•pi ration, witli a \iew of definitely finding out wfaal
(tod wills them to d<> day by day, and of kcrfxftg
ever l**fore tlieir mind* the example of l*hnst« th*
thought «>f (fud. the m&hty of the spiritual w**»l

1 I quit* rtcujpiu* ih* rf.t>-*I Uf«* u «>f JCanr £T#«M k h»t cntftaft!

THE NEW TESTAMENT 271

Yes, if it is really spiritual guidance that you are in
search of, you are not likely to go wrong, either
because you know nothing of what is called modern
thought, or because, knowing something of it, your
mind is filled with doubts and questioning about
historical and critical difficulties, — if it is really
spiritual guidance that you want, and not texts to
fling at the head of theological opponents. It is only
because I fear that many, having discovered that
the regular reading or hearing of the Bible is not a
charm which works like magic, have given up that
precious habit, that I am anxious to insist that, though
not a spiritual charm, it is, intelligently used, a
spiritual food and a spiritual medicine.

Does anyone say or think, "There are other
books — non - Christian books — which are spiritually
as edifying as the Bible"? I do not think many
people have really found them so. But, granted that
they are, do you read those books ? Do you read
them, I mean, regularly and systematically, as Christian
people read the Bible ? Is it Marcus Aurelius that
some one would suggest as a practical substitute for
the Bible, or some Buddhist scripture which (without
perhaps knowing more than its name) the dabbler in
comparative religion alleges to contain ethical teach-
ing as high as that of the New Testament ? Doubt-
less in these books too are to be found some things
which holy men have written as they were moved by
the Holy Ghost. But do you read Marcus Aurelius
or your Buddhist scripture, or do you read anything

272 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

to remind you, daily, regularly, at a fixed hour, of 1
duties and the aspirations that are so easily forgott
to strengthen you against the temptations that s
round you in the day's work, to prevent you sink:
ever more deeply and more hopelessly into the slot
of worldliness and self-indulgence? Till you hi
discovered a literature which you find by practd
experience to answer all these purposes better tl
the Psalms and the New Testament, let me pl<
that you do not give up the habit of reading or be
ing some small portion of the Bible — of those pa
of the Bible which we find to be of most din
spiritual value to us — at regular intervals ; every d
is the natural thing and the easiest The late P.
fessor Tyndall used, it is said, to read through t
Sermon on the Mount once a fortnight When it I
recovered from the shock of new ideas in history a
science, I do not think that the world will be anxic
to restrict so severely as that its Canon of He
Scripture. But the principle of the agnostic pi
fessor's habit was sound. He felt that the spiritt
life required systematic cultivation ; and he read wh
appealed to him most Let us go and do likewise.

MISSIONS.

18

44 For wli" mikrtli Uir«- t-» «!iff«<r from *r. thrr * *i i m'n m iw:

Own Out tli- »n til!*: h : n ri\r I V>» -.1 ■.:. ; :.-•■ r~. • <>i
it, *hv •{•«*t tl.ou L'!or\, x* if tl.i * I i lit r. ". :*» .«<■»* .: T '
1 I'nii. iv. 7.

i •

XX.

MISSIONS. 1

RECENT lamentable events in China have brought
into prominence the whole question of Foreign
Missions, and our duty towards them.

The subject is one which is directly suggested by
to-day's festival of the Epiphany, and I do not know
that if I were to go in search of a subject appropriate
to the first Sunday of the new century, I should be
likely to find a more appropriate one than the ques-
tion whether the Christianity of the twentieth
century is to be a missionary Christianity or not ; and
therefore I propose this morning to examine a few of
the objections which one constantly hears urged as
excuses, I will not say merely for neglect and in-
difference, but for the active contempt and almost
ferocious hostility which the very name of a mis-
sionary seems often to arouse in the minds of other-
wise benevolent and well-meaning people.

A priori one might perhaps have expected that
self-sacrificing efforts to promote the moral and
spiritual improvement of the backward races of man-
kind might have commanded at least a respectful

1 Preached in Westminster Abbey, Sunday, Jan. 6, 1901.

S76

276 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

sympathy on the part even of people who do i
share the strictly theological side of the missionar
creed Whatever a missionary is or does, he at lei
devotes his life to non-material objects. Of course
would be affectation to deny that the amount of se
sacrifice which the missionary calling demands, depeo
a good deal upon circumstances. But it is just wh<
the sacrifice is greatest, and where the risk and hai
ship involved are most serious, that sympathy i
missionary zeal often seems to be most conspicuoui
absent. It is the young man whose prospects at hoi
are brightest who is thought to be most obvioui
throwing himself away when he becomes a missiona
It is the occurrence of some disaster like the recc
deplorable massacre in China which produces t
fiercest outcries against the waste of money and 1
in such foolhardy enterprises. I must say I find
difficult to listen with patience to such talk in t
mouths of men who would regard the name of Lit
Englander as a term of reproach. What would be si
of a public speaker who deliberately dissuaded you
men from going into the army because it involves t
chance of being shot ? What would be said of
statesman who urged the abandonment of some i
portant outpost of the Empire because the climate w
unhealthy ? Are we to say that the promotion
British trade, the provision of new openings i
British capital and of new markets for British coi
merce, are objects for which it is worth while sac
firing (if need be) millions of money and hundreds

MISSIONS 277

lives; whereas the planting of infant Churches, the
Christianising of nations, the vast indirect moral
effects which spring from missionary work, are objects
upon which it is pure waste to spend a few odd guineas,
and almost criminal to permit the sacrifice of perhaps
half a dozen missionaries a year? Do such little-
minded pleas deserve any answer but the indignant
exclamation of the Apostle : " What hast thou that
thou didst not receive ? " Where should we be now
if the Apostles and their followers had stopped to
count the cost of their wild dream of Christian-
ising that great civilising empire of Borne, to whose
position in the world we have in some measure
succeeded ?

But, it will be said, modern missionaries are not so
successful as the Apostles or the missionaries of the
first three centuries. I am not quite sure that the
contrast in this respect between ancient and modern
missions is as great as is sometimes supposed I
confess I do not admire the spirit which makes nice
calculations as to the number of conversions effected
by a given number of missionaries in a given time,
and which then proceeds to calculate how much per
head it costs to convert black men or white men, and
to ask whether after all it is worth the expense. I
do not believe that the value of spiritual work can
be estimated by arithmetical tests. The best modern
missionaries regard the spread of humanity, the higher
morality, the vague Christian sentiment, the dim
groping after God, which everywhere follow upon

278 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

earnest missionary effort, as even more important tt
the number of actual converts. But if you will hi
it so, take down your Whitaker's Almanac, and j
will find that there are over 2,280,000 Christians
India alone — for the most part owing to the missi
work of less than a century. It may be doubt
whether there were a larger number of Christii
in the world after the first century of Christi
preaching.

Then we have the plea that native Christians t
made no better than they were before. It is a lit
difficult to believe that men who (like the Christians
China at the present time) show themselves willing
die in hundreds for their faith, are so very mu
below the moral level of their European critics. 1
it is true, no doubt, that a nominal, or even a vc
sincere change of religious profession does bring wi
it some moral dangers. Can we doubt, as we re
St. Paul's Epistles, that there were some baptiz
Corinthians who were little the better for their co
version ? Certainly, at the time of the Reformatic
there were plenty of people to whom Protestai
ism meant nothing but an emancipation fro
unwelcome restraints. And yet some of us st
believe that the Reformation was not altogeth
a mistake. And, of course, no wise defender
missions will doubt that missionaries, like statesme
have made many mistakes. The attempt to interfe
with politics or with the course of native justice
one of them. That is a mistake which, I trust, hi

MISSIONS 279

rarely been made by the missionaries of our own or
any Protestant community. But, after all, this dis-
paragement does not usually come from those who
have known best the lives of the peoples affected, or
from those who have investigated the whole matter
from a broad and statesmanlike point of view.
Permit me on this occasion to call but one witness.
Mr. Bryce has testified to the fact that the un-
popularity of the missionaries in South Africa is
due almost entirely to their efforts to secure decent
treatment for the natives; and that the missionaries
are simply the only civilising and humanising agency
at work among the people whose native customs and
traditional religions we are destroying. 1 Whether we
like it or not, the lower native religions, with all the
traditional and customary morality that is associated
with them, are visibly crumbling away before the
influence of European ideaa The process is taking
place at an alarming rate in South Africa. It has
begun even with the much higher and stronger
civilisation of India. The old religions are going.
Let those who think they can supply something to
take their place better than Christianity, by all
means try its effect. But, as things actually stand,
the alternative in most cases is between Christianity
and nothing at all. And that may serve for an
answer to those who object to missions from a
philosophical and large-minded respect for other
religions than their own. It is not, of course,

1 Impressions of South Africa, chap. xxii.

280 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

necessary to say that any one, at least of the higl
religions of mankind, contains no religious truth
has no ethical value. Very few modern misaionar
adopt that attitude towards the religions with whi
they come in contact. But whatever interpretati
he may give to Christianity, it is difficult to see hi
a man can call himself a Christian at all unless
believes about Christianity at least these two thin
— (a) that it represents the highest and complete
body of religious truth in existence, embracing
itself, or capable ultimately of absorbing into itsc
all the elements of truth contained in other religion
and (b) that it is a universal religion — intended a
adapted not for this or that nation, but for all t
world. I need hardly say that this belief in t
universality and permanence of the Christian religi
does not imply that there has been, or that there w
be in the future, no growth or development in th
religion. The belief in the continuous working
the Spirit of God in human society is an essenti
article of the Christian faith. The critics and tl
philosophers who have dealt most destructively wil
traditional Christianity have almost invariably le
this much — the universalism, as they call it, »
Christianity. Because there is some truth in all tl
higher religions of mankind, that is no reason wfc
we should not teach their adherents more truth,
we confine ourselves simply to the moral test, if *
merely believe in Christian morality (which after a
is different, in some ways, from the morality taught h

MISSIONS 281

any other religion), it would surely be a duty to teach
that morality to others.

But then it may be objected, " Oh yes ! Our
religion and our morality are good enough — good
enough for superior people like ourselves, but much
too good for black men." Sometimes, no doubt, there
is nothing more in this feeling than an insolent and
wholly unchristian objection to the admission of
inferior races to our own religious privileges, to
teaching them a religion which seems to recognise
their claim to be treated as it is admitted that
fellow-Christians ought to be treated. At other
times the objection appeals to a vague intellectual
prejudice against interfering with the natural course
of development. That blessed word Evolution is
dragged in to justify leaving things to take their own
course without interference on our part. That modern
goddess Evolution, like more ancient deities, is often
invoked to save trouble to the lazy. It is worth while,
perhaps, to point out that Evolution — when that word
is applied to the development of rational beings and
of a society composed of rational beings — is made up
of " interferences." All rational action, in one sense,
is an interference with the course of nature. The
alternative is not between interfering or not inter-
fering, but between interfering in one way and
interfering in another. But for our present purpose
it is more directly to the point to insist that the idea
of a natural and necessary tendency to progress in
human society is quite unsupported by historical facts.

2*2 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

There is not the slightest reason to believe that
natives of Africa or India, if left alone, would <
evolve Christianity for themselves, or anything wl
our least sympathetic critics could possibly regard
a satisfactory substitute for Christianity. It is c
a few of the races of mankind which are progresi
beyond a certain point. The progress of the huz
race at large has taken place partly by the m
developed races substituting themselves for the un|
gressive, partly by the higher races communicat
their civilisation, their morality, their religion, to
lower. And that is exactly what we are doing u
by means of missions; but that is exactly what
do not do when we come into contact with nati
merely in the way of conquest or of trade. Oi
again we may fall back upon St. Paul's " What h
thou that thou didst not receive ? " There is
argument which can be used against preaching 1
gospel of Christ to the natives of India or of Air
which could not have been used against Pc
Gregory's quixotic scheme for . converting our bi
baroufl forefathers to the religion of civilised Bod
This civilisation, which we think qualifies us 1
Christianity and entitles us to keep it to ourselv
is the result of the very policy which our stay-a
home Christianity condemns. There is not t)
slightest reason to believe that we should ha'
evolved a civilised Christianity for ourselves ht
Gregory thought the religion of Wodin good enoug
for Saxon barbarians, or had St. Augustine confine

MISSIONS 283

his energies (as we are often told our clergy ought
to do) to preaching the gospel to the practical heathen
nearer home. Doubtless there were as many of them
in the streets of sixth century Borne as in the slums of
Westminster to-day !

There is one other theoretical objection to a
missionary Christianity which seldom expresses itself
in so many words, but which, I feel sure, is really at
the bottom of the tendency to depreciate mission
work on the part of liberal-minded Christians. There
may have been a time when the duty of mission work
was advocated on the ground that the heathen who
died without having heard or accepted the gospel
message were doomed to everlasting flames. Un-
doubtedly the progress of Christianity has been, and
is still, grievously hindered (especially among the
more educated races and classes) by the intellectual
narrowness of many missionaries and more missionary
societies (that is one of the things that must be
mended in the twentieth century) ; but I doubt very
much whether there is a single missionary living who
really believes or teaches such a doctrine as that at
the present day. And yet it is sometimes supposed
that when once we have shaken off this grotesque and
blasphemous theory, the rationale of missionary enter-
prise has disappeared. I have even heard a quite
well-educated and in all other relations of life
intelligent man solemnly argue that it was best to
leave the heathen alone. If they were allowed to die
without so much as hearing the gospel message,

aS4 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

there might Ik? a hope for them, he seemed to U^nk
(his theology had advanced no far); bat if w*
preached to them and they rejected the nioange. \hm
there could be no escape fn>m the inevitable d.«.«L
I really do not know which of these two nrwt
represent* the more lamentable travesty i4 wha*
Christianity really is. lloth of them spring fn*n th»
fundamental mistake of thinking of Christianity m
though it were good only as a passport to sncne fetci*
state, a sort of insurance against posthumous mk»—
and not at all because it is a good and happy thin^ w>
be a Christian now, as though it were d»4 w*jcUi
while to escape from sin, to live a pure and trasrlfiafc
life, to know something of the meaning of c^tuii-unx*
with (ioil for its own sake. «juiU* a|*rt fn»tu the c;.«rr?
which unre{iented sin must neeiis bring with it brr*
and hereafter. Itecause we believe that liod :* li*
common Father of all, — hen then as well as OirKia&t
whether thev know it or whether Uiev know it t*4. —
that surelv in a mb«erablv l*td reason for i*»l ieU:«tt
them know the good news that they have a Father ta
heaven !

We must Udieve that life is somehow U* all
human souls ati education — even for th«w* who «Ijt m
the most degraded he* then ism. lK»ubflc*a tbrn* m
n«»t the slightest ground for t*.*lic\ing that the e*j->.*m.
tion which Uxmu"» <»n enrth will, either f»r hntth<re <
for Christian, end *:th the U.*t hnmth of earthh Ufe.
Hut are we t«» make no e! r ««rt t*» impn»\e the tt»*r*l
■late of a man here Uvaus* tin* d«ior of ho|* may

MISSIONS 285

be closed by death ? Are we deliberately to refuse to
others the knowledge of God as He has been revealed
to us by Christ, with all the saving influence which
springs from that knowledge, because those who have
not known God in this life may haply come to know
Him hereafter ? Might we not as reasonably refuse
our help to the victim of some foul disease, because a
year or even ten years hence it may not be too late
to undertake his cure ? Might not the same fatalistic
reliance on the goodness of God be used as an
argument against any other attempt to improve the
condition of fellow-creatures whose well-being, spiritual,
moral, physical, has visibly and obviously been made
dependent upon our efforts by a God who calls upon
us to be fellow-workers with Him ?

This question of mission work may be a not un-
profitable subject for our consideration, not only
because it reminds us of the duty of taking our part
in its promotion by systematic giving of money, not
only because it may help to deter us from that con-
temptuous depreciation of missions which does so much
to hinder men from becoming missionaries, not merely
because to make up our minds about it is essential to
a right judgment on many great questions of imperial
policy, but also because it may serve to make us think
what Christianity really is in itself, and what it ought
to be to each one of us. Can our personal attitude
to Christianity be what it ought to be, if it is even
an open question with us whether it is a duty to
proclaim its truth to others also ? Can we hate sin

a86 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

and selfishness as we ought to do, if we are inclined
excuse ourselves from fighting against sin in others
sophistical calculations as to the extent to which t
guilt of sin may be mitigated by the sinner's ign<
ance? Can we care about our fellow-men as '
admit Christianity tells us we ought to care abo
them, when we are content to leave their spiritt
present and their spiritual future to what used to
called the uncovenanted mercies of God ? We do n
do that with our own children and friends, whetb
in temporal matters or in spiritual. Can we ha
known much of the value of the Christian life for i
own sake, when we enter upon cold-blooded calcul
tions as to whether Christianity is sufficiently bett
than Hinduism or Mohammedanism to be worth tl
cost of preaching it ? Can we feel due gratitude 1
God for all that we have received as individuals ar
as a community, if we are in doubt whether it is <
is not part of the "white man's burden/' duric
the coming century, to extend those privileges «
ours as widely as possible and as rapidly as possib]
to all the nations of the earth ? Can we have an
adequate idea of what is meant by that fundaments
conception of all our Master's teaching — the kingdor
of God — if we doubt whether or not it was intendet
that all the kingdoms of the world should one da;
become (so far as in us lies to make them) the kingdom
of our God and of His Christ ?

XXI.

THE RELIGIOUS CHARACTER OF

THE STATE.

tor

" He it a tumUtrr of (•«■! to tW f -r ^**1 - K*>« n.. t K V

XXL

THE RELIGIOUS CHARACTER OF THE

STATE.

fTlHE approaching Coronation brings before us in a
-*- vivid and significant manner the religions aspect
of the State. It will, I trust, give a suitable direction
to our thoughts this morning, if we glance briefly at
the theories that have at various times been held as to
the source of the duty which we owe to the State.

1. Little need be said about the theory — once the
most cherished tenet of the Anglican Church — of
the divine right of kings. The divine right to
govern well or ill was originally vested (it was
thought) in Adam, and thence descended, like a
piece of real property, to Charles h The theory of
divine right is not really a very ancient one. It
is not the theory of the Fathers, though there is a
good deal in the Fathers to suggest it. 1 In the Middle

1 The political ideas of the Fathers are admirably dealt with by the
Rev. A. J. Carlyle in his History of Mediaeval Political Theory in the
Weet y vol i, 1908. The Fathers often enjoined obedience even to bad
rulers on the ground of divine appointment, but in them (1) the theory
was not exclusive of other views, and (2) the authority was not con-
ceived to be dependent upon heredity or any particular mode of
appointment. It was the de facto ruler who possessed divine authority.

19

290 CHRISTUS IN ECCLBSIA

Ages it was only maintained by the Ghibeline
fenders of the Holy Roman Empire, which was
course, no hereditary monarchy ; and in such a deft
of it as the famous De Monarchia of Dante,
argument so largely turns on rational and utilita
considerations, that it almost passes on into the b
intelligible view that all government is divina ]
not till much later — till the Stuart period, perhap
that we encounter the extravagant view that a di
right to govern, well or ill, was originally vestec
Adam, and so descended in the divine eldest male
to Charles i. Of this theory, as it appears in e
writers as Sir Thomas Filmer, no more need i
be said. The truth which lies at the bottom o
is, by general admission, simply the truth — a \
important one, no doubt — that it is a moral,
therefore a religious, duty to obey the establis
secular authority. It does not help us to find
legitimate ruler, or determine the limits of
obedience to him.

2. Then, secondly, we have the theory that
duty of obeying the State arises from a convention
agreement by which primitive men, experiencing
manifold inconveniences involved in a war of ev
man with every man, covenanted with one another
obey a common superior. This is, in a sense, proba
the answer which most naturally comes to a man, e^
now, the first time he sets himself down to think uj
the subject. It is probably as old as the very fi
efforts at abstract political thinking. To say nothi

RELIGIOUS CHARACTER OF THE STATE 291

of Greek Sophists and Roman Stoics, we find it in the
Fathers. St. Augustine, for instance, tells us that
there is a " general agreement of human society to
obey their respective kings." * This dictum of Augus-
tine, embodied in the great medieval text-book of
Canon Law, the Decretum of Gratian, became the
authoritative theory of the Canonists, whence it
descended to Hooker and Hobbes, to Locke and
Rousseau. We may, of course, recognise in it a certain
residuum of truth. No government could last for a
day unless there were a tolerably general agreement
to accept and obey it. But that consent may be a
mere submission to superior force (like that of the
traveller to the highwayman who demands his purse,
pistol in hand), or the submission of complete apathy
or of total ignorance. In any other sense this con-
tract or convention is a pure fiction. When and
where did the people of India, or even the people of
England, agree to obey the King ? Even on the very
doubtful assumption that the privilege of having been
outvoted in the election of a member of Parliament,
who is again outvoted in that assembly, implies con-
sent, when did the women of England agree to obey
the Government? And then, if we suppose the
promise to have been made, it will not prove that
obedience is due, or even lawful. Why should the
duty of keeping a promise be treated as the most
obvious and primary of all duties? If government
be a good thing, it is a duty to obey it whether you

1 Ang. Confess, iii. 0. 8 ; Jkcret. OnU. t Pt. I. Disk viii. c. 2.

29* CHRISTUS IN ECCLBSIA

have promised to do so or not If it is a had Unas,
your promise to obey it will not justify eren yomr <*vm
submission, still lens your use of force to compel oihct
jwople s submission. It may, do doubt, be very oVairshat
that the established form of government shr«ild h*r#
the general consent of the (teople in it* favour. Wh««
once a people lias reached a certain level of bucmJ
and political maturity, it is not a good or healthy
thing that it should be ruled from above, trom
without, by a despotic monarch or a foreign invader
We may welcome that picturesque feature of lb*
coming ceremony when the |>enple of EngUinl. re-
presented in point of fart by the boys of Westminster
School, will acclaitu tin.* King as the ruler of their •*«*
free choice. We may welcome it as a raiuodcr <d
the fact tliat the Ktigliah monarchy is older than itm
almuixl theory of atvolute hereditary right We ta^t
welcome it as an emphatic amertioii of the prmrspat
that the moral right of tin* monarchy, as of every
elemeut in the constitution, depends upon its
tin* end for which all governments exist Bat as
a theory which is to explain the duty of loyalty t* U>
determine its limits, the theory of a social coetrmrt*
whether looked at in the light of history or in the
light of reason, i* only one degree leas absonl lhaa
the theory of divine right The tast illustrate* %d
the arbitrary character of the whole theury is tummi
in the history of its variations. The contract bcaajf
a wholly imaginary affair, everybody has been txm is
draft its provisions according to his own ideas of what

RELIGIOUS CHARACTER OF THE STATE 293

government ought to ba In Hobbes the social con-
tract theory is made the basis of unlimited absolutism
in public life and private, in religious matters as well
as secular. The " Sovereign " must not give away the
government of doctrine, or the people will be " frighted
into rebellion with the fear of spirits." In Locke
the theory assumes a Whiggish hue. It transforms
itself into a theory of constitutional government, of
a government which is strictly bound to respect
personal liberty, the rights of conscience, and above
all the sacred rights of property. In Rousseau's
hands the doctrine becomes the basis of extreme
democracy — a democracy which discards altogether
the representative principle — and doubtless he is only
logical in insisting that, if a man can only be governed
by his own consent, you must prove, not merely the
consent of the majority, but of each individual citizen.
For coercion by a majority demands just as much
warranty as coercion by a minority.

I will not waste time in examining these theories
further. The contract theory served a noble purpose
once as a clumsy and confused expression of the idea
that governments exist for the good of the governed, and
that the governed have a right to see that they fulfil
their purpose. But the theory has done its work.
And yet much of the confusion which it produced
still lingers among us. It would not be difficult to
illustrate from recent political experience the injurious
effects of the idea that a law can possess no moral
claim to obedience unless it can be shown that every

294 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

person whose obedience is claimed has in some <
structive way consented to its imposition, or thi
rate need not be paid by anyone who has no pera
sympathy with the purpose to which it is devc
The theory is associated with an arbitrary limita
of the functions of government, which has 1
most universally abandoned. And yet, the
the formal terminology of the social contract i
not very often be heard, the spirit of it, the it
lectual confusion which it implies, has, I fear, by
means disappeared. It shows itself from time
time in furious protests, even in threats of veiled re
lion, whenever the State proposes to disregard »
fanciful theory of natural liberty. Now it is ;
perty, now it is the prevention of disease, now i
religion, now it is education, now it is some partici
branch of education, that is supposed by some
herent law to lie beyond the province of the St
It is curious, it is melancholy, to hear the very pe<
who are, to their infinite credit, always ready to a»
the right and the duty of the State to enf<
morality — Christian morality, I had almost s
denominational morality — not only upon its subje
but upon other nations, and who, on other occasic
would be foremost to proclaim the intimate connect
between religion and morality, crying out that
State has nothing to do with religious education
that an education with no religion in it at all
better than an education associated with some fo
of Christianity with which they do not happen

RELIGIOUS CHARACTER OF THE STATE 295

sympathise. It is impossible to read such utterances
without being reminded of the noble passage of
Burke, which marks the transition to a higher view
of the State :

"Society is indeed a contract. Subordinate con-
tracts for objects of mere occasional interest may be
dissolved at pleasure, but the State ought not to be
considered nothing more than a partnership agreement
in a trade of pepper and coffee, calico or tobacco, or
some other such low concern, to be taken up for
a little temporary interest, and to be dissolved by the
fancy of the parties. It is to be looked on with other
reverence, [because it is not a partnership in things
subservient only to the gross animal existence of
a temporary and perishable nature. It is a partner-
ship in all science; a partnership in all arts; a
partnership in every virtue and in all perfection. As
the ends of such a partnership cannot be obtained
in many generations, it becomes a partnership not
only between those who are living, but between
those who are dead and those who are to be born.
Each contract of each particular State is but a
clause in the great primeval contract of eternal
society, linking the lower with the higher natures,
connecting the visible and invisible world, according
to a fixed compact sanctioned by the inviolable oath
which holds all physical and all moral natures each
in their appointed place." 1

3. A contract which was never made and which

1 Reflections mi tjie French Revolution.

2g6 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

can never be dissolved has become a metaphor whirl)
modern writers have done well to discard Al tbt
present day there is an all but universal c o o mtm m
among serious thinkers to find the source of p olitical
obligation in the end which the State serve* If aaa
wore originally and by nature a mere self-seeking uuntl.
not recognising and incapable of recognising a nun!
obligation, no sort of legal instrument could maw
such an obligation. For whence would come the duly
of resjiecting it ? Hut if man is essentially a «uml
and a moral being, if the State be a nt ci m mr y OMan*
to enable him to attain his end. then to obry U*
State liecnmes us obvious and immediate a duty, a*
religious a duty, as to jierform any other mt% tfast
is essential to the well-l»eing of one's leil"ttLC
It w not my consent that constitute* my duty U>
obey. If the State's authority is conducive to the
real good of my fellows, I am not free U> refuse my
consent If it is not, no amount of consent ccm*i
invcat its IwheaUi with any moral authority. St Ui
there in a pretty general agreement* But there »•
still a ^rcat line of cloavagc ltetween those who r»W
thin view of the matter. It is agreed that the Stale
cxUt* to promote the good of man. Hut what »

that W*n\ * What in I lie tni<* end of titan *

If we think *ith the pure I'tihtartati th%l llwr ;/*-*
pwid «»f man 1* hjiii ply to tfet a* inurh «•:** \ n>mt *•
pu*Mit»l»*, im»*)«-t titc of *hat *irt of ru? \u*ut it ••,
then the object of tin* State iuu*t be Mtu|4y to tncrtt*«r
tlie miiu of human plouaurv. No Stale interf

RELIGIOUS CHARACTER OF THE STATE 297

will be justifiable which aims at any other end ;
indeed, it becomes very difficult to show why the
individual should trouble his head about anybody's
pleasure but his own. But if the end of man is some-
thing higher than mere enjoyment ; if the true end of
man includes the development of mind and of char-
acter ; if his object be not merely happiness, but the
best and noblest kind of happiness ; if the true end of
man be (in the words of the old Scotch Catechism), to
know God, and to enjoy Him for ever, — then we get a
widely increased field for the operations of the State.
The State becomes no mere mutual assurance society
for the preservation of person and property, but (as
the old Greek thinker put it) a society for the pro-
motion of virtue. No wonder that Christian philo-
sophers like St Thomas Aquinas have recognised how
much nobler, how much more Christian a view of the
State this gives us than the traditional contract theory
of the medieval canonist. And it is a view to which
slowly but surely the modern world is coming back.
It may be reluctant to admit it The capitalist may
tremble at a theory which seems to put his accumulated
wealth at the disposal of a democratic community.
The narrower Nonconformist and the narrower Church-
man may vie with one another in proclaiming the
essential secularity of a State whose authority they
are nevertheless always ready to employ for their own
purposea The individualist may catch at a one-
sided view of evolution to justify a theory of the
State, which, as the late Professor Huxley showed so

298 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

eloquently, 1 would, if really acted upon, reduce hum
society to a cock-pit in which the freest scope won
be given to the instincts of the wolf and the hyei
while it inhibited at every turn the distinctive
human qualities — the sympathy, the contrivani
the rationality, the morality, which have really ma
human society what it is. But in spite of all i
unwillingness to accept the theory of Aristotle and
St. Thomas, the actual practice of the State is dai
proclaiming that the individualism of the eighteen!
century is a thing of the past. The State is dai
undertaking not merely more duties, but essential
moral duties. It drives noblemen and gentlemen ;
shoals to Monte Carlo, because no decent governmei
will allow public gaming-tables at home. It is dai]
more and more energetically instructing parents i
their duty towards their own offspring, and constitute
itself the universal parent to children of no parent
or of worse than none. The regulation of factories, th
control of the liquor traffic, the housing of the poo:
education in all its branches — these are admitted b
both political parties (however much they may diffe
about details) to be legitimate departments of Stat
activity. And that admission is one which it is i
hopeless task to reconcile with the old theory that tht
State is merely a policeman whose sole function is t<
prevent people putting their hands into other peopled
pockets. Public men may still make speeches whicl
assume that education is nothing but an instrument ol

1 See his Romanes Lecture on Evolution and Ethics.

RELIGIOUS CHARACTER OF THE STATE 299

commercial competition with Germany. But these
survivals do not represent the real trend of the
national conscience. Whatever we may think of some
of the details of Mr. Rhodes' will, it is at least a
significant fact that, in the view of that great financier,
the training and discipline of character are more
important objects of education than either the mere
acquisition of knowledge or the mere acquisition of
technical skilL Touches of the boyish materialism,
which in his vigorous mind mingled so oddly with a
dominating idealism, we may certainly trace in that
remarkable document. For teachers and students
alike, he seems to have thought that high thinking
was best promoted by high living. And! it is doubtful
whether the marks to be assigned (under his scheme)
to character would, in some modern schools, mean
anything but additional marks for athletics. But still
the will is mainly notable for the idealist view which
it takes, not only of education, but also of the State.
That the true life of a nation — nay, if we must express
things commercially, its most valuable asset — is its
ideal of life, its type of character, and not its com-
mercial treaties, its paper constitutions, or its technical
efficiency (important as all these are), — that at least
Mr. Ehodes may be credited with having discerned
with unerring eye. And surely on reflection few
even of the fanatics of secular education will deny
that there can be no education worthy of the name
which does not aim at moral objects. Whether
character can best be trained with or without the

3oo CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

aid of religion, is a question about which surely the

should not be two opinions among Christian peop

How the great claims of Christianity can best be i

conciled with the little claims of competing Church

and sects is a mere question of detail, which shou

be discussed in a spirit of charity and conciliate

For such a discussion, this is not the time or plac

I content myself with enunciating the principle

Christian education is a primary interest, not mere

of the Church, but of the Christian State. By tl

admission that the education of mind and charact*

is the most important of legislative aims, we hai

really begun the return to that Christian Aristotelia

view of the State which should be a characterist

note of the coming century. In the religious pageanti

of the coming Coronation we may see an imprest

ive symbol of the ideal which I have tried to sugges

If we let it remind us that not merely a passfr

obedience, but an enthusiastic loyalty to the State, an

a zealous fulfilment of all civic and political obligf

tions, are religious duties, the approaching ceremon

may be to us something more than an obsolet

formality. To combine something of the old civi

patriotism of Greece with the wider, the deeper, th

more personal enthusiasm of humanity, which is th

characteristic note of the Christian ideal, should b

the aim of those who would see a meaning in th

solemn religious anointing of the head of the State, b;

the chief representative of the Christian priesthood, ii

the most venerable sanctuary of the English nation.

XXII.
CHURCH AND STATE.

Ml

*' Ami Z*lok the )>rte»t and Nathan I he pe\»f»Wt have ***.
him king in (Jihoti ; aiul they arr niinr up (run th«& * r» • m
in^, mi that the city nit}? again. This is the t»*'i«* that w V**«
heard. 1 KlNUft I 45.

XXII.
CHURCH AND STATE.

ON the Sunday before last I took the impending
Coronation as a text for some remarks upon the
spiritual aspect of the State. I tried to suggest that
instead of looking upon it as a mere society for
the protection of person and property, we should go
back to the old Greek idea of the State as a society
for the promotion of virtue — of the highest well-
being of which human nature is capable. Our view
of the sacred, the spiritual, the divine character of the
State ought to be all the stronger, not the weaker,
because the teaching of Christ has given us an ideal
of humanity higher, deeper, more spiritual than was
possible to men like Aristotle or even Plato.

But some may think, " If we take this view of the
State, if the State aims at spiritual objects, what room
is left for the Church ? Can it be at best anything
more than a department of the State ? Are we not
driven to that view of the relations between Church
and State which is commonly called Erastian ? "

I do not think so. It is quite true that the State
aims ultimately and ideally at producing the total
well-being of human society, including goodness ; but

80S

3 o4 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

it does not follow that the State is the most efficiei
of all possible societies for that purpose. There ai
two characteristics which differentiate the State fro)
all other societies. It is essentially compulsive, an
it must include all the inhabitants of a territoi
over which its sway extends. And yet for the pn
motion of religion and morality more limited societie
depending on voluntary consent, upon personal coi
viction, upon spontaneous enthusiasm, may be moi
efficient than the State, with its compulsion, i
penalties, its universality. That is just the ne
departure which was made by the Church of Christ i
its original form. In the old world, religion was alwaj
a matter of State. The earliest Churches (if ChurclM
they should be called) were nation-Churches. A man
religion was an accident of birth, not a voluntary choic
of his own. Judaism became, we may say, a true Churc
just at the moment when it ceased to be a nation
and this prepared the way for the Church of Chris
which from the very first was essentially voluntar
non-national, universal The Church was from the ver
first composed of the disciples of Christ There is n
such thing as a compulsory disciple. And histor
shows us surely that this voluntary society of disciple
has proved an infinitely more effectual society for th
promotion of virtue than all the religions of the ol
world, and the State discipline of which these religion
were an essential part And the Church can neve
lose this character — the character of a voluntar
society, a society of believers in a Person and follower

CHURCH AND STATE 305

of a Person — without forfeiting its most essential
character.

The true difference between Church and State is
not a difference of ends, but a difference of means.
It is the duty of the State to promote goodness just
as much as it is the duty of the Church, — to the very
limited extent to which goodness can be directly pro-
moted by force, by material conditions, or by such
spiritual forces as can be brought to bear upon un-
willing subjects, — though, after all, the ideal of the
State is not to rule over the unwilling, but to embody
and express the highest aims and aspirations, the
tiniest self, of its individual citizens ; but that is an
ideal which cannot always be realised. The Church
addresses itself essentially to willing subjects. Its
appeal is to conscience, to conviction, to enthusiasm.
Absolute fusion of Church and State is therefore
inconsistent with the true functions of each. But it
does not follow that no connection between Church
and State is possible or desirable. On the contrary,
if the State has really the high functions which we
have attributed to it, such a view must eventually,
one would 'think, materially modify the attitude of
thoughtful men towards the institution which is known
as an Established Church.

If the eighteenth century protection of person and

property view of the State be a right one, then an

established Church is at best the mere tolerable

anomaly that it still is to many who provisionally

defend it. If Church and State are both of them
20

3 o6 CHR1STUS IN ECCLESIA

societies for the promotion of virtue, thrir altiaor*
and their co-operation ought to be regarded as natural,
normal, conforniablo to the highest ideal of etch* I
do not for oue moment suggest that the particular
typo of relation between Church ami State which
obtains in this country in the only one which m cm*
sistent with a high ethical conception of the State.
The (tovemment of the United States is not p«tWw
l>ocause its circumstances and history have led it u>
treat all Christian denominations in the same war
and forbidden it to enter into any official reUtfe>«M
with them except as property -holding bodiea X<* t»
the French Government fvcrsanrilv indi (Term t t»» re-
ligious truth because it pay*, and W» mmr ctUot
controls, the minister* of Unman Cath"lict«m. *4 IV>
tOHtantism, and of Judaism.

When once we liave rvali*ol that the true cod <4
government is dimply to pn«iuc* the £rv*Uwl tf**i
spiritual and material, moral and hedonist**, thai m
attainable at a jiartit ular tune ami place, all thevr
<|ue*tion» as to the relations between State and Chunh
become merely quest ionn of detail and of c\ped>rf*-]i
It in enough to (Uitn for the English synlem that it »
suitable to the condition* and cirvuinstanv** of thr
Eugiudi nation at the prvwnt time.

1 should not care to »|*mk from the |«ulpit al all
on thin question of Chun h and State mend) (** xht
put )■!»«• of arguing a^ui^t •ltm^UbludiUK-nt I tut.
strongly as I hold that di«e*uhh«hmcnt at tli* prarai
moment would be a great national diameter, there air

CHURCH AND STATE 307

many features in the English Church which we cannot
imagine surviving indefinitely. One may safely say
that, without grave modifications, the present system
of patronage, the present irresponsibility of the indi-
vidual clergyman, the present unjust and capricious
distribution of ecclesiastical endowments, cannot be
conceived of as existing in the year 2000. Either
Parliament must reform the Church, or it must allow
the Church — by which I need hardly say I do not
mean the clergy alone — to reform itself.

At all events, in one form or another, great changes
are inevitable, though (it may be) the changes need
not be greater than have actually been carried out in
the century that is past by the action of Parliament. 1
And, therefore, it seems to me that it is of great
importance that the true theory of Church and State
should be well understood by Churchmen. I have
tried to suggest that it is not beyond the province of
the State to concern itself with the teaching of re-
ligion and the provision of religious worship, even
with the provision of such things out of the taxes,
though I need hardly stay to point out that in this
country nothing of the kind is done. 2 Still less is

1 Churchmen constantly forget how much the Church owes to the
Cathedrals Act, the institution of the Ecclesiastical Commission, and
the various Acts for enforcing the residence of the clergy. Some of this
legislation was bitterly opposed by the clerical opinion of the time.

2 I need hardly say that I should advocate the most complete
toleration, not because the State has nothing to do with religion, but
just because it has to do with religion ; and toleration is conducive to
the religious as well as to the moral, intellectual, and material good
of the nation.

3 o8 CHRISTUS IN BCCLBSIA

there any objection to that control by the Sutr <4 it*
property belonging to ecclesiastical corporation*, whrh
is what Church Establishment in this country jrac-
tically amounts to.

There is no objortiou to this sort of interference
with spiritual matters on the part of the Stale U
it inconsistent with a true conce|>tton of the Church '
At first sight, let me frankly admit that tun*
features of our present system would appoar to t«
so. The Church, we have seen, is a voluntary m*-«t¥
A society may enter into close relations with aa««tf<cr
society, but it cannot, it would naturally wcm. pan
with the right to regulate it* own aflair* ami t*» ap-
point its own oilier rs. Now, if we sup|«wed lliurrh
and State to l*» com (Mined of an entirely different •«;
of jiersons, actuated by a totally different set of |-r.n-
riples, the liare idea of interference with i!k % intrrt-4.
discipline of the Church by the State wouh! indmi
lie fatal to the very object of her existence In ;i*
early days of the Christ uui Church, placed in tf*
middle of a |«igan society, the claim of Kt«k*&
Km|ierois and Unman governor* t« regulate tu mux-
nal atfaus would obviously have been fatal U> ita >co
existence. For the Chuirh was undouhUmtlv ;r. *
sense, «ut the Human auOionlio* correctly disrrni<ti A
to lie. a great conspiniry a-^inst the j*nncipi*» u|»o
which piiraii sn'iely * i« ("titided. lUit tin* va*t :%
quit*' othenusv when th«* bulk of tlte o4utmimlT i«
nominally Christian. hIhii the two .i«*«* ulh>tv« oc*
suit practically of tlic soim; i«em»n» under different

CHURCH AND STATE 309

organisations. This state of things was approximately
realised in the Middle Ages. When John Wycliffe
maintained the right of the State to take away the
property of idle monks and compel secular ecclesi-
astics to perform their duty more efficiently, he was
guilty of no Erastianism in the sense in which the
word is usually employed. The Church, he contended,
consisted essentially of the laity. There was a
moment, as he quaintly put it, the moment after the
Eesurrection, when the Church of Christ consisted of
a single lay woman. 1 And if the unfaithfulness of
the clergy reached a certain pitch, the laity might
once again constitute the true Church of Christ.
He was therefore only calling upon one member of the
ecclesiastical body politic to reform another. The
question whether the desired reform should be carried
out by the Nation-Church assembled in Parliament,
or by the Nation-Church as supposed to be repre-
sented in Convocation, was only a question of machinery.
Substantially, he was only calling upon the Church to
reform itself. And the same plea might no doubt be
urged in favour of that assumption of ecclesiastical
authority by the Sovereign which took place at the
time of the Beformation, though no doubt many
things were done in connection therewith which no
modern thinker could well defend.

But all this, it may be thought, is ancient history.
Whatever may have been the case once, the nation is
now not all of one mind in religious questions.

1 De Civili Dominio, I. cap. zliii. (ed. Poole, p. 392).

3io CHRISTUS IN BCCLBSIA

Among elector* and among membeni of l\uiiaiDnkt
not all are even in the most nominal sense Christian*
at all. And the Christian* are split into a dam*
conflicting sect*. How, under these rtrrmnstaare*.
cau we justify, from the ]ioint of view of the Ctmtrh,
that measure of interference with the affaire of aa
avowedly voluntary society which the existing M<ia
necessarily involves ? I would answer by in*i*tuȣ
once more on the principle that the justification <4
any law or institution whatever depends upon the
end which it serves. The true question for the
Church is not, " Does our submission to this u*mmu r
of State interference constitute an infringrtnent *<
an tilistroct ft jtrion ideal of Autonomy or «*H
government ; dot* it conv*|«»nd with the U*dtt*<oal
principles and practice* which hate Iwn haoJtd
down to us from primitive times f " , but rathrr .
M Does it or does it not conduce to the end Urn
which the Church exists?" "Will the Chuirh <k>
its work more or less efficiently, by submitting to
these restrictions ? "

And if tliat test lie applied, the answer cani*<
to my mind, l*» very doubtfuL t>f nww there t*
some loss. Undoubtedly we are now pretectal
from making those alterations in our formulara*
which the (hanging ideas of the time seem to call fur
lint there is no reason whv Parliament should doc

*

grant to a really rej»rv«etitativc clerical and lay ad-
vocation the power to ruake such detail**! cha^va.
without any fundamental alteration in the tflsU—

CHURCH AND STATE 311

between Church and State. 1 It is probable that the
appointment of bishops by the Prime Minister really
means designation by the public opinion of the lay
community far more thoroughly than their designation
by diocesan synods would do. The existence of a lay
court of final appeal secures a progressive toleration of
differences in practice and opinion which could hardly
have been secured in any other way. The Church
of England would inevitably, it is not too much to say,
bave committed suicide as a comprehensive national
Church but for the interposition of that fatherly
tribunal It certainly did its best to do so not very
long ago. Every party in the Church has had its
distinctive opinions condemned by the strictly ecclesi-
astical Court, i.e. either by bishops in person or their
lay ecclesiastical judges. In every case (putting aside
the almost solitary case of a clergyman who has
deliberately discarded the name of Christian *), the
condemnation has been reversed by the Judicial Com-
mittee. Those who care about the comprehensiveness,
the progressiveness, the effectiveness of the Church,
will not be in a hurry to modify a state of things
which has had these beneficent results; and if this
were the place to do it, I could, I think, show by a

1 i.e. subject to the negative control of Parliament The Canons of
a reformed Convocation should receive the assent of the Crown, unless
either House petitioned against them.

1 The case of Mr. Voysey. There is also the case of Mr. Heath,
who was deprived in 1861 for opinions difficult to distinguish from
those allowed in the case of the writers in Essays and Reviews, though
they were more crudely expressed.

312 CHRISTUS IN ECCLBSIA

survey of the ecclesiastical legislation «»f the
century, how much Parliament has dooe to
the internal efficiency of the Church during this
period ; and in ho doing it baa roally been interpreta*:
the better mind of the Church herself. If at aay
time tlie State should be governed in its aiUUale
towards the Church by hostile, malevolent, and aati-
Christian intentions, then, of course, a state of tiuat*
would have arisen in which it would be oscn— inr
for Churchmen to repudiate State control, and. at any
cost of property, of confiscated cathedrals* ur el lust
prestige, to insist ou constituting themselves ml*
a purely voluntary society. If the Stale were W>
insist on appointing as bishop men who failed t»>
command public respect, to impose upon the clergy
doctrines or practices opposed to their u*wt cherished
convictions, or to forbid the nervioes and thr
which the mass of Churchmen approve, then, of
the existing state of tilings would havr to lie revueti
At present, I venture to leave *ith you thi* *Q|Qse»-
lion, that the present relation* lietween Chttrvh ani
State are (though not the only posAthle eiprriajo %4
it) an impressive, emphatic, and practically trnnmUf
expression of the idea ttiat Church and State aLk»
cxiat to promote a national ***H • bemg which at
essentially moral and njuritiul

Tlte Hpiritual chararter of tin* State, the uat^aal
or civic character of the Church — that ** what ll*
«*\UU*iuv of the catahludHxl Churvh MUiUJwn* ax»!
promote* TliAl the rmhtv *t»»uM come nearer thr

CHURCH AND STATE 313

ideal, should be the prayer and the effort of every
good Churchman and of every good citizen.

There is no time now to discuss details of ecclesi-
astical reform, and I will merely suggest that two
things are imperatively needed if the present relations
between Church and State are to continue for another
century.

(1) The Church must be in one way or another
allowed to reform its abuses and its inefficiencies,
and to husband and redistribute its resources. Not
until this is done will the laity be roused into setting
about that re-endowment of the Church which is an
absolutely essential condition of its continued efficiency.

And (2) the Church of England must adopt a differ-
ent attitude towards the Protestant Nonconformist
bodies. What is wanted, it seems to me, is not so
much legal changes or corporate action on the part of
the Church collectively, though the time may come for
such action in the future, as the frank abandonment
of all those narrow theories which prevent our recog-
nising the Nonconformist Churches as branches of the
true Church of Christ, and their ministers as true
Christian presbyters. We shall still, if we are wise,
regard external unity as the necessary ideal of the
Church of Christ. We shall still seek to maintain
the continuity of our Church with the historic
Churches of the past, and jealously retain the
episcopacy and the other institutions which tend to
keep up that sense of continuity. We shall still
claim to be, in a distinctive sense, the national

314 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

Church ; but we shall hold that that positi*
strengthened, not weakened, by every practi
kind of intercourse, association, co-operation, i
communion with the Nonconformist Churches.

On the Coronation Day the Church of Enj
will stand forth conspicuously before all men a
representative of our national Christianity. Th
her true position. She claims to be not the
branch, but the most ancient, the most compreher
the typical and representative branch of that Ch
of Christ which consists essentially of all Ch
followers in this land. Would not her positioi
all the stronger if a future coronation should see
representatives of the leading Nonconformist be
assisting officially in the ceremony, and joining
communion with the Sovereign and the bishops ?
such a ceremony were possible, if such an hono
and historic primacy among sister Churches sh<
come to represent the habitual relation between
Church of England and the Churches in England,
Church of England would have become at one .
the same time doubly national and doubly catholic.

XXIII.

THE CHURCH AND THE
CHURCHES.

816

'* Yt *r* my fnriul*, if >«• «lo wh«t»«Trr I a*
John xv. 14.

tntn&b ■ « -i.

XXIII.
THE CHURCH AND THE CHURCHES.

T\ID our Lord contemplate the existence of a
-*-^ Church ? Is the Church a part of the original
Christianity — the Christianity of Christ? In one
sense undoubtedly it is. It is quite clear that our
Lord did think of His disciples as forming during
His lifetime a society of persons co-operating together
for certain purposes. Not, observe, a mere aggregate
of isolated individuals, — individuals cherishing certain
ideas in their hearts, individuals who had attained
a certain degree of spiritual perfection, and were
destined to a certain spiritual future, — but a society
knowing and recognising one another as brethren, known
and recognised by all men as the disciples of their
one Master. Discipleship of Christ undoubtedly im-
plied a certain belief. You cannot become the disciple
of anyone unless you believe at least some part of
what he has taught, and believe that he has something
more to teach that you have not yet learned. But
even in the later part of our Lord's ministry we can
hardly say that an explicit declaration of belief in His
Messiahship was essential to bare membership of the
Christian society. Belief in Christ was undoubtedly

817

3 i8 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

required, but it was a very vague aoti uftirtani
belief. A very uncertain and procahuti* ha*» f*
membership of a society, we may be inclined u>
exclaim, we who are familiar with later devetofoctiu
of the Church-idea. Yet that was Christ* *V*>
And though vague, it was a very practical ex-
ception. The lwst tost of belief in Christ, as Christ
Himself understood it and as Christ Himself dcma&fcti
it, was obedience — doing the things that Chnrt
commands. The kind of faith which emb in \tv-
ducing tluit, is the kind of faith that ts essential to
Christianity. That is the one test *4 Kcing a
Christian. Never may the Churvh at any later ac*
of her history adopt any other test of tuembrnhip
in Christ's Cliurch. Eternally and for c*cr tSr
Churcli of Christ consists of the whole U*iv I
jiersonM who recognise Christ as their Master, aai
who try to do the things which He cotnman<i» them

Now it follows from this conception «»f the iTmnrh.
that the tent of memliership in the Church is. aad
ought to be. in a sense, a vague and not easily «W-fmabsr
thing. Olwcrve wluit I moan. Tliere i* t>4h:st£
vague aUutt the conception of tlic perfect ChntUa*
The Christian ideal of life is a very clear and defcii:!*
one. The Chriittian character is marked out lot u» is
a very plain ami definite manner. Unael&shMak
unwnrldlmef*. justice, punty, honesty — thear are pU:a
and detiuite thing* enough. I do u<»t mean l«» asy lh*l
tliere an? no doubts or difficulties as to what a Chn»»
tian ought U> do in such and such |*rtieiilar

THE CHURCH AND THE CHURCHES 319

stances. But there is a quite definite ideal of what
the Christian character is. We may not all have a
perfect grasp of that ideal, but we have all of us a
quite sufficient grasp of it to make it a very clear and
definite rule of life. And the ideal of Christian belief
is just the belief that is most calculated to produce
the Christian character. The ideal of what a Chris-
tian should be is plain enough ; but when we come to
ask whether this or that man is a Christian at all,
whether he has fallen so far behind the Christian ideal
in belief and in conduct as to be no longer a Christian
at all, that is a question to which no absolutely
definite and precise answer can be given. It is clear
that among the first disciples of Christ — those who
followed Him about to listen to His teaching, and who
subsequently organised themselves in the definite com-
munities known as Christian Churches — there were
disciples of very different kinds. There were degrees
of intensity, degrees of enlightenment, degrees of
insight in belief, degrees of faithfulness in practice.
And so it must be now — all the more so in proportion
as society in general has become nominally Christian.

We must never allow ourselves to go back upon that
primary and elementary conception of Christianity.
We must never refuse the name of Christian to anyone
who is in his way a sincere disciple of Christ in belief,
and is trying to do the things that He commanded.
But unfortunately the people who most clearly
grasp this side of the matter, often ignore a side of
Christ's teaching which is no less important. They

320 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

have tended more or Ion to say that hecau** Chris-
tianity in its widest sense must tie thtta cmilmlir tad
comprehensive, therefore all outward tnamicataUesj
of corporate life, all forma of worahip. all eilffroat
ordinances, all kinds of organisation ami icrWaiaatm ■!
office, must be, if not absolutely superfluous and per-
nicious, at least matter* which may be wh-ily
abandoned to the fancy and caprice of each isolated
individual Now, to argue thus destroy* the wbsat
ideal of a society, or at least the whole efficacy of U*
society to do the work which it was sent into the
world to do. A society is no longer a society whxa
ho* no definite mooting*, rules, organisation*, cncj*wm*r
life and corj*>ratc activity. But there rant>< :«
cor)M>rate life and coqmrate activity unlo* if»i.v>laa*
arc willing to submit their individual md^mrat to
that of their follow*, and to agree to many re»tr>rt*e*
upon tbeir individual liberty. Is it n«4 obvmt thai if
the Christian society had not devised defiuit* f»TB* 4
worship, definite standard* of doctrim*. <lchmt* v±*r* *4
discipline ami conduct, definite way* of a|*ply:n,; aft*i
enforcing the general comruamls of its Master *=*i
Founder, Chriftianity would ha\c dwindled aw*»
into at t»est .1 M-hool of thought which Wt*iM K»tr
|wuvhh| away, as the school of Hillcl or the *ch*%v %4
Zeno fia* j*»sed away 1 It would tia\* added *<
thing t<» the u>*n< ml *!•« k of idm.*. and l.Vn hate b
*uj*'pMded. And t*iii|4wili«.illv tttti-t «*• .%*<» it tKftl
tliat wah not what Christianity wa* mt«f*i*d W» l«* —
ttuit u» what it cannot Uxouic without nsmiy U» Ue

THE CHURCH AND THE CHURCHES 321

Christianity at all. The idea of a society of brethren

acting and working together for the great moral and

spiritual and social ends which Jesus called the

Kingdom of Heaven, that is absolutely vital and

essential to Christianity !

Here, then, are two complementary truths which we

have somehow got to combine. On the one hand, no

disciple of Christ can be placed outside the Christian

Church : on the other, all membership of the Christian

Church must involve much besides the individual effort

to grasp and act out for oneself the ideas of Christ.

No doubt the ideal would be that there should be

universal agreement in the development of corporate

life ; that Christians should one and all agree to the

same forms and expressions of corporate activity, accept

and obey the same authorities ; not merely aim at the

same ends, but agree as to the best possible means of

attaining them. That is the ideal, and for a time

the actual state of things was not wholly remote

from that ideal For, though the scattered individual

Christian communities early exhibited wide varieties

of ritual usage, of doctrinal tendency, and even of

practical ideal, it was long before one group of

Christians actually pronounced another not to be

Christian on account of such differences. And the

earliest heresies, it may be fairly admitted, were mostly

of that wild, half -pagan, half -Jewish type, which

reasonably suggested a doubt whether anything was

left among them of the Christianity of Christ. The

struggle against Gnosticism really was, broadly speak-
21

3>i CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

ing, a struggle of Christianity against M>turllua^ tfca
was not Christianity. It ia quite in*© that at am
Gnosticism waa not aa aharply marked <»ff (rem the
Church and ita authority aa was aiterwani* the ca**.
Thoro was a Gnosticism iu the Church aa well aa a
Gnosticism outside it What I have amid refer* to the
fully-developed Gnostic secta, Within the Chare*
there waa for a time much toleration of minor diSre-
encea. But human nature being what it ia. it m not
to be expected that this agreement could be univmnl
and permanent That differenoca of usage srajaM
prevail in geographically separate Christian oonunen»*
ties may )>e admitteil U> be inevitable, hut this is aut
necesaarily inconsistent with mutual renvniUun It
is more difficult to secure this recognition where the
Christians in the same place cannot agree to wvcahtp
in the same forms, to adopt the same rrrlnssastnal
polity and policy in all the innumerable practical -Mails
which nevertheless must be settled one way or anothf;
if there is to be such a thing as corporate life At aQ
events, we have to face the fact tliat at the present day
Christian people are split up into a number of distinct
societies ; and the question which 1 want to diarni lass
morning ia tlie nature of our duty, aa a Church and aa
individual*, towanl* Uie conflicting sects of our own
country. — a question aome treatment uf which firas
tlie necessary complement to what I said last Smnday
in defence of «>ur position as a national Church.

Now the first thing 1 would contend for is the fail
and frank recognition of both anise of the truth. Un

THE CHURCH AND THE CHURCHES 323

the one band, the true Church, the Church, is the
whole body of Christ's disciples. But the idea of a
Church also demands a closer union, a compactor
organisation, a stricter discipline, than can be realised
in so vague an association as that. It is only in more
definite Christian societies that the idea of Christian
brotherhood can be realised in its fullest intensity
and bear its richest fruit, — that fruit which Christ
recognised as a test of true Churchmanship, the fruit
of good works — " By this shall all men know that ye
are my disciples, if ye have love one to another." It
is in a closer union with the smaller body that the
individual realises his union with and membership of
the larger body. We must not interpret the narrow
Churchmanship in such a way as to be inconsistent
with the wider. But, on the other hand, let us
remember, we must not so abuse the wider idea of
Churchmanship as to be inconsistent with the
narrower, indeed, but closer, more practical, more
intimate tie which binds us to the particular circle
of Christians with whom we habitually worship and
co-operate. It is a mistake to suppose that we show
true liberality, true Christian catholicity, by simply
sitting loose to the traditions, the forms, the discipline
of our own particular society. Just as true patriotism
is perfectly consistent with the recognition of the wider
society of the human race, so the individual will best
show his appreciation of the wider Churchmanship by
loyally and heartily making the very most of his
position as a member of the smaller society. The

3 3 4 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

Church will be represented to him by his particu
branch of the Church, while he will never forget tl
outside his own body there remain bodies which
also Churches, and branches of the one true, high
Church.

Are we then, it may be asked, simply to acquic
in the present divided state of Christendom, and
particular to acquiesce in that extreme exaggerat
of disunion which prevails in our own country ? j
we to abandon all struggle and effort after unity, i
acquiesce (for all practical purposes) in the ideal
free competition in religions as in commerce ? I
not think so. That would be, as it seems to me, qi
inconsistent with a due appreciation of the idea of
Church. The ideal is unity ; and we must always
striving after the ideal. But let us realise that ur
is a matter of degree. Observe just where the m
of unity comes in. It is not merely permissible, it
absolutely necessary, that within the one society
Christ's disciples there should be many smaller, m
or less autonomous, societies. That has always been
The Church of each particular town or diocese 1
always recognised as an autonomous community, fi
there was closer union and similarity of usage amc
the different towns of the same province than in 1
different provinces or countries of the ancient woi
No breach of unity was involved in the fact that 1
Churchmen of Carthage did not, as indeed they coi
not, worship with the Christians of Borne, or even
the fact that they worshipped under somewhat differ*

THE CHURCH AND THE CHURCHES 325

forms. The fact that we, at the present day, do
not worship in the same building with our fellow-
Christians even in the same country village, is no
doubt in its way a violation of unity ; but that is not
the most serious thing. The real breach of unity lies
in the want of mutual recognition, co-operation, I may
add mutual subordination, between these conflicting
and competing groups of Christians. Nobody can
doubt that the effect of these divisions does not stop
at the mere waste of energy, the keeping up of two
places of worship and two pastors where one could
suffice, with loss of what each group might gain from
close contact with the others. It does tend to weaken
— it is impossible to say how much — the total strength
which the wider Church can put forth in its battles
against sin and world and flesh. The miserable
education difficulty is an excellent illustration of its
effects. One set of Christian clergy regard as almost
worthless a religious education which fails to teach
children doctrines which nine-tenths of their own laity
do not believe ; and another large body of Christians
would prefer no religious education at all to an
education which gave a shadow of a shade of ascend-
ency to one Church over another in the competition of
interests. It is the want of mutual co-operation — the
want of co-operation, not the mere unessential differ-
ences of formula and the original differences of doc-
trine which are now so much a matter of history and
of tradition — that is the evil to be attacked. What,
then, is the duty of Churchmen towards these divisions ?

336 CHRISTUS IN BCCLBSIA

1. In the first place, I would urge that we thovld
endeavour to get rid of, and to disrlaim o»
possible occasion, the theory of apostolical
as a matter of absolute ne ce s si ty, and all the exrl
ideas about our particular Church which go wuh a
The greatest harm is done, not by the actual di
themselves, but by the theories which treat
matters of vital importance. If once the iinptt— »w
disappears that to the Church of England all Non-
conformist bodies are simply unauthorised, wkknilv
schismatical sects, half the evil — the trorhahtablrfMas.
and the bitterness, and the waste of energy — will U
gone. Cordially to recognise the Nonconformist tod
as Churches, is the fin*t step towards not a lowrr. *
a higher and utrougrr u\vn of /A/ Churrh. To |«\»i
this rtiange of filing within tin* Chun h »hotild i«r
the main ami iiicwt itumediAte effort of ih*«e »b*
desiru as their ultimate goal the visible ntumoa 4
Christendom.

*2. We kIiouKI multiply und increase tn ct«r*
practicable way co-o|«*ratiou between all ChroUta
m* iotioa. I am not i*rticuUrly anxious* todec*!. UuU
|»eople should tfet into the habit of fro|Uent *44*t»a-
ance at the MMvi««-> of other l«»lie* than their o^-a
Ah a rule, 1 think tin* umvctvtl Chun luiwiii-lup n immt
promoted by atUuimu* «»ueM»H utd adhering U> v«w »
uwu |«rticular brmm h of the* Cbui» U uuUl Wf tw ^**l
rett*on to chaiigr it. Hut it *»»t.l«l materially brtp :>u«
co -o| ie i .it ion amou^ <'hn«iuti* if N<»uc«*iforini»ta wrt*
uom And Uien welcomed on ocutaiou* of ix4uftH*o acu«

THE CHURCH AND THE CHURCHES 327

or conference to Holy Communion in Church of
England churches. I trust even now that there are
not many of the clergy who would actually repel from
the Communion unconfirmed Nonconformists * (even if
there is a legal right to do so) ; but what is wanted is
not merely non-rejection, but cordial welcome. There
is something quite pathetic in the way in which Canon
Henson's recent proposal to this effect has been
welcomed in private, if not in public, utterances by
Nonconformist ministers.

3. Are we to be content with these things, or are
we to push on towards further measures of reunion ?
It would be quite unreasonable to expect that any
practicable change in the formularies of the Church
of England should lead to the sudden and widely-
spread influx into the Church of Nonconformist clergy
or laity. They are divided from us — let us remember
— not so much by any peculiar dogmatic tenet or
formulary, either of theirs or of ours, as by differences
of tradition, association, religious habit, devotional
tone. It is not, as a rule, any enthusiastic love
of the Thirty-nine Articles that makes us Churchmen.
It is not merely or primarily an attachment to John
Wesley's doctrines of the Atonement and Justification
that attaches the modern Methodist to Methodism.
The modern Baptist is not primarily an objector to
infant baptism. Still, I do think we are right in insist-

The admission of Nonconformists to Holy Communion, without
insisting upon Confirmation, has recently received the sanction of the
present Archbishop of York.

328 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

ing that closer union than a mere mutual W>h
the ultimate goal to which we should look forward
We can form very vague ami general oaooepcras
of the direction which such movements mar
after take. They might result in wbokmle fo
unions between Churches which have discovered that
nothing essential separates them. The recent amalga-
mation between the Free Kirk of Scotland and \he
United l*resbyteriaiis, aud many similar fus*»&* t;**i
have Uken place in this country ami Antenna. ■!**•
that Huch schemes are not chimerical The further
unity might take the form of the gradual growth *W
some one body at the expense «»f others because thai
ImhIv had purified itself fnmi all tlie narrowae** a» ;
excluaivenes*, the superstitious and inertici<*DCH»» w^ *rk
had kept jxtiple out of iL It might take the f zvz -4
an incorporation in a more world -embracing ilsun. 1 . *(
smaller societies, which should yet retain *>tue organ**-
tiou and independence of their own. It might take
the form of a federation and union of iVHcaftaat
ImmIicm which agree in the essential* of < % hn*!tan truth.
Of Mtill wider schemes of reunion I will n*r nothuw
There may come a time wlteii we nuv get ber\>od lltt
limit* of rp»U"*UuiUMn in our ««')>eitir« %4 rrun^e,
but that can only I** wheu the 1 'hurvhr* i*f thr i .«-
tineiit *hall lia\e tea «-d t»» U\ in tin* prvwtil «rL«r *-t
the tetui, Human \\Y <d»»tild keep **ur uiiud* * y*ru ;^
all the |mMnbihlie> of t!w future. We *U»uki «>
everything in our |*«wet t«» ci»rm~t m our »•»:.
Chutch all tin* thing* t!u*l hinder *m moa»urv **

THE CHURCH AND THE CHURCHES 329

kind of "godly union and concord." We should
bear in mind that there are many kinds and degrees,
many modes and manifestations of unity. We should
welcome every sort and measure of unity, and feel
that whatever tends towards such unity tends to realise
the ideal of the one Catholic and Apostolic Church.

And now let me return briefly to my immediate
subject — the question of the present relations between
the Church of England and other English Churches.
Is there anything in the present legal position of
the Church of England which tends to keep up dis-
sension? I distinctly believe there is not. Among
all the reasons which make one desirous of maintaining
the present relations between the Church of England
and the State, the most powerful is the fact that it
tends towards comprehensiveness, toleration, catholicity
within the Church. And the best way towards more
unity between the Church of England and outside
bodies is to keep up the unity amid variety within
each of the Churches. Further union of the Churches
can only come, I believe, through the further liberal-
ising of the theology of all When theological narrow-
ness and intolerance disappear, there is some hope
that social and political intolerance may disappear
also.

The position of the Church of England involves no
real unfairness to other bodies. No Nonconformist is
taxed for the support of the Church. The Church
did, no doubt, originally receive its property from the
nation in a sense which is not true of any other body ;

33© CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

and in consideration of the fact it is fair and reason;
that the State should interfere with and control
disposition of that property to a greater extent t
it claims to do with the property of other Churc
Every legal privilege that the Church enjoys is ]
chased by a corresponding disability. Its positioi
exceptional, but it involves no injustice. The t
idea, as I take it, of the Established Church in prei
circumstances, is that it is not the only, not the ex
sive, but the typical or representative Christian c
munity — not the only, but the most direct
historical embodiment of the national Christian
The more the Church in the future shall enter i
alliance and co-operation with the smaller volunt
societies to which in the course of its history it
given birth, the more it will make good its title to
I will not say the National Church, but more natic
than any other. The existence of one such body, m
directly controlled by the nation through Farliami
ought to be an aid and assistance, and not a hindrai
to the growth of that wider and more incluc
view of the Church for which in these serm<
I have contended.

XXIV.
THE BROAD CHURCH PARTY.

831

•• For whereaa then* i» among >«»u jcaJotm as»l tuif*. art %*
not <arnal, and walk atVr tbc manner ol men ' IW » Wa «a»
ftiith, I am of Paul ; ami another, 1 am ol Apulia ; are «r a«c
men J— 1 Cor. lii. 3, 4 (R.Y.).

"Other fouti«Utioit (An no man L*\ ih*n that i^k ■• *.n .
winch u Jesua ChruL' -1 Co*, tit. 11 (R.V.).

XXIV.
THE BROAD CHURCH PARTY. 1

IT may seem strange, and even inconsistent, that a
body of men, who profess a special devotion to
the comprehensiveness of the Church of England,
should be seeking to add a new society to those which
already proclaim to the world the divided state of the
English Church. At first sight, St. Paul's indignant
remonstrance with the Corinthian Christians may
seem to rebuke us ; and if less than others we attach
ourselves to any single leader, or any particular set of
dogmatic opinions, a critic might be disposed to place
us in the position of those in the Church of Corinth
who apparently made a boast of their emancipation
from apostolic leadership, who aimed at the formation
of a Christ party intermediate between the conflicting
factions, who tended to make a sect of unsectarianism,
a party of anti-party, a dogma of anti-dogmatism.

And yet, on further consideration, I think that we
may find in the Apostle's exhortations to the Corinth-
ians, full as they are of solemn warning for us, some

1 Preached in St. Peter's Church, Bayswater, London, W., on
Friday, 6th October 1899, before the members of the Churchmen's
Union for the advancement of Liberal Religious Thought, at their
first annual meeting.

338

334 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

oncouragemcnt and function for what we xrr trying :*-
do. He warn* 110, indeed, of the necessity of hmkbn*
upon the one foundation — the historical retrial**} *i
(rod in ChriKt, — and of the danger of putting tml f«r
intellectual school or ecclesiastical party in the plant
of simple devotion to Jmu« Christ, ami to the ideal
of life which He represent*. And yet he tmoc^amm
fully and frankly that there must he diffirreor** *4
opinion, and that these are not inconsistent witli
essential unity. It in the tendency to make differences
of thought or of expression into grounds of prmrixml
separation, rather than those dif fere nce * themselTt*,
that is rebuked

He recognises that the watering of A polios was t><
altogether the same thing as Uie planting <4 l**ul
There were intellectual diflferences lietween them, —
varieties of spiritual tone, of intellectual pcesrota*
tion, of comparative emphasis, — which did nut. h«*w-
ever, make the pwpel of Apollos a diffenrat th:«
from the p«pcl of Paul. The foundation wv the
mnif ; the superstructure was different. Among the
Corinthian* themselves these differences of peprc-
nt met ure hail gone fur beyond any original diflrfrnr*
l*»tween the teaching of the two leader* themsehea
And the developments given by the Corinthian part**
to the original dcjwimt of truth were of very unheal
value. Of the buiMinj that had taken place upon
the one fnumiation, some |«\rt was p»ld. *>rue siher.
si>mo co*tlv Months, some wuod. M>me ha v. inor •Ctibl4e.
Thi» building ««f -ui^t^tni* turv* \i»is full ««f |^nl tart

THE BROAD CHURCH PARTY 335

it is recognised as inevitable ; even the least valuable
of this over-building was compatible with Christianity,
with the personal salvation of the individual ; time
alone could show the real value of these varied
contributions to the adornment of the living temple,
the spiritual house, the Church of God.

Let us try to apply the spirit of this teaching to
our own circumstances. All of us who profess to be
members of the Church of Christ and of the same
branch of that Church, must take our stand upon the
one foundation. In modern language, I think we
may say that we adhere to the three great essentials
of the Christian religion — belief in a personal God,
in a personal immortality, and (while not limiting the
idea of revelation to the Old and New Testaments) in
a unique and paramount revelation of God in the
historic Christ. But we recognise that to this one
foundation there has, in the course of ages, been added
much building-upon. Of the vast superstructure of
doctrinal and ritual and ethical tradition which has
been built up upon and around the essential Christi-
anity which we find in the moral and religious
consciousness of Jesus the Son of God, not. all is of
equal value. There is a great deal of hay and stubble
which has simply got to be cleared away. There is
much wood that has served a useful purpose in its
day, but which must inevitably be replaced as time
goes on. There are parts of the traditional theology
which must be rebuilt; and that which still retains
its value must not be treated as if it were all

336 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

of equal utility or equal intrinsic importaor* »♦
inust leani to appreciate it for what il *. ani
not for what it is not — the gold for goki. and ih»
silver for silver. We must treat it aa the i(«mk-
lion or reflection of bygone ages atmut CTuitf aaJ
His work, reflection from which we have *ttll m^rh
to learn, but which must not be mistaken fur the
foundation itself, and must not (to drop the metaphor!
be allowed to stop the pragma of that bring tf»*jtffct
by which alone can the real meaning of Christianity
be brought home to successive ages, by which ak*K
can we continue the never- finished proceǤ of batktatf
up that fabric of knowledge in which every truth
ban its place, and in its place is recognise*! *»
part of the continuous self -revelation of (tod to :S*
world

Ami U» it remembered, ibis prices* of tit*tuuh:auo
reconstruction, readjustment, in no new thing. Il it
only ignoraiice which »up|«*es that the trmdiUucud
theology of the generation lief ore us i* all ol oo*
piece, all equally ancient, all of equal authority. U
equal value. And it i« only by a very iDphist***!
aud eclectic writing of history Uiat the growth U
Christian doctrine can lie represented as merely a
continuous development, in which there is ei|aa»a.
addition, evolution, but no contradiction, no »urrv«*Wf
of what was once ajwerted. no assertion of what vas
once denied. We talk about our own age as a pmud
of transition ; but in the hutory uf thought etenr
period i* a period of Intuition, except the fvnud* U

THE BROAD CHURCH PARTY 337

stagnation. The periods that we now look upon as
the flourishing ages of traditional theology — the age
of Constantino, the golden age of scholasticism, or the
period of the Reformation — were really the moments of
greatest change. The moment that theology ceases to
move, it loses its hold on the life of the age. If we
want to see what happens when theology ceases to
move, or moves only by the addition of new fancies
excogitated in conscious and deliberate defiance of all
the intellectual tendencies of the age, we have only
to look abroad. There we see some approximation to
a changeless theology; but what place has that theology
in the real working beliefs of the average Frenchman,
educated or uneducated, even when there survives a
reverent sympathy with the Church, by no means
destitute of moral value ? A theology which really
expresses the mind of an age is always giving up old
beliefs and adapting itself to new ones. And yet
through all these changes we can trace the working
of one and the self -same Spirit. Amid all the varia-
tions which Bossuet noticed in the Reformed Churches,
and which he did not notice in his own, there has
never disappeared the distinctive note of Christianity.
We have no interest in disguising the Christian
elements in non-Christian teaching ; but, after all, I
doubt whether there is a page of Marcus Aurelius or
of the purest Buddhism which anybody would be in
the least likely to mistake for a Christian utterance, for
the Christianity which we unfailingly detect alike in the

dogmatic fourth-century Father, the medieval mystic,
22

338 CHRISTUS IN

and the common-sense Christian moralist "t the
eighteenth century.

M Well, then," say our oonsenratiTe friends. • bow Ira*
is this proooes going on ? If Christianity is atwmy* t»
be giving something up, will there not soon be tmthiag
left ? Why can't you tell us at once exactly where y**m
are going to stop ? Surely there must ta thi* or thtl
neat, compact, rounded body of well-defined «Wtnw
on which the Church must always take her stead '
Why don't you tell us where to find it. and then we
shall understand each other?" No. there is xbm
fallacy ! That is just what we cannot do ' N«4
because we expect that the formula of Ntar* will r%rt
lose its value (though the definition* in which tl has
been cuiUnlied may not alwavs be the most natural •*
adtMpiaU* expression of what it means for m*«i
men), not because then* are not many dortnnal
incuts whit h apjiear to tin *a little likely U» nr*jmf*
modification a* Newton's law of gravitatine. l*t\
becniwe we reeinjnise that already, for thou* who n>*4
insint upon the value of creeds, there are many thit«r>
in thcrn which don't mean to them exactly what ihrr
meant U> former a^i^ Nor has Uie real vital »p*it
of Christianity ever shone it* brightest tn the a»«*
venerable, the mont necessary of formuU*. for formal*
hardly *o much a* tttt«*m|»t to etpres* the cKarwrter
of Chtiit. • 'lutiic**, e\|un*i«»ti. dexrl«i|»iiH-nt. wr t»*.i«
expect , mi*l development may itivol\e the tnn^VTM*
tiou, or e\en the sum*nder. of some tbin^« wharh
many of us now hold |*recu>ux But to a*k a* fc*

THE BROAD CHURCH PARTY 339

specify in advance exactly what the changes shall be,
would be to ask us to anticipate the progress of
thought ; it would be to ask us to put some specula-
tion of our own or of our spiritual forefathers in the
place of the historical foundation which we are ever
learning to interpret more thoroughly ; it would be to
prove unfaithful to that article in our creed in which
(next to the belief in God) we see least reason to
anticipate any possible ground for surrender or varia-
tion — the belief in a Holy Spirit still active in human
society. Enough for us if we can catch what that
Spirit is saying in audible trumpet-tones to the
Church of our own day. We cannot presume to
anticipate or to set limits to His revelations to the
Churches of the future. Formula are precious, form-
ulae are necessary; but they are not all pure gold.
And all, even what is of gold, belongs to the super-
structure : the foundation is Christ.

And yet, it may be asked, " Granted that Christians
must think, that thought must be progressive, and
that thought progresses only through differences, why
emphasise these differences by societies ? Can it be
said that the progress of thought, or the healthy
development of Christian doctrine, will be much
helped by societies which, however great the catho-
licity of their professions, are likely to become, or to
be looked upon as, party organisations ? " The doubt
is a reasonable one ; let me try to meet it fairly.

I am addressing those who have for the most part,
I suppose, made up their minds on the subject. But

340 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

wo need to encourage one another in our undertaking
and the encouragement may take the form of ai
apology.

1. Firstly, then, I believe that at the presen
moment there is real need for an emphatic assertioi
of the comprehensiveness of the English Church
In other circumstances, comprehensiveness might seen
best asserted by the absence of party societies, bu
at the present day we know that practically largi
bodies of opinion can only assert themselves b;
means of association. There is a real need that thoa
who believe in the comprehensiveness of the ChurcJ
should bind themselves together, if it were only fo
the purpose of mutual protection. There is a doubl
danger to be faced. The dominance of one part;
among the clergy of the Church of England is sucl
as to threaten the existence of all other schools o
thought; and, on the other hand, among the lait;
there is a danger lest resentment at that dominano
should assume the form of a coercion which coulc
only end in extinguishing needful liberty of though
and of action in the clergy and in congregations
We stand, then (if I am right in interpreting thi
mind of our society), for liberty, within those limit
of discipline and obedience to constituted authority
without which no organised community can live; am
it will be our mission to unite with others in opposing
any party in the Church or outside it, by which fron
time to time liberty may be threatened.

But in speaking of comprehensiveness, we musl

THE BROAD CHURCH PARTY 341

beware of making mere variety of opinion an end in
itself. Liberty is only valuable because without it
thought is impossible. The end is not liberty, but
truth. Amid all the controversies by which we are
surrounded, the most distressing feature is the appal-
ling indifference to truth which (I regret to say it)
seems to be more and more prevalent among large
sections of the clergy and their more zealous lay
adherents. Far more alarming than the strange
ceremonies which cause so much excitement in some
quarters, far more obfuscating than clouds of incense,
far more dangerous than any particular dogma or
tenet, however reactionary, which is gaining ground
among us, is the prevalence of a spirit which con-
demns inquiry, which closes its ears to the results
of sober thinking and historical investigation, which
makes the most tremendous assertions, pronounces the
most comprehensive anathemas, erects the most ex-
clusive barriers against fellow-Christians, upon the
basis of the most flimsy and unexamined assumptions ;
which makes it a point of professional honour to be
too busy to read (that is, to read anything except
the party newspaper) ; which is ever ready to denounce
as disloyal to his Church and to his cloth anyone
whom study or reflection may have compelled to
question some article of the fashionable shibboleth. I
make no accusation, of course, against any one party
in the Church as a whole; immense reservations
would be necessary in applying such remarks even to
sections. I only say, " This spirit is not unknown

34* CHRISTUS IN ECCLBSIA

among iu> ; und this is the »pirit we ate ainu-i 4
there in need that we should unite ourselves together
to oppobe Uuh KpiriL" Many societies cxis*. a* :i
seems to us, which practically tend to farter ikum
spirit of Obscurantism ; is it too much thai there
should lie one to oppose it ?

2. But, it may be asked, how are we likely W>
oppose it more successfully by belongim: t*» U*
Churchmen's Union ?

Secondly, then, I maintain tliat we do want W
reveal the existence of a body of Churchmen who are
opposed to this spirit If I seemed a moment ag^ t*>
take a denjauring view of ecclesiastical tendeor*a*> I
will now go on to make what may at tin* ngt.t seem
the contradictory assertion, that there was wm *
time when there was so much liberal thought W> i*
found amoug the clergy. We are constantly beu*.;
toKl that the Broad Churvh has disappeared 1 K%ea
of tliose wlio could fairlv lie dearnt«*l a* Broad
Churchmen or liberals in the technical or parly
scum* «»f the term, the number is. I belie* c. far
greater tlian it has ever Umjii at any preemts }«***£
in the hi*t«>ry of the Churvh of England . while mosC
of the principles for which the Bruad Churvhmen U
th«* last generation contended are now more **r 1cm
accepted by the enlightened and educated secUout U
both the otlier Chuivh partieK It m ju»t berau<« :hr
work of thc*»e ineu waa ho thoroughly d«»ne Uial the
di*timti\ene-« of the Bnmd Ctiurvh J arty t*>
1 TLu «*• «**J awt fr«|iMtaij i» ll*t tk** *»«.

THE BROAD CHURCH PARTY 343

forces itself upon the attention of superficial observers.
To enlarge the conception of revelation beyond the
limits of the Old and New Testaments, to deny
mechanical theories of inspiration, to question Old
Testament miracles, to accept the results of the most
advanced criticism (at least as regards the Old Testa-
ment), to disown an arbitrary and forensic theory of
the Atonement, to profess that " wider hope " for
which Maurice suffered so much — these are opinions
which no longer stamp a man as a Broad Church-
man.

But if the work has been done, why seek to found
a society to carry it on ? For one thing, the theo-
logical progress which has been made has been largely
neutralised in some quarters by its association with
a narrow, if attenuated, sacerdotalism. And the
general public has heard much more of these retrogres-
sions than of the theological progress which has really
gone on in the minds of many even among extreme
High Churchmen. And again, where the results of
thought and criticism are formally accepted, they are
rarely allowed to modify the ordinary current of
theological teaching. The majority of those who have
accepted the newer way of looking at the Bible keep
it far too much to themselves. And therefor^ I do
believe it is well that the existence of those who
are prepared, not necessarily to accept this or that
particular set of conclusions which for the moment
may be put forward by particular scholars, but to
proclaim that they do want to appropriate the best

344 CHRIST US IN ECCLESIA

results of modern theological study, ami i» hrizj
their teaching into harmony with it — I do bebr>*
that it is well that the existence of Mich a t»«ij 4
Churchmen should be proclaimed by an oulwanl a»i
visible organisation, proclaimed to the outside wurki
and (what is far more important) proclaimed to <o*
another. And that brings me to what is, I bebr\e
the strongest reason for the existence of this sunetj
The number of clergy holding more or \tm detndnil*
liberal opinions, or (let me say, that I may not claim
for any one section of the Church a mooo|*4r U
liberality) who hold liberal opinion*, and who cam**
really identify themselves with either of the tradiUooal
parties, though they may have more or less sympathy
with one or the other of thcin, i* really far Uryrr
than is commonly supposed — a minority, of n»orv
but a very considerable minority, even in |*nnt \4
mere numbers. Hut we are isolated, t*mblv t*>Uini
and many of iw, 1 fear, are timid. Each of us imatPiM*
himself to U» alone, or almost alone And fn*» Ibr
great men in high places who really agrer with %» «e
get little help The young man who, at \hr ug.-
versity, has really had his eye* o|*ned to gnaal in-
tellectual problems, takes holv tinleni wry ofati
with a sincere desire to face di the ul ties in*U»d et
evading them ; to study, to think, to aeek for truth.
and U> teach honest lv — so far as due cotu»dermt>ofi U*
the somewhat spoiled weaker brother will f**rnu: — cp
to the level of his own thinking He pvs to Uv§ \mn*h
in thi« frame of mind . but doe* 1m* there hud. a* a

THE BROAD CHURCH PARTY 345

rule, much encouragement to live up to these excellent
intentions ? Is he not only too likely to find himself
surrounded by an atmosphere in which professional
zeal and professional efficiency are apt to be identified
with adherence to a certain set of party dogmas or
party practices ? The man who questions them, who
declines to un-church Dissenters, who will not profess
a holy horror at least of such abominations as evening
Communion, finds himself labelled "a bad Church-
man." Nobody likes to be called a bad anything. *
The temptation to such a man is strong to say
as little as possible about points of difference, to
make the most of his points of agreement with the
prevailing tendency — not from any sordid or calcu-
lating desire of advancement, but simply from the
natural craving for sympathy and religious fellowship
with his brethren — to be colourless in his sermons,
and neutral or silent at the clerical meeting, to
identify himself as much as possible with his theo-
logical environment, to listen to those who tell him that
higher criticism and that sort of thing are of no use
in parish work, and that the Church — which means
in practice the half-crown manual of so-called Church
teaching — has settled once for all everything that it
is necessary to know, and who insinuate that any
doubts, or difficulties, or scruples he may feel are
probably due to intellectual pride or personal conceit.
And yet, in the next parish but one, it is likely
enough, did he but know it, there is another man
going through exactly the same experience, and crav-

346 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

ing for sympathy. It is the |>rofeasiooal »i«tnt ixi lb*
Church that is the great enemy of thought and pro-
gress — let me say boldly, the great enemy of irvth
and of wltat the professional itpirit can do we haw
had a terrible example of late in the case of an»>thrt
profession and a neighbouring country ! l When usk*
professional loyalty is identified with tenacious adbrr*
ence to a dominant opinion, evidence make* dm im-
premion. I lielieve that it is scarcely pa— Me w>
exaggerate the extent to which we might be siraxtli-
ened in resistance to this characteristic failing in a
profemion of which we are as proud as the n*m»««sl
of Kaoerdotalists, if those who occupy a a*** «*r
literal or central {tosiUon in theological and rev]
astical matters could, through the medium of torn a
sorirty in* this, know each other a little letter, <xmfe?
with ont* another, t*noourav r e one another, and trmij^
their unity with u laige U*ly of clerical opuuua ut
other jiarts of the country, and with a body of UtKtm
as earnest in their devotion to their Church ** It*
lay adherents of the two highly orpin we* I and tmlttaa;
extreme* of theological opinion.

.**». And there in a third reason for such an organi-
sation. Frankly and avowedly our society dues aim
at t*nianci)iatiu^ the Churrh from a yoke wh*h *•
becoming intolerable; but we need m* adu}4^ we arr
uudft no temptation to adopt, an aggressive atutair
t«»*.tnU either of the recognised parties. We wmat
rather to tarry on the Work which they have i«|fut>-

THE BROAD CHURCH PARTY 347

to build upon the foundation which they have laid ;
and there is no reason why men who are not prepared
to renounce all allegiance to one or other of these
parties, but who feel the need for progress, should not
join us. We are at one with the Evangelicals in
regarding the person and teaching of our Lord as the
basis of all Christian thought and practice : only we
want to free this Evangelical principle from its associa-
tion with narrow theories about Christ's work, and a
highly technical psychology of religious emotion. We
are at one with them in placing the Bible at the head of
our religious authorities ; only we must insist that the
Bible to which we appeal shall be the Bible studied
and understood ; the Bible in the light of criticism, of
science, of history ; the Bible placed in its true relation
to the history of other religions ; the Bible studied as
a whole, with due sense of proportion, of the proper
relation of its parts to one another, and particularly
with a due sense of the subordination of the Old
Testament to the New. And I trust we are at one
with the Evangelical party in the conviction that the
essential thing in our religion is personal devotion
to a living God, a personal Saviour, and a distinctively
Christian ideal of life.

It is now generally recognised that the Oxford
movement was a continuation and development of
the great religious revival which preceded it. In a
sense it was a reaction — a reactionary harking back
to the fourth century, to the seventeenth century,
even to the dark ages. But, like all really great

34* CHRISTUS IN ECCLBSIA

reactions, it had in it the seed* of pragires !-•
intellectual horizon was wider than that of ih* par.*
out of which it sprang. Christianity was n*« l-«^r
looked upon an a clotted circle of rigid ami tnel as t»r
dogmas, proclaimed l»y the A|»o*Ues, and aln»»t
immediately ohsrured or buried till the atiWvmh
century. The apj>eal to the Church in |4arv uf U*
IMhle was a step in advance, since the Churrh — the
" Spirit-ltearing body " as the early Father* exprrswd
it — was a living and progressive society. The appeal
to the Church carried with it a reoognit»4i of the
principle of growth, of development, of a |«rj«tca!
inspiration, not limited to the first century «* the
fourtk Tlie miiwion of liberal Christian thou«£ii *;
the present moment seems to me t«> tie simply to earn
on the work of Uie High Church party, ami to emaiKv
{*te the truth to which its teaching owes :U gTvu:
spiritiml triumphs fnmi the too narrow intrlWrtuti
enveloj* by which it* growth has been fettemL

lielieve uk?, we shall never tight successfully a<*UMC
a narrow sacerdotal iitm by Udittling the klra *4 thr
Church. It is its splendid grasp upon the ma^mtKvat
iilea of tin* world-wide religious community. uj»*i the
aortal *ide of Christ utility, that lias givra the Hu^
Church party such a hold u|*m the rrli£K*t* mien! \.4
our a^e. Wliat is wanted is to show that it i* }mnmc4*
to have a strong idea of the claims, the m;m*»n, the
destiny of the Christian auciely, with**st mistaking
the clergy f«»r the Church, and without making the
mevliauiral fait or fiction of the apostolic mtxaiia

THE BROAD CHURCH PARTY 349

into the touchstone of catholicity ; that it is possible
to respect historical continuity, and to strive after
unity, without erecting arbitrary barriers against Chris-
tian bodies with whom we are really much in sym-
pathy, or attempting to construct delusive bridges
between ourselves and bodies from whom we differ in
all but the very essentials of Christian truth. It
must be our mission, not to minimise, but to em-
phasise, the claims and prerogatives of the Christian
society — to emphasise them so much that it shall
become evident that the ideal of the Christian Church
is something too high and too magnificent to allow of
any actual visible society claiming to be more than
an inadequate and approximate realisation of a great
and inspiring ideal. Even in dealing with the ex-
travagant claims of the priesthood, we shall do well,
I venture to think, to emphasise the splendour of the
ideal, and to show that these claims become all the
more commanding when the clergy are treated as the
representatives, the officers, the organs of a self-
governing society, instead of being reduced to the
level of a caste mechanically endowed with magical
powers. Here, too, we must apply the same principle,
and proclaim that priesthood is an ideal ; that only so
far as we can really show ourselves to be the organs of
a Spirit-bearing body can we claim the authority, the
influence, the leadership which ought to belong to the
presbyters of a Christian society. And so with regard
to sacramental teaching. It is not, I venture to
think, our task to depreciate the sacramental prin-

35<> CHRISTUS IN KCCLESIA

ciple, but to show that a high practical appcvcmuao
of the sacraments, of the reverent, and even of the
ceremonious administration of them,
whatever to do with beliefs which, in their exti
form, ought boldly to be described as degrading wmpet-
stitions, and in their attenuated farms come w> •*
little that they elude all intellectual graap* The
more we can enter into ami appreciate the devuUuaal
life, the practical activities, the spirit <»f corporate
Christianity tliat the Oxfonl movement brought with
it into the Church of England, the more sin 1 1— we
shall have in the work of freeing its teaching ttvm
the too narrow intellectual moulds in which it was
cast by the Oxford leadens,

The work has already U**n begun by men «*»•
nuik as the leaders of the High Church l*rty it*ri?
It is by tbeui very largely tliat hbrrty of through*.
ttUnit Biblical question* )ms l<een won for ihe ckr^y
and for the wholt* Church. Am! of late rear* •*
find the old dental pretention* greatly modibe»i
ln*U*ftd of the declaration that the Holy Sptnt *«»
never promised to laymen, we now 6ml. in w*«rk« bkr
Canon (loir's 1 volume on Church Ke/ur in. stn«^ |4na»
Mipjiorted by lmroed and candid cvanunalj"* <V
historical precedent a, for the reawwrrtioti of thr n^hl*
of the lmtr to *it in Church aiwcmhlte*. am! to \«*

m

evt*n «»ii matter* of «li»«truHv Wo find admi****^*
that, ** a umltrt «»f «itupU» history, the a|«*l*4>o**
niHvemoii in thrw di»tin< t onlers is a hcUoo, tifco^ch

• Nov tUftbop u! W

THE BROAD CHURCH PARTY 351

the conclusions which naturally flow from such ad-
missions may be evaded by ingenious expedients.
And there have even been protests against a magical
view of the sacraments, which not long ago would
have caused distrust or scandal.

Those who call themselves liberal Churchmen may
claim to be simply continuing the work of theological
reform begun by the Oxford movement, and carried
on by the more liberal section of its later disciples.
Sooner or later there must come an end to the
association of the liberal tendencies, so conspicuous
in one section of the High Church party, with the
attempts to revive medieval doctrines, to introduce
Romanising practices, to create a tyranny, not merely
of the Church over its members, but of the individual
priest over the individual conscience. A few minds
may long remain unconscious of the fundamental con-
tradiction between the two spirits, but sooner or later
the inevitable breach must come. Nothing but unwise
persecution can delay it much longer. Very largely,
I freely confess, my best hope for the growth of a
liberal theology, of Church reform, and of a more
social Christianity, lies in the gradual development
of liberal tendencies among the High Church leaders,
and the gradual diffusion of their influence through
the rank and file. But this process may be greatly
helped, if there is at the same time a growing body
of clergy who without any attempt to construct a rival
dogmatism of their own, will boldly avow that they
are dissatisfied with the traditional formulae of High

35« CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

Church and Low Church alike; that Christianity
something greater and wider and deeper than par
cries have made it ; and that they will stand by oa
another in the attempt to free the real essential co
of Christ's own teaching from the narrowing accretion
of centuries, and to present it to the men of our a,
in a form in which it can be understood. Far be
from us to claim that it is only we, or only tho
in theological agreement with ourselves, inside
outside of the English Church, who are engaged
this great task. Far be it from us to represent th
the intellectual task is anything but a very smi
contribution to the whole spiritual work of tl
Church — the battle against sin, the struggle f
righteousness, the effort after a juster and nobl
social order. Assertion of the right and duty
individual thought should go hand in hand wil
the growth of ever closer practical co-operation ai
sympathy between Churchmen of all schools. Loyal
to a wider society need not be diminished, it may 1
fostered, by the existence of smaller societies with
its pale. The family is not the enemy of the Stat
nor is true patriotism inconsistent with true cosm
politanism. May the increase of co-operation ai
sympathy between those who think and feel alike i
such a society as this only increase and strength*
the bond which connects us with our brethren, i
humble service of the same Lord and the san
Church !

XXV.

LIBERALISM AND PRACTICAL

PIETY.

*3

" He that U not apiuil tu i» fur u»."-Mah 11. 40 (RVl

•' Up that if not with Me i* ■p*in«t Me ; ar»l hr that |f*i*: «t*
nut with Mr » »ttr net h. r - Matt. hi. >• (K.V .

XXV. 1

LIBERALISM AND PRACTICAL PIETY.

TTTHEN we get two primd facie inconsistent versions
" of our Lord's utterances, it is sometimes
necessary to admit that they cannot both possess
equal claims to historical accuracy. There are
circumstances in which the ready assumption that
both may have been uttered on different occasions is
an improbable one. That is hardly the case with the
verbal contradiction before us. 2

It is not hard to reconcile these two sayings of our
Lord if we attend to the context in which each was
uttered. In the first case you will remember the
disciples called upon their Master to rebuke one who
was casting out devils in His name, and who never-
theless followed not them. In the other case our
Lord was replying to the charge of casting out devils
by Beelzebub, the prince of the devils — "Every
kingdom divided against itself is brought to deso-
lation ; and every city or house divided against itself

1 A Communion address in New College Chapel to a society of
clergymen.

9 I do not mean to deny that the absence of the severer saying from
the earlier Gospel and of the other version from St. Matthew may
suggest a certain amount of critical doubt about the matter.

866

35^

CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

shall not stand Ami if Satan casteth out SaUa. Kr
ia divided against himself ; how then shall his km^i* -o
stand ? " In the one case the man was doing *•• ib«
best of his ability, — successfully or unsuccessfully, *.n
whatever way we understand the nature and lt*>
limits of this spiritual treatment of mental d:%<u.*r. —
he was endeavouring to do in his owu way ih+ \*>:%
self -same work in which Christ Himself *as eri«r*^i
He was unauthorised (so far as it ap|«ears> by iT.n*i
Himself ; he separated himself from the *jv*:. l.<
band, the nucleus of the infant Churrh ; he had i>*
authoritative commission or apostolic*] suoor^xi
Yet he was in his way (according to hi« h^h;«» 1
follower of .Jesus, who Udieved in His powrr*, a- .
enlisted himself in Christ's own :.i.»k «-f ?:.;* ' .
npiinst tlit* powers of evil, brnu'.ru' l-«lily \-
spiritual health to j<utVenn;* humanil). ««*t::iit* i:j :
Kingdom of Heaven iiinon^ men. >uch ii n: *:: •'-
Master said, was on His side. Our Ltd • "•■• ? :
of course. comui«*nil or approve thi* *lc« fnev* *:;-i «*!'■
suftVien* v of Iih ; in all hkehh»»*l it «»■»:!■! !i^-
iKjen U*tt«r for him and f«ir others if he h.»d ■ :.-»i
himself to the upn»t«»hc cotuptny. aiitl leaniol :. rr
of what Ji-mis had to t«-a. h 1U;! -til !;•• » »►• ' *.

to I*' op]«M^tl. i»r •lt'iiouiK-i^l. or rvl t:kcd. >\u :u:.* *
help, instruct »»n — of the?** th:n^. :t ir.;^*»: ?«■ n* .
he j»to*»l :ri i;»t*i Kehuke Wi<uM Liw d««::v :•.•*.
to l!ii» \%nik :u whiih U-th wen* « ::^m^« : * •*.*
other o« i .!.*•:• *u, tl.«* l'liaiiMV* lui I !»vt: ..-ji%: *«;.:. «:
opjme*inj. ascribing to the |«»wer* ««f v\d. Wi-rk U»r

LIBERALISM AND PRACTICAL PIETY 357

goodness of which and the efficacy of which they
could not deny, — holding aloof from the whole
spiritual movement which Christ was inaugurating,
and that on the strength of a theological hypothesis
suggested by pure malignity. In part our Lord's
words may be regarded as a continuation of His
former argument — "Every kingdom divided against
itself is brought to desolation. ... If Satan casteth
out Satan, how shall his kingdom stand ? " "A man
must be on one side or the other," we may suppose
Him to say. If Satan were what he was commonly
supposed to be, he could not be undoing what, from
the medical point of view of the time, was his own
work, promoting the good which it was his chief
object to hinder. But there is also, no doubt, a
reference to the objecting critics, or to others who
were led by such suggestions to doubt whether what
they saw before them was the work of God, and to
hold aloof, though not actually to oppose. In
practical crises like these, a man must be on one
side or the other. Those who were not actively
engaged on the side of Christ and His preaching,
and the kingdom of God which He was setting up,
were really doing what they could to hinder it. He
that took no part in the warfare was really siding
with the enemy, swelling the rising tide of suspicion
and misunderstanding and antagonism which was soon
to bring about the Master's death, and to end (as it
seemed for the moment) the movement which He
had inaugurated.

358 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

It is hardly going far beyond the actual letter ol
our Lord's teaching, if, for our own guidance, vr
modernise it thus. In theological and rccleaumt^cml
matters, our maxim should be, M He that is t** ac*--<
us is for us." On the practical aide the rule rcu.<
be, "He that is not with Christ is against H:txx~
Doctrinal differences, ecclesiastical separation. stx&jd
not prevent our acknowledging, sympathising w-.ij-..
co-operating (as far as we can) with even' kind as*:
sort of }>eople who are fighting fi>r Christ and ff Hji
ideal, as they understand it, to the best of their pvrr
We need not limit the principle to tho*e wh-» i*ufan§
and call themselves Christians* Even tlm*? wr>* •>
not name the name of Christ we mutt nv*rd *• "C
His side junt in so far us tliey arc d«»m«: the w< sk
of Christ We ran sympathise and o»-«'j**ra;e t~n \L<
moral hide with |«*»ple who are inure <»r leu* dv-^fr-hm*.
from the strictly religious side or the*»!*v"v.4! s; ie • '
Christianity ; ami we can et»- operate in u*anv u**::«rr»
of social reform or philanthropy with th*** «bt««
ideal is not on all j«»tnts the ideal which the (>.n*:ur
Churrh exists to set forth. If Christ Himself r^var-i^i
the couiUiting of N»dily disetiM* as {art of Hi* w^fi.
then the work of *<iul reform i« the UiMnev* • i II -^
Chureh . and it* memU*r> mu*t l«e xt«!ou« in l*k.a«:
their j«irt m such work, even when it is imUaU«i *z>\
carried on t»v uunv «h<» follow not them n« r t>*tr
Master.

On tlie thf»>!vt;< \tl s:de our I r. 4X1 in H.::*t ^

** Toleration, sym|*t v .hy t Urge • mindfulness " . km; v«

LIBERALISM AND PRACTICAL PIETY 359

the practical side we must remember the other com-
plementary truth, " Lukewarmne88, indifference, want of
zeal in the practical following of Christ is opposition
to Him. An inactive, unmilitant, non-missionary
Christianity is anti-Christianity." I do not mean,
of course, that we must be forward or ready to
condemn other people who may seem to us to fall
short in this respect, still less to invoke these words
of our Lord against those who may not co-operate
in some particular kind of practical work in which
we are engaged or may happen to think particularly
important. It is to ourselves that we should apply
the principle. And the principle is one which de-
serves especially to be remembered by those who are
most fond of appealing to the other principle in
speculative matters. Toleration, liberality, large-
mindednes8, charity — these are nowadays fairly easy
virtues to most of us, or at least something which
we take for those virtues; though in clergymen it
may still sometimes require a little courage to avow
such sentiments. But as compared with our predeces-
sors, we of the present generation are rarely tempted
to the harsher forms of bigotry and intolerance, even
those of us who may be strongly attached to some
more or less conservative form of theological opinion.
But especially for those of us who are inclined to the
opinions which are called Liberal or Broad in a more
technical sense, there is a real danger that we should
mistake indifference for tolerance ; theological latitude
for real Christian charity; mere immunity from supersti-

360 CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

tion, or what the eighteenth century called ciitbu*^
for real spirituality. We should not allow the un;ia»:
taunts and imputations of ribald ecclesiastical jourc^
to prevent our recogniaing that theological cc^r.-:-
pation (as we may call it)— emancipation from cra-i*
and narrow theories, imaginary terrors* tasekm «| r?
stitions — does bring witli it some moral and relt*^*-*
dangers. Tliat there is moral gain on the wt> W
that in the long run Wisdom will t»c justified ol U?
children. I do not doubt Hut that there t»
danger to deep faith, earnest devotion, practi<ml
for the time being, cannot, I thiuk. be denied It a*
strange, no doubt, that it should be m\ but so it v«
of ton is. Those who, if we took them at their w\ri
believe in a (tod who is rabble of tlie most arbstrar*
injustice, who is pictured either as a •-•rt of M «.**-« * .
devoting whole generation* of men t«> endless t**rv~:*-
bv arbitiarv deeiws, or eke as a *»rt »»f eevle*;a.«s. V
martinet, inskting with funny pun< tili-inne** u|> n t:«-
correct performance «»f a rouu<I »»f |*'tty «'l*rr%ar..**
so ofti'ii (must we in»t acknowled^* M « \h:hit far !!. r»
gra-p «-n the Christian ideal of hp»therh«««l :n :r«-r
hearts and in their lives, than tho*v nh«» mlellr» ; -.a1!i
l«ase their theology on the father k»*l and ut:'.%rr*»!
love of (iod. It !■» a llioiul gain, t>o d«»';bt. to ^-: rv*.

of the le»rnblf id«M «»f everlasting rUnics. « f wL; h
meii inu'ht ftand in (Un^vr for a mommUM <anlf^e
lie***, an nccidrtital death without the op]«*rtuti::y si
rvynUkUi** or tin* opportunity of ntwluti**! . but :t **
a in i- take to UAMime tluit He ncvesaarilv care tu<*e f<

LIBERALISM AND PRACTICAL PIETY 361

goodness for its own sake, because we do not believe
in everlasting torments, and perhaps do not realise
very deeply or very frequently the perfectly rational
idea of a future punishment or purgatory ordained by
a loving God for the spiritual good of His children.
A liberal theology is not necessarily a vague theology,
but there is a greater difficulty (let us recognise it) in
* making it a living, efficacious influence over conduct
— in cultivating that horror of sin, and that zeal for
the spiritual improvement of others, that interest in
the individual soul, which is so often felt by those to
whom the only worthy object of life is the rescue of
as many as may be from an appalling or irremediable
doom.

And if the difficulty of realising and acting upon
a religious creed becomes in some ways greater when
that creed is less formulated, less materialistic, less
arbitrary than it used to be, still greater is the danger
of slackness and irreverence on the side of practical
devotion, — as to those usages of prayer, worship, self-
examination, religious reflection and resolution, with-
out which (experience seems to show) religion cannot
really continue to influence the heart and the life.
When we have discovered that prayer is not a me-
chanical means for influencing the course of external
nature; when we have discovered that worship is a means
to an end, and not an end in itself ; when we have
discovered that sacraments and Sunday observance and
Bible reading are not magical charms, — there is a great
and real danger that we should grow weary of the

36 j CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

effort that they cost, of the time that they :*!<- f
the sacrifice that they call for. When ir bit*
realised that the efHcacy of such means of grao» *i>i
the evil consequences of their neglect have tuturtio***
been overrated, there is some fear U*»t we »h>-uli
overlook their real effect ou character, and tuxi*t-
estimate those {articular sides of character t-> ::»
cultivation of which they are unwt tndi*|**tiaaMe. A«
we study the history of religious thought. *e -i
indeed tiud ample testimony to the »|4ruual % *!;*?.
the direct moral value, of free inquiry and mteliretcal
thoroughness and constant criticism of traditi*taa! idea*.
In the end, no doubt, OlttcuranUsm is dc*;rucme *.(
character; the a;ws of blindest creduhtv hate U%*:; :>*»*
ages of lowest depravity. Hut we d»» ai«-» hnd :*a>;
very often, at thi* «»r tlut moment «»f h>t»»ry ;N-
practical truth and insight have Uvri on the *. r
that was intellectually wrong.

No admiration for the virtues* of tho*e wh»* !«•!:«:*•
what we doubt rdiould ever for one u.**me:;; iua'kv «•
palter with truth, make u» pLiy at hvhe\:n«: :h::.«r»
we really can't U-lieve. or try to keep up ;n *»:h* :*
ludiefs which we have ceased t«» h<»id our*ri\t*. K-;
it should lead us to extract the \erv n*A\*n;un- - i
spiritual truth that U contained m tta>»ne* »:..<h *»
thev stand, ue nvanl as intellectual! v unten*: ie :.
make the maximum uw of the outward ord: :.*:,- r»
whu h mav nometum^ l*» revouimcnded *»n ♦ -;• r
stiti«»un 'ioiiikU , to «ult:\at«* hv e\erv mean* 1:1 ..?
{*»uer the ha hit of ie\cret*«Y and detoUoti a>» +

LIBERALISM AND PRACTICAL PIETY 363

means to watchfulness, recollectedness, an anxious
conscientiousness, a sense of God's presence in our
daily lives.

There is going on in Germany a real religious
revival. The school of Ritschl — the school repre-
sented among living theologians by such names as
Harnack, Hermann, Wendt, and Kaftan — are leaders
of a real religious revival as well as of a theological
movement. With their emphatic assertion of the
personal side of religion, with their determination
to set Christ Himself, instead of the dogmas about
Him, in the centre of their religious thought, and
to insist on the necessity of personal and conscious
communion with God revealed in Christ, we shall
do well to be in sympathy. But in their disparage-
ment of all outward worship, of signs and symbols,
of the corporate life of the Christian community,
they are (as it appears to me) making a great mistake. 1
The word "ecclesiastical" has become to many of
them positively a term of abusa In that Ritschlian
movement lies, I venture to think, the best hope for
the religious life of Germany ; but the school has not
as yet exercised a tithe of the practical influence for
good which has been exercised in England by the
Evangelical movement and the Oxford movement, with
all their intellectual narrowness. The Ritschlians have

1 In the case of some Ritschlians, " non-insistence" would be truer
than " disparagement" ; to some, perhaps, it may be altogether in-
applicable : but the expression is not too strong as applied to Harnack.
The brilliant writings of Wernle represent the anti-ecclesiastical spirit
in a still more aggressive form.

3*4

CHRISTUS IN ECCLESIA

something to learn from the Oxford movement if :S*t
want to imitate its usefulness ; and so have wr. L*'«
us endeavour to identify ourselves a< intimau-W i*
we may be allowed to do with the tradition of m*-
rent devotion and corporate activity. *h:<*h i* :>■*
happy heritage of our English Churvh . let u* *im::?y
ourselves as much as we j>oasibly can with the rvl^r. '_•
life and the practical activities around u*. while w-
strive t<i cultivate in ourselves, and to c**!iiiuun:<Air :•
others, tliat spirit of free inquiry and o|*»-tuiDdr*iaei»
which is, no less than zeal and devotional fervor *
manifestation of the Spirit of God.

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(3) Judtfos. Bj Prof. G. F. Moobe, D.D. Smnd ¥Aiu n IV

(4) The Books of BamaoL Bj Prof. II. P. Sum, I> I> 1 v

(5) ProYirbt. By Prufmor C H. Tot, DD. IV

(6) St. Mark. By Prof. 1-1 P. Gould, 1X1). l<k «.

(7) St. Lukft. Bj A. Plushee, D.D. Fourth Kdiu - IV

(8) Romans. By Prof«»or W. Saxdat, D.D.. LLD. xr>i Rr*

A. C. Hbadlam, 111)., Oxford. Fifth Edition. IV

(9) Phllippians and Philemon. By Prof**** Maei-.i K>

Vincent, D.D. Second Kdition. 8*. 6J.

(10) Ephoslans and Colosslans. By T. K. a**t? m.i

10*. 6.1.

(11) Pstsr and Judo. By Pn>f. Cham.* Him, D D : :* <i

(1) CAwrrA /ZaHj »*)•: ' I>r. tiray't cututufaUry will W .t !.«}*a*».«» w n«r« Ij|jm

■tadent.'

(3) l*rof. (». A. Hmith (la tha <Vi/.aiJ /tifwr) M fi : 'TV* mm ->.;',•. >*« i*: *»

letter iiitr**lv U^u than thi* lolaa* from IU Ok! T«»*ifcM/. • v «• !*

I^rtTrr )>m *vhit-«««l a coairuratary of ran W*rat*f ■»! »t*U av *% *%.-« ^: n a «*i

•ohrtvty of ju*l|(m* tit.'

(3) BUHor II. K Kill. I» I> . ta>» 'I tha.* it a_Ai «*<r> «« »•*•••«. m.*: • *il
ainl Avtruttft/ a i <»mti<« h'.*ry u^*»o Ui* Utt %t*l *»\- m il a**:i«f v!VW l^u . m,+m
ha* ncirf l«ro i<n*lui««i it the Kntfh«h Lanjru*4v

(4) LUt'Ui*-" •*)%: 'Tb« HM»t v.>-tu;SrU At* I ti..«. ulr v«r. n.*»l»ry I i>*ri- ;»* ^ nftt
(6) IV /:.4vu« »»>•:' Matt «t • u^c tak* iu |-U>* a* lU A.ia^rttf .-» ^.«*r-» '

(6) 11m /ii/*/urf .l/ti<^uia* ■*>% ' At Kfu.n-'utiv Av^wat.iv at .1 .• • •» •« ts>. • -«r
TKt --ofi.K'.f hUr ) projvr i« thv.rfM/'iL. ;-.»!*:.>*•. at»! «re4.U :i* • rk . .* a n«saa»
la h«riurnr«:U «.'

(7) Tb# K *• ii *•»• : *I»r. Hun mrr't «nrk is. t*. im! fcarl!? *• «wi k'-innM
loth it '.h* n.!"*la« I*** u>t :d th# ••'-. n-»i:lAn l^at'cr* ••-! \mr-i.m «U
hi* tn^'.n.rut f tl.+ l«-fcliu< . har» t* r:«ti ■« *f ti* I •**(*!

cotitnf> .'a n t. «t.« «tu 1> f St. V*^l

(V) TK# .\Wrw« ««>• " h. ««rfi vat •<>*•.* i .*f ti» •«-'«• «) ^ *•

I*. {**•:)»> Aii-i \ir H**::ab.

(10) T*« An. ii.' -v f w> a»v *T>.#?t t« t • « fk ^ *.'. :i« ' !iVn.ii
tkat !• iJ r«- 'a th'ul . r r.t< r« fvli iV 'i» . l^ A'. '«.4t ?.&&«<•«•-•
— »• Lftl Aib.Mt **j4 ai il U Ltet «nt!#'-. *>«>u

(11) Taa G'tt^ntfMa •*)• 'A -r»t r*U .rtUai «4.tM« cf ti i— gfitjia la* aaaa «nr %
loa< Uaw a f«lt «»ai la Ktutlata ta<o k a>ai btaralsfw . . Mm ka» aaaa afi aa«
tappiaal \y thm UU-an of Oaaoa la*g. . . . Hm a*4at am ran W ■>■■!■ mU

• •

.1 /*■'■■ inlmj. y^vi»y fmtl 4*Ud* +1 fW .Vvi, v%U h* i/ i

T. & T. Clark's Publications.

SDJrt Jntematumal Cjmjlagical Ififoarg.

EDITED BtT

Principal S. D, F. SALMOND, D.D., and Professor C. A. BRIGGS, D.D.

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The First Eleven Volumes of the 8erles are now ready, viz. :—

(1) An Introduction to the Literature of the Old

Testament. By Prof. S. R. Driver, D.D. 7th Edition. 12s.

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Fisher, D.D., LL.D. 2nd Edition. 12s.

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(11) The Bookman says : 'Contains the essence and strength of the whole work of one
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V Prospectus, giving full details of the Series, with list of Contributory po«*. fr«u
24

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The Religions of Ancient Egypt and

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Explorations In Biblo Lands daring lbs Ml

Century. Edited by lWwor 11. V. Hiu>rbcht !<*?*?• •fk
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sYessr* C/«r* *«.r r raurf r« grmmimf «e#r>e. eff««r>*« r« fa « a»awt a ** *«n
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reveals U> 11 a tiii» »•'.•>!.:■! :t.»* ! •«*■ Trr .-■ *) %*. ) **+ l**fc K*!r f<ihM.

' We have f.itiii 1 it »« f ik T^t:f:|( •> » r %•: li .1 1 unu 1 '« ? tA]> « t •%,. **%t m
and excavati"! . ai- 1 •■»•■ i ■mt. 1 »■!»«■••■■ f ir**» ? 4 it rr acd e% r- »• :«•: m '.i« m n tf
dlar«»very tiiif -M«><1 ;!••■:!. We w.-ull iS m> •;: 1 • + •*.w!rrt« t. *•« ■. * t» • a tm*
read li,'— JfrfvWt«f Ti^ *.

The Oldest Code of Laws In the World, r. - r •> f :*»»

pn»nmUMte.i by Hamhvkaii, K:iu «»f IUV>I— . » ■• V-^S .24!
Traii.-latril liy C H W .).>iis«, M A.. I^»t:r • cc A»;-. ujajp

(^Urt'Iis* r^II'Vf. lAttt'f. !»■• . r^iWis J»i.\ Iv f"-: seL

• 1 It* (\*!r ! !li".,»r.rt»i .itl.#r.; »i l-.;--•.a■^ , ft !* iaU« i:*«i .7 iMfs.nnp
— indfwil. it 1 * u<> fu» , .« , r»! b 1 ■ mv i'i! • *n .- -i» f *:» ,i» -vi*. w* <•• -«*c ^ rf *<
lilt'«* ■itf»i;fi«*»n •* f r ti •■ ! *t- • 1 . f (-• '^»* .'* r r*^»r»' « b i •: f >* ".» >««/- t^« •#>"■
the Old Tr«t*i:icii! :! :• a j«rt t -'•xi* «r!- -* •t«*-ft#?t lb v -^a» .^u »• *%U ei
»qual wilb. if » s *' i «N, t!.« t..*v !«--.: 1: 1 *! * £ .as <- .•**'.-. a rf*t4i aa*i ^a> i^*
niitlta.' '« iMi'iit.; *.

The Bible: !-.< o- !fc -:: *r. I N»::rr lv r--fr^-? >?. •» :»c*

<'..»T»*T« Tl.e H. !* a: i • •» T N*. •«! Il^ai T » I'an.ia r.**« *! ( r«
Inapi'a' ?» li.f»'! ; \\ { > r j:.r« T ?■-•!*»*•.: .n«as c? :.• «.•■■• t
llira- .. ^» K." •■:.! : : " r «: «)•«.•

The Religious Controversies of Bootlaad. !•■ K 1

}Cr%i.i T Hen:-e!.« n. M A. t I»^:.d.r. /• •*+ I^m.

C»htiht«» IV. f •».t.».ii ■ .l/eir TV.e Marrow Mea Haxae's JTaaaw #*

Tl.- 1 loh uit lUttlr An A»r»K»re Xtx L%fJkJ Tb» Apha-rvye^aCanxe*
- Kl-«e-l lr«:n^ Ths A" "a- 7/r*ee» Th*- .Se^cA \r
Sbi thr II i^hcf (.Vittriartt Tr.« /%jaia 5r«or '«ar.

f»K Mjeei mni t*+m re* ^*ef e/ e aer*«a eefct** 'fe'fMe m

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The Fatherhood of God in Christian Truth and life. By the
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1 Absolutely indispensable to the understanding of the New Testament' — British
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