The ethics of Jesus and social progress

THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY
REFERENCE DEPARTMENT

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THE ETHICS OF JESUS
AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

CHARLES S. GARDNER

The Ethics of Jesus and
Social Progress

By

CHARLES S. GARDNER,

Professor of Homiletics and Sociology in the Southern
Baptist Theological Seminary.

GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY

NEW YORK

HODDER & STOUGHTON

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P|i:

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AS OR. I :jOX and
TlLO N FO'.; MOAT IONS.

Copyright, 1914, by
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY

TO

^rtaJme ^unwr CiarJmar

IN AFFECTIONATE ACKNOWLEDGMENT 01
WHAT I OWE TO HER LOVING COM-
PANIONSHIP, PURE TASTE AND
HIGH IDEALISM.

PREFACE

For some years it has been my pleasant task
to instruct a group of young ministers in the
Ethics of Jesus. At the same time I have been
pursuing special studies in the science of Soci-
ology, if it may be called a science — and with
certain qualifications it may be fairly regarded
as such; at any rate, it is the most important
field of scientific study which now engages the
attention of men. This book is the resultant of
the convergence of these two lines of study and
teaching. The two questions to which I have
sought to give an answer are, first, What sort of
society would the etliical principles of Jesus re-
sult in if actually reduced to practice! Second,
How far would such a social organization cor-
respond to the goal of social development as the
trend of that development is made apparent by
Sociology? My conviction is that the more defi-
nitely the goal of social evolution is worked out
by the students of social science, and the more
adequately the concept of the Kingdom of God
is grasped by the students of the gospel, the
more nearly they will be found to correspond.

Some readers, perhaps, will regard it as a
serious defect that so little attention is given to
the problems of criticism. The critical questions

7

PREFACE

involved are so numerous, the difficulty in reach-
ing a definite conclusion as to some of them is
so great, and so much time and space would be
required for a thorough discussion of them — ^were
I prepared to throw any additional light upon
them — that no adequate space would have been
left to develop the specific theme which this book
undertakes to discuss. Those who wish to stud}^
the bearing upon the ethical teaching Jesus of
current critical thought are referred to Dr. King's
^'Ethics of Jesus,'' in which he gives an excel-
lent summary of the theories now most promi-
nently advocated, and finds that the essential prin-
ciples of that teaching are embedded in those parts
of the gospel records which even such a radical
critic as Schmiedel leaves intact.

It is my earnest hope that this book may prove
to be not altogether useless in the effort of this
generation to grasp more comprehensively the
social meaning of Christianity and to organize
society according to its principles.

C. S. Gabdnee,

Louisville, Ky,, November 20, 1913,

8

CONTENTS

CBAPTEB PAQE

I. Introduction, 13

II. Sketch of Preliminary Development, 21

PART I.
FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES.

I. The Kingdom of God — A Social Concept, 61

II. The Kingdom and the World, - - 86

III. The Individual Personality, - - - 113

IV. Inequality and Service, - - - 137
V. Self-realization and Self-denial, - - 157

PART II.
APPLICATION OF PRINCIPLES.

I. Wealth — Certain Preliminary Consider-
ations, - 187

II. Wealth — Specific Teachings, - -^ 209

III. Poverty and Equitable Distribution, - 249

IV. The Family, 277

V. The Children, 307

VI. The State, 333

0

THE ETHICS OF JESUS AND SOCIAL
PROGRESS

INTRODUCTION

One is continually impressed these days with the
universal interest in the matter of social adjust-
ment. The press groans with literature discuss-
ing the social question — books, magazines, news-
papers innumerable, treating every phase of it,
in every possible mood, from every conceivable
angle of vision, and with every imaginable grade
of mental ability. It is a subject of animated con-
versation wherever men meet. You hear it on the
train, in the parlour, around the dinner table, at
the club, and sometimes it slips in among the jests
and hilarities of the ballground and the golf links.
The interest is not confined to any occupation or
class or sex. The loafer on the streets, the la-
bourer in the shop, the capitalist in his office, the
minister in his study, the scholar in his library,
the mother in the nursery, have their attention
focused on the problem of social improvement.
Men of low and high degree, who think at all, are
thinking to-day in social terms, no matter what
the subject of their thought may be. Probably
never before in the history of the world were the
minds of men, in a time of peace, so universally
dominated by one great idea as they are now by
this, in all the leading countries of the earth.
For the interest is universal, not only in the sense

13

INTRODUCTION

that it involves all classes of the population, but
in the sense that it extends throughout all the
nations of the civilized world. It envelops the
planet. In the Americas, England, France, Ger-
many, Austria, Italy, Russia, Turkey, India,
China, Japan, the people are astir about ques-
tions which all root themselves in this great prob-
lem.

This social interest is a serious one. It is not
a temporary, passing fad, as some have affected
to think. It draws deep. The most powerful
emotions of the human heart are evoked by it,
and the mightiest forces are called into play.
Individual and corporate selfishness runs through
the whole situation; but at bottom a deep ethical
unrest is the source whence the agitation springs.
That it is no ephemeral craze which can be ex-
plained by ^Hhe psychology of the crowd'' is
manifest if a moment's consideration be given
to the profound causes which have given rise to
it. On the one hand, there is a new and higher
valuation of the common man, which in large part
is easily traceable to a deeper and more adequate
realization of the meaning of the Christian re-
ligion. On the other hand, society has reached
a stage of development which gives new aspects
to the whole problem of social adjustment. Few
people have realized the significance of the fact
that the habitable areas of the earth have now
practically all been occupied. Hitherto, when the
population became so dense that the competitive

14

INTRODUCTION

struggle for existence became too intense for the
weaker members of society to survive, they were
either trodden down into the misery of slow star-
vation and extinction, or the pressure was relieved
by emigration to new and virgin lands. Now
these old methods of solving the problem are be-
coming impracticable. The crushing of the un-
fortunate in the struggle is forbidden by an ever
more emphatic protest of the new Christian con-
science, which invests every common life with in-
finite sacredness ; the method of relief by emigra-
tion to open lands is about to be rendered im-
possible by stern physical limitations. There are
yet left some comparatively unoccupied spaces,
but they are rapidly filling up.

The consequence is that the struggle for exist-
ence is intensified at the very same time that
adjustment by the ruthless exercise of strength
is becoming morally repulsive. We can no longer
leave the weak man to his unhappy fate of starva-
tion or extinction in the struggle, without commit-
ting an outrage upon our own moral sensibilities ;
and he can no longer relieve the situation by es-
caping to free regions where there is plenty of
room. With an increasing sense of the precious-
ness of the most insignificant human life, men
must live and work out their destinies together
in increasingly dense masses, unless the increase
of population is to stop. Not only must they live
together in increasingly dense masses, but must
do so under conditions that are more and more

15

INTEODUCTION

humanly controlled. There is no more character-
istic feature of the life of our time than the con-
sciousness that men, acting collectively, are mas-
ters of their own environment in a measure never
dreamed of in any past age. Actual social condi-
tions are no longer accepted as fate or as the de-
termination of a superhuman power which it is
folly or impiety to resist or to criticise. The re-
lease of the will from this paralyzing fatalism
and passive acceptance of actual conditions has
naturally been accompanied by a great outburst
of discontent and of social idealism. It is the
conjunction of these several conditions, moral
and physical, which has made the social problem
the burning issue of this age. The agitation is
not an accident, nor a superficial excitement in-
duced by the craft of skillful and designing agi-
tators. The essential problem of human life itself
is involved. It is, in the last analysis, a religious
question; and there is a growing recognition of
the fact that no more solemn challenge was ever
presented to our Christianity.

Not only is the interest in this question uni-
versal and profoundly serious, but it is increas-
ingly intelligent. It attracts, more and more, the
systematic study of the profoundest minds of the
age. Many of them have set for themselves the
task of studying the whole process of social de-
velopment in order to discover and formulate the
general principles that underlie the experiences
of men as social beings ; and out of this manifold

16

INTRODUCTION

experience to gather the knowledge wHcli will
illuminate the problems of the present and of the
future. In this way it is hoped that society can be
so enlightened, so equipped with positive knowl-
edge, as rationally to control its further develop-
ment. Hitherto men have, for the most part,
groped in their social experience, guided by flick-
ering lights, only dimly conscious at best of the
significance of their social relations; and, being
at once gripped by blind custom and impelled by
blind needs from behind, have had little foresight
of the end toward which as a collective body they
were moving. Like so many automobiles without
headlights, the great human groups have plunged
onward into the darkness of the future, and it is
no w^onder that catastrophes and tragedies have
marked the way. Out of the vast and varied ex-
perience of mankind in associated life, is it not
possible to gather wisdom which, like a great head-
light, will enable society to guide its course toward
the goal of universal well-being? This is a great
undertaking, and it cannot be accomplished with-
out bringing into requisition all the capacities and
resources of human intelligence.

Out of this effort has grown a new science,
which is yet in the formative stage, but which is
already working out a body of knowledge that
will prove of inestimable value in guiding prac-
tical adjustments. That science is without any
religious presuppositions, and began, indeed, in a
spirit rather antagonistic than favourable to re-

17

INTEODUCTION

ligion, but has been coming steadily into an atti-
tude more friendly to Christianity. Whatever
may be the attitude of individual investigators,
the practical conclusions to which their investiga-
tions are pointing are in harmony with the de-
mands of Christianity interpreted as a social
religion.

One of the most striking aspects of the present
situation is the new sense of the social implica-
tions of Christianity. The new science has won-
derfully enriched our conception of men as social
beings. Men are no longer thought of as so many
distinct, separate, independent beings, with only
external and, for the most part, accidental re-
lations with others, each working out his own
destiny for himself. Each human being is now
seen to be a focal center in which innumerable
influences, material, intellectual and spiritual,
both past and present, converge, and then in new
forms radiate out into the present and future.
Like the individual notes in a strain of music, each
person is distinct from others; but as the notes
combine to make harmony or discord, so these
conscious beings find the meaning of their lives
in their relations with one another.

When with this consciousness of the social
meaning of personality one turns to the gospel,
he sees a larger and deeper meaning in the great
words that were dear to him before, but now
become doubly dear — love, righteousness, atone-
ment, salvation, the Kingdom of God. Thus, the

18

INTRODUCTION

new science of social relations lias opened new
and rich fields of thought for the students of
Christian ethics and theology, who are beginning
to feel that one of the great religious tasks of
this generation is the proper correlation of Chris-
tianity and social science in their common task
of guiding society toward the goal of universal
righteousness. For, if the Christian enterprise
needs to utilize the contributions of social science,
the latter no less needs the inspiration of the
Christian ideal. The Sociology that ignores or
discredits Christianity is sure in the long run to
fail in its efPort to give an adequate theoretical
account of human society. It will inevitably drift
toward a materialistic and necessitarian inter-
pretation of life, in which the human mind can
never rest, simply because it is human; and it
will also fail in its practical purpose of guiding
social adjustments toward an ideal, because it
will not be able to call to its aid the profound
religious emotions of the heart. This book is
written in the firm conviction that in a proper
correlation of social science and the rehgion of
Jesus, the former mil be lifted to a larger and
more adequate conception of the phenomena it
seeks to interpret; and the deeper meaning of
the latter will be disclosed to the great enrich-
ment of Christian thought and the stimulation
of Christian effort.

It need hardly be said, however, that it is not
the purpose of this book to undertake to set forth,

19

INTRODUCTION

even in outline, the whole content of the doctrine
of Jesus. His religion contemplates man as more
than a denizen of time; it looks upon him as a
citizen of eternity. A religion which adequately
meets his needs as a being who stands in eternal
relations and is destined to individual immor-
tality must include in its scope more than a prin-
ciple and program of social adjustment within the
realms of time and sense. There are, therefore,
phases of the rehgion of Jesus which do not come
mthin the compass of this book; but, since the
life of a man is a unity of many factors which
are continually reacting on one another, and a
continuity of sequences, each of which conditions
that which follows, the social phase and signifi-
cance of religion cannot be neglected without im-
pairing the beauty, the harmony and the adequacy
of it all.

20

SKETCH OF PRELIMINARY DEVELOP-
MENT

I. Kinship Groups. — In order to understand and
appreciate the social significance of the work of
Jesus, it is important to view it against the back-
ground of the previous development of society.
His work was, and is, intimately related to the
whole social history of mankind. So far from
being an isolated and unrelated phenomenon, his
life and teaching may be taken as the best point
of observation for a comprehensive survey of the
whole* course of social development. It is, of
course, not the purpose of this book to undertake
such a comprehensive survey; but in the convic-
tion that the work of Jesus cannot be adequately
interpreted unless viewed in proper relation to
the previous social experience of mankind, it is
deemed best to begin by briefly outlining that
experience. It may seem a far call from the re-
mote social origins of the primeval world to the
work of Jesus ; but if the reader will have patience
to follow the sketch of social development from
the beginning, as presented in this chapter, he
will, it is believed, see a relation between the two
which justifies this method.

So far as definite information is obtainable
as to the forms of associated life in the earhest
times, men dwelt together in small kinsliip-groups .

21

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

These little bands led a relatively isolated life and
developed peculiarities of look, of speech, and of
mode of life ; but though relatively isolated from
human kind, must occasionally have come in con-
tact with other groups, which had likewise be-
come peculiar in look and speech and custom.
When they met, hostility was usually the result.
Originally the word for '' stranger" was prac-
tically synonymous with that for enemy. Beyond
the limits of the kinship-group there was little or
no sense of community of life. The ^^conscious-
ness of kind" did not extend beyond the limits
of common speech and custom, and the sense of
moral obligation was felt only within those limits.
There was no sense of duty to the stranger as
such. Hospitality was enjoined and practiced,
but the basis of this injunction in primitive society
seems not to have been a sense of obligation to
treat kindly one's fellow-men; in fact, the stran-
ger was hardly felt to be a felloiv-man; the fellow
feeling being limited to those of one's own blood.
It not unfrequently happened that the stranger
who was hospitably entertained under the roof
was killed by the host after he had departed.
This singular paradox is probably to be explained
by the notion of magic, so prevalent among prim-
itive peoples.

The organization of the kinsliip-group was
rudimentary. It was a small aggregation, and
led for the most part a monotonous life. The
crises that occurred were rare and were due prin-

22

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

cipally to changes in natural conditions or to con-
flict with other clans or tribes. There were lead-
ers for such crises, but leadership usually coin-
cided with age and experience, and was at first
concentrated in the man who stood at the head of
the little band. Of course, this general function
was divided and distributed among several men
as the clan enlarged and its organization devel-
oped ; but at first this organization was extremely
simple. The liighly complex and many-sided
social structure of later ages existed only in germ.
The structure of the kinship-group bore about the
same relation to the organization of modern so-
ciety as the acorn does to the oak tree.

There was present in the clan the beginning
of political authority, and this was more highly
developed in the tribe. But, for the most part,
custom was the means or method of social con-
trol. The life of those early groups was com-
paratively uneventful and monotonous. The
stream of life flowed along in the same channel
from generation to generation. New ideas rarely
intruded, and were as rarely accepted when they
did. New modes of life, new ways of doing things,
were seldom observed, because of the rarity of
peaceful contact with other peoples, and seemed
always to be violations of a sacred order. If
some bold indi\4dual originated a new way of
doing, he was in danger of paying for his temerity
with his life. One of the chief duties of parent-
hood was to train the children in the traditions ;

23

PRELIMINAEY DEVELOPMENT

and the aged leaders considered it their chief busi-
ness to guide the people in the ancient ways.
Custom has been described as a hard cake that
forms over the life of a people. With a group
of people that live an isolated and monotonous
life this cake deepens and hardens with time;
and modes of life which have been handed down
from past generations seem to them sacred, neces-
sary, inviolable. Custom grows in sacredness and
in rigidity with the length of time that it prevails
undisturbed and unchallenged. It covers and
regulates nearly all the activities of the day, ex-
tending to minute details of action. The viola-
tion of any of these regulations w^ould appear to
the primitive man to be an impiety which ex-
posed him to dreadful consequences. Custom thus
became a pow^erful imperative, resting with the
weight of the whole past upon his mind, keeping
the will in bondage, paralyzing initiative, and
holding the personality in swaddling clothes. The
assembly of elders, which regulated the affairs of
the tribe, were themselves controlled by custom.
They were, in fact, the custodians and guardians
of the customs and sacred traditions.

We should naturally expect that under such
life-conditions there would be but a low develop-
ment of individuality. The average development
of personality in a group rises with its increas-
ing size and the complexity of its organization,
supposing other things to be equal. This prin-
ciple cannot here be elaborated and demonstrated ;

24

PRELIMINAEY DEVELOPMENT

but there is no principle of Sociology better es-
tablished. Among primitive people the average
individual personality was not highly developed,
and did not count for much. The emphasis rested
rather on the integrity and life of the community.
All the conditions tended to place the emphasis
there. It could not well have been otherwise.
Only thus could the group be maintained and de-
veloped; and its development was the primary
condition of the welfare of its members.

In primitive societies almost every act and
thought was prescribed ; if not by law, by custom,
which penetrates into the minutiae of life more
deeply than law can. The assertion of an indi-
vidual right against the community was very rare.
It is quite true that the life of an individual in
an advanced society is just as closely identified
with the common life as in a backward society —
the fundamental and essential relation between
the two is the same; but the emphasis in con-
sciousness is very differently placed. The social
life may be described as an ellipse, one focus of
which is the individual, and the other the group.
In the primitive society the latter was central in
consciousness; in the highly developed society it
is the former.

But apart from the difference in emphasis
upon the individual and the collective life, the
individual as such was, on the average, less highly
developed in primitive than in more advanced so-
ciety. The movement of life was slower; the

25

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

circle of interests narrower. The mental stimu-
lations were more rare ; the occasions for personal
choice and discrimination more seldom. Con-
sciousness was less intense and alert, and the
range and variety of experiences far more limited.
These facts are evident ; and it is equally e^ddent
that it was quite impossible under such conditions
for individual personality to be on the average
so highly developed as under the contrasting con-
ditions of a highly complex society in which life
is more intensely and variously stimulated and its
latent capacities called forth. This is not to say
that under such circumstances no strong and mas-
terful personalities appeared. But it does mean
that they were more rare, and that a larger pro-
portion of the people were incapable of personal
self-direction and fell more directly under the
power of strong leadership. Probably also the
men who were dominant in those small and back-
ward groups were, as a rule, far less powerful,
less highly developed in their individuality than
the leaders of the larger and more advanced com-
munities, and were more thoroughly dominated
by custom. Everyday experience teaches that the
great man of the village may be a small man in
the metropolis. Just so, the leader of a clan or
tribe, though he may stand out in striking pre-
eminence among his tribesmen, must not, there-
fore, be assumed to posses an individuality and
a personality of the same measure as the leader
of a modern nation, though the latter may be far

26

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

from enjoying so absolute a transcendence over
his contemporaries. The life of a small primitive
group may be likened to a low, flat plain, with here
and there a hill to relieve the monotony. The
life of a highly developed society is like a table-
land, whose general high level is broken by many
lofty peaks and ranges.

For our purpose, the most interesting phase
of the life of those early peoples is their religion,
though only one aspect of it can here be empha-
sized. We have become accustomed to think of
religion as a voluntary affair of the individual.
In primitive societies it was primarily an affair
of the clan or tribe. There were no clear lines
of distinction between the group considered as a
political body, as an economic body, and as a re-
ligious body. As a rule, the further back one
goes, the more dim become these distinctions, until
in the earliest stages of social development these
several interests are scarcely distinguishable. The
religious and political functions belonged to the
same person or persons. One was born into the
religion as he was born into the tribe. The god
was regarded as standing in some sort of rela-
tion to the people as a unit. He was a divinity
of the whole body politic; for this primarily he
cared, and over its destinies he presided. For
the indi\ddual as such he cared secondarily. As
the object of the divine care the individual was
regarded chiefly in his collective relations, and
did not choose his religion any more than he did

27

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

Ms tribe. In all societies the social function of
religion is to afford a divine sanction for human
values, a divine protection and furtherance of
human interests; and in a social state wherein
not the indi\idual but the collective life was the
center of value on which consciousness was
focused, it was natural and inevitable that the
concern of religion would be concentrated on the
same point. As one looks backward to the prim-
itive social conditions, the individual seems to be
more and more completely subordinated to or
merged in the community. The religion was
adapted to these conditions. It had respect pri-
marily to the group, and to the individual chiefly
as he was contemplated in his relations to that.

At this stage, religion, custom, art, law were
not clearly separated in thought from one another.
These great human interests, so distinct in our
thought, were implicated in each other, or blended
in a way which is rather confusing to a modern
mind. Indeed, the fundamental characteristic of
that early social life was simplicity rather than
complexity of organization; in other words, the
absence of distinction in the interests of life.

The chief social advantage of religion, there-
fore, in the earlier history of the race, seems to
have been to afford a divine sanction for the cus-
toms handed down from the past. It exerted pri-
marily a conservative influence, stereotyping life
and rooting the traditions in a superhuman ori-
gin ; and so tended to produce and maintain unity

28

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

and uniformity of life. Many sociologists ascribe
no other value to religion even in the most ad-
vanced societies ; but in this they err. Religion is
bound up with man's ideals ; religious conceptions
are idealizations of the world. The primitive
man's ideals were not only fashioned out of his
past experience, as all men's are, but were sup-
posed to have been realized in the past. This was
true of all, especially of his social, ideals. As men
advance in their development, their ideals, while
still necessarily fashioned out of the mental mate-
rials gathered in experience, represent new combi-
nations of these elements and are projected into
the future as goals not yet reached, but to be
striven for. As this change takes place religion
ceases to be a merely conservative or stereotyping
influence and becomes a renovating, reconstruct-
ive force. But at the period whose general social
outlines are here sketched, religion was primarily
an affair of the group, conserving its interests,
consecrating customs the observance of which was
thought to be the condition of its welfare, secur-
ing the conformity of the individual to commonly
recognized standards of life, and so the unity and
solidarity of the group. All the religions of the
ancient world were of this type, and may be called
** group religions" in contradistinction from the
more individualistic conception of rehgion in mod-
ern times.

Of course, there is a sense in which religion
is yet, and always will be, an affair of groups;

29

PRELIMINAEY DEVELOPMENT

modern men of like religious views and sentiments
are naturally drawn together and constitute asso-
ciations of the voluntary type. Eeligion has al-
ways been and always will be a group-forming
influence. But in primitive times the clan or tribe
and the religious body were identical. The trans-
ference from one kinship-group to another was
also a transference from one religion to another.
When these clans developed into tribes and later
into nationalities, the religions like^vise developed
into tribal and national cults. As the result of
a long development, through the incorporation
and amalgamation of many alien kinship-groups
in one state, the sense of the blood-bond as the
principle of political union disappeared ; and then
it became possible for men to distinguish in
thought the religious from the political com-
munity. But the tendency to identify the two
has been a persistent one, and in mediaeval times
it emerged again in the conception of a state re-
ligion. The two had, however, been so thoroughly
dissociated in the epoch which saw the origin of
Christianity that the ancient idea could not again
be reinstated in its purity ; for the union of church
and state, while it was a revival of the ancient
sentiment, was nevertheless not a perfect repro-
duction of the primitive notion. The pre-chris-
tian idea was not that of a union of a religious
with a political institution, but rather that the
kinship-group ivas a religious body and that the

30

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

state, developed out of the kinship-group, was a
religious institution.

II. National Groups. — As before intimated,
the clans of the primitive world developed into
larger aggregations with a somewhat more com-
plex organization. Through natural expansion by
the increase of numbers; through amalgamation
with other similar bodies, usually as the result
of conflict and the subjugation of the one by the
other; and through the absorption of alien ele-
ments in various ways, the tribes grew into states
and nations. There thus arose in the ancient
world three great nationalities into whose social
characteristics and ideals it is necessary to get
some insight in order to see in its proper his-
torical setting and to estimate aright the social
significance of the work of Jesus.

Let us begin with the Greeks. It is impossible
to determine adequately the causes which led to
the development on the Greek peninsula of the
rich and splendid civilization which so early ap-
peared there. It is probably to be accounted for,
in part, by the peculiar geographical conditions,
which were such as to afford an exceptionally pro-
tected situation and at the same time to promote
the art of navigation, which brought the inhab-
itants into easy, frequent and stimulating contact
with neighboring peoples. The climatic and eco-
nomic conditions were also favorable, furnishing
adequate stimulation to human faculties without

31

PKELIMINAEY DEVELOPMENT

tlie oppressive severity which in more inhospitable
climes made much slower and longer the process
of achieving such a mastery of nature as would
afford a basis for a high civilization. At any rate,
we know that in that highly favoured and delight-
ful habitat there early grew up a civilization
which in many respects was quite remarkable.
Some features of that civilization are of im-
portance in this discussion.

First, there occurred a rapid and extensive
development of the social structure, both in its
political and economic phases. By peaceful ab-
sorption and by violent subjugation many alien
elements were incorporated in the political body ;
trade and manufactures grew at a rapid pace as
a natural result of extending communication both
within and beyond the group. A corresponding
development and diversification of all the inter-
ests of life took place.

Second, simultaneously with and partly con-
ditioned by this national expansion, political or-
ganization and commercial activity, there took
place a truly phenomenal development of the in-
tellectual life. Such a development could hardly
have occurred if the national life had not been
enriched by a great increase in the number and
variety of social relations ; but clearly this alone
cannot account for the remarkable efflorescence of
the intellect which characterized Grecian civiliza-
tion. Other conditions were exceptionally happy,
and the rapid progress in social organization

32

PEELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

seemed to afford the opportunity for the intensive
action of all the other favourable influences.
Athens became the brain of the ancient world.
In the capacity for clear conception and discrim-
ination the inhabitants of Attica have never been
excelled. Their sense of form and proportion
has perhaps never been equalled. Their philos-
ophy has never been surpassed in its ambitious
effort to give a rational explanation of the world.
They were the inventors of the science of Logic,
in which they reached a high degree of proficiency.
They were the forerunners in the scientific study
of nature ; and Aristotle made considerable prog-
ress in the use of the method of observation, the
wonderful scientific value of which was perceived
at a later time by Bacon. The Greeks were the
first people in the world to undertake a rational
criticism of the ethical standards of conduct and
the systematic analysis of the social order. Along
with the Hebrews, who, as we shall see, ap-
proached the problem from a very different direc-
tion, they were the pioneers in the construction
of social Utopias. In all lines of distinctively in-
tellectual effort they were distinguished. It may
well be questioned whether in an equal length of
time and among a people of equal numbers there
was ever so varied an intellectual activity, result-
ing in such splendid intellectual achievements, as
marked the age of Pericles.

In the third place, from this advance in social
life and intellectual endeavour there resulted

' 33

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

naturally a marked development of individuality
in the population. The development of complex
and varied social life always furnishes to men both
the opportunity and the stimulation to follow each
his individual bent and to call into exercise his
peculiar personal capacities; while the growing
intellect criticises tradition and examines custom
to see if it has a rational justification, and so
breaks the spell of sacredness which gives it un-
questioned authority over conduct. The growing
personality thus bursts the bond of tradition,
which is useful and necessary in the primary
stages of development, as the egg-shell is needed
by the nascent chick ; but at a later stage is a hin-
drance to growth. The progressive organization
of society is an important objective, and the crit-
ical activity of the intellect an important sub-
jective condition of setting free the potentialities
of the individual.

We can see, therefore, why and how, among
the Greeks, there grew up a new sense of the
value of the individual. Personality asserted
itself. They discovered that the ideals of life
were not to be found in the past, borne down
to them on the sacred stream of tradition; and
constructed for themselves ethical and social
ideals which became the goals of individual and
collective effort under the guidance of reason and
conscience. Freedom of thought gradually gained
ascendancy among them; democracy worked as
a ferment in the social order. Great thinkers

34

PEELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

attained an elevation which permitted their own
sympatliies to flow beyond the limits of the ancient
group boundaries; they gained a vision, broken
and incomplete indeed, but still a vision of a
universal humanity, embracing all peoples and
tongues. Even the common people came to have
in some measure the cosmopolitan breadth of
view which usually accompanies democracy.

But, in the fourth place, the Greeks failed to
attain to the complete emancipation of the indi-
vidual. In the proudest period of their history
their conception of individual human value was
seriously defective. Their conception of a uni-
versal humanity was incomplete in two directions.
First, their recognition of the full, complete, and
equal humanity of the non-Greek peoples was not
clear and without reservation, except, perhaps, on
the part of some of their very greatest spirits.
Even with their philosophers, such a recognition
was more in the nature of an abstract intellectual
theory than a concrete, practical, heartfelt fellow-
ship with all men. In the general thought, the
title of the barbarians to complete humanity was
not admitted. The Greeks not only thought them-
selves a preferred human stock — this is too com-
mon a presumption of every racial stock, even
until now — ^but they did not have a clear and keen
sense of brotherhood with other human groups.
Second, their class spirit was a still more serious
limitation upon their sense of universal human
brotherhood. Even their loftiest minds never

35

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

rose higli enough to suspect that slavery was not
a natural, necessary, and righteous factor of an
ideal social order. With their radical democracy
they combined a most degrading system of human
servitude, which did not have even the poor ex-
cuse that it consisted in the subjection of a mani-
festly inferior race which was incapable of self-
government. To the Greek mind the institution
of slavery did not need any excuse or even palli-
ation; it was the foundation of the ideal social
order. It was an outstanding feature of the
Utopian scheme of social organization constructed
by the greatest of Greek minds. The fundamental
principle of Plato's ideal social order was the
rule of the wise, that is, the men of insight. It
enthroned intellect. Below the philosophers was
the warrior-citizen class, who defended the state
and administered its affairs under the direction, of
course, of the thinkers. Below this was the arti-
san or labouring class, which constituted the eco-
nomic foundation of the state and performed the
tasks of drudgery.

This, in bare outline, was the highest contri-
bution of the Greek mind to social ideals. It was
not without some elements of beauty and excel-
lence; it exalted reason and proposed to subject
all social activities to rational control; and the
Greek notion was that rational and moral conduct
coincide. But its defect is strikingly obvious.
The masses of men were without personahty and
must be less than men in order that the few might

36

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

enjoy the real values of life. Nor was this felt
to be an injustice inflicted upon the common peo-
ple; it was not a destruction or degradation of
personality ; for, according to the Greek view, the
masses did not possess personality, with its right
to free development. That was the natural en-
dowment of the few. The labourer was not com-
monly thought of as a man, in the true sense of
the word. He was something intermediate be-
tween a man and a brute, partaking somewhat of
the nature of both — superior to the brute in that
he possessed certain human faculties which fitted
him better to perform the services necessary to
the dignified life of his master, but like the brute,
having no other end than this. Individuality, per-
sonality, intrinsic worth, the right to think for
one's self and to participate in the government
of the state and in all the liigher activities of
life — these were blessings possessed in unequal
degrees even by those who stood above the level
of the servile class. The dignity and value of man
as man those gifted people did not perceive, al-
though both in their philosophy and in the demo-
cratic organization of their state they accepted
principles which would seem logically to lead to
this conclusion.

What is the explanation of this striking in-
consistency, of which many people since their time
have been guilty, though not in so notable a de-
gree! Perhaps an entirely satisfactory answer
cannot be given, but this is certain : no people have

37

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

ever attained or can ever attain to the apprecia-
tion of man simply as man, can ever clearly per-
ceive, much less feel, the essential sacredness of
every man and the real brotherhood of all men,
without postulating an ethical personality as the
ultimate principle of the universe; in a word,
without ethical monotheism. The Grecian con-
ception of the world was fatally defective just
here. The Greeks peopled earth and sky with
divinities which were all deficient in etliical
quality. The morality of Olympus was hardly
as elevated as that of the Areopagus. And back
of this swarm of divinities — ^who seemed to obey
no law of action higher than might and intrigue —
loomed, indistinct yet substantial enough to cast
its chilling shadow upon Olympus and the world
of men, the ultimate principle, their real divinity,
blind Fate or Necessity. With such a dark back-
ground for all their thinking, is it any wonder
that that brilliant people failed to grasp with
deep ethical feeling the intrinsic sacredness of
personality and to perceive in every man simply
as a man an immeasurable value?

If we should attempt still further explanation
perhaps we should find that the reason why a
people so gifted and so advanced halted short of
this goal and seemed unable to go further, was
that they attempted a more exclusively intel-
lectual or rational solution of the problem of life
than any other. Unquestionably the intellect has
an important and indispensable function in solv-

38

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

ing the riddle of the universe ; but when it under-
takes the task alone it always and inevitably
reaches an impersonal principle as the ultimate;
and a universe which in its ultimate principle or
cause is impersonal can never be the temple for
the consecration of the personality of man nor
the home of a universal ethical human brother-
hood.

Here, then, the Greeks reached the limits of
their social development. They made notable
progress; their civilization achieved much both
in the development of a social organization and
in the individualization of men; but the latter
process they were quite unable to carry to com-
pletion and were arrested therefore in the former.
They could not wholly transcend the narrowness
and exclusiveness of the ancient isolated group-
life; they failed utterly to place the crown of
dignity upon lowly men, and to feel the sacred-
ness of simple humanity; they did not see with
unclouded vision the essential glory of the human
personality, — and their failure was due in part,
certainly, to the fact that in attempting the solu-
tion of the problem of life by the rationalistic
method they inevitably ended by making an im-
personal entity the fundamental principle of the
universe. After their brave beginning, social
progress could go no further with them because
it lacked a sufficient religious and ethical basis.

It is the fashion now in scientific circles to
regard religion as a product or a resultant of the

39

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

social experience of a people. There is abundant
reason, which cannot be elaborated here, to re-
gard this as a very partial and one-sided account
of the relation of religion to the social life. I
grant that religion does reflect the social life;
is, so to speak, an adumbratium or a sort of
idealization of it projected into the heavens; but
it can easily be shown that it is something more
than a mere effect. Religion is also a powerful
cause, a factor of first importance in fashioning
the social life. If there is a defect in the re-
ligion, it reacts hurtfully upon the social develop-
ment. In fact, in the social life, as in every evolv-
ing system of energies, there is no such thing as
a mere effect. The action and reaction of forces
is so complicated and far-reaching that every
effect is also a cause and influences the whole
system. We are, therefore, justified in maintain-
ing that a people who have a fatally defective
religion either will inevitably suffer an arrest
in their development or their development must
be turned into a channel which leads ultimately
to decadence. The Greeks had a religion wliich
was thus defective, which did not exalt the ethical
and personal by postulating an ethical person-
ality as the central being of the universe. It
did not, therefore, contain the moral principle
which alone is adequate to the organization of a
universal brotherhood of man.

The development of the Hebrew group ex-
hibits peculiar features of special sociological in-

40

PRELIMINAEY DEVELOPMENT

terest. For some reason the ethical values re-
ceived the main emphasis in the development of
this people. The orthodox explanation of this
fact is that in the beginning of their history and
from time to time throughout their career their
leaders were the recipients of special divine reve-
lations. Attempts have been made to find in cer-
tain peculiar incidents of Hebrew history a purely
naturalistic explanation of the striking ethical
quality of that religion, and such efforts have
cast much valua})le light upon the problem. But
to a candid judgment this explanation is not en-
tirely satisfying, because the racial and economic
conditions of Jewish development in their gen-
eral factors have not been shown to be sufficiently
unlike those of other nationalities to account for
the remarkable peculiarities of this religion. The
truth probably lies in a correlation of the two
explanations, for they are not fundamentally in-
consistent. Certainly a people's conception of
God is necessarily determined by its social ex-
perience. If God seeks to reveal Himself to men,
how else is it possible for Him to do it except in
terms of their experience ? The fact that religious
ideas are always cast in the mould of social ex-
perience does not at all render it incredible that
God objectively exists and communicates Himself
to men. It can be shown that the concept of the
human personality and the idea of a material
world are also conditioned by social experience.
But however one may account for the singular

41

PRELIMINAEY DEVELOPMENT

ethical character of the Hebrew religion, it is a
fact which is beyond question. From the origin
of this nation in the Abrahamic clan down to the
time of Jesus, through all the vicissitudes of its
experiences, in its conflicts with other groups, and
in the development of its social organization,
righteousness was the supreme interest of all its
chief men.

Strictly speaking, the Jewish race was not
more religious than other ancient peoples, and
their religion was of the general type which al-
ways prevailed among ancient people, — that is, it
was a group religion. Their great peculiarity was
that they blended ethics and religion as no other
contemporary people did. They conceived of God
as personal and ethical in the fullest sense of
both words. Personality, holiness, righteousness,
were His supreme characteristics. And holiness
and righteousness were not merely His personal
qualities; they were the qualities which He de-
manded in His worshippers. His goodness was
not of the negative type ; but was positive and ag-
gressive, and could be satisfied mth nothing less
than a righteous universe. It was for righteous-
ness and holiness that He primarily cared.

TEis people also grasped mth extraordinary
clearness the unity of God. After the most lib-
eral concessions are made to those who insist that
there are evidences in Hebrew literature of an
original belief in a plurality of divinities, the fact
remains that within the period in which that lit-

42

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

erature was produced the unity of God was a
prime article of faith. If at times there are ex-
pressions which seem to imply an admission of
the reality of the gods of other groups, the latter
are always represented as beings of a lower order
than the true God of the Hebrews ; and the falsity
and nothingness of those alien gods is so often
declared as to leave it doubtful whether their
reality is intended to be admitted anywhere. At
any rate, it is beyond question that the world owes
to this people the truly grand conception of one
God, personal, spiritual, ethical, the original
Cause and the Supreme Ruler of the universe,
who is profoundly interested in the ethical char-
acter of His worshippers as being the highest good
to which men can attain and the condition of all
other real blessings. Let one account for this
conception of the divine character as he may, re-
garding it as an evolution out of the social ex-
perience of the Jews or as revealed to them by
divine inspiration, the sociological consequence
remains the same, and constitutes the particular
interest of this discussion ; and its importance can
hardly be overestimated.

The natural process of individualizing the
units of the social group, through the expansion
of the group, the complication of its organization
and the diversification of its social interests was
not hindered but furthered by the character of
this religion. The high value which it placed
upon personality and its extraordinary emphasis

43

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

on ethical character stimulated the individualizing
process.

There were striking differences between the
Greek and Hebrew ideals of the perfect social
state. The one was the product of philosophical
speculation; the other sprang from the demands
of the moral sense. The one exalted intellectual
insight, culture; the other, conscience and right-
eousness. The Greek ideal subjected the common
people to the preferred classes, seeing in the latter
alone the dignity of humanity, while the former
had no reason for existence except to relieve real
men of drudgery and thus to afford them an op-
portunity to cultivate and enjoy the true values
of life ; the Hebrew ideal sternly forbade the op-
pression of the weak by the strong as rebellion
against Jehovah, in whose eyes the personality
and rights of the poor man were precious, and
required an equitable distribution of all the values
of life as the fulfillment of religious duty. Of
course, the one ideal was never fully realized in
Greece, nor the other in Israel. But certainly
these two pictures of the ideal society, drawn on
the one hand by the Hellenic philosophers, and
on the other by the Hebrew prophets, are true
exponents of the essential tendencies of the two
civilizations. The one set of men had at the very
center of their universe an impersonal and there-
fore non-ethical principle ; the other, an Almighty
Person, who was profoundly ethical. Starting
from their major premise, the Greek thinkers

44

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

could hardly find their way logically to the conse-
cration of the common man; and it would have
been logical hari-kari for the Hebrew prophets
to reach any other conclusion. The social ideal
of the prophets has never lost its charm, except
for those to whom a religious interpretation of
the world is in itself offensive; but those who
find it objectionable on this account may well ask
themselves whether this noble ideal of social
righteousness, which grew like a lily on the stem
of that religion, can ever be kept alive if severed
from its religious root.

But though the Hebrews had in their religion
an influence which strongly promoted the process
of individualizing the social units, which made the
personality of the common man sacred and in-
violable, and which, therefore, furnished the eth-
ical basis for the organization of humanity into
one brotherhood, they actually failed to accom-
phsh this noble result. As all students of social
history know, their religion did offer a most, vig-
orous resistance to social injustice within the
Hebrew state. The forces that make for political
and economic inequality and oppression found in
that religion the most effective barrier which op-
posed them anywhere in the ancient world. The
lot of the poor and the weak was more tolerable
among the Jews than elsewhere because the poor
and weak were the wards of Jehovah. This
proposition can not be disputed ; and yet the full
social implication of this religion was never de-

45

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

veloped within Israel ; and the cause of this failure
is not far to seek. An outstanding fact of Hebrew
development was the extraordinarily strong
group-consciousness which characterized the race.
And this extreme exclusiveness was closely re-
lated to their religious experience. In order to
maintain in its essential purity the religion which
was by far the most precious asset of their civili-
zation, it was necessary for them to be kept from
too free and frequent commerce with other
groups. Intermingling with other peoples led
time and again to religious apostasy and the cor-
ruption of morals. The relaxation of their ex-
clusiveness, under the conditions of life that then
prevailed, would certainly have led to the for-
feiture of their social mission, which was to de-
velop a religion that had in it the spiritual and
ethical principles on the basis of which humanity
could ultimately be organized into a universal
brotherhood. Of course, contacts with other
tribes and nations were inevitable, and some
measure of intermingling with them was unavoid-
able. Further investigations may confirm the
hypothesis that the key to the history of the Jew-
ish people was the final amalgamation, after a
long period of friction, of the Hebrew tribes,
which settled in the hill country and developed
a rural civilization, and the Amorites, who re-
tained most of the cities and developed an urban
civilization. But granting this, it still is true
that the Hebrew race resisted more vigorously

46

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

than other ancient peoples the process of inter-
mingling and blending with other groups, and
that the motive of that resistance was their
sense of the extraordinary value of their religion.
A commingling of religious types often results in
religious progress ; but the time was not ripe for
the development of a cosmopolitan religion. A
thorough blend of the Hebrew faith with other
contemporary faiths would ine\'itably have ob-
scured the vital principle in it. The contact be-
tween it and other religions doubtless modified it,
and not always, perhaps, to its disadvantage.
But it was extremely important to prevent amal-
gamation. Hence the necessity, at that time, of
keeping the people who had the germinal prin-
ciples of the universal religion from a too free
commingling with other peoples.

This singular paradox run,s through all their
history and is the secret of the most interesting
and most tragical chapters of that history. That
the principles which in after times were to consti-
tute the inner, spiritual bonds of a universal hu-
man brotherhood should be thoroughly established
and embodied in imperishable literature, the peo-
ple who were the bearers of these treasures must
be disciplined in exclusiveness. This was so
thoroughly done that they came to be in their
relations with other groups the most unbrotherly
of all peoples and the one race which has proved
to be the most difficult to absorb into the general
human stock. They did not perceive with respect

47

PEELIMINAEY DEVELOPMENT

to other races the social implications that were
involved in the spiritual and ethical heart of their
religion. In moments of high inspiration the
scales fell, or seemed to fall, from the eyes of
their prophets and the glomng prophetic pictures
of the Kingdom of God in its full realization in-
cluded all the world in one righteous and blessed
social order. But the full significance of such
visions lay far beyond the thought of the body
of the people. The fact that they conceived of
their Deity as the one and only true God, infinitely
holy and righteous, implied so clearly that He was
the God of all the earth that the essential uni-
versality of their religion was bound to force itself
upon the national consciousness ; but this univer-
sality had to be harmonized in their thought with
the intense national exclusiveness in which the
maintenance and development of their religion in
its purity had required them to be so thoroughly
trained. The result was a conception of a uni-
versal kingdom of God within which the Jews en-
joyed special privileges as the favoured people of
Jehovah. The fatal flaw of racial aristocracy
proved to be for this ideal the ^^fly in the oint-
ment. *' Thus the social development of the He-
brews ended, like that of the Greeks, in a *^ blind
alley.''

Another influence doubtless contributed to this
result. With the Jews, as with all peoples, re-
ligion needed to be clothed in elaborate ritual and
ceremony in order to adapt it to the modes of

48

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

thought and feeling characteristic of the earlier
stages of development. But one wonders that in
the maturity of the race they clung with such
tenacity, to the mere husk of rehgious form and
that it was so extremely difficult to bring them
to appreciate the ethical and spiritual kernel
which the husk was not longer needed to protect.
Herein lay the tragedy of the race. Of course,
it may be said in explanation that there always
is a natural tendency for the external and formal
to flourish at the expense of the essential and
spiritual, in religion as in all other spheres of
life; but this fact does not seem sufficient to ex-
plain the exceptional religious history of the He-
brews. They had wrapped up in the forms of
their religion a priceless spiritual treasure.
When the time came to take away the rag of
ritual that the treasure itself in all its richness
might be enjoyed, the nation, as a nation, clung to
the rag and surrendered the treasure to other
peoples who had a higher appreciation of its
value. Thus the Jews, with the exception of a
remnant, disregarded the essential meaning of
their religion; and other races threw away their
religions that they might take the treasure which
the Jews had long borne but now in their folly
cast from them. Here is a most remarkable fact.
Probably it can be fully accounted for only on
the ground that the excessive group-exclusiveness
of the Jews emphasized the natural tendency to
formalism. The formal element of their religion

49

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

harmonized excellently with this exclusiveness ;
the spiritual element was essentially antagonistic
to it. Hence the exceptional energy with which
they reacted against the latter and adhered to the
former.

A strange history it was ! A people was com-
missioned to he the bearers of the great princi-
ples of ethical religion, which, in its very nature,
tended to universal brotherhood. That they
might not lose this treasure by premature inter-
mingling with other peoples it was necessary that
they should maintain and cultivate the ancient
group exclusiveness, which among other races
was all the while becoming more lax. This ex-
clusiveness strengthened the tendency toward
formalism and caused them to reject with ve-
hemence the full disclosure of the social impli-
cations of their spiritual principles; while the
other peoples, who had been growing somewhat
broader in their group consciousness, accepted
these discarded principles and took up the age-
long task of organizing an ethical brotherhood
of mankind.

We turn now to consider the part played by
the Romans in the social development of the an-
cient world. The Greeks elaborated a philosophy
of the world which contributed to the intellectual
life of man certain universal concepts, but in the
attempt to embody these concepts in a science of
society, they laboured under limitations which
they could not overcome. The Hebrews contrib-

50

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

uted certain religious principles which, when
stripped of their ceremonial envelope, were capa-
ble of development into a religion which could
form the spiritual basis for the righteous adjust-
ment of men in a universal organization of man-
kind; but, as noted above, they were almost
wholly unprepared for such a broad application
of their principles.

From the first the Romans exhibited a remark-
able genius for war, conquest, and political or-
ganization. From the city on the Tiber their mili-
tary power expanded practically to the limits of
the world as then known. The neighbouring tribes
of the Italian peninsula were soon brought into
subjection, and the Roman sway extended with
great rapidity and steadiness in all directions until
the upper fringe of Africa on the south, the lands
that stretched indefinitely toward the east, and
the wild regions of Gaul and Britain on the north
and west were brought under control with their
motley populations. Greece and Judea with their
rich intellectual and spiritual treasures were in-
corporated in the great heterogeneous empire.
Among no other ancient people, and hardly among
any people of the modern world, did the processes
of national expansion and of social organization
go on so rapidly. The task of building so many
groups, each with its specific type of political
and mental organization, into one great im-
perial structure was one of the most stupendous
ever undertaken; in fact, it was probably the

51

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

greatest. No modern empire has had difficulties
so great to overcome. Group types were then
more pronounced than now; group antagonism
was more intense. Intercommunication was less
frequent and more difficult; the psychic or spir-
itual forces of cohesion between peoples were
weaker, and the forces of repulsion stronger.
To bring these varied and repellant types into
one organization, to establish and maintain peace-
ful relations among them, nothing would avail
but force. Of common custom there was little;
of common intellectual life there was probably
less; of common religious life there was prac-
tically none. The amalgamating and blending
agencies of the inner life which to-day are knit-
ting together so many peoples of the modern
world were notably absent. Hence it was neces-
sary then to rely more exclusively upon force
as an external bond by which the varied groups
could be held together as a political unity. The
sword was the principal unifjdng power. But as
these dissimilar and repellant races and national-
ities were compacted by force into a unity, the
problem of adjustment was rendered very acute,
and so the Romans were under the necessity of
developing a vast system of laws.

The incorporation of so many national groups
in one political structure also resulted in a great
complexity of social relations ; in the contact with
one another of many different types of men; in
the diversification of all the interests of life ; in

52

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

the more frequent stimulation of the powers of
thought and will. It reacted, therefore, power-
fully upon the character of the social units. By a
natural law, it inevitably resulted in the higher
average development of individuality in the' peo-
ple. As before noted, the progressive organiza-
tion of society always has for its corollary the
progressive development of individuality in men ;
and as a result, personality counts for more.
This process went on in Roman as rapidly per-
haps as in Greek or Hebrew life, notwithstand-
ing the fact that the more militant habits of
the Roman people doubtless operated as a very
strong check upon it. Unquestionably military
life tends to retard the development of individu-
ality for obvious reasons; but at the same time
the military success of the Romans resulted in
the subjugation and incorporation of many alien
groups, and consequently in making the social life
more varied and stimulating, and this tended to
individualize men more rapidly. One can trace
the counteraction of these two tendencies through-
out Roman history. The warlike habits of the
people retarded the development of individuality,
while the vast complication and diversification of
the social life resulting from their conquests pro-
moted it.

The net result was that the Romans advanced
a good way toward the appreciation of the dig-
nity of the individual personality. But in their
civilization there were fatal defects which made it

53

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

impossible for the social process to go on to the
organization of humanity into a universal brother-
hood based upon the recognition of the essential
worth of a man as such. They came to have a
high appreciation of the dignity of the Roman
citizen, but his dignity consisted in his Roman
citizenship, not in liis simple humanity. With the
exception of India, there has not been perhaps
among any people a sharper separation of men
into two classes — those who had dignity, rights
and privileges, and those who had none. The
former consisted of Roman citizens ; the latter, of
all those who had not been by birth or otherwise
included in this inner circle of the preferred
minority. The great masses of men were of no
worth, except as the subjects and servants of those
who had a title to the real values of life. The
Romans effected an organization of humanity
which was well-nigh universal, but it was based
upon force; it did not recognize the inherent
worth of simple humanity; it was very largely
destitute of any inner bond of cohesion; it was
not animated by an ethical or spiritual principle
which bound men together in a fraternity of souls.
It was a corpus of humanity, but had little life
within. It did not place the crown upon per-
sonality per se, nor attribute to every human be-
ing the right to all the privileges of personality.
Nevertheless, this Roman organization of life
performed a great function in the development

54

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

of a fraternal organization of mankind. It
brought all the variant and antagonistic groups
of the ancient world into one political structure
and compelled them to live in peaceful communi-
cation with one another. The ancient repulsions
were of necessity modified. The Romans were
wise enough to respect the national integrity of
these conquered peoples so far as it was con-
sistent with the domination of Rome and with
the efficiency of the central administration. But
the incorporation of them in one empire and the
world-wide intercommunication which resulted in-
evitably broke down, or if it did not break down,
broke through the barriers wliich separted them.
The empire was like a great caldron into which
the relatively isolated groups of the primeval
world were thrown and mixed. Unlike customs
were brought face to face with one another; re-
ligions of different types stood side by side. For-
merly people had regarded the social order in
which they lived as the normal order of the uni-
verse itself. Now they were compelled to see in
the systems with which they were connected only
provincial types. They were compelled to ques-
tion, to doubt, to discriminate. In this way, vari-
ous social orders were brought together into a
synthesis which could hardly fail to disintegrate
them. Only those which were the most thoroughly
crystallized could offer any effectual resistance to
the process of disintegration, and none could

55

PRELIMINAEY DEVELOPMENT

maintain itself absolutely intact. A truly cos-
mopolitan life grew up. The primitive order of
things was gone. There took place a general dis-
solution of customs and decadence of religions.
The ancient systems of religion had all grown
up in adaptation to the needs of the ancient order,
which was no more. They were no longer suit-
able; they did not meet the needs of men any
longer; religious skepticism prevailed. There
was no religion which could serve as a spiritual
bond of union, a principle of social cohesion.

Ethical codes were similarly affected. These
codes were constituent factors of the organized
group-life which was undergoing disintegration;
and thus not only religious skepticism, but moral
confusion and indifferentism prevailed. At the
very time when practically all the social groups
of the world then known had been organized into
one political structure, the whole organization of
the inner life of society was dissolved; and
the latter process was the natural result of the
former.

There had thus been effected an objective or
external organization of the human world, the
cohesive principle of which was force. Mankind
waited for and vaguely expected the reorganiza-
tion of the inner life to correspond with the new
situation. And those whose hearts and con-
sciences were not put to sleep mth the narcotic
of skeptical indifference sighed and sought for a

56

PRELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

new light which could bring back to men the sense
of moral obligation and spiritual reality. At
Rome force ruled, while there arose a mighty tide
of sensuality and brutality, and Roman emperors
whose lives were little above the beastly were
elevated after their death to the dignity of gods ;
at Jerusalem there was frigid formalism after a
long silence of the prophetic voice, while the Jew
wandered through the world a materialistic trader
and despised alien ; at Athens, pliilosophy was in
decline and organized into sects, and morality was
decadent, while the degenerate posterity of the
great age of Plato and Aristotle were dabbling
in Oriental occultism and bringing many uncanny
and unclean superstitions from the East to the
capital of the world.

Scattered throughout this spiritually bankrupt
world were many earnest souls who were deeply
sensible of the general poverty of the inner life,
but whose faith in the spiritual meaning of the
world failed not, and whose senses were ever
alert to catch the first signs betokening the dawn
of a better day — ' ' the day-spring from on high, ' '
— for which they hoped. Was it not of these
that the great Teacher spoke when He said,
*^ Blessed are the poor in spirit. . . . Blessed
are they that hunger and thirst after righteous-
ness''? For it was just at this juncture in the
social development of mankind that there ap-
peared on the banks of the Jordan a shaggy

57

PEELIMINARY DEVELOPMENT

prophet, announcing the coming of a new move-
ment; and soon there was heard on the hillsides
of Galilee and Judea a voice declaring in tones
of sweetness and power that the Kingdom of
God had come, — a voice whose tones, without los-
ing any of their sweetness, have grown in power
until they fill the whole world and are shaking the
hearts of all its people.

58

PART I
FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES

CHAPTER I

THE KINGDOM OF GOD, A SOCIAL CONCEPT

We have seen that when Jesus came there ex-
isted a great social order, the Eoman Empire,
organized on the basis of force. It was the cre-
ation of a people who were pre-eminently prac-
tical, who never seriously concerned themselves
with social ideals, being too busily engaged in
organizing and administering a system of society
under the sway of very commonplace motives to
devote much time to either the philosophy or
the ethics of the process in which they were en-
gaged. But there were extant three great ideals
of the social order.

The Greek ideal had been most thoroughly
formulated by Plato, to which reference was made
in the foregoing chapter. But the Platonic ideal
was no longer regnant in social thought. The
most important philosophical ideal of society cur-
rent in the time of Jesus was that of the Stoics.
This school of thinkers represented a noble effort
of the human reason to solve the problem of in-
dividual and social life in an age of disintegra-
tion and confusion. *^They set up a social ideal
which claimed for all men moral freedom and
equality and the possibiUty of living in a state
of communistic freedom from suffering, in the per-

61

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

fection of moral disposition without law, force,
war, or the state/' This recognition of essential
equality was based upon the fact that all men
shared in the Universal Reason. The realization
of this ideal, however, was not to be hoped for.
It was thought by the Stoics to belong to the
golden primitive age, and to be lost without hope
of return. They were social pessimists. To
realize their ideal in a social order it would be
necessary, they supposed, to undo all the results
of history and begin the world over again. Men
might, as individuals, or in private circles, attain
to this perfection; but society, while its evil
tendencies and follies might be individually re-
sisted, was beyond redemption. This system of
thought appealed to a limited circle of consci-
entious philosophically-minded people, but was
wholly ineffective beyond that narrow group.

The Hebrew ideal of that time was less defi-
nitely formulated than the Platonic or the Stoic.
The Kingdom of God was presented in glowing
colours and magnificent imagery by the prophets.
The words with which they described it throbbed
with moral and spiritual passion. But the out-
lines of this social order in which the righteous
reign of Jehovah over the world was to be
realized were not clearly drawn. Jerusalem was
its center and it included the ends of the earth;
it was filled with the glory and peace of Jehovah's
presence ; in it ^ ^ the swords had been beaten into
plowshares" and ^^the trees of the field clapped

62

THE KINGDOM—A SOCIAL CONCEPT

their hands for joy/^ The splendid poetry of it
thrills the heart, but it cannot be subjected to
critical analysis. This very defect is doubtless
a virtue and shows its superiority to the ideal
of Plato or that of the Stoics. It may be less
satisfying to the intellect than they, but its appeal
to the emtions makes it a more effective social
dynamic. This somewhat nebulous ideal, how-
ever, took definite shape in the popular mind as a
political world-order with Jerusalem as its capital
and the Jews as a preferred and ruling class ; and
tliis was the actually current ideal when Jesus
came. This Jewish phrase, **The Kingdom of
God," was often on the lips of Jesus. He made
it the most general concept of His teaching and
put into it a new content of meaning. To trace
the general outline of that meaning is the object
of this chapter.

Let us ask first. Did Jesus think of the King-
dom as a subjective state of the soul or as an
objective social order? The answer must be,
both. Times and conditions may lead students
of His teaching to put the emphasis sometimes
on one and sometimes upon the other phase of
His great ideal; but exclusive emphasis upon
either always obscures the beauty and power of
the great conception; and the positive rejection
of either amounts to a downright perversion of
His teaching and results in a fatal crippling of
Christianity.

The primary principle of the Kingdom is the
63

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

subordination of the human will to the will of
God; though the word *^ subordination'* does not
fully express the idea. It is rather a union of the
human will with the divine ; it is the human will
freely accepting the divine will. There is no
suggestion of restraint or coercion about the act.
It is surrender; but it is surrender not to a su-
perior force, but to a superior, or rather the
supreme, moral excellence, which is perceived and
appreciated. The act is, therefore, rational and
free — the expression of the real personality of
the man. In a word, though not in the meta-
physical sense of the word, the will of the man
and the will of God become one; but this moral
identity results from the change of the human
will. Ideally, the Kingdom of God as a subjective
state means the complete conformity of the inner
life to the character of God; the bringing of the
thoughts and the intents of the heart, the affec-
tions, the purposes, the ideals, the whole volun-
tary nature — including impulses, aims, and de-
cisions— not into subjection to, but rather into
harmony mth the divine life.

But the incorporation, so to speak, of the will
of God in the wills of individual men means, of
course, the conformity of the actions of men to
the will of God. If all the interests, purposes and
ideals of a man are inspired by the mil of God,
then all the actions of the man which have any
moral significance will be expressions of that will ;
and all actions which grow out of or affect the

64

THE KINGDOM— A SOCIAL CONCEPT

relations of men one to another have moral sig-
nificance. The Kingdom of God, therefore, be-
comes external — objectifies itself, so to speak — in
all our social relations, and is of necessity em-
bodied in a social order exactly as far and as
fast as it is realized internally in individual men.
To try to separate the inner lives of men from
the social order in which they live is as foolish
and disastrous as to try to separate the roots of
a tree from its trunk and branches. Such a sep-
aration may be effected in the case of a tree, but
will certainly result in the death of the trunk and
branches, and probably in the death of the roots.
To separate the inner lives of individuals from
the social order is really impossible. But the
very attempt may be extremely hurtful. The con-
cave and convex surfaces of a hollow sphere are
no more inseparably related and invariably pro-
portioned to one another than the inner indi-
vidual and outer social spheres of human life.
The inner life and the social order act and react
upon one another always and inevitably.

We must conclude, then, that the Kingdom of
God is also a social order — a system of human
relations, the organic principle of which is the
will of God. That it was such in the thought of
Jesus there is abundant evidence, besides the fact
just noted that a social meaning is necessarily
involved in the conception of it as a subjective
spiritual state. In the first place, its social sig-
nificance may be inferred from the use Jesus

65

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

made of the phrase that was current in Jewish
speech and literature. In the mind of the Jew
the Kingdom of God meant a definite social order,
and none the less so because he expected it to be
estabhshed by a catastrophic judgment of God
through the agency of a heaven-sent Messiah.
Common sense forbids us to assume that, in
adopting and using the phrase freely, Jesus
emptied it of all social reference. He gave it a
new meaning; but it is not probable that He
would have adopted it if He had not retained
some elements of the meaning which currently
attached to it. He was a teacher; and it would
not have been good pedagogj^ to take a phrase
which clearly denoted a social concept and use it
to express a non-social concept. That would have
been to cut the line of communication between
His mind and the minds of His hearers and
to provoke misunderstanding deliberately. His
method was to take current ideas and expand,
deepen, spiritualize their meaning and thus lead
His hearers to higher truth.

If He had used the phrase to indicate simply
and only a state of soul of the individual He
would not only have rendered it unnecessarily
difficult for His contemporaries to understand
Him, but would also have broken the continuity
of His teaching with the teaching of the prophets,
which we know He did not intend to do. However
vague may be the meaning of the glowing word-
pictures which Isaiah and others threw upon the

66

THE KINGDOM— A SOCIAL CONCEPT

canvas of the future, one cannot read them with-
out the impression that they were the indefinite
portrayals of a glorious state of society ; and the
highly mystical language of Ezekiel and Daniel
cannot possibly be given any other significance.
Jesus came declaring that He was carrying to
fulfillment the teaching of the prophets; which
He could not have been doing if by this great
phrase, **The Kingdom of God,'' He had meant
only an inward condition of the individual soul
and not a social order at all.

Furthermore, He implied that it meant a social
order, an organized system of human relations,
when fie spoke of entrance into the Kingdom.
True, one may speak metaphorically of an en-
trance into a purely subjective state; but that is
only to use a metaphor, and it can hardly be
maintained that Jesus was using this metaphor
when He said to His disciples: ** Whosoever,
therefore, shall break one of these least command-
ments and shall teach men so shall be called the
least in the Kingdom of Heaven; but whosoever
shall do and teach them, the same shall be called
great in the Kingdom of Heaven. For I say unto
you, except your righteousness shall exceed the
righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, ye
shall in no case enter into the Kingdom of
Heaven." Again, when He teaches His disciples
to pray, * * Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done in
earth as it is in heaven, * ' has He in mind nothing
more than a subjective state of the individual?

67

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

Much of His teaching is wholly inconsistent with
this narrower interpretation of the phrase. For
instance, how can the parable of the tares and His
explanation of it, and the parable of the net be con-
strued without putting into them a broad social
meaning? It may be plausible to contend that
these parables are intended to illustrate certain
social processes which take place in this world and
culminate in a blessed social order in the next.
Indeed, it cannot be denied that Jesus contem-
plated as the final issue of the processes of the
Kingdom in this temporal sphere an eternal, heav-
enly state of blessedness ; but it is equally evident
that that heavenly life is social, and that true
righteousness consists in transforming this
earthly order into its likeness.

Further argument need not now be pursued.
There may be some to-day who fear that emphasis
upon the social implications of the Kingdom is
about to divert attention from its subjective mean-
ing,— a danger which needs to be guarded against ;
but there are few now who will undertake to
maintain that the Kingdom does not signify a
social order in some real sense of the term, ex-
cept certain critics of the ethics of Jesus, who
contend that there is in His teaching no concep-
tion of and no doctrine concerning society as an
organic whole, and who see in this alleged defect
the evidence that His ideal is no longer suited to
the needs of the world and can not be accepted
as a guide in the solution of the social problems

68

THE KINGDOM— A SOCIAL CONCEPT

of this age. Later on these criticisms will be
discussed more in detail; at present more need
not be said in support of the proposition that the
scheme of Jesus was not an exclusively individ-
ualistic one, but included a thorough reorganiza-
tion of the social system.

Evidently the Kingdom in His thought is a
growth, a development, the unfolding of a prin-
ciple of life, in its subjective as well as in its
objective phases. There is, indeed, no aspect of
the thinking of Jesus more characteristic than
this. Again and again does He emphasize the
principle of development. It is somewhat sur-
prising, in fact, to see how large a place in His
thinking this great principle has, which is so reg-
nant and so fruitful in modern thought. To feel
this, one has but to recall the parables of the mus-
tard seed and of the leaven, which illustrate by
natural processes both the subjective and objec-
tive phases of the Kingdom's development. The
process of organizing a character or a society
in conformity to the will of God takes place by
a general law that prevails throughout the realm
of nature, which is also a manifestation of the
divine thought. Character must grow as a tree
grows; social influences must spread as the fer-
mentation of the leaven spreads.

There are, however, certain expressions of his
which indicate that He contemplated a sudden
apocalyptic realization of the Kingdom,^ There

^Matthew, 24th chapter, and corresponding passages in Mark
and Luke. gO

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

has been much disagreement as to what these
utterances mean, and a variety of interpretations
have been proposed and supported by elaborate
arguments. Each interpretation is beset with
difficulty. Some have imagined that these pas-
sages represent later additions or interpolations,
and that Jesus did not speak these words or any
like them; but no criticism can eliminate them
from the record. The discourse concerning the
Parousia is found in Mark and in the hypothetical
document assumed by critics to have been per-
haps the earliest record of the teacliing of Jesus
and to have been embodied in the Gospels of Mat-
thew and Luke. If the hypothesis of this school
of critics be true, tliis document probably con-
stituted the most nearly contemporary and, pre-
sumably, the most authentic account of what Jesus
said. So that, from the standpoint of Biblical
criticism, conservative or radical, this discourse
must be accepted. Some have thought that in
using these expressions He was merely accommo-
dating Himself to the modes of thought of His
time; while others have contended that He was
a genuine child of His age, and Himself conceived
of the future after the manner of the apocalyptics
of that day. Still others have assumed that these
reports of His words are highly colored by the
current Messianic notions of His day, which Jesus
Himself did not share ; and therefore regard them
as inaccurate and exaggerated accounts of what
He said. This is an a priori assumption based

70

THE KINGDOM— A SOCIAL CONCEPT

upon the fact that it seems incredible to these
critics that a mind so characteristically sane and
balanced as that of Jesus should conceive of the
coming of the Elngdom in these terms.

It would be bold to undertake to solve the
problem. The following suggestions are offered
in the hope that they may at least help in har-
monizing those passages in whicb He seems to
expect a sudden and catastrophic coming of the
Kingdom with those in which He certainly teaches
the realization of the Kingdom by a process of
gradual development. Does not social evolution
in general actually proceed in both ways? In
every great social movement there is a period,
which is usually proportionate in length to the
depth and extent of the movement, during which
social forces are at work silently and unobtru-
sively. The processes going on escape observa-
tion, to a large extent, during decades or even
centuries and ages. Subtle changes are taking
place in the fundamental conditions of social life,
but so gradually that the attention of men is not
focused upon them. Mental attitudes and points
of \iew are altered. Old ideas slowly fade out in
the hearts of the people, and new ones as slowly
grow up. While these mental changes are in
process the traditional organization of society in
its main outline persists. Institutions formed
and crystallized in one period have a way of out-
living the conditions in which they took shape;
they have a sort of inertia and for a long time

71

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

offer effective resistance to the accumulating
pressure of the forces that are opposed to them.
But the increasing pressure makes itself felt more
and more sensibly; the movement which at first
was hardly noticeable, which progressed so slowly
because it was so weak and the obstruction so
strong, gathers momentum. The ratio of power
as between the static and dynamic forces con-
stantly changes. The dynamic forces grow in
volume and in might as the obstructing institu-
tions are undermined and weakened. Sooner or
later effective resistance is no longer possible ; it
begins to give way, and then the old institutions
tumble in a confused mass of ruins, and chaos
seems to reign. It is like the giving way of a dam
before an accumulating mass of water. Thus
sot3ial progress takes place by a process of grad-
ual, subtle, accumulative change which is punctu-
ated at intervals by catastrophic upheavals in
which old and defunct social systems are over-
thrown. A cursory reading of history makes this
evident. Was this not exemplified in the destruc-
tion of Jerusalem, in the downfall of the Roman
Empire, in the French Revolution, the Puritan
Revolution in England, the American Revolution
of 1776, and the yet greater one of 18611 Indeed,
the examples of this method of social progress
almost make up the history of the world.

Now, may not this general law of social de-
velopment be the principle wliich harmonizes
these apparently contradictory teachings of Jesus

72

THE KINGDOM— A SOCIAL CONCEPT

concerning the progress of the Ivingdom? As
He forecasted the evolution of the great enterprise
He was organizing, may He not have seen and
thus interpreted a series of gradual movements,
each reaching its culmination in a sort of cata-
clysm and together constituting the successive
stages of a vast world-transforming process which
would come to its final climax in a universal re-
generation of human society! Since He Himself
declared that His knowledge of the future had its
limitations, it is not necessary, or indeed permis-
sible, for us to suppose that this historical de-
velopment lay like a detailed chart of the future
in His mind. The great series of events in which
the movement He initiated was to be worked out
might well have seemed foreshortened in the per-
spective in which He viewed it, and the final issue
have appeared to be much closer at hand than it
has proved to be in the unfolding of time ; but this
would in no way affect the essential truth of His
representation.

This will appear to many an unsatisfactory
solution of this difficulty; but it does not seem
an impossible one, and it would indicate that the
thought of Jesus, even though conceived in the
forms of the highly-wrought Oriental imagery of
the apocalyptics, ran parallel with the natural
processes of the world. At any rate, it makes
intelligible and consistent the apparently contra-
dictory ideas of the coming of the Kingdom at-
tributed to Jesus.

73

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

As the process of social evolution above out-
lined is examined, it becomes obvious that it
has two distinct phases. On the one hand,
there is the gradual expansion of the recon-
structing and transforming forces; on the other,
the relatively sudden and catastrophic overthrow
of the institutions that resist this expansion. A
highly religious spirit contemplating this histor-
ical process would, as a matter of course, inter-
pret it as a divine-human drama; would see,
especially in every great crisis, the emergence
into visible action of the great spiritual powers
that constitute the ultimate causes of all phe-
nomena; and, in the sudden, chaotic and terrible
collapse of ancient institutions, their destruction
by di\T.ne judgment. If the modern scientific habit
of mind no longer perceives the activity of divine
powers in historical processes, that by no means
indicates that there is no such activity. It is a
naive and gratuitous assumption of the modern
mind that its mode of conceiving the world is final
and adequate ; but there is no real reason to sup-
pose that it may not be a temporary and passing
one, destined in time to go to join in the world
of shadows the large and growing assortment of
partial and discredited world-views wliich had
each ^4ts day and ceased to be."

However, the ideas of Jesus as to the time
and manner of establishing the Kingdom are
matters of only secondary interest in this dis-
cussion. What we are primarily interested in

74

THE KINGDOM— A SOCIAL CONCEPT

is the fact that the setting up of the Kingdom,
however and whenever it occurred, was to take
place here on earth and involved a transforma-
tion of the entire social order.

If our position is correct, it is apparent that
Jesus was very much more than a social re-
former. His program was far more radical and
comprehensive than that of a reformer. We usu-
ally understand by a social reform some needed
readjustment within a given social system; but
Jesus expected to see the entire social order re-
generated by a gradual process, punctuated at
intervals by catastrophic changes. He projected
into the world a great dynamic organizing social
principle, or energy, which was to spread and to
penetrate through and through the social organ-
ism, transforming it from within; so that ulti-
mately all its activities would be performed in
a new spirit, and all its forms changed and
adapted to express the character of the new life
which should animate it. Was the political order
included in the scope of this plan? Yes, but He
did not stop to tinker with political systems ; He
did not consume His precious days in the en-
deavour to substitute one political constitution for
another; He was neither a political philosopher
nor the founder of a new state. Did His under-
taking include the economic system? Yes, but
He was not an economist nor a socialist. The
economic and political structures were to be rad-
ically changed. He planted within the secular

75

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

society a living and expansive principle which
must penetrate and dominate and express itself
through it, and in doing so must fundamentally
transform it; for social forms must be the ex-
pression of the social spirit, though when once
crystallized they can be reshaped only with diffi-
culty. But He instituted no specific political or
economic reforms.

And yet it would be a gross error for us to
conclude that His followers should neglect these
matters. It is ours to make bit-by-bit apphca-
tions of His principles, as the circumstances per-
mit. Only thus can we live in His spirit and
carry forward to fulfillment His comprehensive
program. Because He put forth no concrete
efforts at political and economic reforms, His
timid followers who seek to avoid the incon-
veniences and frictions incident to such efforts,
try to hide their selfish love of ease and popu-
larity behind His example ; but falsely. Because
He limited Himself to laying the deep founda-
tions, which He cemented with His blood, shall
we decline to build the superstructure, stone by
stone, because the toil is arduous? But petty
reforms which aim at nothing more than patch-
ing up an evil social system are far from being
a fulfillment of His program.

Likewise, Jesus was much more than a mere
builder of an ecclesiastical system. The King-
dom is more than a church. However, the King-
dom must inevitably create a church. The new

76

THE KINGDOM— A SOCIAL CONCEPT

brotherhood of believers was constituted in the
midst of an alien and hostile emdronment whose
forms were moulded by an organic principle quite
contrary to that which drew the Christians into
fellowsliip with one -another. The new social
spirit which animated this new association of men
could not therefore express itself through those
alien forms. It must constitute for itself a new
organization through which it could put forth its
energy, by means of which it could maintain and
propagate itself, while it was engaged in the age-
long task of subduing and transforming the entire
social organism. The new social group, whose
aim was to substitute for the old social structure
a new one, needed a fulcrum for the accomplish-
ment of so stupendous a task. The church was
the instrumentality created for this purpose. To
suppose that the whole movement aimed at noth-
ing more than the construction of an ecclesiastical
organization to take the place of the ancient re-
ligious organs of society, while leaving the old
structure of political and economic society intact,
is to fail to grasp its central meaning; and cer-
tainly such a conception of the mission of Chris-
tianity must end in an ecclesiasticism emptied of
all spiritual vitality, and conformed both in spirit
and in organization to the system of secular so-
ciety, which it leaves undisturbed. Nor does it
help the case, but rather makes it worse, for the
church as an organization to claim and acquire
the power to control the political and economic

77

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

functions. This, while it subjects the secular or-
der to the ecclesiastical, ine^dtably results in the
internal assimilation of the latter to the former.
How sad that the history of Christianity should
consist so largely of the story of this perversion !
Both Romanism and Protestantism are guilty,
though the latter in a less degree.

The church is only an instrument for the reali-
zation of the Kingdom. The recreative spiritual
and ethical energy projected into the world by
Jesus originated it as an agency for the accom-
plishment of this task. The church is related to
the Kingdom solely as a means to an end. Wliile
the old non-Christian and largely anti-Christian
social order is undergoing disintegration and a
new order is being fashioned as the expression
of the Christian ideal, the etliical and spiritual
forces which are engaged in this vast enterprise
of destruction and reconstruction need the church
as a basis of operation, a power-plant, a point
of concentration and centre of radiation. The
church, then, is far from being the final objective
in the movement of Jesus. His aim went far be-
yond the establishment of an ecclesiastical organi-
zation in the midst of an alien social order; and
He never contemplated at all the conversion of
the general social order into an ecclesiastical or-
ganization, nor an external subjection of the
former to the latter. The social order which
confronted Him and His disciples was not adapted
to the expression of His spirit ; it was the expres-

78

THE KINGDOM— A SOCIAL CONCEPT

sion of a social spirit which was not only dif-
ferent from, but almost wholly opposed to, His.
And it needed to be reconstituted within and with-
out. Because this was required and while it was
in process, the church was a necessity and will
continue to be until this process is completed.

Perhaps from this point of view we can get
a new conception of a tendency in the religious
life of our time which has caused apprehension
in many earnest souls, and perplexes when it does
not alarm. Onr attention is frequently directed
to the fact that in this age, v/hen tJie spirit of
Jesus seems to be dynamically present in human
society in an exceptional degree, when His ideal
of human relations seems to have an authority
over the hearts of men such as it never had be-
fore, the church seems to be losing prestige and
apparently occupies a smaller place in the af-
fections even of His followers. But is there not
at least a partial explanation of this tendency
which should be neither alarming nor discon-
certing to those who have grasped, however in-
adequately, the full program of Jesus? We owe
too much to the church of Christ ever to find
pleasure in the fact per se that it is losing in
power for any cause ; arid, if the present situation
indicated any decline in the spiritual energy
which created the church and uses it as an in-
strumentality, it surely would afford ample
grounds for the indulgence of a pessimistic mood.
But how far is this the cases If the church is

79

JESUS AND SOCIAL PEOGEESS

simply an instrumentality whose purpose is and
always should be the enthronement of the spirit
and ideals of Jesus in the whole social order, we
ought to be neither alarmed nor surprised that
in proportion as this purpose is accomplished the
sense of the need of the church should relatively
decline. Normally the sense of the value of the
instrument mil relatively decline as the end for
the accomplishment of which it exists approxi-
mates its fulfillment. And surely it does not re-
quire an extravagant optimism to believe that the
whole social order is to-day being influenced and
refashioned by the dynamic power of Christianity
as never before. It certainly seems to many ob-
servers that the fulfillment of the Kingdom is
approaching with extraordinary rapidity; and if
there should occur a relative decline in the sense
of the value and importance of the ecclesiastical
instrument, would it not be an unfortunate mis-
placing of emphasis to interpret such a relative
decline as a collapse of the program of Jesus!
Not long since an earnest and successful pastor
remarked, in a tone of mingled joy and sadness,
that **the Kingdom seems to be coming, but the
church does not.'' If the facts are as he stated,
his sadness was not unnatural, but was it wholly
justified? We cannot in religion guard too care-
fully against the tendency ever present in human
nature to feel that the instrument is an end in
itself, to exalt the institution above its function,
to substitute the means for the end in our aifec-

80

THE KINGDOM— A SOCIAL CONCEPT

tion. Perhaps Christianity has suffered more
from this inversion of values than from any other
cause whatsoever. Certainly the church is not
now in the death-throes and can never disappear
so long as the Kingdom of God is not a fully
realized fact. But the wise friends of the church
would not mourn if it should suifer a relative
decline in importance due to the fact that the
Kingdom was more and more mastering, and ex-
pressing itself through, all the other institutions
of society. We cannot forecast a period of time
when the instrumentality of the church will not
be needed; and, though it may decline in relative
importance, it will not disappear so long as it
has a vital function to perform.

It would, however, be a capital mistake to sup-
pose that the present situation which brings sad-
ness to many hearts is wholly explained by the
foregoing consideration. That consideration cer-
tainly needs to be borne in mind, but it by no
means entirely removes all ground for anxiety.
The decline in the power of the church is espe-
cially notable in the great centers of population,
where the unrighteousness of the present social
order is most acutely felt; and it is due in part
to the fact that the church seems to be but dimly
conscious of its social mission. The church has
an opportunity for wliich there has been no paral-
lel in the past to be influential in bringing all
the economic and political activities of societ}^
under the sway of the motives of the Kingdom,

81

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

but it responds to that opportunity often by posi-
tively declining the undertaking as lying wholly
beyond its mission ; and when it acknowledges the
task as properly belonging to it, its efforts are
sluggish, feeble, hesitating, timid, blundering. It
does not have a clear understanding of its proper
work in the present crisis. It gropes and fumbles
and stumbles as if it were afflicted with a partial
paralysis wliich affects at once its nerve centres
of sight and hearing and locomotion. Never did
it more sorely need a clear understanding of the
nature of the Kingdom and of its function as
an instrument for realizing this ideal of Jesus.
Much of its activity is only remotely or inci-
dentally related, if related at all, to its supreme
task. Many a great church resembles a steam
engine which stands idly upon the rails or thun-
ders up and down the track but draws no train
of cars and is headed for no destination. In in-
numerable cases the trouble seems to be that the
church has unconsciously become an end unto it-
self and has lost, in part if not wholly, the sense
of its purely instrumental relation to the large
program of Jesus. TJie ine^dtable result is a
feebleness and incompetency w^hich invites the
neglect and sometimes the contempt of men, who
thereupon seek other social agencies by which
their ethical enthusiasm may be organized and
directed in the struggle for a righteous adjust-
ment of men to one another.

If misery loves company, however, the church
82

THE KINGDOM— A SOCIAL CONCEPT

may be comforted to find itself in a goodly com-
pany of institutions which are undergoing the
same ordeal of criticism. All the great organs
of society find themselves assailed to-day and
thrown upon the defensive. Monarchy, legisla-
tures, courts of high and low degree, schools, eco-
nomic institutions of every sort, even the family,
are undergoing a searching examination prompted
by a profound discontent. Everywhere voices are
raised — some of them violently hostile in tone —
declaring that in and through these social or-
ganizations men are no longer rightly adjusted.
Some of these institutions are fighting for their
lives; others are making more or less successful
efforts to readapt themselves so as to do their
work more satisfactorily in the changed condi-
tions ; and it is not the church alone which, in some
cases, exhibits a blind reactionary spirit and, in
other cases, gropes confusedly in the midst of a
thicket of uncertainties. There may be a consola-
tion for the church in this reflection, since it
clearly indicates that it is not a sinner above other
institutions. Readaptation is demanded through-
out the whole sphere of organized life; and the
church should be not only consoled but inspired
by the consideration that such a situation is really
a result of the fermentation of the ideals of the
Kingdom in the hearts of the people.

What then, we ask in conclusion, is the true
definition of the Kingdom of God? It is a bold
thing to try to compress the meaning of this great

83

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

phrase into a narrow and rigid formula. Jesus
never attempted a succinct and logical statement
of its meaning, and in not doing so doubtless gave
e^ddence of His exceptional wisdom. The inter-
pretation of it has varied through the ages ac-
cording to variations in individual and collective
experience. Perhaps the experience of all the
ages will be needed in order to make definite to
our limited understanding the full content of its
significance. Its meaning seems to become vaster,
deeper wdth the lapse of time and the accumula-
tion of the social experience of mankind. It has
hung in the heaven of human thought as a great,
someAvhat nebulous but luminous, fascinating, al-
luring ideal, hovering above the border-line which
separates the present world-order from that which
lies beyond; inspiring and attracting earnest
souls, drawing them on to the ceaseless struggle
for righteousness and sustaining them in the
arduous conflict. To pack the meaning of this
great phrase into a single sentence is like trying
to focus all the light that floods the spaces of the
sky upon one tiny spot. But, nevertheless, it is
our duty to make its meaning as definite to our
minds as we can. And certainly whatever else
may be included in that meaning, it must signify
a social order, a system of human relations y pro-
gressively realized, in which the will of God is
the formative principle and all the functions of
which are organized and operated for the purpose
of helping all msn to realize the spiritual possi-

84

THE KINGDOM— A SOCIAL CONCEPT

hilities of hiirnanity. Slowly, as measured by the
impatience of earnest souls, the world moves
toward that far-off goal, as our sun with its
retinue of planets is drawn by the persistent force
of gravitation toward a point in the distant con-
stellation of the Pleiades. But the important fact
is that the movement goes on, and the supreme
duty of every man is to help it forward; and at
the present hour there is no more effective help
to be given than to hasten the subjugation of all
the political and economic activities of society to
the law of ser^dce, which is the will of God.

85

CHAPITER II

THE KINGDOM AND THE WORLD

The term ** world" bears several important
meanings, apart from its use to denote the tem-
poral order as distinguished from the eternal.
First, it means the mass of men — humanity con-
ceived as an aggregation of individuals. In this
sense the world is the object of God's love, as in
the famous passage, **God so loved the world,''
etc. In another use it means a social order — men
in their relations mth one another, as dominated
by certain ideals, customs, modes of life. It is
a more or less clearly defined social concept. For
instance, when Jesus speaks of His disciples as
those whom the Father had given Him "out of
the world;" or when He says of them, "They
are not of the world as I am not of the world,"
it is clear that He is using the word with some-
thing of a distinct social connotation. The same
meaning is perhaps even more distinct when, ad-
dressing His disciples. He says, "If the world
hate you, ye know it hated me before it hated you.
If ye were of the world the world would love
its own, but because ye are not of the world but I
have chosen you out of tlie world, therefore the
world hateth you." The same use of the word
occurs in John's Epistles. It signifies the tem-

86

THE KINGDOM AND THE WORLD

poral order as distinguished from the eternal, but
the temporal order is thought of as social in char-
acter in a very definite way. The word is used
again with a quite indefinite or ambiguous mean-
ing. For example, * * the field is the world. ' ' Here
it evidently might well be taken in either of the
senses just noted. It is with the second meaning
that the word, world, mil be used in this chapter.
It is an interesting fact that among those who
report the words and works of Jesus it seems to
be John who, more than others, uses this word
with this signification. How can this be accounted
for? It is foreign to the purpose of this book to
enter into the critical questions as to the dates
and authorship of the books of the Bible. But
it seems to be a well established fact that the
Gospel of John was written at a later date than
the Synoptics. When this Gospel was written the
infant church had accumulated a considerable ex-
perience. In the propagation of the new religion
they had had numerous confhcts with the organ-
ized social forces of that time, and had suffered
much. Out of this experience there had grown
up an increasingly clear consciousness of those
organized forces as constituting an evil social
order. Although such a consciousness did not
originate in that experience, it was greatly empha-
sized and made more vi^dd and definite thereby.
The author of the Fourth Gospel, writing after
this consciousness of the world as an evil social
order had been clarified by experience, would

87

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

naturally recall sncli a use of tlie term by Jesus ;
or, on the hypothesis that this Gospel is not a
verbatim report of the teaching of Jesus, but
rather an interpretation of it with the particular
purpose of establishing His divinity, it seems cer-
tain that the term is used here to express an idea
that was present in that teaching. At any rate,
such a use of the word did grow more frequent
and definite in the later New Testament litera-
ture; and it seems eminently probable that its
increasingly definite use in this sense grew out
of the experience of the Christians.

At first one would expect that this growing
consciousness of the world as an evil social order
would lead the Christians to emphasize the mean-
ing of the Kingdom as a redeemed social order
standing in contrast over against the world. But
in John's Gospel this aspect of the Kingdom
seems, contrary to expectations, to receive less
emphasis than in the Synoptics; and some stu-
dents have even maintained that the Kingdom-
idea is entirely absent from John's thought. This
is an error, as we shall see ; but it is a fact that
he does not clearly develop in this Gospel what
we may call the objective social implications of
the Kinsrdom. Whv is this ? When we think more
deeply on the question, the reason appears. The
objective social structure — the political and eco-
nomic organs of society — were under the domina-
tion of a spirit quite opposed to the spirit of the
new Christian movement. The customs and ideals

88

THE KINGDOM AND THE WORLD

of the world, so opposed to the life-principles of
the Kingdom, were acting through those institu-
tions and using them as instruments to annihilate
the little group that had been gathered around
Jesus. Jesus Himself, from whom they drew
their inspiration, had passed into the Unseen and
was with them in their struggle only as an in-
visible presence. They stood off thus in sharp
and irreconcilable opposition not only to the
world-spirit, but also to the entire social order,
all the functions of which were in the service of
that hostile spirit. Their strength laj^ wholly in
their spiritual communion with the invisible Lord
and their fellowsliip mth one another through
Him. Is it any wonder that John, who, of all the
New Testament writers, with the possible excep-
tion of Paul, was best fitted by nature to appre-
ciate the inner or subjective side of Christian ex-
perience and was writing in the midst of the
conditions just described, should dwell chiefly
upon the spiritual union of Christians with the
Lord and with one another! His emphasis on
the Kingdom as a subjective state and as a purely
spiritual organization was not only natural; it
was of the greatest practical utility for the prog-
ress of the Kingdom at that particular juncture.
Only thus could the struggling band of disciples
be strengthened and heartened for their great
struggle to wrest from the world-spirit the con-
trol of the social instruments through which the
collective life must express itself— the political

89

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

and economic organization of society. It was not
only indispensable then to emphasize the sub-
jective and purely spiritual aspects of the King-
dom; it always will be, for the Kingdom of God
in its full realization ^ill be, certainly in one of
its most important aspects, the working through
a transformed social order of the redeemed spir-
itual life of men.

It is a mistake, however, to claim that John
was wholly without perception or appreciation of
the social implications of the Kingdom. If he was
conscious of the world as an evil social order, he
also looked to the time when that order was to
be overthrown. In one of the notable passages
of his Gospel, he reports Jesus thus: **When he
[the Spirit of Truth] is come, he mil reprove
the world of sin and of righteousness and of judg-
ment ; of sin, because they believe not on me ; of
righteousness, because I go to the Father and ye
see me no more ; of judgment, because the Prince
of this world is judged. " Again he reports Jesus
as exclaiming while under the very shadow of the
cross, *^Be of good cheer, I have overcome the
world." It is only necessary to get the right
angle of vision to see in these words a forecast
of the disappearance of the unrighteous social
order of the world, and the establishment of the
Kingdom in its stead. Or, turn to Ms Epistles
and you find these words: ^^I^ove not the world,
neither the things that are in the world. If any
man love the world, the love of the Father is not

90

THE KINGDOM AND THE WOELD

in him. For all that is in the world, the lust
of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the pride
of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world.
And the world passeth away and the lust thereof.
But he that doeth the mil of God abideth for-
ever.'' Is it not clear that in this passage the
^^ world" means not this terrestrial ball with its
mass of material things, but a system of life which
is shot through and through ^yit]l sensuality and
l^ride — an excellent description, in fact, of the
social life of the age in which John wrote ? And
is it not clear that he foresees its end? There
is, to be sure, no clear indication as to when or
where or how tliis overthrow of the social order
in which sensuality and pride reign is to take
place; but its passing away is clearly foretold.

However, as already stated, it was the sub-
jective, inward aspect of the Kingdom as a spir-
itual union of Christians with one another and
with God, which is explicit in this Gospel, while
its objective social aspect is rather intimated
than expressed.

We should be stepping beyond the limitations
set for this discussion to enter into a considera-
tion of the social implications of Paul's doctrine;
but it has been so frequently asserted of late that
Paul diverted the Christian movement from the
social aims of Jesus, that some words as to that
question may not be out of place in this connec-
tion. In Paul's writing is observable the same
increasing consciousness of the world as a definite

91

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGKESS

social order which has just been noted in the
Fourth Gospel, and the same alleged failure to
develop the social meaning of the Kingdom. On
the contrary, so it is said, he devoted himself to
the organization of churches and the elaboration
of theological doctrine, and so converted Chris-
tianity from a social propaganda into a dogmatic
ecclesiasticism. This is to make a whole error
of a fragmentary truth. True, Paul devoted his
energies to evangelization, to the organization of
the Christian communities into churches and the
intellectual correlation of Christianity with the
previous religious experience of mankind. But
in view of the situation then existing, these were
exactly the first and necessary steps to take in
the propagation of the Eangdom as a movement
which was ultimately to transform society. Only
thus could it be made a practical and effective
factor in the organized life of mankind. Could
the widely separated groups of early Christians,
who were extremely few in numbers and weak in
influence, without definite organization and with-
out any clear comprehension of the intellectual
content of their religion, have made any headway
against the vast intellectual and social system of
Grseco-Eoman life wliich it was their mission to
penetrate and transform with the principles of
the gospel? Those who think so should tell us
how it could have been done. The Kingdom as
a detached, floating ideal could hardly have ac-
complished its task for the world. The world was

92

THE KINGDOM AND THE WORLD

a very compact organization of material and
mental forces on a moral basis of self-seeking, and
over against it tlie forces of the Kingdom needed
definite organization. That to Paul chiefly this
task of developing the organization was com-
mitted was no reflection upon the adequacy mth
which the more fundamental task of Jesus was
performed, under whose immediate supervision
that organization had assumed only germinal
form. The only question is whether mthin that
organization he embodied the principles of Jesus.
To pursue that question would lead too far afield
from the purpose of this book; but attention
should be called to the fact that Paul, in the
famous passage in which lie draws the analogy
between the relations of the organs of the human
body and the constitution of the Christian com-
munity, has given the most striking and perfect
picture of a social organization according to the
principles of Jesus which can be found in all
literature. No one has presented any con\dncing
e\T.dence that there is in his doctrine any es-
sential divergence from the principles of Jesus.
Troeltsch is right when he affirms that in the
teaching of Paul ^^the essential marks of the
ethic of the Gospel remained, but as the etliic
of an organized religious community received a
new shading.'' If Paul performed his allotted
task of organizing the intellectual and social life
of the Christian communities in line with the
fundamental ideas of Jesus, it is futile to main-

93

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

tain tha^ he divorted the movement from the cen-
tral purpose of Jesus. Those fundamental ideas
needed first to be embodied in the organization
of the Christian communities themselves before
they could begin to embody themselves in a trans-
formed social order of mankind. The question is
not when or how Paul expected the Kingdom to
be established, but what sort of social order would
its principles, as he enunciated them, inevitably
create when embodied in the lives of the people.
The alleged diversion did take place. It was not,
liowever, accomplished by Paul, but by those wiio
came after him.

Before proceeding to discuss the relations of
the Kingdom to the world in detail, it would be
well for us to go into a somewhat more careful
analysis of the nature of social relations in gen-
eral. Such an analysis wdll disclose the fact that
all social relations are in ultimate reality psy-
chical. For illustration, let us examine a par-
ticular social structure w^hich is as far as pos-
sible removed from the *^ spiritual'' type — say,
a business corporation, a railroad company. Man-
ifestly this corporation does not consist of the iron
tracks, rolling stock, and accessory buildings. It
is a definite group of persons in certain relations
with one another. And these relations in their
ultimate reality are not physical. The corpora-
tion is not an aggregation of human bodies;
though it controls in fact the activities of a num-
ber of bodies. In its essential reality it is a sys-

94

THE KINGDOM AND THE WORLD

tern of psychical relations. It is a number of
minds, wills, hearts in definite and relatively per-
manent attitudes toward one another, reacting
upon one another in definite and regular ways,
together constituting a complex unity, and
through the physical energies which they control
and correlate, transporting men and things from
place to place. Structurally it is a system of
psychical relations. If we think of it function-
ally, two things are apparent. First, it is phys-
ically conditioned in its activity. That is, the
interaction between the several units composing
the system as well as the action of the system as
a whole must take place through certain physical
media, human bodies and the natural forces they
control. Second, and more important, each mind
is dominated or impelled in its interaction with the
other minds constituting the sytem by certain feel-
ings or motives; and the whole system in its re-
lations wdth society at large is dominated and
impelled by certain desires and purposes, and
judges the activity of each of its members by his
loyalty and efficiency in working to these ends.
In its structure, then, it is essentially a psychical
system ; in its acti^dty it is controlled by an ethical
ideal which determines its standards and modes
of action.

What is true in this respect of this corporate
unit is true of every other, and is true of human
society as a whole. The social order in its most
significant aspect is a vastly complex system of

95

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

psychical relations — human minds, wills, hearts in
more or less permanent relations with and re-
action upon one another and guided in that inter-
action by ethical principles. Doubtless there has
never been a time when a given society was ani-
mated by one and the same ethical ideal through-
out; but the state of ethical unity, that is, the
pervasion of the whole society by a single dom-
inating ethical principle, has been at times very
closely approximated; so that all the important
social functions, religious, political, economic,
were under the control of that one principle.
Such was the state of things in the first century
of the Christian era. All the great functions of
society were under the control of the ethical prin-
ciple of self-seeking ; and the general organization
of life on tliis principle constituted the ^' world,''
according to John's use of the term. As was said
in a previous chapter, a fearful disintegration of
the ethical and religious ideals and standards
which had formerly guided conduct took place in
the organization of the Roman Empire upon the
ruins of the ancient group organization of life.
The world-spirit was never perhaps so frankly
dominant; the sheer self-seeking impulses of hu-
man nature never so thoroughly emancipated from
the religious and ethical controls of conduct. This
does not imply that there were none who recog-
nized moral restraints. There were numbers of
good people, spiritually-minded people, but they
were unorganized — scattered ^* sheep without a

96

THE KINGDOM AND THE WORLD

shepherd;'* and were able only to suffer and to
long for sure guidance and a better day.

Now, how are the Kingdom and the world re-
lated to one another in detail? The Kingdom
was founded and grew up in the Avorld. The Im-
man material, so to speak, which the Kingdom
absorbs and assimilates is taken from the world.
That is, men when they enter the Kingdom must
give up the principles, ideals, modes of life of the
world and adopt those of Jesus instead. The
inner lives of men which have been cast in the
mould of the world must be made over and recast
in the mould of Christ's character. This is the
work of individual regeneration, and is funda-
mental. It is evident, then, that the organization
of the Kingdom must be primarily a work upon
the souls of men, bringing them into new relations
with God and one another. This work is a re-
casting or a reconstituting of their relations God-
ward and man-ward. As before said, these souls
have been constituent elements of the social order
of the w^orld. The Kingdom therefore as an or-
ganism feeds upon the organism of the world,
absorbing its individual personal elements and re-
organizing them into a new system of life. It
is easy to see, therefore, that evangelization was,
has been and is the primary process in the growth
of the Kingdom.

There is, it is apparent, no spatial separation
of these two systems of life. His disciples were
not, nor was it intended by Jesus that they should

' ^ 97

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

be, isolated from the world. On the contrary, He
says in speaking to the Father, *'I pray not that
thou shouldst take them out of the world.'' The
practice of Avithd musing from the world was a
perversion of Christianity which arose at a later
period, as a result of the combination of certain
non-Christian ideas with the doctrine of Jesus;
as was also the notion that Christians were to live
passively in the world-order without either shar-
ing in its spirit or seeking to transform it. They
were not to partake of its spirit ; but the members
of the two were to be continually in contact with
one another. This is true of the free, unorgan-
ized, personal contacts. Christians are expected
to meet and mingle with other people in the in-
formal relations of life. But vrhat is of equal
and perhaps greater importance, they must fit
themselves into the structural relations of society
with the members of the world-order. They must
participate with others in carrying on the or-
dinary social activities, domestic, political, and
economic. Other\ATse they would have to segre-
gate themselves and organize these functions for
themselves de novo, which was only to a limited
extent practicable. Let us consider separately
these two modes of contact.

First, the free, informal, personal contacts. In
mingling mth people in the free, unorganized re-
lations of life, personal influences of a most
potent and important kind are operative. One
cannot calculate ^vith any precision to what ex-

98

THE KINGDOM AND THE WORLD

tent his habits of thinking, ways of looking at
things, estimates of men, modes of feeling, are
determined in such contacts: but all experience
teaches ns that it is very great. Children in play-
ing with one another, adults in their chance meet-
ings and accidental contacts, in their informal
friendly, or unfriendly, conversations, etc., are
profoundly influenced in their inner lives. These
incalculable reactions of mind upon mind are
among the most indefinable but powerful forma-
tive agencies in the shaping of character. They
are so very powerful because in such experiences
we are usually ** off-guard.'* Suggestions come
flowing in on the stream of conversation and im-
bed themselves in the very tissues of mental life
when the attention is not focused upon them and
the will is not in a defensive attitude; and then
they colour one's thinking and modify one's ac-
tions without any clear consciousness of the
sources from which such modifications were de-
rived. Even the scenes casually looked upon, the
human actions and situations observed, the pic-
tures flashed upon the eye, all leave their impress
upon the mind and heart. When we reflect upon
the significance of such interchanges of mental
and moral influences in the informal association
of persons and accidental contacts with various
phases of social environment, we at once realize
what a problem grows out of them in the rela-
tions of the Kingdom with the world. The mem-
bers of the Kingdom must be profoundly affected

99

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

in these ways; and likewise the people of the
world.

Focus attention, in the second place, upon the
contacts wiih the world in the organized relations
of social life. The economic and political activi-
ties of men, as before pointed out, were at the
origin of Christianity organized on the principle
of self-seeking; as they are yet to a very large
extent. Nevertheless, Christians had perforce to
take part in some way in these organized activi-
ties. To be sure, the political organization of
society at that time was such that the masses of
the people had little to do -with, the actual opera-
tion of the organ of government; and yet they
were subjects and functionally related to the sys-
tem; and the Christians were no exception. But
the principles and ideals of the Christians were
essentially and irreconcilably opposed to those
which were actually dominant in political life. In-
stinctively the government perceived this, and as
soon as the band of Christians grew so large as
to constitute a social group of importance it drew
upon itself the hostility of the political power. In
vain did they plead that they were loyal subjects,
and that they cherished no revolutionary pur-
poses. That was true — and not true. The foul
charges brought against them were absolutely
false; but at the same time the world as it was
politically organized dimly perceived the fact that
there was at work among the Christians a con-
ception of man and of human relations which was

100

THE KINGDOM AND THE WORLD

hostile to the principles embodied in the existing
pohtical order.

The same conception of man and human re-
lations which was embodied in the political order
was also incarnated in the economic organization
and methods. Economic functions were not so
highly developed then as now ; but they were then
in a much more thoroughgoing way than now
organized and operated on the basis of self-seek-
ing, although they have even yet been less modified
in spirit and method by the Christian ethic than
any other department of social activity. The in-
stitution of the ** community of goods" among the
Christians, as recorded in the Acts, certainly did
not indicate any definite economic theory, and, it
is equally certain, did not manifest a clear con-
sciousness of the inconsistency of the ethical prin-
ciples of Christianity with the prevalent economic
methods; but it is nevertheless an illuminating
incident. It was a manifestation under peculiar
and temporary conditions of the Christian con-
sciousness that material goods were, like all other
possessions, subject to the law of love and service.
It was the expression of a conception of property
which was in fact radically different from that
of the world. It is impossible to say how far the
early Christians realized the economic implica-
tions of the principles of the new life. Very
vaguely, in all probability. As we shall see later,
the great Master had directed their attention to
this question in some of His most emphatic ut-

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

terances; it seems, however, that the economic
applications of His doctrine did not occupy a
large place in their thinking. Nor has it done so,
except spasmodically and incoherently, down to
the present epoch.

But whether they have been fully conscious
of it or not, the fact that Christians have all the
time been engaged in economic activities which
are not organized on the basis of Christian ethics
has given rise to some of the most serious prob-
lems in the relations of the Kingdom and the
world. It has involved many difficulties in Chris-
tian living; led to not a few anomalies and in-
consistencies; weakened Christian testimony and
reacted unhealthfully on Christian character;
though, on the other hand, it has profoundly modi-
fied these activities and broken in part the do-
minion of the world over them. There has been
gping on within these spheres of activity a con-
test between the ideals of the Kingdom and the
ideals of the world — a contest somewhat blind
and unconscious — for the control of those great
organs through which the collective life expresses
itself. As yet they have not been wrested from
the control of the world, except in part; but the
level of politics and business has been consider-
ably elevated. Indeed, throughout the entire
range of institutional life these two antagonistic
principles have been struggling for the mastery,
with results which are good but yet not decisive.

In considering the relation between the Iving-
102

THE KINGDOM AND THE WORLD

dora and the world there are two principles,
operative on both the biological and sociological
levels of life, that should be made clear in our
thought.

First, an organic being of any kind will either
gradually conform itself to the environment with
which it is in contact or conform the environ-
ment to itself, or will partly do both. An or-
ganism cannot live in an environment and not
be conformed to it, unless it is opposing and re-
forming it. Second, there is a constant tendency
to equilibrium of opposing forces. In other
words, conflict tends toward some form of ad-
justment in which active opposition ceases.
Forces that clash, and neither of which can an-
nihilate the other, ultimately seek to settle down
upon some modus vivendi. How these principles
apply in the matter we have under discussion is
obvious. The members of the Kingdom must
be aggressive or they will simply be mastered by
and conformed to the worldly environment. In
their informal relations with men they must main-
tain a tense and positive spirituality; they must
be constantly seeking to control, to master, to
reform the worldly influences in the midst of
which they live. The same attitude must be main-
tained in their institutional relations. They must
strive without ceasing to breathe the Christian
spirit into the social functions which they are
performing, and to bring the entire operation of
these functions under the control of Christian

103

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

principles. Otherwise, they vail fall into the
habits and customs of the world, being moulded
b}^ the worldly spirit of their daily occupations;
insensibly their ideals mil be tarnished, and they
will compromise. The opposing forces Tvill find
their equilibrium. But when that equihbrium is
reached the citizen of the Kingdom T\ill be found
li\ing a divided and inconsistent life; shorn at
once of the outreaching enthusiasm and the in-
ward peace which should be his. This equilibrium
at times becomes relatively stable. The indi-
vidual character crystallizes in this inconsistency.
The life is divided into two segments, one sacred,
the other secular, in which two antagonistic prin-
ciples are regnant. The man passes from one
dominion into the other, changing sovereigns
mthout any consciousness of the ethical signifi-
cance of what he is doing. In a use of the phrase
quite different from that of the prophet, ^Hhe
lion and the lamb lie down together" in the in-
most chamber of the man's fife.

Corresponding to this segmentation of the in-
di^ddual life, a curious correlation of these oppo-
site ethical principles takes place in the social
organization. Economic and political systems are
lifted to a level on which the more crude and
harsh forms of conflict are condemned; but they
are still regarded as a field in which secular prin-
ciples are necessarily dominant; in which a thor-
oughgoing application of the principles of Jesus
is not possible. In them only a lower type of

104

THE KINGDOM AND THE WORLD

Christian life is practicaLle, the ^^lay type."
Flanking these institutions, which occupy the
center of the secular sphere, are others which are
also secular, but which widely diverge from one
another in character and tendency. On the right
are the educational institutions, which have for
their aim the training of men into higher effi-
ciency. At first they were adjuncts of the re-
ligious institution, but have been gradually taken
under the wing of the political, or organized as
private corporations, until they have been for
the most part thoroughly secularized. On the
left stands a group of such institutions as the
saloons and the brothels, whose business it is to
minister to the baser appetites and passions.
They are perfunctorily condemned, but compla-
cently tolerated as ** necessary evils.'' In truth
they are so thoroughly integrated in the system
of secular society that for an indefinite period
they were not seriously antagonized; and since
they have been challenged or threatened with de-
struction they boldly claim to be essential ele-
ments of it, and are in fact so interrelated with
the economic and political activities that they
cannot be driven out of the field ^\ithout a very
disturbing agitation, and can frequently rally to
their defence the whole array of economic and
political forces.

Off to itself stands the church, the distinctly
religious organization. Its activities are sup-
posed to be dominated by the principles of Jesus,

105

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROORESS

and in tliese activities the minister is wliolly ab- '
sorbed. Being limited to this *^ sacred sphere"
of life, he is supposed to be able to lead a Chris-
tian life of a higher type than the layman, who
is necessarily occupied with secular affairs. But,
though set apart from other institutions in popu-
lar thought, the church is in fact so closely knit
up with the economic and political life and so
thoroughly dominated hj those who direct secu-
lar activities that it is seriously handicapped in
making a bold and unflinching application of its
principles to all dei^artments of life. In a word,
the world is found holding the purse-strings of
the church. In the interior of church life as
without, the Kingdom forces and the world forces
are often found in a state of comparatively stable
equilibrium.

Between the sacred and secular departments
of life stand a group of institutions which may
with equal truth be described as ^^ sacred'' or
** secular." They are the orphanages, hospitals,
asylums, etc., whose function it is to care for and,
when possible, rehabilitate the wrecks of society.
They perhaps constitute the most tangible or vis-
ible, though by no means the most real, evidences
of the fact that the Kingdom of God, notwith-
standing the relatively stable equihbrium with
the world, is a living social force.

But no equilibrium of forces is ever absolutely
stable. There have been times when the social
situation just described seemed immovably fixed.

106

THE KINGDOM AND THE WORLD

So it was in the Middle Ages, when the division
between the sacred and secular spheres and call-
ings of life was most definitely recognized, while
at the same time the sacred institution was
formally united with, the secular and in theory
dominated it. But disturbances and upheavals
inevitably came. T?ie fermenting forces of the
Kingdom were at work; and in the present time
the equilibrium is so thoroughly upset that some
timid souls who love the Kingdom are fearful
lest the essential forces of social cohesion are
giving way. It is in fact only an extensive dis-
turbance of the balance of forces which had been
in a state of comparative equilibrium ; and it opens
the way for a great advance towards the triumph
of the Kingdom over the world. When one ap-
prehends the deeper significance of the present
unrest, of the decadence of old and the develop-
ment of new standards, of the invincible optimism
which characterizes the struggle for the enthrone-
ment of new ideals, he cannot fail to see that it
foretokens the readjustment of all the elements
of our social fife on a liigher level — and perhaps
that level will be high enough to make visible
above the horizon the sun which is to bring in
a day whose brightness, as contrasted with the
darkness of this time, will seem the full glory of
the reign of righteousness.

It appears, then, that there are three methods
by which the Kingdom may seek to effect a trans-
formation of the social organization — construc-

107

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

tion, destruction and reconstruction. The con-
structive work consists first and fundamentally in
the inculcation of ethical ideals as a necessary
basis of the various forms of its institutional ac-
tivity. Ideals influence the activity of men in
their organized as well as in their informal re-
lations; though their control over organized life
is reahzed much more slowly than over individual,
personal acts, because institutions have a greater
inertia and resist change more effectively. In
the second place, it consists in the creation and
development of new social structures, through
which the forces of the Kingdom may freely
operate. The lirst and most important of these
is the church. In the church the Christians segre-
gated themselves, as far as that was practicable,
from the world. Even in this institution, how-
ever, they could not, as we have observed, keep
the line of demarcation absolute. By the side of
the church a whole series of benevolent institu-
tions sprang up as embodiments of the spirit
of love which sought to bring both temporal and
spiritual aid to the friendless and unfortunate.
As the state fell more and more under the in-
fluence of the Christian spirit, it also established
such agencies for social relief.

By destruction is meant the process of out-
lawing and ehminating social agencies which min-
ister to and develop the lower passions, and so
debase men. This is a necessary and important
process in social progress. There is no other

108

THE KINGDOM AND THE WORLD

appropriate attitude for Christians to assume
toward such organized vices.

By reconstruction is meant the reorganization
of institutions which are essential to the social
life, but which need to be brought under the sway
of motives and principles wliich will cause them
to perform their function more directly in the
interest of all.

The stress may fall now upon one and now
upon another of these methods. In the early days
the benevolent spirit of Christianity busied itself
mainly in construction. The conditions were such
as to offer no other available channel for the
expression of the energies of the Kingdom. At
a later time efforts were made in the direction
of reconstruction; but it was undertaken through
organic union of the church with the state, and
resulted in an equilibrium of the opposing forces
of the Kingdom and the world, and in a more
profound reconstruction of the church than of
the state. Subsequently it was found that an ad-
vance could be made in the reconstruction of the
political organ only by severing this union; so
that the church could bring its influence to bear
in a more effective way by building up a higher
ideal in the hearts of the people as the necessary
foundation of the nev7 state. This, together with
other influences working in the same direction,
has profoundly influenced the organization of the
state and the spirit in wliich it is operated.

In quite recent times the method of destruc-
109

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

tion has been much insisted upon. Nominal Chris-
tians have become numerous enough to control
the policies of the government, v^hich, on the old
plan, by undertaking to license and regulate vari-
ous vices, had at once solidified them as a political
force and entrenched them -^dthin the protection
of the law. Against such a trccitmont of vice
there has been a great revolt of the Christian
conscience in recent times, and the effort has been
made to extirpate such vicious institutions, root
and branch, by prohibitive legislation. Great so-
cial improvements have resulted, but tliis crusade
has nevertheless failed to accomplish all that has
been hoped for. The difficulty of the program has
been far greater than expected, and has forced
attention to an aspect of the situation which was
not clearly apparent at first, \iz., that these vicious
institutions which so successfully defy the indig-
nant Christian conscience have their roots deep in
the economic life.

The more the economic situation is studied
the more obvious it becomes that both political
corruption and organized ^dce must be attacked
through an economic reformation, Avithout ceasing
the direct frontal assault upon them. In other
words, more attention must be given to the method
of reconstruction. The economic organization has
resisted as yet more successfnlly than any other
of the essential social functions the application of
the principles of the Kingdom. But to-day tliis
central stronghold of the spirit of the world, from

110

THE KINGDOM AND THE WORLD

which radiate malign influences in all directions,
is under heavy fire. Its destruction is not aimed at
and would mean the collapse of the entire social
order; but its reconstruction into conformity to
the ideals of the Kingdom would amount almost
to a social regeneration. It would release the
church from its principal handicap ; it would avert
the most serious menace of home life; it would
open the way for the introduction of higher spir-
itual ideals into education ; it would weaken and
isolate the institutions of organized vice and make
their destruction a far less formidable task; it
would cut the tap-root of political corruption, and
the state would be vastly uplifted in its ideals. As
it is, the coercive and restraining function of
government must absorb the greater part of the
energy of the state, wliile at the same time its
coercion and restraint are inequitably applied.
That there is so much evil to repress is in large
part due to the fact that the economic machinery
is dominated by wrong ideals and is operated in
a wrong spirit. In the repression of evils, the
government is seriously perverted by the same
economic forces wliich, under the control of a
false ideal, are largely responsible for the ex-
istence of the evils. The collective energy which
is operative through the government is largely
used up in the effort to repress evils which have
one of their main sources at least in the operation
of the collective energy through the wrongly or-
ganized economic agencies. It is an irrational
situation. m

JESUS AND SOCIAL PEOGRESS

The Kingdom of God cannot he realized solely
by the constructive and destructive processes.
We may build homes for the homeless, asylums
for the insane, hospitals for the sick, rescue mis-
sions for the ^^down and out,'' etc., but a deeper
look into the situation reveals the fact that much
of this human wreckage — just how much nobody
knows — is ground out by the great, unchristian
economic organization itself. Again, we make
stringent laws, erect courthouses and jails, elabo-
rate legal machinery, and spend much time and
energy in the suppression of lawlessness, which
nevertheless goes on increasing, and largely be-
cause the social organization itself produces it.
The supreme need to-day is the reorganization of
the great central functions of the secular life.
If the economic system were reorganized in ac-
cordance with the etliics of the Kingdom, the col-
lective energy wliich expresses itself in political
activity might be more largely and indeed cliiefly
devoted to positive measures for the advancement
of human welfare along the lines of material and
spiritual achievement. The great desideratum of
our age is that the functions of economic and
political life, through which by far the largest
volume of collective energy is organized and ap-
plied, should be wholly mastered by the spirit of
ser\dce and turned into mighty engines for the
speedy bringing in of the Kingdom of God. Only
thus can the Engdom accomplish its final and
complete victory over the world.

112

CHAPTER in

THE INDIVIDUAL PERSONALITY

We have seen that Jesus appeared at the tinie
when the ancient, narrow, closed-group organiza-
tion of society had been broken up by the com-
bination and commingling of the multifarious
groups in one great empire. That was the neces-
sary preparation for the emergence into full con-
sciousness of the value of the individual. At
that period a number of ethical teachers appeared
who apprehended mlh more or less clearness the
central value of the individual, and embodied the
principle with more or less consistency in their
systems. But in the evangel of Jesus it found
its most perfect expression; and the emphasis it
received in His teaching has never been exceeded
since. So strongly did He stress it and so con-
stantly did He assume it in all His religious and
ethical doctrine, that many of His followers have
not unnaturally attributed to Him an extreme in-
dividualism and failed to grasp the broader social
implications of His message. He came ^4n the
fullness of time," when the systems of religious
and ethical thought organized in and adapted to
the old regime had disintegrated and the inner
life of mankind had not been reorganized about
a new centre. That new centre was the individual

' 113

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

rather than the clan or tribe or nation. More
properly speaking, the social consciousness was
so broadened as to include all humanity, and in
tliis consciousness the individual necessarily ap-
pears as the centre of value. It was Jesus who
effected this transference of emphasis. This was
one of His cliief contributions to the world as a
teacher. Was He right? In quite recent times
the pendulum of thought seems to be swinging
back toward the group as the significant social
unit, and we hear frequent suggestions that the
individualism of the doctrine of Jesus unfits it
to supply the etliical need of this age. This is
a matter of very great importance, and it behooves
us to investigate it.

Certainly no moral teacher has ever beheld in
the individual human being the unspeakable prec-
iousness which Jesus saw in him. This concep-
tion of man is rooted in His central religious
doctrine; it is involved in Plis representation of
the divine character. The holiness and righteous-
ness of God's character, as set forth in the He-
brew Scriptures, He accepted in the fullest sense;
the mercy of Jehovah He expanded and exalted
into the generic attribute of love, which He makes
the supreme and essential characteristic of the
di\'ine nature. John sums up this doctrine in the
noble aphorism, ^^God is Love," which one can
easily believe was borrowed from Jesus; which,
at any rate, is manifestly a condensation of His
teaching, even if this sentence did not actually

114

THE INDIVIDUAL PERSONALITY

fall from His lips. Love does not, like mercy,
denote an emotional attitude of God called forth
by the helpless dependence of men who are ap-
pealing to His strength, ]nit rather the charac-
teristic attitude of the divine will toward the
whole creation — the mainspring of the divine ac-
tivity. By the original impulse of His nature,
God ever seeks the well-being and only the Avell-
being of all men. This quality is positive and
aggressive. The outflow of the di\dne energy is
but the streaming into action of a benevolent and
beneficent purpose. God loves because it is His
fundamental nature to love, and any disposition
or attitude which is contrary to love is impossible
to Him.

The enthronement of love in God's character
by no means dwarfs or overshadows His holi-
ness ; and yet the ethical repulsions of THs nature
do not set bounds to the sphere in which His love
operates, though they do necessarily modify its
expressions. AVithin the realm of natural law
God treats all ahke, causing His sun to shine and
His rain to fall on both the good and the bad.
In His ethical judgments He sharply discrimi-
nates; but in His discriminating apportionment
of awards there is no suggestion that His treat-
ment of the morally bad is not motived by love.
Certainly it does not flow from a motive that is
inconsistent with love. The strength of His moral
reaction against the evil is really the measure of
His desire to bless them. His love is profoundly

115

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

ethical; this does not mean that it does not ex-
tend to the wicked, but simply that moral per-
fection is the blessing which He seeks so ener-
getically to bestow. Wrong disposition and con-
duct He reprobates with the whole strength of
His being, because the wrong ruins and destroys
those whom He tries to perfect and glorify. If
we think for a moment upon the whole motive
and process of redemption as preached by Jesus
it will appear that the divine love, so far from
stopping at the line which divides the good from
the evil, extends ^Yith equal energy towards both
poles of the moral universe, but manifests itself
in quite different ways in the two directions. Sin
does not turn back the current of the divine love,
but transforms it from complacent joy into a
tragedy of spiritual suffering on account of the
sinful, somewhat as the resistance of the non-
conducting carbon converts the stream of electric
energy into white light. But tliis reduces in no
degree the retributive action of the divine justice,
which we may liken to the heat generated by the
conversion of the electric current into light. In
the harmony of a morally perfect character jus-
tice is only the reverse side of love. In the
thought of Jesus, God's character is a perfect har-
mony; and His action is not, as it so often is with
imperfect men, the resultant of conflicting emo-
tions and contradictory desires.

Ao^ain, God's love is not limited bv race lines.
The God of Jesus is the God of the whole human

116

THE INDIVIDUAL PERSONALITY

race, since all races have an equal share in His
benevolent interest. If Ho besto\\'s special gifts
upon or confides special revelations to any one
race, it is only in order that the race so favoured
may be the purveyors of that blessing to all others ;
and the race which declines this mission and seeks
to appropriate and use any boon as an exclusively
racial asset is condemned, and in the sure proc-
esses of the divine judgment must suffer the
penalty of humiliation and see its function trans-
ferred to another. This lesson is impressively
taught in the parable of the vineyard.

However, it might be alleged that in His
remarks to the Syro-Phoenician woman, Jesus
exhibited a trace of Jewish racial pride and ex-
clusiveness.^ Some difficulty may be frankly ad-
mitted in interpretating this passage in harmony
with the contention of this paragraph. According
to the record He did use the language of Jewish
haughtiness and contempt for other peoples on
this occasion ; but this v/as so unlike Him, so con-
trary to His bearing in all similar situations, that
it is quite impossible to harmonize it with His
general disposition and conduct except by suppos-
ing that He assumed such an attitude for a special
reason ; and such a reason is suggested on the face
of the narrative. He especially desired at this
time to withdraw from public view, and knew
that to grant this woman's request would in-
evitably, as it did in fact, give publicity to His

»Matt. 15:21-28: Mark 7:24-30.
117

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

presence. He also felt that His efforts dur-
ing His brief career on earth should be lim-
ited to work among the Je^\ish people; in which
there is nothing inconsistent with His conscious-
ness of a mission to the whole human race.
For it is clearly the order of the world that cer-
tain races and nations have assigned to them
great functions to perform in the interest of all
mankind; and it has always been true that the
great leaders of men have wrought most ef-
fectively for all peoples who have done most to
bring their own people to a full realization and
performance of their special mission. Whatever
may be one's theological notions as to the mean-
ing of the character and work of Jesus, there is
no reason to assume that He was an exception
to this rule ; and there is, therefore, no reason to
suppose that His disinclination to extend His per-
sonal acti\dties beyond His own race indicated
any racial limitations upon His sympathy. That
He looked to the ultimate extension of the bene-
fits of His work to all mankind it is quite im-
possible to deny with any plausibility whatever.
Some interpreters have assumed that He hesi-
tated on this occasion and used the harsh lan-
guage of Jewish bigotry in order to develop to
the maximum the woman's humility and faith.
However that vras, the facts are that He did not
send her away unblessed; that He did grant her
request, apparently at His o\^ti inconvenience and
peril; that His language and bearing were, how-

118

THE INDIVIDUAL PERSONALITY

ever, so exceptional that they can be consistently
explained only on the hypothesis of His having
had some special reason or reasons for doing so,
whether they appear in the record or not. How
is it possible to suppose that He had the ex-
clusiveness and intolerance of the Jews when one
considers His attitude and conduct toward the
Samaritans and the publicans! It is incredible.
Many of His utterances and acts show conclu-
sively that in His own disposition and in His
conception of the relations of God to men He
dwelt in a region far above racial pride or na-
tional exclusiveness. The group-consciousness of
Jesus was co-extensive with the human race.

What has just been said of His disregard of
racial limitations is even more emphatically true
as to His attitude toward class distinctions. He
exhibited, perhaps, a keener consciousness of these
than of racial lines of cleavage; and this is not
a matter of wonder. The terrible injustices which
grow out of class inequalities are more numerous,
more inveterate, and spring from deeper roots
in human nature than those which grow out of
racial divisions. Racial repulsions originate in
the strangeness of look, of custom, of speech, etc.,
which is the result of isolation and divergent de-
velopment; but, if these repulsions are not ac-
centuated and inflamed by special causes, they are
naturally and ine\dtably toned down as intercom-
munication is extended and contact becomes more
frequent. When not aggravated by war or given

119

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

a sort of unnatural immortality by the subjection
of one race to another as an inferior caste in the
same society, they tend to disappear as a result
of the ordinary social processes of political, eco-
nomic, and intellectual intercourse between peo-
ples. On the contrary, class distinctions and re-
pulsions are the effects of two causes, one of which
will never pass away, and the other will pass
away only when the Kingdom of God becomes a
realized fact. These are the natural inequalities
of men and the selfishness of men. So long as
the old commonplace motive of selfish pride con-
tinues to operate in a society of unequal men,
society will tend to divide into classes, each of
which will seek to keep itself closed against those
which are inferior; repulsion will exist between
them; and the injustices which grow out of the
elevation of class above class in power and pri\^-
lege will continue. If the effort be made to blot
out those class distinctions vnth their iniquities
by means of a revolution, it turns out to be only
a temporary inversion of the social hierarchy and
the oppression of the oppressors by the oppressed.
It is true that the growth of industrialism
seems to tend toward the breaking up of the fixed
caste system of social organization, and the sub-
stitution of *'open classes'* for the hereditary
stratification. This mitigates in a measure the
injustice of the system. Under these conditions
it does not paralyze initiative by shutting men
up in the rigid framew^ork of closed classes, but

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opens to the lowly the possibilities of rising in
the social scale. But by changing the standard
of superiority from birth and breeding to wealth,
the social valuation of men is reduced to a more
materialistic basis ; and the injustices suffered by
the wage-earning class in their subjection to cap-
italistic masters, if less fatal to human aspira-
tions, are even more keenly felt than those ex-
perienced by the serfs of the Middle Ages; and
it is a question whether on the whole the wrong
done to essential humanity is not quite as great.
Industrialism is doubtless more favourable than
serfdom for the stronger, more capable members
of the labouring class ; but for the less capable it
may be more unfavourable, crushing them down
under the iron heel of competition to a degrada-
tion even more hopeless.

Furthermore, the contempt of one class for
another is more humiliating and intolerable to
the human spirit than the contempt of one race
for another. The contempt of one race for an-
other is usually reciprocated; the member of the
contemned race does not experience much suffer-
ing, or, as the psychologists would say, *^ depres-
sion of the self-f eeling, ' ' because he is supported
by his own race pride. In fact, as already hinted,
the major part of the suffering and injustice con-
nected with distinctions of race comes when one
race is subjected to another and the caste spirit
inflames and embitters the racial antipathy. It
is the pride of the unfortunate and strong look-

121

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

ing down upon and trampling the weak and un-
fortunate which has engendered more bitterness,
wrought more injustice, produced more helpless
and hopeless suffering, and done more to obstruct
personal development than any other cause that
has a social origin.

Whether the foregoing suggestions afford the
explanation or not, it is a fact that class distinc-
tions seemed to attract the attention of Jesus
more than the racial. The outrageous iniquities
that have their roots in the class spirit confronted
Him everywhere, offended His sense of justice
and contradicted the truth which lay nearest to
His heart, namely, that God\s love embraces all
men alike. His soul rose in protest against the
falsehood wliich underlay the whole social or-
ganization and controlled the relations of classes
to one another. Especially did tliis false spirit
of class pride arouse his indignation and call forth
His hot denunciation when it clothed itself, as it
usually does, in a religious garb and sought to
sanctify itself with the di\dne approval. He
smote it with the lightning of His moral wrath
and turned with especial tenderness to the weak,
the poor, the social outcasts, offering them the
Kingdom of God. They were human; they were
objects of the divine love ; as the victims of pride
and selfish power, they were in a very real sense
the especial objects of interest in the movement
He was inaugurating. Their hope of justice, their
chance to realize their humanity lay in the suc-

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THE INDIVIDUAL PERSONALITY

cess of His revolutionary enterprise. Through
the open doorway of tlie Kingdom lay their way
of escape from the thralldom in which their es-
sential humanity was stunted and marred. But
His doctrine did not represent any personal hos-
tility to the rich and powerful, for their pride of
position, their disdain for the downtrodden, their
Pharisaic assumption of superiority, their false
claim to preference in the eyes of God defaced
and degraded their own humanity even more
disastrously than it did that of the unfortunate
victims of the unrighteous social order. The
proud and powerful, as well as the weak and
humble, can realize their humanity only in the
Kingdom of God.

The love of God is for man as man; simple
and essential humanity is the precious thing. No
one class or race monopolizes humanity; there-
fore, no class or race can set boundaries to God's
love. Even the moral differences between men
can only modify its expression. ¥»^herever there
is a germ of humanity, thither flows the stream
of His love for the purpose of fertilizing and
developing it. Wherever there is a trace of the
human, it is a lode stone which attracts the at-
tention and interest of the heart of God.

But if the divine love is universally compre-
hensive in its scope, it is more than an active good-
^vill toward men en masse. It is said that one
may love a group without lo^dng the individuals
composing it — love man, but not men. But God's

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

love individualizes. No single hnman being is
so insignificant as to be lost in the crowd. *'God
so loved the world," — that sounds so general that
a lone and feeble man might wonder if he by him-
self meant anything to God; but the very next
words show that this love as it came into the world
on its beneficent mission individuahzed men in
the most intensive way, — **that whosoever be-
lieveth on him might not perish, but have ever-
lasting life.'' **Not a sparrow falleth to the
ground without your Father;'' and Jesus adds,
**Are ye not of much more value than many spar-
rows?" **The very hairs of your head are num-
bered." How beautifully do the stories of the
lost coin, the lost sheep and the lost son teach
the lesson that God's love is not merely a general
good-will directed toward groups of men, but is
the outgoing of a divine, solicitous, beneficent
energy which focalizes upon individuals and rec-
ognizes in them a value which justifies any sacri-
fice for their redemption and fills heaven with
joy at the recovery of one.

Not only does the divine love stream forth in
fullness and in minuteness of care toward each
individual, but seeks to evoke a personal response
from each and thus to establish a personal re-
lationship between each individual and God, a
relationship which is intimate and immediate.
Human priesthood is abolished. The priesthood
has a function only in the group-religions referred
to in a previous chapter. When religion becomes

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THE INDIVIDUAL PERSONALITY

primarily an affair not of the group, but of the
individual, the priest disappears. In a group-
religion a special class of functionaries is needed
to represent the whole body in its collective re-
lations with the deity; but when for that type of
religion is substituted one in which the deity es-
tablishes relations with individuals as such, the
priestly function by that very fact ceases. The
group religion and the priestly function are so
vitally related that wherever the latter has been
brought over into or reconstituted in Christen-
dom, Christianity has tended logically and in-
evitably to assume the form of a national church,
a sort of revival of the ancient type of religion;
and the principle of immediate individual rela-
tionship to God has been subordinated and ob-
scured. In the teaching of Jesus repentance is
a personal thing; regeneration is personal; faith
is personal; obedience is personal; salvation is
personal, and is conditioned solely upon personal
acts and attitudes; responsibility to God is per-
sonal and individual. Into the inner sanctuary
of the life, where the soul comes into personal
communion with God, no human authority, indi-
vidual or collective, has the right to enter. That
sanctuary is inviolable. In the Gospel of John,
in which the noble mysticism of the mind of Jesus
finds its best expression. He is reported as saying,
' ' If any man love me he will keep my words ; and
my Father will love him and we will come unto
him and make our abode with him.'' Surely the

125

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

intimacy of spiritual relationsliip could go no
further. The individual personality could receive
no higher consecration. And this is a privilege
open to all men.

To Jesus the only significant thing in the life
of man is the relation between persons. The uni-
verse which has meaning for Him is a system of
personal relationships. At the centre of it is God,
and all men are included within its compass. He
deals Avith personal relations primarily. Hence
His ethic is concrete and personal in a high de-
gree. For Him human society is but the personal
relations of men to men. In recent times we have
come to have a growing consciousness of society
as an organism, a great complex system of func-
tions. Our thought is taken up with the consid-
eration of social structures .and their interrela-
tions and interactions. Modern life is so highly
organized, differentiated into so many different
corporate activities, that to many thinkers per-
sonal relations do not any longer seem to be the
most significant thing in social life. It has been
pointed out that the relations of men to one an-
other are, with the higher evolution of society,
becoming more and more impersonal as they be-
come more functional. As all activities become
more highly specialized, human relations through
these functions necessarily become more frac-
tional, involving less and less of the personalities
of those related. For instance, one sits down to
his dinner-table, which is supplied by the work

126

THE INDIVIDUAL PERSONALITY

of a large number of persons distantly removed
in space, with whom he has no personal contact,
of whose very existence he has no knowledge ex-
cept by inference; and his contacts even with
those who do the final work of preparing the food
for his palate are becoming more perfunctory and
non-personal. How much of the personality is
involved in one's relations with those who make
his clothes, or bring his mail, or transport him
from place to place, or protect his life and prop-
erty? And so with all those functions by which
his life is served. Is this process to continue until
all social relations are quite emptied of their per-
sonal significance? It is this tendency which is
giving a new form to the moral problem of life,
and is leading some thinkers to question whether
the teacliing of Jesus, which certainly has for
its chief moral content the ethics of personal re-
lations, is adequate to the needs of modern fife.
The question may seem to be purely theoretical
in character, but is really an intensely practical
and vital one. If the life of every man is main-
tained by a lengthening series of corporate and
impersonal functions, and if his own activities are
only links in such a series by which other lives
are maintained, do we not, it is asked, need a new
morality adapted to this more elaborate organi-
zation of modern societj^?

Before answering, let us ask in what sense
are these functional relations impersonal? In
a general way, without undertaking a precise

127

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

analysis, we may divide human relations into four
or five classes. First, there are those which in-
volve the whole personality, as for instance the
relations of husband and \Adfe, parent and child.
Second, there are those which, while not involving
such absolute intimacy of personal intercourse,
do nevertheless bring personalities into a close-
ness and fullness of contact which at times ap-
proximates the intimacy of domestic life. In this
somewhat indefinite class belongs friendship in
all its degrees and forms. Third, there are those
which are direct, but which involve only a mini-
mum of immediate personal reaction. Such are
the purely * * business relations ' ' in all their varied
forms, in which persons meet whose only interest
in meeting is the performance of some regular
function. The persons meet, but it is like the
meeting of two spheres; the contact is only at
a single point. Fourth, there are those which
are indirect and functional. The persons do not
meet at all, are separated in space and often in
time also, by greater or smaller distances, and
may never see one another at all, and yet are
related through the far-reaching effects of their
activity ; as, for instance, the several persons who
co-operated in making the typewriter on which
these words are written are functionally related
to the writer. There is, moreover, a very real
sense in which each individual is related with all
persons in society, extending in our modern world
even out to the limits of humanity; and such in-

128

THE INDIVIDUAL PERSONALITY

definite and remote relations constitute a fifth
class. It is obvious that the number of persons
to whom one in a complex society is related in
these several ways increases vastly as the rela-
tions become less personal; and the more compli-
cated the social life becomes, the greater becomes
the relative importance of these lines of inter-
action which involve little or no personal con-
tact and which are therefore denominated imper-
sonal.

But if in one sense of the word they are im-
personal, in another they are not. It is well to
remember that, however much functions and
structures may be differentiated and elaborated,
however far removed in space and time and how-
ever unknown to one another may be the indi-
viduals so connected, the fact remains that human
society is composed of persons; that all the numer-
ous social activities are only relatively fixed
modes in which persons are reacting on one an-
other to their injury or well-being. It is ex-
tremely important that this fact should be kept
vivid in the consciousness of all men. The num-
ber of people who are related to each other in a
highly developed society is so great and so con-
stantly increasing, and those relations are for the
most part so indirect, and so fractional when
direct, that it is difficult not to think of the whole
complex of relations as a vast and intricate
mechanism, an almost limitless network of lines
along which impersonal forces operate. This is

» 129

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

due, in the first place, to the limitation of the
human imagination. Because we can not mentally
represent to ourselves separately all the indi-
vidual persons involved in these relations, we
think of them abstractly, apart from their con-
crete individualities, as so many impersonal enti-
ties. Then, too, it is implied in the very idea
of a highly complex organization that the func-
tions in which this multitude of persons are en-
gaged must be performed according to fixed and
regular modes of procedure. These modes of
procedure cannot possibly be formulated and
operated so as to take cognizance of and con-
form to the idiosyncracies and peculiar circum-
stances of the separate persons affected. Hence
the extension of what is called ^ ' red tape ' ' in the
whole system of modern life, which gives it the
appearance of mere mechanism. Many of these
acti^dties are performed with a regularity and
lack of consideration of the peculiar circumstances
of individuals which strongly remind one of the
operation of natural forces.

Out of this mechanical or non-personal con-
ception of social relations spring some of the
most serious dangers to society. In those rela-
tions in which men come face to face in fully
conscious personal contacts, the moral obligation
to benevolence and helpfulness is generally recog-
nized; but it is not so in these so-called imper-
sonal relations in the organized relations of so-
ciety. The failure to realize the personal effects

130

THE INDRHLDUAL PERSONALITY

of these activities gives a wide opportunity for
tlie selfish impulses to work unchecked by moral
law. Here we touch the root of the social prob-
lem of our age. The employer deals with
* labour,'' only dimly conscious of the fact that
he is dealing with living, throbbing, striving, suf-
fering persons, his own human brothers. So the
labourer is dealing with the ' ' capitalist ; ' ' so the
merchant and the customer in their dealing with
one another — and so on through the whole list
of the functional relations of society. The cor-
poration magnate adopts a policy under the in-
fluence of the motive of gain with but little
realization of the personal effects of that policy
in innumerable lives far removed from him, per-
haps, in time and space.

It is perfectly obvious that the supreme need
to-day is a deep and constant realization by all
men that the relations of this kind, while im-
personal in the sense that they do not involve
personal contact, are intensely personal in their
ultimate results; and thus it appears how im-
peratively we need to bring them under the con-
trol of those simple principles of personal ethics
so luminously taught by Jesus. Men will learn
before we are through Avith the agitations that
grow out of the enormous extension of social or-
ganization, that the ethical principles of Jesus
not only cannot be set aside as out of date, but
must be applied on a vastly larger scale, must
be made, in fact, the controlling principles in all

131

JESUS AND SOCIAL PEOGRESS

the increasingly specialized relations of men.
The very fact that the various forms of social
work must be reduced to system, that is, to regu-
larly related and fixed modes of procedure, -with-
out regard to the peculiarities and special cir-
cumstances of individuals, only emphasizes the
demand that all of them shall be conceived and
operated in a distinctly benevolent spirit, and
that those engaged in them shall have imagination
and sympathy. For the very reason that the
system does not bring men into full personal con-
tact and must be general and rigid in method,
it should have for its aim helpfulness and not
exploitation, service and not gain; and the func-
tionaries should be persons with hearts in har-
mony with this purpose, rather than bits of un-
feeling machinery. The great social processes
must not go on with the blind inconsiderateness
and regularity with which material forces operate,
blighting or blessing with equal indifference. The
more machine-like the social relations and activi-
ties become in the elaborateness of their organiza-
tion and the unbending precision of their opera-
tion, the more we need to animate them with the
spirit of loving service. Otherwise the social
organization, growing ever more complicated and
at the same time more impersonal in the spirit
in which its many functions are performed, will
give an ever larger and freer play-room to the
self-seeking impulses and will afford to the
powerful a more efficient means of exploiting the

132

THE INDIVIDUAL PERSONALITY

weak. The outcome will be the embodiment in
social life of the ethics of Nietzsche, which ele-
vates the selfishness of strength into the supreme
law of righteousness. Society must finally be
organized on the basis of the ethics of Nietzsche
or that of Jesus. It must approach the ideal
of a great co-operative brotherhood in which each
obtains his maximum of development by helping
all others to make the most of themselves, each
recognizing in personal development the supreme
good and holding the personalities of others of
equal value -with his own, thus knitting himself
together with others by the golden thread of love
into an association for mutual aid in self-realiza-
tion; or it must advance toward the ideal of an
hierarchical pyramid at the top of which sits the
Supreme Overman, whose superior capacity has
mastered the social machinery and uses it without
ruth or scruple to subordinate to His own will,
which knows no higher law, the interests and ener-
gies of all other men according to the measure
of their weakness. The one ideal aims to en-
throne the God of love among men ; the other, to
develop out of the uncompromising struggle of
selfish human interests a sort of demigod who
shall be more than man in strength and less than
man in character. The realization of the one
ideal would be like heaven; the fulfillment of the
other, like hell. But under the conditions of
modern life the momentum must steadily increase
in one direction or the other. If the social system

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

does not become an organism animated by love,
which values and exalts individual personality, it
must become the medium of conscienceless force,
which destroys personality and converts human
beings into mere parts of a vast machine. Both
tendencies are present and conflicting in our
present life; and answering to them are social
philosophies — one of which sees in personality a
spiritual reality which is the key to the meaning
of the social process; the other of which reduces
personality to a mere convergence in one human
organism of innumerable lines of material force.
There can, however, be no question as to which
tendency with its related philosophy will ulti-
mately prevail. The mechanizing tendency is
very strong, and the corresponding materialistic
philosophy is very dogmatic and confident in ut-
terance; but against the violence which they do
to personality the world is rising, and the protest
becomes more vigorous with every passing day,
because the development of society, notwithstand-
ing the mechanizing tendency, stimulates the de-
velopment of personality. Men are men, and they
inevitably rebel against being reduced to the
category of things. This revolt against the
mechanizing tendency is directing the thoughts
of men mth fresh interest to the doctrine of
Jesus. More than any of the world's great
teachers He has laid deep foundations for the
value of the individual person. He based it upon
the cornerstone of the universe. The simple

134

THE INDIVIDUAL PERSONALITY

human being, apart from the accidents of birth
or breeding, of fortune or of social status, is of
intrinsic and supreme worth; and the develop-
ment of all individual persons to the fullness of
the rich possibilities of humanity is the ideal
which defines and measures all values whatsoever.
All the collective processes which promote indi-
vidual men in their personal progress are good;
and good in so far as they do this. All institu-
tions are good or bad as they prove to be instru-
mentalities to this end or against it. Individuals
themselves are good if they consciously adopt
this as the end of their activity, and bad if any
other motive is central in their lives. To this
end God Himself is working. The multiplication
and perfection of human personalities is the end
of the universe so far as it comes within the pur-
view of man. The world-process is like a tree
which must be judged by its fruit, and its fruit
is individual personality. The failure of a single
human being in w^hom there dwells the germ of
personality to attain to its fulfillment is a tragedy
which casts its shadow upon the whole universal
process. To fail to help another whom one might
help to attain this fruition of existence is to fail
in part in attaining the end of one's own being; to
be the cause of that failure in another is the most
damnable of sins. **It were better that a mill-
stone were hanged about one's neck and he cast
into the midst of the sea." The ancient pliiloso-
phers speculated about the summum bomim, the

135

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

supreme good; and modern philosophers are de-
bating whether there be any supreme and in-
trinsic good, whether all values be not relative.
For Jesus, the supreme and intrinsic good is per-
sonality moving toward the goal of perfection,
attaining ever to a higher capacity for self-
direction and to an increasingly free and har-
monious adjustment to the central reality of the
universe.

136

CHAPTER IV

INEQUAX.ITY AND SERVICE

No TEACHER has recognized more fully than Jesns
the natural inequality of men. He was no ex-
travagant enthusiast, no visionary. He had a
profound respect for facts. The crude concep-
tion of equality which gained wide currency in
the French Revolution and received official ex-
pression, so to speak, in the American Declara-
tion of Independence, has no basis in His teach-
ing. Men are unequal. This fact He not only
perceived, but recognized as of divine origin.
Personal inequality is rooted in the will of God,
which to Him is the fundamental cause of the
universe. It not only is a fact, but must always
be a fact. This is clearly implied in the parables
of the talents and of the pounds, and is an as-
sumption underlying much of His other teaching.
His purpose never contemplated the making of
men equal. The equality of man is not included
in His ideal as a factor of a perfect social order.
The sober thought of even the strongest believers
in democracy has come to the position of Jesus
in regard to this matter.

The deeper the insight we get into the funda-
mental processes of the social life, the more im-

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

possible does it appear that men should ever
become equal. Consider these two correlative
facts — first, that specialization is going on all
the time in the occupations of men; second, that
differentiation is likewise going on all the time
in the individualities of men. The one involves
the other. In other words, the social relations
and activities are becoming more and more varied
and differences between the social units are con-
stantly appearing more and more. It is not
practically possible, it is not even thinkable that
this process should continue on an ever enlarging
scale without giving rise to inequalities. This
proposition hardly needs demonstration; but let
us suppose a social group consisting of a certain
number of individuals ^^ith a certain number of
functions in its organization. Then suppose that
the number of individuals quadruples and that
in the meantime the forms of social activity in
the group are subdivided and multiplied to tmce
their original number. It is obvious that the in-
creased number of persons li\dng in this more
complex social life and engaged in its more highly
specialized activities will be far more varied in
their indi\ddualities than the original number, be-
cause the conditions under which their several per-
sonalities are developed and the influences wliich
shape them will be more varied. But this leaves
out of account another cause of differences among
men, which is incalculable in its operation, but
which we nevertheless know to be a most im-

138

INEQUALITY AND SERVICE

portant fact in the individual and social life, viz.,
what may be called ' ' spontaneous variation ; ' ' that
is, changes of type and individual divergences
from type for which there is no assignable cause
unless we accept the religious explanation and
attribute them to the determination of the sov-
ereign will of God.

Now, if we should assume that in the begin-
ning all the persons of the above mentioned hypo-
thetical group were equal, it is not conceivable
that this process of differentiation, due both to
the influences of a changing environment and to
spontaneous variation, should go on among them
without resulting in differences of personal level
as well as personal differences on the same level.
But the assumption of original equality is inad-
missible. There has never been a human group
all the members of which were, at any stage of its
history, exactly equal, though personal equality
of its units is much more nearly approximated
in the early than in the later stages of its de-
velopment. Here again we find that the thought
of Jesus runs parallel with natural laws. In-
equality is the inevitable result of natural social
processes, says science; it is, says Jesus, rooted
in the divine purpose which is working itself out
in the evolution of society.

But while Jesus accepted the fact of inevitable
inequality as a part of the divine order. His atti-
tude was wholly different toward the unnatural
and artificial inequalities wliich sx)ring out of a

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

bad social system. The inevitable inequalities
which, would exist in a perfect society and the
inequalities of actual society do not by any means
coincide. This becomes more glaringly manifest
the more one looks into the situation in the eco-
nomic and political spheres. In the first place,
one of the most obvious facts of life is that by
reason of inequitable social arrangements the
actual adjustments of men are not determined
by the measure of personal values. It is a com-
mon thing — too common almost to attract atten-
tion— that many men enjoy material advantages
and social positions far superior to multitudes
of their fellows to whom, measured on the scale
of personal values, they are inferior. In the
second place, by reason of the inequitable social
adjustments many men who are born with su-
perior abilities are shut out from the opportunity
of developing them and must go through life with
stunted personalities. In the third place, on ac-
count of the irrational distribution of material
advantages and personal opportunities, multi-
tudes of people in each generation are brought
into the world under such conditions as to pre-
clude the possibiHty of their being born with nor-
mal human capacity, foredoomed, as the result
of iniquitous social arrangements, to weakness
and inefficiency from the very inception of their
being. For instance, what chance is there that
a child born in the unspeakable degradation of
the slums should have even the average equip-

140

INEQUALITY AND SERVICE

ment of personal power! As the result of a bad
social system we have continually before our eyes
not only the unfair distribution of material ad-
vantages and personal opportunities, but shocking
examples of perverted faculties and degraded per-
sonalities, and, what is worse, the ghastly human
freaks and malformations which were blighted
and blasted before the very beginning of their
conscious existence.

The fact that Jesus looked with complacency
upon the inevitable fact of inequality among
men does not imply that He set His approval
upon existing inequalities. The iniquitous social
organization is continually interfering with the
operation of the natural laws of human varia-
tion. The God-made and society-made differ-
ences between men are entirely distinct in prin-
ciple, though they are so interwoven in our
actual social life that no one can tell just where
the line of distinction should be drawn. Jesus
acknowledged and approved the former; He
condemned the latter and aimed at their abso-
lute elimination by transforming society so that
all its activities should be carried on according
to the will of God. It is, therefore, either an
exhibition of ignorance or an impious assumption
bordering on blasphemy for those who, in the
present order of society, are superior in any re-
spect to their fellow-men complacently to assume
that their superiority is a matter of divine pre-
destination. Such an interpretation implies a

141

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

liyper-Cahinistic fatalism which has no founda-
tion in the teaching of Jesus.

If, on the other hand, it be assumed, as is
done by a certain school of social theorists, that
the social organization is throughout the neces-
sary product of strictly natural or material forces,
is only one section of the general system of na-
ture, the distinction between natural and social
causation disappears. On the assumption of
naturalistic, just as on the assumption of theo-
logical fatalism above mentioned, it is meaning-
less to speak of social ivrongs. The fact that
some men oppress and exploit others has no more
moral significance than that wolves devour lambs ;
and the fact that a social system turns out a
multitude of human perverts is no more a matter
of moral concern than that abnormalities appear
as incidents of natural processes on all the lower
levels of being. Tliis hypothesis justifies the doc-
trine of Nietzsche, but it contradicts the central
doctrine of Jesus. All the teaching of Jesus pro-
ceeds on the assumption that, while all natural
forces are expressions of the will of God and con-
tinue to operate in the human sphere, new and
higher principles come into play in the realization
of the divine purpose among men. Although the
physical and biological laws are the same in the
animal and the human spheres, man is not re-
lated to God simply as the beast is. He is an
intelligent and moral being with an increasing
ability to control natural forces so that they may

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work out on tlie human level only beneficent re-
sults. Therein lie his dignity and responsibility.
When, therefore, he avails himself of natural
forces to defeat, oppress and exploit his fellow-
men he becomes morally culpable; and if the
social order, which is only the system of rela-
tions established by men among themselves, re-
sults in the mutilation or destruction of the hu-
manity of men, it becomes a solemn duty to
change the system. Dragons may **tear each
other in their slime," and in doing so be blindly
working out a beneficent purpose; but for men
consciously to do hkewise and justify themselves
by an appeal to natural laws is really to subvert
the order of nature and add hypocrisy to their
beastliness.

How, then, is a social system in which men
of varying grades of ability are related to one
another to be prevented from producing these
ill effects! Jesus gives us very httle in the way
of detailed solutions of social problems. He does
not undertake to formulate the plans and specifi-
cations of the ideal social structure. But He does
what is far more valuable; He declares and en-
joins with extraordinary clearness and force the
fundamental principle which must govern the
social relations of men, and states specifically
how that principle must be applied in a society
of unequal men. That principle is love, and it
must express itself in service. Each must serve
all and serve in accordance with the measure of

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his ability. The measure of ability is the measure
of the obligation to serve. His doctrine may be
briefly summed up thus: Each is under obliga-
tion to use whatever ability he has in the inter-
ests of all, and particularly of those who have
not that kind of ability. If, therefore, one is
superior to others in any element of power, he
is bound to use that superiority in their interest.
**If any man would be great among you let him
be your servant, and he that would be greatest
of all, let him be servant of all.'' This is the
law of the Kingdom, the ideal society.

Now, it is manifest that the injustices of actual
society arise from the fact that men use their
powers selfishly, and especially that the strong
use their exceptional power primarily in their
own interest. Of course, the social order cannot
be maintained at all, except as it is in some
measure a system of mutual services. Look, for
instance, at the economic functions. A railroad
could not continue to operate if its managers did
not in any measure serve the interests of its
patrons. A grocer could not continue in busi-
ness if he paid no attention whatever to the in-
terests of those who need groceries; and so on
through the whole list of the economic occupa-
tions. It is obviously the same in all other
spheres of activity. Even those who are engaged
in businesses of a hurtful kind can maintain them-
selves only by serving the abnormal appetites
and passions of men — their mistaken interests.

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Every variety of social activity comes under this
law. The moment any form of activity comes
to be generally recognized as altogether contrary
to this law, it is branded as anti-social and put
under the ban. Society must be maintained by
mutual services. It would otherwise instantly
dissolve into anarchy ; and the more extended and
complex the social organization, the more obvious
does this become.

But in actual society these activities, as a
rule, have for their primary motive the advance-
ment of those who are engaged in them, and
only secondarily the interests of others. They
are service-functions, but not performed in the
spirit of service. They are, therefore, largely
perverted from their true purpose. Under the
mastery of the self-seeking motives of the servant
the interests of the served are obscured and often
violated. As pointed out in a previous chapter,
the remarkable specialization of such activities
in a complex society gives a larger and freer play-
room for selfish motives and vastly increases the
opportunities of strong men to exploit the weak;
and yet, at the same time, increasing specializa-
tion makes more prominent the fact of interde-
pendence and emphasizes the necessity for the
spirit of service. Out of this perversion of
service-functions to selfish ends arise the in-
numerable abuses and wrongs which cry aloud
for correction. And it becomes more obvious all
the time that they can be corrected only by ac-

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PEOGRESS

cepting the principle of Jesus as the supreme
law of social life — each is bound to serve exactly
according to the measure of his ability. Again
and again has the whole social organism been
threatened with anarchy or the torpor of death
because men of superior ability have used their
extraordinary power to compel the weak to serve
them. It is the incidental service performed in
these social activities which renders a social order
possible at all; and not until men come to see
in their various powers so many special oppor-
tunities for and calls to the service of their fellow-
men, and in the social functions they perform so
many channels through which their powers may
be exerted in the interests of all, will the social
order yield its proper fruitage in the progressive
self-realization of all its members.

The selfish use of personal power is essentially
divisive and disintegrating. There could not,
therefore, exist a society in which this principle
prevailed without check; but it has always been
largely prevalent and is doubtless even yet domi-
nant in our society; and wherever it is dominant
the members of society are divided into factions
and kept in an attitude of latent or open war all
the time. Trust, mutual confidence, is reduced to
minimum; and mutual suspicion is stimulated to
the maximum. The field of co-operation is re-
stricted, and occasions of conflict are multiplied.
Heavy emphasis is placed upon rights, while
duties are stressed very lightly. Each member

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of society must sleep upon Ms arms. Society,
under such conditions, can be only an unstable
equilibrium of opposing forces, as the sole alter-
native to anarchy. Since men are unequal, the
result under such conditions must be a hierarch-
ical or an aristocratic constitution of society —
the superposition of one class upon another; for
the individuals of approximate equality, having
a common interest as against those of unequal
ability, are forced by the pressure to stand to-
gether. But within the classes the union must
be more negative than positive — the bond being
the outside pressure more than internal cohesion.
In other words, their unity under such conditions
will be due mainly to the relative weakness of the
internal antagonism as compared with the ex-
ternal. They will be held together not by an
identity of interests so much as by a community
of distinct interests, between which conflicts will
break out the moment the more dangerous con-
flict with other classes sufficiently abates. This
has, in fact, taken place on a large scale in the
development of society. In the most primitive
times antagonism lay chiefly between the kinship
groups — clans and tribes. In later times, as these
groups grew large and differentiation within them
proceeded, the antagonism of selfish interests
divided society into definite classes between which
there was latent or active opposition. The dif-
ferentiating process first split the solidarity of
the primitive group into distinct and opposing

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROORESS

sub-groups. In modern societies there has come
as the effect, in large part, of the higher speciali-
zation of occupations a considerable disintegra-
tion of castes. The opposition of classes, there-
fore, is not so pronounced a feature of our life,
and the antagonism of selfish interest takes a
more individualistic form.

So prominent has this principle of antagonism
been throughout the history of society that some
sociologists have considered conflict as the main
fact in the social liistory of man, and attributed
to it the chief influence in fashioning the social
structure. And there is no question that is has
had a most important influence. The inequality
of men selfishly used has proved always to be
divisive in tendency, setting groups or individuals
in opposition to one another, and this opposition
has given hierarchical or aristocratic form to the
social organization; and out of this arises envy,
contempt, jealousy, strife.

If, on the other hand, personal powers were
unselfishly used in service the inequalities of men
would become bonds of cohesion among them ; in-
stead of driving them asunder, inequality would
draw them together. It is not the fact that one
man is superior to another in personal qualities
that fills the heart of the inferior with bitterness
towards him ; it is the fact that he uses his superi-
ority to trample the interests of the weaker under
his feet, or that he in the pride of his superiority
holds himself aloof and ignores or looks down

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INEQUALITY AND SERVICE

upon liis inferior. When, on the contrary, the
superior draws near in genuine human brother-
hood, shows an interest in the inferior, and seeks,
in simple human kindness without any patroniz-
ing or condescension, to use his powers to advance
the weaker 's interests, it establishes between them
one of the strongest bonds known in human ex-
perience. Of course, no manifest consciousness
of superiority, no trace of pride, of self-exalta-
tion must mar the service. In such a relationship
the soul of the inferior man opens and blossoms
like a rose in June. The best that is in him is
awakened. All his slumbering capacities are
quickened; he grows, but does not grow faster
than his helper, in all the finest and highest quali-
ties of his nature.

It may be objected that while this is quite true
and quite practicable in the informal relations
of men, it is neither true nor practicable in the
relations between men in the social organization.
But it is practicable in these also. There are
certain occupations which have been already sub-
jected, at least approximately, to this law of
service. The minister, for instance, is expected
to use his special capacity, in which he is pre-
sumed to be superior to the members of liis con-
gregation, not for gain nor for the advancement
of any selfish interest, but in the behalf of the
people and for the benefit of the world. When
he does so, as all know who have had experience
in this relationship, it knits him and them to-

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGEESS

getlier in the bonds of a most delightful fellow-
ship. The Christian ministry, however, is not a
form of activity which has been conquered and
brought into subjection to the Christian spirit;
it was rather a special creation of that spirit.
Not so the work of teaching. That has been
brought as a real conquest under the law of serv-
ice, chiefly by the influence of Christianity. The
man who now enters it for personal gain or for
selfish reasons of any sort, is felt to be guilty of
a sacrilege. Its primary attraction is the rich
opportunity it offers for service. No one would
commit himself or a loved one to the tutelage
of a man who was known to be using the teaching
function for any narrower or more selfish end
than the improvement of his fellow-beings; and
many of the sweetest and strongest ties which
enrich human life are formed as a result of the
relation between teacher and pupil. Other occu-
pations also have been at least partially subjected
to this law. The occupation of the physician is
generally felt to be a form of service and is pur-
sued in that spirit by many of those who engage
in it, though the opportunities for gain which it
offers have prevented its being mastered by the
spirit of service as completely as it should be.
Or, perhaps, the fact that it has not been more
completely subjected to this law makes it possible
to use it so successfully as a gainful occupation.
In modern society the political function is the-
oretically a form of service, and the demand that

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INEQUALITY AND SERVICE

it shall be actually so is increasing. The occupa-
tions which are furthest removed from the sway
of this law and which in the thought of most
men lie quite beyond its jurisdiction, are the eco-
nomic. There the motive of gain is frankly domi-
nant, subject only to the limitation of common
honesty, and not always too scrupulously observ-
ant of that limitation.

It is obvious that those forms of activity in
the performance of which men are brought into
the fullest personal contact have been most thor-
oughly pervaded by the spirit of service. For
instance, the preacher, teacher and doctor in
their vocations are manifestly and consciously
working directly and centrally upon the person-
alities of those to whom they minister. The re-
lations between men in the economic sphere are
more partial and onesided, do not seem to involve
so fully and so centrally their personalities. At
any rate, whatever may be the explanation, the
economic activities have resisted more effectually
than other great social functions, the extension
of the law of service over them. And it is exactly
in those spheres where the law of service is not
acknowledged and obeyed that the great conflicts
rage. It is there that the inequalities of men
breed bitterness, hatred, war ; it is there that the
strong are trampling the weak and the weak are
grasping in desperation at violent means of relief.
It is there that the menacing form of wild anarchy
rises to disturb the peace of the victors in the

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

struggle, and to give the most convincing demon-
stration that the selfish use of personal powers,
and especially of superior powers, is anti-social
and destructive. Social peace and co-operation
can be secured only by the full acceptance of the
paradoxical principle of Jesus that the strong
shall serve the weak.

But two important questions confront us here.
The first is as to the righteousness of this prin-
ciple. Would it not involve a disastrous inver-
sion of values; would it not turn the very order
of nature upside down! Would it not result in
the sacrifice of the more valuable for the less
valuable? This specific question will be discussed
in the following chapter, and may be dismissed
here. The second question is as to the value of
conflict as a factor in the social process. Is not
conflict an indispensable condition of progress?
A plausible affirmative answer can be given. As
we have before noted, there are not wanting able
students of society who regard conflict as a most
important, if not the chief, agency in the upward
development of society. If this be true, the appli-
cation of a principle which would eliminate con-
flict would stop development and prove the great-
est of calamities. To go into this question thor-
oughly would take us too far afield. But in gen-
eral it may be said that social progress consists
in the development of an ever larger number of
individuals of an ever higher type. Now, what
effect has conflict between individuals upon per-

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sonal character! Clearly it stiniulates those
qualities which are brought into play in offensive
or defensive action, such as strength, alertness,
concentration, shrewdness, deceit, physical pa-
tience and courage, etc. A moment's considera-
tion is sufficient to convince one that the higher
ethical qualities are not stimulated and developed
in a fight between two men. On certain levels of
being individual conflict may be a means of de-
veloping a higher type, but not so among beings
who have fully attained to the moral level. When
the conflict is between groups it stimulates in the
members of the group such qualities as group
loyalty, the sense of community of interest, the
spirit of co-operation and mutual aid. It diverts
attention from the conflict of interests within the
group and focalizes it upon that which they have
in common, and so develops a consciousness of
dependence upon one another. At the same time
with respect to members of opposing groups it
develops all the lower passions. Its effect is,
therefore, partly good and partly bad ; that is to
say, it is good only in so far as it develops the
spirit of fraternity and extends the area of har-
monious and mutually helpful co-operation. How,
then, could the extension of the law of fraternal
service over the whole field arrest social prog-
ress?

To avoid a possible misunderstanding, it
should be observed that the elimination of conflict,
in the sense in which the term is here used, would

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not at all involve universal agreement in thought.
Disagreement and opposition in thinking are a
necessary result of personal differentiation and
must abound more and more ; but when the motive
of service manifestly controls the will, contention
in the sphere of thought, being uncontaminated
by base passion and motived by the desire to pro-
mote truth, which is a universal good, is alto-
gether stimulating in its effect upon personal de-
velopment. When, however, intellectual disagree-
ment degenerates into personal or group conflict,
as it has often done — falling like Lucifer from
heaven to hell — it has strange power to arouse
baser passion and turn the energies which it re-
leases toward destruction. Some incidental or
secondary benefits may, indeed, result from it in
the way of disturbing the equilibrium of a static
society and indirectly setting in motion con-
structive processes. But such benefits are pur-
chased at high cost.

It is evident that conflict is wasteful. This
result is so manifest in international and civil
war that the economic spirit makes a more ef-
fective protest than any other influence against
war; and yet the economic hfe itself has been
the sphere of perpetual conflict which is just as
wasteful. It needs no demonstration that a group
of men who are working together, each giving
himself without reserve to the common good, will
accomplish more than the same group when each
is working for his own advantage as distinguished

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INEQUALITY AND SERVICE

from the common good and consuming much of
his time and energy in guarding his private in-
terests against the encroachment of others, or
pressing his own interests to the detriment of
others. Certainly a thorough application of the
law of ser\dce would eliminate this waste and con-
secrate the total energy of society to the advance-
ment of all.

The ethical principle of service as taught by
Jesus would, therefore, while affording to the
forces and processes of differentiation the largest
and freest possible playroom, fully integrate so-
ciety and utilize in positive and constructive effort
all the varified and unequal powers of humanity
for the development of the race. Mankind will
get well started in the way of progress only when
this principle has become the organic law of so-
ciety, inspiring its ideals and dominating all its
activities. Inequality will exist ; as concerns per-
sonal capacity, it will be a more pronounced fact
than it is now ; but it will not lead to oppression.
The superiority of some will not bar the way to
self-realization for others, but will rather open
to them the doors of higher possibilities; and
the strongest cohesive force in society will be the
clasped hands of the strong and the weak. Such
a society will be the strongest and most progres-
sive conceivable. Its solidarity will not be like
that of primitive society. It will be most highly
specialized; but all the highly specialized and un-
equal powers will be knit together by mutual

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

helpfulness. It will be infinitely stimulating to
personality, and will not purchase the advance-
ment of some at the cost of the degradation of
others. For on the moral level of life tiiis in-
evitably ends in the degradation of all and the
weakening of the entire body. The special powers
of everyone will be capitalized as a value for all.
Every increment of strength by which one ele-
vates himself over his fellows will be an addi-
tional strand in the cable by w^hich those whom
he has risen above will be lifted upward. It will
be the only rational organization of human so-
ciety.

156

CHAPTER V

SELF-EEALIZATION AND SELF-DENIAL

Every organism normally seeks not only to per-
petuate, but to fulfill its life. It seems also to
be a general fact that the higher in the scale of
being the organism stands, the more pronounced
is its desire for self -development and the more the
value of life seems to lie in the process of growth.
If an organism has only a feeble impulse to
realize its potentialities, it is because they are
small, or because it is already in the process of
dissolution. The desire to be strong and fully
developed, to bring into actual exercise all latent
capacities, seems to lie in the very nature of
organic life and is strongest in man, the highest
conscious organism of which we have knowledge.
Doubtless the impulse to self-realization is only
the vague striving of germinal possibilities be-
neath the threshold of clear consciousness — the
upward pressure of the potential against the door
of the actual. Evidently, then, it can be sup-
pressed only by the destruction of life itself.

Now, the ethic of Jesus is sometimes inter-
preted as directly contradicting and tending to
suppress this fundamental impulse of life. Thus
Mr. Hobhouse says of Christianity: '^The con-
ception of a brotherhood of love based on the

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negation of self is demonstrably inadequate to
the problem of reorganizing society and intelli-
gently directing human efforts. Even on the per-
sonal side it is deficient, for human progress de-
pends upon the growth and perfecting of faculty
and therefore requires that provision be made for
self -development, which is not selfishness, but
builds a better personality on the basis of self-
repression.'' Such writers do not attribute to
Jesus the extreme pessimism of the Buddha, but
nevertheless understand Him to teach that the
way of salvation lies in self -mortification, whereas
every form of life, from the lowest to the highest,
cries out with an increasingly passionate demand
for self-expression. Not self -diminution, but self-
enlargement is the law of life; not the throwing
of one's self away in a fanatical self-immolation
for others — ^in which, if all men were to engage,
the result would be a moral reductio ad ahsurdum
on a colossal scale; but a wise and sane striving
after the fullest enrichment of one's self — ^in
which, if all should engage, the largest possible
sum of social good would be realized.

Is this opposition between the teaching of
Jesus and the teaching of nature real? In the
first place, some of the most notable sayings of
Jesus cannot possibly be squared wdth this inter-
pretation of His doctrine. He stated His mission
in several forms which emphasize different phases
of it, but no statement in which He gave expres-
sion to it is more significant or striking than this :

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SELF-KEALIZATION AND SELF-DENIAL

**I am come that they might have life, and have
it abundantly." Surely there is no self -repres-
sion here. Fullness of life — that is the goal
toward which life is impelled. The upward or-
ganic impulse, becoming ever more intense and
definitely conscious as the scale of being is
ascended, seems to find its first adequate, clear,
fully conscious utterance in the words of the great
Teacher as He defines His mission, which thus
appears to be to bring to its realization on the
level of humanity this universal striving of life
for more life. He correlates His work with the
central process of nature. In the parables of the
talents and the pounds the same lesson is taught
from a different point of view. He there empha-
sizes the duty of the individual through appro-
priate activity to develop to the utmost his spe-
cial capacities, which in His view are endowments
bestowed by God. According to this view, the
moral significance of life lies precisely in the de-
velopment of one's powers or gifts; and the re-
ward for the performance of this duty consists
both in the increase of capacities and the enlarge-
ment of the sphere of their use. Surely there is
nothing here that is opposed to nature — nothing
that has not become a commonplace of science,
unless it be the religious conception of personal
powers as divinely given ; and if one assumes that
the scientific and religious interpretations of phe-
nomena are essentially opposed, he has already
ceased to be scientific and become metaphysical

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PEOGRESS

and dogmatic. Then lie needs to be reminded that
the metaphysical dogmatism that denies is not so
well validated by far as the theological dogmatism
which affirms the religions interpretation of the
universe.

But there must be some element in the doc-
trine of Jesus the misunderstanding of which has
led to this erroneous interpretation of Him. For
we must remember that it is not the unsympa-
thetic critics alone that have misconceived Him,
but many of those who were, we must believe,
honestly seeking to follow Him have fallen into
a similar mistake, a mistake which in many cases
has had most lamentable consequences in their
lives. That element is His strong and oft-repeated
injunction to self-denial. ^^If any man will come
after me, let him deny himself and take up his
cross and follow me. ^ ' The ^ ^ cross ' ' is the symbol
of a most humiliating and painful death. He Him-
self suffered physical crucifixion ; and as a result
both of His teaching and of the manner of His
death, the cross has become the symbol of Chris-
tian experience. Christian experience, then, it
would seem, is the giving of one's self to a pain-
ful personal death, a self-immolation. Instead of
holding before men the ideal of the personahty
developed into the highest possible richness and
fullness and freedom in all its factors — physical,
mental, spiritual — Jesus places an exaggerated
and fanatical emphasis upon the spiritual, which
leads to the despising of the physical and the

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SELF-REALIZATION AND SELF-DENIAL

neglecting of the mental, and thus to the distor-
tion of the personality, or at least a one-sided
and abnormal development of it. He exalts self-
abnegation to the supreme place among the vir-
tues, and stresses humility until it fatally relaxes
the springs of personal ambition and arrests per-
sonal self-assertion. He praises the virtues of
the weak, and pronounces His most comforting
beatitudes upon the failures in the struggle for
life. This is to turn topsy-turvy the whole order
of nature and to put a brake upon the wheel that
carries life up the long and painful slope toward
perfection. So these critics of the Christian ethic
have reasoned. And it must be admitted that
there is a real paradox here.

To resolve this apparent contradiction in His
teaching it is necessary to find some principle
which correlates these phases of His doctrine ; and
it is not hard to find. He states the principle
Himself in language which, while not scientific,
can hardly be made more precise in meaning by
scientific formulation — **For whosoever will save
his life shall lose it; but whosoever will lose his
life for my sake, the same shall save it ; for what
is a man advantaged if he gain the whole world
and lose himself, or be a castaway!" *^He that
findeth his life shall lose it ; and he that loseth his
life for my sake shall find it." **Give and it shall
be given unto you; good measure pressed down
and shaken together and running over shall men
give into your bosom. For with the same measure

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you
again. '^ In different forms and applications this
paradox appears throughout His teaching. He
rings the changes upon it. It is manifest that it
is a central principle of His thought. A more
pretentious scientific formulation than He gives
it would be: Self-realization comes by self-sacri-
fice for others. Is this true? Can it be scien-
tifically validated? Is it in accord with human
experience? Let us see.

For a being who has attained the moral level
of existence, progress in the unfolding of the per-
sonality must consist in developing and bringing
all the energies of his nature into more perfect
unity and . co-operation under the highest ethical
law which he knows; or, what amounts to the
same thing, toward the highest end which he can
conceive. This proposition does not seem to need
any demonstration. What, then, is the highest
end a man can set for himself? Is it the glory of
God, according to the old creed, or, as it would
most likely be now stated, the fulfillment of the
will of God in his life? We venture to say that
this means concretely that his efforts must be
directed either to his own personal development
to the maximum or to the bringing of other human
personalities to the realization of their greatest
possible strength and joy. Or is it some super-
personal, universal end — the advancement of the
universe toward the attainment of some distant

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SELF-REALIZATION AND SELF-DENIAL

goal of perfection? This again will resolve itself
concretely into working for the advancement
either of one^s self or of others in the higher
possibilities of human nature.

The question then is, should a man find
his supreme end in himself or in others! It
is obvious that the chief moral problem of
life grows out of this antithesis of two ends,
each of which claims the devotion of one's ener-
gies. They seem to be antithetical in thought
and often inconsistent in practice; and one's eth-
ical theory, as well as one's moral conduct, will
be fundamentally determined by the manner in
which he correlates these ends. The ethic of
Jesus is chiefly distinguished from others by his
peculiar way of correlating them. In his thought
their opposition is unreal, illusory. They are
always really identical, or at least consistent with
one another. If one in the pursuit of his own
interests finds himself running counter to the
interests of others, he may be sure that some-
thing is wrong either in his moral principle or
in its application. One cannot be truly advancing
his own personal development if he is at the
same time hindering the personal advancement of
another. More than this, he cannot be bringing
himself up toward the fullness of life if he is
neglecting to do anything in his power to bring
others up toward the fullness of life. The whole
problem of growing out of the opposition of these

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

ends is thrust aside as having its roots in a mis-
conception of the nature of the self or in the
method of self-realization.

Can this \iew of Jesus be scientifically vah-
dated? The basic truth of modern sociology is
that the indi\ddual is a function of the group.
This means that the group is not simply an ad-
dition or spatial aggregation of individuals, but
is, so to speak, a multiplication of the individuals
into one another. The individual realizes him-
self in and through group-relations. If an indi-
vidual is added to a group he does not simply
**make one more.'' The whole situation is
changed by his coming into it. As soon as the
new-comer enters and begins to take his part in
its life his influence reacts upon all the individuals
composing it, modifjdng their dispositions, activi-
ties and reactions upon one another. If he is a
weak personality and the group is a large or a
highly organized one, his modifying influence will
probably be small, though it mil be real. Roughly
it may be said that Ms modifying influence will
be conditioned, first, by the ratio of his personal
force to the volume and organization of the col-
lective life; and, second, by the character of the
specific role wliich he plays in it. On the other
hand, it is also true that he will be modified in
his disposition and acti^dty by the reaction of all
the others upon him. The bringing of a new in-
dividual into a group subtly changes the life of all

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SELF-REALIZATION AND SELF-DENIAL

within it, including his own. If this sociological
principle is true — and the investigation of social
facts confirms it more and more strongly — the
corresponding ethical principle must be that each
man is at one and the same time an end in him-
self and a means to personal ends outside him-
self. In other words, his life must be considered
as an end to himself at the same time that it is
working as a means in other lives. If, when his
action has reference to himself as an end, he in-
jures any interest of those associated with him,
he will also injure his own interests, since he is
an integral part of the group and is influenced
by all that influences the other members of it.

But it may be objected that this argument
assumes an identity of or a parallelism between
the interests of each individual and the interests
of the group which does not in fact exist. Does
not the collective interest sometimes require the
over-riding of the interests of individuals 1 Take
the extreme case of war, for instance. If the
individual is required to give up his life for the
success of his country, is there not the most direct
and uncompromising conflict between the indi-
vidual and collective interests? When the prop-
erty of the individual is taken against his will
and devoted to public uses, where then is the
identity or parallelism of interests! It must be
confessed that it is not always easy in concrete
cases to perceive it, and is especially difficult for

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

the person in question; but if we look a little
deeper we shall find that the conflict is not as
obvious as it at first appears.

In the first place, we must distinguish between
real and mistaken interests, both individual and
collective. You may desire or prize something
very much which is a real injury to you. It is
an ** interest," in the technical sense of the word,
in the fact that it is desired or prized ; but actually
it may be of no advantage to you at all. What
is here meant by a real interest is that which
promotes self-realization, the development of the
personality in the direction of its maximum rich-
ness and power ; and by a mistaken or unreal in-
terest is meant that which, though it may afford
satisfaction of some kind, hinders the upward and
outward expansion of the personality; and it is
obvious that a similar distinction may exist be-
tween the interests of a community.

Now, limiting our consideration to advantages,
actually vahd interests, let us consider the ex-
treme case in which the individual is required to
offer his life for the common welfare. Suppose
that he declines ; or, to be concrete, suppose that
he deserts and succeeds in making his escape. He
keeps his physical life ; but what is the effect upon
his personality? Has his life not depreciated in
value, almost to the zero point? How much is
the life of a cowardly deserter worth? Let any
man of normal moral constitution deliberately
choose between saving his life by desertion and

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SELF-REALIZATION AND SELF-DENIAL

loyally yielding it up as a sacrifice in defence of
the vital interests of Ms country. Our very in-
stincts tell us that our true interests are realized
in the latter way. If this is true in regard to the
extreme case, may we not assume that it would
be true in all other cases of apparent conflict?
The individual is linked up with the group so inti-
mately, so inextricably, that if you should suc-
ceed in disentangling the single thread of his life
from the complicated web of group-relations you
would strip it of all significance, all content, all
value. He cannot have any real interest that is
even independent of the general interest, much
less opposed to it.

If now we turn from the consideration of the
relation of the individual to the total or collective
interest, and think of the direct relations of in-
dividuals to one another, the truth of our con-
tention is just as apparent. Can one individual
advance his own real interest by violating the
real interests of another? Again, let an extreme
case be examined. Two men meet in deadly con-
flict ; one must die at the hands of the other. The
party attacked slays the other in self-defence, or
the attacking party murders the other. Is there
not here an absolute opposition of interests? In
the case where homicide is committed in self-
defence, the aggressor loses his life. But suppose
that instead of losing his life he had succeeded
in taking the other man's. Would he have con-
served or promoted any real interest of his own?

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

Certainly not. The murderer injures himself
more than he does his victim. But if the party
attacked kills in self-defence, does he not inflict
an injury on another in the very act of taking
care of his own interests? Superficially it seems
so ; but was not the supreme injury inflicted upon
the would-be murderer by himself when in the
spirit of murder he sought the life of another?
Had he not destroyed his own life in so far as
its essential worth was concerned! To say the
least, then, it is only in a qualified sense that the
man who is acting in defence of his own life really
violates the interest of his murderous assailant
in slaying him. On the other hand, it is also true
that he has conserved his own real interest only
in a qualified sense; for however justifiable his
act may be, his life is ine\4tably clouded by it.
It is even a question with many sensitive con-
sciences whether they would, if called upon to
choose deliberately between the alternatives, pre-
fer to die at the hands of an assailant or to take
the assailant's life. There is no real conflict of
interests that justifies the existence of this hostile
relationship ; and when it arises, it is impossible
to conserve without qualifications the interest of
either party. Of course, there is danger in the
analysis of such moral situations of falling into
vain casuistry, a sort of moral hair-splitting ; but
it is none the less true that a close study of the
ultimate moral meaning of the relations and re-
actions between individuals shows that there is

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SELF-REALIZATION AND SELF-DENIAL

no real opposition of interests. Whoever injures
another will in the long run be found to have
injured himself quite as seriously, or perhaps far
more so.

The solution of the problem of conflicting in-
terests will be clearer when considered in con-
nection with the principle stated in a previous
paragraph. It was said there that progress in
the development of personality consists in bring-
ing all the energies of one's life into more per-
fect harmony and co-operation toward the reali-
zation of the highest end of his being. There
is a hierarchy of interests in every man's life.
The lower interests are real only in so far as they
contribute to the promotion of the interests that
stand in the scale above them. To a being of
spiritual capacity, the sensuous satisfactions are
not interests, except as they form the basis of or
contribute toward the realization of his nobler
possibilities. Food and shelter and clothing, all
physical comforts, personal gratifications of every
sort, even intellectual attainments and pleasures,
should relate themselves to the development of
the life in its liighest ranges. If these subordinate
interests are pursued in a way to hinder the ex-
pansion of the life on higher levels they become
injurious. They cease to be real interests. When
the individual is developed up to the point of
realizing the higher values, those higher values
become regnant. They take up into themselves
all the lower values. Every conflict of interests

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

is really a conflict between a subordinate and a
superior interest of the individual in question;
or between a secondary interest of the individual
and a primary interest of the group ; or between
a primary interest of the individual and a sec-
ondary interest of the group; or between a pri-
mary interest of one individual and a secondary
interest of another. And when any of these situ-
ations arise the secondary interest is no longer
a true, but a mistaken one.

Two men are engaged in a trade. Each of
them is seeking to gain an advantage over the
other. Are their interests in conflict? If atten-
tion be fixed upon immediate material gain, it
may be so ; because the material gain is then con-
sidered as a good in itself. It is viewed out of
its relation to the higher interest, and when so
viewed there may be an opposition between the
interests of the two men. But, if instead of fix-
ing attention upon this relative interest of gain
we fix it upon the highest values, it is clear that
the opposition disappears. The man who cheats
another has injured himself in an interest of his
life which is far more vital than material gain.
His love of gain has arrested the upward de-
velopment of his personality; he has sacrificed
his higher to his lower interests, and the lower
has ceased in the very act to be an interest at
all. The only kind of trade that can be morally
justified is that in which both parties are bene-
fitted, or in which one is benefitted and the other

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SELF-REALIZATION AND SELF-DENIAL

is at least not injured; and the same may
be said of every transaction between men. The
more clearly one grasps the moral implication
of the sociological principle that every individual
is a function of the group of which he is a mem-
ber, the clearer will it become that there is no
real opposition between the real interests of men.
If the conflict actually occurs, it is because one
or both of the conflicting interests is mistaken
and false.

The failure to consider the specific and partial
interests in their relation to the general hierarchy
of interests is apt to lead to confusion in ethical
thought. One of our most brilliant sociologists
has declared : * ^ It is demonstrably untrue that we
thrive only when the group thrives; that so en-
tangled are we in the network of relations we
cannot fare well when the social body fares ill;
that labour for the corporate welfare pays the
best dividends. . . . The lot of the individual
is sufficiently apart from the group for him to
snatch an ill-gotten gain for himself just as a
man may profitably cheat his government even
though he raises his taxes thereby." This is, of
course, true if one is thinking of specific material
interests apart from their relations and signifi-
cance within the total hierarchy of one 's interests.
It amounts to nothing more than the affirmation
of the fact, which nobody can deny, that men
often do anti-social deeds without being punished
by civil law and perhaps mthout being very pain-

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

fully lashed by their own consciences ; but no one
surely would maintain that the individual is not
injured by those acts in the total interest of his
life. If men can do wrong deeds without injuring
vital interests of their own, the very foundation
of the moral sanctions is destroyed.

An interesting and extremely important ques-
tion arises in this connection. Does this ethical
principle hold not only as between individuals
within a group and as between individuals and
the group, but also as between groups themselves!
Can group conflict be ethically justified? If there
is danger of falling into a sort of casuistical hair-
splitting in considering the simple relations which
have been under discussion, it is much greater in
dealing with this problem; for the collective uni-
ties involved cannot be considered as single enti-
ties, but as bearers of all the individual interests
of their constituents. But, avoiding over-refine-
ment of analysis, it seems possible to show that
the principle is valid in the relations between
bodies of men. If we contemplate the groups
below the human level, it appears evident that
among them progress has come chiefly by con-
flict. Wild animal species war against one an-
other; the stronger prevails and annihilates or,
more frequently, eats up the weaker. The law
of the survival of the fittest in its crudest form
prevails — the fittest under such conditions mean-
ing those most able to take care of themselves in
the bloody war. And progress comes along that

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SELF-REALIZATION AND SELF-DENIAL

gory path. Sociologists tell us that in the early-
ages of the world it was customary among men
also for the conquerors to exterminate the con-
quered ; and this practice is attributed, in part at
least, to the limited food supply. Men had not
attained to a sufficient mastery over nature to
know how to increase the natural productivity
of the earth, and hence the clans and tribes were
forced into a deadly struggle for natural fruits.
Later, when they had learned better how to direct
natural forces so as to increase the food supply,
the institution of slavery grew up as a substitute
for the practice of extermination. With improve-
ment in their economic technique they began to
perceive, however dimly, that their interests were
not utterly opposed; that a form of adjustment,
involving in some measure the principle of com-
munity of interest, was both possible and desir-
able. They saved their captives alive instead of
putting them to death, and subjected them to
slavery. This was a great step forward — one of
the most notable stages of progress. To spare
the life of the conquered was found advantageous
to the triumphant group.

It was due only to ignorance that their in-
terests had appeared absolutely irreconcilable.
First, it was their economic ignorance. If they
had only known how to develop the resources of
nature, the scarcity of food, so far from bringing
them into absolute conflict, would only have tended
to make apparent tlie advantages of co-operation

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

and the real parallelism of their interests. In the
second place, it was their ignorance of the fact
that social life is enriched by the contact and
interaction of different racial and cultural types.
Slavery, after it had been instituted, was found
to have the advantage that, besides substituting a
form of social adjustment for extermination, it
brought variant human types into living relations
with one another, and so resulted in the general
enrichment of social life. It was in fact a recog-
nition, though doubtless not a fully conscious
recognition, of a community of interests. And
yet there is every reason to believe that, although
the economic motive was the dominant one, moral
considerations were not wholly absent. It is ex-
tremely probable that in saving captives alive in-
stead of putting them to death, an ethical motive
was present. It was the first germination of inter-
national morality.

Since that time inter-group morality has con-
tinued to develop and the community of interests
between groups has become increasingly con-
scious. It has manifested itself in the abatement
of the rigours of war. The conflict between nations
has become more and more humane. By slow
degrees warring peoples have come to respect, in
increasing measure, one another's interests. I do
not mean to say that this increasing humaniza-
tion of war has been steady, but, on the whole,
such has been the trend. At first it was not per-
ceived that extermination was in the interest

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neither of the conquerors nor the conquered ; and
slowly, oh, so slowly, step by step, men have come
to question more and more — ^while the long ages
resounded with the monotonous clash of arms,
with the groans of dying men and the shrieks of
violated women and the piteous cries of little chil-
dren— whether it was not all an awful, tragical
blunder! Little by little the cruel inhumanities
of war have been abated; and now the awakened
conscience of the modern world confidently chal-
lenges the wisdom and righteousness of the whole
horrible practice. We are beginning to see that
it is unjustifiable because not based on a real an-
tagonism of interests. As the life of man has
grown upward, group conflicts have been softened ;
the more enlightened the human conscience be-
comes, the more reprehensible does the warlike
clash appear. When human life comes thoroughly
under the control of reason, the futility and ab-
surdity of war will become so manifest that no
sane man will be found to raise his voice in its
favour.

Social progress has coincided with the grow-
ing perception of the community of interests as
between bodies of men as well as between indi-
viduals. In maintaining this contention it is not
necessary at all to deny that in some ways group
conflict has promoted social progress ; but in what
sense is that true f Has it not served a good pur-
pose chiefly, if not exclusively, because it has
taught men the value of co-operation? It has

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

been a hard school in wliicli men have learned
through bitter and wasteful experience the su-
premely important lesson that their interests do
not really conflict. It has compelled men to think
more deeply upon those situations in which their
interests seemed to be irreconcilable. And under
that stress they have come to see ever more clearly
how those interests can be so adjusted as not only
to be conserved, but developed to ever higher
values. Given the conditions, subjective and ob-
jective, in which mankind began its career in the
world, and conflict was unavoidable ; but age-long
experience in conflict has taught men that their
interests can be conserved and promoted only in
conjunction with the interests of their fellow-men.
The same conclusion is reached if we approach
the question from the direction of social psy-
chology. There is space for only a brief con-
sideration of the matter from this point of view.
The personality or the self is organized in and
through experience. By experience we mean the
reactions of the human being upon his environ-
ment. In the organization of personality through
experience two processes go on. First, increasing
individualization. At the beginning no two human
organisms are exactly alike. They differ in their
physiology. These differences constitute the
physical bases of individuality. And then the
environment of no two persons is exactly alike.
Hence, as the biological organism is peculiar in
some respects and the environment is peculiar in

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SELF-REALIZATION AND SELF-DENIAL

some respects, the experience must be peculiar;
and the personality which is organized in this
experience mil be jjeculiar ; and as it is more and
more highly organized through a continuing series
of experiences, each of which is in some respects
unhke those of any other person, it will become
more and more clearly and definitely differenti-
ated from all others. But, on the other hand, these
organisms are at the start alike in general out-
line of organization, notwithstanding their differ-
ences. Their differences consist in the singular
way in wliich the biological elements and proc-
esses are correlated in them. Moreover, the en-
vironments of individuals, while they differ in
many particulars, are also in their general out-
lines similar ; so that the experiences of different
human beings — while each is unique — are also
much alike. Thus the chief differential factor in
these various personalities is the peculiar corre-
lation in each of elements which are specifically
different yet generically alike. The difference lies
more in the organization of the elements than in
the elements themselves.

The second process which goes on step by step
with the preceding is the development of those
mental processes by which one is able to repre-
sent to himself the experiences of others. The
increasing number of mental images is organized
into systems of ideas ; and along w^th this higher
intellectual organization the life of feeling be-
comes more refined and varied. By means of this

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

more Mghly developed mental life we can enter
into the experiences of others and interpret them.
More properly speaking, we translate the experi-
ences of others into our own experience in so far
as those experiences are similar to our own. We
suffer and enjoy vnth others; we sympathize.
Unless this normal process is arrested and crys-
talUzation takes place on a lower level, the point
will be reached, either somewhat suddenly in a
crisis or by gradual transition, where it is quite
impossible to be happy while others who are
within the circle of one 's knowledge are unhappy.
At the same time, by reason of this development
the circle of one's knowledge and sympathy is
continually broadening. It embraces first the
circle of persons with whom we stand in the most
immediate relation and continually expands to in-
clude wider circles ; and at the same time that the
range of sympathy is extending, its intensity is
deepening. In this way it comes to pass that every
great personality finds his happiness indissolubly
linked up with the happiness of a vast number of
his fellow-beings. His happiness rises or falls
with theirs. We may formulate it as a sort of
law, thus: Self-development and a consciousness
of the community of one's interests with others
proceed together. They are only different phases
of the same general process.

The actual conflicts between persons are often
supposed to be the necessary result of the indi-
vidualizing process described above. As a man

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SELF-REALIZATION AND SELF-DENIAL

becomes more individualized lie is supposed to
insist upon pursuing his own ends without let or
hindrance by other persons. But if he thus in-
sists, not only on living his own life in his own
way for his own ends, but on doing it in a way
inconsistent with the interests of others, that ex-
cessive egoism must hinder the expansion of the
sympathetic side of his nature. And this must
have a hurtful effect upon the development of the
mental processes, both intellectual and emotional,
in which sympathy has its origin. It thus arrests
the upward development of the personality and
at the same time the process of individualization.
As a matter of fact, the selfish person is either
one whose mental functions have not yet been or-
ganized into a unity and whose inner life is there-
fore archaic, or one whose moral life has been
organized into a unity around some lower prin-
ciple— such, for instance, as sensuous pleasure or
the love of money — and who therefore should
properly be considered as a simple case of ar-
rested development or as a pervert. In this way
he may be in some sense individualized, though
as a matter of fact such persons belong to well-
defined types, all whose specimens are, as a rule,
monotonously similar.

From whatever direction, therefore, we ap-
proach the problem scientifically, the principle
of Jesus seems to be confirmed. Human interests
are not really inconsistent one with the other.
The interest of all is the interest of each; and

179

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

moral progress, individual and collective, lies ex-
actly in the progressive conscious realization of
this community of interests. To the developed
moral individuality it is impossible to find satis-
faction in any form of activity, or any form of
possession or of achievement which hurts the in-
terests of others ; and that is because their inter-
ests, properly understood, are coincident with his
own. He finds his highest satisfaction rather in
the promotion of the interest of others, because
their well-being is his interest. The self, the ful-
fillment of which constitutes his highest end, has
made the interest of others central. Herein lies
the explanation of the paradox of Jesus — self-
realization by self-sacrifice. By self-sacrifice,
therefore, is not meant self -mortification or self-
destruction, but the putting forth of the energies
of self into other lives and finding self-realization
in so doing.

Much space has been given to this somewhat
technical and dry discussion of the scientific im-
plications of this great doctrine, because it has
become quite the fashion in certain circles to treat
the ethic of Jesus as that of a somewhat naive
and unsophisticated person, as therefore unsuited
to this complex and scientific life which we live
to-day, and to demand a new ethic based upon
the findings of the great sciences of Sociology and
Psychology. And that issue must be met by those
who believe that these sciences, instead of giving
birth to a new and better morality, will rather

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SELF-REALIZATION AND SELF-DENIAL

bring an additional confirmation of and a clearer
insight into the teaching of Jesus about human
relations. What is needed to-day is not the rele-
gation of that teaching to a past age, but the study
of its deeper implication and the practice of it
in its broader applications. That past age did
not exhaust its meaning; the social experience of
the modern world was needed in order to dis-
cover a richer content of meaning in it than the
past had even suspected.

We are now in a position to estimate properly
the bearing of the ethical doctrine of Jesus upon
the question of personal ambition. Does He dis-
courage it I He certainly does not. By implica-
tion, He stamps it with approval. He only gives
it a direction which renders it wholly beneficial
in its social effects. ' ' If any man would be great
among you, let him be your servant." Mani-
festly this is not a harsh, disciplinary measure of
repression intended to root out the natural desire
of any capable person to be great. On the con-
trary, it justifies this natural desire and points
out the way by which it can be gratified so as to
promote the interests of all. Slowly but surely
the enlightened conscience is coming to accept His
method as the only truly practicable one.

As the population becomes more dense and
men are more closely crowded together; as
social relations become more numerous and
highly organized, and men become more inter-
dependent, it is evident that the prizes of

181

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

ambitious strength become more alluring while
the social dangers of selfish ambition become
greater. It becomes more apparent, therefore,
that the method of satisfying ambition de-
scribed by Jesus is the only safe one. Hence
it is that in certain spheres it has come to be
clearly recognized as a fundamental principle that
the great man must be a public servant. There
is a growing demand that in all spheres men shall
gratify their ambition by serving the people. The
real issue which is at the heart of the social agi-
tations of the present day is that this principle
shall actually prevail in our political and eco-
nomic life. There are not wanting multitudes of
short-sighted people who insist that the appUca-
tion of this principle to economic activities would
cut the tap-root of personal ambition and slow
down the whole process of economic production.
It is hard to be patient in combating such a view.
Those who hold it are, no doubt, honest; but it
is difficult to see how it is possible seriously to
maintain it. Experience demonstrates that in
those spheres of life where the law of service has
been partially applied it has not had such disas-
trous effects. Does it repress or discourage the
ambitions of men in political life to insist that al-
dermen, mayors, governours, congressmen, presi-
dents should really be public servants and thus
gratify their personal ambitions ? If so, it is dis-
couraging only to those who ought to be elimi-
nated from public life for the public good. Re-

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SELF-REALIZATION AND SELF-DENIAL

cent history has exhibited a few examples of the
salutary effect which it has had.

But when it is suggested that the same
principle should apply to the vast commercial
and industrial activities of our time, the propo-
sition is received by many men with ridicule
or indignation; as if there were something in
the very nature of economic activity which
necessitates and consecrates greed; as if it were
possible for human nature to walk upright in
every other department of life, but only pos-
sible for it to crawl upon its belly in that one.
But the change is coming. It must come. It is
possible for men to find in economic service rather
than in gain the satisfaction of their personal
ambitions. It is only necessary that the atmos-
pheric change in the ideals of men, which is al-
ready beginning to be felt, shall sweep over that
great section of life as over every other, and then
men of exceptional business capacity will feel the
''inward call" to serve the world with that ca-
pacity, and find in so doing a satisfaction of per-
sonal ambition which will have in it no moral
sting.

183

PART II
APPLICATION OF PRINCIPLES

CHAPTER I

WEALTH CEKTAIN PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS

This is not a treatise on economics, and hence
it is not necessary to enter into any fine-spun dis-
tinctions. But it is well to have some under-
standing as to what certain words mean in the
discussion. The first of these is ** wealth." In
this discussion it means simply material things
which are available as a means of satisfying hu-
man wants. A more extended and critical defini-
tion for present purposes would doubtless be more
confusing than illuminating. Some definite sig-
nificance should also be attached to the terms
* ^ rich ' ' and ^ * poor ' ' and ^ ^ riches ' ' and * * poverty. ' '
Their meaning is relative ; each gets its meaning
from contrast with its opposite, in relation to the
total wealth of society. In general we mean by
a ^^rich man" one who has a store of accumu-
lated wealth more than sufficient to supply all per-
sonal or family needs according to the standard
of living in liis community, and enough to afford
a reasonable guarantee that all such needs will
continue to be abundantly satisfied. Of course,
no such guarantee can be absolute. There is al-
ways the possibility of a reversal of fortune that
will bring want ; but there are some, and in modern
society an increasing number, to whom this pos-

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

sibility is a very remote one. ''Poverty" means
not merely the absence of an abundance, but the
dependence upon one 's daily labour for the means
of life. In modern technical usage it is usually
applied only to a state of destitution. Of course,
there are many gradations of riches and poverty.
In the use of the words we usually have in mind
those who are at or near the extremes of the
scale.

Before directing attention to the utterances of
Jesus concerning wealth, it is well to give atten-
tion to certain general considerations in the light
of which His words should be interpreted. First
among these are the economic conditions in the
midst of which He lived. Against this general
background it will be easier to understand His
words, which were called forth by specific situ-
ations. In no other way can we arrive at some
of the larger implications of His sayings. He
nowhere systematized His conceptions of wealth
and its right uses ; and we can do so only by con-
tinual reference from the particular cases with
which He dealt to the general conditions which
coloured all His thinking.

The total w^ealth of the society in which he
Hved was far less than that of the society in which
we live. Professor Patten tells us that we must
distinguish between a condition of *' social defi-
cit," in which there is hardly sufficient wealth, if
properly distributed, to maintain all the popula-
tion in a tolerable degree of comfort ; and a con-

188

WEALTH— CERTAIN CONSIDERATIONS

dition of ^ ' social plenty, ' ' in which the total wealth
is sufficient to maintain all in decency and afford
to all a chance to share in the higher values of
life, though this desirable end may, of course, be
defeated, even in a state of abundance, by in-
equitable distribution. Corresponding to the con-
dition of social deficit there is a ^^pain economy."
Life for the great masses of the people is hard
and bare and shadowed by continual want or the
danger of starvation. Suffering and hardship
abound, and are so common that the finer sensi-
bilities of men have but little opportunity to de-
velop. Men are less humane, and pity is rare.
Cruelty, or what seems cruelty to those who live
under different social conditions, is often prac-
ticed and does not so promptly or so generally
call forth condemnation. On the other hand, a
condition of plenty introduces a ^^ pleasure econ-
omy." Life becomes easier; comforts multiply
and are brought within the reach of an ever larger
proportion of the people. Men become less ac-
customed to hardship, want and pain, of the
physical kind at least. Under these milder con-
ditions of life the sensibilities become refined.
Men shrink from suffering ; the sight of suffering
in others becomes more intolerable, and the un-
necessary infliction of pain awakens the deepest
resentment. The changed economic conditions re-
act upon the whole mental and moral life and
effect a profound transformation of all human
ideals.

189

JESUS AND SOCIAL PEOGRESS

The same author tells us that **all civiliza-
tions before the nineteenth century, like the primi-
tive societies of the Western world to-day and the
backward despotisms of the East, were realms of
pain and deficit. ' ' The economic conditions under
which Jesus lived are well described by the phrase
* * social deficit. ' ' Poverty abounded. The masses
of the people lived near to the border line of want,
and many of them beyond it. This was not due
to the sterihty of the land. There is good evi-
dence that the country was for the most part
fertile, decidedly more so than it is now. The
population was dense. It has been estimated that
upon the eleven thousand square miles of Pales-
tine between three and five million people lived.
That would seriously tax the capacity of the soil
under any conditions; but it was well cultivated
and was not incapable of supporting such a popu-
lation in some degree of modest comfort, accord-
ing to the standards of living which prevailed
in that age.

Moreover, while commerce and industry were
not nearly so highly developed as they are in
modern Western countries, manufactures were
considerable and trade was brisk. The great
poverty of the people could not be charged
primarily to sloth, nor to the infertility of the
land, nor to the backwardness of economic de-
velopment, though that development was not such
as could, under any conditions, have produced af-
fluence. The most potent cause of the general

190

WEALTH— CERTAIN CONSIDERATIONS

poverty was not deficiency of production, though
according to the standards of hving in modern
Western countries it was sufficiently meager; but
was general social injustice. The distribution of
wealth was even more unrighteous than in modern'
society. Here and there were men who by fair
means or foul — and usually by the latter — accumu-
lated great fortunes and lived in affluence, stand-
ing like richly verdured oases in the midst of a
desert of want. The weak were the almost help-
less victims of the strong. They were practically
defenceless. They could be easily despoiled of
their few possessions; and there was no au-
thority which was interested in preventing their
spoliation. The country was wretchedly governed.
Order was not well preserved. Robbery was fre-
quent, and violence was restrained with a slack
hand. It was only the man who was able to police
his own property, so to speak, who could be sure
of keeping it. But if the government was weak
in protection, it was strong in taxation. The peo-
ple were frightfully overtaxed. It was the cus-
tom to farm out the taxes, and the tax-collectors
were not paid by the government. They had to
add their compensation to the tax-levy and col-
lect the two together. Only in a society of per-
fect men could this method be pursued without the
perpetration of injustice; and the tax-gatherers
of that day were far from being perfect. They
practiced a legal form of robbery; and, while all
classes suffered at their hands, it was practically

191

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

easier for them to fatten upon people of small
means than upon the rich and powerful, who could
in some measure defend themselves.

To complete this hasty sketch of the economic
status of the people, it should be added that em-
ployment was more irregular and insecure than
in our time. The vast extension and highly com-
plex specialization of industry in the modern
world may have their incidental disadvantages;
but industrial conditions are far more stable and
subject to fewer and less serious interruptions
than they were in the ancient world. The workers,
therefore, were then more uncertain as to the
continuity of their means of earning a living, and
when the doors of opportunity to work were closed
there were practically no agencies, organized or
unorganized, to come to their relief. The inse-
curity of employment is one of the most distress-
ing aspects of the modern industrial situation;
but there is no good reason to doubt that it was
worse in the Judea and Galilee of two thousand
years ago.

There is small wonder, then, that misery was
widespread. We can hardly imagine what a ter-
rible reality the conditions gave to the meaning
of the words Jesus taught His disciples to pray,
* ^ Give us this day our daily bread. ' ' These words
are often repeated now by persons who have no
proper realization of their significance. Living
in a stable social order, surrounded by accumu-
lations of capital for the protection of which

192

WEALTH— CERTAIN CONSIDERATIONS

mighty governments are primarily pledged, the
menace of real want is so far removed from the
modern well-to-do man that it hardly casts a faint
shadow upon his dreams; and even the poorest
are sensible of the fact that the kindness of
friends, the aid of benevolent associations, and,
in the last resort, the abundant strength of the
whole community usually stand between them and
utter want. But it was different with those to
whom Jesus uttered these words. Many of them
were ill-fed; few of them felt themselves to be
safely fortified against grim destitution ; life was
full of anxiety. They were deeply sensible of the
general wretchedness and of the injustice that was
so glaringly manifest on all sides. But whither
should they turn?

It is safe to say that the most conscientious
people were, as a rule, not among the most pros-
perous. Those who accumulated great wealth and
secured the high positions in social life under such
conditions were usually not encumbered Tvith in-
convenient scruples. The * ^ survival of the fittest ' '
does not mean the ascendency of the morally best,
except in an approximately perfect social order.
It simply means that those who are adapted to
a certain environment mil flourish in it. If the
environment is a morally bad one, it is not the
morally good who will the most easily flourish
in it. In the particular social environment we are
discussing Jesus did not * * survive ; ' ' and the most
conscientious were generally found amongst the
" 193

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

lowly. It would be extreme, of course, to say
that among the prosperous and highly placed
there were none who were morally worthy. Nico-
demus and Joseph of Arimathea, for instance,
seem to have been men of good character; and
others might be mentioned ; but even in their cases
the evidence shows that they found it prudent
not to follow too openly their better impulses. A
given social environment always ^^ selects'' and
brings into positions of power and leadership per-
sons of a corresponding type ; and that situation
tended to promote persons of a selfish and un-
scrupulous character. Many of the best people
were among the least fortunate. This fact was
especially confusing and distressing to the con-
science at that time. The ancient belief which
that generation had inherited was that the good
were prosperous, and vice-versa. In the more
primitive conditions of society this was usually
the case ; but the social conditions of that ancient
time in which this belief arose had passed and
it was no longer true, but rather the reverse. The
belief, however, lingered and added to the mental
distress which afflicted the conscientious poor.
Unrest, moral confusion and uncertainty, com-
plaint, recrimination, violence, anxiety were rife ;
and, while much of the suffering was dumb, the
general unhappiness of the times did not fail to
find expression. We are told that ^^an excursion
through the literature of the times is like passing
through Dante's Inferno, except that nowhere,

194

WEALTH— CERTAIN CONSIDERATIONS

as in the great Italian, appears any trace of that
divine pity which can always be recognized even
in uncompromising justice."

When Jesus came wdth His startling message
into the midst of a society like that, the popula-
tion soon divided in their attitude toward Him,
and the line of cleavage might easily have been
foreseen. With the announcement of the King-
dom of Heaven, John the Baptist prepared the
way for Him and brought the social significance
of His mission into the foreground. Jesus took
up the great phrase and immediately gave it a
meaning that arrested the attention of all classes.
He began at once to make it appear that the
Kingdom of God meant loving righteousness.
How sweetly the words fell on the ears of the
multitude who were ground down under social
injustice! And they had an ominous sound in
the ears of those who were the beneficiaries of
that injustice. But righteousness might have dif-
ferent meanings. The Pharisees prated of right-
eousness; but it did not disturb the complacency
of those who sat in high places and rested their
feet upon the people 's necks, since the Pharisees
themselves were among that number ; for it was a
righteousness of formal religion — the only sort of
religion that can live in peace vnth social injustice.
But it soon became apparent that Jesus meant
by the words not a mere seeking of divine favour
through empty ceremonies, and not a merely
negative thing like the non-entrenchment on an-

195

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

other's rights, but a positive virtue, the practice
of love between man and man. This conception
of righteousness is characteristic of the thought
of Jesus and is of capital importance in His teach-
ing. As soon as tliis innovation of Jesus became
apparent the powerful classes began to consoli-
date against Him, while the hungry and suffering
multitudes rallied to Him in great throngs that
hung eagerly upon His words. His broad and
intense sympathy cast a spell upon their hearts.
They dimly perceived in his utterances the prom-
ise of a new order of things in which all their
wrongs would be righted. They felt, or thought
they felt, the ground-swell of a social revolution,
and before their dazzled eyes there opened a new
era of plenty and security and peace.

Usually those who have succeeded in a given
social order resent *^ radical criticism'' of that
order, while those who have failed or who have
not prospered lend willing ears to suggestions
of change ; and we should not be swift to attribute
base motives in either case; at least, we should
remember that the interests of men inevitably
colour their honest opinions. At any rate, it is
clear that a feeling of the social import of the
message of Jesus was one of the potent causes
that determined the alignment of the people Avith
respect to Him. The Pharisees were impelled by
religious considerations; but their religion was
an integral part of the social order and was
closely identified with their social interests; so

196

WEALTH— CERTAIN CONSIDERATIONS

that it was not the religious motive pure and
simple that determined their attitude. Their re-
ligion was more to them than an honest conviction
or even a bhnd prejudice. They had worked out
an elaborate exposition of the law, especially of
those parts of it which pertained to gifts, until
the point was reached where none could observe
it fully according to their interpretation except
those who were well-to-do and had considerable
leisure. As ' * the virtuosos of Jewish piety ' * they
kept the law which they elaborated, even in
its minutiae, and must therefore have been pros-
perous; but their insistence upon ceremonialism
pushed into the background the ethical elements
of the law, which therefore rested lightly on their
consciences. Their love of the honour of men,
their materialism, their eager desire to be punctili-
ous in legal observance combined to make them
covetous, while their identification of righteous-
ness with ceremonial legalism removed the re-
straint of conscience from their lust for wealth.
They were among the most heartless oppressors
of the poor. Religious and economic values were
closely connected in their minds. They were
among the most notable beneficiaries of the exist-
ing social order. ^^A new order must arise on
new foundations, if once the religious sanction of
social relations came to an end. This the Phari-
sees dimly perceived.''

When a religion comes to be formalized, de-
spiritualized, divested of its idealism, adjusted to

197

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

the social situation and bound up mth other social
interests in a defensive alliance, it forms one of
the most effective forces of obstruction known in
human experience. Its officials instinctively re-
sist innovating tendencies, economic and political,
as well as religious, because a radical change in
any part of the general system renders insecure
their own prestige and power. It is true that
the Pharisees had no love for the political power
that governed Palestine. It was foreign and was
indifferent to their religious doctrines and prac-
tices. But they had effected a modus vivendi
with it and were wilhng to tolerate it so long as
it left undisturbed the general organization of
life and their privileged position therein. They
fought Jesus, not only because He attacked the
current rehgious ideals and practices, but be-
cause they sensed in His teaching a tendency
toward general social reconstruction ; and, in their
final and successful effort to accomplish His
death, they put forward a gross falsification of
His social teaching as a means of incriminating
Him in the eyes of the political authority. They
represented Him as seeking to throw off the
Roman yoke, which they must have known, or
certainly should have known, to be false; and in
which, if He had succeeded, they would have
heartily acquiesced, if His plan had been to
strengthen or leave undisturbed the religious-
economic system. But to avert a menace to that
they were quite willing to swallow their national

198

WEALTH— CERTAIN CONSIDERATIONS

pride and appeax for assistance to their foreign
political master.

The Sadducees represented the latitudinarian
tendency in religion. They were open to for-
eign influence and inclined to public life. Their
consciences were not greatly troubled by either
the ceremonial scruples of the Pharisees or
the ethical precepts of the law. They were
^'men of the world," the product of the positive
reaction of the Greek and Roman civilizations
upon the Jewish people. At this time they were
less influential than the Pharisees, whom they
hated, but were no less ambitious and grasping
and were generally prosperous. While perhaps
not so active in their opposition to Jesus as the
Pharisees — possibly because the Pharisees were
so active — they nevertheless were impelled by
their social instincts to join with them against
Him.

Thus those whose interests were bound up
with the existing social system stood aloof from
and united against the great Innovator. On the
other hand, the masses of the people, who had
little stake in things as they were and who were
deeply sensible of the reign of injustice, found
in Him their rallying point ; and their enthusiasm
was for a time so great as to intimidate His pow-
erful opponents, who did not strike Him down
sooner because they feared that to do so would
precipitate a revolution rather than avert one.

But it was not long before it became evident
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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

tliat the radical party did not fully understand
Him and began to waver in their attachment to
Him. Most of them were thinking of external
and superficial changes. They were radical, but
Jesus was more radical still. His diagnosis of
the situation Avas far more penetrating and thor-
ough than theirs. Doubtless all those who fol-
lowed Him were not drawn by the same motives.
Some of them thought that His purpose was to
cast out the Roman; others thought His aim was
economic rather than political; others seem to
have been attached to Him by the mighty spir-
itual magnetism of His personality, mthout any
definite conception of what He proposed; others
saw, though saw only dimly and brokenly, through
the medium of their prejudices and preposses-
sions, something of the spiritual significance of
His movement.

For His purpose and program were primarily
and distinctively spiritual. He came to set men
right mth God and, as a necessary part of that
process, to set them right with one another. His
purpose was religious, but religious not in any
narrow or technical sense. His plan was cosmic
rather than terrestrial; but if the cosmic or uni-
versal aspect of His mission may be contrasted
with an exclusively terrestrial conception of it, it
should also be distinguished from a merely
^* other-worldly" one. He was interested in man
as man, in the essential humanity of men; but
He was for that very reason interested in men

200

WEALTH— CERTAIN CONSIDERATIONS

as divided into races and classes; as rich and
poor, as respectable and despised; as exploiters
and exploited. For the abstract man does not
exist. Humanity, nnshaped by the conditions of
life, is a figment of the philosophical imagination.
His aim was purely spiritual; but the actual con-
ditions under which men live and the actual re-
lations which they sustain to one another pro-
foundly affect their spiritual lives. It is super-
ficial in the extreme to overlook this fact, and
Jesus was not guilty of it. His profound insight
into human nature and experience saved Him
from the mistake, which has so often vitiated
religious thought and practice, of treating the
religious life as distinct and separable from
the total life of men. He was no teacher of eco-
nomics, but He was profoundly interested in ques-
tions of poverty and wealth because — but only
because — the economic conditions of men react so
powerfully upon their spiritual lives. One of the
most significant facts in the life of our time is the
growing appreciation of the spiritual significance
of pohtical and economic conditions. On the one
hand, they arise out of and express the spiritual —
or unspiritual — attitudes of men; and, on the
other, determine these attitudes. Any effort to
deal with men spiritually without any reference
to their social status and economic condition is
shortsighted and inevitably proves in large meas-
ure abortive. It will surely end in a partial,
non-vital, technical conception of religion. An

201

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

effective spiritual program must take into con-
sideration the whole man in his concrete situation
and relations and seek to build him into a system
of life which includes and spiritualizes all human
relationships. Such was the program of Jesus.
There was in His thought no impassable gulf be-
tween ethics and religion. He lifted ethics into
the sphere of religion. Economic and political
relations were not, in His thought, foreign to re-
ligion. The curse of religion in His day was that
it had been specialized into a detached depart-
ment of life; and it has been the curse of or-
ganized religion in our time. One of His most
notable services to the world was to perceive and
insist upon the unity of a man's life and to teach
religion as a principle that should penetrate and
control it all.

Now, while it is true that the crowds which
followed Him understood Him but partially and
vaguely, and, when the final test came, fell away
because they did not fully grasp His purpose, it
is also true that the conditions of their life ren-
dered them as a class far more susceptible to His
influence than the rich and powerful and contented
classes, who, with a few notable exceptions, re-
pelled Him from the beginning. Among the
former He found His most important and most
numerous adherents. The chosen twelve, though
some of them certainly did not belong to *Hhe
property-less proletariat'* of the times, were as-
suredly not among the rich and influential citi-

202

WEALTH— CERTAIN CONSIDERATIONS

zens ; and the masses of those who then and later
were brought to a more permanent and intelli-
gent disciple ship were drawn from the lower-
middle and poorer classes of the population.
Their social situation had prepared them as good
soil for the seed of the Kingdom and made them
accessible to His spiritual conception of life.
Their hearts were more sensitive, their minds
more open. They had fewer prejudices in the
way, and they had less in the shape of personal
interests to surrender than the rich and powerful ;
and hence it was much less difficult to bring them
to perceive, appreciate and embrace the larger
spiritual thought and program of Jesus.

We may now turn to emphasize a certain prin-
ciple which must be continually borne in mind
in the interpretation of His words about wealth.
It is a manifest presupposition which lies back
of all His teaching that this is God's world; that
all things are made by God and rightly belong to
Him. This is not specifically declared by Him
in so many words, but it is an underlying as-
sumption of all that He says, as it was of Old
Testament thought in general. In coming to es-
tablish the Kingdom of God He was not invading
foreign territory. He was simply claiming for
God what was God's own; establishing, so to
speak, a de facto sovereignty where a de jure sov-
ereignty had existed all the time. Tliis does not,
however, quite express the true idea; God's sov-
ereignty over the material universe was both a

203

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGEESS

fact and a right, but the free mils of men were
not loyal to that sovereignty and obeyed another.
To bring these disobedient wills into free and
loving subjection to the divine ^Yi\\ and thus es-
tablish a moral or spiritual Kingdom of God was
His purpose. It is only from this fundamental
presupposition that we can proceed to estimate
aright His specific utterances about wealth, or
indeed about anything else. Perhaps the failure
to keep this basal assumption of His thought in
mind has led to much confusion in the interpre-
tation of His teaching on this important subject.
The material things which men use are God's;
the right of men in them is only secondary and
derived. They are for men, but fundamentally
do not belong to men. Not only do material things
belong to God, but the human energies which
make these things available for the satisfaction
of human wants are from God and owe allegiance
wholly and exclusively to Him. In the last analy-
sis, therefore, all wealth is God's. It is vain to
try to understand Jesus if we do not view every
statement He makes through the medium of this
principle.

Furthermore, there are certain aspects of the
personal psychology of Jesus which should not
be left out of mind, and cannot be without re-
sulting confusion. In the first place, He was a
Jew. Sometimes it has been maintained that He
did not have the Oriental type of mind; that He
did not in His mental constitution belong to a

204

WEALTH— CERTAIN CONSIDERATIONS

type peculiar to any particular group; that His
mind was universal, His modes of thinking un-
influenced by ethnical, sociological or temporal
conditions. There is a measure of truth in the
contention, but it is true only in a relative sense.
Such a mind, instead of being equally at home
in all climes and among all peoples, would really
be lifted in lonely isolation out of intercourse
with all human types, and unable to communicate
with any except through a historically conditioned
medium. Doubtless the mind of Jesus approxi-
mated as nearly the universal type as was con-
sistent with His mission as the personal reve-
lation of God. But that very mission made some
temporal and racial limitations necessary. Apart
from the theoretical inconsistency of the assump-
tion that His mind was elevated above conditions
of race and time, one cannot read the words of
Jesus without having forced ujjon him the fact
that, although His mind was truly marvelous in
its simplicity and lucidity, He did, so far as the
modes of His mental operations were concerned,
think, or at any rate, express His thoughts in
terms of the mental life of His race and age.
This erects no impassable barrier between His
mind and the minds of Western modern men.
It is only necessary for us to remember that His
language should be construed according to the
modes of thought and expression current where
He lived and taught; and not to read a certain
meaning into His words because a Western man

205

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

of the twentieth century would mean just that
in the use of the same expression. The Western
man of to-day, discoursing on any particular topic,
would as a rule not use the expression which
Jesus used to convey practically the same mean-
ing.

We should also bear in mind that Jesus was
an enthusiast. To a mind that looks at life and
destiny from a detached point of view and has
contracted the habit of contemplating the vast
complex of human relations and reactions simply
as an object of scientific investigation, such an
enthusiasm as His may seem extravagant. Or,
a man whose temperament is cold, whose feelings
are not intense, and whose moral valuations are
not emphatic, might regard the tremendous in-
tensity with which the soul of Jesus reacted upon
moral conditions as an indication of fanaticism,
and be unwilling to accept His injunctions as
practicable principles of living until they had been
liberally discounted. Certainly Jesus was not a
scientific sociologist; nor a frigid and cautious
conservative, whose chief fear was that he might
go too far. That He was careful and discriminat-
ing there is an abundance of evidence; even His
most unsympathetic critics, who think of Him
as usually a victim of unregulated enthusiasm,
must perforce admit, however inconsistently, that
at times He exhibited an extraordinary balance of
judgment. His feeling never swept away the
barriers of a will which was under the direction

206

WEALTH— CERTAIN CONSIDERATIONS

of a singularly clear intelligence. But He was
on fire with an enthusiasm such as never blazed
on the inner altar of another soul. His wonder-
ful moral insight penetrated to the very depths
of the muddy stream of life which flowed about
Him ; He perceived all its evil, much of which is
hidden from the eyes of ordinary men; and the
superlative moral sensitiveness of His soul felt
it in all its horror. He reacted against it with
the total strength of a personality whose force
has dominated the world for twenty centuries.
His words sound harsh sometimes, and sometimes
extravagant; and one's first impulse often is to
say, as was said by His hearers on one occasion,
*^He is beside Himself." But deeper meditation
will bring the morally sensitive soul to say, when
everything is considered, that He spoke only the
truth. In other words, to understand Him prop-
erly an indispensable part of one's equipment
must be a soul that feels profoundly the moral
distinctions and appreciates with some approach
to adequacy the importance of the human des-
tinies that turn upon these distinctions. It is
necessary to insist upon this because these sub-
jective factors do play such an important part in
the conclusions men reach about His teaching. It
may be practicable to arrive at a scientific evalu-
ation of a moral system, because there is an ob-
jective standard in social experience by which it
can be judged. But the subjective factor inev-
itably enters in, especially in seeking to formu-

207

JESUS AND SOCIAL PEOGEESS

late from the detached and unsystematized utter-
ances of a popular public teacher the system that
lay in His mind. Sympathy with the teacher is
indispensable ; to be able to enter into his moral
experiences is absolutely necessary; and this de-
pends upon the moral organization of the student.
For this reason, doubtless, it mil never be pos-
sible to reach unanimity as to what Jesus really
meant in many of His utterances on ethical ques-
tions; and the difficulty is probably greater with
respect to His deliverances concerning wealth
than any other. It would be ungracious, to say
the least, to suggest that some of the . interpre-
tations of His ethical doctrine have been deficient
because of a deficiency of moral sensitiveness on
the part of the interpreters ; but the manifest pos-
sibility of a misunderstanding arising from this
cause should certainly lead some of His critics
to adopt a less flippantly dogmatic tone in de-
preciation of His ethics.

208

CHAPTER II

WEALTH — SPECIFIC TEACHINGS

In the light of the * ' fundamental principles ' ' and
^* general considerations'' previously discussed,
the question we must now seek definitely to an-
swer is, What was the attitude of Jesus toward
wealth? It is surprising what widely different,
even antagonistic, conclusions as to this important
matter are reached by students of His teaching.
One is at first tempted to give up as hopeless
any effort to reach a sure answer to that im-
portant practical question. But notwithstanding
these differences, the efforts have not been fruit-
less, and the continued examination of the matter
bids fair at length to throw a guiding and most
welcome light upon the most difficult and vex-
atious problem of our time. Men are struggling,
somewhat blindly but with intense and irresistible
earnestness, to develop an adequate private and
public conscience concerning wealth, the vast in-
crease of which in modern times is at once the
most notable achievement and the most menacing
peril of our civilization. I firmly believe that the
chief factor in the organization of this conscience
will be the teaching of the Nazarene, who spoke
and wrought so many centuries ago. What did
He specifically teach about it ?
^ 209

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

In taking up His specific utterances on this
subject, we are met at the threshold by a ques-
tion of interpretation which has attracted no little
attention. The fact lies upon the very surface
that the Fourth Gospel contains no report of these
utterances. On the other hand, the Synoptics,
each of which gives accounts of sayings of His
on this theme, differ in striking ways in their
reports. Practically everything that is in Mark
is found either in Matthew or Luke, or both.
When Matthew and Luke report the same say-
ings or discourses, Luke almost invariably gives
them a sharper and more definite economic refer-
ence, in such a way as to give the impression of
a more pronounced sympathy with the poor as
such, and of antipathy toward the rich as such,
and also adds some utterances not found in Mat-
thew, wliich have the same tendency. The most
significant of these variations will be noted in
order further on. Reference is made to them here
not for the purpose of going into a discussion of
the various hypotheses suggested in explanation
of their origin, questions which belong to a field
of Biblical scholarship in which I make no pre-
tence to special knowledge. The variations are
perplexing, though not irreconcilable; but they
make it necessary to exercise care in correlating
these several reports in order to obtain a self-
consistent conception of the attitude of Jesus
toward the problem of wealth.

Consider first His general characterization of
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WEALTH— SPECIFIC TEACHINGS

wealth. He speaks of it as the *' mammon of un-
righteousness.''^ Tliis expression is used in a
connection in which He seems to be emphasizing
its instrumental character. To this I shall refer
later. At present it is important to note its as-
sociation in His mind with unrighteousness. By
the use of the word "mammon" He personifies
it and represents it as a god of unrighteous char-
acter.

Again, He uses the phrase, "deceitfulness of
riches. ' '^ The tendency to deceive, to lead astray
the soul is regarded as inhering in riches. They
lull a man into a false sense of security and
complacency, lead him to false valuations, en-
tangle him in cares which monopolize his atten-
tion and energy, and thus become a great hin-
drance to the progress of spiritual truth in the
soul. In passing, we may note that in this parable,
contrary to the general tendency, it is in Matthew
and Mark that the language unfavourable to riches
is absolute, while Luke's expression is relative or
qualified. Both Matthew and Mark say that the
seed sown in the soil of the soul preoccupied with
riches and kindred lusts is rendered "unfruitful,"
without qualification; while Luke says it "brings
no fruit to perfection. ' '

Again, He speaks of wealth as a grave ob-
struction, preventing, or rendering extremely dif-
ficult, entrance into the Kingdom.^ There lurks

iLuke 16:9-11. s^atthew 13:22; Mark 4:19.

'Matthew 19:23-26: Mark 10:23-27; Luke 18:24-27.

211

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

in it, therefore, a most serious spiritual danger.
The words which He added in response to the
expressed surprise of the disciples seem to indi-
cate that it does not absolutely preclude entrance
into the Kingdom; even over so serious an ob-
struction it is possible through the divine power
to gain entrance.

We pause here to ask, Must we understand
from these expressions that Jesus considers
wealth an evil in and of itself? Some interpreters
have given an affirmative answ^er, but this is mani-
festly incorrect. Such inferences are about as
slipshod and inconsequential as the charge that
the present-day agitation against the abuses of
wealth is an attack on property. Many of the
expressions of reformers to-day bear a rather
striking resemblance to these characterizations of
Jesus ; and yet no one except those whose unjust
privileges are menaced by reform supposes for
an instant that such expressions indicate any hos-
tility to wealth per se.

As soon as society advanced beyond primitive
conditions in which the economic status of indi-
viduals or families was usually a true index of
their industry and frugaUty, men perceived the
fact that wealth and moral character do not pre-
suppose one another; and once this dissociation
of the two was fully effected in men's minds, it
became apparent to moral insight that gain was
one of the most powerful incentives — if not the
most powerful — to wrongdoing that ever influ-

212

WEALTH— SPECIFIC TEACHINGS

enced the human will. The more one thinks upon
it, the more obvious this becomes. Wealth-seeking
is the resultant of a number of the most potent
motives that impel men. The desire for material
possessions is a mighty cable wliich draws men
into the struggle for gain. Disentangle it and
examine its separate strands. There are, first, the
desire for security against unforeseen conditions
that might bring want ; second, the desire for dis-
tinction for one 's self and one 's family ; third, the
desire for power, influence or control over one's
fellow-men; fourth, the desire for sensuous satis-
faction— comfort and luxury — for one's self and
family. These are the most general separate
motives that combine to impel men in the struggle
for wealth, though they are by no means the only
ones that may be operative in any given case.
It is not necessary to emphasize the fundamental
and powerful character of these motives. With
the possible exception of the last — ^which is likely
to indicate a sensual nature — they are not in them-
selves wrong; but they certainly are basal in hu-
man nature. They are four of the strongest
springs of human action ; and most men have had
the conviction, implicit or explicit, that the surest
road to the gratification of these desires was the
accumulation of wealth. How shall we fortify
ourselves against possible future want? Get
wealth. How shall we achieve a high standing
among our fellow-men? Get wealth. How shall
we satisfy our sensuous desires for comfort, ease,

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

luxury? Get wealth. How sliall we secure power
over our fellow-men? Get wealth. This is the
way the great majority of men have answered
these questions; and these questions are but the
translation into interrogative form of four of the
primal impulses of life.

By the side of this fact we must place another,
namely, that one of the easiest ways, perhaps the
easiest way, to get wealth is to take it directly
or indirectly from a weaker man. It may be taken
by violent means, if there is no one else to hinder.
It may be taken by superior shrewdness in trade,
in the dealing of one man with another ; and nearly
always this may be done without any outside in-
terference. In the more complex relations of a
highly organized industrial society it may be done
on a huge scale by a method against which it is
difficult to find an effective means of prevention.
When in the production of a given material value
a large number of men have co-operated, it is not
at all easy to determine exactly how much of the
value the labour of each has contributed. If in
such a case one man has or acquires the legal
right to make the division and assign a share of
the value to each of those who have co-operated
in its production, his advantage is obvious and
enormous ; it is practicable for him, within certain
wide limits, to appropriate to himself a lion's
share of the jointly created product. That is pre-
cisely the position of advantage which the capital-
ist has secured in the present industrial organi-

214

WEALTH— SPECIFIC TEACHINGS

zation. Of course, this proposition is true only
with qualification. In a competitive system the
price of labour is controlled by the law of supply
and demand. The same is true as to land, raw
material and the finished product ; also as to rent
and interest. It may be concluded, therefore, that
the capitalist by no means controls the division
of the joint product. But rent, interest and wages
are not the only forms into which the joint product
is divided. A good share takes the form of profits,
and this share is usually appropriated in toto by
the capitalist, though there is no ethical or ra-
tional ground on which he can establish an ex-
clusive claim to it. It is a portion, and often a
considerable portion, of the joint product. The
capitalist claims it as a consideration for the risk
he assumes; but as a matter of fact, he is by no
means the only one whose interest is involved in
the risk. The risk of the labourers, if not so
obvious, is even more serious than his own; and
yet they receive none of the profits except by his
grace. Moreover, the rent and interest, which
are also appropriated by the capitalist, are social
products, determined by social conditions which he
does not control for the very reason that they
are in the last analysis values created by society
at large, as every economist knows. It requires
only a little reflection to perceive that most of
the individual fortunes which have been acquired
under this system consist largely of the values
created by others. Indeed, only a little reflection

215

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

is needed for it to become apparent that in all
times and under every system of economic or-
ganization that has ever existed, except the most
primitive one — if indeed it was not in some meas-
ure true under that — large fortunes have usually
been acquired by some method of appropriating
values created by others. Some way for the
strong man to get the advantage of the weak man
has always been available, and there are never
lacking those who are willing to take advantage
of it.

In view of the powerful motives at work and
the ease mth which they may be gratified by the
appropriation of values created by others, it is
evident that men will be impelled by them to the
use of that method unless deterred by powerful
considerations. What considerations will do this ?
They must be internal, moral restraints or ex-
ternal, forcible restraints. But, as we know, ex-
ternal, forcible restraints have not been effective.
Certain methods of appropriating the values cre-
ated by others may be forbidden by the law ; but
such prohibitions are usually imposed after the
wrong has been committed and are not retro-
active ; and when men are debarred from the use
of old methods of exploitation, new ones are soon
invented, so long as the internal, moral restraint
is not sufficient to deter them. The situation,
therefore, is this: that nothing but an internal,
moral restraint, proportionate in strength to these
fundamental motives that impel to wealth-seek-

216

WEALTH— SPECIFIC TEACHINGS

ing, can prevent men from being led by these
incentives to wrong their weaker fellows. This
is certainly true so long as the economic life is
organized on the basis of competitive self-seeking
and our ideals of success are so tainted with
materialism. The materialistic standards of suc-
cess, rooting and strengthening themselves in the
present economic organization of society, render
necessary, in order that those powerful desires
shall not sweep men into wrong-doing, a degree
of internal moral restraint which comparatively
few men have ever possessed. Indeed, as eco-
nomic activity is and has been organized for ages,
it is very difficult for a man of the highest moral
ideals actually to live by these ideals in it; and
some exceptional men in recent times have made
peace with their consciences by striving to reform
current economic methods even while conforming
to them in their business activity. They accumu-
late wealth by current methods which their con-
sciences do not approve, and then make use of
the wealth so acquired to change the system in
which those methods alone are practicable. They
seek to make use of the system for the purpose
of overthrowing the system. This is an interest-
ing moral phenomenon.

Most men, however, in their moral ideals will
never rise far above the principles that are em-
bodied and operative in the economic life of their
time. It is easy, therefore, to see why it is that
men of deep ethical insight and sensitive con-

217

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROOEESS

sciences have perceived and felt deeply the close
association of moral evil with wealth. In the time
of Jesus the connection between them w^as closer
and more obvious than it is now. If the analysis
of the social situation in His time, given in a pre-
ceding chapter, is correct, the most significant
aspect of it was the decadence and disintegra-
tion of the ethical standards of the ancient world,
accompanied by a most alarming weakening of
moral restraint within men ; while the task of in-
tegrating society devolved to an extent never per-
haps witnessed before or since upon external
political force alone. Under such conditions it
was natural and inevitable that wealth should be
tainted with unrighteousness in an extraordinary
degree.

Furthermore, we must consider wealth not
only as to the method by which it is obtained, but
with reference to the spiritual effect which its
possession is likely to have upon its owner. As
stated before, the Christian conception of wealth
is that it fundamentally and primarily belongs
to God ; and, as such, the only justifiable use of it
is for the advancement of God's purposes. Now,
the conditions under which wealth is held and ad-
ministered give rise to a constant temptation to
use it for personal gratification. Under the social
policy of individual ownership a man's right,
within wide limits, to use the wealth in his pos-
session according to his own pleasure is recog-
nized and maintained. It affords him the means

218

WEALTH— SPECIFIC TEACHINGS

to gratify his and Ms family's desire for sensuous
satisfactions of every kind, and such a use of it
is socially approved. He has these strong desires ;
he has the means of gratif jdng them ; social stand-
ards justify him in using it for these ends. What
more natural than that he should do it?

In this connection an important psycholog-
ical fact should be borne in mind. When the
average man is considering what use he shall
make of his wealth, his own needs and de-
sires will be central in his consciousness, of
course; will bulk more largely, so to speak,
in his perception, thinking and feeling than
the needs and desires of others; and, as they
are more keenly realized, will proportionally in-
fluence his conduct. The only man of whom this
will not be true is one who has reached such a
high level of moral development that the needs
and desires of others are as important to him as
his own, and are truly his own — that is, a man
who is approximately perfect in moral character.
In every case in which approximate moral per-
fection has not been attained a man will use his
wealth more largely for his own gratification than
for the promotion of the welfare of others. The
possession of wealth, therefore, tends toward self-
indulgence in all but persons of the loftiest char-
acter. It is anti-spiritual in tendency. The posses-
sion of the means of self-indulgence is a constant
suggestion to practice it, and self-indulgence not
only hinders the upward development of character,

219

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

but is disintegrating and destructive. In the light
of the foregoing considerations, it is clear that the
temptations to the selfish conception of privately-
owned wealth are exceedingly powerful and can
be overcome only by men of high moral enthusi-
asm and thoroughgoing spiritual consecration.
The language of Jesus is manifestly none too
strong, '^How hardly shall they who have riches
enter into the Kingdom of God." The language
means exactly what it says. An exceedingly grave
moral and spiritual difficulty confronts the rich
man; but with divine help it is possible to over-
come it.

Now, these truths which are apparent to any
thoughtful eye were especially obvious to Jesus,
and stirred Him profoundly. It was the intense,
passionate realization of these truths that found
expression in the language we are discussing.
His words cannot legitimately be construed as
meaning anything more. The interpretation of
them as an exhibition of hostility to wealth per se
is without justification; and we hope later on to
make this still more apparent.

Let us inquire next what His teaching is as
to the accumulation of wealth.* Is it forbidden?
In the first place, a distinction should be made
between hoarded wealth and capital. Hoarded
wealth is put away, hidden, or, at any rate, sub-
tracted from reproductive uses, and held in idle-
ness, either for the satisfaction of the abnormal

♦Matthew 6:19 ff.

220

WEALTH— SPECIFIC TEACHINGS

passion of avarice or for future consumption.
Capital is that part of wealth which is used, not
for consumption, but for further production. It
is active and tends inevitably, therefore, to the
economic benefit of all in proportion as it is more
or less wisely and righteously used. In the time
of Jesus there was comparatively little capital,
unless land be classed as such. Agriculture had
been for ages almost a passion with the Jew, and
was still in great favour among those who re-
mained in Palestine — in theory, at least — just as
among the Jews of the dispersion trade was the
prevailing occupation. But apart from land, cap-
ital, in the modern sense of the term, was not a
very important factor in economic life. House-
hold industry was yet the usual mode of produc-
tion. Commerce was fairly active, but it was
not conducted on a scale that made large capital
necessary. On the other hand, there was much
of hoarded wealth ; and the passage we have under
consideration gives us an accurate description of
wealth held in this way. The treasure laid up
where moth and rust corrupted it, and where it
might be stolen by thieves, is hoarded wealth. The
applicability of this injunction to this kind of
wealth is obvious. Wealth laid away in this man-
ner seems to have a peculiarly seductive power
over the human heart. Its owner again and again
returns to it to see if it is safe, gloats over it in
secret, develops a strange and abnormal affection
for it. It becomes truly a '^treasure** in which

221

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGEESS

his heart is wrapped up. ^^ Where your treasure
is, there will your heart be also.*' The spiritual
efPect is obvious.

To-day very little wealth is hoarded. On the
contrary, it is invested; it becomes productive;
it gives employment to labour ; and so at once cre-
ates and distributes material welfare. But does
this imply that the injunction of Jesus does not
apply to capital! Not at all. It is perhaps true
that wealth held in this form does not so easily
and naturally develop the miserly disposition in
its owner as hoarded possessions; but it is by
no means free from this tendency. Who does not
know persons who possess some valuable stocks
or bonds for which they have come to have a really
miserly affection?

But apart from this, capital may be admin-
istered according to either of two policies. It
may be handled in such a way as to give the
capitalist himself the largest possible share of
the product and leave to labourers and to the
public at large the smallest possible share con-
sistent with the continued operation of the busi-
ness. In a word, it may be controlled primarily
in the interest of the capitalist. The capital-
ist himself or his agent is the divider of the
products ; or, at any rate, he determines the poli-
cies of the business, appropriates rent and in-
terest and has practically absolute control over
the profits ; and, as a rule, it is certainly the case
that he retains all of it. So it often goes on piling

990

WEALTH— SPECIFIC TEACHINGS

up as a mass of wealth ministering to the avarice
and pride and sensuous satisfaction of its pos-
sessor, and conferring on others only such inci-
dental benefits as are inseparable from its crea-
tion. Clearly such accumulation falls under the
condemnation of Jesus. It is a laying up of treas-
ures which are not less sure to decay and hardly
less exposed to the danger of being appropriated
by others in some ** legitimate" way than the un-
productive treasures, laid away in a secret place,
are to the danger of simple theft. But it is not
accumulation per se that is forbidden; a careful
reading of the passage makes it evident that it is
accumulation under certain conditions, by certain
methods, in a certain spirit that is condemned.

Suppose, on the other hand, capital should be
administered directly in the interest of all; so
managed as to assure to the labourers not only
a bare subsistence, but a life of decent comfort
and the possibility of sharing in the higher values
of life ; and so as to secure to all, through cheap-
ened prices, the largest practicable participation
in the general wealth. Would such a use of it
be consistent with the teaching of Jesus ? It cer-
tainly would. It is not the creation of wealth, but
the creation of wealth primarily for self that calls
forth His disapprobation. There is no spiritual
hurt to one's self in labouring to make the life
of his fellow-man a little easier in an economic
way. It does not degrade one's soul to try to
lift the crushing load of poverty from the back

223

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

of a prostrate neighbour. Does He not enjoin
His followers, time and again, to relieve the neces-
sities of the poor? And if a man should try to
do this by the kindly and brotherly administration
of capital, would he be violating the law of Jesus ?
But it is degrading to go on piling up the means
of material power and sensuous gratification for
one's self, laying up treasures upon earth, without
regard to the needs of one's suffering fellow-men.
From this point of view it does not seem diffi-
cult to answer the question whether Jesus ap-
proved of making money, of engaging in business
for the purpose of increasing economic values.
Did He regard this as the duty of some men, and
did He command diligence in such an occupation?
It is a reasonable and entirely justifiable inference
that He did — if the occupation he engaged in as
a form of service for the world, and not from the
selfish motive of gain. A number of commentators
in their eagerness to find in His teaching a justifi-
cation for the money-making activities which en-
gage most of the attention and energies of the
modern business man, fall into a very questionable
interpretation of such passages as the parables
of the talents and the pounds, the unfaithful
steward, etc.^ It is a mistake to assume that His
purpose in these parables is to teach the duty of
diligent attention to business for the purpose of
making money. He was referring to the diligence
and loyalty which in economic relations a superior

6 Matthew «5: 14 ff.; Luke 19: 13 ff.; 16: 1-12.
224

WEALTH— SPECIFIC TEACHINGS

requires of a subordinate as an illustration of the
duty of faithful diligence on the part of God's
servants in fulfilling the tasks assigned them by
their divine Lord. Jesus is not here requiring
His disciples to increase their earthly possessions
by putting their money out to interest or by care-
ful attention to business. The fact that He took
His illustration from economic life does not of
itself impose upon His disciples the obligation to
engage in economic activity, nor necessarily have
any reference at all to their engaging in such
activity. Doctor Peabody goes so far as to say
that *Hhey [the persons referred to in these para-
bles] are performing precisely that kind of service
which He wishes His disciples to render. '* But
we must not forget that the unjust steward was
used also as an example for His followers; and
yet certainly not with the view that they should
engage in ^^ precisely that kind of service." He
was only using certain economic relations to illus-
trate certain aspects of our spiritual relations.
In the application of these parables to His dis-
ciples the talents and pounds represent whatever
they have received from God. That gift or be-
stowment or endowment must be regarded sa-
credly as a trust, for the use and development of
which they must give an account. May the
* * talents ' ' of the parable represent wealth 1 There
is no reason to suppose that Jesus would not,
under certain conditions, regard wealth as one
form of trust committed to a man by God, which
" 225

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

he should go on increasing ; on the contrary, there
is every reason to suppose that He would. But
what are those ** certain conditions T* Would He
thus regard any and all wealth that may actually
be found in a man's possession! No; He could
not consistently with His other utterances re-
gard the wealth which was unjustly gained as a
divinely committed trust. But that which the man
has honestly earned, it is evident He would so
consider.

To what specific use of wealth, then, do these
parables bind the disciple! Do they require
him to use it as capital in further production;
to give it away to the poor; to contribute it for
the maintenance and propagation of religious
teaching ; for the establishment of institutions for
public benefit! The parables contain no sugges-
tion as to these details. They only illustrate and
enforce the principle that it must be used as a
trust in the service of God. If employed as capital
for productive purposes, such a use of it must be
both in motive and method a service of God, which
is only another way of saying, must promote the
highest welfare of one's fellow-men. Only such
an administration of capital would receive the
approbation of Jesus. The obligation to engage
in business and to be diligent in business is laid
upon us only if we engage in business as a service
to God and to our fellow-men.

If the altruistic administration of capital were
once generally adopted it would prove to be not

226

WEALTH— SPECIFIC TEACHINGS

only a good ethical and spiritual policy, but good
economics as well. It would lead to the general
and equitable distribution of wealth, as well as
to its abundant creation; would prevent the de-
velopment of abnormal fortunes on the one hand,
and of abnormal poverty on the other; would
relegate unrighteous cut-throat competition to a
semi-barbarous past, as dueling has been; and
would go as far as economic method could go,
and that is a good way, toward promoting per-
sonal and social righteousness.

However, the question now before us is not
so much the practicability of this use of cap-
ital; it is to determine what the teaching of
Jesus really is. It may be held mth con-
siderable plausibility that such an administra-
tion of capital in our present economic or-
ganization is impracticable. But if His teaching
is not practicable in a social organization such
as that which existed then or that which ex-
ists now, that is another matter. It becomes
more evident with continued study that Jesus was
not enjoining a mode of life with reference to its
practicability in the existing social order, but with
reference to its essential righteousness. So far
as His program had reference to this world at
all, its central idea was the coming of a social
order within which such a life as He enjoined
would be both practicable and normal. The gen-
eral evils resulting from the selfish administra-
tion of privately controlled capital are becoming

227

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

increasingly offensive to tlie conscience of the
world, and all signs indicate that we are rapidly
approaching a crisis in which, if the motive of
general welfare does not dominate the use of pri-
vately controlled capital, collective control will
be instituted. If the Christian motive is not prac-
ticable in the present capitalistic organization of
industry, so much the worse for that organization.
The passages in which Jesus pronounced a
blessing upon the *'poor'' or the *'poor in spirit''
and a woe upon the ^'rich''^ deserve a special
consideration. The first thing which engages our
attention in these important passages is the dif-
ference between Matthew's report of these words
and Luke's, for there is no very good reason to
doubt that both evangelists are reporting the same
sermon. According to Luke, the blessing is pro-
nounced upon the ^^poor," mthout any qualifying
phrase, and is addressed to them directly in the
second person ; while Matthew introduces the im-
portant qualifying phrase *4n spirit," and makes
it a general statement in the third person. A
similar divergence occurs in the form of the beati-
tude which is given as the second in Luke and
the sixth in Matthew. Luke says, ^'Blessed are
ye that hunger now ;" Matthew, ^^ Blessed are they
that hunger and thirst after righteousness."
Luke adds the woes pronounced upon the **rich"
and the **full," which are wanting in Matthew.
We have previously adverted to the characteristic

6 Matthew 5:3; Luke 6 : 20-25.

228

WEALTH— SPECIFIC TEACHINGS

of Luke's Gospel as compared with Matthew's,
and it is not our purpose to discuss that question
further, except as it relates to these special pas-
sages, which are the most important instances of
the alleged inconsistency between the two Gospels.
Is there any real inconsistency! We think not.
We need not concern ourselves as to which reports
most literally the words of Jesus. There is ex-
cellent reason to believe that in the current usage
of these phrases among the people to whom He
was speaking they were practically equivalent in
meaning. Rogge says: ^^ The translation (of the
word ^ anawim') mth ttt^xo? renders its meaning
only imperfectly, as it does not coincide with our
social concept ^poor/ but rather indicates a union
of ^ pious ^ in the Jewish sense (righteous) and ^op-
pressed' in the political and social sense." This
is apparent if one compares the parallel expres-
sions in the Magnificat of Mary."^ In the Book of
Enoch the poor and lowly are often mentioned to-
gether. The **poor'' and the ^*poor in spirit,"
those who are ** hungry now" and those who *^ hun-
ger and thirst after righteousness" are as a rule
the same; and the *'rich" and the ^^full" are
usually identical with those whose hearts are
proud and set against the Kingdom. It may be,
therefore, that in Luke there are preserved the
literal words which Jesus used, and in Matthew
their real significance.

To insist on inferring from the language in

'Luke l:46ff.

229

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

Luke that the attitude of Jesus toward the
rich and poor was determined not by their
moral and spiritual state, but by the simple
possession or non-possession of wealth, is to
use a literalism in interpreting Him which was
absolutely foreign to the whole spirit and method
of His teaching. It was not the bare fact of pov-
erty or riches, apart from any moral implication,
in which He was interested, but the spiritual atti-
tude of men, their preparedness for the Kingdom
as influenced hy their economic status. We need
to be reminded continually that this was the point
of view from which Jesus regarded and dealt with
economic questions; and there can be no doubt
that He regarded the accumulation, possession
and enjoyment of wealth in the midst of the gen-
eral poverty of one's fellow-men as extremely
dangerous, if not fatal, to spiritual character ; just
as, on the other hand, there can be no question
that He found the poor in an attitude of spirit
which rendered them, as a rule, open and ac-
cessible to His influence.

We come now to consider that phase of the
problem which has given rise to the most serious
difficulty and, as I think, misunderstanding as to
the teaching of Jesus concerning wealth. The
question is threefold — first, did Jesus require His
disciples to forsake their earthly possessions, or
to sell them and distribute the proceeds among
the poor ; second, if He did, was the requirement
general and absolute ; and third, on what ground

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WEALTH— SPECIFIC TEACHINGS

was it based r To the first question there can be
but one answer. Certainly in specific cases and
under some circumstances this requirement was
made. The case of the rich young man is recorded
in all three of the Synoptic Gospels and without
any very important variation except that Luke's
account of the injunction to sell his possessions
and to distribute the proceeds among the poor
is stated in a little more emphatic terms: ^^Sell
all that thou hast.'' But was this a general rule!
Was it required of all disciples without regard
to circumstances I It is not stated as a general
rule in Matthew and Mark, but in Luke are found
words which have the sound of a general law laid
upon all who would follow Jesus. *^Sell that ye
have and give alms." This seems to have been
spoken to the general body of disciples, not to
individuals in special conditions. Unquestionably
serious difficulty arises if it is taken as a general
law imposed upon all disciples; and this is the
meaning insisted upon by a certain group of in-
terpreters. They account for this alleged atti-
tude of Jesus toward worldly possessions on the
ground that He was looking for an immediate
catastrophic termination of the existing world-
order and the miraculous inauguration of the
Elingdom. In view of this impending change He
enjoined upon His followers to divest themselves
of earthly goods, which would soon be destroyed
or rendered valueless, and use them to gain spir-

8Luke 12:33; 18:22: Matthew 19:21; Mark 10:21.

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

itual merit by alms-giving and thus secure for
themselves a better reward in the new divine or-
der about to be instituted. In the light of this
expectant attitude all His utterances about wealth,
they say, become plain. How could one, they ask,
have a normal attitude toward material goods
who was living in daily expectation of the de-
struction by divine power of the whole order of
the world and the coming of a new heaven and
a new earth in which all human arrangements
would be different? Under such conditions the
seeking of wealth, its accumulation and its reten-
tion would divert the minds of people from that
which should wholly engage them, viz., prepara-
tion for the imminent change; and so would be
hurtful, and would be gross folly, since by the
distribution of it as alms the possessors of wealth
might convert it into equivalent spiritual advan-
tages in the new order.

The bare statement of the theory arouses sus-
picion of its truth, notwithstanding its plausi-
bility. It does not harmonize with other portions
of His teaching. In the first place, it does not
seem to proceed from the same mind that gave
utterance to those ethical principles and precepts
which all ages are compelled to admire for their
extraordinary sanity. Those who maintain this
hypothesis feel this inconsistency, and represent
Him at one time as the sane moral genius en-
lightening the world with His moral insight, and
at another time as swayed by an intense, sombre,

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WEALTH--SPECIFIC TEACHINGS

ecstatic mood wliich converted him into an im-
practical and austere ^dsionary. But on this hy-
pothesis the inconsistency between these different
parts of His teaching is more profound than one
of mood; it is one of ethical quality. The in-
junction to get rid of one's earthly possessions
because they are soon to be worthless anyhow,
and in so doing to transmute them through alms-
giving into treasures wliich one can enjoy in the
new order, does not seem ethically to be of a piece
wdth His other teachings. Others, therefore, who
hold to this interpretation, seeing the error of
attributing these inconsistent ethical attitudes to
the same person, solve the difficulty by assuming
that we have in the Gospels two pictures of Jesus
which are essentially unlike. But it is this in-
terpretation which itself gives rise to the diffi-
culty and which we think is negatived by other
utterances of His on the specific subject of wealth.
Look, for instance, at His parable of the rich fool,
in which the warning against laying up treasure
upon earth is based not upon the prospect of the
immediate downfall of the world-order, but upon
the uncertainty of the individual life and upon
the manifest tendency of wealth to seduce the
soul into selfish materialism and a false sense of
security — that is, upon its spiritual effects.

Consider now another very instructive pas-
sage.^ The requirement here made to forsake all
earthly possessions is stated as a general condi-

«Luke 14; 25.33.

233

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

tion of discipleship, but note that it does not occur
in any apparent connection with the expectation
of immediate collapse of the world-order and that
it does occur in connection with other injunc-
tions of an equally severe, if not more radical,
character, such as the command to hate one's
father and mother and even one's own life. Now,
to take these latter injunctions in the literal sense
is to attribute moral idiocy to Jesus. It is liter-
alism gone mad to insist that He required His
disciples literally to hate their parents and to hate
their own lives; and it is not too much to say
that such an interpretation betrays a moral in-
ability to enter into sympathy with Jesus, without
which it is impossible to understand Him. R
would seem that the meaning is plain enough to
a well-balanced soul. It is a strong, even pas-
sionate, statement of an intensely honest and ear-
nest spirit. He was calling upon men to follow
Him ; and they were responding, but without any
adequate realization of the great sacrifices in-
volved; and He was setting before them in the
strongest possible light the unreserved and un-
compromising character of the devotion to this
cause which would be required of them, in order
that they might be stimulated to a proper con-
sideration of the serious step they proposed to
take, and that all might be deterred who were
moved by any motive that would not stand the
extreme tests to which His followers would in-
evitably be subjected. He used what seems to

234

WEALTH— SPECIFIC TEACHINGS

those who stand in cool aloofness from the strenu-
ous circumstances the language of extravagant
hyperbole. But it was not extravagant then.
Those disciples were entering upon a way which
actually for many of them, and possibly for all
of them, would lead to the sundering of the dear-
est ties of nature and the yielding up of their own
lives. Nor is it extravagant yet. He is not more
than half a man who has not found some cause
that to him is worthy of ^^the last full measure
of devotion ; ^ ' and he is less than a Christian who
does not find in the Kingdom of God a cause that
transcends all others in its claims upon the human
heart.

Now, it was under such circumstances and in
such a spirit that the general statements about
disposing of all one's wealth were made. In these
utterances He was not laying down hard and fast
legal requirements to which His followers would
have to conform their external conduct under all
possible circumstances. He was enforcing a spir-
itual principle — absolute consecration to the cause
that is supreme. Fundamentally it is a question
of relative values. The Kingdom is the supreme
value rising above that of the temporal life itself.
For the realization of the Kingdom, the followers
of Jesus must always be wilhng to sacrifice all
other interests; and, if circumstances render it
necessary, must do so in fact. If attachment to
those bound to us by ties of blood seduces us from
consecration to the spiritual ends of life — and con-

235

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

ditions may arise in wMch this would be the case —
even those bonds of nature are to be disregarded.
If the heart becomes so attached to earthly pos-
sessions that they take precedence over the in-
terests of the spiritual life, it is better to cut out
this cancer of materialism by the roots. This is
the explanation of the Master's injunction to the
rich young man, whose personal qualities excited
His admiration, to dispose of his wealth and give
himself without reservation to the service of the
Kingdom.

There is no serious difficulty in correlating His
requirements as to wealth with the general prin-
ciples of His ethics. Reference has already been
made to the fact that the situation of the King-
dom with regard to the ** world'' was peculiar at
the beginning. Jesus was gathering out of the
unfriendly world a little group of disciples who
were called by the circumstances not only to segre-
gate themselves and stand in sharp opposition
against the world-order as then organized, but
also to devote themselves to a propagandism
which exposed them to violent persecution, and,
in any case, required the absolute concentration
of their time and energy. It is manifest that
under such conditions it would often be necessary
for them to decide between holding on to their
earthly possessions and whole-hearted devotion to
this duty. Frequently the possession of property
would not only divide their attention and interest
with the task of the Kingdom in the form in which

236

WEALTH— SPECIFIC TEACHINGS

it then presented itself, but would otherwise prove
an incumbrance; and likewise might family con-
nections, under such circumstances, sometimes
prove a fatal handicap to the faint-hearted. It
is a commonplace of ethics that the same principle
of duty will require different courses of conduct
in situations which are fundamentally different.
It would be a veritable and intolerable bondage to
the letter — against which Jesus fought most stren-
uously— to urge as eternally binding upon His
followers the very same requirements as to ex-
ternal conduct which He laid upon His disciples
in a peculiar situation. Whatever else Jesus was,
He was not a legal literalist. It may be urged
that it is dangerous to insist upon the principle
of freedom in the application of His principles.
Very true. The freedom of the spirit has its dan-
gers, and its abuses have been most lamentable;
but the dangers of bondage to the letter are far
greater, and its consequences are always and
everywhere disastrous. It was Jesus Himself who
broke the shackles of this most deplorable and
degrading bondage from the human spirit; and
this simple fact, which is of capital importance,
seems again and again to have been forgotten or
ignored by some men who have sought to deter-
mine His doctrine concerning wealth.

Our argument has led us to the point where His
doctrine concerning alms-giving and the treatment
of the poor should be considered. If there has
been a tendency to consider His general teaching

237

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

concerning wealth without reference to the funda-
mental principles of His ethics, the confusion to
which it leads has nowhere been so manifest as
in relation to the giving of alms. His fundamental
moral principle is love, showing itself in active
helpfulness. When He enjoins the giving of alms
the motive most certainly is not selfish. The pur-
pose is not that the giver may by this overt act
win eternal life. The motive which He enjoins
is helpfulness to the poor. It is absolutely im-
possible to reconcile any other conception of the
motive and significance of alms-giving with the
body of His teaching. Before Him were great
masses of people who were in destitution, in actual
want. Over against that mass of dire poverty
there stood a comparatively few well-to-do and a
still smaller number of rich persons; and their
wealth, for the most part, be it remembered, was
accumulated by unethical means. There were no
organized methods of helping those who were in
need ; nor in the actual state of things was it prac-
ticable to establish such agencies.

With such a situation confronting him, no
believer in the doctrine of brotherly love could
fail to perceive and proclaim the duty of alms-
giving. The question was not whether a bet-
ter way of helping the helpless could ulti-
mately be found. The question was, What was
a man's duty, then and there? Even now,
with all our sociological enlightenment, when
starving people face us we feel it to be a solemn

238

WEALTH— SPECIFIC TEACHINGS

duty as well as privilege to give alms, notwith-
standing our realization of the essential defective-
ness of the method. In the situation that con-
fronted Jesus, and which has in fact confronted
in more or less acute form every generation since
the dawn of history, the only alternative was to
give immediate aid to the hungry and homeless
poor or see them die of want. Here we must
follow Nietzsche or Jesus. There ought to be a
better way ; and slowly out of accumulating social
experience we are finding methods of dealing with
poverty which are an improvement upon direct
alms-giving. In fact, there ought to be no dire
poverty at all, and if the ethical principles of
Jesus were actually embodied in social organiza-
tion and practice there would be none, or prac-
tically none ; but in the meantime extreme poverty
must be helped. To let men die around us because
alms-giving is not the ideal means of dealing with
want would be to sink into the moral status of
savagery. Have our social ideals grown to be
so lofty that in order not to sacrifice them we must
practice barbarism!

Jesus has not enjoined alms-giving as the ex-
clusive and sufficient method of dealing with the
ghastly problem of destitution. Not only would
the whole-hearted and thoroughgoing application
of His principle speedily put an end to the prob-
lem, but His method of dealing with the situation
before that glorious consummation is achieved in-
cludes far more than giving pennies or dollars

239

JESUS AND SOCIAL PEOaRESS

directly to the needy or filling the treasuries of
charitable organizations. The real emphasis of
His doctrine is upon loving helpfulness, and that
means personal contact, encouragement, stimula-
tion. What He calls for is not the tossing of
material aid across an impassable social gulf, nor
the bridging of that chasm by a charitable society.
His method is that the wealthy should draw near
in simple brotherliness to those who need the
touch of human sympathy and appreciation more
than they do bread and clothes and shelter. To
treat them as our human brothers and help them
to realize their humanity is the larger duty within
which alms-giving, when the situation demands it,
is included as a factor. The evil has been and is
that alms-giving is so frequently substituted for
the whole obligation, and then it is no longer a
fulfillment of the law of Jesus. It is equally a
mistake to suppose that indiscriminate alms-giv-
ing accords with His spirit. Here again we must
beware of literalism in interpreting Him. True
He says, **Give to him that asketh of thee;" or,
according to Luke's reading, ^*to every man that
asketh thee;" and if taken with Pharisaic literal-
ness, which was abominable to Him who uttered
them, the words would mean that we should give
blindly without any regard to the circumstances
or the character or motives of the beggar. Of
course, a more pernicious social policy could
hardly be imagined; but such a construction of
the language is absurd. For it erects the injunc-

240

WEALTH— SPECIFIC TEACHINGS

tioii into a hard and fast external rule of conduct
which violates the very principle of which it was
intended to be an application. That principle,
let us repeat, is love expressing itself in prac-
tical helpfulness, whereas such an indiscriminate
and careless practice of charity would be neither
loving nor helpful. When Jesus lays upon us
the obligation to help our fellows there would
not seem to be any need of making explicit the
implication that we should give the aid in the
form in which it is needed. We can not help those
who need no help, nor can we help those who do
need it except in the form in which they need it.
If we follow His injunction, the giving of ma-
terial aid is only one form, and that not the most
important, of self -giving ; and indiscriminate giv-
ing cannot be practiced where the self goes along
as the major part of the gift.

No better illustration of this principle can be
found than His injunction to the host who bade
Him and His disciples to a feast^*' — an injunction
which has, however, suffered grievously from
neglect, on the one hand, and vicious literalistic
interpretation on the other. Some of His fol-
lowers, who are supposed to take His teachings
as the law of life, have found it convenient to
slur over this passage, or to explain it in such
a way as to empty it of all practical significance ;
while the critics of His ethics insist upon con-
struing it in a baldly literal sense so as to dis-

i°Luke 14:12-14.

241

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

credit His teaching as a practicable program of
living. According to the latter, it would actually
bind the Christians never to invite to their tables
their friends and brethren, and whenever they
gave dinners to fill their tables with social de-
pendents. That is, they would construe the lan-
guage of a popular Jewish teacher of two thou-
sand years ago as they would the language of a
modem professor of ethics in a twentieth century
university, and do this in the name of scientific
criticism ! One would go far to find a more child-
ishly unscientific proceeding.

The great majority of Christians seem, on the
contrary, to understand Him to mean that when
they give dinners they should always in^dte their
friends and brethren and rich neighbours and
never invite anybody else, least of all the poor
and the helpless. It is an even choice between
the two methods of dealing with His w^ords.
Again, we must interpret this detached incidental
saying in the light of His general principle. The
lesson He is enforcing is the duty, in general, of
treating the needy classes as our brethren, of
respecting and appreciating their essential hu-
manity in order that we may really help them,
of stepping over that social chasm which has been
created by the unequal and unethical distribution
of wealth, of identifying ourselves with those who
have failed and gone down in the struggle of
life ; and the duty, in particular, of utilizing * * so-
cial functions** as a means of helping those who

242

WEALTH— SPECIFIC TEACHINGS

need to have their self-respect reinforced, even
more than they do material aid. Such *^ func-
tions" are, as a rule, utilized for quite different
and often for precisely opposite ends. Not sel-
dom they are flagrant and even disgusting ex-
hibitions of pride, costly and wasteful advertise-
ments of one's social exclusiveness, and skillfully
calculated to impress the uninvited with one's
social elevation above them. That such conduct
calls forth the condemnation of Jesus is not to
be wondered at; nor is it remarkable that He
seized the opportunity to point out how such occa-
sions should be used, not to sunder social classes
more widely, but to knit them together in human
brotherhood. A common-sense application of this
principle in daily life, especially under modern
conditions, would not be easy; but, if done with
the moral tact which can be learned in the school
of Jesus and there alone, would accomplish un-
told good and would do no damage to anything
except the artificial and superficial culture, the
spirituality as well as the genuine human joy of
which has been fatally chilled in the bleak air of
excessive conventionality.

We may fittingly bring to a conclusion this
discussion of His specific teaching as to wealth
with a study of that most interesting incident,
His meeting with Zaccheus. There is preserved
for us no word of the conversation with Zaccheus
in the privacy of the latter 's home. We can only
infer what Jesus said by the publican's remark-

243

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

able response. Two impressions, very definite
and very powerful, seem to have been made upon
bim. First, a sense of social obligation. All
about him were the suffering poor. He felt the
impulse to help them; and the obvious, indeed,
the only practicable, way open to him, as things
were then, was the direct distribution of charity.
Upon this we need not dwell after what has just
been said. Second, a realization of the fact that
his wealth was in large measure ill-gotten; and
the impulse of a rectified conscience to make
abundant restitution was the inevitable moral re-
sult. A man who holds in his possession wealth
which he knows has been created by others needs
only a moderate degree of moral sensitiveness
to make him uncomfortable, whether or not the
method by which he has gained it is in accord mth
existing social standards. According to the social
standard embodied in the policy of the Roman
Empire, the wealth of Zaccheus was legitimately
acquired; according to the standard of Jewish
opinion, it was not. But he had come in contact
with a moral personality who had opened his eyes
to a higher standard than either, and henceforth
that wealth burned in his hands. A fourfold resti-
tution alone would ease the pain of his conscience.
This incident is far-reaching in its suggestions.
How much wealth was there at that time in the
hands of rich men which could be justified by a
high standard of ethics? Did not such fortunes
usually consist of accumulations of values created

244

WEALTH— SPECIFIC TEACHINGS

by others? Press the question further. How
many individual fortunes are there to-day which
do not consist in large part of values created by
others 1 To one who carefully looks into the social
processes by which wealth is created, it is mani-
fest that if all the values not created by the owner
of a large fortune were subtracted from it, it
would shrink to a fraction of its present volume.
Here lies the extremely difficult ethical problem
of wealth which some critics of Jesus' teaching
have not squarely faced. What does a high, clean
conscience call for in such a situation! It is easy
enough to denounce as absurd and anti-social the
demand that rich men should surrender the wealth
which they hold and selfishly enjoy, but which
they did not produce ; but if they retain and con-
tinue to use for personal ends the values created
by others, is there nothing morally absurd and
anti-social in that ! There arises in every healthy
conscience a demand which cannot be hushed,
that the portion of wealth which the individual
did not himself create, but which by some method,
socially approved or not, has come into his pos-
session, should in some form or other be returned
to its real creators. This is an elementary re-
quirement of honesty, and is wholly distinct from
the further question as to the proper use of the
wealth which is the product of the individual's
own effort. The Christian principle calls for the
consecration of this portion of one's wealth also.
That wealth which one himself creates should be

245

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

used by Mm in the service of his fellow-men ; but
that which he did not create he can not retain
and use for himself without a conflict with ele-
mentary moral standards. The problem does not
become less difficult with the advancing compli-
cation of the social processes; but, on the other
hand, the necessity for its solution does not be-
come less insistent. The stern demands which
Jesus made upon the possessors of wealth in His
day may seem to those who take a superficial view
of the conditions severe and impracticable. But
the more profoundly one looks into the matter, the
more obvious it becomes that His principles must
somehow be put in practice, unless we are to ac-
cept with resignation the pessimistic conclusion
that human society cannot be organized on an
ethical basis.

It may be said that the politico-economic order
lies outside the proper sphere of Christian ethics,
that the system of society is a part of the natural
order, in which natural forces operate. Accord-
ingly, when a man enters into the organized rela-
tions of society he is, as a political and economic
factor, subject to the control of natural forces to
which ethical principles and ideals are inapplica-
ble. Ethical law is no more applicable there, we
are told, than in the realm where the laws of
gravitation, heat, light, electricity and chemical
affinity hold sway. When a flash of lightning
strikes a man dead, we do not feel that the elec-
tricity has violated a moral law ; and when a man

246

WEALTH— SPECIFIC TEACHINGS

is crushed by the play of economic forces, there
is no ethical question involved. Some thinkers
have actually sought the solution of the problem
along this line; that is, they solve the ethical
problem of the economic and political life by just
saying there is no ethical problem of economic
and political life.

But if ethical law has no more applicability
to the economic and political processes than
to the sphere of natural forces, why is it,
pray, that they find it necessary to invent
this theory of the limits of ethical law? Nobody
finds it necessary to insist that ethical principles
are not applicable to the natural forces of gravi-
tation and electricity. A better scientific grasp
of the issues involved makes manifest the empti-
ness of this subterfuge. These men seem to for-
get that out of the very social processes which
they say lie beyond the sphere of moral sanctions
arise the moral laws which perversely insist that
these processes are within their jurisdiction. In
the clash and struggle of human forces, as men
strive for possessions and power, are generated
moral standards for the very purpose of bring-
ing those forces under moral control. This has
been the case in every civilization that has de-
veloped on the earth. It is said in reply that out
of the economic and political processes there is
developed a specific ethic which alone is prop-
erly applicable in those spheres; and so it turns
out that it is the Christian ethic alone that is

247

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

barred from this territory. But why f No reason
is given for treating the Christian ethic as thus
unrelated to the general ethical development of
man, except that it is inconsistent with the actual
on-going of those economic and political proc-
esses. But out of the very heart of these proc-
esses themselves there has arisen the most urgent
criticism of them and an insistent demand for
radical changes in the interest of human welfare ;
and the sole question that is open to debate is
whether the changes required by the Christian
ethic would promote human welfare. It is no
longer open to question among intelligent stu-
dents that profound and sweeping changes will
be effected sooner or later, by peaceable or by
violent means ; and the anxious inquiry of a multi-
tude of earnest souls is : Will the Christian ethic
guide us safely, by a method that will conserve
all the real values of present civilization, to the
realization of a better one?

248

CHAPTER III

POVEETY AND EQUITABLE DISTKIBUTION

Theke are certain questions concerning Jesus'
conception of wealth which cannot be categor-
ically answered by the citation of any specific
utterances of His. At best, they can only be
inf erentially answered.

One of the most important is this: Did He
see in poverty any spiritual disadvantages I That
He saw in wealth a menace to the souPs liighest
life there can be no question ; but how about pov-
erty? Is not that in another way quite as menac-
ing? Has it not special temptations and perils of
its own? If wealth tends to generate pride, does
not poverty tend to break down self-respect? If
the rich look down with contempt, do not the
poor look up with envy? If wealth leads naturally
to sensuous self-indulgence, does not poverty, by
the grinding physical toil which it necessitates,
harden and brutalize? If the possession of wealth
relaxes the will and enfeebles the conscience, does
not poverty produce a similar effect through the
depression and discouragement which it induces?
If wealth dissipates the energy of the life in care-
less pleasure-seeking, does not poverty burn it
up in fruitless anxiety? Certainly every modern
student of the subject would answer these ques-

249

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

tions in the affirmative. But it has been main-
tained that, while Jesus perceived and empha-
sized the moral danger of riches, He seems to
have exhibited no consciousness that poverty is
fraught with danger to the higher life.

The assumption that Jesus regarded poverty
as the ideal economic state betrays a surprising
lack of insight into His teaching. Why, then,
did He impose the obligation to help the poor?
If their condition were the ideal one from His
point of view, it is certain that He would not
have sought to change it. If to be in destitution
were the best possible situation for a man's spir-
itual life, Jesiis would certainly have said, leave
him in destitution. Whatever else He may have
thought, it is absolutely certain that He con-
sidered the needs of the soul as infinitely more
important than the needs of the body. If physical
want were in His judgment best for the soul, it
is beyond question that He would have enjoined
upon His followers to leave their fellow-men in
want and to seek in every proper way to reduce
them to want. If He considered an empty stomach
as contributory to the fulfillment of the spiritual
life. He assuredly would not have made it ob-
ligatory to feed the hungry. If His advice to
certain rich persons to divest themselves of their
property were based upon the assumption that
penury is in itself the economic status most con-
ducive to the development of the higher life, is
it not most absurd that He should have bidden

250

POVERTY AND DISTRIBUTION

them in the same breath to distribute their wealth
among the poor ! Did He bid men seek their own
spiritual welfare by imperiling that of their fel-
low-men ? It is self-evident that He did not regard
poverty, in the sense of destitution, as the ideal
economic state, but exactly the opposite.

It is true, however, that He did not anywhere
explicitly bring out and emphasize the spiritual
disadvantages of poverty ; and it is fair to enquire
as to the reason for this. Without presuming to
be able to tell why He did not say some things
which He might have said, some illuminating sug-
gestions may, I think, be made as to the reason
for this particular omission. There seem to be
two excellent reasons. In the first place, there
was current a definite and time-honoured beUef
that material prosperity was an evidence of the
divine favour, that the possession of wealth was
assign of spiritual merit; and that poverty was
the sure result of wrong-doing and the mark of
the disfavour of God. Whether or not this corre-
lation of wealth with spiritual merit and of pov-
erty with spiritual demerit were approximately
correct in the primitive conditions of society, it
certainly was no longer so. But the idea per-
sisted as a postulate of popular belief and re-
enforced the tendency of wealth to inflate the
soul of its possessor with pride and the tendency
of poverty to depress and discourage those who
dwelt under its chilling shadow. Tliis popular
error Jesus had to combat. To break up this

251

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

false association of economic with spiritual con-
ditions was absolutely necessary before a sane
view of these matters would become possible.
How should He do it! To dwell upon the spir-
itual disadvantages of poverty or upon the spir-
itual advantages of plenty would have strength-
ened it and have fortified the rich in their arro-
gance and the poor in their mental distress and
discouragement. '

The foregoing would seem to be a sufficient
justification of the course He pursued; but there
was also another. We may safely assume that,
as a rule, men are not poor by preference. Here
and there individuals and small groups have
arisen who deliberately chose the life of destitu-
tion; but they have been so exceptional as only
to bring out in relief the general fact that pov-
erty is not a matter of choice. What, then, are
the causes of poverty? First, we know that many
men have been poor simply because they could
not help it, or at any rate have not known how
to avoid it. Ignorance and comparative weak-
ness unquestionably explain much of it. Many
of the poor, perhaps most of them, have simply
lost out in the competitive struggle of life. Sec-
ond, as modern investigations have shown, it is
often the result of misfortune or of ill-health.
Third, in many cases, without doubt, it is, and
always has been, due to immorality. Careless-
ness, wastefulness, vice in one form or another
is often the explaining cause; but even in such

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POVERTY AND DISTRIBUTION

cases the poverty cannot be called a matter of
direct choice. It has come as the undesired and
usually unlooked-for result of vicious courses of
conduct. Fourth, in some cases — though in our
day such cases are rare, and probably always
have been — ^it is the result of conscientiousness.
Some men have been poor because conscience
forbade them to avail themselves of means of gain
which were open to them. We may treat such
rare cases as negligible, certainly in our modern
life, though there is reason to believe that they
were much less rare among the poor of Palestine
in the days of Jesus. We may say then, in gen-
eral, that for the most part poverty is due either
to conditions over which the poor have no con-
trol or to some form of vice. This is a real dis-
tinction; but, as a matter of fact, it is rare that
the two classes of causes are distinctly separable
in their working. In concrete cases they are often
both present and so intervolved that it is not prac-
ticable to tell which is primary and which sec-
ondary. But for the sake of convenience we
may treat them as entirely distinct, and enquire,
How should a moral teacher deal with these two
classes of the poor!

Take first the class who are poor because they
cannot help it. If one wished to help them, would
it be wise to discourse to them about the spir-
itual dangers of poverty! Would it be either
kind or profitable to warn them that their pov-
erty was a condition which rendered it difficult

253

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

for them to develop the highest character? Doubt-
less there are moral lecturers who would be suffi-
ciently unintelligent, unsympathetic and unpeda-
gogical to proceed in that way; but Jesus was
not one who could thus *^ break the bruised reed"
or ** quench the smoking flax.'' If a man is in
a perilous situation from which he has no power
to extricate himself, it is the part of cruelty or
of folly to fix his attention upon the difficulties
and dangers which encompass him. What this
class of the poor primarily need above all else
is sympathy, encouragement, invigoration, the in-
spiration of hope. Hence, Jesus always spoke to
them in such terms as were calculated to inspire
and encourage. As we have seen, their poverty
inclined them to hear His message with gladness ;
but this does not imply that He regarded this
state as the ideal one in which they should re-
main. They needed encouragement, but that was
not all. They needed also to be warned against
the particular evil and hurtful dispositions which
their situation was likely to engender, such as
mental depression, bitterness of spirit, anxiety,
hatred of the rich, materialism, — for poverty may
produce a materialistic habit of mind which is
just as hard and just as fatal to all the higher
impulses of the soul as the selfish enjoyment of
riches. Now, this is exactly the kind of treat-
ment which the Good Physician of souls gave
the poor. Primarily He gave sympathy, inspired
hope, imparted vigor to the will; and He also

254

POVERTY AND DISTRIBUTION

pointed out the evil of mental depression, anxiety,
hatred, materialism; and sought to renew their
confidence in the Infinite Goodness and to con-
centrate their desires upon spiritual values.

The poor who came to their poverty through
their own fault He dealt with according to the
same principles. Although their poverty was the
result of moral delinquency, the treatment they
required was the same, except that in their case
emphasis needed to be placed upon the necessity
of inward moral renewal; and surely no one can
say that the method of Jesus was defective in
this latter respect. To them also in their dejec-
tion, bitterness, anxious care, materialism and
envious hatred of the prosperous He came not
with lectures upon the disadvantages of poverty,
but with sympathy, brotherliness, hope, inspira-
tion ; with the call to love and a spiritual valuation
of life ; and with pointed, even radical, emphasis
upon the need of being made anew in the moral
centre of their being.

It is not the purpose to convey the im-
pression that He dealt with these two classes
of the poor separately in His teaching. As
already indicated, that was entirely impracti-
cable because the two classes could not be
clearly marked off from one another. Our pur-
pose is to show that He dealt with poverty in-
telligently ; that He did not regard it as the most
desirable economic status, from His spiritual point
of view, and that He adapted His method to the

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PEOGRESS

actual moral needs of those who for any cause
found themselves in this unfortunate condition.
His manner of dealing with the rich was differ-
ent, because their situation and needs were dif-
ferent. They needed to have it forced home upon
their minds that the possession of wealth involved
certain spiritual dangers; because, in the first
place, it was necessary to dispel the deeply rooted
error that their wealth was a badge of spiritual
excellence, and, in the second place, because their
condition in which the moral danger inhered was,
unlike that of the poor, a matter of preference
and choice; and it was far more practicable for
them by an act of the will to extricate themselves
from the perilous situation in which they stood.
From the modern point of view another strik-
ing negative feature of the teaching of Jesus as
to wealth and its uses is the absence of any sig-
nificant reference to the question of wages, which
occupies so large a place in the present-day dis-
cussion of the problem. But perhaps we need
first to establish the fact of such an omission.
Some students have found, or think they have
found, in the parable of the householder who
went out to hire labourers for his vineyard a doc-
trine of wages which they pronounce very faulty
and pernicious.^ Certainly if Jesus meant in this
parable to teach a doctrine of wages, it is im-
possible to harmonize it with our sense of justice
or, we may add, with His other teachings. But

» Matthew 20:1-16.

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POVERTY AND DISTRIBUTION

is that what He intended? It is evident that it
is not. His purpose lay in an entirely different
direction, as a study of the context shows. He
had made the statement concerning the difficulty
of a rich man's entrance into the Kingdom. His
disciples were astonished. Peter, always ready
to speak out his crude thought, reminded his
Master that the disciples had forsaken all and
followed Him, and asked, **What shall we have,
therefore?'' In reply, Jesus assured him that
they should have an abundant reward, but inti-
mated that the rewards would be distributed not
according to any superficial rule, such as mere
priority of entrance into the Kingdom, but that
God would give rewards according to His clearer
perception of the relative value of their services.
It is often not the man whom men by their super-
ficial standards judge to have sacrificed most and
to be most worthy who really is most deserving.
God's appraisement is very different from men's;
not because it is more arbitrary, but because it
is based upon a deeper insight and a better stand-
ard of values. Who will deny this?

There seems also to be a reference to a yet
deeper truth, namely, that in the divine order of
the world some men are chosen for greater serv-
ices than others. This fact of functional distinc-
tions and gradations among men — a fact which no
conceivable organization of humanity could ever
set aside — can only be referred for explanation
to the inscrutable purpose which lies back of the
'' 257

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

universe, which by the religious soul must always
be conceived of as the divine will. But the selec-
tion of these chosen few does not seem an arbi-
trary preference of them over others as objects
of the divine favour. It may look to be so, be-
cause every action or process the reason or cause
of which does not appear to us, has the appear-
ance of being arbitrary. This aspect of life can
never be wholly removed so long as our knowledge
of the universe is limited. Jesus is here illustrat-
ing this fact. But the parable itself contains the
intimation that these persons so picked out for
the performance of greater tasks are not to be the
recipients of extraordinary privileges. If they
receive greater rewards than others, their rewards
are not of a material nature, and are based upon
their greater sacrifices and services.

Such were the great truths which He sought
to illustrate by a simile drawn from the economic
life of the time. He no more meant to approve
of this arbitrary method of compensating labour-
ers than He meant, in the use of the parable of
the unjust steward to illustrate a spiritual duty,
to approve of the conduct of that unrighteous
servant. He only sought by the use of the arbi-
trary action of this employer of labour to illus-
trate the fact that there are distinctions made
among men in the divine order of the world for
which our limited intelligence can discover no
reasons. Only the fact that some apparently
honest men have put a construction upon this

258

POVERTY AND DISTRIBUTION

parable that makes it teach an unjust doctrine of
wages can justify us in consuming time and space
to point out its obvious fallacy.

In truth, Jesus gives us no doctrine of wages.
Once He utters the truism, ''The labourer is
worthy of his hire;" but there He is speak-
ing not about economic labourers, but about
the right of His disciples to a living while
propagating His gospel. The omission is not
a matter of wonder. What we know as the
''wage system of labour,'' which constitutes a
problem of such magnitude for us, was not a
characteristic feature of the economic life of His
time ; and if it had been, He w^as not a teacher of
economics nor a labour agitator. He was teach-
ing great ethical principles, and incidentally mak-
ing apphcations of them to such concrete cases
as called for His decision. By those great prin-
ciples the wage system, like every other phase of
human relations, must be judged. An inevitable
inference from His principles is that an industrial
system is unjustifiable and inhuman which, on the
one hand, condemns a very large proportion of
its workers to maintain themselves on an income
which does not afford a basis for decent living,
much less the possibility of sharing in any of the
higher values of life; while it produces, on the
other hand, a class of millionaires and multi-mil-
lionaires who cannot squander their superfluous
riches in extravagant luxury. The only possible
way in which the industrial system can be made

259

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

to square with His principles is that it should
be so operated as to increase the income of the
labourers and reduce the income of the capitalist
to a standard of normal living, and this for the
sake of the spiritual welfare of both classes.

It seems, then, to be a reasonable inference
that Jesus regarded neither wealth nor penury
as an ideal condition for the furtherance of the
spiritual life. A modest competency according
to the standards of living in any age, without
any great disparity in the distribution of material
goods, would, so far as economic status is con-
cerned, accord mth His conception of life. When
one has sifted out of all His scattered utterances
as to wealth and poverty the fundamental prin-
ciples which underlie His whole treatment of the
subject, it is evident that they reduce themselves
to two : First, a superabundance of riches tends
to obscure in the human heart the need of God,
to inspire a false sense of security and independ-
ence, and at the same time to preoccupy and fill
the mind mth material concerns; while destitu-
tion produces despair, fear, anxiety, a material-
istic habit of mind, and weakened confidence in
the benevolent providence of God. Second, super-
abundance breeds pride, arrogance, and contempt
for the lowly; while want engenders bitterness
and hate for the prosperous. Great inequality in
material possessions, therefore, sunders men into
unfriendly, if not hostile, classes, and kills the
spiritual sympathy that should bind men together

260

POVERTY AND DISTRIBUTION

in a genuine brotherliood. Great economic dis-
parity is opposed to the progress of the Kingdom
in its two cardinal principles. It throws men into
wrong attitudes toward God and toward their
fellow-men, weakening or dissolving the two es-
sential bonds that unite men in the blessed, divine-
human fellowship out of wliich alone springs the
noblest life of the spirit. Not wealth in itself,
but inequitably distributed wealth is the ^^ mam-
mon of unrighteousness." It is clear, therefore,
that the ethic of Jesus calls for such a distribu-
tion of material goods as will do away with these
two extremes. It would abolish superabundance
on the one hand, and want on the other. The
former cannot exist without the latter, since they
are relative and measured by the average stand-
ard of living; and unless they are eliminated, it
is practically impossible to realize the Kingdom
of God in this world.

Does He, then, give any clear indication as to
how this equitable distribution is to be effected?
Certainly His method of accomplishing this great
result is neither superficial nor artificial. On one
occasion He positively declined to interfere in a
dispute about the division of an inherited prop-
erty.^ When asked to do so by one of the con-
testants. He answered, '^Man, who made me a
judge or a divider over youf and proceeded, no
doubt to the disgust of the man who had saught
His services, to deliver a solemn warning as to

2 Luke 12:13-21.

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

the danger of covetousness. It is a reasonable
inference from His treatment of this incident that
He would scornfully reject the foolish suggestion
to attempt a redistribution of property among
individuals. In the first place, in modern society
it would be practically impossible to determine
with any approach to accuracy just what each
man's equitable share of it is. A moment's
thought is sufficient for any rational mind to see
the monumental absurdity of such an undertaking.
All human energies are so inextricably interwoven
in a mesh of co-operative and antagonistic re-
actions that to ascertain the relative efficiency of
all these separate personal energies in the total
economic output would absolutely baffle any in-
telligence that was less than infinite; and if in-
finite intelligence should apply itself to the task
its decisions would so far transcend the possibility
of human understanding that they would render
the whole situation more profoundly mysterious
and unsatisfactory than ever.

But more to the practical point is the truth
so clearly intimated in Jesus' reply to this
man, that if an equitable division of property
among individuals were practicable and actu-
ally effected, it would not solve the problem
for one single day so long as men's hearts
were covetous and each was seeking to se-
cure for himself all that was possible. The sun
would not go down before some of these covetous
men would again have more and some less than

262

POVERTY AND DISTRIBUTION

their rightful share. On such a basis the infinite
wisdom and power would be called into requisi-
tion every twenty-four hours to effect an indi-
vidual redistribution of property. There are hu-
man tribunals which are makeshift expedients for
settling such disputed issues according to some
standard accepted and enforced by a majority
of the grasping and contesting seekers after per-
sonal advantage. But the ethic of Jesus brings
before the bar of a purified conscience, which
stands above the whole unseemly scramble for
rights, the very foundation principles on which
the civil tribunals base their judgments. The con-
ception of property which is embodied in the
political and economic organization of society is
ethically defective, and public administration
based on this conception never has realized jus-
tice and never can.

What 'is, then, this defective conception of
property? And over against it, what principle
does Jesus set up? The notion of property which
has long prevailed in the world is that it is some-
thing which a man ^^owns," that is, something
which he has the right, within certain vague and
shifting limits, to use as he pleases for his own
gratification. Those limits are not clearly defined,
but in general they are supposed to be found
where another man's right to use his property
according to his pleasure begins. Just where that
right begins and ends men have never been able
to determine with satisfaction. The line of de-

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

marcation is actually fixed by the relative strength
of opposing individuals and groups, and is con-
sequently always shifting. The most notable as-
pect of the situation, however, is that it is abso-
lutely necessary to observe some limits in order
that men may live together at all. The notion
that a man's property is something that he has
the right to use as he pleases does not and can-
not afford a basis of human association. The
basis of association is really the limitation im-
posed upon this right. The fact is that the sphere
in which this conception and use of property can
be scientifically justified becomes more and more
contracted as our knowledge of social relation
becomes more profound and exact, until it ap-
proximates very closely to the vanishing point.
From the point of view of sociological ethics one
is justified in doing as he pleases with his prop-
erty only in so far as Ms pleasure coincides with
the interests of the total group of which he is a
member. It may be granted that Robinson Cru-
soe, before his man Friday appeared, had the
right to do as he pleased with his property; but
it must also be granted that under such condi-
tion the very word ''property" ceased to have
any meaning, since it is a social concept. The
notion of property which underlies our political
and judicial administration is, therefore, defective
in the light of scientific sociology, which makes
it apparent that property is a social product and
must be administered in a social environment

264

POVERTY AND DISTRIBUTION

which imposes limitations upon its use at every
step.

This sodial conception of property runs par-
allel with the thought of Jesus; though it is
not identical with His thought. The principle of
Jesus is that ultimately and absolutely property
belongs to God ; men do not ^ ^ own * ' it, and should
not use it as they please, except on the condition
that their pleasure is identical with God's pur-
pose. God's purpose is the establishment of the
Kingdom — the reign of loving righteousness,
wherein all men are mutually stimulated and
helped to the realization of their noblest capaci-
ties. A man's property is, therefore, a trust
which he may not without sin administer for any
purpose except the promotion of the well-being
of his fellow-men, along with which his own
well-being is realized. He is not authorized to
expend any portion of it upon himself except as
it may be necessary to maintain and develop his
efficiency as a servant of God in the service of
men. This principle is quite in harmony with the
sociological doctrine that wealth is a social prod-
uct and should be administered as such, which it
adopts and fills with a positive religious content.
The sociological doctrine is true, but is cold and
comparatively destitute of the power to call into
play the deeper emotions of human nature wliich
are needed to give it dynamic efficiency. It needs
to have breathed into it religious conviction and
passion. Scientific men themselves are coming to

265

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

realize that in some way the scientific conception
of social relations and, in particular, the scientific
conception of property, must be converted into
a sort of religion, must be harnessed to those pro-
found instincts which have always been the
springs of powerful and overmastering emotions,
before it can grip and sway the wills of the
masses of men and become effective as a social
control. The doctrine of Jesus lifts the scientific
conception at once on to the plane of religion,
consecrates it and marries it to that mighty spir-
itual passion which alone has been found able to
lift man above the limitations of his lower nature
and expand his self-centred individuality into a
genial consciousness of fellowship with humanity.
Now, this is the method of Jesus for securing
an equitable distribution of material well-being
among men. This mode of viewing wealth, this
spiritual conception of life, must become preva-
lent in the minds of men, or of a sufficient number
of them, at least, to give shape to the economic
and legal organization of society. This method
does not commend itself to many so-called ** prac-
tical" men. It is too indirect and seems to post-
pone the day of equity to an infinitely distant
time. It looks to them like a sidetracking of the
whole enterprise, the involvement of the whole
issue in a fog of mysticism which clear-eyed, hard-
headed men of the modern world seek to avoid.
Very well. What, then, is proposed in its stead ?
There are three programs offered:

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POVERTY AND DISTRIBUTION

First, it is proposed by the teaching of Social
Science to lead men into the better way. Science
will effect social regeneration. The defect in this
program is that it proceeds upon the false as-
sumption that men do wrong only because they
do not know better, an assumption which is nega-
tived by the experience of every human being
every day that he lives. Knowledge is good, is
indispensable. The man of the noblest motives
may destroy himself and others through igno-
rance. By all means we must have science; but
that is far from being sufficient. Knowledge di-
rects, but it is feeling that impels. As indicated,
scientific men are realizing more and more keenly
the necessity of establishing a connection between
their scientific conclusions, so convincing to the
intellect and so ineffectual in practice, and the
mighty dynamo of social emotion. Thus Pro-
fessor Ross says: ^* There are some who hold
that science can replace idealism in our system
of motives. Now, it is well that all codes of re-
quirement— legal, moral, religious — should be fre-
quently overhauled by the sociologists so that we
shall not encourage things hurtful to the common
good, or discourage things agreeable to the com-
mon good. But in getting people to observe these
rectified rules of social morality the truths of
sociology are of little help. The stimulus, aye,
there's the rub! It is easy to improve the con-
tents of the moral code without improving its
grip. . . . Open-eyed selfishness is better than

267

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

blind selfishness. But this does nothing to re-
deem man from the ape and the tiger in him.
. . . The palm, then, must belong to that in-
fluence that goes to the root of man's badness
and by giving him more interests and sympathies
converts a narrow self into a broad self. ' '

Second, it is proposed to develop a religion
of humanity, leaving out the notion of a real, ob-
jective God. Science, they assume, and sometimes
expressly declare, has rendered it impracticable
to believe any longer in God, except as a mere
idealization of the social group. God, we are
told, has the same sort of reality as ^ * Uncle Sam, ' '
and only that. The real spring of the religious
enthusiasm of the future will be humanity. The
enthusiasm for humanity must be developed into
a religion of sufficient power to give dynamic ef-
ficiency to scientific concepts as the regenerators
of society. Now, it lies beyond the scope of the
present undertaking to go into the question
whether it is practicable to establish a real re-
ligion for real men without a God who is as real
as they are ; but we venture to assert that it will
be psychologically impossible for a man to ex-
perience a single thrill of genuine religious emo-
tion the moment after his instincts as well as his
intellect have been divested of the assumption that
there is an objective, substantial reality corre-
sponding to the idea of God. But apart from
that, it looks like a ' ^ hope deferred which maketh
the heart sick," if the inauguration of the pro-

268

POVERTY AND DISTRIBUTION

gram of social justice must await the establish-
ment and prevalence of a new religion which be-
gins with the elimination of the one conviction
which has been the soul of every religion that has
yet arisen and spread among men, with the single
exception of the paralyzing faith of Buddhism;
and indeed, this could not become a popular re-
ligion except by including faith in a god. The
proposition really is to take the religion of Jesus,
cut the heart out of it, and then expect it thus
mangled to breathe into scientific concepts the
energy which will enable them to pervade and
master human society. In one breath they tell
us that science needs religion to make its knowl-
edge effective; in the next breath they tell us
that science has rendered impossible the con-
tinued belief in God as an objective, real Being,
which belief alone has ever rendered a religion
effective as a means of invigorating the human
will. In a word, science can be rendered effective
only by religion, which science itself renders in-
effective.

A third proposition is that social justice must
come as the result of a universal socialization of
industry. There are two methods contemplated
or proposed for securing this result. According
to one, it is to be accomplished by the state. The
organ of government is to be more and more com-
pletely democratized, i. e., made immediately and
thoroughly responsive to the will of the masses
of the people; at the same time governmental

269

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROORESS

control over economic activities is to be extended
until all capitalized industry shall be owned col-
lectively and operated by the democratized state.
Meanwhile the several governments of the world
are to be brought into one organization, which
will eliminate industrial competition between
them. According to the second view, the uni-
versal socialization of industry must come as the
inevitable issue of the historic conflict of classes.
The labourers, who constitute the oppressed and
exploited class, are to be united, disciplined in
collective action until they shall become strong
enough to take control of the world's industries
and manage them. Naturally there is consider-
able indefiniteness as to how this vast scheme is
to be worked out in detail, and a great diversity
among those who forecast its development. But
all of them expect that class-conflict will ulti-
mately be abolished; that collective production
and distribution will prevail; that the workers
throughout the world will be organized into one
co-operative system, and so competition between
individuals, between industrial groups, and be-
tween nations will cease; that war will become
an obsolete trait of a barbaric past.

These schemes are alluring in their magnifi-
cence. The organization of humanity into one
vast co-operative system of workers is a consum-
mation devoutly to be desired. The goal proposed
in this program can hardly be objected to by any
man of large vision and generous spirit. But we

270

POVERTY AND DISTEIBUTION

must ask whether it can ever be obtained by the
methods proposed. We shall not stop to dwell
upon the question whether it will be possible for
men to develop administrative genius equal to
the task of organizing and controlling the indus-
tries of the world as a unitary system; whether
it would be humanly possible to operate it with-
out serious and interminable maladjustments
which would be full of peril for all cultural as
well as economic interests, and especially whether
it would be practicable to do it when the adminis-
trators on whose shoulders such an unprecedented
task would devolve would have to be selected by
the masses of the people through universal and
equal suffrage; whether, in a word, it is prac-
ticable to educate average humanity up to the
point w^here ordinary people throughout the world
would be capable of criticising intelligently the
administration of an economic system so vast and
so infinitely complicated.

But let us grant that the necessary ability
of this kind may ultimately be developed. We
have, to be sure, little ground to be pessim-
istic as to the potential administrative capaci-
ties of man. Results have been accomplished
in the development of administrative talents
among men which would have seemed impos-
sible a hundred or two years ago. If one
contemplates that administrative miracle, the
British Empire, and remembers that it is based
on popular suffrage; or if one considers that

271

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGEESS

a small group of men in America have in
their hands the management of such industrial
organizations as the oil and steel trusts, and the
railway combination, and have brought these huge
enterprises into co-operative relations with one
another; and if one bears in mind, further, that
these enterprises probably might be just as effi-
ciently managed collectively on the basis of popu-
lar suffrage, he mil have his confidence in this
form of human capacity so strengthened that it
will be difficult indeed to shake it.

Lea^dng aside, then, as not incapable of solu-
tion the problem growing out of the magnitude
of the administrative task, a more serious question
arises as to man's moral capacity for such an
enterprise. The scheme does not presuppose any
fundamental ethical change in human nature. It
goes rather upon the assumption that the moral
obliquity of man is the result of the social en-
vironment. Born and bred in a social system
which is full of selfish competition and struggle,
men are made selfish. In order to survive in such
an environment they have to suppress their
nobler, brotherly impulses and war against those
whom they normally should and would help. The
evil social order warps and distorts that which
is naturally sound, healthful, upright. Therefore,
it is the social order and not human nature that
needs to be changed. It is this half-truth which
constitutes the fatal error of this scheme of social
redemption. True, a social environment which

272

POVERTY AND DISTRIBUTION

is shot through and through with the struggle
of selfish individual and group interests stimu-
lates and develops the e\di propensities of human
nature. This fact I have sought to emphasize
in other sections of this book, and unquestionably
far more serious attention needs be given to this
important matter ; but, per contra j when one asks
whence came this evil social order, the only pos-
sible answer is that it is the creation of this same
human nature. An evil social system was not
created by some outside power and imposed upon
innocent, pure, loving men. The system is itself
a creation of human nature. Somehow — and into
this theological question this is not the time to
go — somehow human nature got wrong at the be-
ginning and produced this social system, against
which the advocates of this scheme have brought
such a severe and true indictment. The nature
of man is responsible for the system, and the
system goes on accentuating the perversity of the
nature out of which it sprang. A well-founded
objection lies equally against the theory that the
system is good and only the nature needs to be
changed, and the counter theory that the nature
is good and only the system needs to be changed.
Such a separation of the nature of man from the
human environment is negatived both by science
and by the ethic of Jesus.

The method of Jesus, then, is clearly differ-
entiated from all these schemes of social regenera-
tion; and yet it takes up into itself and fulfills

^* 273

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

the essential truth of all of them. It is in agree-
ment with the sociologists in their scientific analy-
sis of social relations ; but suppKes what it lacks,
a dynamic principle. It agrees with the ethical
idealists in the passion for humanity; but sup-
plies the only enduring fountain whence that
passion can spring. It agrees with the socialists
in their longing for a universal co-operative,
brotherly organization of mankind; but declares
that human nature as well as the social organiza-
tion springing from it needs to be changed in
order to realize this ideal, and addresses itself
to the whole task instead of only one-half of it,
which is impossible of accomplishment without the
other.

Jesus does not touch the issue as to collective
or individual administration of wealth. He deals
with the matter more fundamentally. The root
of the whole trouble is that men misconceive the
value and use of wealth in the scheme of life and
their proper relation to it. When once men can
come to perceive that wealth is not owned by man
at all; that there is none of it which he has the
right to do with as he pleases ; that it belongs to
God, and must be used in God's service; that it
must not be used for any purpose except the
building up of all men in the higher possibilities
of life — when once this conception of wealth is
accepted by men in good faith it will be a com-
paratively easy matter to determine as to the best
policy of administering it. The respective merits

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POVERTY AND DISTRIBUTION

and demerits of private ownersliip and of col-
lective ownership can then be considered with
calmness and judicial fairness. The question now
can hardly be broached without arousing the most
violent selfish passions of human nature ; because,
first, men feel toward wealth as if it were in itself
the essential value ; and second, because they think
of it as their property, exclusively their own, some
small fractions of which they may devote to the
public good if they prefer, but all of which they
have the right to devote to their own enjoyment,
wliile against tliis use of it other men either indi-
vidually or collectively can make no legitimate
protest. And so long as this feeling about wealth
prevails in the hearts of men it will never be pos-
sible to reach an amicable arrangement for its
administration. Under any conceivable scheme of
social organization wealth thus conceived would
continue to be a bone of contention, and in some
way or other the strong men would secure an
inequitable share of material enjoyment. When
the doctrine of Jesus is really accepted the ques-
tion as to what method of administering wealth
will best subserve the purposes of the Kingdom
can be discussed and determined without becloud-
ing the visions of men with selfish passion, be-
cause their affections will have been detached
from the worship of it and attached to the higher
ends to which it should ever be subordinated as a
means. So long as men worship wealth, or so
long as they over-value the sensuous satisfactions

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

wliieh wealth affords, an equitable distribution of
material well-being ^ill be impossible.

The scheme of Jesus is the really practicable
one ; and if the orthodox Christians, the scientific
sociologists, the ethical idealists, the socialists,
and all others of whatever persuasion or name,
who wish to see justice prevail among men, would
mth complete devotion join hands in promoting
the gospel of the Kingdom, the approximate reali-
zation of the glorious ideal would be brought so
near that children now in their mothers' arms
would live to see the most profound and benefi-
cent change in social life that has taken place in
the whole history of mankind.

27G

CHAPTER IV

THE FAMILY

The family is the only institution to which Jesus
made any definite application of His principles;
and as to this His recorded words are few and
relate principally to a particular phase of the
general problem. This particular phase is not
discussed at length. His most extended remarks
were called forth by a specific question which He
answered, and in answering which He made refer-
ence to certain practices current among the people
represented by the questioners. One could wish
that He had gone into the subject more fully and
expressed Himself as to aspects of it which now
so urgently confront us. But that was not His
way. We need again to be reminded that He
did not undertake the detailed solution of social
problems; and with a clearer comprehension
of the nature of the Kingdom and the method
of its realization, the wisdom of His course be-
comes more apparent. Situations change; in-
stitutions undergo modifications; social problems
assume different forms. Ethical principles re-
main the same from age to age ; but ethical rules,
which are the applications of principles to par-
ticular situations or types of situations, may vary
for the very reason that the principles do not
change.

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

But if His remarks as to the family were brief,
they were very much to the point and very em-
phatic.^ The various reports of this conversation
recorded in the three Gospels may be noted,
though it is doubtful if any significant or safe
conclusions can be based upon these variations.
In Matthew the matter is referred to twice ; once
without any reference to the questioning of the
Pharisees. In the first passage it is declared that
a man who puts away his wife, except for forni-
cation, causes her to commit adultery; in the sec-
ond, if he puts her away (except for fornication)
and marries another, he commits adultery. In
Mark and Luke the statement is made without
qualification that a man who divorces his wife
and marries another commits adultery; while
Matthew introduces the qualifying clause, ^ * except
for the cause of fornication. ' ' Matthew and Luke
add that whoever marries the divorced woman
commits adultery. Mark adds that the woman
who puts away her husband and marries another
commits adultery. If all the statements be con-
sidered as complementary to one another and be
combined into one, we have it declared — first, that
marriage should be indissoluble except for one
cause ; that to divorce one's wife, except for forni-
cation, causes her to commit adultery — this state-
ment apparently supposes the remarriage of the
divorced wife; third, that to divorce one's wife,
save for the one cause, and to marry another

^Matthew 5:31. 32; 19:3-9; Mark 10:2-12; Luke 16:ia
278

THE FAMILY

is to commit adultery; fourth, that to divorce
one's husband and to marry another is to com-
mit adultery. It is not expressly stated, but may
be fairly assumed, that the qualifying condition,
** except for fornication,*' would apply in the lat-
ter case also; unless one eliminates it altogether
as an unauthourized addition to the words of
Jesus, as some do. This is based upon the sup-
position that it is more probable that one evan-
gelist would add this phrase to the words of
Jesus than that the other two would omit it. But
this is not convincing.

Now, such a combination of the passages yields
a doctrine of the marital relation which, while
specific and emphatic upon certain points, mani-
festly does not determine all the issues that may
and do arise. In the first place, it is not decisive
as to the question concerning the moral right of
the innocent party to remarry in the case of a
divorce based on the ground of fornication. Ac-
cording to the statement in Mark and Luke, re-
marriage would seem to be absolutely forbidden;
but if Matthew's qualifying condition be under-
stood, the question as to the privilege of remar-
riage for the innocent party under such circum-
stances is not determined. In the second place,
fornication alone is mentioned as the ground
which justifies divorce. If the word be taken in
its strict meaning, as a sexual offense committed
before marriage, then the inference would be that
sexual unfaithfulness after marriage — that is,

279

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

adultery — would not constitute a justifying causo
for divorce; and the words * 'fornication'' and
** adultery" are so used here in close connection
with one another as to make the impression that
the distinction between them was present in the
mind of Jesus. And yet it is hardly conceivable
that He meant to take the position that the
discovery that ilhcit sexual relations had existed
before marriage would constitute a permissible
ground of divorce while the commission of such
an offense after marriage would not. The con-
clusion, then, is irresistible; either that Jesus
used the word ^^fornication" in a general and in-
definite sense as inclusive of all illicit sexual acts,
whether committed before or after marriage, or
that He did not intend to specify every possible
ground that would justify divorce. The proba-
bility is strongly in favour of the former alterna-
tive, that fornication is here used in a general
sense and is to be understood as having reference
to any sexual violation of the marriage compact.
It is apparent, however, that these passages, al-
though explicit on certain points, leave some as-
pects of the problem unsettled. The most devout
and competent commentators, therefore, have
never been able to reach unanimity as to some
important questions in the interpretation of these
passages.

But if all the issues as to divorce which arise
are not definitely settled for the Christian con-
science, the fundamental ones are. There can be

280

THE FAMILY

no doubt at all that Jesus placed a heavy emphasis
upon the sacredness of the marriage tie, and it
is practically certain that He recognized but one
cause for divorce — namely, the act which is itself
a severance of the marital bond. He also forbids
with clear and unmistakable emphasis the remar-
riage of the guilty party. As before said, there
is a reasonable doubt whether this prohibition
applies to the innocent party. The probability
is that it does, but there seems to be a sufficient
lack of definiteness as to this issue to exclude
dogmatism and intolerance.

Jesus discussed marriage as a religious insti-
tution. He contemplated social life from the re-
ligious point of view, and invested it with religious
meaning. He was seeking to establish the King-
dom of God, an organization of human life in
accordance with the will of God. In His utter-
ances as to marriage, therefore. He appealed
immediately to the divine purpose underlying the
institution. That purpose is written in the con-
stitution of human nature ; and, as He interpreted
it, calls for the lifelong union of one man with
one woman. Marriage is an ordinance of God.
Its ultimate sanction is the divine will. To make
of it a transient connection of a man and woman,
a mere convenience for the gratification of indi-
vidual impulses and passions, is a desecration, a
sin. It cannot be dissolved without sin. **What
God hath joined together, let not man put asun-
der.*' The sin of adultery ipso facto dissolves

281

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

it, because it is fundamentally a physical union
of a man and a woman for the purpose of pro-
creation; and adultery is a breach of the union
by one of the persons who are sacredly pledged
to each other in this function. Divorce is per-
missible under such circumstances because it is
nothing more than a public social recognition of
the accomplished rupture of the bond.

But to Jesus the procreative purpose for
which marriage primarily exists is a very sa-
cred one. Out of it spring the fundamental
relations which human beings sustain to one
another — parenthood, childhood, brotherhood —
around which gather the tenderest of natural
sentiments and which are capable of becom-
ing the bearers of those liigher spiritual mean-
ings which He desired to put into all the re-
lations of men. The family is, so to speak, the
mould in which His conception of the Kingdom
of God is cast. By making fatherhood and broth-
erhood the basal ideas in His doctrine of the
Kingdom He gave to the family the highest pos-
sible consecration. He declared Himself to be
the Son of the Eternal Father. His mission was
to reveal the Father and to bring men into a filial
attitude toward God; to establish between God
and man the relationship of fatherhood and son-
ship. Men are thus brought into the realization
of a brotherhood with one another which is un-
speakably more intimate and vital than a mere
community of physical life. These terms — f ather-

282

THE FAMILY

hood, sonship, brotherhood — can have no meaning
apart from pure family life. The pure family
life is the human model, so to speak, of the spir-
itual universe as He sought to organize it. If the
family be desecrated and degraded, those rela-
tionships in terms of which He expresses the
Kingdom are emptied of their meaning. The
family, then, is a sort of preparatory school for
the Kingdom. In the family experiences men
form those primary concepts of human relations
which He expands into spiritual meanings. It
is, therefore, vitally related to the progress of
the Kingdom, and, from the point of view of Jesus,
is the most important and precious of human in-
stitutions. Doubtless that is the reason why He
did for the family what He did for no other ex-
isting institution — paused, in the midst of His
work of unfolding the fundamental principles of
life, to make a specific application of His prin-
ciples to it, and thus fixed it definitely as an es-
sential factor in that order of human society
which was ultimately to be constituted in ac-
cordance with His ideals.

But the institution of marriage, while it has
religious sanction and interpretation, is so related
to the social life that it must come under the con-
trol of the community. It has its foundation in
the physiological constitution of human beings;
its primary purpose is the reproduction or multi-
plication of the species. But with human beings
this biological function is performed on the moral

283

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

level of life ; and it is this fact wHcli gives to the
institution of marriage its peculiar character and
forever distinguishes it from the mating of ani-
mals. As marriage involves, besides the physio-
logical relation, moral relations of the most im-
portant and intimate character, it is of necessity
subject to moral sanction and social control. It
is a social as well as a biological institution;
and if logically the biological function is primary,
in the order of importance the social is of, equal
or superior value. Through it society is perpetu-
ated ; but society, it should be remembered, is more
than a mere aggregation of physical beings; it
is a moral order. The task devolved upon the
family, therefore, is not merely to bring human
beings into physical existence, but to initiate them
into a moral and social world. It stands at the
strategic point in the social process. It is pivotal.
In it society is renewing itself. Consequently, the
family is the most vital institution in society. To
say that this supreme function should be exempted
from social control, that men should be permitted
to mate and propagate under the domination of
sexual impulse alone, is equivalent to saying that
the social group should abdicate control over the
processes of its own perpetuation and develop-
ment. The mating of men and women is par ex-
cellence a social act. It is not at all a mere matter
of individual attractions and repulsions. Those
who marry assume definite obligations to one an-
other, but fundamentally the obligation assumed

284

THE FAMILY

is to society, which has the right, therefore, to
define the conditions of entrance into this relation,
the character of the obligations it involves, and
the conditions on which it may be disrupted. Out
of it grow some of the most important questions
of social policy. What conditions ought society
to impose upon those who seek to enter into this
relationship ? Manifestly, the answer to this ques-
tion at any given time will be determined by two
considerations, the actual conditions of social life
and the ideal which is gniiding society in its ad-
justments.

The institution of the family dates from the
beginning of human society. It has varied greatly
in form with the changing conditions in social
development, because it is so intimately and in-
extricably linked up with the whole organization
of life. The social history of man has been a vast
process of experimentation in methods and forms
of associated life. Three general forms of family
life have been pretty thoroughly tried out —
monogamy, polyandry, and polygamy. Since the
epoch-making work of Westermarck, the theory
of original promiscuity in sexual relations has
been for the most part abandoned by ethnologists
and sociologists. Through many variations, re-
actions and confusions, the general and on the
whole steady trend has been toward monogamy
as the type of conjugal relation which human ex-
perience has found the most satisfactory and
promotive of social progress. On the whole, also,

285

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

the trend has been toward the permanency of the
relation, though this trend has perhaps been less
obvious and less steady than that toward monog-
amy. Sometimes the tendency has seemed to be,
and doubtless has been, in the direction of insta-
bihty and laxity. Such a time was that in which
Jesus lived; and such a time is this in which we
live. Marital ties were unusually lax then, and
the laxity now is so great as to cause profound
concern to all thoughtful people. It is probably
true, however, that at such times the increasing
laxity of the conjugal tie coincides with a general
instability in the whole organized life of society.
There come periods when all institutional life be-
comes relatively unstable. They are called
periods of transition. All periods are transi-
tional, because absolute equilibrium never exists
in a living organism, biological or social; but at
times the transition is much more rapid than at
others. At such epochs new forces are coming
into play; there is a general redistribution of
social energy; reorganization is going on at an
unwonted pace every^vhere, accompanied by an
inevitable disorganization of existing structures.
All institutions will then be more or less affected,
but not all equally. The reorganizing process is
always primarily concerned with or related to one
or more institutions as centers of change; and
other institutions will he more or less profoundly
affected in proportion as they are more or less
closely related to that group of institutions with

286

THE FAMILY

which the process of change is primarily con-
cerned and from which as a centre it radiates over
the general field of social relations.

In studying the problem of the family it is
important to bear in mind the principle which
we have just stressed. In the time of Jesus the
centre of change was in the political organization
— the incorporation of practically all people in
one vast political empire. This has previously
been discussed and need not be dwelt upon here.
The organization of society in our time is enor-
mously more complex than any that ever before
existed; and in this wonderful transitional epoch
it is possible to locate at least two definite centres
of disturbance and reorganization, which are
doubtless closely related and directly react upon
one another, but neither of which is genetically
dependent upon the other. One is in the field of
science, and the other in the field of economic life.

The marvelous development of science has pro-
foundly modified our general modes of thinking
and our views of the world. And this is true not
alone of those who have devoted themselves to
scientific investigation. Science has become a sort
of atmospheric influence and affects the mental
attitude of the great multitude. The typical man
of this age approaches the great questions of life
and deals with them in a way strikingly different
from that in which men generally did in ancient
and mediaeval times. That superficiality has to a
great extent characterized the scientific movement

287

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

and method, especially in its more popular phases,
is obvious. This perhaps was inevitable; and
there is good reason to believe that it will be
temporary. But certainly the immediate effect
has been a widespread uncertainty as to the funda-
mental verities of the Christian faith and a gen-
eral lightening of the religious sanctions. Ec-
clesiastical authority, in particular, has been so
seriously undermined that in all the most ad-
vanced societies it has either entirely collapsed
or is tottering to its fall. How this has affected
the family is obvious. During the Middle Age the
church took over from the state the control of
the institution of marriage. This took place at
a time when the organization of the Roman state
was in process of dissolution and the church was
the only institution left that was equal to the task
of integrating society. Into that remarkable his-
tory there is neither time nor space in this dis-
cussion to go ; but the transference took place, and
under the dominance of the church divorce was
absolutely proliibited and made a sin. Now the
functions of the church are being restricted; the
state is assuming again the control of marriage ;
and the general lightening of the religious sanc-
tion of conduct, along with the decline of the
power of the church as an external authority,
is one of the influences that have worked toward
the present instability of the family.

Perhaps an even more powerful and pervasive
influence in the same direction has emanated from

288

THE FAMILY

the marvelous industrial development which has
taken place in the last one hundred and fifty years.
It is only with difficulty that a man living now
can realize how profoundly the whole social or-
ganization has been modified by that development.
If, by imagination, one transports himself back
into the era that preceded the great industrial
revolution of the eighteenth century, he will find
himself in a very different world. The whole
structure of society has since then undergone
change. It has become enormously more com-
plex than it was. This has tended to specialize,
individualize the population; and this has been
one of the most potent of the causes that have
democratized government and spread the spirit of
individual liberty throughout all the relations of
men. Years ago Sir Henry Maine pointed out
the significant fact that in modern life a very great
number of the relations in which persons stand
with one another have come to rest on the basis
of contract, whereas in former times they rested
on the basis of status. That is, formerly the re-
lations in which persons stood were determined
for them; they were born into them, and thought
little of changing them ; while now they enter into
them voluntarily. Certainly the change in this
respect has been remarkable, and it has been due
in no small measure to the industrial transforma-
tion.

Another effect has been the wholesale secu-
larization of life. The last hundred years, to

289

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

speak in round numbers, has been supremely
characterized by mechanical inventions and their
widespread application. The great majority of
men have been prevailingly absorbed in the ex-
tension of their control over and utilization of
natural forces, and in reaping the material re-
wards of their increasing mastery over nature.
It has become a mighty passion, turning in the di-
rection of secular industry a stupendous volume
of human energy. Religious contemplation and
theological speculation which once gave occupa-
tion to the majority of minds have almost become
* * lost arts ' ' for most men. Their mental interests
and energies are drained off into channels of busi-
ness activity. This has powerfully reinforced the
influences which emanate from the field of science
and which have worked toward the weakening
of ecclesiastical authority and of religious sanc-
tions in general. Religion has not been driven
from the field. Far from it. But religious faith
where it has survived has been * individualized ''
and more or less ^^rationalized." People think
for themselves in this sphere as well as in others ;
perhaps even more freely than in other matters;
and accept as much or as little of the religious
dogmas as they see fit. In contributing to this
blurring of religious conviction and destruction of
organized religious control, modern industrialism
has aided greatly in removing or seriously crip-
pling the one authourity which forbade the dis-
ruption of the conjugal tie.

290

THE FAMILY

Industrialism has negatively contributed to the
instability of the family by removing in large part
another cohesive influence which has been opera-
tive since the beginning of society. A notable
aspect of the industrial development has been a
wholesale transference of economic activities from
the home to outside organizations. This process
has not attracted as much attention as its im-
portance deserves. Only a little thought is re-
quired to disclose its important bearing upon the
structure and permanence of the family. The
home or household of former times was an indus-
trial institution of no mean proportions. Many
very important economic activities were carried
on in the home even a hundred years ago ; and the
further back one looks, the more one finds eco-
nomic production centred in the household. At
the present time in the cities and towns the home
has almost entirely ceased to be the location of
any productive economic activity ; and in the rural
districts the trend is in the same direction, though
doubtless the rural home can never be so com-
pletely changed in this respect as the city home
has been.

Some economists maintain that while pro-
ductive industry has been transferred from the
home, the home still has a most important eco-
nomic function to perform in the control of con-
sumption, over which it is the especial privilege
and task of the wife to preside. This is true,
and apparently must continue to be true in some

291

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

measure. But it is worthy of note that the prac-
tice of living in flats, boarding-houses and hotels,
which is so rapidly increasing in the large com-
munities, tends to reduce even tliis to a minimum.
The elimination of the economic occupations from
the home removes one of the factors that greatly
contributed to the permanency of the conjugal
bond. The breaking up of a family now does not
involve so serious an upsetting of the economic
life of the parties as it formerly did.

The influence of industrialism has been posi-
tive as well as negative. It has positively con-
tributed to the instability of the family in several
ways. In the first place, the change in the in-
dustrial character of the household has left less
for women to do in the home, in all the strata of
society. Among the rich it leads naturally to the
luxurious idleness, the ennui and the discontent
of women; and what more natural than that one
whose life is so splendidly devoid of all imperative
tasks, who is without any real occupation except
the passive one of being pampered and petted,
should become whimsical, capricious and impatient
of all binding obligations and fall a victim to the
temptation to engage in exciting — ^because illicit —
intrigues 1 It would be a cruel slander to intimate
that all rich women do thus degenerate. There
may be found among them many of the best and
purest characters, loyal \^dves and mothers who
devote their surplus time and money to the service
of humanity. But it is nevertheless true that a

292

THE FAMILY

life of wealth and leisure places a severe strain
upon the character, to which many succumb. It
is not at all unnatural that among the * ^ four hun-
dred'' marital fidelity is not highly prized.

The removal of these occupations from the
home affects the women of the middle class in
a different way. It enlarges their leisure; but,
being without the means of luxurious self-indul-
gence, they are more likely to utilize the time in
self-culture, in literary labour, or in some form
of associative work for civic improvement. Di-
rectly this does not impair the stability of the
family, but indirectly it may have that tendency.
It promotes the independence and self-assertion
of women; it deepens their consciousness of in-
dividual personality and of personal right, and
renders them less tolerant of male dereliction,
less submissive to abuse, less patient of neglect,
less willing to grant to men the right to play fast
and loose with marriage vows. In this way it
may and probably does tend to increase the num-
ber of separations; and yet we can hardly ques-
tion that this is really a helpful and encouraging
aspect of this problematical situation.

At the lower end of the economic scale the
disintegrating effect upon the home is quite as
manifest as at the upper, and is equally as de-
plorable. The vast increase of wealth has raised
the standard of living for all classes. Especially
in the middle and upper strata of the population
has the standard been very greatly raised, be-

293

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

cause incomes have so largely increased. This
reacts naturally to raise the level of desires
among the labouring people ; but wages have been
by no means proportionately raised. The dis-
parity between the labouring man's desires and
his income has greatly increased beyond what it
used to be. Meanwhile prices have risen phe-
nomenally in recent years. The net result is a
profound and universal discontent in that class
of the population. This discontent reacts hurt-
fully upon the home life, becomes a source of bad
temper and irritation in the family life, and weak-
ens the marital bonds. At the same time the wife
under the economic pressure often follows the
industry which once was carried on in the home
into the factory, whither it has been transferred ;
and this disorganizes the domestic life and adds
to the confusion and dissatisfaction. There is
little wonder that among people who are thus situ-
ated separations, desertions and divorces are mul-
tiplying.

Again, the trend toward putting all the rela-
tions of men upon a contractual basis has extended
to marriage. Under the dominance of this tend-
ency, coupled with the individualistic conception
of life which has become so general, multitudes
of people have come to regard marriage as simply
a contract between two individuals. Why, then,
should it not be dissolved at the will of the con-
tracting parties? When other contracts become

294

THE FAMILY

irksome or unprofitable to those who have entered
into them, they may be annulled. Or when one
of the parties fails to observe his obhgations as-
sumed in a compact, legal provisions are made
for the injured party to obtain relief or redress.
Why, these people reason, should not the marriage
contract be subject to the same principle!

Furthermore, these modern ideas, which, if
they have not originated in the scientific and in-
dustrial movements, have certainly been power-
fully promoted by them, have affected women as
well as men. Women, too, have become * indi-
vidualized" and are claiming personal rights on
a parity with men. Somewhat more slowly, but
not less surely, her relations in society are being
transferred from the basis of status to the basis
of free contract. She is demanding personal
rights. She is holding the husband to a perform-
ance of the marital contract with increasing strict-
ness, as he has always held her. The wife no
longer tolerates things which she used to have to
tolerate; and there is no aspect of the present
problem of the family more notable than the fact
that almost exactly two-thirds of the divorces
obtained to-day are sought by wives. The
double standard of conjugal fidelity cannot much
longer stand the increasing strain upon it. It
is hopelessly discredited. It dies h^rd, but it dies.
This will be so excellent a result of the tendencies
now going on that one may well question whether

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

it will not be an ample compensation for all the
confusion and moral dangers of the present dis-
turbances.

It is apparent, then, that the causes which
have brought about the present laxity as to di-
vorce and the instability of family life are deeply
rooted in social conditions. Thoughtful observers
of our social life have been profoundly concerned,
and the not unnatural impulse was to turn to
restrictive or prohibitive legislation as a means
of stemming the tide. Since the state has re-
sumed control of marriage, let it take a position
with regard to it similar to that which the church
took when the control was in its hands. In re-
sponse to this demand the state has for some
decades been steadily restricting the grounds on
which divorce may be obtained and, in general,
trying to rivet more tightly the marriage bond.
But despite this attitude of the state, the divorce
rate has steadily and rapidly increased; and, as
before noted, two-thirds of the legal separations
have been granted at the request of wives. The
conviction is growing that restrictive legislation
fails to meet the situation. It doubtless has some
value. It at least has some educational value as
a social protest, but it clearly is only to a limited
extent effective. Nothing will be effective except
a remedy which reaches to the sources of the
trouble. How should we, then, proceed to avert
the dangers that threaten the family, and lift the

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THE FAMILY

institution to a higher level than it has ever oc-
cupied?

Before seeking to determine specifically what
the effective remedy must be, let us ask whether
the situation is really worse than it was in the
days when, under the domination of the Roman
Church, divorce was absolutely forbidden. The
real value of the family is conserved not by a
merely formal maintenance of the marriage tie as
indissoluble ; it lies rather in the real observance
of the obligations wliich the marriage bond im-
poses. The great interests intended to be con-
served by the conjugal relation are three: first,
the moral discipline of the husband and wife, who
in living together in such intimacy are called upon
to exercise a high degree of self-control, to prac-
tice the subordination of egoistic impulses and
consideration for one another. Second, sexual
purity. It was clear ethical insight which con-
nected together the law of sexual purity and the
inviolability of the marriage bond.^ The institu-
tion of marriage affords the only proper method
of satisfying the sexual impulse while restricting
it to its proper function in the propagation of
the race. In no other way can this powerful im-
pulse be at once gratified and kept under the con-
trol of moral law. Third and chiefly, procreation
and the proper physical and moral care of chil-
dren. Now, none of these three great interests

» Matthew 5:27-32.

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

can be secured by a merely formal maintenance of
the husband-wife relation. And the truth of this
proposition has been abundantly demonstrated
during the period when divorce was absolutely
forbidden. For centuries the Roman Church
prohibited the separation of husband and wife,
and does so yet in those lands where it maintains
its control over marriage. But under such con-
ditions sexual laxity and the birth of illegitimate
children have prevailed to a scandalous extent.
The marital union has been rigidly maintained in
form, but apparently without securing at all the
great ethical and social interests which that union
is intended to promote. In this matter mere
formalism is as pernicious as in other great eth-
ical and religious concerns. Emphasis upon the
form of conduct is often joined with the neglect of
its ethical meaning. Emphasis upon the form of
a relation too often diverts attention from its
ethical content and misleads people into a false
sense of having secured a great moral interest
at the very time that it is sacrificed. We know
very well that this was not the way of Jesus.
Upon this Pharisaic method He pronounced His
most severe denunciations. What He enjoined
was not a merely formal, but a real inviolability
of the marriage bond.

The question, then, recurs, How shall we avert
the dangers that menace the family and lift this
precious institution to the level on which Jesus
placed it in His teaching? Thanks to modern

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THE FAMILY

social science, we have come to realize that society
is a unity of interrelated, interdependent func-
tions. In some sense of the word, it is an or-
ganism. If there is maladjustment or, if you
please, disease in one of the most important social
organs, the activity of the other organs will be
disturbed. We have seen that two great institu-
tions or groups of institutions — the religious and
the economic — with which the family has stood in
close relations are very much disturbed. And it
may be safely maintained that so long as there
is serious disorder in those important spheres it
will be reflected in an unhealthful state of the
family institution. To a large extent, certainly,
the instability of the family is a symptom of trou-
ble in the religious and economic spheres of life.
In trying to cure the animal organism, the treat-
ment of symptoms is no longer regarded as good
therapeutics ; and the same principle is applicable
to the social organism. To make the thought
clear, let us compare the economic functions of
society to the group of alimentary functions in
the human body ; and the religious to the respira-
tory functions, to wliich it bears a closer likeness
than any other biological process ; and the family,
to the heart. Of course, these are remote and
crude resemblances, and others just as exact
might be suggested. But they serve to give con-
creteness to the thought. If, then, the breathing
and feeding functions of the body are very much
out of order, the action of the heart will be much

299

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGEESS

disturbed, and no kind or amount of medicine in-
tended to correct its action will give genuine re-
lief. ** Treat the parts fundamentally affected,"
advises the physician, and the advice should be
passed on to the social reformers. Especially is
it applicable in this matter.

Our fundamental social disorders to-day are
religious and economic. The belief that life
is essentially religious in its significance has
been weakened; hence the conviction that the
order of the universe is moral has been
blurred. We need, therefore, a renewal of
religious faith in harmony with the results of
science. The head and the heart of the modern
world need to be reconciled in a broader and
higher conception of the universe in order that
the conscience may be relieved of its confusion
and rendered more efficient in its control of indi-
vidualistic impulses. This religious faith can
never, it seems certain, be organized again into
a form of external authority. The law of the
Lord must be written in the hearts of the people
rather than in a collection of ecclesiastical canons.
On the other hand, the economic system must be
reorganized as a part of this moral order of the
world so as to correct its enormous injustices and
obviate its innumerable practical evils. As these
two great processes — the rejuvenation of religious
faith and the moralizing of the economic order —
go on, the institution of the family, in which the
normal instincts of men have always perceived

300

THE FAMILY

the most precious of our social assets, will become
more stable and permanent as the indispensable
agency through which society may conserve its
most sacred treasures and hand them down en-
hanced to the coming generations.

It is evident, then, that the safeguarding and
higher consecration of the family depends upon
the general progress of the Kingdom of God
toward its earthly goal, a transformed social or-
der. The ideal of Jesus for marriage cannot be
realized except as His ideal of society is realized.
It is not possible to realize His ideal in one in-
stitution while other institutions which are closely
linked with it in a social system are dominated
wholly or in part by a contrary ideal. To be sure,
as is implied in what has already been said, the
social advance does not proceed evenly all along
the line. Progress may and usually does go on
in one institution or group of institutions while
others lag for a time. The movement may be now
chiefly in one and now chiefly in another depart-
ment of life. A column of troops on dress parade
may keep step faultlessly and march over the
parade ground in an absolutely straight line ; but
that same column, as they move forward in a line
of battle over broken ground, through open field
and forest and thicket, will not be able to main-
tain such accuracy of concerted movement. The
line will be a wavering one, though there may be
no wavering in the stout hearts of the men. But
it would be disastrous for the general unity of

301

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

the line to be broken ; those who have no physical
obstacles to overcome must not advance too far
beyond those who are retarded. So in social
progress one institution cannot advance far ahead
of the general line of forward movement. To
attempt by legislative enactment to bring one in-
stitution up to the ideal standard while interre-
lated institutions are left standing upon an en-
tirely different basis is to court failure ; and espe-
cially is it futile to try to correct by legislation
the disorders in one institution which demon-
strably result from maladjustments in others. It
is universally conceded that it is not wise to make
legal statutes of perfect ideals ; and the practical
considerations which forbid this are doubly
weighty against singling out one institution for
such treatment apart from the rest.

Such a method proceeds upon two false as-
sumptions— first, that perfect ideals can be real-
ized at a stroke by legislation ; second, that insti-
tutions are not interrelated in a unitary system
of life. This does not mean that legislation is
of no value in the struggle for social ideals. Civil
laws should embody relative or approximate
ideals — that is, ideals up to the level of which it
is possible at a given time to bring the average
of social action. The reformers of a given group,
being inextricably bound to the backward masses
in a system of social life, must not hope to em-
body at once their highest ideals in the laws which
control the action of the whole group, but only

302

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hj slow degrees as the average ethical standard
of life is elevated. It would not be wise to enact
the principles of the Kingdom of God as civil
statutes ; certainly it would be absurd at the pres-
ent stage of social progress. Would it not be just
as ill-advised to seek by statute to realize one of
that group of perfect ideals set forth in the teach-
ings of Jesus, leaving all the rest of the social
life on a distinctly lower level!

It is doubtless wise to make the divorce laws
more stringent; but it is the growing conviction
of those who bring to the study of this problem
the deepest understanding of social science that
legislation will be more effective if aimed, not
so much at making divorce impossible, as at pre-
venting the marriage of persons whose union must
prove a misfortune to themselves and to society.
Never in the history of the world was there so
little control as now exercised over the making
of the marriage contract. The freedom of indi-
viduals to enter at their own will into this most
important relationship is, after a very early
period of their lives,, almost without restriction.
In early society certain customs, having the force
of law, prescribed the group within which young
people were permitted to seek their mates; and
the individual selection within these limits was
controlled by parents or the elders of the kinship-
group. With many modifications, some form of
social control over the formation of the marriage
tie has prevailed down to quite receipt times.

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGEESS

But of late, the tendency has been toward absolute
laxity in this respect. This is, in fact, a more
remarkable, exceptional and dangerous aspect of
the present situation than the laxity as to the dis-
solution of the tie. Certainly the forms of social
control formerly exercised over the right to marry
are not suited to the conditions of modern life;
but that only imposes the necessity of finding
forms of control that are suitable, and this is the
phase of the situation which to-day calls most
loudly for wise legislation. If no control is exer-
cised over the formation of marital unions, the
prohibition of their dissolution only renders per-
manent those marriages which are violations of
every law of God as written in the biological and
ethical nature of man. Such marriages are at
once social shames and religious shams, and
simply to perpetuate them is no remedy for the
evil. We are more in need of marriage laws than
of divorce laws. In view of the astounding laxity
with which multitudes of persons are permitted
to marry who are manifestly unfit, physically,
mentally and morally, to live together in holy
wedlock and to become parents, is it not inevitable
that under the stress of the powerful disinte-
grating forces above described the permanency of
the family institution should seem to be imperiled
and that the ^'divorce mills'* should be kept run-
ning over time?

To sum up: If the institution of the family

304

THE FAMILY

is to be at once safeguarded and established upon
a firmer and higher basis than ever, the three lines
along which the most effective work must be done
are:

First, the reinvigoration of religious faith,
which has been so seriously devitalized by reason
of a false conception of the implications of modern
science. The notion that science has rendered
untenable a religious conception of the world has
become widespread, but is already beginning to
weaken in the very centres from which it radiated
in the beginning. There is a wide and inviting
field open here for the work of constructive think-
ers, who know how to correlate the results of
science and the scientific spirit with a positive
religious faith. Such a work is basal, not only
in the interests of the particular institution now
under consideration, but for the conservation and
promotion of all social interests.

Second, the establishment of a wise and ef-
fective public control not only over the breaking
of the marriage tie, but more particularly over
its formation ; so that those who are afflicted with
the so-called ^'social diseases,'' the insane, the
confirmed neurotics, etc., may be, in mercy to
themselves and in justice to society, saved from
the terrible mistake of marriage, a mistake which,
knowingly committed, might better be called a
crime. With the progress of science we shall be
able to determine better and better just what re-

-^ 305

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

striction should be placed upon those who seek
to enter into this relationship and perform this
high social and religious function.

Third, the establishment of fairer economic
conditions. Twice in the course of this chapter
the fact has been noted that the only healthful
aspect of the present tendency is seen in the so-
called *^ middle classes. '' That is extremely sig-
nificant. The really pathological conditions are
to be found mostly among those who, at one end
of the economic scale, are lifted above the stand-
ard of normal living and those who, at the other
end of the scale, are depressed below the standard
of normal living. True progress lies in reducing
these extremes. We should, so to speak, rid our
society of the scum and the dregs. As fast as
we can approximate a normal standard of living
for all classes of the population — that is, as fast
as we can attain to an equitable distribution of
wealth — just so fast will we bring health to the
family institution, as well as to all the other in-
stitutions of society. And as we do so we will
be approaching the realization of the ideal of
Jesus for the family — the permanent and invio-
lable union of one man and one woman in the
bonds of a genuine, abiding, intelligent and patient
love, laying in mutual sacrifice and fidelity the
foundations of a home, the most beautiful and
precious of human institutions and the best sym-
bol of the universe organized according to the
will of God.

306

CHAPTER V

THE CHILDRElSr

The increased psychological and sociological in-
terest in the child, which is one of the most notable
aspects of present-day life, should lead us to a
re-study of the passages which record the attitude
and words of Jesus with reference to children/
It mil be noted that these passages fall into two
groups. The first group record the act and utter-
ances of Jesus which were called forth by the
ambitious contest of the disciples for the chief
place in the prospective Kingdom. The second
record His acts and utterances called forth by
their rebuke of the parents who brought their
children to receive His blessing. It will be noted
also that these incidents were recorded in all of
the Synoptics, but not by John. John's Gospel,
it seems, was written not only as a record, but
as an argument to sustain a definite thesis, and
these incidents did not seem to be pertinent to
that purpose.

The commentators are not agreed as to the
precise significance of these passages. One group
of interpreters understand that Jesus, after tak-
ing the child and using it as the example of the

1 Matthew 18:1-14; Mark 9:33-37; Luke 9:46-48, and Matthew
19; 13-16; Mark 10:13-16; Luke 18:15-17.

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PKOGRESS

mental attitude which it was necessary for those
who would become His disciples to acquire, makes
no further reference to the child itself, but pro-
ceeds to speak concerning the disciples who are
typified by the child. The words, ^' Whoso will
receive one such little child in my name,'' etc.,
and '^ Whoso shall offend one of these little ones,"
refer to the disciples who have the childlike spirit.
Even the specific words of Luke, ^'Whosoever
shall receive this child in my name receiveth me,"
are supposed to refer to the child only in its rep-
resentative capacity, and really to mean the dis-
ciples who are represented by it. The words,
^^Take heed that ye despise not one of these little
ones," and *'Even so, it is not the will of your
Father who is in heaven that one of these little
ones should perish," are also supposed to refer
to the disciples and not to the little children them-
selves. In short, the whole discourse based upon
tliis incident, after the reference to the child as
a concrete example of the child-attitude, is con-
strued as having reference to the disciples and
not to the children. Accordingly we do not have
in these passages a lesson as to the proper Chris-
tian attitude toward children, but as to the proper
attitude toward childlike Christians. At any rate,
according to this construction, whatever teaching-
there may be concerning the proper attitude
toward children as children, it is only inferential
and incidental and nomse central in the meaning
of the passages.

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THE CHILDEEN

Another interpretation given by a smaller
group of commentators is that the children are
referred to throughout the discourse, and that
Jesus therein sets forth the spiritual condition
and significance of the child and the proper atti-
tude of His followers toward children ; while inci-
dentally and inferentially the words include in
their application all those who have the childlike
disposition. Those who maintain this interpreta-
tion of the passages usually understand them to
teach that the children are really in the Kingdom
of God ; indeed, may be considered as the typical
members of the Kingdom, since they are by na-
ture what adults must become by repentance and
conversion. The problem, therefore, is to keep
the children in the Kingdom ; to prevent their per-
version, which would render necessary their con-
version.

Neither of these views seems to me satisfac-
tory. Both seem to be coloured too much by cer-
tain theological presuppositions, and theological
presuppositions are not good glasses through
which to see the simple but profound meaning
of Jesus. Let us consider each interpretation
somewhat in detail.

To the latter only a few lines need be devoted.
It may be accepted in so far as it construes the
discourse as referring all the way through pri-
marily to children, and as setting forth the gen-
eral religious significance of children and the
proper Christian attitude toward them. Later on

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

tlie reasons for accepting tliis view will be stated
and elaborated. But this group of interpreters
seem to me to be in error in so far as they repre-
sent Jesus as teaching that children are naturally,
by birth, citizens of the Kingdom of God. In the
first place, there is nothing in His language which
necessarily or even probably implies this doctrine
as to the natural rehgious status of the child.
All that His words can be construed as meaning
without reading into them a theological signifi-
cance foreign to His purpose in uttering them,
is that the openness, teachableness and freedom
from selfish ambition which characterize the mind
of the normal child are antecedent conditions of
entrance into His Kingdom and of attaining to
a position of great influence in it. The grown-up
people with whom He was dealing were not oj>en,
were not teachable; their minds were preoccu-
pied with prejudices and presuppositions — false
views of life, of God, of the Kingdom of God.
Their ideals were wrong. They were thus inac-
cessible to His truth. Therefore, they must get
rid of these mental obstructions which rendered
their souls opaque to the light of His teaching.
Jesus had profound psychological insight. He
perceived a fact which modern psychology has
emphasized as of great importance; to-wit, that
the mental system which has been organized and
crystallized in an adult mind renders that mind
almost inaccessible to radically new truths ; quite
inaccessible, indeed, without a mental revolution.

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THE CHILDREN

He came teaching truths that were so profound,
so radical, and, to His adult hearers, so new and
revolutionary that nothing short of a mental over-
turning, a conversion, a turning back to the sim-
plicity and teachableness of the child would make
it possible for them to apprehend and appropriate
His truth and enter into the Kingdom He was
organizing. The commentators are quite right
who insist that the phrase, *'be converted," is
not to be understood in the technical or theo-
logical, but in the psychological sense, as the
emptying of the mind of the false views which
preoccupied and filled it, a reversion to the mental
attitude of children — an attitude which, it is very
clearly implied. His disciples must not only ac-
quire but maintain, if, after they have entered the
Kingdom, they are to make continuous progress
in the spiritual life. These words, indeed, consti-
tute a solemn warning against mental crystalli-
zation, a warning which has been echoed with
mighty emphasis by the modern science of the
soul. As to the status of children, they mean
nothing more or less than that the children are
normally in a mental attitude which renders them
easily accessible to His truths and the influence
of His personality, a state of mind which is neces-
sary as a psychological condition of entrance into
the Kingdom.

But what is the nature of that Kingdom
and by what process does one actually become
a member of it I These questions are not an-

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

swered in these passages. We must look else-
where for their answer. To insist on finding
their answer here is simply to read into these
words a preconceived theological doctrine which
they do not yield by any fair exegesis. Whatever
else may be true as to the nature of the Kingdom
and the process by which one enters it, it seems
to be incontestable that the Kingdom is a system
of social life organized on the basis of voluntary
obedience to the will of God, and that the process
by which one enters it is the acceptance by the
personal human will of the personal divine will
as the law of life. If this be true, then mani-
festly it is impossible that anybody, child or adult,
should enter the Kingdom except by an individual,
personal act of the will; and this means that it
is impossible for the child to be in the Kingdom
before it is capable of a personal voluntary act.
To assume that one is a member of the Kingdom
by natural birth betrays a lack of definiteness in
one's conception of the Kingdom; and to read
this assumption into the words of Jesus concern-
ing little children is to divert one's mind from
their central meaning.

Underl}'ing this interpretation is the group-
conception of religion which prevailed in the an-
cient world. As has been explained elsewhere, a
child born into one of the primitive kinship-
groups, which were by expansion gradually de-
veloped into the nationalities of the ancient world,
was ipso facto born into the religion of that group.

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THE CHILDREN

It is, therefore, a bringing over of that ancient
ideal of religion and connecting it in an illogical
way with the religion of Jesns when it is main-
tained that the child by natural birth becomes a
member of the Kingdom. But it may be said
that if the Kingdom is to issue in a transformed
social order in this world, will it not be true that
those who are born into that order will also be
born into the Kingdom? Here an important and
fundamental distinction should be borne in mind.
A transformed temporal order of human society —
an organization of politics, economics, science and
art on the principle of service — can never consti-
tute the Kingdom of God. Such an organization
of the material and psychic factors of society is
required by the Kingdom and must result from
its progress, but it is not the Kingdom. To say
that the temporal social order must be subjected
to the law of service is not to say that it will then
be identical with the Kingdom. It will no longer
stand in opposition to the Kingdom, and will in
some sense be utilized as an instrumentality by
the Kingdom. But the Kingdom must always in
its essence be a spiritual thing, a correlation of
human wills within the will of God. It has been
truly said by Dr. Kirn : * ^ The will to serve with
the whole energy of one's personal power one's
neighbour and one 's community is not in itself re-
ligion, but it is the form of work within the world
which ethical religion requires." To be born into
a social system conducted on this principle is not

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

to be born into the Kingdom of God, but such a
system of life would tend to lead those born in it
into the Kingdom, would be promotive of the
Kingdom.

It is equally clear that the other group of in-
terpreters are also at fault and fail to apprehend
the most important meaning of the first group
of these beautiful passages. They assume that
Jesus, after using the child as a type of the mental
attitude which it is necessary for His disciples to
possess, proceeds to speak about those disciples
rather than about the children, and to emphasize
the importance of the proper treatment of those
disciples rather than the importance of a proper
treatment of children. According to this, the pas-
sages have no direct and primary bearing upon
the question which is so prominent in the thought
of our time — the central social significance of the
child. There is good reason to regard tliis as a
great mistake.

The chief reason which is assigned for adopting
this interpretation are these words of Matthew,
^^ Whoso shall offend one of these little ones, ivhich
believe in me/' etc. This is taken as conclusive
evidence that Jesus was talking here about the
disciples typified by the children, and not pri-
marily about the children themselves. But is this
conclusive? Is it necessary to take the words,
*^who believe in me,'' in the theological sense?
Some interpreters who take these words to indi-
cate evangelical saving faith in the theological

314

THE CHILDREN

sense of the terms tell us that the expression,
** except ye be converted,'* etc., is not to be con-
strued in the theological sense of conversion. For
that might fairly imply that the disciples them-
selves had not been converted in the evangelical
sense of the term. But if this expression need
not be taken in the technical sense of the term
conversion, why must the words, * ^ believe in me, ' '
be taken in the technical sense of evangelical sav-
ing faith! There is no good reason why they
should not be considered as indicating simply the
attitude of trusting confidence exhibited by the
children toward Him, such an attitude as normal
children usually exhibit toward highly benevolent
and kindly men. But even if the words should
be taken in the more technical sense, it would
not necessarily exclude His direct reference to
the children. For do not many children believe
in Him in the evangelical sense of the word?
And may it not have been true of the children to
whom He was then referring?

But if there is no convincing positive reason
for adopting the view of the first group of inter-
preters, there are important reasons for reject-
ing it.

First, it is dijfficult to carry it through all the
passages as a consistent principle of explanation.
This is true even in Matthew's account, which
lends itself to this interpretation best of all. How,
for instance, are the verses 10-14 to be construed
in harmony with this interpretation? On this

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

hypothesis, would they not imply the likelihood,
or at least the possibility, that some of the dis-
ciples would fall away and be lost? And such a
possibility is emphatically rejected by many of the
interxjreters who so construe the words. But if
Jesus is here emphasizing the danger of causing
little children to stumble, of turning their little
docile lives in wrong directions, instead of leading
them as may be so easily done into the Kingdom,
the meaning of these verses and the extreme per-
tinence of them to the whole discussion are en-
tirely obvious. A careful consideration of the
passages shows that down to verse 14 the dis-
course revolves around the child and the terrible
sin of causing the child to go astray — the greatest
iniquity, perhaps, of which this world is guilty.
At verse 15 there is a manifest transition to an-
other thought, the proper method and spirit of
dealing with offenses committed by one disciple
against another.

But if the interpretation I am criticising meets
with difficulty as applied to the passage in Mat-
thew, it fits still less the account given by Mark
and Luke. Here, beyond question, the natural
course is to take the words as having reference
to the children themselves rather than to the dis-
ciples typified by the children. Indeed, if we are
to take the words of Luke as a true report of the
words of Jesus, we are almost compelled to con-
strue this passage as an impressive declaration
of the central importance of the child and of

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the solemn religious significance of our attitude
toward children. ** Whosoever shall receive this
child in my name receiveth me." How could
words be more specific? This is indeed the most
specific report we have of the words of Jesus on
this occasion. Why not take it at its face value?
Why not construe the more indefinite words used
in the other accounts in the light of this definite
statement, instead of the reverse? It is true that
Matthew gives a more extended report of the con-
versation than Luke and goes more into some of
the details ; but it is quite as possible that Luke ^s
record gives us the actual words used by Jesus
as that Matthew's does; and Matthew's words
can be legitimately construed in entire harmony
with the more obvious meaning of Luke's.

Second, there is another reason for objecting
to the interpretation here criticised. Those who
adopt it usually treat the phrase, ^^ these little
ones," as referring to weak or immature dis-
ciples; but that is not consistent. According to
that construction of the passage the phrase must
be regarded as a designation of all disciples ; for
surely it is not the weak or immature disciples
alone who have the childlike spirit. If childlike-
ness of temper and attitude are characteristic of
the members of the Kingdom, then the strongest
and most mature disciples will possess this char-
acteristic in the highest degree. There is, there-
fore, no consistency in applying the phrase,
*' these little ones," in an especial way to weak

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or immature Christians. But the warning against
offending one of these ** little ones,'' and the in-
junction, ^'Take heed that ye despise not one of
these little ones," sound strangely unnatural as
applied to mature, strong disciples, who are sup-
posed to represent the highest type of positive
and self -controlled character; and yet it must
apply to them if the construction of the passage
to which objection is here taken is the correct
one. On the other hand, how natural and ap-
propriate are these words if the Master's purpose
here is to impress upon us the importance of the
child and our responsibility to Him for our treat-
ment of little children, who may be so easily in-
fluenced for good or evil !

To sum up, the teaching of these passages
seems to me to be : first, that a psychological con-
dition of entrance into and of advancement in the
Kingdom is the openness of mind, the teachable-
ness of the normal child; second, Jesus is seek-
ing to impress upon His hearers and upon His
disciples of all ages the unspeakable importance
and the solemn Christian duty of a proper and
helpful treatment of the little child. The child
is impressible, easily influenced in right or wrong
directions. To pervert a little child is one of the
most terrible of all sins. To receive the little child
in His name, to appreciate its possibilities, its
preciousness in His sight, to love and cherish it in
His spirit, and to lead it to know Him who came

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THE CHILDREN

to seek and to save all men is a characteristic
mark of the Christian spirit.

Modern Psychology teaches us that the child
does not come into the world without inherited
predispositions ; that it is not born upon the spir-
itual level of life; and that when it arrives at a
certain age its mental life needs to be reorgan-
ized around a higher centre upon the spiritual
plane, and must be, either at this period or later,
unless it is to go through its career as a being
arrested in its normal development. But Psy-
chology also teaches that normally these predis-
positions are vague and indefinite in the child and
that it is phenomenally suggestible and easily
adapts itself to whatever conditions happen to
surround it. In short, the human environment in
which it is placed has almost absolute control over
the child life. It is helpless. It is not without
inherited predisposition, both general or racial
and individual, and will react to its environment
according to this nature; and consequently, if
there is a conscious attempt to shape it to a cer-
tain pattern or direct its developing energies to
a certain goal, the effort, to be successful, must
be made according to the laws or innate tenden-
cies of the child's physical and psychic organiza-
tion. But it is nevertheless true that the social
environment is by far the most decisive factor
in determining the direction of its development.
Even misdirected and unsuccessful, because unin-

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

telligent, efforts to lead the child in one way may
be the real explanation of its taking a different
course. Even the individual instances that seem
to be exceptions to the general law that the social
environment dominates the development of the
child, will on closer examination prove to be nota-
ble exemplifications of it. Many of them have
been carefully studied, and in every case it is
found that in the environment there was some
stimulus, which, acting upon the child's nature,
called forth its indefinite potentialities in a given
direction.

If Psychology is correct in its conception of
the child, then a new-born generation is little more
than a mass of raw human material which society,
by its varied suggestions and its organized
methods of control, is at once stimulating and
shaping for better or for worse. The Future is
always lying in the cradle which is rocked by the
hand of the Present. Perhaps it would be a more
accurate figure to say, the Future is always lying
at the breast of the Present. What is a given
society doing with its children? The answer to
that question will determine whether it is a pro-
gressive or a retrogressive society. In what it
is doing for and ^\dth the children society is at
once casting its baleful or beneficent shadow into
eternity, and reforming or deforming the tem-
poral social order. At the heart of every social
question is the child. All social questions revolve
around the cradle. This fact has often been em-

320

THE CHILDREN

phasized ; but social theorists have not taken this
point of view with sufficiently definite conscious-
ness of its pivotal importance. Social reformers
have not with sufficient clearness grasped child-
hood as the key to every question. We should
confront every theory of society and every pro-
posed practical policy with the query: *^What
does it mean for the child!" In all our modern
theorizing we must do what Jesus did; we must
take a httle child and set it in the midst, and we
must ask ourselves with the utmost solemnity:
What are our social ideals, our social policies
and our social institutions — ^what is our whole
social order doing to this little child? That is
the crucial question for every civilization and
every phase of every civilization. There may be
other important interests at stake; but however
important, they all recede into the background
in the presence of this; for in the children the
whole future is at stake.

Now, if we consider the whole ethical problem
of the present social order from this point of
view, to what conclusions are we forced? The
home is the immediate environment of the child.
Through it inevitably play the great forces of the
larger human environment which encompasses it,
of which it is indeed the very heart. It is a mere
truism to say that the home is not an isolated
institution. There is no institution in which the
customs and ideals of the general social group
are more promptly and clearly reflected ; and none

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

which in structure and function is more flexibly-
responsive to the shaping influence of the general
forces and conditions of life. It was once pos-
sible, however, in considerable measure, under the
shelter of the home, to select the environmental
influences that came from outside and reached the
child; and that was an extremely important func-
tion of the home ; but it seems to careful observers
that at least three processes which are now going
on are restricting more and more narrowly the
measure in wliich that is possible. First, the in-
creasing density of the population — the crowding
of people together in tenements and flats, and the
closer juxtaposition of the separate domestic es-
tablishments. The home becomes less and less
isolated, and hence the increasing difficulty of shel-
tering the child from such outside influences as
may seem undesirable to the parents. Second,
the progressive removal of various forms of ac-
tivity from the home to outside institutions, and
particularly the work of education. The educa-
tional period of life is necessarily lengthening,
wliich means that the formative period is length-
ening; while at the same time the formative proc-
ess, which is education, has been progressively
transferred from the home to the school, where
the child is inevitably brought into contact with
and is moulded by the great world that lies out-
side the home. Third, the fact that mthin a large
section of the population both the mother and the
children are going out to work. The two chief

322

THE CHILDREN

influences, as we have seen, leading to this are
the transference of economic occupations from
the home, and the growing disparity between the
workingman^s wages and his rising standards of
living. The result is that thousands of children
are deprived of the sheltering care of the home
and thrust out in their tender years to be directly
fashioned by the extra-domestic environment.
Everything seems, then, to indicate that in modern
life the general social order is coming to be more
powerful in the direct moulding of the life of the
child. Indirectly it has always been potent,
moulding the home and through that the child,
in which way it is still as effective as ever. Now,
however, it is, far more than in times past, im-
mediately potential in the formation of the per-
sonality of the child. In a word, the discipline
which the child receives within the home life,
though relatively restricted, is as much deter-
mined by the general social life as it ever was,
while the area is greatly extended mthin which
the child is immediately acted upon by the larger
social organization.

This situation only renders more acute the
question. What stamp is society placing upon this
plastic human material? What is this general
mould in which the future society is being cast?
As the general social order is acting more broadly,
in a direct way, upon the child, what does it mean
for the child as related to the Kingdom of God?
Does it make it easy for the child to enter the

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

Kingdom f Or does it give to the development of
the young life a wrong direction? Does it lead
the little one into the life of love and service to'
God and men, or into a life of secularity, material-
ism and self-service? Does it *^ offend'^ these
little ones — that is, cause them to stumble — or
stimulate them to desire and strive for the higher
spiritual values of life? These are questions that
go to the centre of the social problem. It is here
that the issue between the Kingdom of God and
the social order is raised in its most acute form.
If the social order through the various forms of
control and discipline which it exercises over chil-
dren, both mediately through the home and im-
mediately through its direct action upon them,
perverts them, it stands under the terrific con-
demnation of Jesus. That it is doing exactly this
for many millions of children is too ob\'ious to
require argument. One has but to keep his eyes
open as he walks the streets of our cities and
towns to see it being done on a scale so large as
to appall the thoughtful observer. Let one with
liis mind directed to this particular phase of the
social problem take a stroll through the poorer
streets, the tenement districts, the manufacturing
sections and the slums of our towns and cities —
remembering that in these towns and cities the
real processes and tendencies of our civilization
come most obviously to light — and the conviction
will be forced upon him that, while our social
order is not without fair and attractive aspects,

324

THE CHILDREN

there are at work in the very heart of it forces
which are stunting, malforming, mutilating and
destroying child life on a colossal scale. It is
not that a few children here and there fall vic-
tims to accidental maladjustments ; that would be
tragical enough ; but the wholesale perversion and
deformation of child life now going on in our
centres of population, and in a less striking degree
in every other community in the land, is not acci-
dental. It is the working out of forces and proc-
esses that are characteristic of our social organi-
zation.

Here, for instance, is a baby born in a crowded
tenement district. The family into which it is
born are poor and ignorant, and live a miserable,
meagre life crowded into one or two rooms of a
dark building. The little one is underfed from
the first time it is laid to its mother's breast;
nay, it has suffered from lack of nutrition before
its eyes opened upon this world. No light more
cheering than the grey twilight that falls gloomily
through the dirty windows ever greets its baby
eyes, which gaze only upon scenes of filth and
squalor. Its little ears are greeted with few soft
and tender words, for the mother's heart, though
true in its primal instincts, is untouched by re-
fining influences ; the gentler, finer sentiments are
smothered in her by the harsh and coarse condi-
tions of her life, and her energies are not devoted
to the care of the children, but consumed in heavy
labour. Perhaps she must go out to work for the

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

better portion of the day, while the infant is
turned over to be kept by an older child, itself
immature and yet partly formed — or malformed —
by the same conditions and methods of rearing.
When the little one has grown large enough to
go out to play, it must seek its pleasures in the
dirty streets and alleys in the neighbourhood,
along with a gang of others whose infantile ex-
periences have been similar to its own. There in
the streets, which are not made for play but for
traffic, it is plunged at once into the heart of the
great social order, and meets face to face the uni-
formed representative of that order in the person
of the policeman. Nearby are the haunts of vice,
the saloon, the brothel, and all the unspeakable
dens of infamy. It is not long before its career
must take a more definite shape and direction.
What will it be? Perhaps laws for compulsory
education force it into the schools. But to a child
that has been thus neglected and undisciplined,
the often unintelligent confinement and discipline
of the school are likely to prove extremely irksome
and distasteful. The result may be truancy and
the crystallization of the character into permanent
hostility to all cultural influences. But in many
jjarts of our country there is no law of compulsory
education, and the little one receives no scholastic
training, good, bad or indifferent. Very soon it
is hkely to find its way either into a factory, where
its young life is stunted, or into a street occupa-
tion of some kind, where it forms a premature

326

THE CHILDREN

and disastrous acquaintance with every form of
evil. About the only alternative to going to work
in its tender years in the factory or on the street
is a career of juvenile vagabondage and delin-
quency. If it grows up stunted in intelligence
and will or becomes a moral pervert, or if it turns
into the dark and devious ways of criminality,
where should the responsibility for such a perver-
sion be located? Is it not high time for a society,
whose membership is composed largely, if not
predominantly, of the professed followers of
Jesus, to ask itself this question wdth the most
penitential searchings of heart? Innumerable
tragedies of this type are occurring every day
before our eyes. No doubt one factor in the situ-
ation is the personal responsibility of the youth;
but is it the main or even a considerable factor?
What could be reasonably expected of a child
whose existence was begun and continued during
its helpless and tender years under such condi-
tions? No doubt, also, a factor in the situation
is the responsibility of the parents. But the
probability is that they themselves were formed
in their infancy by similar conditions. Beyond
question, a large factor in the situation is the
social order, the system of life under which we
live ; and the more closely one looks into the whole
complex of social relations, the more he will come
to feel that this is the largest factor.

If, now, it be true that the social order is form-
ing the child, mediately through its influence upon

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGEESS

the organization and ideals of the home and im-
mediately by its direct contact with the child, and
if the mediate influence is becoming relatively
less and the immediate relatively more ; if it also
be true that in both ways, and particularly in the
latter, it is stunting and perverting the lives of
vast numbers of children, then it becomes the most
vital question of social policy : What does society
owe to the child? The conscience of our times
stresses the responsibility of the individual to
society, rather than the responsibility of society
to the individual. In dealing with the adults, that
is doubtless the proper placing of the emphasis;
though, if pressed too far, this one-sided emphasis
will be found to involve, even in these cases, a
false antithesis. But with respect to the relation
of the little child to society, the emphasis cer-
tainly ought to be put on the other side. What,
then, does society owe to the little one? Or con-
versely, what are the rights of the child?

First, it has the right to be well-born. One
of the crimes against humanity is that many per-
sons are permitted to marry and become parents
who, according to biological laws which are com-
ing to be better and better understood, are wholly
incapacitated to bring into the w^orld a normal
progeny. The offspring of such parentage are
foredoomed by the stern laws of nature to ab-
normality and misery, predetermined to lead a
life which is a curse to themselves and to society.
From the very beginning of society the institution

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THE CHILDREN

of marriage was brought under social control;
the forms or methods of control have varied with
social interests, real or supposed ; and surely now,
in the light of modern biological science, the mar-
riage of persons manifestly unfit, physically or
mentally, to become parents should be forbidden
and prevented. The responsibility for the misery
of every life brought into the world through such
a union rests in large measure upon society itself.
The child has a right to be born of decent and
healthful parents.

Second, the child has a right to normal and
healthful nourishment and physical surroundings
during its tender years. It should have plenty
of good food, of light and fresh air, and oppor-
tunities for stimulating and helpful play. The
dreary blocks of dark and overcrowded tenements,
with their accompanying dirty streets and filthy
alleys, should be eliminated from our towns and
cities. Within these dens — to call them human
dwellings is to violate the proprieties of language,
just as to exist in them is to violate the decencies
of life — within these horrible dungeons is going
on a physical, mental and moral ^* slaughter of
the innocents,'' with a slow and sure and heartless
cruelty in comparison with which the method of
Herod seems almost like mercy. Society can put
a stop to this, and so long as it fails to do so, the
responsibility for ten thousand thousand human
tragedies rests upon it.

Third, the child has the right to an education

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

that is adapted to its needs. If the parent is in-
disposed or unable to aiford this opportunity,
society should see to it that the child does not
suffer an irretrievable loss through parental in-
ability or carelessness or neglect. The suitable
nurture of its mind and heart is surely as im-
portant for the child as the nurture of its body.
If the parents were unable to care for its body,
or were too criminally careless to give it food to
eat, society would step in to see that the child
had a measure, at least, of justice. But its fail-
ure to secure for the child the proper care and
development of its mind and heart is equally as
criminal as to neglect the interests of its body.
But note that its education should be ^ ' suitable ; ' '
the education should be adapted to its needs —
not a dull grind of discipline which is utterly
meaningless to the child, because consciously re-
lated to none of its interests, or perhaps even
revolting because opposed to every instinct in its
constitution. Here educational science is casting
a welcome and increasingly clear light upon the
true way, and in that light the public authorities
who superintend the function of education should
walk. We are bound by the principles of Jesus
to see to it, in some way or other, that every child
secures the inestimable boon of an education
suited to its physical, intellectual and moral needs.
The foregoing are the primary and funda-
mental rights of the child, and yet they do not
exhaust the obligations of society to its little ones.

THE CfHILDREN

That duty can never be fulfilled until the whole
social order is organized on the principles of
Jesus. And yet the shortest practicable road to
the complete transformation of human society
into the ideal of the Kingdom of God lies through
the intellectual, moral, and religious education of
the young, taking the word ^^ education'' in its
broadest meaning. Upon this strategic point all
those w^ho are working for the reconstruction of
the social order so as to secure universal brother-
hood and righteousness should concentrate their
forces. If once we can bring up a generation of
men in whose young minds this great ideal has
been deeply imbedded, we shall have turned the
page which mil open a new chapter in the age-
long striving of man for a just and brotherly order
of society.

The ancient world did not appreciate the child ;
at most, its appreciation of the child was unusual
and exceptional before Jesus came. In pre-Chris-
tian times the child was thought of more as an
asset, and was little valued for its intrinsic per-
sonal w^orth. He *^took the little child and set it
in the midst" — and taught the world the lesson,
which His own disciples have been strangely slow
to learn, that the child is the central and most
significant being in society. In this He antici-
pated the thought of the ages. The modern sci-
ences of Psychology and Sociology are tardily
confirming His wisdom, which for centuries was
obscured in the dust of theological controversy.

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JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

In many matters, and in none more than in this,
it is the profound simplicity of Jesus which often
prevents our understanding and following Him.
As soon as we shall have brought all the children
to Him, and inculcated His spirit in them, which
it is so easy to do, we shall have solved the prob-
lem of the Kingdom and of human society.

332

CHAPTER VI

THE STATE

What was the attitude of Jesus toward the state?
Or what are the civil and political implications
of His ethical principles 1 Intimations of the an-
swer to these questions have several times been
given in preceding chapters ; but the matter is of
such great importance and there has been so much
confusion as well as serious misunderstanding
with respect to it, that it will be well to take it
up for special consideration. It has been seri-
ously maintained by some eminent authorities
that Jesus taught a doctrine which by implication
is opposed to the state, or which, at any rate,
** casts aside the state as worthless.'* And a num-
ber of able writers take the position that the fail-
ure to enjoin patriotism and other specifically
civic duties is a defect in the ethic of Jesus which
renders it unsuitable as a basis of social organi-
zation. What is the truth of the matter?

At the outset one confronts the fact that ac-
cording to the records Jesus uttered not one sig-
nificant word concerning the state; and there is
no apparent reason why such an utterance would
not have been remembered and recorded. On one
occasion His enemies sought to entrap Him into
some compromising statement on the subject of
* 333

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGEESS

the Roman tax; and some writers, who are evi-
dently anxious to supply this apparent deficiency
in His teaching, have striven to deduce from His
reply a doctrine as to the state. But in vain.
His answer is, at best, enigmatical. It is quite
probable that He meant it to be equivocal or, at
any rate, indecisive ; that He intentionally avoided
being drawn into the heated political discussions
of the times. In the circumstances that sur-
rounded Him, how could He have made any appli-
cation of His principles to political conditions
without being diverted from His central purpose,
which was fundamentally rehgiousl He simply
refused to be so diverted. He said, in effect, ** You
are under the dominion of Caesar, as is shown
by the fact that you are using the Roman coin;
so pay the tribute which is imposed upon you,"
and thus declined to pursue the subject further.
This, at any rate, is quite as probable an explana-
tion of His silence on these subjects as the theory
that He was so naive in His views of life and
was speaking with reference to such simple social
conditions that He was unconscious of the state
and its problems. He made applications of His
principles only to the specific situations presented
to Him. The specific political situation which con-
fronted Him was such that He could not have
discussed it without raising issues which would
have sidetracked His whole programme into a
political movement and swamped it forever. He
steered so entirely clear of the question that when,

334

THE STATE

at the end, His enemies sought to secure His de-
struction on the ground that He was attempting
to lead a political revolution, the Roman Gov-
ernour, who would naturally have had information
regarding such an undertaking and would have
been especially sensitive as to that matter, dis-
missed the charge even without serious investi-
gation.

It may be claimed, of course, that it was
not such considerations as these that deterred
Him ; that His answer to Pilate is itself a demon-
stration that He was wholly absorbed in other-
worldly thoughts, and that His programme had in
His mind no relation whatever to the affairs of
earthly governments. This is more plausible than
conclusive. The words, ^*My Kingdom is not of
this world," might bear the meaning that His
Kingdom had no significance for the temporal
order of society. But they might equally well
mean and, taken in connection with the body of
His teaching, most probably did mean, that His
Kingdom, although including the temporal order
within its scope, was founded on a principle, made
use of means and was motived by an aim which
radically distinguished it from the political do-
minions that arise out of the struggle of selfish
human interests ; that He did not propose to sub-
stitute for the Eoman rule another which was in
principle like it.

If His movement, then, had any significance
for the state, it must be found in the implications

335

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

of His religious and ethical doctrines, taken as
universal principles of action. If so taken, would
these principles be inconsistent with political gov-
ernment! Would they disintegrate the state?
There are not wanting those who claim that they
would. It is argued, for instance, that if men
should practice His doctrine of non-resistance to
evil they would be estopped from making an ap-
peal to the law for the maintenance of their in-
dividual rights; or if the injunction, *^ Judge not
that ye be not judged,'' were adopted as a uni-
versal principle of action, the state could not con-
demn and punish criminals. The whole system of
legal restraint and punishment would collapse.
Civil society would be disintegrated. The gov-
ernment, which is the conservator of the interests
of all, could not exercise this function, which is
essential to the preservation of social order. Ab-
solute anarchy would result. Men cannot live to-
gether without law ; law cannot be made effective
except by the use of force; but the principle of
Jesus as applied to the collective life implies the
organization of society on the basis of love and
of moral influence. What then 1 Law disappears
and the state ceases to exist. Thus the argu-
ment runs.

Two problems, then, have to be faced. First,
the absence in the ethic of Jesus of any teaching
concerning the function and value of the state and
concerning civic duties. Second, the alleged in-
consistency of His ethical principles with the very

336

THE STATE

existence of the state. In the consideration of
them, let us take the second problem first.

The injunctions, ^^ resist not eviP^ and *^ judge
not," are special developments of His general law
of love. It would be unintelligent, if not posi-
tively stupid to interpret them with bald literal-
ness. Can we suppose that He meant to be taken
according to the letter when He said, ^ ' Whosoever
shall smite thee on the right cheek, turn to him
the other also," and *^If any man will sue thee
at law and take away thy coat, let him have thy
cloak also," and ** Whosoever will compel thee
to go a mile, go with him twain"! To do so is
to assume that He went as far as the Pharisees
themselves in laying down petty rules as to the
minutiae of conduct; whereas, it is certain that
He contended most vigourously against this very
practice. This mode of speech was that custom-
arily used by popular teachers of His race and
time. What He meant is plain enough when it is
borne in mind that He was substituting His law
of love for the ancient law of retaliation in deal-
ing with offenders. What He said, in effect, was
this, **When dealing with one who has injured
you, be governed not by resentment, but by good-
will for the evil-doer." It is only the statement
in another form of the injunction, *^Love your
enemies; bless them that curse you; do good to
them that hate you; and pray for them that de-
spitefully use you and persecute you." It is
manifestly an application of the law of love to

337

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

the conduct of His followers who live and suffer
maltreatment in an evil social order. Similarly,
the injunction, ^' Judge not that ye be not
judged/' is directed against the censorious dis-
position, and bids His followers look inward and
correct their own faults rather than busy them-
selves in detecting and correcting the faults of
others.

But if these particular injunctions be construed
as referring to the personal conduct of His fol-
lowers, the broader problem is not thereby solved ;
for it cannot be fairly disputed that He intended
the principle of love to become a universal law
of conduct. The question then recurs, ^*Can love
be made the basis of the collective organized life
of menf Can the state in particular be organ-
ized and conducted on the basis of universal good-
will? The question may be answered from two
different points of view.

In the first place, we may consider the ques-
tion with reference to the ideal state which is
gradually to be realized. As the Kingdom pro-
gresses, love more and more pervades and con-
trols all the relations of men. And when the
Kingdom becomes a realized fact, love will be
the informing principle of the organization of the
state, as of all other functions of the collective
life. But in a society so constituted would there
be any longer a function for the state to perform ?
If society had been transformed and elevated to
the point where all its members acted on the prin-

338

THE STATE

ciple of love, would there be any need for law?
Would not coercion be out of the question? It
seems certain that in such an ideal situation the
coercive activity of the state would disappear.
It would no longer be necessary to restrain men
from injuring one another, nor to compel them
to perform their obligations to one another.
**Love is the fulfilling of the law," of all righteous
civil as well as moral law.

But it is a mistake to suppose that even
under such conditions social organization would
cease, or that the state as the central and
directive organ of the social body would disap-
pear. The social organization would become
wholly co-operative and constructive in method
and motive; which implies, of course, that the
state would be thoroughly democratic in spirit
and constitution. It is not improbable, by the
way, that the essential tendency of the ideal of
Jesus toward democracy is the particular feature
which leads some tliinkers, whose political con-
ceptions are cast in the mould of the aristocratic
and militaristic state, to assume that the Christian
ethic would disintegrate the state. We grant that
it would disintegrate that sort of a state. But
were that ideal realized, the energies of men
would still need to be organized in innumerable
forms of co-operation for the common weal,
though compulsion w^ould not be needed any-
where. The state would still be needed as the
central institution in which all others would be

339

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

correlated. Law would not cease to be ; it would
still be needed as the collective definition of func-
tional duties ; though for getting those duties done
there would be required neither soldiers, nor
policemen, nor courts, nor prisons. Already there
are many members of society who render free
obedience to the laws, even to those which they
regard as mistaken; not because they fear pun-
ishment, but because they have the social disposi-
tion. Has the law ceased to exist for them! Not
at all. Has it ceased to exist for them as im-
perative? No ; it is accepted by them as the social
definition of functional duty ; and it is obeyed from
a sense of social duty. They are dutifully minded.
Just as for the truly Christian man the moral law
does not cease to exist as an objective imperative
because it has been embodied in his moral nature
as a subjective disposition ; so in such a society as
is here contemplated the law defining social duties
would exist as a social imperative, but would be
voluntarily obeyed. In short, the state would
cease to exist only in the sense of an external
coercive institution requiring the use of force to
secure obedience. Love, expressing itself in the
desire to co-operate for the common weal, would
be its informing spirit.

One's view of the world must needs be shad-
owed by heavy clouds of pessimism for him to deny
that on the whole society has made considerable
progress toward this ideal, and is still developing
in that direction. Slowly but surely the law of love

340

THE STATE

works like leaven in political and legal thought.
Relatively, at any rate, the conception of the state
as a coercive institution declines, and the con-
ception of it as a constructive co-operation for
the common weal ascends. Relatively the number
increases of those who obey the law freely from
a sense of social duty and not from the sense
of compulsion. The most pervasive anl power-
ful movement in political life sets squarely in the
direction of moralizing all the functions of the
state. So vast and all-compelling is the tendency
that by those who look deep into the present social
movement the ideal of the Christian state is no
longer smiled at as a Utopian dream of the
simple-minded. And yet that ideal is far enough
from realization. To ^Hhe practical man" it is
like blowing soap-bubbles to speculate as to
whether such a state is conceivable or will ulti-
mately become possible ; and to fix one's attention
on that far-off goal looks to him like an evasion
of the actual problems of the state.

Is, then, the application of the law of love
to the administration of the state practicable at
the present stage in social development? All the
citizens of the state are not controlled by a sense
of social duty. The state must deal with the un-
social and the anti-social. Offenses are committed
and the offenders must be punished. Law must
rest upon the basis of force. Only thus is social
order possible. To discontinue the use of force
would be to leave all socially-minded citizens a

341

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

prey to the selfish impulses of the anti-social ; and
that would mean a sudden drop into a state of
savagery such as has never existed in human his-
tory. In fact, it would be the abolition of human
society. The conclusion would then seem to be
that, at any stage of social progress short of
absolute perfection, it is impracticable to make
the law of love the sole principle of organized
social control.

But is not this conclusion a non sequitur?
Is the use of force as a means of social con-
trol necessarily inconsistent with the law of
love? Essentially love is a matter of disposition
and motive, not of method and means. Love and
laxity should not be identified. To love another
does not necessarily mean to let him do as he
pleases. Especially is tliis true when it is a ques-
tion of social control. The parent may find it
necessary, in the very exercise of love, to use
force in the control of the child. The state uses
force in the control of the insane, but that does
not signify that our asylums are the expression
of collective hostility to the unfortunate inmates.
On the same principle, crime may be punished;
and this does not imply that criminality is a form
of insanity. Doubtless it sometimes is, and doubt-
less it often is not. But entirely apart from the
question as to the relation of crime to insanity,
the criminal may be dealt with according to the
law of love. Law may be conceived and executed
and criminals punished in the spirit of good-will.

342

THE STATE

It is entirely practicable that the whole process of
administering law should aim not only at the pro-
tection and well-being of the socially-minded mem-
bers of society, but also at the good of the anti-
social. By tliis is meant that it should seek to
reclaim delinquents to good citizenship, a result
which in a great number of cases is certainly at-
tainable, if at the beginning of the criminal career
the penalty is so inflicted as to develop in the
offender a disposition friendly rather than hostile
to society.

Society, it is true, has not always, nor perhaps
usually, acted upon this principle. One of the
darkest chapters in the history of human society
has been the administration of criminal law, as
every one who has made a study of the subject
will freely admit. If there is to-day a tendency
toward sentimental laxity in the exercise of this
important social function, it is the natural re-
action against the irrational severity and savage
vengefulness which once were so general. Until
quite recent times society usually dealt with the
criminal in the spirit of hostility and vindictive-
ness. It exhibited a brutal indifference to his
welfare and a savage cruelty in the infliction of
penalty. Punishment was worse than retaliation
— exact retaliation would often have been mercy
in comparison. Penalties were affixed to deeds
which were out of all reasonable proportion to
the resulting social injury. We are told that when
Blackstone wrote his Commentaries there were

343

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

one hundred and sixty offenses punishable by
death. Even socially helpful conduct was often
rewarded with a cruel hostility which opened the
dungeon or lighted the flames of the stake for a
man who offended popular prejudices in the in-
terest of progress — a barbarity from which our
enlightened age has not wholly freed itself. But
aside from this fact — which is referred to only
as showing that society acted in the spirit of vin-
dictiveness toward all who did not conform to the
existing standard of conduct — real offenders were
treated with an inhumanity revolting to Christian
sentiments.

In primitive society, before the state was
organized, every offense was avenged by the
injured party or by his kin, who felt responsible
for him. With the development of the state this
responsibility was gradually assumed by it, and
an increasing number of offenses came to be recog-
nized as committed against society. In the pun-
ishment of them the state was impelled by the
motive of vengeance, just as the primitive kinship-
group had been, and the sentiment of hostility
to the offender was hardly checked by any other
consideration. The penalties were always severe
and often extravagant in their cruelty. For in-
stance, we are told that in ancient India ' ' the ter-
minology was lacking for distinguishing civil mis-
demeanors from real crimes; it seems that all
offenses were in the same degree misdeeds which
called for penalties ;*' and the punishments in-

344

THE STATE

flicted were of the most horrible kinds, — **fre-
quently not only death, but death * exasperated'
or * qualified;' by the stake, by fire, by the teeth
of dogs, by the feet of elephants, by the cutting
of razors." And this was characteristic of early
society in general. In the ancient Jewish polity,
which was not an exceptionally severe one, capital
punishment was attached to a great number of
offenses, and took such forms as stoning, hanging,
burning, strangling, crucifixion, drowning, sawing
asunder, precipitation from an elevated place, etc.
Durkhiem has maintained that there is a constant
relation between the severity of the penalties and
the structure of societies; that in proportion as
societies are less complicated, less differentiated
and organized, and the power of government is
concentrated in a single head, punishments are
more terrible. It is probable that there is such a
general relation between the social organization
and the method and spirit of administering crim-
inal law. At any rate, it is certain that for the
greater part of human history society in the im-
position of penalties has been actuated by the
motive of reprisal and the sentiment of retalia-
tion rather than by the purpose to do good to
the offender as well as to all its members. Even
late in the nineteenth century a distinguished
writer on criminal law said: **I think it highly
desirable that criminals should be hated, that
punishment inflicted upon them should be so con-
trived as to give expression to that hatred, and

345

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

to justify it as far as the public provision of means
for expressing and gratifying a healthy natural
sentiment can justify and encourage it.'^

But at the present time the Christian senti-
ment is penetrating this function of the state. It
is coming to be recognized that force may be used
as the instrumentality of benevolence as well as
of hate ; that in punishing the wrongdoer the state
may just as well seek to do him good as to seek to
do him retributive injury. Of course, it should be
borne in mind that the observance of this prin-
ciple is quite a different thing from the senti-
mentality which converts the convict into a melo-
dramatic hero whose untimely fate calls for the
sympathetic tears of silly women and weak men.
The administration of law is different from a the-
atrical performance.

In seeking to substitute a Christian for an anti-
Christian motive in the infliction of punishment,
it is not necessary to assume that in the divine
administration penalty is always reformatory
rather than retributive in purpose. That is an-
other question. The point here insisted on is that
the state can and should be actuated in the in-
fliction of punishment by the desire to do good
to the violators of its laws. Whether or not in
the final judgment upon human conduct, in the
eternal world, punishment shall have for its pur-
pose the exact equating of consequences with
deeds, apart from all other considerations, it is

346

THE STATE

certainly not the proper duty of the state to under-
take the role of final and absolute judge of human
merit and demerit. Its judgment should always
be relative, because it cannot assume that its laws
are the embodiment of absolute right; and it
should never leave out of consideration the benefit
of those whom it adjudges guilty of violating its
statutes. For the reason that its laws and judg-
ments are relative, that its knowledge is always
limited and partial, it is subject to the moral
principle enunciated in the words, ' * Judge not that
ye be not judged;" that is, the state cannot or
should not undertake to evaluate moral character.
No human wisdom is equal to that task. In the
treatment of offenders the state can take into con-
sideration motives, so far as it is practicable for
a human tribunal to determine them, and in so far
passes a judgment upon character. But the court
considers and judges character not as to its final
or absolute significance in relation to the consti-
tution of the moral universe, but only as to its
significance in relation to a particular social sys-
tem, which is itself a relative and changing thing.
For the most part, the court must limit its judg-
ment to overt acts and to them only as related
to a civil statute, which defines a present and
temporary adjustment of men to one another. It
is manifest, then, that the judgments of the state
are necessarily partial and, in so far as they touch
character, relative and tentative. When, there-

347

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

fore, it brings into the exercise of this function
a hostile or censorious temper toward the of-
fender, it is sure to become unjust and tyrannical.
The state cannot even assume an attitude of
indifference toward the offender without injustice.
For he is a member of society. He has become
what he is within the complex of social relations
in which he has lived. In the light of the modern
science of social relations the question is bound
to arise, How far is society itself responsible for
the perversion of his life? That the responsi-
bility for this perversion rests in some measure
upon society there can no longer be any question.
The legal systems of the past have seemed to be
almost, if not wholly, destitute of any conscious-
ness of social responsibility for crime. The tend-
ency is now, perhaps, to swing to the opposite
extreme, to deny personal responsibility and put
the onus wholly upon society. Either extreme is
an error. The truth seems to be that the responsi-
bility should be divided between the individual
and the group. But the individual life is so im-
plicated in the group-life that only infinite wisdom
could draw the line between the individual and
the social shares of the responsibility. An indi-
vidual has gone wrong and violated the law. An
absolutely just judgment upon him would take
into consideration, first, his antecedents — for his
life is deeply rooted in many lives that have gone
before; second, the influences that went to the
shaping of his personality in his tender years —

348

THE STATE

because then lie was almost like clay in the hands
of environing forces; third, the peculiar stress
of the conditions under which he committed the
lawless act — for, although the evil tendency is
within him, it is not developed except under the
stimulus of some specific situation. Out of the
complicated mesh of past and present influences,
the thread of his free-agency would have to be
disentangled.

It is needless to say that for this no man nor
human tribunal is competent. But the impor-
tant consideration is that the manifest fact
of social responsibility ought to influence pro-
foundly the attitude of the state toward the vio-
lators of its law ; and that in two ways. First, it
places a heavy moral obligation on the state in
the imposition of penalty to aim at the welfare
or benefit of the criminal as well as at the general
welfare of society — and these two aims will be
found on close examination not only to be parallel,
but to coincide. The welfare of society cannot be
conserved if the good of the offender is neglected.
In the second place, it imposes upon the state the
obligation to pursue such policies and secure, as
far as is humanly possible, such an environment
as will not only not pervert the character of its
citizens, i e., will not stimulate into overt activity
their latent tendencies to wrong-doing, but will
encourage and strengthen them in social living.
This is a matter of capital importance. If the
state will recognize this obligation and pursue

349

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

this constructive policy of building up an environ-
ment favourable to social conduct on the part of
its citizens, the result will be a great reduction in
the number of criminals; and its coercive and
repressive activity will become less and less im-
portant and consume less and less of its time and
energy.

It is then entirely practicable that the state's
whole policy with respect to its own citizens should
be governed by the principle of good-will. It is
gratifying to observe that it is not only prac-
ticable, but that the theory and practice of civic
administration is actually moving over to this
basis. Of course, it could not be reasonably ex-
pected that such a transition should be made with-
out serious obstruction. The difficulties lie not
so much in bringing the state to a Christian atti-
tude toward violators of the law as it does in
bringing it to adopt constructive policies that
will prevent crime. The trouble arises from the
close interrelation of the state with economic life
as now organized. There has been for a long
time prevalent a political philosophy which re-
gards it as the chief function of the state to safe-
guard the title to property acquired under a sys-
tem of unregTilated competition. It contends that
the state should exercise only a minimum of con-
trol over the method of accumulating wealth,
limiting its supervision of this process strictly
to two points: the maintenance of the formal
freedom of making contracts and the enforce-

350

THE STATE

ment of contracts, while it concentrates attention
and power upon securing to the owner the title
to the property so acquired.

This policy has resulted in a monstrous in-
version of values. Under modern conditions
freedom of contract often becomes an empty
form, a hollow mockery; and in the defence
of an equally formal private title to property
the health and even the lives of others are
sacrificed. Property is made more sacred than,
man. Human beings are immolated on the altar
of property-right. It is here that the state comes
into the most direct and irreconcilable antagonism
with the Christian spirit. The situation has be-
come most anomalous. It is sometimes claimed
that crimes against the person are decreasing in
number, relative to the population, while crimes
against property are increasing. But as a matter
of fact, by far the greater number of serious
wrongs done to the persons of men are to-day
committed in the accumulation of wealth under
the sanction of the law. The lives of thousands
of employees are annually sacrificed to the greed
of corporations, and the most precious human
interests of tens of thousands of little children are
daily coined into dividends — all legally offered up
as victims on the altar of those twin divinities
of our modern jurists, the sacred freedom of con-
tract, and the inviolable title to property. If, as
is claimed, crimes against property are increas-
ing, it may be interpreted as a natural and in-

351

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

evitable reaction against the inhumanity of this
modern cult. It is not incredible that crimes
against property are increasing because the most
numerous and serious of the wrongs against the
person are legalized practices in the accumulation
of property.

Now, no rational mind can be persuaded that
such an abnormal situation is necessary and un-
changeable. The really impracticable thing is to
continue to maintain social order on this basis.
The consecration of property and the desecration
of human life cannot be pillars of an enduring
state. The endeavour to perpetuate the policy will
inevitably result in the violation of the sacred-
ness of property. It is a warning writ large
before the eyes of all men. Being interpreted,
it is a declaration of the truth that the right to
property cannot be permanently maintained un-
less it represents in the eyes of men some ap-
proximation to righteousness. To thoughtful ob-
servers it is growing more and more manifest
that it is not only practicable but necessary for
the state to adopt a policy in harmony with the
Christian principle. So far is the ethic of Jesus
from being incompatible with the existence of the
state that the stability of the state can be assured
only by its adoption. No opposition, no obstruc-
tion, no specious reasoning, no appeal to musty
precedents, no bribery of public servants can stop
the movement in that direction. The appeal to
the conservative instincts of the people will not

352

THE STATE

avail ; it is the most profound conservative instinct
itself from which the movement springs, the in-
stinct to conserve essential and fundamental hu-
man values.

But it is time to turn to a consideration of the
second problem — the failure of the ethic of Jesus
to inculcate civic duties. If what has been said
be true, the objection is already answered for the
most part. Civic duties are but the application
of His principles to civic life. The value of the
state, as of any other institution, lies in the serv-
ice it performs in the conservation and promotion
of the great human interests ; and these interests
can be conserved and promoted only in the prac-
tice of His principle of loving righteousness. He
said nothing about loyalty to the state ; but those
who accept His principles can never be lacking
in loyalty to the state so long and so far as the
state performs its duty, however imperfectly, of
conser^dng fundamental human interests. It is
immoral to require that loyalty on any other
ground. He said nothing as to patriotism. But
however much patriotism may be magnified, the
fact remains that it is a relative virtue. It is
highly prized in proportion to the sense of oppo-
sition, actual or potential, between one's own and
other countries. It has its maximum value when
the opposition develops into overt hostility and
the safety of the special interests of the nations
calls for the unconditional devotion of all their
members. As the sense of opposition of national

'^ 353

JESUS AND SOCIAL PEOGRESS

interests declines, the distinctively patriotic feel-
ing also declines.

In a word, patriotism is a function of the
group-consciousness. As this broadens and ex-
tends beyond the limits of one's special group,
his attachment to it is modified by the sense
of community of interests with a wider circle.
If the expansion continues until one's social con-
sciousness becomes coterminous with humanity,
he will normally feel still a special attachment
to his particular national or sectional group, but
he will love it not as against the rest of the world,
but as for the rest of the world. He will value it
on account of its value to universal humanity.
The centre of gravity of his devotion will no
longer be his fractional group, but mankind. He
will love his fellow-citizens primarily because they
are men, not because they are American, or Eng-
lish, or German, or French. He may find pleasure
in the peculiar national flavor of their humanity,
but humanity will be to him the supreme interest,
and more and more will his appreciation of the
particular type be conditioned by his estimate of
its value as a contribution toward the perfection
of the human type. Wliat is my country worth
to the world? What can it do for the uplift of
all men? These are questions which will more
and more enter into his appraisement of his own
nationality, or of any other group with which he
may be identified.

There is every reason to suppose that Jesus
354

THE STATE

had this feehng for His own people. But He did
not inculcate the virtue of patriotism, because He
sought to develop the passion for humanity; and
the patriotism which cannot be absorbed into this
higher devotion is, to say the least, of relative
and temporary value and is useful only in a state
of group-conflict, overt or latent, which it was
the mission of His religion to bring to an end.
Under the dominance of His spirit the different
nations will no longer stand confronting one an-
other in a tense attitude of opposition. Their
frontiers will no longer be marked by lines of
fortresses bristling with cannon; across their
boundaries will go on the free interchange of
material and spiritual values. Their loyal citizens
will no longer be drafted and drilled into mighty
war machines for killing their enemies, but will
be trained to the far more worthy task of com-
municating their best achievements to all others.
The test of their loyalty will no longer be their
readiness to die in defense of their country, but
their enthusiasm in converting its peculiar treas-
ures into universal possessions. This sort of
•patriotism is not only not absent from the ethic
of Jesus ; it is central in it.

It needs to be said again and again that
by far the most important and abiding, if
not the only, benefit that has resulted from
group-conflicts has been the communication of
whatever social values each possessed. In war,
tribes and nations have learned to know one an-

355

JESUS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS

other and have learned from one another. When
incorporation and amalgamation have taken place,
it has been the real human values brought by-
each into the union that have enriched the re-
sultant civilization. It may be granted that this
communication of values had better be accom-
plished by means of conflict than not at all, but
surely human experience has demonstrated, and
is ever demonstrating on a larger scale, that it
may be far better accomplished by friendly and
peaceful intercourse; that good- will is superior
to war as a method of universalizing whatever of
special worth may be possessed by a particular
people. This truth is slowly sinking into the con-
sciousness of nations. A world-consciousness is
developing; and corresponding to it a world-
conscience is crystalHzing, and it is crystallizing
around the fundamental principle of the ethic
of Jesus — universal good- will. War — and every
form of conflict between men — is more and more
coming under the prohibition of this conscience;
and the particular form of patriotism which has
its genesis in the unfriendly opposition of nations
is growing weaker, while that form of it which
is tributary to the passion for humanity is grow-
ing stronger as the spirit of the Son of man
spreads through the hearts of men and draws
them into a universal and ethical brotherhood.

356

BIBLIOGRAPHY

The following list of publications does not pretend
to be, even approximately, a complete bibliography of
this subject. Only those are included which have had
a more or less conscious influence on the author's thought
in the discussion.

The Origin and Development of the Moral Ideas,

Westermarck; New York, The Macmillan Co., 1908.
Morals in Evolution, Hobhouse; New York, Henry

Holt and Co., 1906.
Social and Ethical Interpretations, Baldwin; New

York, The Macmillan Co., 1906.
The Ethic op Jesus, Stalker; New York, The Mac-
millan Co., 1909.
Social Advance, Watson ; London, Hodder & Stoughton,

1911.
SocLiLiSM AND THE Ethics OP Jesus, Yeddcr; New

York, The Macmillan Co., 1912.
A Philosophy of Social Progress, Urwlck; London,

Methuen, 1912.
The Teaching of Jesus Concerning Wealth, Heuver ;

Chicago, Revell Co., 1903.
Rich and Poor in the New Testament, Cone; New

York, The Macmillan Co.
Der Irdische Besitz im Neuen Testament, Eogge.
The Social Teaching of Jesus, Mathews; New York,

The Macmillan Co., 1897.

357

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Jesus Christ and the Social Question, Peabody ; New
York, The MacmiUan Co., 1909.

Jesus Christ and the Christian Character, Peabody ;
New York, The Macraillan Co., 1905.

Sociological Study of the Bible, Wallis ; Chicago, Uni-
versity of Chicago Press, 1912.

The Moral Life, Davies; Baltimore, Review Publish-
ing Co., 1909.

The Ethics of Jesus, King ; New York, The Macmillan
Co., 1910.

Grenzfragen der Christlichen Ethik, Kirn; Leipzig,
Edelmann, 1906.

The Sayings of Jesus, Harnack (Tr. by Wilkinson) ;
New York, Putnam's Sons, 1908.

Die Sittlichen Weisungen Jesu, Hermann ; Gottingen,
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1907.

La Moral de Jesu, Lahy; Paris, Alcan, 1911.

L 'Organization de la Conscience Morale, Delvolve;
Paris, Alcan, 1906.

SiTTLiCHKEiT UND RELIGION, Jahn ; Leipzig, Der Durr'-
schen Buchhandlung, 1910.

Ethics, Dewey and Tufts ; New York, Henr>^ Holt, 1908.

Christianity in the ]\Iodern World, Cairns; New

York, A. C. Armstrong & Son.
Christianity' and the Soclil Crisis, Rauschenbusch ;

New York, The MacmiUan Co., 1910.

Christianizing the Social Order, Rauschenbusch ; New
York, The Macmillan Co., 1912.

Social Solutions, Hall; New York, Eaton & Mains,
1910.

358

BIBLIOGRAPHY

The Church and Society, Cutting; New York, The
Maemillan Co., 1912.

The New Basis of Civilization, Patten; New York,
The Maemillan Co., 1907.

The Social Basis op Religion, Patten; New York, The
Maemillan Co., 1911.

Religion und Soziales Leben bei den Naturvoelkern,
Visscher; Bonn, Sehergens, 1911.

Die Soziallehren der Christlichen Kirchen und
Gruppen, Troeltsch ; Tiibingen, J. C. B. Mohr, 1912.

Social Adjustment, Nearing; New York, The Mae-
millan Co., 1913.

SOCLA.L Religion, Nearing; New York, The Maemillan
Co., 1913.

Christ in the Social Order, Clow; New York, Geo. H.
Doran Co., 1913.

Newer Ideals of Peace, Jane Addams ; New York, The
Maemillan Co., 1910.

The Spirit of Youth and the City Streets, Jane Ad-
dams; New York, The Maemillan Co., 1910.

Misery and Its Causes, Devine; New York, The Mae-
millan Co., 1909.

Christianity and the Social Order, Campbell; New

York, The Maemillan Co., 1907.
Les Formes Elementaires de la Vie Religieuse, Durk-

heim; Paris, Alcan, 1912.
EssAis Sur le Regime des Castes, Bougie ; Paris, Alcan,

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