Orthodoxy: Its Truths And Errors Part 21

But, after all, take it on the lowest ground, were not the Jews men? Did they not, as a race, represent some element, common, in a less degree, to the rest of mankind? and therefore is there not in each of us something of that Jewish element? Are not we also sometimes Jews, therefore liable to Jewish errors, and needing to have them corrected? The Jews did not live in vain: their struggles, errors, hopes, were for the benefit of humanity.

We were to learn something by their mistakes, and to be taught something by their experience.

Another way of treating such a pa.s.sage is to translate it into some trivial, insignificant commonplace. Thus, we are told, our doctrine only means that "_G.o.d does not approve a man merely for going through a routine of outward, formal ceremonies, but for a thoroughly religious life._" This explanation a.s.sumes that the apostle is here talking to simpletons, and that what he says is no more worth listening to by us than the prattle of a nurse to her infant.

There are, therefore, four ways of explaining this pa.s.sage, none of which are satisfactory. These are, that Paul,-

1. Was teaching a self-evident absurdity;

2. Was teaching a self-evident truism;

3. Was teaching nothing, and only talking at random;

4. Was correcting a Jewish error, which only the Jews ever had, or are ever likely to have.

If these views are not satisfactory to us, the simplest way would seem to be, first, to endeavor to understand precisely what the Jewish error was, and then to see if there is anything like it in ourselves, and if there be anything which we can learn from this old argument which will be, not old, but new for our time and for all time, because a part of the tendencies of man. Let us translate these old terms-_justification_, _faith_, _works_-into their modern equivalents, and see what they mean for us at the present time.

We have shown that we may be mistaken in supposing this Orthodox doctrine of justification to be of merely local and temporary interest, having no permanent value. It is not likely that a man like Paul, of so large, so deep, so philosophic a mind, should have devoted himself so earnestly, and returned so fondly, to a theme involving no universal and eternal principles, whose interest was to perish with the hour. It is not probable that, in this small volume of writings of the new covenant,-this precious gift of G.o.d to the world in all ages and in every nation,-so large a portion should be devoted to a wholly temporary argument; and, more than all, it is a most remarkable fact, that whenever there arises a man uniting a deeper spirit of piety with a larger sense of liberty than other men,-a man commissioned by G.o.d to give a new religious impulse to his age, and to help Christianity to shake itself free from the c.u.mbrous ma.s.s of human forms and traditions which have crushed it, and to go forth in its native grace and loveliness again,-some profound instinct should always lead him to this doctrine as to a weapon effectual for pulling down the strongholds of bigotry, scepticism, and spiritual death. Sir James Mackintosh somewhere says, that the great movement which shook Christendom to its centre, and did more to change and reform society than the political revolutions and wars of a thousand years, originated with an obscure Augustinian monk preaching the doctrine of justification by faith.

This acute Scotchman saw, what all must see who read Luther's writings with any attention, that it was no accident, no temporal interest, which led him to lay such stress on this doctrine. It was the soul of his preaching, the essence of his doctrine, the secret of his strength, the life of his life. And so, when Wesley and the early Methodists were called upon to pour new religious life into the English Church, they fell back on this doctrine-this ancient sword of the Spirit. And so we may believe that it has a value for all ages; that it did not relate merely to Jewish usages, but is a principle of vital and everlasting application.

No doubt that if by faith we understand intellectual belief, or the a.s.sent to opinions, and if by works we understand true obedience, and by justification final salvation or actual goodness, there can scarcely be a greater absurdity than to say that a man is justified by faith, and not by works. To say that goodness, in the sight of G.o.d, consists in receiving certain opinions, rather than in true obedience, is a most unscriptural and irrational doctrine.

But none of the great reformers of whom I have spoken, and no profound theologians of any sect or school, have ever held the doctrines of justification by faith in this way. Neither Luther nor Wesley ever made faith synonymous with intellectual belief or opinion. "What is faith?"

said Wesley. "Not an opinion, nor any number of opinions put together, be they ever so true. A string of opinions is no more Christian faith than a string of beads is Christian holiness. It is not an a.s.sent to any opinion, or any number of opinions. A man may a.s.sent to three or three and twenty creeds, he may a.s.sent to all the Old and New Testament, and yet have no Christian faith at all."

But what is the true doctrine of justification by faith, as taught in the Scriptures, and as inspiring these great reformers? This is naturally our next inquiry.

-- 3. Need of Justification for the Conscience.

There is nothing in the nature of man more paradoxical than conscience. It is that which lifts him to G.o.d; and yet it is that which makes him capable of sin, and without which he could not be a sinner. It gives him the sense of right, but at the same time makes him conscious of wrong. It makes him capable of duty, but thereby also capable of disobedience. It shows us what we ought to do, without giving us the least strength wherewith to do it. It condemns us for not doing right, even when we have no power to do anything but what is wrong. It shows us a great ideal of goodness to which we ought to aspire, and discourages us by the very loftiness of the standard. It tells us in the same breath that we are sinners, and that we ought to be angels. It seems at the same time to elevate and degrade us.

It elevates us by giving a great object to life, and making it serious and earnest; but it degrades us by making us constantly ashamed of ourselves, and keeping us in a perpetual state of humiliation. Now, one of the chief peculiarities of the conscience is, that beyond a certain point, the more we try to obey it, the less satisfaction we have. We know that this is not the usual theory. We are commonly told that the conscientious man is always contented and happy,-satisfied with himself, and at peace with G.o.d.

But facts contradict this theory. The conscientious man is apt to be very much dissatisfied with himself,-much, more so than the man whose conscience is torpid and indifferent. There is comfort in faithful work; no doubt there is great content in the steady performance of regular duties; but here conscience is subordinate to work. It is _work_ which gives contentment; but CONSCIENCE, when thoroughly roused by the strong meat of a divine law, is the source of much self-dissatisfaction. How can it be otherwise? It shows us that we ought to _love G.o.d and love man with all our heart, soul, mind, strength_. Which of us does it? Do you? Do I?

How large a part of our life have we given to the service of G.o.d? how large a part to the service of our neighbor? How often do we thank G.o.d for his goodness? How often do we pray to him? how often _think_ of him? If we do not think of him, of course we do not love him.

Love makes us very thoughtful of another's wishes. When people love each other, they joy in thinking of each other; they treasure souvenirs of each other; they like to make each other presents of things they think will please; they steal an hour from daily cares or nightly rest to write letters to each other. Our heavenly Father's arms are around us all day,-his infinite bounty blessing us, his careful providence making for us home, friends, all; yet we do not think of him, or wish to do anything to please him.

Conscience tells us that our heart is hard and cold to our best Friend; and that is by no means a pleasant piece of information.

Moreover, it is evident that this condition of self-dissatisfaction is not a good one. _Self-reproach may be a wholesome medicine, but it is a bad food._ We cannot do our work while we are finding fault with ourselves.

The man whose conscience is always tormenting him is in a morbid state. He is a spiritually sick man,-sick of too much medicine. What must be done?

He is always looking at his sins, and that disqualifies him for doing his duties. What shall he do?

This question in its Jewish form is stated thus: HOW SHALL HE BE JUSTIFIED BEFORE G.o.d? If G.o.d can excuse him, he can excuse himself. How, then, can he know that G.o.d looks at him not as a sinner, but as a just man, so that he can look on himself not as a sinner, but as a just man? This is the problem. What are its solutions?

In the Jewish mind, the Jewish law had brought the conscience into an extremely irritable state. The same effect, in a less degree, is produced by the Catholic confessional.

-- 4. Reaction of Sin on the Soul.

Now, the consequences of sin are these: First, every act of sin brings after it natural evil consequences. It weakens the strength of the soul, it darkens the spiritual eye, it hardens the heart, it adds a new link to the chain of evil habit. By a result as inevitable as the law of gravitation, every act of sin pollutes, darkens, weakens the spiritual principle in man. "He who sows to the flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption." We may call these results the _external_ consequences of sin, because they change our spiritual relation and position in G.o.d's external universe. But there is another more awful and as inevitable consequence of sin. It alienates us from G.o.d himself. It turns our face from the Source of life and love. It makes us at war with him. It fills us with the sense of his displeasure, and burdens us with the consciousness of guilt. To escape the dreadful sense of his anger, we hide ourselves from him, as Adam did. It is a law of the human mind that we dread the sight of any one whom we have wronged, because it condemns us. Perhaps he may be perfectly willing to forgive us; perhaps he does not even know that we have wronged him; but we cannot bear to see him, notwithstanding. It was a profound feeling of this law which led an ancient historian to say, "He hated him because he had injured him." Thus an active conscience, if it does not make a man better, will make him worse: to escape its torture he will plunge into new crimes. Some of the darkest crimes which stain the page of history may be traced to this source,-to the operation of a conscience strong enough to produce the sense of guilt, but not strong enough to produce the determination to reform. It is related that when the mother of Charles IX. of France and his uncles were urging the young king to consent to the execution of some of the princ.i.p.al Protestants to whom he was strongly attached, after a long resistance, when he at last gave way, it was with these remarkable words: "I consent, then, but only on one condition,-that you do not leave a Huguenot in France to reproach me with it."(18) And hence the Bartholomew Ma.s.sacre, which its authors had intended before only to include a few individuals. So sin takes occasion by the law, and the commandment ordained for life becomes death.

The same principle operates with respect to G.o.d. We have broken his law.

We feel that he must be displeased with us; we therefore hide ourselves from him, turn away from him, avoid the thought of him, are alienated from him. This is the greatest evil of sin, and this we may call the inward consequence of sin, because it affects our inward relation to G.o.d rather than our outward relation to the universe.

And now, how are we to be reconciled to G.o.d? How are we to be freed from this sense of guilt which falls on us in his presence, and makes us fear and shun him?

-- 5. Different Methods of obtaining Forgiveness.

There are two ways in which, when we have injured our brother, and so have become estranged from him, we may become reconciled again, and freed from a sense of shame in his presence. One is by endeavoring to atone for the evil we have done by acts of kindness, by expressions of penitence. So at last we may feel that we have done him far more good than evil; and though he may not forgive us or be reconciled to _us_, we, on our part, may feel freed from any shame in his presence, and be reconciled to _him_. The other way is by _his_ coming to _us_, and _proving_ to us, by his conduct and words, that he is not estranged from us by our bad conduct; that he loves us as ever. So he will overcome our evil by his good, and reconcile us to him.

The pagan nations in all ages and lands have taken the first way of being reconciled to G.o.d. Oppressed by a guilty fear of their terrible idols, they have brought as gifts to their altars what they had most valuable; they have hung their gold, their jewels, in the temple; they have slain their cattle on the shrine. Still unable to pacify their trembling hearts, they have gone farther, and sought to prove the sincerity at least of their repentance by self-inflicted tortures, and by giving even their children's lives to the b.l.o.o.d.y power whom they worshipped. Hence sacrifices: they originated in the very same feeling which induces a man to give a present to one whom he has wronged, to appease him.

Pagan religions are founded, therefore, wholly on the first mode of reconciliation. The offending party comes to him whom he has injured, and does something to pacify him. But these religions never brought peace to the heart of the worshipper. After the wretched mother had dropped her infant into the burning arms of Moloch, she still had no evidence that his wrath was turned away.

In the religion of Moses, the first mode of reconciliation was united with the second. Pitying the weakness of man, the law allowed him to bring his sacrifice of birds or beasts or the fruits of the soil, and place it on G.o.d's altar as an expiation and atoning offering for his sin; and then, the suppliant, having faith in the permanent presence of G.o.d in the holy of holies, was received again to favor and a.s.sured of pardon. The Jew, who had broken any of the laws of Jehovah, knew exactly what to do in order to be reconciled to his national G.o.d and King. G.o.d had pointed out the way which he would accept. By certain acts of sacrifice and rest.i.tution, the Jew became once more worthy of living under the protecting care of Jehovah.

This mode of reconciliation under the law was far superior to that in pagan religions. It gave temporary peace to the conscience, though not permanent. It prevented the sinner from going farther from G.o.d, though it did not unite him with G.o.d in unbroken union. It kept the conscience awake, and prevented it from being hardened. It was a schoolmaster to bring the Jews to Christ. It was a preparation for a more excellent way.

In the Epistle to the Hebrews, the writer declares that the law was but the shadow of that which was to come; that it could not, "by the sacrifices offered year by year, make the comers thereunto perfect; for then would they have ceased to have been offered, because the worshippers, once purged, would have had no more conscience of sin." The sacrifice made no revelation of G.o.d's character and love, planted no root of piety in the heart: it relieved the conscience only for this once, only with respect to this one sin; and there its influence ended. And therefore was a new covenant necessary, and promised by the prophets, and looked forward to by holy men, when they should be reconciled not by works, but by faith.

We have seen that there are two modes by which alienation may be removed: first, by the offending party doing something to atone for his offence; second, by the injured one showing that he has forgiven the offence, and is ready to be reconciled without an atonement. The first mode is the way of reconciliation in pagan religions; the first and second are united in the Jewish religion; the second is the mode in the Christian religion.

-- 6. Method in Christianity.

In Christianity, in the gospel of grace, G.o.d offers pardon freely to those who are willing to accept it. He is ready now to receive those who are ready to come to him. It is only necessary to believe this in order to be reconciled. We are, therefore, reconciled by faith.

But we are said to be reconciled by the death and blood of Christ. How is this? We have seen the source of our alienation: it lay not in G.o.d, but in ourselves. G.o.d had not gone away from _us_; we went away from him. He had not ceased to love us; but by a terrible reaction from our sinfulness, we had ceased to believe in his love. "G.o.d's hand," says the prophet (Isa.

59:2), "is not shortened, that he cannot save, nor is _his_ ear grown dull, that he cannot hear; but _your_ iniquities have separated you from your G.o.d, and your sins have hidden his face from you, that he doth not hear." By an immutable law of our mind, G.o.d's wrath abides on us, and we cannot believe in his love. Here is the source of our alienation. Now, merely to be told that G.o.d is merciful does not wholly help the matter.

True, we say, He _is_ merciful, but not to _us_; we have sinned too long and deeply. Something must be done, then, to _convince_ us that G.o.d is ready to forgive and receive us freely. The death of Christ is the fact which produces this conviction. The death of Christ, therefore, is not merely an _emblem_ of G.o.d's love, but an _act_ of G.o.d's love. It draws us to him. It changes our hearts. It melts our doubt, our distrust. It reveals to us our Father's love. The blood of Christ makes those who were afar off nigh. This all experience teaches as a _matter of fact_. It is the cross of Christ, borne by the simple missionary, preached by the devout Moravian, which, amid the ice of Greenland or beneath the burning sun of the tropic, reconciles the sinner to G.o.d.

And if one asks _how_ the death of Christ does this, we will briefly indicate what we believe to be the way in which it operates. We look at Christ, and see the brightness of G.o.d's glory and express image of his person. We see a holiness pure and perfect, a character infinitely beautiful and lovely. We see how dear and near such a one must have been to G.o.d; and we hear G.o.d say, "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased;" and we hear him say of G.o.d, "My Father has not left me alone; for I do _always_ the things which please him."

And now we look at the world, and see it "lying in wickedness;" we see men trampling on G.o.d's law, polluting his image, cruelly oppressing each other, and boldly defying and mocking at the Almighty. What does he then?

For the sake of these miserable, weak, and wretched sinners, who seem scarcely worth the saving, he sends his holy child among them; he sends this pure being to have his heart rent with the sight and knowledge of human sin; he sends him to be cruelly and shamefully killed by a death of agony, in order that _we_, sinful and miserable, may be reconciled. We say, in the view of all this, "He who spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us, how shall he not _with_ him freely give us all things?" We say, "G.o.d commended his love towards us, in that, while we were sinners, Christ died for us." "Herein is love; not that we loved G.o.d, but that he loved us." Christ, "being lifted up, draws all men unto him."

Thus, in the midst of the gloom of that horrible scene on Calvary, when the power of darkness was at its height,-that crisis of the world, when human sin stood at the flood,-the heavens were opened, and a new ray of divine love poured into the world.