What is essential?

Front matter

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Contents

CHAP, PAGE

I. Who is the Essential Christian ?

1. The Ascetic Conception 3

CHAPTER FIRST Wi^o iiEj ti^e tmntial Ci^tWan?

Sec. 1. The Ascetic Conception

N English writer a few years ago attempted to describe the follower of Christ in a novel which he called "The Christian." The title was a misnomer. The stern, joyless, fanatical John Storm was no more like the Christian than John the Baptist was like Jesus Christ. But in fashioning his hero after the likeness of Christ's forerunner instead of in the likeness of Christ himself. Hall Caine was but following a custom which has been more or less prevalent for nearly twenty centuries. It is indeed true that modern asceticism is of a much milder type than that which characterized mediaeval Christianity. At first sight, it may seem that the family man, who to-day denies himself meat only on Fridays, can claim very [3]

^]^at ijs CjSjsential little resemblance to the man of the past centuries, who on all the days of his companionless existence partook only of bread and water. But though the practice of self-denial is now somewhat less rigorous, the motive for the self-denial is too often fundamentally the same. It is a self-denial which has its purpose only in a form of selfishness. The celibate monk lived on bread and water not for any good that his abstinence might bring to others, but only for the eternal good he hoped to attain for himself. All abstinences for like purposes must be likewise characterized. They are selfish, and selfishness in any form is unchristian. Yet the ascetic type of the Christian is with us wherever we turn. There are men and women everywhere who separate themselves from so-called worldly indulgences and amusements, who are wont to practice only the passive virtues and to obey only the prohibitive commandments. Their motive is the same as that which prompted the monastic to deny himself domestic felicity and physical sustenance. They deny themselves now in order that by and by [4]

they may save themselves. So prevalent even to-day is this ascetic conception of Christianity which has its motive in self-seeking, that we find preachers and evangelists still urging men and women to forego certain social amusements and personal indulgences for fear of what will happen to them if they do not, or for the reward that may come to them if they do. Young people, when asked to avow the life of Christ, inevitably inquire first what they must give up to be Christians, and too often are they taught to weigh the cost of a demanded denial only against the value of a promised reward. "You must give up this or that self-indulgence and pleasure," they are told, ''but you will obtain in return peace in this world and in the world to come eternal life."

Now, if the one purpose of the Christian life were to save one's self, this ascetic conception of Christian living would be tenable. Assuming this purpose, monasteries and nunneries would follow as the legitimate and logical consequences, and the mortification of the flesh would become indeed an admirable virtue. If [5]

^i^at (is CjSiEiential personal salvation into heaven be the one supreme purpose of the Christian rehgion, not only must we highly commend the '' Christian" of Mr. Caine's imagination, but also must we commend all living Christians who have denied themselves any pleasure of this world in order that they may attain the bliss of the world to come.

But this selfish object is not and cannot be the purpose of the true follower of the unselfish Christ. Personal salvation is only one of the results of Christian living, — never its purpose. He who would save his life must lose it, said Jesus. And the only way to attain salvation, he declared, was not to seek it as an end in itself, but to find it as a by-product of selfforgetful service.

One may be an ascetic and still be a Christian, but his asceticism does not make him a Christian. The essence of Christianity does not lie in the self-denial of him who hopes thereby to gain something more desirable for himself. One cannot condemn another for such self-denial. It is every man's privilege to forego a [6]

i pleasure to-day for the enjoyment of an anticipated greater pleasure to-morrow. We all do that, but we do it because we are prudent, — not because we are Christians. The Christian virtue of self-denial is the denial of self for the sake of the welfare of someone else. Only such self-denial should be dignified by the name of sacrifice. Only such can properly be said to inhere in essential Christianity.

Sec. 2, The Conformist Conception

A man of a somewhat cynical turn of mind once made the statement that so far as he had observed, Christianity was but another name for conformity. By this remark he evidently meant to assert that the Christian profession was not a matter of inner principles but of outer practices.

He had observed, it may be, that those who had professed to be followers of Christ and those who had made no such profession were apparently actuated by the same life-purposes. He doubtless had seen professed Christians who were quick-tempered and unforgiving. He had [7]

WW i^ €jsi8enttal seen those who were proud and arrogant, opinionated and bigoted. He had seen professed Christians in business who manifested a selfish and grasping disposition, perhaps even those who stooped to base and immoral methods to increase their personal profit. It is possible that he had observed that professed Christians, even in their organized Christian activities, were not always actuated by the spirit of humility and of gentle forbearance. It is barely conceivable that he had seen church members wrangling for positions of honor in the very Church of God, and quarreling with their brethren in Christ over matters of personal opinion and of personal preference. Yet this man had likewise observed that all these proud, bigoted, selfish, quarreling Christians were conformists. They practiced certain Christian forms and participated in certain Christian ceremonies. For instance, they went to church on Sunday morning. They repeated together certain formulas and articles of faith. They bowed reverently during public prayer. In some churches they responded audibly to the [8]

prayers with commendable fervency. They listened politely to the rhetorical sentences of cultured preachers. But after the weekly service was over they went back to their homes to take up again their schemes of business and political trickery, or to renew their struggle for social supremacy.

Though this picture is happily somewhat overdrawn, the man is perhaps excusable for his cynical inference. In these days of the popularity of the Christian religion, conformity to accepted Christian customs has become indeed a serious menace to vital Christianity. There is no temptation more insidious than the temptation to allow the habitual to become the formal. The acts which we perform with recurrent regularity are always those acts which are in most danger of losing their vitality. This is true whether the acts in their significance be domestic, industrial, social or religious. The home-maker is in danger from the treadmill of routine. The clerk in the office is in imminent peril of becoming a lifeless machine. The lady on her customary round of social calls [9]

WW i^ CjSjsetttial is extremely liable to make the calls in a listless and perfunctory manner. We need not, therefore, be surprised if the Christian in his recurrent religious duties is in danger of deteriorating into a formalist.

For indeed the expression of the Christian life, as well as the expression of any other phase of human life, demands its routine of duties. There must be Christian habits as well as business and social habits. The habitual conformist to accepted Christian customs is no more to be condemned than he who conforms his business methods to the conventional business customs of his day.

But when thus we admit the necessity for regular Christian customs and therefore the advisability of habitual Christian conformity, we do not therefore admit the necessity of a loss to Christian vitality. In the recurrent Christian ceremonies there is indeed danger of such a loss ; sadly must we confess that many in their conformity have seemed to meet with loss; but the loss is not necessary. When a man goes to his habitual business equipped with the purpose [10]

that through the daily routine he will attain success, his conformity to business customs will not endanger his business achievement. So when a man is determined to let recurrent Christian observances be to him an expression of his purpose to succeed in Christian living, that man is in no serious danger of losing the vitality of his religion.

Our cynical friend, then, was wrong in his excusable inference. Christianity is not conformity. At its worst, conformity may become a substitute for Christianity. At its very best, it can only be considered as one expression of Christianity. No man is a Christian because he conforms to prescribed Christian customs. If he does conform, it must be only because through the habitual participation in Christian observances he hopes the better to succeed in Christian living.

Sec. 3. "Back to Christ''

A decade or more ago the cry " Back to Christ" became the shibboleth of many Christian thinkers, some of whom were possessed of

I^l^at t0 Csusenttal temperaments distinctly iconoclastic. As used by these the cry became the signal for the attempted disparagement of historic Christianity. The extremists of this type of thinkers would allow no necessary growth from the seed planted by Jesus. They insisted that his religion must be considered as having sprung from him full grown and completely armed, just as Pallas Athene is fabled to have sprung from the head of Zeus. Of course, no writer said exactly this in words, but this is a logical inference from their destructive assertions.

When we demand that the Christian of to-day shall be no different from the contemporary follower of the historic Jesus of Nazareth, we make the demand that Christianity of all of God's forces shall be the only force which shall not be subject to His universal law of development. When we make this one exception for our religion, we make of our religion the one thing in all God's world which is not only unnatural but which is inert and lifeless. If Christianity be a living thing, it must be a [12]

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growing thing. If it be divine, it must be capable of development.

The cry "Back to Christ" when taken thus to preclude all development from Christ, would lead us to illogical and impossible conclusions, and to most absurd practices. "Back to Christ" would be back to Jewry. If we should do exactly as Christ did, not only should we travel bareheaded and clothe our feet in sandals, but we should observe the Jewish Sabbath, and worship in the synagogue. We should have for our sacred books only the Law and the Prophets, for "Back to Christ" literally interpreted involves the loss to us of the religious value of all the books of the New Testament, except indeed the biographies contained in the Gospels. If we should go back to Christ in this literal sense, we should go back of the Church, back of all forms of organized Christianity, back of all attempts at systematic Christian teaching, back to a time of an uncoordinated individualism, from which, deprived of its organized and historic development, there would result only anarchy and chaos. [13]

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But, fortunately, we cannot thus go back to him. Try as hard as we may, we cannot take the fruit of two thousand years of Christian growth and make of it only the seed from which the fruit has developed. We cannot do that, any more than we can cause the apple in our hand to dwindle to the tiny black seed which held the germ of the apple's life. We may not claim that the fruit of Christianity is yet fully grown. The apple may be small and unripe, but it is nevertheless something diflFerent from its germinal seed, something different and something more. That is because it is the fruition of a living germ, and both the germ and the process of growth are divine. Yet ''Back to Christ" in a sense we must all go for our conception of his religion. Back to him, not for the fruit of Christianity, but for its germ. Back to him must we go for the eternal life-giving principle which, through the sunlight of God's favor and the raindrops of the tears of many sacrifices, has grown until it has civilized nations, aye, and which shall grow until "all the kingdoms of the world have be- [14]

come the Kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ."

For though we must expect our fundamental Christianity of to-day to be something other and more than the Christianity of two thousand years ago, there can be in our developed and developing religion only that whose embryo was in Christ. The germinal seed of our Christian religion is Christ himself. It is not any teaching of Christ, much less is it any doctrine about Christ, but Christ in his very life and character. All, therefore, that inheres in the essential nature of Christianity must have its origin in Christ and must find its expression in a likeness to Christ. When we have understood what likeness to Christ involves in our present day, we have understood the very essence of Christianity. When we have applied that knowledge to our own lives, we have become Christians.

Sec. 4. The Imitation of Jesus

Some attempt to imitate Christ has never been

absent from historic Christianity. Too often,

WW tjs t^^mtial however, the imitation of him has been literal instead of spiritual, an imitation of the human setting of his life instead of an appropriation of the divine spirit that was within him. Jesus was poor, so certain monks took upon themselves the vow of poverty. Jesus never married, so churchmen became celibates. Jesus washed his disciples' feet, so the Pope annually washes the feet of twelve dirty beggars. Jesus was baptized in early manhood, and we have a whole denomination who make adult baptism the basis of their denominational separation. Jesus is reported to have healed the sick with the touch of his hand, and behold we are surrounded by myriads of quack practitioners, Christian Scientists and faith-healers, who deny the efficacy of every other school of healing but their own, and who eschew all the remedies provided in God's world and discovered by God's children.

Jesus shared the popular beliefs of his day. He believed in demonology, in the existence of a personal devil, and in the control of human individuals by the devil's emissaries. There- [16]

fore we have a page in the history of our own country sullied by the superstition of witchcraft. Therefore, too, we have even to this present day those who persist in attributing the deviltry of their own meannesses to the subjugation of an omnipotent arch enemy of the omnipotent God.

But no attempt to imitate the exact things which Jesus did, or to share his first-century beliefs, can be called essentially Christian, for none are in very essence Christlike. The reality of my likeness to my great-grandfather does not consist in my wearing knee breeches and adorning my head with a peruke. Nor does it consist in my refusal to accept the verities of science which have been demonstrated since his day. I am like my ancestor because in me there is something of the spirit that was in him, because I can appreciate his ideals and life-purpose, because I have like aspirations and similar methods of endeavor. But my aspirations and my methods of work I must apply to twentieth-century conditions. The very development of the Christian religion [17]

WW ij8 Cisjsential has so modified and ennobled the conditions of Hfe that no man can claim to be Christlike to-day who does only what Jesus did twenty centuries ago. To be like Christ, he must apply the spirit of Christ to the century in which he himself is living.

Some unsatisfactory attempts have been made of late years to imagine what Christ would be like if he should come to Chicago or to Boston. The simple truth is, that in such an instance Christ would outwardly be much like the ordinary American citizen of to-day. He would believe the truths of the twentieth century just as in his time he believed the truths of the first century. He would accept the conclusions of modern science. He would use the help of modern discoveries. The motive of his life would be the same; its manner of expression would be different. He would still alleviate human suffering, he might even cure the sick, but probably he would do it to-day by the application of a knowledge of physiology, psychology and hygiene rather than by the performance of miracles. He would still forgive [18]

sin, but he would not appear to explain sin as the work of a personal devil.

If Christ should come to America to-day he would not be crucified, nor would he be put to death by any more modern and refined method of capital punishment. He would not be put to death at all. He would not suffer even the martyrdom of active hatred. He would suffer to-day from passive indifference. Nowhere in all the length and breadth of this tolerant land would men pick up stones to cast at him, but many would pass him by with averted faces in their selfish pursuit of pleasure and of profit.

Here, too, in the sufferings of Christ must we separate the essential, eternal element from the form in which it was clothed in the age in which he lived. It was not the Roman cross which made Christ suffer; it was the sin of the people which brought him to the cross. It was not the hatred of his followers which made him a "man of sorrows and acquainted with grief"; it was the selfishness which caused them to hate him who was pure and loving. He would have [19]

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"gathered them to himself" and they ''would not." That unwillingness of selfishness caused the cross in the first century. In the twentieth century it would cause only indifference. But the suffering of the Savior would be the same so long as men "would not."

Imagining thus a different setting to the life of Christ, though our imagination must prove hopelessly inadequate, we nevertheless find help in differentiating the actual experiences of Jesus from the essential spirit which actuated him. Thus, the actual poverty of his condition was incidental because he happened to be born into the family of a poor carpenter; but his humility of spirit was essential. His baptism by John in the Jordan was incidental, the mode of his consecration being determined by the time and the place; but the purpose of his baptism, to manifest his consecration to his life-work, was essential. The form in which temptation was presented to him was incidental; the power to resist, essential. The method of his ministry was occasioned by the times in which he lived, the miracles, therefore, [20]

may be considered incidental; but the loving purpose of the ministry was essential. So, the physical suffering of the tragedy of Calvary was incidental, occasioned by the malignant hatred of the scribes and Pharisees and the cruel cowardice of a self-seeking Roman governor; but the spiritual suffering, sorrow for unrepentant sinners, was essential. To be like Christ, then, is to be humble in spirit, to be consecrated to service, to be strong to resist temptations, to be patient and sympathetic in ministry, and to be sorry for unrepentant sinners. These Christlike qualities the Christian of to-day must apply to the conditions of to-day.

The possession of these qualities will lead him to self-denial, but the self-denial will be for the purpose of helping others instead of saving himself.

The possession of these qualities will presumably lead him into conformity with some prevalent type of Christian observance, a conformity wherein he may publicly acknowledge his consecration to service, and whereby he [21]

Wi^at ijs €$^mtial may make his service as efficacious as possible. But his conformity will be an expression of his Christlikeness. It cannot in itself cause his Christlikeness.

The possession of these qualities in the present stage of the development of Christ's religion will compel the Christian to do certain things which were not thought of in Christ's time. It may force him to believe some things which were unbelievable before Christ's leaven had leavened the mass of the world's ignorance. But the spirit which vitalizes his beliefs and actuates his deeds will be in him the fruit of the germinal spirit of Christ.

The essential Christian is one who strives to be actuated by the spirit of Christ.

CHAPTER SECOND CreeD?

Sec. 1. A Popular Demand of the Day

T is quite the fashion in these days to belittle any definite form of Christian belief.

Creed subscription has been relegated to the realms of oblivion not only by the outside critics of the religion of Jesus, but even by some of its most prominent exponents. Give us a practical religion, not a speculative philosophy, is a demand of the day. And in answer to this demand, episcopates and presbyteries are overhauling their ancient formulas of faith, while some independent churches have already filed away the creeds of their fathers, substituting therefor simple declarations of Christian purpose, and short covenants of church loyalty. This popular demand for a practical religion [23]

^i^at tjs €jSi8ent(al is expressive of a particular stage of the development of the religion of Christ. Indeed it is one of the signs which seem to indicate the beginning of a new epoch of Christian activity. If one were to attempt to describe in a word the manifestation of the Christian religion which is characteristic of the twentieth century, one would use the word philanthropy. In former less busy and more philosophic centuries, Christians were naturally interested in a desire to understand God. Those were the days of theology. But in this practical, busy age, speculative explorations into the realm of the abstruse and intangible have ceased to be of paramount interest. To-day, instead of asking, "What can I believe about God?" men are asking, "What can I do for men?"

This is a change of interest in the religion of Christ, but by no means a lack of interest. It is a change which we should naturally expect, if we but remembered that the religion of Jesus, like everything else in God's world, is a development, and if we gave due weight to [24]

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the modifying truth that the development of religion must run parallel to the development of society.

The century just opening to us is a century which is marked by intense activity along all lines of human interest. It will not be a great literary age. It will be an age impatient of abstruse thinking and of philosophical reasoning. The brains of this century will be devoted for the most part to the pursuit of tangible achievements. Scientists will turn their attention more and more towards discoveries which shall be not merely interesting but useful. Writers and lecturers will deal more exclusively with themes that are closely connected with the everyday work of a busy world. Philosophers and essayists will be practical utilitarians, at least in what they contribute to the world's thought. But by far the most of the brain effort of the next century will be directed towards industry and commerce, government and finance, civic and social improvements. Since the universal trend of the times is toward activity, the trend of the religion of Jesus [25]

wm i^ Cjsjsential must be towards a Christlike control of that activity. Preachers, evangelists and Christian reformers in this century must tell men how they may act like Christ rather than merely what they must think about Christ. Churches must increasingly inspire their members to the ministry of the poor, the sick, and the unfortunate, and they must not be content if they only furnish a place of worship for their own supporters. If clergymen and church officers will but heed the signs of the times, the coming years will be productive of great progress toward the Christian solution of the problems of industry and politics, towards the betterment of the condition of the poor, and towards the decrease of the selfishness of the rich. It will be a century made notable by the successful operation of many forms of Christian charity, and by the development of new enterprises for the Christianization of the world. Every man, then, who is interested in the advance of the Kingdom of God in the world should hail the cry for the revision or the abolition of church creeds as the herald of new [26]

WW i^ t^t (B^^mtial Creed

opportunities for Christian activity. For, be sure of this, there would be no such demand if men were indifferent to the Christian reHgion. It is because they are practically and truly religious that they are impatient of the repetition of old formulas which have in themselves no necessary connection with Christian living. The demand of the day is not for the abolition of any belief which may be necessary to rational Christian activity, but it is a demand most insistent and imperative for the abolition of all beliefs that are not necessarily involved in the very essence of the religion of Jesus.

Sec. 2. The Unessential Christian Belief

The unessential Christian belief is that belief of the intellect which has no direct bearing upon the conduct of the life. In other words, it is the belief which is not convertible into action. If in itself it can neither make a man better, nor inspire his effort, then it is unessential. It may be true, but it is not vital. It may be reasonable and logical, but it is not fundamental. Christianity is the art of living, not a mere [27]

Wm i^ cB^^entfal science of life. The Christian, therefore, must be considered only as an artist. As an artist, he needs a beHef in certain practical verities. But he can leave to the scientist all philosophical speculations which may seek to account for those verities. For illustration, suppose a man is set to till the soil. If he is to be a successful agriculturist, he must believe certain fundamental truths concerning the rotation of the seasons and the fertility of the soil. Did he not believe these verities, as a rational man he would not plow his field nor plant his seed; hence he could not reap his harvest. But he does not need to understand all the scientific explanations of atmospheric pressure, of climatic changes, and of the chemical properties of the soil. He needs to believe that the seed will grow, else he will not plant it, but he need not be compelled to believe all the speculative theories which try to account for the seed's inherent vitality. If we accept this analogy, we are ready for a general statement concerning the Christian's beliefs that are unessential. The Christian, [28]

since he is a rational being, must believe that the seed which he drops will grow. He must believe that a good deed will have a good influence, or he will not try to perform good deeds. He must believe that a life of sacrifice is more noble than a life of selfishness, or he will not try to live such a life. But to be successful in living Christ's life, he does not need to believe the theologian's scientific theories concerning the reason why good deeds bear good fruit; nor yet need he accept either the oldest or the newest theological explanation of the origin of love. The explanation may be correct; that is, some explanation may be correct. Evidently all explanations cannot be true in all their details, for many of them are inherently contradictory. But whether the theological explanation be true or not, is now beside the question. It is not vital. Just as the verity of sunlight is independent of all astronomical explanations concerning the origin of the sun, so the verity of the life of Christian love is independent of all theological explanations of the nature of that love. [29]

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It does not follow, therefore, that theology has no reason for existence. That would be like the affirmation that astronomy and chemistry are unneeded sciences. But theological speculation is only for the Christian man of science. The Christian practitioner need accept no particular dogma of speculative theology. He need believe only the verities which he can convert into action and which, therefore, alone can affect the cultivation of his character. Should one attempt to enumerate the specific doctrines of the Church that are thus to be classified as unessential, he would surely be severely criticised. In prudence, it would be much safer to leave to each individual the application of the general principle which has here been stated. At the risk, however, of adverse criticism, for the sake both of clearness and of comprehensiveness, the application of the principle must be made somewhat specific. If the proposition be true that Christ is the vital principle of the Christian religion, and that essential Christianity is Christlikeness, we should not hesitate to deduce from this prop- [30]

osition the following corollary relating to the Christian belief. The Christian's essential belief is that which has grown from Christ. And, on the contrary, all beliefs are unessential which do not have their origin in him. This assertion does not mean to imply that there can be no enlargement and development of Christian doctrine. There must be growth. As Christianity itself is a development arising from the application of Christ's principle of life to succeeding conditions, so the truths of Christianity must be developed along parallel lines. There will always be a demand for a new theology to keep pace with the growth of vital religion. One may to-day reasonably believe truths about God and Christ, which Paul and Augustine did not believe, — but to be a Christian he need not believe any truth which has not grown naturally and inevitably from the truth that actuated Christ himself. The dogmas of theology which Jesus did not make the basis of his life may safely be considered as unnecessary to the foundation of the Christian's life.