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A man's religion; letters to men

William Fraser McDowell · 1913 · Scanned text · Free in the US

31,879 words · about 2 h 14 min to read

Period artwork: Interior of the Bodleian Library, 1845
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About this book

Author
William Fraser McDowell
Language
English
Published
1913
Length
31,879 words · about 2 h 14 min
Sections
15 reader sections
Text
Scanned text, read from page scans by OCR; may contain errors
Rights
Public domain in the United States

 

Contents (15)

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Foreword

A preface to a small volume of letters? The foreword to a letter is not important; the postscript is the thing. But if there must be a foreword, let it be this: In a certain Annual Conference a generous brother was reading the resolutions of appreciation and thanks. Concerning the presiding bishop he said: 'The bishop's sermons, lectures, and addresses have been greatly benefited by the brethren/' And the bishop liked it. He will like it now if these familiar letters are in any measure benefited by the dear brethren to whom in love they are addressed.

I have to thank the editor and publishers of the Adult Bible Class

FOREWORD

Monthly for the double privilege of writing the letters for that magazine and of reprinting them now in this small volume.

And I close the preface with the prayer most often on my lips as I have been writing to you, the words of that immortal man whose letters on religion are alive to this day: 1 'Grace be with you all."

VI

LETTER I The Man Himself

Dear Brethren: It is my privilege to write you a few letters on the important and interesting subject of "A Man's Religion/ ' Indeed, I might well say these subjects, for men are important and interesting, religion is important and interesting, and taken together they are exceedingly so.

My very first feeling, as I begin, is one of keen sorrow for you and myself that we did not obtain such a series of letters, familiar and intimate in form, from our great philosopher and believer, guide, and teacher, the late Professor Borden P. Bowne. Far away from all his books, I am trying to recall what he did say, and to think what he would I say to you about yourselves and about religion if he were writing these letters.

This first one is begun as we are making our slow way over the Mediterranean from the Church in America to the Church in Southern Asia. Over these waters Saint Paul sailed long ago, though not in such comfort as ours. Not far from where we ride to-day he wrote his immortal letters on religion when the Christian Church was young. Our errand on this journey and my desire in these brief letters are the same as his. We, like the great apostle, are going with the Christ and the cross to a people already "very religious/ 9 The people of Athens had an altar to the "unknown God." The people of India have so many gods they cannot count them with any accuracy.

Within the next few days we shall be within hailing distance of Athens and Corinth and Crete; of the Holy Land and Sinai. We shall actually touch Egypt with its history and its mystery. We shall be forced to think of lawgiver, prophets, apostles, and the early life of our Lord. We shall read again those parts of the Old and the New Testaments most clearly related to these regions; and all the while we shall be going steadily forward, in the interest of men and religion, to Asia with its uncounted temples and gods. Everywhere around the world we shall be in touch with religious history, practices, beliefs, institutions, and life. We shall see many forms of faith and practice — some good, some bad, some unspeakable, but all full of meaning. We shall see many peoples, and people of all 3 classes and conditions, and return at last, when the summer is young again, to our own land and our own people. Is there a word that may be said to the men at home and abroad which shall in some measure define and interpret men to themselves as religious, and religion to them as men? Is there any unity between countries as well as centuries? Is there a common word on religion that may be said to men everywhere? I devoutly pray that the Holy Spirit may guide me as I write these familiar letters to you in the name of the Man of Galilee.

Perhaps my very first word should be about you yourselves as men, or about ourselves as men. We have been written about and talked about for many centuries. Sometimes this has been done in the language of theology, sometimes in the language of science and philosophy, sometimes in the language of poetry, sometimes in eulogy like that of the psalmist or that of the dramatist, sometimes in the language of denunciation and despair. It has not always been easy for a plain man to recognize himself under these forms of thought and speech, though all of them may be partly, even largely, true. For a man does not ordinarily think of himself as a theological, a philosophical, or a poetical being. He does not, as a rule, in his common practice use these terms, however true they are. He thinks of himself in terms of the shop, the street, the office, the farm, the home — the terms of what is called daily life. The normal man, to whom I am writing, does not deny the language of theology or philosophy or poetry. He only wants it 5 translated into the terms of common life. He likes to hear, as he likes to strike, the personal note. Certain men appeal to him because they seem such real men. He knows himself as a personal being and looks upon religion as a personal matter. He is not so sure of either theology or science or philosophy.

Much more than you ordinarily think, however, these things do affect you and are interwoven with your thoughts about yourselves. They are really very practical matters, theology and philosophy are. Most men are both theologians and philosophers, and many have a dash of the poet in them. And I am exceedingly glad to be writing these letters at a time when the personal, human note is so dominant in theology and philosophy. Patrick Geddes once said, rather sharply, "There are 6 two kinds of theologians: one the kind that studies and criticizes other theologians, the other the theologian that has a religious experience." The prevailing note in theologyto-day is the divine-human note, the personal note. The only man who now gets a hearing in theology is the one who tries to answer in terms of human life the questions of human life. The theologian must answer for religion the questions of the common man, but he must do it in the terms of life, the life of to-day and to-morrow.

Now, in order to obtain a starting point, I have asked a devout, intelligent, thoughtful modern man to give me his thought of himself with this large subject in view. This is substantially what he said, after thinking it all over carefully:

"I am a person of affections, 7 opinions, beliefs, tempers, disposition, activities, relations, and hopes. I do not always know what is right, and I do not always do what is right. I have ideals far beyond my achievements either in character or conduct. I have in my past and in my present certain moral imperfections amounting to actual wrong. I do not seem able to get rid either of the disposition to do wrong or the results of doing wrong after it has been done. At the same time I have also a love for the right and a desire to do it, but I do not always seem able to do what I know to be right. I have my own opinions about a lot of things, and am, in darkness and mystery about a lot more. I have as much temper, or as many tempers, some good, some bad, as any one man ought to carry around with him. I am blessed or other- 8 wise by a rather abundant disposition, which is, like the taste of a certain man, 'some of it good/ I am not naturally a skeptic. I prefer to believe rather than to doubt. I used to think it did not matter much what a man believed, but only how he lived. I have found out that a right belief mightily helps to a right life, and I have also found out that right life makes faith in right easier and surer. I am intensely interested in and grateful for everything that helps me to be a better man. A large part of my life is taken up with making a living for myself and my family — chiefly for my family. All this seems to me a part of my real life, and I must have a religion that takes my occupation into account. Otherwise it is of small value to me. I have a lot of activities — 9 political, social, and philanthropic — that are not a part of my regular occupation, but are a very large part of my real life. Religion must be in them also, it seems to me. I am a man of deep affection and strong friendships. My daily life is gladly bound up with my family and with my friends. Life does not seem to offer anything better than these relations. I do not love all men equally well. I find it hard, almost impossible, to love some men at all, but I do not find it hard to wish all men well and to do what I can for their good. I belong to the Church and believe in it.

"My theology, what I have, is very simple, my love for God very sincere. Many questions do not interest me, though I have great patience with men disturbed by 10 doubts. I pray, though prayer is a mystery, because, somehow, prayer seems to bring me good. It seems more reasonable and much more profitable to pray than not to. I read my Bible, though it does not all seem equally interesting or valuable to me, because, somehow, that helps me in my daily life. If I knew a better book, one that did me more good, I should use it. I feel good when I do good or am good, and I 'catch it' inside of me when I do wrong. I would like to be one of Jesus Christ's true and steadfast friends. He deserves the best any man can give him, and his friendship would be good for me. I think it would be a good world if Jesus Christ and his principles were everywhere dominant.

"I am immensely interested in the present world, the life that ii now is. It seems good to me to be alive, with such activities, such personal possibilities, and such relations as life offers. I have lost a lot of friends and loved ones by death. I hope to find them again when death comes to me. They live still in my love. I cannot believe that they have ceased to live except in my love. So, though I cannot see nor prove, I hold fast with Jesus Christ to another life. There ought to be a place somewhere for a man to be perfectly free from sin, from trouble, and from death: a place where relations are perfect and faith is unclouded. All this makes up my life as a man. It does not seem very profound. It seems really very ordinary to me, but life itself perhaps is ordinary. Anyhow, these statements in themselves and their implications tell you pretty clearly 12 what at least one man is and desires. And I find men generally very much like myself/ '

So he spoke for himself, and I doubt not for many others. He said, as anyone can see, that he was a person of faults and virtues, of good and evil, of high ideals and common practices, of activities, opinions, beliefs, relations, and hopes. That is about what a man is, about what you are. In thinking of a man's religion it is just about this kind of a man that we must think. The proportions of these elements in different men vary greatly. Not every man could give such a good account of himself, but in differing proportions these are the things belonging to a man. The language of eulogy is as out of place as the language of denunciation. This tells the story of need and of promise, of necessity 13 and of possibility. Religion must be for man as he was, and is, and ought to be.

And that makes religion seem worth while. Somehow as this strong, wholesome, natural man talked of his life, his sins, his beliefs, his activities, his relations, his affections, his hopes for a better future, both the man himself and the religion for him took on a kind of glory. One can easily understand God's own interest in a man if this is what a man is like. One can easily understand how all the love and activities of God himself would break out of any sky into any world where such a being as this man dwells. We are still sailing through these Eastern waters. Just yonder, some men like this — men of life, of love, of hate, of wrong, of right, of families, of trade, of friendships, of hopes, men who were just men — were met once by Another. No wonder the whole country where he came to them is called the Holy Land to this day, for in that land Jesus Christ came to men as they were, men bearing names familiar to us, men engaged as men still are, there and elsewhere. He came to them in their sins, in their opinions, in their tempers, in their beliefs and doubts, in their activities and their friendships, in their hopes for a better world here and hereafter.

He brought his life among them, and the life was their light. He, full of grace and truth, came to them, and a lot of those strong, natural men, receiving him, became sons of God themselves. They got rid of their wrong lives and bad tendencies and evil tempers. They became new men without becoming 15 old men. Their faith, their activities, their relations, their hopes were all transformed by their contact with him. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. Definitions are not necessary. Perhaps they are impossible. But a man is the being for whom and to whom Jesus Christ came. And the religion of Jesus Christ is for the man of Jesus

Christ.

W. F. M.

LETTER II Religion

Dear Brethren: You will remember that in the first letter on this subject I quoted at some length a man's statement about himself. He seemed to speak for men generally. Many men recognized themselves in the portrait this one man drew. I was so interested in what he said that I asked him to tell me what he thought of religion, and he answered about as follows:

"I tried for a good many years to find and then to frame a definition of religion. It seemed to me that I could not understand the thing unless I had and could repeat a definition of it. I now think that this desire for an exact and convenient phrase was not based upon wisdom, 17 that in all such personal matters as religion, definitions must be inadequate and unsatisfactory. The richest and deepest aspects of life cannot be put into a sentence. The classic and traditional definitions of religion seem to me especially partial and outworn, the echoes of a day when the whole stress of religion was laid upon part of it. Take this one for example: 'Religion is the relation between God and man, or between the worshiper and the object of his worship/ That surely is based upon the idea of worship as the chief feature of religion. Now, worship seems to me a very real and essential part of religion, but as a man I have so many other features in my life that this one idea, however large, will not cover them all.

"Or take this one: 'Religion is the life of God in the soul of man/ 18

That seems open to the same objection. It does not cover all that belongs to me as a man. Of course, it is easy to quote certain familiar verses from the Bible, as though they covered the whole case and were meant so to do, but as I grow older and my life grows fuller and richer I do not find that any one passage, however true, fully states my experience. I used to repeat, as though they were final, the words of Micah 6. 8: 'He hath showed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth Jehovah require of thee, but to do justly, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with thy God?' I now think that the Lord requires much besides that. Then I used with much satisfaction the words of Saint James about pure religion: 'Pure religion and undefiled before our God and Father is 19 this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world.'

"As the years have gone all these words have meant more and more to me as a religious man, but less and less as definitions of religion. And I do not think this is because life is growing vague, but because it is growing rich. I would not like to attempt now to put into a sentence the words of eternal life.

"And this corresponds with my experience in other things. I was a young man when the Civil War came. I defined patriotism and loyalty then in a very definite and brief fashion. They meant saving the Union by going to the front. They still mean the life of the Union, only the whole meaning has enlarged so that my old patriotism seems very meager, though it was very real and true. I would once have defined love with a single feature and one person almost exclusively in view. The years have brought to us children and grandchildren, new relation to our own parents and to friends. Sorrow and bereavement have broken into love, and now love defies definition, not because it has grown thin, but because it has become rich. So with this matter of religion. Once I think I could have said in a sentence what it was. It meant then right beliefs. Now it means all that and a thousand things besides.

"I read a sentence the other day which seemed very suggestive to me : 'We must enlarge our definitions if we are to keep them/ I judge that this enlargement of idea comes with the enlargement of religious life. Religion becomes a bigger and better thing as a man becomes a bigger and a better man. Somehow the personal element looms ever larger and religion expands with growing character.

"I am deeply interested in the fact that religion of some sort seems to be universal. I used to think that some men were religious and others wholly without religion; just as I used to think that heathenism was equivalent to irreligion. I do not know how the human race got this universal tendency, but it certainly has it. I have read a lot of books about it, some of them enlightening and some not. I am a plain man, not a philosopher or a historian, and I am grateful for all the real work of the philosophers and historians, because religion seems to me the most important interest of life, and I want all the light I can get upon it. But, after all, as I look at it, the real business is not explaining the philosophy or accounting for the origin of religion in the race. It is not even making men religious. It is to give men with a wrong religion a right one, men with wrong beliefs, wrong practices, wrong relations, wrong activities, wrong lives, wrong ideals, wrong worship, right beliefs, right practices, right relations, right activities, right lives, right ideals, and right worship. Some religions seem better than others and some men better than others. Each of the great religions of the world seems to have some good in it, and this makes me glad. And I have never personally known a man without some good quality or qualities. And I am glad of that, for this gives a point of contact for true religion. I have for many years been studying 23 the question of a man's religion in the lives of religious men in the biographies of the most eminent saints in history.

Some men greatly commend themselves and their religion by one or more admirable features. I admire the teaching of some more than I do their personal character. I admire some of the teaching of some, but balk at the rest. I find certain practices of some very good and wholesome, and I rejoice in every piece of excellence I find anywhere. One day, some years ago, a friend said to me, 'Did you ever study Jesus as a religious man, not to discover the system he established, but to ascertain the religion of his own life?' I never had, but for years I have been doing it. I cannot begin to tell you what it has meant to me to study Jesus and his life in this way. It brings him 24 into life in a positively new sense to live with him in the religion he practiced, the faith he held, the activities of his personal life, the relations he sustained as a religious man, relations to God and relations to men, relations to life itself. Somehow the religion he founded grips me more strongly as I see how it was also the religion he practiced. The things he believed seem worth believing. His creed, though never formally stated in the terms of a creed, embraces the best body of beliefs I have ever found. His practices constitute the best example I have found for my own life. He seemed to know how to live so as to keep his own life free from evil and full of grace and truth ; and his relations with men, women, and children seem ideal. His activities in the world are such activities as the world of our day needs quite 25 as much as did the world of his day.

His habits of prayer and worship are habits worthy of becoming universal. You see what I mean: I interpret religion in the light of Jesus's life as a religious person, in the light of the religion he practiced. His character, his relation to God, his attitude to truth, his faith, his activities, his habits, his relations to others are all that logic or life or love require. I could not easily give a definition of religion, but I can point to Jesus as a religious Person and in him the term becomes plain. He is the best definition of religion that I have ever seen, and I do not seek any further for a satisfactory definition. If anybody asks me how I define religion, I answer that a definition can be found in Jesus Christ. And I do not sing any more, as I used to, 'The old-time religion is good enough 26 for me/ Nor do I say that of even my mother's religion. The only religion that seems good enough to sing about or to practice, to live by or to die by, is the religion of Jesus Christ. I am always afraid of stopping somewhere short of that perfect thing. Studying Jesus Christ in this light has been vastly more fruitful to me than raising the question, 'What would Jesus do?' Anyhow, it has given me a new idea of religion. Christianity does not seem so much like a system as it did, and it does seem a lot more personal. I think of the religion of Jesus Christ now, not chiefly as something received from him, but, rather, as a most precious thing shared with him. It brings both him and his religion a great deal closer to my life to think of them in this way.

"Perhaps this is as good a place 27 as any to speak of some fundamental tests which it seems to me any religion must meet. If a religion is to claim a whole man's whole life, it must meet certain fundamental requirements. They are not abstract nor impersonal conditions. I would rather say they are very vital, if that word did not seem somewhat overworked. But as it lies in my mind, or rather as it seems to me in the whole of me, any religion that is good for a man must be mentally straight and right. What is that word about loving God with all your mind? Well, it seems to me that if we are to love him with our minds, he must be the kind of God who can be loved without violating or sacrificing or crucifying a man's thinking powers. O, I do not insist that there shall be no mysteries or perplexities in religion, but I do 28 insist that there must not be any rank and gross absurdities and contradictions in it. Faith must not be equivalent to folly, nor must it mean believing the things a man knows are not true. A religious man need not be a great or profound thinker, but his religion must not destroy, but must, rather, save his fundamental mental processes and powers. Even a revelation must be rational and not irrational. Here again the life of Jesus is exceedingly luminous. He did not set aside his mind nor destroy it in order to be devout and believing. I do not raise here the question of freedom to think, but only the question of straight thinking.

"So, also, it seems to me a religion ought to be good for a man's morals and satisfy his conscience. Some of the so-called religious 29 teachings, and much of the religious practice of the world, have been pretty bad morally. An awakened and enlightened conscience has some rights. Even in the name of religion a man must not be commanded or even permitted to do wrong. Who was it that said that life is three fourths conduct'? Matthew Arnold, I think. Well, whatever part of it is conduct must be right conduct, and religion must go all the time that way. This seems utterly commonplace, and I would not be saying it if there had not arisen in recent years, and had not existed for many years, more than one religion intellectually absurd and morally wrong. If religion goes astray with reference to true conscience and normal brains, it will not do for men.

"And it must have regard for a 30 man's heart. Some of the gods, both of theology and mythology, have been altogether unlovely and unlovable. Commandments to love a god are of no use if the god is a tyrant or a monster. Such a god can just issue all the commandments he pleases and men will simply laugh at him, despise him, and hate him, as they ought. Love is about the best thing in the world and belongs in a man's religion. It is not easy to love a list of attributes nor an impersonal deity. But one is never surprised at Jesus Christ's love for God. He knew God as a lovely and lovable Person. He did not have to stultify his intellect, nor violate his conscience, nor suppress his affections because of his God. It seems to me that one of the real tasks of religious teachers is to show to men how lovable the God of Jesus Christ 3i is. As a religious man I must be on friendly terms with my God and my brethren. I cannot make friends with certain kinds of people very easily, and with certain kinds of gods it is wholly impossible.

"Now this, and much more, is about what I think about religion. Everything is embraced in this."

So spoke my wise and thoughtful friend. Whether I can get him to speak any further I cannot say, but he certainly has indicated the way we must go in our further correspondence. It will be worth our while to master the religion which Jesus Christ practiced. Nothing else at present looks as good as this. He is certainly the best Man who has ever lived. His religion looks like the best religion for a man. Anyhow, I think it will appear so as we go on. Ever yours, W. F. M.

LETTER III A Man's Religious Beliefs

Dear Brethren: The time was when this would have been the chief subject of such letters as these. If I had been writing to you in the creed-making ages, the supreme emphasis would have been on this phase of religion. And our discussion would have been regarded as wholly incomplete if it failed to lay down a fairly full and comprehensive system of beliefs. It has been rather customary to identify beliefs with creeds, faith with dogma, and religion with theology. Much of the modern reaction against creeds, dogmas, and theology is due to this confusion.

Now, we are proceeding in our correspondence on the theory that 33 religion is a personal matter. In thinking of ourselves as men, you remember, we decided that we are persons of beliefs, opinions, affections, tempers, dispositions, activities, worship, relations, ideals, and hopes. And we are anxious to find a way of life as thus constituted, a way by which life can be developed and maintained with ever enlarging power, growing beauty, and increasing perfection. Our search is never for a creed or a program, but always for a way of life, and we test creeds and programs by their relation to this larger and better thing. We desire right beliefs as a way to right lives. We would like to find the truth, not because we are philosophers or scientists, but because we are men. We have vastly more than an academic interest in truth. And, by the same token, we have much more than a theologian's interest in religious beliefs, or creeds, or faith. These are, with us, not matters of speculation, but of personal life or death. If a theologian goes wrong in making up his system, he is a heretic and may be tried for heresy; but if a man goes wrong in his faith, he misses the way of life, and missing that is absolutely fatal to a man.

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