[The introductory page of the MS., which is
lost, doubtless contained a reference to a division into Inorganic or First
Kingdom, Organic or Second, and Spiritual or
Third.]
I MAY
be permitted to summarize briefly the teaching of the Sacred Books on the
central subject of the Kingdom of God, and to point it, as occasion may offer,
with reference to the present inquiry.
That God was preparing out of the Second
Kingdom a people for Himself is the most prominent fact of ancient history. For
centuries the children of Israel were so impressed with this belief that they
dared not, like other nations, permit themselves even to own an earthly king.
With Jehovah to defend their case, with the King of kings to define and carry
out their cause, generation after generation held out against the temptation to
create a human monarchy, and handed down unsoiled to the late age of the
Captivity their theocratic faith. "The dominating thought of the Old Testament,"
to quote the words of Keim, "is that of the Kingdom of God upon earth. God is
the God, the Lord, the King of the whole earth; but from among all the nations
He has chosen Israel to be His peculiar possession, His servants, His people,
His firstborn, His priestly kingdom. God is Israel's King, and rules as King.
God fulfils His regal office by spiritually and physically bringing the nation
into existence; by protecting, regulating, and guiding it with His blessings and
His chastisements. He does all this, sometimes by His immediate presence, and
sometimes through the agency of His inspired organs--lawgivers and generals,
priests and prophets, and finally kings, who, in fact, are only viceroys. This
kingdom has, however, its limits; the nations without do not obey, they make
attacks upon the people of God, and the people of God sin against themselves and
against their King."
How a thousand years
before the birth of Christ the longing rose for the Kingdom of God in a more
perfect form, for a Kingdom that should conquer and rule the nations and
establish righteousness and peace on earth; how, fostered by the startling
assurances of Daniel, the desire was kept alive through ages of oppression, and
burned only the more clearly after prolonged disappointment; how centuries after
the voice of prophecy was silent in their land, when the Forerunner raised his
standard in the wilderness, the old hope, deeper still in their hearts than any
thought of God or man, uttered itself again in an almost national response to
the Baptist's message--these points have but to be named to convince us of the
thrilling reality of the Kingdom of God to the ancient Jewish
Church.
To point out the development of the
conception as we come down to New Testament times is all but superfluous. At the
double risk of appearing to the world as an imitator of John, and to the Roman
as sharing with the Baptist the responsibilities of political revolution, Jesus
accepted the watchword of the hour and deliberately announced Himself as the
King of the promised Kingdom. How He gathered about Him the first few subjects,
and in the face of laughter and blasphemy assumed the Sovereignty of the
miniature State, framing a Constitution for it as far-reaching and profound as
if it were already a great nation, is a plain fact of history. And as one
follows His life throughout, it is patent to the most casual reader of the
Gospel narratives that His one idea was to found on earth the Kingdom of Heaven.
In Matthew alone the expressions "Kingdom of Heaven" and "Kingdom of God" occur
forty-five times; and generally the theme seems never to have been absent for a
single hour from the thoughts of Jesus during His earthly ministry. "In the
contemplation of the doctrine of the Lord," says Van Oosterzee, "according to
the Synoptics, we must proceed from the foundation-thought by which, above all
others, it is ruled. It is that of the Kingdom of God." So Reuss, "L'idee
fondamentale, qui se reproduit a chaque instant dans l'enseignement de Jesus,
est celle du royaume de Dieu."
Were an
evolutionist asked to formulate the fundamental idea of nature, he would reply,
in the light of all modern philosophy and science, The idea of the
Kingdom. All nature, he would say, is gravitating towards a nobler order of
things. The vision of the past presents man with a grand and harmonious picture
of the Ascent of Life. Kingdom is seen to be rising above kingdom. And yet
withal the apex of the pyramid is still concealed. The perfect is not yet come.
The whole creation groaneth and travaileth, waiting for the redemption of the
creature. Scarce less audible is the prophecy of nature than the voice of Old
Testament Scripture as to the coming of the world's Redeemer. And Science, like
the Forerunner of the Messiah, has prepared the way of the Lord.
What is the ultimate purpose of God in the
further evolution of man can only be dimly discerned. With words, it is true, we
can fill in logically the framework; of the future; but to the imagination,
beyond a certain point, these words become colourless symbols of a reality which
man in this life can never grasp. Still it is not denied us to see a little way
into the Third Kingdom, and we may attempt at least a provisional answer to this
question, What does the Kingdom of God propose to do for
mankind?
The form of the question which chiefly
interests us in the present inquiry is, Does the Kingdom of God propose to do
anything abnormal, extravagant, or unintelligible? Is it a new and unrelated
effect that is to be wrought on the subjects of this Kingdom, or is it something
still consistently in line with continuity? Certainly if it could be shown that
the aim of the Third Kingdom was in harmony with all that has gone before, it
would go a long way to remove any prejudice that may exist against it on the
ground of what men call its unnaturalness and
"other-worldliness."
The simplest method of
testing the naturalness of the object of the Third Kingdom is to refer to the
aim of the Second. What is it that serious men propose to themselves as the
object of life? Is there not something that all have willed to achieve--a
summum bonum--a chief end of man? These, for ages, have been the
questions of philosophy. The greatest and wisest among mankind have studied this
problem. And it would be idle to deny that their labours have achieved at least
a general result. Without referring to any of the specific plans of life
proposed by different schools, it will sufficiently summarize the conclusion of
all to say that the highest aims of mankind are connected with the moral
development of the race. Whatever methods various philosophies have pointed out
in order to attain this end, and whatever shades of difference exist as to the
end itself, there is no debate as to this general result. There is no question
likewise, and this is an important consideration, that the ideal of philosophy
has never yet been reached. With greater or less hope some philosophic schools
still expect a future success to justify the principles they teach; others found
wanting after fair trial have already withdrawn from the field. Still a
unanimous consensus among men that the highest development of the race is the
summum bonum is a fact too significant to be ignored. And any new
applicant for favour might be expected beforehand to enter the field with this
same general aim in spite of the warnings of those who have failed. Any other
aim would be unnatural.
Now as a matter of fact
the aim of Christianity, in its general direction, is the aim of all philosophy.
Christianity fell naturally into the stream of evolution which was carrying the
world through kingdom after kingdom to a high and perfect development. Its idea
of development was immeasurably loftier than that of philosophy, and the means
for carrying out the process were altogether different; but the goal in either
case, though not the same, lay in the same general line. I have defined the aim
of philosophy to be the moral development of the race. When it is said, however,
that this is also the aim of Christianity we must attach a higher significance
to the term moral. Morality is a word of the Second Kingdom. In the Third we
look for its evolution. We shall still recognise the old quality, but it will
really exist in a form so greatly developed that we may be justified in
substituting for morality the word spirituality. At the same time it must
again be repeated that the development of the spiritual from the natural man is
not a case of simple evolution. The natural character does not simply grow
better and better until a pitch of excellence is reached such as finally
deserves the distinguishing name of spirituality. Spirituality and morality
differ qualitatively as well as quantitatively. The natural development can
never pass the barrier separating the Second from the Third Kingdom. The
transition is secured, just as in the case of atoms passing from the First to
the Second Kingdom, by means of something not inherent in the lower Kingdom but
communicated ab extra.
But while giving
the fullest prominence to this cardinal fact that the spiritual is not a mere
natural development of the natural, it is no less necessary to point out,
although at first sight it seems a paradox, that the spiritual character is
still a development of the natural. The first object of the Third Kingdom
cannot, without misconception, be said to be the creating merely of a spiritual
character. Its first work is to make what would be called a perfect natural
character. It does not leave the Second Kingdom in a raw, unfinished state, and,
regardless of the natural man, proceed to start afresh with a new set of
organisms developing under a new regime. Its first business is to
complete the old. It takes up a human life at the point where the natural world
has left it and carries it on to perfection. There is, it is true, a new
creature born within the natural man. And in this sense there is a new creation
and a new departure. But the first work of the new nature is to operate on the
old and do for it what it failed to do for itself. Thus the aim of the spiritual
Kingdom in the first instance is to perfect the natural. The first object of
Christianity is to make men. So far from being a dehumanizing process, it alone
creates the true humanity. For the Third Kingdom alone possesses the true ideal,
and alone contains the energies effectually to overpower those forces of sin
which prevent men from ever becoming men.
I
purposely refrain from making more than the most meagre allusion to the aims of
the spiritual world, for the subject does not come directly within the
biological province. Words at all times fail, however, to express the
magnificence of the scheme of Christianity. For the past its provision is so
complete, for the present so wonderful, for the future so glorious that the more
one exercises his mind upon the religion of Jesus Christ the more is he
impressed with its wisdom, magnificence, and thorough practical adaptation to
every need and wish of man. The whole conception of the Redemption of the world.
the amazing series of events projected in order to it, the possibility opened to
man of a pure life and a disinterested deed, the promise of having all the
haunting problems of life and time, all the soul's deep difficulties concerning
the universe and the eternal finally solved--these alone mark out the Third
Kingdom as a creation of the Most High. Nothing could be more exquisite than the
programme of Christianity penned by Isaiah centuries before the Founder of the
Kingdom was born in Bethlehem. One would
come
"To preach
good tidings to the meek;
To bind up the broken-hearted;
To proclaim
liberty to the captives;
To comfort all that mourn;
To give unto them
beauty for ashes,
The oil of joy for mourning,
The garment of praise for
the spirit of heaviness;
That they might be called trees of righteousness,
the planting of the Lord,
That He might be
glorified."
Side by side with these words
let him who would rate the claims of the Third Kingdom on his
acceptance--unobtrusive claims which have always depended most on a mute appeal
to their inherent dignity and grace--read the Sermon on the Mount. And if he
would understand the aspirations of the Kingdom he will find the seven deepest
thoughts of his own heart at its purest moments reflected in the seven petitions
of the Lord's Prayer.
If that programme is not
a satire on the gospels of humanity, if these Beatitudes are not a fiction, if
the Lord's Prayer is not the expression of a need that is rarely felt and never
gratified, they have a claim upon mankind more vitally real than anything else
in the world. If there be a Kingdom of God, that programme, that Sermon and that
Prayer are worthy of it. And if they be but a dream, I know not how we shall
account for such a dream.
While the design of
the Third Kingdom coincides somewhat with the purpose of Moral Philosophy, its
apparatus and methods are widely different. And they are different mainly in
respect of two things already mentioned. Christianity provides an ideal which is
the highest possible, and equips the subjects of the Kingdom with powers in
every way adequate to realize that ideal. The problems connected with the ideal
will be referred to again, but the question of the powers of the spiritual
Kingdom may now be dealt with under a separate head.
The fundamental difference between the
Second and Third Kingdoms consists in what, for want of a better name, may be
called their Energies. The difference of phenomena entirely depends on this--the
difference, for example, between morality and spirituality. Philosophy may
easily borrow the ideal from Christianity; to some extent it may attempt to
introduce its motive, but it utterly breaks down in the practical application.
And it fails for want of the one thing which finally differentiates the Third
Kingdom from the Second--Life. Discussing Christianity on the philosophical
plane in a chapter of singular insight and beauty, "Ecce Homo," while insisting
upon the difference between Christianity and Moral Philosophy, fails withal, as
it seems to me, to recognise the infinite and radical distinction between them,
owing to a disregard of this unique quality of Life. "Philosophers had drawn
their pupils from the elite of humanity; but Christ finds His material
among the worst and meanest, for He does not propose merely to make the good
better, but the bad good. And what is His machinery? He says the first step
towards good dispositions is for a man to form a strong personal attachment. Let
him first be drawn out of himself. Next, let the object of that attachment be a
person of striking and conspicuous goodness. To worship such a person will be
the best exercise in virtue that he can have. Let him vow obedience in life and
death to such a person; let him mix and live with others who have made the same
vow. He will have ever before his eyes an ideal of what he may himself become.
His heart will be stirred by new feelings, a new world will be gradually
revealed to him, and, more than this, a new self within his old self will make
its presence felt, and a change will pass over him which he will feel it most
appropriate to call a new birth." The fatal objection to this scheme is that it
begins at the wrong end. Certain changes pass over a man's character; he forms a
personal attachment, worships his ideal, learns obedience, and all this he will
"feel it most appropriate" to call a new birth. Why not begin with the new
birth? Why be guilty, even in appearance, of the scientific heresy of making
Life the result of organization instead of the cause of it? The language used
certainly lends itself at least to the supposition that the expression "new
birth" is merely a metaphor--an "appropriate" term for the act after the result
has appeared. And the criticism of "Ecce Homo" on Christianity in this respect
is not exceptional, but representative. The Kingdom of Heaven is simply the
"Society of Jesus," or "a religious-moral institution" (Van Oosterzee), or "a
filial relation to God" (Hausrath).
Now, the
Kingdom of God is all this, but it is also a great deal more. From the
philosophical standpoint no definitions, probably, could be more exact; none
other even are possible. But there has been a universal failure to regard the
whole subject, in the first instance, as a question of Biology. Even those
theologies which have recognised most clearly the special factor of Life in
Christianity have still felt themselves insensibly drawn to discuss the question
ultimately in terms of philosophy. That it is susceptible of philosophic
treatment is abundantly plain; but it cannot with too much emphasis be pointed
out that, alike from the analogies of nature and from the explicit declarations
of its Founder, the Third Kingdom must be treated primarily as a biological
question. Christ affirmed that His first object in coming to men was to give
them Life--more abundant Life. And that He meant literal Life, literal spiritual
Life, is clear from the whole course of His teaching and acting. To impose a
metaphorical meaning on the commonest word of the New Testament is to violate
every canon of interpretation, and at the same time to charge the greatest of
Teachers with persistently mystifying His hearers by an unusual use of so exact
a vehicle for expressing definite thought as the Greek language, on the most
momentous subject of which He ever spoke--a subject, indeed, of life or death to
all whom He addressed. It is a canon of interpretation, says Alford, that "a
figurative sense of words is never admissible except when required by the
context." The context in most cases is not only directly unfavourable to the
figurative meaning, but in innumerable cases Life is broadly contrasted with
Death. In others, as in the discourse with Nicodemus, the language used makes it
inconceivable that there, at least, the symbolical meaning is implied. "Ye must
be born again," said Jesus to the Rabbi. And that the words were taken literally
is apparent from the answer: "How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter
a second time into his mother's womb and be born?" While undeceiving His pupil
as to the acceptance of the term Life in its natural organic sense, Christ
continues to insist withal that it is nevertheless Life--a deeper and spiritual
Life, a Life mysteriously entering into the soul as by a breath from God.
"Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the
Kingdom of God. . . . That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which
is born of the spirit is spirit."
To pass from
Christ's words to the teaching of the Apostles, we find that without exception
they have accepted the term in its simple, literal sense. Reuss defines the
Apostolic belief, as is his wont, with rigid impartiality when he discovers in
the Apostles' conception of Life, first, "the idea of a real existence, an
existence such as is proper to God and to the word; an imperishable
existence--that is to say, not subject to the vicissitudes and imperfections of
the finite world. This primary idea is repeatedly expressed, at least in a
negative form; it leads to a doctrine of immortality, or, to speak more
correctly, of life, far surpassing any that had been expressed in the formulas
of the current philosophy or theology, and resting upon premises and conceptions
altogether different. In fact, it can dispense both with the philosophical
thesis of the immateriality or indestructibility of the human soul, and with the
theological thesis of a miraculous corporeal reconstruction of our person:
theses, the first of which is altogether foreign to the religion of the Bible,
and the second absolutely opposed to reason" Second, "the idea of life, as it is
conceived in this system, implies the idea of a power, an operation, a
communication, since this life no longer remains, so to speak, latent or passive
in God and in the Word, but through them reaches the believer. It is not a
neutral, somnolent thing; it is not a plant without fruit; it is a germ which is
to find fullest development."
The sum of New
Testament doctrine is that there is an immediate action of the Spirit of God on
the souls of men. In the New Testament alone the Spirit is referred to nearly
three hundred times. And the one word with which He is constantly associated is
Power. If we are asked to define more clearly what is meant by this Power we
hand over the difficulty to science. When science can define Life and Force we
may hope for further clearness on the nature and action of the Spiritual Powers.
At the same time we are forewarned that with our present faculties we can never
pass far beyond the threshold of these hidden things. Their very power of
evading the senses is the mysterious token of their spirituality. It is the test
of the Spirit that thou canst not tell whence it cometh or whither it goeth. If
we could tell, if we could trace it naturally to its source, if we could account
for its operations on ordinary principles, if we could define regeneration as
the effect of moral persuasion, we should be dealing not with the Unknown but
with the Known. It is from the analysis of natural religion, where the elements
can all be rationally accounted for, that men derive their chief argument
against the supernatural. But in analyzing spirituality the effort to detect the
Living Spirit is as idle as to subject protoplasm to microscopic examination in
the hope of discovering Life. When the Spiritual Life is discovered in the
laboratory it will be time to give it up altogether. It may then say, as
Socrates of his soul, "You can bury me--if you can catch
me."
While the Powers of the Third Kingdom
evade analysis their Energy is not less real. The activities of the Third Person
of the Trinity have always been described as dynamical. The Spirit is the
executive of the Godhead, carrying out the sovereign Will by operations as
irresistible as they are subtle. To this omnipotent agency are to be referred
ultimately all changes which take place within the Kingdom of God on earth. This
is the Source of Energy for the Third Kingdom. And long before the days of
Dynamics, when the energies of the Second Kingdom were less understood than now
are those of the Third, the schoolmen were wont to express their conception of
the Divine Activity in Nature and in Grace by the actual use of the word
physical.13 Owen also in his classical work on the Holy Spirit
repeatedly affirms the physical nature of the Spirit's operations, especially in
the process of regeneration: "There is a real physical work, whereby He infuseth
a gracious principle of spiritual life into all that are effectually converted
and really regenerated, and without which there is no deliverance from the state
of sin and death."
Without agitating the
time-honoured questions as to whether this Spiritual Power is mediate or
immediate, whether it is resistible or irresistible, whether Spiritual Life is
to be considered as part of it, or as the whole, or as none of it; without
raising problems suggested by current scientific thought--as to whether there
are any analogies between these and the ordinary energies of nature; whether,
for instance, they are capable of Transformation, Conservation, or
Dissipation--we may rather go on to inquire for the evidence of the spiritual
operations themselves and for the results which ought to have followed. It will
assist us, however, in understanding the evidence, as well as in defining the
kind of result to be looked for, if we take one more backward glance at the two
earlier Kingdoms. Suppose we take our stand for a moment on the confines of the
Inorganic Kingdom. What order of phenomena will strike us first? Shall we see
the Second Kingdom act on the First, and if so, in what particular
way?
As we take our first survey of the
Inorganic Kingdom we seem to be surrounded by the dead. Every Atom obeys the law
of inertia, or yields to simple changes induced by polar, molecular, or other
forces. But presently, into this dead world, an unknown Power descends, feels
about, seizes certain Atoms, and manipulates them in unprecedented ways. This
mysterious Power is the Power of the Kingdom next in order above. To that
Kingdom, indeed, the operations of Life, as facts of everyday occurrence, are
not mysterious. But to the Atoms they are unintelligible and very wonderful.
Here is one Atom raised from the dead. Here is another refusing to bend its will
to the attraction of gravity A third, subject to crystalline forces from the
beginning, suddenly defies them and takes its place as a part of the higher
symmetry of a living organism. As their Fellow-Atoms observe these extraordinary
changes, from time to time occurring around them, they have only one word which
adequately describes them--they are
Miracles.
Taking our stand now on the
confines of the Organic, shall we not be presented with the same strange
spectacle? Once more we are surrounded by the dead. Once more a Power descends
out of another Kingdom--a Kingdom just in order above--and manipulates Organisms
in unprecedented ways. Here is one Organism raised from the dead. Here is
another refusing to bend its will to the attraction of sin. A third, subject to
deforming forces from the beginning, suddenly defies them, and assumes a high
and noble spiritual symmetry. And as their Fellow-Organisms observe these
changes, their word again is
Miracle.
This, then, is what meets us
first at the portals of the Third Kingdom--Miracle. We find an order of
phenomena strange and inexplicable to the lower Kingdom, but as normal within
its own sphere as are the operations of Life in the Organic. As the powers of
the Second Kingdom master the First, so the powers of the Third master the
Second. But this is not what is usually called Miracle. Miracle is a much
narrower thing--so very narrow a thing that up to this point we have scarcely
even come in sight of it. To single out a few specific wonders authenticated by
ancient documents, and to attach to them the epithet Miracle, is a limitation so
monstrous and unwarranted that the protest against it cannot come too
soon.
The question of the miraculous is simply
the general question of the Third Kingdom. To apply the word to certain acts of
healing, to beneficent deeds of an abnormal character, or to deliverance from
physical danger, want, or death, is to contemplate the reactions of the
Spiritual Kingdom only on the lowest plane of the Organic and Inorganic Worlds.
The outstanding miracles, on the contrary, are those effected on the moral and
intellectual portions of the highest department of the Organic Kingdom--namely,
on the life and character of the Natural Man. The attestation of Christianity is
the Christian. Without taking this into account the supernatural changes wrought
on the lower department are mere wizard-work. Miracle, from the standpoint of
the Second Kingdom, is not alone objectionable as pure prodigy, but it amounts
to an absolute breach of Continuity. The sceptical definitions of miracle from
this standpoint are perfectly legitimate. Hume is loyal to nature when he
affirms that "A miracle is a violation of the laws of nature; and, as a firm and
unalterable experience has established these laws, the proof against a miracle,
from the very nature of the fact, is as entire as any argument from experience
that can possibly be imagined." Deliberately choosing the standpoint of the
Second Kingdom, and absolutely rejecting the Third, Hume had no alternative. In
his experience of the laws of nature, no variation ever occurred in the usual
course of antecedent and consequent. Thus the question of miracle comes to
this--there is either delusion, fraud, or a Third Kingdom; and if one rejects
the last, his choice between the two former is
immaterial.
If, on the other hand, one accepts
the Third Kingdom, the miraculous becomes not only credible but necessary The
Third Kingdom would not be the Third Kingdom if it could not operate on the
Kingdom beneath it in a way which to the Kingdoms below would seem miraculous.
The Second Kingdom is the Second Kingdom because it can operate on the First in
a way which to the First must seem miraculous. It is superior to the First in
virtue of the superiority of its powers and the corresponding complexity of its
organisms. In precisely the same way the Third rises superior to the
Second.
It is of much consequence to notice
that it is not alone the forms of organisms which are found evolving in nature,
but the powers or energies. There is a dynamical as well as a statical
evolution. The First Kingdom is equipped with a certain set of powers, or
possibly with one central energy capable of assuming varied forms. The Second,
while inheriting all this plenishing of the Inorganic Earth, brings upon the
scene the new and commanding powers of Life. But the powers of Life, however
derived, however directed, are still feeble. The Organic is not always master.
And it is not until the Higher Evolution is attained that the complement
appears. Then the dominion is complete; that which is perfect is come; and both
the First and Second Kingdoms are reigned over by the Third. Were there no
domination of the Second by the Third, there had been no Third. And hence the
naturalness of our Lord's appeal to miracle as the sign to the Second of the
existence of the Third. If a plant wished to convince a mineral of the reality
of the powers of the vegetable Kingdom--acting in the direction, let us say, of
causing matter to rise in the air during the plant's growth in defiance of
gravity--it would naturally point to specific cases where these powers had been
exercised. The effect in the first instance upon the mineral would be to tempt
it to reject the fact as contrary to experience, but as the evidence accumulated
both in quantity and quality the doubt must gradually dissolve. A mineral,
subject no longer to the inorganic forces which otherwise reign supreme
throughout the Kingdom, bearing practical testimony to the reality and
superiority of extra-inorganic powers, would certainly be a phenomenon of
transcendent scientific significance. Attention would be gradually drawn to the
possibility of the existence of a higher world, and as the facts were seen to be
repeated, and as from different quarters evidence accumulated, all doubt upon
the subject must gradually dissolve. But if, instead of fixing attention upon an
isolated case here and there, one runs his eye over the boundary line dividing
the Inorganic from the Organic, and finds the whole frontier abounding in
similar activities, like the seaward margin of a coral reef fringed with the
living polypes, he receives a new impression of their character and relations.
He sees that these marvellous reactions are at that point no longer the
exception but the rule. Miracle, in short, is the normal frontier
phenomenon. Along the line of junction, again, between the Natural and the
Spiritual a similar set of activities are carrying on their ceaseless work.
Contemplated from the bottom of the Second Kingdom, where on an isolated group
here and there these activities are operating on grosser material, the phenomena
are exceptional, unintelligible, and miraculous. But on the frontier they are
the normal actions of the Third Kingdom on the Second, demanded by Continuity,
justified in the magnitude and gathering potency of their operations by
Evolution and susceptible of the same kind of
proof.
That they are so little observed in the
higher reaches is due to a peculiar law of their being. The Kingdom cometh
without observation. But this is not true alone for the Kingdom of God. With
infinite gentleness the Second Kingdom throws over the First its mysterious
spell. With infinite delicacy its tentacles feel among the all but invisible
atoms and build them up into higher forms, by unperceived and silent processes
carrying on their growth. All the forces of the Inorganic world even are secret,
silent forces. Gravity, the most ponderous of all, came down the ages with a
step so noiseless that the world was old before an ear was quick enough to
detect its footfall. And the Spiritual forces which carry on the processes to
the further stage, re-creating the visible, acting through more and more
attenuated forms of matter, become themselves more ethereal, the law in fact
being that the various forces decrease in grossness as they increase in
power.
But in the first days of Christianity
the invisibility of its forces formed a drawback to its development. If not
essential, it was at least advisable that the outside world should become at
once aware of its pretensions. And if the secret operations of the Spirit in
regenerating men were then insufficient to attract attention, it became
necessary for the manifestation to descend to what some might call a lower
plane. The Spiritual, having power over the whole range of the Organic and
Inorganic, might fitly exert an influence in a region where the miracle might be
palpable, startling and unmistakable. It might be urged indeed that Virtue could
not but go out of Jesus at whatever point He touched life; but at the same time
this lower miracle was not due to the inadvertent overflow of a full vessel, but
designed to strike men who could not rise to the perception of loftier
manifestations. The number of occasions on which He made this concession, always
of course with the higher purpose directly in view and apparent in the immediate
result, was probably very much larger than the limited information we possess
might lead us to suspect. The Evangelists hint that these interpolations of the
Higher Powers, these suspensions of the ordinary course of nature in obedience
to a higher law, occurred with great frequency. And although it is proper to
notice the striking and suggestive fact of the extreme conservation of this
power in the life-work of Jesus, it is equally necessary to bear in mind that He
continually did works which no other man did, and periodically appealed to these
as a ground why the members of the Natural Kingdom should accept the
Spiritual.
But there could be no greater
mistake than to perpetuate the appeal to this rudimentary form of miracle as the
continued attestation of Christianity. If miracle ceased with the first century,
our faith, to a large extent, ceases with it, or at least most seriously
suffers. What we have to point to now for the credentials of Christianity is not
a first series of miracles but the series itself--the series which extends down
to the present hour. To ignore this is to put ourselves in a position where
belief has everything against it, human testimony notwithstanding. But if we
begin with the phenomena which we see around us, or can see if we will, and
argue backwards, step by step, coming slowly down to the time when the Miracle
Himself was upon the stage, we reach a point where signs and wonders really
appear to us as the inevitable. The denial of miracles accordingly, in the
ordinary sense, is not the evidence of superior wisdom, but mainly of defective
observation. Unless gravity had continued to act during the last two centuries
we should, perhaps, have been justified in saying that Newton was mistaken when
he saw the apple fall to the ground. How could such a thing happen? Is Newton to
contradict "the universal experience of mankind"? Is his testimony to be
accepted rather than that of Herschel or Faraday, who never saw such a thing
happen? Is not such a violation of the laws of nature altogether incredible and
inconceivable, even although the whole of Woolsthorpe were looking over the
orchard wall when the apple fell?
Now, if
Christianity ceased to act with the first century, I do not see that we can
argue for the miraculous. Unless we include the Third Kingdom in our conception
a miracle is certainly a violation of the laws of nature. And if the Third
Kingdom has passed away miracles may be interesting, but their occupation is
gone--there is nothing for them to attest to me. On the other hand, if the
Powers of the Third Kingdom are working around me now I am independent of them.
I have the superior credential of the "greater works" which Christ's disciples
were to do in His name.
But I have said the
denial of miracles is due mainly to defective observation--mainly, however, not
wholly. The members of the Third Kingdom have something to answer for themselves
here. They have failed to provide due materials for observation. Energy may be
potential as well as kinetic. Were a visitant from a distant planet who had read
"The Correlation of the Physical Forces" or Ganot's "Physics" to land on the
coast of Labrador and demand of the Esquimaux to be shown the energies of
electricity or the powers of steam, his credulity in his authorities would
certainly be shaken. And even if he were informed by a passing Nordenskiold that
many of the physical forces were available at Labrador, only the people had
never utilized them, his bewilderment would not be lessened. Those who read the
Christian's Book hear in like manner of faith to remove mountains, of love
stronger than death, of limitless powers to be had for the asking of all the
fulness of the Godhead placed at man's disposal. And when they turn to those who
know this Book, who profess to believe it, who contribute themselves to the
literature of the Third Kingdom, expanding and enforcing its ideas, and almost
forcing them on men's attention, what do they see? Is it any satisfaction that a
courteous Nordenskiold assures them that these forces are there withal, only the
members of this frigid province at the moment do not happen to employ them? For
does not the critic see multitudes of individuals met every week for the
ostensible purpose of receiving these powers, down on their knees by the
thousand crying for them to come? What is he to make of it? Is he dreaming or
they? Or does the Kingdom come--but without observation? No; the Kingdom does
not come. On the large scale it does not come. The splendid machinery of
Christianity is standing still. The Church is paralyzed. When the Second Kingdom
asks the Third for its credentials it remains silent. It has something to show
in the past; it points sadly to the early centuries. But for the present nothing
stirs; it is all as frozen as Labrador.
So men
tell us the spiritual energies are a myth--which is as inconclusive as the
statement that the physical forces are myths where they are not utilized. The
scepticism of the age nevertheless lies at the door of the Church. That there
are individuals, and here and there churches, witnessing to the powers of the
Third Kingdom is not to be gainsaid. No man who really desires to satisfy
himself of the reality of the Spiritual World will seek in vain for a
demonstration of the Spirit and of Power. But the appeal is not going forth to
all the earth and arresting men by a testimony triumphant and irresistible. The
Power that operated at Pentecost is no longer a mighty and awakening force. And
even the ethical light which the subjects of the Third Kingdom were admonished
to "let shine among men" is all but too dim to
see.
Now, whatever may be the state of matters
at present within the Visible Church of the Third Kingdom, let us not blind
ourselves to the unspeakably important fact that the Spiritual World contains
forms of energy infinitely more powerful than those of the First and Second. It
has never been sufficiently realized how much greater they are--how much greater
they must be, even from analogy. One might almost speak of an Evolution of
Energy going on as we rise from higher to higher Kingdoms. By this, of course,
is not meant that the higher energy is in any sense evolved from the lower, but
that the potency--whatever may be the source of the increment--is found
gradually becoming stronger and stronger. As a matter of fact, while the energy
within each Kingdom is constant, the organic powers are greater than the
inorganic, the Spiritual than either. And the one thing requisite at once for
the attestation of the Third Kingdom and the further evolution of the Second is
that the subjects of the former should give heed once more to the offer of its
King and Founder, "If ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your
children, much more will your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that
ask it."