CONGREGATIONAL UNION

THE ANNUAL MEETING.

ADDRESS OF THE PRESIDENT.

. . . .Have we here one explanation, not only of the depletion of Christian congregations, but also of that diminishing Church-membership, which is matter of such grave concern to ministers and leaders in almost every denomination to-day. . . . But even so, if denominational statistics are to be relied upon, there is still before us not only the fact of a diminishing Church roll, but also the fact—perhaps a still graver one that the power and influence of the Church over the great mass of men are less than they were. . . . And I suggest that we touch one cause when we name the timidity of which I speak. Men do not believe in the Church because, as it seems to them, she does not very confidently believe in herself—in the supremacy of her Lord, the validity, of her mission, the power of her message to redeem the race.

RATIONALISM.

1. One occasion of this prevailing anxiety in the mind of the Church is the boastful aggression of the Propaganda of some anti-Christian, and some anti-religious systems which are being strenuously advocated to-day, and which are commanding more or less numerous and influential followings. They are carrying the battle to the gate of the Christian citadel, and subjecting it to such a heavy bombardment that, were it not enclosed by the Divine care and girt with the Divine power, it must surely be brought to pitiful and hopeless wreck and ruin.. (a) Prominent—perhaps chief—among these antagonistic systems is rationalism. One cannot even begin the attempt to outline its features. It claims to have finally disposed of what its advocates call "the theistic theory" of the world, and to have established for ever "the pantheistic truth of the law of substance." That law of substance is made to account for all natural phenomena: "the world exists," we are gravely informed, "in virtue of its own inherent forces." It denies any original and supreme intelligence, and directing will. "The maxim of the pantheist, "God and the world are one," quotes one of its champions with shameful effrontery "is merely a polite way of giving the Lord God His conge." Now, whilst we are sure within ourselves of the invalidity of the premises of Rationalism, and therefore of its conclusions so far as they bear upon Christian faith, we may not shut our eyes to the fact that it is a force to be reckoned with. For though it bears a resemblance to the older atheism, so close that the superficial observer is not able to make out much difference, it has not for its leading advocates blatant and voluble orators who could stoop to the use of scurrilous phrase, and who were not above darkening counsel and hiding knowledge (though it is hardly possible to relieve the great Haeckel of this charge); but it has men of intellectual strength and greatness: hard thinkers and profound students in the realm of biology and of nature generally, men who are accredited leaders of scientific investigation, and who can even express sorrow that their conclusions, so far as they are personally concerned, are fatal to Christian faith. The consequences to many minds must be very serious when such men announce that the system they have established "proclaims the absolute dominion of 'the great eternal iron laws' throughout the universe," and that "it shatters, at the same time, the three central dogmas of the dualistic philosophy—the personalty of God, the immortality of the soul, and the freedom of the will." The words are Haeckel's. It is no part of my task this evening to attempt the disproof of these statements, but one must needs point out that in touching questions, of Christian philosophy and theology Haeckel ventured upon fields to him unknown; further, that, as distinguished Christian scholars have made perfectly clear, these great facts have not been "shattered," not even bruised, by his "monistic philosophy;" the truth being that these truths, by the most illegitimate and illogical method, were deliberately pushed aside, because found to be fatal to the symmetry of his system. And, moreover, he, in common with all who stand for a purely rationalistic interpretation of the universe, begins his system with "a tremendous assumption," which leaves unexplained that which above all calls for explanation. Principal Fairbairn points out that Darwin asked "to be, allowed to assume a first or a few forms in order that he might show how the earth, as it pursued its silent way through space was tenanted with living beings and became the arena of all their works," which meant that "he wanted to start from an unexplained. Something, a mystery, a miracle—originated life, though how and why it had originated, what cause adequate to its production was lying behind, he did not know, and did not presume to inquire." It may not be difficult to frame a theory of evolution, or to trace the progress of evolution, when so much is granted. But we are reminded that things that are evolved were first involved, and the harder question of how things came to be involved is the question Rationalists consistently ignore.

It will be right to say, further, that many Christian scientific men—Sir Oliver Lodge amongst them—whose researches are quite as profound, and whose judgments far more trustworthy, than Haeckel's, and who thoroughly understand his position, find themselves, not only able, but honestly obliged, to accept what Rationalism calls "the spiritism of Christianity," the personality of God, the immortality of the soul, and the freedom of the will, are as clear and certain facts to them as are the cosmic ether, the solar spectrum, and the sphericity of the earth.

THE NEW THEOLOGY.

But what concerns us for the present is that the extreme dogmatism of this non-religious cult has come with so strong an impact upon Christian thought that, to a large extent, serene faith has been changed for confused wondering, and the certain note of Christian preaching has, in a large measure, given place to halting and dubious and apologetic utterance, and the Church has come to be not quite sure of herself. Are we not impressed with the fact that, nowadays, the evil leaven of Rationalism is permeating and invoking Christian theology? It is difficult to avoid feelings of impatience and irritation at the attempts that are being made to strip from it every element of the healthily mysterious and profound, until little scope is left for the exercise of faith at all. In the midst of many fine sayings and noble truths, there are weaknesses and puerilities, concessions, and compromises, and even base surrender of vital truth, against which robust Christian minds rise with intelligent protestation, but which set weak and ill-balanced minds agog with unhealthy curiosity, or shocked and stunned by legions of doubt. One is not conscious of being under obligation to repudiate everything that bears the name of the New Theology; there is a new theology current to which, while one might wish to eliminate some statements and to modify others, one gladly and even eagerly subscribes. The saner presentations of it may well claim our sympathy and acceptance, for the very good reason that we can believe it to be the oldest theology of all—as old as the days of the apostles, as old as the time of our Lord. The newest new theology, in some of its positions, is so obviously opposed to some of the plainest dicta of the New Testament that we can only regard it as a sad misfortune that it has been seriously advocated by prominent Christian teachers. It may be true, as some have suggested, that it is bringing many to a fresh and more careful examination of the foundations of faith, and that, therefore, out of apparent evil good may come. In the meantime, it has unsettled their faith, quenched their Christian zeal, and deprived them of so much power for Christian service. The effect upon the Church of this rationalising crusade, along with other causes, has been to render her timid, nerveless, paralytic. For the time —let us believe, only for the moment— her hands hang down and her knees are feeble.

BUDDHISM.

(b) It cannot have escaped your notice that there is a disposition, and, indeed, a very direct attempt, in some quarters, to set forth Buddhism, and even Mohammedanism, as serious rivals of Christianity. This has been done with so much insistence, indeed, as to furnish another fruitful cause of the timidity of the Church. Of Mohammedanism we do not need to speak; its claim to be a supreme moral factor may be passed over without discussion; its methods and history are its sufficient condemnation. But to the claim made in behalf of Buddha a little attention may be given. The new interest in Buddha is one of the results of the late Russo-Japanese war. Strong and able articles on the subject have appeared in some of the magazines and religious newspapers. One of them in particular soberly discusses the question, "Is the moral supremacy of Christendom in danger?" It comes from the pen of the editor of the "Hibbert Journal," Mr, L. P. Jacks. M.A. Mr. Jacks is much impressed with "the astonishing display (by the Japanese) during the war and in the peace negotiations, of virtues which Christians have always flattered themselves were exclusively associated with Christianity." In these he sees "a new development that affects her claim to be the universal teacher of mankind," and maintains "that it has how become the plain duty of Christendom to realise that her hold on the moral supremacy of the world is not so secure as many of us imagine." Mr. Jacks writes from a Christian standpoint yet he declares "that the faithlessness of Christendom to its own moral ideals has indeed been so obstinate, so long continued, so unashamed, that one might well look for the call and election of a more faithful nation as among the decrees of Providence."

All of which sound very plausible, and to the hearing of some, quite convincing. Nevertheless, it seems to me, it must needs be taken with a very strong pinch of salt. For, in the first place, granting that the virtues referred to were largely in evidence on the occasion mentioned, for they were, it may very properly be asked whether there are prevalent in Japanese life generally, and in the life of other peoples who are under the spell of Gautama, all those other virtues that figure in the Christian calendar, and, spite of a great amount of unfaithfulness on the part of professors, undoubtedly spread their charm over thousands of Christian lives. And if the story of Japanese life is truly told by the writers of it, the answer, whilst it generously recognises such virtues as do obtain therein, is a most decided negative. And, in the next place, it is open to grave question whether those virtues so distinctly evident in that great struggle are the fruits of Buddhism at all; whether, indeed, they are not the direct fruits of the Christian gospel. Carry your inquiry back of the period at which, after many vain attempts, Christianity at length planted itself firmly in Japan, and you will not be at all disposed to accord so much credit to Buddha. You will discover that there was a lamentable want of those very virtues; that the chief characteristics of Japanese national life were deep distrust and inveterate hatred of all other peoples; that within its borders were universal deceit and treachery; lawlessness, and rapacity, commercial corruption before which American grafters and corners might blush ; lying was so universally prevalent that the truth was hardly ever looked for; human life was held uncommonly cheap, and murder was an easily overlooked offence; an aspirant for the Emperor's throne, or for the lesser glory of a seat on the Shogunate might send a rival into everlasting silence with as little compunction as he might kill a troublesome flea, while a man who suffered a disappointment, a reverse, a defeat, brought upon himself the highest honour by self-disembowelling in the presence of his best friends. It is not necessary to contend that these were the products of Buddhism. By every kind of evidence, Buddha himself lived a life of exemplary virtue; we are assured that "he praised virtue, practised charity and chastity, lived as one who had discovered that goodness was the secret of life, and that its end was to, be holy." His teachings are declared to be "the noblest dream of altruistic ethics which ever broke upon the Oriental spirit." Yet it remains true that the prevalence of these evils synchronised with the nation's devotion to Buddha; and if he did not produce them, neither did he subdue nor eradicate them. And it is at least clear that where such a state of society was universal, the higher virtues were necessarily at a discount.

As a matter of fact, the recognition of the rights and regard for the feelings of their fellow-men, respect for truth, commercial integrity, and the acknowledgement of the sacredness of human life, are coincident with the advance of Christianity in that country. These flowers of virtue have opened and gathered their fragrance, not before Gautama's shrine, but at the foot of the Christian Cross; they have blossomed in beauty, not by the rays, of "the Light of Asia," but by those of "the Light of the World." If you come to inquire as to the precise nature of Buddhism, you find yourself confronted by a bewildering mass of elusive and perplexing ideas. These have been briefly summarised for us by a modern Christian scholar, who says: "Buddha said: 'If we live to-day it is because we have in some past existence accumulated the merit that calls for reward, or the demerit that cries for punishment. Merit is only a less evil than demerit, for it maintains in being, and by means of this continuance perpetuates the eternal possibility of some downward change, through some act of conscious or unconscious, sin.' And then he added : 'In order to escape from being we must escape equally from merit and demerit; but to do this we cannot live among men, where we must do the things which entitle to penalty or reward. We must retire from the world, and cultivate the suppression of the very desire to live, the surrender of the capability to act, the quenching of the thirst that by goading us into action binds, by merit or demerit, to the wheel of life. When we have ceased to desire, we shall cease to will, cease to act, to acquire, or to lose merit. The law that maintains being and enforces change will then cease to operate, and, released from the ever-revolving wheel, we shall attain to Nirvana, and return no more.' " Thus Buddhism stands for pessimism and extinction—disguised as Nirvana. A system like this, which practically extinguishes all desire and hope from the human heart, surely need not be feared as offering any serious rivalry to the Christian Gospel, every feature of which is calculated to inspire the noblest hope and the most splendid expectation ! We should be ashamed of our fears if we understood both better.

The Mercury 10 March 1909,