We of the twentieth century have an
overwhelming desire to be up to the times. Nothing
but the latest news on any subject will completely
satisfy. We are more anxious for late information
than for accurate information. We have an almost
unconquerable feeling that if it is late it must be
accurate. All of us are sensitive to being thought
behind the times. We feel that no stigma can be
more invidious in the intellectual world than the
stigma of being out of date. This pervades the
masses quite as strongly as it does the more cultured
classes. Under these conditions everybody wants
to know the latest theory that science has to offer
concerning anything that can be brought within the
range of their interests. As a result everybody
would like to know about evolution, were it not for
the fact that a great mass of people have been brought
to believe that there is something inherently irreligious
in the idea. Our people have a saving sense of
the value of religion. Denominational control
may set lightly upon them. Certain long revered
doctrines may have little practical influence upon
them. Yet inherently they all believe in religion,
and most of them believe themselves to be religious,
as indeed they really are.
It is a most wholesome tendency which
leads us to esteem religion as the main interest in
life. We must feel a sense of shame when we consciously
permit the influences, which most favorably mold our
character, to weaken their hold upon our lives.
Certainly in our time religion is the essential agent
by which character is molded. Any of us would
be foolishly short-sighted were he willing to weaken
the hold of religion upon his life for the sake of
a scientific theory, the truth or falsity of which
could have but little practical bearing upon his conduct.
We must hold to religion at all hazards. We may,
when circumstances so suggest, change our denominational
allegiance. We may and often do interpret our
faith quite at variance with the ecclesiastical body
with which we are connected. We may constantly
modify and develop our beliefs. But it is a pitiful
life which has lost the staying and strengthening
influence of religion. I believe this conviction
is deep-rooted in the minds of our people and that
it deserves the place it holds.
To a mind thus essentially religious
the announcements of science often come as a shock.
They seem to run counter to our deepest convictions.
It seems impossible to us that both can be true.
Sometimes the more we debate the questions the more
contradictory they seem to become. Every good
mind needs unity in itself. No clear thinker
can be quite content when two distinct departments
of thought are at sharp variance in his mind.
He may pursue one of two courses. He may hold
to one view with conviction and earnestness and look
upon the other as essentially false. To many
religious people all science that runs counter to
their convictions is necessarily false. They
label it pseudo-science and pass it by. If the
word pseudo-science is unknown to them, they stigmatize
it as rationalistic, or still worse as materialistic
and let it go at that.
The other course is to have faith
both in religion and in science.
Such a fair-minded man must ask himself,
what is the truth in the matter? If the scientific
fact is true it is to be believed. It may run
counter to what we have believed before. It may
seem at first entirely incredible. But when once
he becomes convinced of its truth the clear thinker
must not only accept it, but must accept all legitimate
deductions from it. If it seems true to us we
must believe it. Absolute demonstrable truth,
except in the simplest of matters is almost unattainable.
The best we can ordinarily get is a close approach
to certainty, and with this we must be content.
In many matters, indeed in most matters, we must trust
the judgment of others who are better trained in a
particular line of thought.
As to the truth of geology we are
certainly wise to accept for the present the facts
and principles commonly accepted by competent geologists.
In biology, we should respect the concurrent opinion
of important biologists. We must not assume that
a few biologists who think as we do are right against
the biological world, or that a few geologists who
think as we do are right against the geological world.
For theology, we had better go to the educated theologian.
But when it comes to reconciling two of these and
to catching the inherent correspondence between them,
it is often likely that each of these groups of men
is unable to see clearly the view-point of the other.
Here lies our freedom. Here we must either think
for ourselves or think with those wiser than ourselves
whose opinions seem to us to ring true and to focus
for us our wavering and uncertain thought.
Among students of animals and plants
there is no longer any question as to the truth of
evolution. That the animals of the present are
the altered animals of the past, that the plants of
to-day are the modified plants of yesterday, that
civilized man of to-day is the savage of yesterday
and the tree-dweller of the day before, is no longer
debatable to the great mass of biologists. To
older men hampered by the convictions of an earlier
age this dictum of modern science may still be a little
uncertain.
The working biologists of the world
have no doubt. They differ radically as to what
brought about this change, they dispute vigorously
as to the rate of change, but as to the fact of the
change there is no difference of opinion. Under
these conditions the thinking man is out of joint
with the times when he sets himself against the idea
of evolution. He may be so immersed in other lines
as to be indifferent to the problem; but when he is
hostile to it, he marks himself as clearly against
his day. Many have been against their day and
have been right. Very great men have often been
against the opinions of their times and have come
to be leaders of the world’s later thought.
But ordinary men in ordinary times who think differently
on a special subject from the specialists of the times
are not very likely to be right. It is safe for
most of us to accept as true an opinion on which specialists
on that subject agree. It seems clear to me then
that the thinking man to-day has in the matter of
evolution a double duty. He must become reasonably
acquainted with the theory that so largely affects
all present knowledge, and he must wrestle with the
theory until it no longer hinders the hold of religion
upon his life. He may be perfectly sure that he
does not clearly understand both, but he must get
them into reasonable concordance before he can be
quite at peace.
Truth is true no matter how it is
acquired. There can be no doubt as to the essential
truth of religion: its fruits proclaim its worth.
There can be no doubt as to the essential truth of
evolution; the clarity it has brought into the sciences
is the evidence of the value of the conception.
That it will persist in its present form, that it
will be unchanged by later additions to our knowledge
is of course unthinkable. It may be incomplete,
it may be undeveloped, but so far as it goes it contains
the truth. Under these conditions, how can we
bring peace into our own mind? These two important
provinces seem so often to be at variance. The
difficulty may lie in one of two places. In the
first place, each truth may be stated in terms so peculiar
to its own subject as to convey no meaning to the
student of the other branch. There is a second,
and more harassing possibility. The same words
may be used by students in each branch but each side
may put a different significance into the terms.
Then each believes he understands the other, when
he really does not.
Our theology is man’s interpretation
of God’s revelations of Himself as recorded
in the Bible. Our science is man’s interpretation
of God’s revelation of Himself in nature.
Each is God’s revelation, and so far as we have
understood it, that revelation is of the utmost importance
in our lives. Each has all the inherent short-comings
of man’s interpretation. Each has all the
difficulties necessarily found in any stage of a developing
understanding. We may be sure if we could thoroughly
understand God’s revelation of Himself as recorded
in the Bible and his revelation of Himself as recorded
in the rocks and the tissues of animals as well as
in the body and mind of man to-day, there would be
no difficulty. When we understand both completely,
as perhaps we never shall, there will be no contradictions
of any kind between them. Even now if we are
firmly convinced that truth must be in both, there
will be little difficulty in reaching a workable unity
which will satisfy the present needs of the human mind
and will not be so crystallized as to prevent a future
growth. If, however, we hope to find a unity
between a belief in evolution and a belief in the
inspiration and value of the Bible, we must accept
both of these in the terms of to-day. To reconcile
a twentieth century statement of science with an eighteenth
century statement of theology would be as absurd as
it would be to reconcile a statement of twentieth century
theology with eighteenth century science. Each
century must restate its truths in terms of its own
time. The truths may be at bottom the same through
many centuries but to be clearly intelligible in any
century they must be couched in the terminology of
the age.
It seems to me if we are to understand,
in conformity with the thought of the age, any particular
book in the Bible, there are three steps through which
we must pass. We must first ask ourselves the
kind of people to whom the book was originally written.
We must know their habits of life and of thought.
Until this is clear in our minds the book can have
little significance. Having built up as nearly
as may be the life and thought of the time, we must
next decide what is the inherent truth taught to the
people of that time by the book under consideration.
Much that is written must be simply the setting in
which alone that truth could reach them. This
extraneous detail gives vigor and color to the message
but is not the message itself. The last step
and the hardest one to take, the one that to some minds
seems almost irreverent, is to decide the form that
message must take to-day to convey to our minds the
same truth which the original message conveyed to
the people of its time. In so far as we succeed
in taking these three steps, we shall get the true
message which this book holds for us to-day.
When Paul in his first burning letter
told the Corinthian congregation that their women
should be silent in their churches, he is not, it
seems to me, giving a message which in those terms
applies to the world to-day. If a woman has anything
that is worth saying she has a perfect right to say
it in church. In any denomination in which religious
observance is not ecclesiastically formal she will
be allowed that privilege. By an interesting
peculiarity of mind on our part she may be permitted
to do so upon Wednesday evenings, when our early prejudice
still prevents her speaking on Sunday. What is
the truth of the teaching of Paul in this matter?
The Christians of Corinthian times had already begun
to suffer from persecution. They were already
despised and distrusted. Men had come to speak
ill of them. Paul’s injunction concerning
the silence of women in churches was simply an injunction
against their doing those things which in the thought
and habit of those times were associated generally
with looseness of character. Fine Corinthian
women did not speak in public. A woman who would
consent to speak before a group of men of Corinth of
that day would by that fact have proclaimed herself
a woman of loose morals. Paul’s injunction
is that, in this desperate struggle Christian women
should do nothing which could possibly bring them into
disrepute. The lives of Christians must be above
suspicion. This message is certainly as true
to-day as it was in the time of Paul and Corinth.
Whether or not a woman speaks in church to-day has
no bearing whatever upon the question. The question
is how she speaks and what she says. If her life
gives force to her message and her message contains
God’s truth she is entirely free to speak.
In similar fashion we have changed
most beautifully the message which we have come to
love, as the Mizpah message: “The Lord watch
between thee and me while we are absent one from the
other.” We have absolutely transformed
and glorified the message. It was once the calling
down of the wrath of Jéhovah upon one or other of two
herdsmen if either of them should fail to comply with
the agreement to remain within his own boundary.
These men whose herdsmen were constantly stealing
each other’s cattle agreed to separate because
they could not live in unity. They set up a heap
of unhewn stone, and called upon God to guard and
to see that neither of them passed beyond the boundary
of the other. What was once a threat between
warring herdsmen has become a binding link between
Christian brothers. No longer do we call upon
the Lord to guard in our absence lest our enemy encroach
upon our domain. Now we call upon him to bind
our hearts together so that neither time nor circumstance
can bring division between us. The menace of
a herdsman’s wrath has become one of the tenderest
messages of Christian love.
In the light of the principles stated
above, what is the essential truth that lies back
of the earliest chapters of Genesis? First, that
there is one God. Slowly it had been borne in
upon the Hebrew mind as upon no other tribe in the
world that the Lord God is one God. Nearly all
the world besides believed in many gods. Each
nation had a God peculiarly its own, each city had
a minor god caring for it particularly. There
were gods of the woods, gods of the oceans, gods of
the streams. Gods and goddesses were everywhere.
To this people wandering through the terrible monotony
of the sandy desert, the “Garden of Allah,”
there came the inspired comprehension of the eternal
oneness of Almighty God. First, he was to most
of them the God of the Hebrew, stronger than the gods
of the nations. After a while under the teaching
of prophet after prophet there finally came to the
entire nation the exalted conception that God is one
and there is no other God. This is one of the
imperishable revelations of all time. Beside
this, all suggestions of fifth or sixth day, of hours
or of ages are absolutely insignificant. These
are but the clothing of the idea which makes it acceptable
to its time. This clothing must change with every
age if it would reach thoroughly the minds of the age.
Underneath and forever lies the glorious truth that
the Lord God is one God.
The second truth which seems to me
to underlie this magnificent parable of creation is
the truth that this great God has created the universe
and that he cares for his people. Gods before
had been objects of terror. Gods before had lived
lives such as the people themselves would not have
respected among their companions. Gods before
were to be shunned. If one could but escape the
attention of the gods it was his greatest good fortune.
Now we have the conception of an all-knowing, ever-present
God to whom his people are dear. The terms in
which it was stated in those days matter but little.
To modern psychologists even the idea that people
are dear to God seems speaking too humanly. Yet
the truth involved must come in terms that the people
of to-day understand. We can best comprehend God
if we think of Him as loving and chastening, even
though down in our hearts we know that these terms
are not high enough, are too human to apply to an
Eternal God. But we know no better and they tell
us the truth even though the terms may in time pass
completely away.
Last of all and perhaps most characteristic
of the Hebrew people is the great lesson that this
Eternal God, who created the universe and cares for
his people, demands righteousness of his people.
To the nations round about religion was not a matter
of righteousness. For them religion had nothing
to do with morality. Thieves might have gods
favorable to them quite as well as righteous men.
The worship of Diana of the Ephesians or of Astarte
in the groves of the Asia Minor coast could be so
unspeakably licentious and vile as not to admit of
description to-day. Yet this was all religion.
To the Hebrew came the inspired, exalted conception
of a God who demanded righteousness of his people.
Beside this wonderful revelation to the human mind
details of serpents, and of apples, of names of men
and of women, of gardens and of swords are absolutely
but the transitory clothing. This brought them
to the minds of the times. The value of the form
is evidenced by the fact that it brought the conception.
But we must not lose the glory of the conception in
an over regard for the clothing in which the idea
came.
Does this mean that Genesis has served
its purpose and is to-day to be conceived of as a
beautiful relic of the past, to be reverently enshrined
but not seriously accepted? Far from it.
The glory of the Genesis story lies in its wonderful
power to grow. It strengthened the minds of a
persecuted tribe wandering in the desert who finally
settled in a small and barren country. It brought
the truth to them so clearly that they have persuaded
much of the world of that truth and bid fair to persuade
the rest. The story has grown with the mind of
man. As it served the Hebrew in his time it has
grown to serve others to this day. Each generation
has read the story in the light of its own times and
each generation will continue to read the story in
the light of its advancing knowledge. The only
part of the story that can be affected is the clothing,
the inherent truth remains forever. Furthermore,
the story which persuaded the childhood of race is
the story which will persuade the childhood of to-day.
In no other form could the great truth of the Bible
be brought to our children as well as in the form
of these early chapters. In early life our children
will accept these stories as literally as the ancient
Hebrew accepted them. As they grow in knowledge,
unconsciously and without jar, if we do not jar them,
our children will read into the story what God has
taught them in the world outside. The shock which
came to their elders need never come to them.
It is our fault if our children are disturbed by the
conflict between religion and science which disturbed
us. There is no difference between God’s
revelation of Himself, as we have it in the Bible,
and God’s revelation of Himself in nature.
The better we know the Bible and the better we know
nature the clearer this will be to us.
Perhaps the most severe shock that
has come to the mind of religious man from the teachings
of science has been the at first almost unsupportable
idea that man is the descendant of creatures of which
the ape is to-day the nearest representative.
He had learned from Genesis the altogether adorable
conception that he was made in the image of his Maker.
It lifted him; it strengthened him; it gave him more
power to struggle. He might know that he had marred
that likeness by wrong-doing, he might understand
that the fullness of the glory of God’s image
could not shine through his own face. Yet he believed
that he was, in spite of all his imperfections, made
in the image of his Maker. Now comes this horrible
linkage with a miserable brute to either shock and
confound him or to degrade him. We can easily
imagine, some of us have bitterly experienced, the
shock of this changed conception. But it was
only because we mistook the clothing for the truth
in both cases. We read science in its own terms;
we read Genesis in its own terms. They did not
use the same language and they jarred us to the very
soul. Slowly, however, we are coming out of the
darkness of that battle; slowly the glorious light
of the beautiful truth is breaking into our minds
and our hearts.
Michael Angelo painted a wonderful
picture of “The Judgment.” Here,
seated upon a throne, which after all is only a magnificent
chair, sits a venerable figure of what is really but
a nobly-proportioned man, to whom the nations come
for their final reward. He separates the righteous
from those who must forever be sundered from their
God. Seen through the distant past it still remains
a majestic picture; but no painter would think of
repeating its conception to-day.
Quite in the modern spirit is the
beautiful lunette which John Sargent placed in the
Boston Library, above his well known frieze of “The
Prophets.” It represents “Jéhovah
confounding the gods of the nations.” The
naked figure of suppliant Israel stands before an altar
of unhewn stones, on which burns the sacrifice.
The smoke ascends to Heaven. On one side stands
the mighty figure of Assyria with uplifted mace ready
to strike its awful blow upon the shoulders of helpless
Israel. On the other side the lithe, subtle form
of Egypt, clasping the knout, watches its chance to
bring its treacherous thong upon the helpless shoulders
of suffering Israel. But Jéhovah may not appear,
man may not look on God and live. Jéhovah is seen
as a glory behind the cloud of smoke shrouded by winged
cherubim. From one side of the cloud comes a
mighty hand meeting with power the force of Assyria.
From the other side, a lithe and sinewy hand thwarts
the subtlety of Egypt. But Jéhovah is behind
the cloud.
Again we understand that we are made
in the image of our Maker. Again we understand
the power of the uplift of this idea. From the
conflict it has emerged in new and glorified form.
Hath a God eyes that he may see? Hath a God ears
that he may hear? Hath a God hands that he may
work? These we know to be but human forms of speaking.
Eyes, ears, and hands we may owe to the brute from
whom we have sprung; in our eyes and ears and hands
we show the relationship we bear to them. These
are not the image of God. God is a deeper, a
finer, a nobler something than hands, than ears and
eyes. The image of God lies within ourselves:
the image of God is that which makes us what we are.
In every noble purpose, in every earnest endeavor
to uplift ourselves or our fellowman, in every thought
that turns us from the evil of a repented past, in
every desire with which our hearts yearn to strengthen,
support and sustain our friends and even our enemies,
shines forth the image of Almighty God. This it
is that links us with the Eternal: this it is
that makes it worth while that we should be Eternal.
Besides this what are hands and ears and eyes?
We are made, all in us that is noblest and highest,
in the image of our Maker.
A word in closing. The time is
ripe for a broader conception of theology and of science
on the part of those who are not trained to be specialists
in either. We are becoming more and more inherently
religious. We are becoming more and more enamored
of the truth in all its forms. The times are
ripe for us to cease the struggle and to strive for
peace. So long as men insist that the important
things in faith are the things on which men differ
there will be eternal strife. So soon as men
endeavor to find the common ground between them and
each tries to state his belief in forms acceptable
to himself but involving no hostility to his neighbor,
we shall be working for peace.
Some of our finest men of to-day are
being trained in modern science and in modern theology.
There is no scorn in their minds for early science
or for early theology. Each served its age, and
each taught its truth. But its truth must be
restated in terms of to-day. The old creeds will
always be loved. The old creeds will always hold
our reverence and allegiance. But each age must
be at liberty to interpret these creeds in the terms
in which that age best understands truth. Each
age must be at liberty “to restate the doctrines
of the past in accordance with the newness of the
age and with the ancient verity of truth.”
How feeble my own attempt is in this matter, I quite
understand; I am still a child of the struggle.
It has all come in my lifetime and I have seen and
felt not a little of the bitterness of it. I
believe the time is ripe for a definite peace.
I believe our children, if we do not hamper them,
will never know the struggle we have had. In
every great institution throughout this broad land
men of earnest mind and noble soul are teaching the
truth as God gives it to them to know the truth.
Let us not hesitate to entrust our children to their
hands. To us they may seem to be teachers of discord
but they are not speaking in terms that we understand.
They are using the language of a new age. Underneath
their teaching lies the everlasting truth. Out
of their teaching will come everlasting life.
Let us trust God in the world. Let us believe
that in this age he is teaching men’s lips and
dwelling in men’s hearts. Only so can we
give to our children the best their times can give
them. If we insist in holding these men back
to our conception we but deny them the privilege of
moving with God’s great procession. We
make them laggards when they should be in the front
ranks, their faces lighted by a nearer and clearer
vision of Almighty truth.