CHAPTER
7
(The Bible or the
Church?, Chapter VI., pp. 70-89)
87
THE great religions of the world appeal to sacred writings for their
sanction. But the religion of Christendom [i.e., Roman Catholicism
- ed.] differs in this respect from the religions of the East, that
its pretended appeal to Scripture is but a juggler's trick. It claims
our acceptance of doctrines which none but the credulous would believe
on human testimony; and when we demand to know when and where has God
revealed them, the answer given us is that "He has founded a Church,
and in and through the Church He speaks to us." When we seek authority
for this we are referred back to Holy Scripture; but when in turn we
claim to be allowed access to Scripture, human tradition is foisted
upon us instead. This sort of thing is
88
well known in another sphere: "ringing the changes" is what the vulgar
call it!
How different, this, from
the attitude and language of the great men who, in the sixteenth century,
sought to free England from the toils and tricks of priestcraft. Here
are their words:—
"It is not lawful
for the Church to ordain anything that is contrary to God's Word written;
neither may it expound one place of Scripture, that it be repugnant
to another. Wherefore, although the Church be a witness and a keeper
of Holy Writ, yet, as it ought not to decree anything against the
same, so, besides the same, ought it not to enforce anything to be
believed for necessity of salvation."[1]
[1] Article XX.
This
was precisely the question at issue in the sixteenth century. Obviously
so; for the Reformation was essentially a revolt against the pretensions
of "the Church," and an appeal to the supreme authority of Holy Scripture.[1A]
Different sorts of men of course were moved by different motives. With
the devout, the ruling influence was love of truth: with others, it
was detestation of the Church's immoralities and tyrannies. As for Henry
VIII., he cared little for either piety or morals. What he wanted was
to be master in his
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own realm. Roman Catholics seek to discredit the movement in England
by representing Henry as its leader. But they are on dangerous ground.
They forget that it was from the Pope that Henry obtained the title
of "Defender of the Faith." Immorality and hypocrisy were no bar to
Papal favour. Let them paint the King as black as they can, and brand
him as hypocrite and scoundrel; the fact remains that he was no worse
than the man who then sat in "the chair of St. Peter." The vices of
Henry VIII. were of a kind that the Church habitually condoned. But
what shall be said of Paul III.? This "Vicar of Christ on earth," so
far from being ashamed of his immoralities, flaunted them in the face
of the world. The Duchies of Parma and Piacenza he conferred upon his
illegitimate son Lewis, and he made provision for two of his grandsons,
although they were schoolboys in their teens, by appointing them Cardinals.[2]
These things need to be remembered
90
in these days when the salaried servants of the Church of the Reformation
are trying to undermine the work of the Reformation.
[1A] See
p. 1 ante.
[2]
They were aged 15 and 14 respectively. Julius III., who, as Cardinal
Del Monte, had presided for Paul III. at the Council of Trent, made
a Cardinal of a boy whom he had brought into his house on account of
his taking a fancy to him on the stage, and whom he had employed in
keeping his monkey-house. Such were the men that settled the creed of
Christendom!
Nothing is more unfair in controversy
than to state in our own words the tenets of others from whom we differ.
And to many, the discussion of principles, apart from the men who champion
them, seems too academic to be interesting. Let us then select an exponent
of the views it is here desired to challenge. Dr. Pusey's immediate
successor [Dr. Gore, now Bishop of Birmingham], as head of the House
which bears his name, will serve the purpose admirably. All the more
so because he is deemed a man of moderate opinions and of Christian
spirit. His personal contribution to Lux Mundi gave prominent
expression to certain of the errors here assailed, and The Ministry
of the Christian Church was written in defence of them.[3]
[3]
''The Mission of the Church" presents the same teaching in a
briefer and more popular form.
"How irrational it is,"
he says, "considering the intimate links by which the New Testament
canon is bound up with the historic Church, not to accept the mind of
that Church as interpreting the mind
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of the apostolic writers."[4]
The logic of this is charming. Let us test it by a parallel case. "How
irrational it is, considering the intimate links by which the Old Testament
canon is bound up with the Jews (and they, moreover, were the divinely
appointed custodians of them), not to accept the mind of the Jews as
interpreting the Messianic prophecies."
[4] "Lux
Mundi," pp. 339-340.
The glaring fallacy of this argument
lies in confounding questions of fact with interpretations of doctrine.
The question of the genuineness of the books of the New Testament is
of the same character as issues of fact such as are dealt with every
day in our courts of justice.[5]
We owe our obligations to the historic Church in early times for settling
and preserving the sacred canon. But this does not blind us to the fact
that the hatred of the Scriptures which it displayed in later times
was the natural fruit of the false teaching of the Fathers.
[5] Ex.
gr., whether a footpath was used by the public before a certain
time. A number of very old people are called to give their evidence;
and possibly the best witness may he the most notorious old rascal in
the parish! I well remember such a case at the assizes.
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But the statement above cited calls for further criticism. First, it
raises the whole question whether we possess a Divine revelation at
all.[6] Secondly, the question
again presents itself, What is the Church? The argument assumes that
it means the clergy—a figment which no one accepts who has not
already given up his Bible. And, thirdly, waiving that point, How is
the mind of the Church to be ascertained? If by the decrees of Councils,
then we are met by the fact that the mind of the Church was not declared
until after the epoch when "the mind of the apostolic writers" would,
by lapse of time, have been lost. If by the writings of the Fathers,
then the fact obtrudes itself that the Councils were convened to detect
and expose their heresies, and, therefore, they cannot be safe guides
to the "apostolic mind."
[6] "The
mind of the apostolic writers" is the nearest approach this author can
make to an acknowledgement of inspiration.
But our author is logical
enough to see that this position is untenable, so he abandons it for
another. Pusey reverenced the Bible as supreme, but his disciple is
unembarrassed by any enthusiasm
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of faith in Holy Scripture. In his opinion "the Scriptures have suffered
greatly from being isolated."[7]
"Nor can a hard-and-fast line be drawn between what lies within, and
what lies without, the canon."[8]
And lest any one should miss the meaning of these monstrous statements,
he explains them by an illustration. "The Epistle to the Hebrews and
St. Clement's letter are closely linked together." And, he adds, "How
impossible to tear the one from the other." Suffice it to say that in
the letter referred to, appeal is made to the Pagan myth of the Phoenix,
not incidentally, nor as an allegory or illustration, but gravely and
as a fact, to establish the truth of the resurrection.[9]
Impossible to tear apart the Scriptures
94
from puerilities and blunders like these! Could any one have written
the sentence above quoted who believed the New Testament to be a Divine
revelation?
[7] "Lux
Mundi," p. 337.
[8] Ibid.,
p. 339.
[9] And
yet the letter which is traditionally attributed to Clement of Rome
is in some respects vastly superior to the writings of the later Fathers.
Suffice it here to say that while expressly connected with the apostolic
Epistles to the Corinthians, it has nothing whatever in common with
the Epistle to the Hebrews. Why then bracket them thus together? The
answer to this question may he gleaned from the following sentence:
"For Clement interprets the high-priesthood of Christ in a sense which,
instead of excluding, makes it the basis of, the ministerial hierarchy
of the Church." Now, first, this appeal to Clement is an admission that
Scripture will not support what is pleaded for. And, secondly, the view
here attributed to Clement the ordinary reader will search for in vain.
In the clause referred to he enforces the maxim of I Cor. xiv. 40 (that
"all things should be done in order") by referring to the
Jewish orders of chief priest, priest, levite, and layman, each having
his fitting duties; but in the next clause but one he gives clear proof
(as has been noticed by numberless writers) that he knew nothing of
a "ministerial hierarchy."
Having thus undermined
confidence in Holy Scripture, the writer goes on to set up the authority
of "the Church" in its place. In a word, he falls back upon the position
of medieval superstition which was repudiated at the Reformation by
the Church of which he is a minister. The immense importance of the
subject must be my apology for pursuing it; for this is the teaching
by which the people of this nation are being insidiously drawn back
to the darkness, the intellectual and spiritual degradation, from which
the Reformation delivered our forefathers.
Proceeding with his argument
upon inspiration, he says:—
"Let us bear carefully in mind the
place which the
95
doctrine holds in the building up of a Christian faith. It is, in
fact, an important part of the superstructure, but it is not among
the bases of the Christian belief. The Christian creed asserts
the reality of certain historical facts. To these facts, in the
Church's name, we claim assent; but we do so on grounds which, so
far, are quite independent of the inspiration of the evangelic
records. All that we claim to show at this stage is that they are
historical; not historical so as to be absolutely without error,
but historical in the general sense, so as to be trustworthy. All
that is necessary for faith in Christ is to be found in the moral
dispositions which predispose to belief, and make intelligible and
credible the thing to be believed; coupled with such acceptance
of the generally historical character of the Gospels, and of the
trustworthiness of the other apostolic documents, as justifies belief
that our Lord was actually born of the Virgin Mary..." (p. 340).
Here in a single clause—and it
is the climax of an argument—we have the root error of the apostasy,
as definitely formulated by Augustine of Hippo. As Professor Harnack
expresses it, "The Church guaranteed the truth of the faith, when
the individual could not perceive it."[10]
[10]
In the same connection he says, ''When he (Augustine) threw himself
into the arms of the Catholic Church, he was perfectly conscious that
he needed its authority not to sink in scepticism or nihilism"
('History of Dogma, vol. v. ch. iii.). We are asked to follow
the teaching of Augustine, and yet he himself was simply following
the crowd—superstition calls it "the Church"—because,
like a timid man in the dark, he could not trust himself to be alone!
96
"To these facts, in the Church's name, we claim assent." If ever there
was an appeal to ignorance and superstition it is here. Having regard
to the Church's history, the effrontery of it is amazing. Its folly
will be apparent to anyone who brings reason and common sense to bear
upon the question. at issue.
The first of "these facts,"
upon which all the rest depend, is that the Nazarene was the Son of
God. The founder of Rome was believed to be the divinely begotten child
of a vestal virgin. And in the old Babylonian mysteries a similar parentage
was ascribed to the martyred son of Semiramis, Queen of Heaven. What
reason have we, then, for distinguishing the birth at Bethlehem from
these and other kindred legends of the ancient world? These men disparage
the Scriptures, and, though yielding a conventional assent to their
claim to inspiration, they refuse even to pledge themselves to their
truth; and yet in the Church's name "they claim assent" to that to which
no consensus of mere human testimony could lend even an a priori
probability.
All we need for faith
is to be found, forsooth,
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in "the moral dispositions which predispose to belief." When the weak-nerved
guest who has been plied with tales about the haunted room, retires
to rest with "the moral dispositions which predispose to belief" in
ghosts, the ghost is certain to appear, and the reality of ghosts is
never questioned more! And so also here: if we will but allow our minds
to be hypnotised by priests, we shall be prepared to believe in the
Incarnation, the sacrifice of Calvary, the sacrifice of the Mass, apostolic
succession, and the mystic efficacy of the sacraments. And we shall
swallow all these doctrines without any exercise of mind or heart or
conscience, and without any capacity to distinguish between Divine truth
and human error and superstition.
If, on the other hand,
the New Testament is a Divine revelation; if "the evangelic records"
are, in the language of the Apostle Paul, "God-breathed Scriptures,"
then indeed the Christian can face his fellow men with the confession
of his faith that the crucified Jew was the Son of God. But, apart from
such a revelation, faith in anything which is outside the sphere of
reason and
98
the senses is mere superstition. The foundation fact of Christianity
is of that character; and those who accept it on the authority of "the
Church" are poor superstitious creatures who would believe anything.
And such these men prove
themselves to be. They believe that the Nazarene was the Son of God;
they believe the same, and on the same authority, of a piece of bread
from the baker's oven. They are like the schoolboy who answers that
six and seven are thirteen, and later on, in reply to a further question,
says that six and eight are thirteen. The wrong answer destroys the
value of the right one, by showing that it rests on no intelligent basis.
And so here. Faith in that which is true is not necessarily true faith.
In this instance it would seem to be sheer credulity.
One quotation more to
make clearer still the anti-Christian character of this system:—
"If we believe... that our Lord founded
a visible Church, and that this Church with her creed and Scriptures,
ministry and sacraments, is the instrument which He has given to
use, our course is clear. We must devote our energies to making
the Church adequate to the Divine intention—as strong in principle,
as broad in spirit, as our
99
Lord intended her to be; trusting that, in proportion as her true
motherhood is realised, her children will find their peace within
her bosom. We cannot believe that there is any religious need which
at the last resort the resources of the Church are inadequate to
meet."[11]
[11]
"The Mission of the Church," p. vii.
What
does a man need in the spiritual sphere? Forgiveness of his sins?—the
Church will grant him absolution. Peace with God?—he will find
it in the Church's "bosom." "Grace to help in time of need"? Comfort
in sorrow? Strength for the struggles of life, and support in the solemn
hour of death? The whole mass of his need "the resources of the Church"
are adequate to meet.
Christ
is all in all in Christianity. But the Buddha of this religion holds
a position akin to that of the Sovereign in the British Constitution.
Supreme in a sense, of course, the Queen must be regarded; but the Queen
never touches the life of the ordinary citizen. And so here. Professor
Harnack describes it admirably in a single sentence: "Christ as a person
is forgotten. The fundamental questions of salvation are not answered
by reference to Him; and in life the baptised has
100
to depend on means which exist partly alongside, partly independent
of Him, or merely bear His badge."[12]
[12]
"History of Dogma," vol. v., ch. v.
These words, descriptive
of the Romish system under Gregory the Great, might be fitly placed
upon the title-page of The Church and the Ministry. Witness the
prevalence of such language as "salvation through the Church," "grace
communicated from without"—expressions and ideas wholly foreign
to Scripture, but well known in Romish theology. The work opens, of
course, with an appeal to tradition. As soon as the writer comes to
Scripture he at once betrays hopeless confusion between the kingdom
of heaven and the Church of God.[13]
The kingdom was the burden of Hebrew prophecy; the Church was a "mystery"
revealed after Israel's rejection of Messiah. He goes on to confound
the Church regarded as "the body of Christ," with the Church as an organised
society on earth.[13A] The former
necessarily includes all the redeemed of the Christian dispensation;
the latter is as necessarily
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limited to those who are actually in the world at any particular time.
Distinctions of this kind, so clear upon the open page of Scripture,
Romish theology ignores; and ignorance of them makes the New Testament
seem a maze of inconsistencies and contradictions.[14]
[13]
p. 43, see Ch. IV,
pp. 48-49 ante.
[13A]
See p. 1 ante.
[14]
Such distinctions explain, ex gr., how the Lord could say,
"I am not sent but to the lost sheep of the house of Israel;" "Go not
into the way of the Gentiles," &c.; and yet how He could
speak of Divine love to the world, and eternal life for "whosoever
believeth in Him!" And as regards the twofold aspect of the Church,
we find, in Eph. iv. 11, the ministry designed to fulfil the Divine
purpose for the one, and, in I Cor. xii. 28, we have the provision for
the needs of the other. "For the building up of the body of Christ"
(Eph. iv. 12) we have (in addition to apostles, prophets, and teachers,
which are common to both) evangelists or preachers of the gospel.
In the Church as organised on earth we have no evangelists (for the
Church is supposed to be composed of those who have been brought in
by the gospel), but we have "helps, governments," &c.
The sphere of government is the Church on earth; the sphere of
the ministry of the gospel is the world. The Apostle Paul had this double
ministry. "The gospel... whereof I am made a minister;" and "'the Church
whereof I am made a minister" (Col. i. 23-25).
Apostolic Succession,
which is the burden of the book, is the special subject of the second
chapter. The pundits of the Council of Trent had to face the fact that
the Papal system rested upon a single text;[15]
the figment of Apostolic Succession
102
has not even one perverted text to support it. It is not a question
whether provision has been made for a true ministry in the Church until
the end; that is assured by Divine faithfulness and power. But
what we are here asked to believe is that the Buddha of Christendom
set in motion a mechanical system which, by a process of finger-tip
touches, to be repeated generation after generation, would transmit
to all posterity certain mystical influences, for the maintenance of
what is called "grace."
[15] "Thou
art Peter,..." &c., (Matt 16:18).
Now this may be considered from the standpoint
either of Christianity or of reason.[16]
As regards the latter, suffice it here to ask, Is it any wonder that
in view of such teaching, so many intelligent and honest-minded men
of the world should come to look upon religion as a jumble of silly
fables and shameful frauds? And as regards the former, it would be idle
to expect that the ordinary reader would follow an exhaustive exegesis
of Scripture on the subject, and
103
perhaps a clear statement of the error will render unnecessary an elaborate
exposition of the truth.
[16] If
any one wishes a powerful refutation of this figment on theological
grounds, he will find it in the Dean [Lefroy] of Norwich's "Donnellan
Lectures," published by Hodder and Stoughton, under the title, "The
Christian Ministry."
The case stands thus.
In the Apostolic Church there were apostles, bishops (or elders), and
ministers.[17] The apostles
held a unique position. They admittedly had to do with the foundation
of the Church. That they have successors is a mere inference. To establish
that inference is the object of the treatise here under notice.[18]
A perusal of it will suggest to the intelligent reader a juggler's attempt
to place a ball at rest half way down an inclined plane. Ordinary folk
will place it either at the top or at the bottom. The Christian takes
his stand upon Scripture; the Romanist falls back upon Tradition; but
these
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Romanising Anglicans are the advocates of an unintelligent and impossible
compromise. It is a clever piece of casuistry, nothing more.
[17] Not
"deacons." There was no word in the Greek language for steam-engine
when the New Testament was written; neither was there for deacon;
and for the same reason! See Appendix
IV., Note 2.
[18]
No one can fail to mark the contrast between the tone of this book and
that of the volume cited in the fifth chapter (Ch.
5, p. 62, ante). As we read Canon Bernard's Lectures we seem
to be breathing the pure air of heaven; when we turn to Canon Gore's
treatise we are oppressed by the atmosphere of the crypt and the cloister.
In the one we have Christian theology; in the other the theology
of Christendom.
Here is the scheme: As
there were three orders at the first, there must he three orders now.
But as we have no longer apostles, the "bishops" of the New Testament
are moved up, so to speak, to fill their place; and the position thus
vacated by the promoted bishops is occupied by "priests"—not "presbyters
writ small," but priests. The Romanist, more intelligent and
more consistent than his imitators, recognises that above the apostles
there was Christ, and so he sets up a Vicar of Christ, the Pope.
In the sublime arrogance,
the daring profanity, of Rome there is something which almost commands
an unwilling admiration; but this halting imitation of Rome evokes feelings
of a very different kind. And there is nothing more pitiable about these
men than their repudiation of the name of "Protestant." If their position
be not a protest against Rome, it must be designed as a halfway house
to inveigle the unwary over to Rome. If they are not Protestants they
must be
105
Jesuits. But whatever be their intention, there is no doubt as to the
legitimate tendency and results of their teaching. Cardinal Vaughan
writes: "The recent revival of Catholic doctrines and practices in the
Church of England is very wonderful. It is a hopeful sign. It exhibits
a yearning and a turning of the mind and heart towards the Catholic
Church. It is a national clearing the way for something more."[19]
[19]
"The Primitive Church and the See of Peter." Preface.
This religion bears a
relation to Christ akin to that which the Buddhism of to-day bears to
Gautama. Nineteen centuries ago, as already explained, the Buddha of
Christendom injected into His apostles the "grace" upon which our salvation
depends; and the stock of the commodity now available has come down
to us on the finger-tip touch system through a long succession. Salvation
is thus "through the Church," by means of the sacraments; and therefore,
apart from Apostolic Succession in an episcopacy, there can be no "Church,"
no valid sacraments, and, of course, no salvation. No, not quite that;
for, we are told, "God's love is not limited by His covenant:"
106
He is not bound to His sacraments.[20]
Which suggests that, considering the long ages during which the "sacramental
grace" has been flowing through the filthiest channels, sensible people
will do well to distrust the orthodox "grace," and to cast themselves
upon the "uncovenanted mercy" of God.
[20] "The
Church and the Ministry," p. 110.
The Christian of course
takes higher ground and denounces the whole system as both false and
profane. It is false; for this theory of salvation "through the covenant"
by "sacramental grace" denies the great characteristic truth of Christianity.
This shall be demonstrated in the sequel.[21]
And it is profane, for it assumes that a holy, holy, holy God can recognise
immoral and wicked men as His specially accredited ministers. What would
be thought of the army—what
would be thought of the Sovereign—if
men convicted of crime, or even disgraced by flagrant and notorious
acts of immorality were allowed to hold the Queen's commission? The
only Scripture that can be cited in support of the profanity refutes
it.
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For it was not the death of Judas which determined his apostleship,
but his sin. All the apostles died; but Judas "by transgression
fell." The man who stands upon Apostolic Succession may be indeed
a minister of "the Christians' religion," but he has no valid claim
to be acknowledged as a minister of Christ. He is separated from Christ
by nineteen centuries of time, and by an impassable slough of moral
filth and spiritual apostasy.
[21] See
Chap. XII., post.
To the superficial, the
grossness of the imposture is not apparent in the case of those whose
life and character give them personal claims to respect and veneration.
But if the position be tenable at all, such men are "in the same boat"
with the vilest of the miscreants who disgraced the clerical office
during all the centuries until the Reformation shamed "the historic
Church" into a show of outward decency, and compelled it to set its
house in order. They moreover, were "nearer to the fountain"
than are their successors of to-day. And they, forsooth, were pillars
of the Church, and custodians of "grace," while men like a Chalmers
or a Spurgeon are mere interlopers, whose deliverance
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from the doom of Uzzah is due to the uncovenanted mercy of God! That
educated men can be deluded by such a system is proof of the baneful
influence of human religion upon the mind.
*
* *
The
preceding chapter was taken from:
THE BUDDHA OF CHRISTENDOM (revised and republished in 1908 as
The Bible or the Church?) by Sir Robert Anderson.
Published by Hodder and Stoughton, London, 1899, no copyright.
The
Buddha of Christendom, Chapter 8 (Bible or Church?, Ch 7)
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