The Future of Religion

1916

By H. Symonds, D. D.

God is a spirit, and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth. — John iv. 4.

I. If we should ask this question "What is the most characteristic and significant difference between the modern and the old way of looking at religion and Christ in particular in its varied manifestations?" I think the answer would be something like this: In the past men thought of religion as some kind of completed system and order of things. A scheme or plan completely fashioned and framed, perfect from the start, handed to men, and by one generation to be transmitted to another unchanged, unimpaired, complete.

It was of course admitted that this ideal had never been realized. From the beginning there were disputes, controversies, heresies, schisms. Nevertheless the conception of religion as a completed scheme was adhered to. The watchword was this: That is true, and that is to be regarded as orthodox and Christian which has been held "everywhere, at all times, and by every one." This conception, mark, was not only the conception of the Catholic, but also of the Protestant. The Protestant thought the Catholic had been false to the principle; that he had introduced many new things. Hence he said we must go back to the New Testament and begin all over again. The fundamental error of the reformers — an error, however, which in their time was unavoidable — was the supposition that the New Testament must contain a complete system of belief of organization of worship. Only find that, they said (and they believed with enthusiasm that it could be found), and all Christians will unite. But alas! — we know how false were these hopes. It might have been supposed that if the New Testament did contain such a scheme, then at all events the true Scriptural organization of the church would have been discoverable.

But it was not. As you know, three different forms of ministry were discovered, each defended as divine and necessary, and with equal learning and logic — the Episcopal theory, the Presbyterian theory, and the Congregational theory.

That was the old way of looking at Christ — a way which has not yet died out, although it is so perfectly clear that something is wrong with it.

The new way of looking at Christianity is to regard it, not as a completed system of belief, worship, or organization, but rather as in the beginning the revelation of a life — the life of Christ in whom was gathered up all that was truest and best in the long preparation of the Old Testament. Behind the actual visible life of Christ was the Spirit and mind of Christ, by which one means the desires, the mo[tives of Christ; it] is this Spirit of Christ that is important. We can not imitate Him in His daily life of act, but we can seek after the motive or the Spirit in which He lived and worked. So, then, to-day we think of Christ not as having given a creed, or a government, or a system of worship, but as having lived in the world His life, and as having bequeathed to the world His Spirit.

But this Spirit comes into conflict with the spirit of the world, the spirit of what we call the natural man. It is not realized all at once; it is not even understood all at once. And so we think of Christianity as something progressively realized as the ages roll on. And as we look at so-called Christian nations, as we contemplate the selfishness, the corruption, the inequalities, the oppressions that still exist, we awake to the fact that even yet Christianity is not perfectly understood, that, e. g., what Christ meant by loving our neighbor as ourselves is not comprehended as yet by any class of society.

Again, although Christianity is primarily and fundamentally a spirit, the Spirit of Christ, yet we know that pure Spirit does not and can not be in this world. We ourselves are body and spirit. We can not express ourselves except by means of our bodies. So the Spirit of Christianity took to itself a body, and that body we call the church. Naturally those who became Christians asked many questions about Christianity. Out of those questions of necessity there came a creed. Naturally those who became Christians sought to give outward expression of their devotion to and adoration of Christ. Hence sprang up, and was gradually systematized, Christian worship. Naturally those who were Christian brethren gave outward expression to their fellowship and unity, and out of that desire sprang the organization of the church. Thus the church did not begin — no society ever did — with a system imposed upon men from without, but it began with the Spirit of Christ, and out of that Spirit came the church with its creed, worship, organization.

And these, too, developed, grew, changed with changing times and circumstances. Let me give one example, taken from that department of Christianity supposed to be least variable — the department of creed. If you asked of a young student of divinity this question, "When was the Nicene Creed composed?" he would probably say: "In the year 325, at the Council of Nicea, from which it takes its name." And yet that would be about as misleading an answer as could be given. The Nicene Creed was never composed; it grew. And it was more than three hundred years in the growing. The Council of Nicea had something to do with it, but very much less than is generally supposed. It existed almost in the form in which it left the council, before the council met, and it was further developed during fifty years subsequent to the meeting of that council.

Let me then sum up this part of our subject by saying that the old thought and conception of the New Testament was that it came into the world as completed creed, worship, and organization. The new thought of it is that it is first a spirit, but a spirit which takes to itself by degrees an outward form. It develops, it grows, it is modified here and there by changing circumstance. And is not this new conception of a development more in accord with our Savior's own teaching? The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed, which indeed is less than all seeds, but when it is grown it is greater than the herbs and becometh a tree.

II If these things are so, then you perceive at once that the subject we are considering is of very practical importance, for we may expect still further modification, growth, development. Only dead things never change. Living things are subject to continual change, the constant adaptation to an ever-changing environment. And so there is nothing we should dread as much as standing still, nothing so fatal as changelessness. The institution which can not adapt itself to new environment is doomed.

In the future, then, we may expect that less stress will be placed upon creed and upon the particular forms of worship, and a great deal more stress will be placed upon life, and especially the spirit of a man's life. In other words, religion will become more spiritual and less formal. Right opinion will count less than unselfishness. To give $100,000 for foreign missions will count less than justice and righteousness. The lust of money will be accounted a worse thing than staying away from church. And in in all respects religion will be getting back to Christ, — to that Christ who said God is a Spirit, and they that worship Him must worship Him in spirit and truth; to that Christ who said that to love our fellow man — not to exploit him — was a commandment that ranked with the love of God; to that Christ who said, "Why call ye me Lord, Lord, but do not the things that I say?"

Are we then — some of you may be asking yourselves — are we then to suppose that church worship and doctrine are going to disappear altogether? Some there are who think so. But these we may safely say are wrong. They have reacted too violently against the excessive value placed in the past upon church-going and orthodoxy. I think this point is of sufficient importance to dwell upon for a moment or two.

Did it ever occur to you that in the Old Testament church creed was almost non-existent? "Hear, O Israel the Lord our God is one Lord" sums up the Hebrew creed. But worship or ritual was everything. The details of worship were laid down with the utmost rigor. Every sacrifice had to be offered in exactly the right way, the ritual was carefully prescribed, and to vary from it was an offense scarcely thinkable. In other words, religion was cultus or ritual.

Christianity began without ritual or definite creed. But when it spread among a highly intellectual and philosophical people like the Greeks, it naturally developed doctrine or theory, and doctrine and theory hardened into dogma. In other words, religion ceased to be primarily right cultus or right ritual and became right doctrine. And we may freely admit that this was a step in advance.

But what I want you to notice is that because the religion of doctrine replaced the religion of ritual, it did not follow that ritual disappeared altogether. It still remained, and occupied a very important tho not the first place. And just so, altho I can not conceive it possible that right thinking or doctrine will ever again occupy the place it has in the past, yet it seems certain from many considerations that both doctrine and worship must have a permanent place in the Christian church. Only just as to-day we do not stigmatize because he offers extemporaneous prayer, or preaches in a black gown or a black coat, or per contra prefers a surplice and the Book of Common Prayer, so neither shall we in the future inquire too particularly into the exact opinions of any one upon predestination or original sin, or the relations of the divine and human in Christ, or the double procession of the Holy Ghost. All of them are for some of us important as well as interesting questions; but because men differ from one another about them, they will no longer stigmatize each other as heretics. We shall rather judge of soundness by Christ's test: "He that heareth these saying of mine and doeth them, shall be likened unto a wise man that built his house upon a rock." In one word we say this: "The religion of the spirit is the religion of liberty."

III. Our next point is this: The religion of the future, because it will be the religion of the Spirit, will seek more earnestly and more thoroughly than has ever been done before to embody itself in act and deed. They that worship God must worship Him in spirit and in reality; must translate spirit into visible good, just as you translate thought into spoken or written word. Neither the religion of cultus nor the religion of dogma is of necessity moral. Morality may be and, we may most thankfully admit, has been superadded to them, but morality is not of this essence. But morality, being conformity to the laws of man's relationship to God, his fellow man, and himself, must be of the very essence of the religion of the Spirit.

The religion of the Spirit will seek most earnestly to establish right relations between men. It will not rest satisfied with merely negatively morality, "Thou shalt not steal," "Thou shalt not commit adultery." But it will seek after positive justice, positive mercy. It will be altruistic. It will refuse to be happy while any part of the social organism is compelled to live in unsanitary conditions, is condemned to a life of ceaseless grinding toil, has no vocations that are wholesome and elevating.

The prime virtue of the religion of dogma is assent.

But the prime virtue of the religion of the Spirit is love.

We shall call no man atheist who loves his fellow man. But no matter what he professes to be, we shall regard him as atheist who does not love his fellow man. "For he that loveth not his brother man whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen?" The religion of the Spirit will greatly prefer a Charles Darwin to a Charles II.

The religion of the Spirit will bring to an end the long conflict between science and theology. Theology will frankly admit that science has earnestly and purely sought after truth, and endeavored to translate truth into action. But all truth is of God. Science in its reverence for law, in its faith that this is an intelligible universe, is truly and deeply religious. It is the ally, not the enemy, of the religion in spirit and truth.

The religion of the Spirit will bring to an end divisions of Christendom. We shall see that variety of worship and thought is consistent with the Unity of the Spirit. Truly it will perceive that all variety that springs out of an honest and sincere mind and heart enriches religion, adds to its strength and its beauty, just as the one energy of the universe unfolds and manifests itself in endless forms of entrancing beauty.

Two principles will underlie this new unity, this transformed catholic church. The principle of liberty, which will give variety, richness, and beauty — the centrifugal force of the spiritual world; and the spirit of love, which will bind together into one communion and fellowship all the varieties of worships and believers. Love is the centripetal force of the spiritual world.

IV. And in this religion of the Spirit, what is to be the place of worship and doctrine?

Worship! What is it? Is it the groveling of man before a Deity who longs for flattery? Is it the attempt to bribe a Deity with forms and ceremonies? The prophets Isaiah and Micah answered that question long since.

Shall we not say that it is the going out of the infinite part of ourselves in adoration and love to the infinite source of all things? Shall we not seek by worship to be purified from low thinking, and to be inspired to high thinking? Shall we not hope to gain from it an infinite desire to be holy, desires and longings which shall he translated into deeds on every day of the week? Perchance to those worshiping thus in spirit there shall be revealed, as once many hundred of years ago there was revealed to a youth, a student, the Lord, high and mighty sitting upon His throne, and they shall hear, as He heard, the seraphim crying, Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of Hosts, the fulness of the whole earth is the glory of Jehovah! And out of that vision may there come, as there came to Isaiah, the call to live for infinite ends — to do the will of God among men on earth. Worship is no worship that does not lead to action.

And doctrine? Doctrine will continue just as worship will continue; only it will not be dogma, opinions to which men are compelled to assent, whether they understand them or not. Doctrine is the presentation of what the thinker, the student, the teacher, believes to be true; and believing it to be true and beautiful, will yet only ask men to accept so far as they themselves perceive it to be true and beautiful. We shall no more seek to compel men to be orthodox than we now compel them to worship in this way or that way, or than we seek to compel a man to love his neighbor as himself.

Christianity may have long to live in human society before it attains to its ideal; but we are not therefore of despair. This religion of Spirit and of truth, which I have so inadequately sought to set forth, is already in the world. There is no reason why we should be despond or pessimistic. Optimism is to some extent, no doubt, a matter of temperament. Yet I think the optimist can give good reason for the hope and faith that are in him — the faith that we are living in a truth-loving and liberty-loving age. And truth and liberty are of the essence of that God who is a Spirit. Looking back twenty-five years it is not difficult to detect a growing reverence for the religious side of human experience, so that the beautiful aspiration of one of the poet prophets of the nineteenth century is even now being fulfilled.

"Let knowledge grow more to more,
But more of reverence in us dwell,
That mind and heart, according
May make one music as before."

—The Fryeburg Post, Fryeburg, Maine, Sept. 12, 1916, p. 5.

Note: The phrase in brackets I supplied, since a few words were missing in the original newspaper.