Christianity and Greek Philosophy Part 8

Now that which limits and conditions human self-consciousness can not be mere _nature_, because nature can not give what it does not possess; it can not produce what is _toto genere_ different from itself.

Self-consciousness can not arise out of unconsciousness. This new beginning is beyond the power of nature. Personal power, the creative principle of all new beginnings, is alone adequate to its production.

If, then, self-consciousness exists in man, it necessarily presupposes an absolutely _original_, therefore _unconditioned, self-consciousness_.

Human self-consciousness, in its temporal actualization, of course presupposes a nature-basis upon which it elevates itself; but it is only possible on the ground that an eternal self-conscious Mind ordained and rules over all the processes of nature, and implants the divine spark of the personal spirit with the corporeal frame, to realize itself in the light-flame of human self-consciousness. The original light of the divine self-consciousness is eternally and absolutely first and before all. "Thus, in the depths of our own self-consciousness, as its concealed background, the G.o.d-consciousness reveals itself to us. This descent into our inmost being is at the same time an ascent to G.o.d.

Every deep reflection on ourselves breaks through the mere crust of world-consciousness, which separates us from the inmost truth of our existence, and leads us up to Him in whom we live and move and are."[115]

[Footnote 115: Muller, "Christian Doctrine of Sin," vol. i. p. 81.]

Self-determination, equally with self-consciousness, exists in us under manifold _limitations_. Self-determination is limited by physical, corporeal, and mental conditions, so that there is "an impa.s.sable boundary line drawn around the area of volitional freedom." But the most fundamental and original limitation is that of _duty_. The self-determining power of man is not only circ.u.mscribed by necessary conditions, but also by the _moral law_ in the consciousness of man.

Self-determination alone does not suffice for the full conception of responsible freedom; it only becomes, _will_, properly by its being an intelligent and conscious determination; that is, the rational subject is able previously to recognize "the right," and present before his mind that which he _ought_ to do, that which he is morally bound to realize and actualize by his own self-determination and choice. Accordingly we find in our inmost being a _sense of obligation_ to obey the moral law as revealed in the conscience. As we can not become conscious of self without also becoming conscious of G.o.d, so we can not become properly conscious of self-determination until we have recognized in the conscience a law for the movements of the will.

Now this moral law, as revealed in the conscience, is not a mere autonomy--a simple subjective law having no relation to a personal lawgiver out of and above man. Every admonition of conscience directly excites the consciousness of a G.o.d to whom man is accountable. The universal consciousness of our race, as revealed in history, has always a.s.sociated the phenomena of conscience with the idea of a personal Power above man, to whom he is subject and upon whom he depends. In every age, the voice of conscience has been regarded as the voice of G.o.d, so that when it has filled man with guilty apprehensions, he has had recourse to sacrifices, and penances, and prayers to expatiate his wrath.

It is clear, then, that if man has _duties_ there must he a self-conscious Will by whom these duties are imposed, for only a real will can be legislative. If man has a _sense of obligation_, there must be a supreme authority by which he is obliged. If he is _responsible_, there must be a being to whom he is accountable.[116] It can not be said that he is accountable to himself, for by that supposition the idea of duty is obliterated, and "right" becomes identical with mere interest or pleasure. It can not be said that he is simply responsible to society--to mere conventions of human opinions and human governments--for then "_right_" becomes a mere creature of human legislation, and "_justice_" is nothing but the arbitrary will of the strong who tyrannize over the weak. Might const.i.tutes right. Against such hypotheses the human mind, however, instinctively revolts. Mankind feel, universally, that there is an authority beyond all human governments, and a higher law above all human laws, from whence all their powers are derived. That higher law is the Law of G.o.d, that supreme authority is the G.o.d of Justice. To this eternally just G.o.d, innocence, under oppression and wrong, has made its proud appeal, like that of Prometheus to the elements, to the witnessing clouds, to coming ages, and has been sustained and comforted. And to that higher law the weak have confidently appealed against the unrighteous enactments of the strong, and have finally conquered. The last and inmost ground of all obligation is thus the conscious relation of the moral creature to G.o.d.

The sense of absolute dependence upon a Supreme Being compels man, even while conscious of subjective freedom, to recognize at the same time his obligation to determine himself in harmony with the will of Him "in whom we live, and move, and are."

[Footnote 116: "The thought of G.o.d will wake up a terrible monitor whose name is Judge."--Kant.]

This feeling of dependence, and this consequent sense of obligation, lie at the very foundation of all religion. They lead the mind towards G.o.d, and anchor it in the Divine. They prompt man to pray, and inspire him with an instinctive confidence in the efficacy of prayer. So that prayer is natural to man, and necessary to man. Never yet has the traveller found a people on earth without prayer. Races of men have been found without houses, without raiment, without arts and sciences, but never without prayer any more than without speech. Plutarch wrote, eighteen centuries ago, If you go through all the world, you may find cities without walls, without letters, without rulers, without money, without theatres, but never without temples and G.o.ds, or without _prayers_, oaths, prophecies, and sacrifices, used to obtain blessings and benefits, or to avert curses and calamities.[117] The naturalness of prayer is admitted even by the modern unbeliever. Gerrit Smith says, "Let us who believe that the religion of reason calls for the religion of nature, remember that the flow of prayer is just as natural as the flow of water; the prayerless man has become an unnatural man."[118] Is man in sorrow or in danger, his most natural and spontaneous refuge is in prayer. The suffering, bewildered, terror-stricken soul turns towards G.o.d. "Nature in an agony is no atheist; the soul that knows not where to fly, flies to G.o.d." And in the hour of deliverance and joy, a feeling of grat.i.tude pervades the soul--and grat.i.tude, too, not to some blind nature-force, to some unconscious and impersonal power, but grat.i.tude to G.o.d. The soul's natural and appropriate language in the hour of deliverance is thanksgiving and praise.

[Footnote 117: "Against Kalotes," ch. x.x.xi.]

[Footnote 118: "Religion of Reason."]

This universal tendency to recognize a superior Power upon whom we are dependent, and by whose hand our well-being and our destinies are absolutely controlled, has revealed itself even amid the most complicated forms of polytheistic wors.h.i.+p. Amid the even and undisturbed flow of every-day life they might be satisfied with the wors.h.i.+p of subordinate deities, but in the midst of sudden and unexpected calamities, and of terrible catastrophes, then they cried to the Supreme G.o.d.[119] "When alarmed by an earthquake," says Aulus Gellius, "the ancient Romans were accustomed to pray, not to some one of the G.o.ds individually, but to G.o.d in general, _as to the Unknown_."[120]

[Footnote 119: "At critical moments, when the deepest feelings of the human heart are stirred, the old Greeks and Romans seem suddenly to have dropped all mythological ideas, and to have fallen back on the universal language of true religion."--Max Muller, "Science of Language." p. 436.]

[Footnote 120: Tholuck, "Nature and Influence of Heathenism," p. 23.]

"Thus also Minutius Felix says, 'When they stretch out their hands to heaven they mention only G.o.d; and these forms of speech, _He is great_, and _G.o.d is true_, and _If G.o.d grant_(which are the natural language of the vulgar), are a plain confession of the truth of Christianity.' And also Lactantius testifies, 'When they swear, and when they wish, and when they give thanks, they name not many G.o.ds, but G.o.d only; the truth, by a secret force of nature, thus breaking forth from them whether they will or no;' and again he says, 'They fly to G.o.d; aid is desired of G.o.d; they pray that G.o.d would help them; and when one is reduced to extreme necessity, he begs for G.o.d's sake, and by his divine power alone implores the mercy of men.'"[121] The account which is given by Diogenes Laertius[122] of the erection of altars bearing the inscription "to the unknown G.o.d," clearly shows that they had their origin in this general sentiment of dependence on a higher Power. "The Athenians being afflicted with pestilence invited Epimenides to l.u.s.trate their city. The method adopted by him was to carry several sheep to the Areopagus, whence they were left to wander as they pleased, under the observation of persons sent to attend them. As each sheep lay down it was sacrificed to _the propitious G.o.d_. By this ceremony it is said the city was relieved; but as it was still unknown what deity was propitious, an altar was erected _to the unknown G.o.d_ on every spot where a sheep had been sacrificed."[123]

[Footnote 121: Cudworth, vol. i. p. 300.]

[Footnote 122: "Lives of Philosophers," book i., Epimenides.]

[Footnote 123: See Townsend's "Chronological Arrangement of New Testament," note 19, part xii.; Doddridge's "Exposition;" and Barnes's "Notes on Acts."]

"The unknown G.o.d" was their deliverer from the plague. And the erection of an altar to him was a confession of their absolute dependence upon him, of their obligation to wors.h.i.+p him, as well as of their need of a deeper knowledge of him. The G.o.ds who were known and named were not able to deliver them in times of calamity, and they were compelled to look beyond the existing forms of Grecian mythology for relief. Beyond all the G.o.ds of the Olympus there was "one G.o.d over all," the Father of G.o.ds and men, the Creator of all the subordinate local deities, upon whom even these created G.o.ds were dependent, upon whom man was absolutely dependent, and therefore in times of deepest need, of severest suffering, of extremest peril, then they cried to the living, supreme, eternal G.o.d.[124]

[Footnote 124: "The men and women of the Iliad and Odyssey are habitually religious. The language of religion is often on their tongues, as it is ever on the lips of every body in the East at this day. The thought of the G.o.ds, and of their providence and government of the world, is a familiar thought. They seem to have an abiding conviction of their _dependence_ on the G.o.ds. The results of all actions depend on the will of the G.o.ds; _it lies on their knees_ (?e?? ??

????as? ?e?ta?, Od. i. 267), is the often repeated and significant expression of their feeling of dependence."--Tyler, "Theology of Greek Poets," p. 165.]

3. The Athenians developed in a high degree those religious emotions which always accompany the consciousness of dependence on a Supreme Being.

The first emotional element of all religion is _fear_. This is unquestionably true, whether religion be considered from a Christian or a heathen stand-point. "The _fear_ of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom." a.s.sociated with, perhaps preceding, all definite ideas of G.o.d, there exists in the human mind certain feelings of _awe_, and _reverence_, and _fear_ which arise spontaneously in presence of the vastness, and grandeur, and magnificence of the universe, and of the power and glory of which the created universe is but the symbol and shadow. There is the felt apprehension that, beyond and back of the visible and the tangible, there is a _personal, living Power_, which is the foundation of all, and which fas.h.i.+ons all, and fills all with its light and life; that "the universe is the living vesture in which the Invisible has robed his mysterious loveliness." There is the feeling of an _overshadowing Presence_ which "compa.s.seth man behind and before, and lays its hand upon him."

This wonderful presentiment of an invisible power and presence pervading and informing all nature is beautifully described by Wordsworth in his history of the development of the Scottish herdsman's mind:

So the foundations of his mind were laid In such communion, not from terror free.

While yet a child, and long before his time, Had he perceived the presence and the power Of greatness; and deep feelings had impressed So vividly great objects, that they lay Upon his mind like substances, whose presence Perplexed the bodily sense.

... In the after-day Of boyhood, many an hour in caves forlorn, And 'mid the hollow depths of naked crags, He sat, and even in their fixed lineaments, Or from the power of a peculiar eye, Or by creative feeling overborne, Or by predominance of thought oppressed, Even in their fixed and steady lineaments He traced an ebbing and a flowing mind....

Such was the Boy,--but for the growing Youth, What soul was his, when, from the naked top Of some bold headland, he beheld the sun Rise up, and bathe the world in light! He looked: Ocean and earth, the solid frame of earth And ocean's liquid ma.s.s, in gladness lay Beneath him; far and wide the clouds were touched.

And in their silent faces could he read Unutterable love. Sound needed none, Nor any voice of joy; his spirit drank The spectacle: sensation, soul, and form All melted into him; they swallowed up His animal being; in them did he live, And by them did he live; they were his life, In such access of mind, in such high hour Of visitation from the living G.o.d.[125]

But it may be said this is all mere poetry; to which we answer, in the words of Aristotle, "Poetry is a thing more philosophical and weightier than history."[126] The true poet is the interpreter of nature. His soul is in the fullest sympathy with the grand ideas which nature symbolizes, and he "deciphers the universe as the autobiography of the Infinite Spirit." Spontaneous feeling is a kind of inspiration.

It is true that all minds may not be developed in precisely the same manner as Wordsworth's herdsman's, because the development of every individual mind is modified in some measure by exterior conditions. Men may contemplate nature from different points of view. Some may be impressed with one aspect of nature, some with another. But none will fail to recognize a mysterious _presence_ and invisible _power_ beneath all the fleeting and changeful phenomena of the universe. "And sometimes there are moments of tenderness, of sorrow, and of vague mystery which bring the feeling of the Infinite Presence close to the human heart."[127]

[Footnote 125: "The Wanderer."]

[Footnote 126: Poet, ch. ix.]

[Footnote 127: Robertson.]

Now we hold that _this feeling and sentiment of the Divine_--the supernatural--exists in every mind. It may be, it undoubtedly is, somewhat modified in its manifestations by the circ.u.mstances in which men are placed, and the degree of culture they have enjoyed. The African Fetichist, in his moral and intellectual debas.e.m.e.nt, conceives a supernatural power enshrined in every object of nature. The rude Fijian regards with dread, and even terror, the Being who darts the lightnings and wields the thunderbolts. The Indian "sees G.o.d in clouds, and hears him in the wind." The Scottish "herdsman" on the lonely mountain-top "feels the presence and the power of greatness," and "in its fixed and steady lineaments he sees an ebbing and a flowing mind." The philosopher[128] lifts his eyes to "the starry heavens" in all the depth of their concave, and with all their constellations of glory moving on in solemn grandeur, and, to his mind, these immeasurable regions seem "filled with the splendors of the Deity, and crowded with the monuments of his power;" or he turns his eye to "the Moral Law within," and he hears the voice of an intelligent and a righteous G.o.d. In all these cases we have a revelation of the sentiment of the Divine, which dwells alike in all human minds. In the Athenians this sentiment was developed in a high degree. The serene heaven which Greece enjoyed, and which was the best-loved roof of its inhabitants, the brilliant sun, the mountain scenery of unsurpa.s.sed grandeur, the deep blue sea, an image of the infinite, these poured all their fullness on the Athenian mind, and furnished the most favorable conditions for the development of the religious sentiments. The people of Athens spent most of their time in the open air in communion with nature, and in the cheerful and temperate enjoyment of existence. To recognize the Deity in the living powers of nature, and especially in man, as the highest sensible manifestation of the Divine, was the peculiar prerogative of the Grecian mind. And here in Athens, art also vied with nature to deepen the religious sentiments.

It raised the mind to ideal conceptions of a beauty and a sublimity which transcended all mere nature-forms, and by images, of supernatural grandeur and loveliness presented to the Athenians symbolic representations of the separate attributes and operations of the invisible G.o.d. The plastic art of Greece was designed to express religious ideas, and was consecrated by religious feeling. Thus the facts of the case are strikingly in harmony with the words of the Apostle: "All things which I behold bear witness to your carefulness in religion," your "reverence for the Deity," your "fear of G.o.d."[129] "The sacred objects" in Athens, and especially "the altar to the Unknown G.o.d," were all regarded by Paul as evidences of their instinctive faith in the invisible, the supernatural, the divine.

[Footnote 128: Kant, in "Critique of Practical Reason."]

[Footnote 129: See Parkhurst's Lexicon, under _?e?s?da????a_, which Suidas explains by e???e?a pe?? t? ?e???--_reverence for the Divine_, and Hesychius by F?????a--_fear of G.o.d_. Also, Josephus, Antiq., book x. ch. iii, -- 2: "Mana.s.seh, after his repentance and reformation, strove to behave himself (t? de?s?da????a ???s?a?) in the _most religious manner_ towards G.o.d." Also see A. Clarke on Acts xvii.]

Along with this sentiment of the Divine there is also a.s.sociated, in all human minds, an _instinctive yearning_ after the Invisible; not a mere feeling of curiosity to pierce the mystery of being and of life, but what Paul designates "a feeling after G.o.d," which prompts man to seek after a deeper knowledge, and a more immediate consciousness. To attain this deeper knowledge--this more conscious realization of the being and the presence of G.o.d, has been the effort of all philosophy and all religion in all ages. The Hindoo Yogis proposes to withdraw into his inmost self, and by a complete suspension of all his active powers to become absorbed and swallowed up in the Infinite.[130] Plato and his followers sought by an immediate abstraction to apprehend "the unchangeable and permanent Being," and, by a loving contemplation, to become "a.s.similated to the Deity," and in this way to attain the immediate consciousness of G.o.d. The Neo-Platonic mystic sought by asceticism and self-mortification to prepare himself for divine communings. He would contemplate the divine perfections in himself; and in an _ecstatic_ state, wherein all individuality vanishes, he would realize a union, or ident.i.ty, with the Divine Essence.[131] While the universal Church of G.o.d, indeed, has in her purest days always taught that man may, by inward purity and a believing love, be rendered capable of spiritually apprehending, and consciously feeling, the presence of G.o.d. Some may be disposed to p.r.o.nounce this as all mere mysticism. We answer, The living internal energy of religion is always _mystical_, it is grounded in _feeling_--a "_sensus numinis_" common to humanity. It is the mysterious sentiment of the Divine; it is the prolepsis of the human spirit reaching out towards the Infinite; the living susceptibility of our spiritual nature stretching after the powers and influences of the higher world. It is upon this inner instinct of the supernatural that all religion rests. I do not say every religious idea, but whatever is positive, practical, powerful, durable, and popular. Everywhere, in all climates, in all epochs of history, and in all degrees of civilization, man is animated by the sentiment--I would rather say, the presentiment--that the world in which he lives, the order of things in the midst of which he moves, the facts which regularly and constantly succeed each other, are not _all_. In vain he daily makes discoveries and conquests in this vast universe; in vain he observes and learnedly verifies the general laws which govern it; _his thought is not inclosed in the world surrendered to his science_; the spectacle of it does not suffice his soul, it is raised beyond it; it searches after and catches glimpses of something beyond it; it aspires higher both for the universe and itself; it aims at another destiny, another master.

[Footnote 130: Vaughan, "Hours with the Mystics," vol. i. p. 44.]

[Footnote 131: Id. ib., vol. i. p. 65.]

"'Par dela tous ces cieux le Dieu des cieux reside.'"[132]

So Voltaire has said, and the G.o.d who is beyond the skies is not nature personified, but a supernatural Personality. It is to this highest Personality that all religions address themselves. It is to bring man into communion with Him that they exist.[133]

[Footnote 132: "Beyond all these heavens the G.o.d of the heavens resides."]

[Footnote 133: Guizot, "L'Eglise et la Societe Chretiennes" en 1861.]

4. The Athenians had that deep consciousness of sin and guilt, and of consequent liability to punishment, which confesses the need of expiation by piacular sacrifices.

Every man feels himself to be an accountable being, and he is conscious that in wrong-doing he is deserving of blame and of punishment. Deep within the soul of the transgressor is the consciousness that he is a guilty man, and he is haunted with the perpetual apprehension of a retribution which, like the spectre of evil omen, crosses his every path, and meets him at every turn.

"'Tis guilt alone, Like brain-sick frenzy in its feverish mode, Fills the light air with visionary terrors, And shapeless forms of fear."

Man does not possess this consciousness of guilt so much as it holds possession of him. It pursues the fugitive from justice, and it lays hold on the man who has resisted or escaped the hand of the executioner.

The sense of guilt is a power over and above man; a power so wonderful that it often compels the most reckless criminal to deliver himself up, with the confession of his deed, to the sword of justice, when a falsehood would have easily protected him. Man is only able by persevering, ever-repeated efforts at self-induration, against the remonstrances of conscience, to withdraw himself from its power. His success is, however, but very partial; for sometimes, in the moments of his greatest security, the reproaches of conscience break in upon him like a flood, and sweep away all his refuge of lies. "The evil conscience is the divine bond which binds the created spirit, even in deep apostasy, to its Original. In the consciousness of guilt there is revealed the essential relation of our spirit to G.o.d, although misunderstood by man until he has something higher than his evil conscience. The trouble and anguish which the remonstrances of this consciousness excite--the inward unrest which sometimes seizes the slave of sin--are proofs that he has not quite broken away from G.o.d."[134]

[Footnote 134: Muller, "Christian Doctrine of Sin," vol. i. pp. 225, 226.]

In Grecian mythology there was a very distinct recognition of the power of conscience, and a reference of its authority to the Divinity, together with the idea of retribution. Nemesis was regarded as the impersonation of the upbraidings of conscience, of the natural dread of punishment that springs up in the human heart after the commission of sin. And as the feeling of remorse may be considered as the consequence of the displeasure and vengeance of an offended G.o.d, Nemesis came to be regarded as the G.o.ddess of retribution, relentlessly pursuing the guilty until she has driven them into irretrievable woe and ruin. The Erinyes or Eumenides are the deities whose business it is to punish, in hades, the crimes committed upon earth. When an aggravated crime has excited their displeasure they manifest their greatest power in the disquietude of conscience.

Along with this deep consciousness of guilt, and this fear of retribution which haunts the guilty mind, there has also rested upon the heart of universal humanity a deep and abiding conviction that _something must be done to expiate the guilt of sin_--some rest.i.tution must be made, some suffering must be endured,[135] some sacrifice offered to atone for past misdeeds. Hence it is that men in all ages have had recourse to penances and prayers, to self-inflicted tortures and costly sacrifices to appease a righteous anger which their sins had excited, and avert an impending punishment. That sacrifice to atone for sin has prevailed universally--that it has been practised "_sem-per, ubique, et ab omnibus,_" always, in all places, and by all men--will not be denied by the candid and competent inquirer. The evidence which has been collected from ancient history by Grotius and Magee, and the additional evidence from contemporaneous history, which is being now furnished by the researches of ethnologists and Christian missionaries, is conclusive. No intelligent man can doubt the fact. Sacrificial offerings have prevailed in every nation and in every age. "Almost the entire wors.h.i.+p of the pagan nations consisted in rites of deprecation.