The fall of man is disputed by some who seem to find more satisfaction in the belief that they have risen from the brute and, therefore, are superior to their ancestors, than they do in the thought that man has fallen from a higher estate. But the facts do not support the brute theory. Even if the "missing links" could be found, it would be as reasonable--though not so flattering to man's pride--to believe that the monkey is a degenerate man as that man is an improved monkey.

It has often been pointed out as evidence of man's fall that he is the only created thing that does not live up to his possibilities. In plant and bird and beast there is no disobedience--all fulfill the purpose of their creation, from the flower, that puts forth its bloom as perfectly when it "wastes its sweetness on the desert air" as when in the garden its beauty calls forth expressions of delight, to the bird that wakes the echoes of trackless forests with its melody. Man, only man, mocks his Maker by prost.i.tuting to evil the powers that might lift him within sight of the throne of G.o.d.

If so many men and women fall _now_, in spite of light and love and all the incentives to n.o.ble living, is it incredible that the first pair should have fallen when the race was young? Possibility becomes probability when we remember that the conflict that rages between the mind and the heart is the one real conflict in every life. Reason versus faith is the great issue to-day as in Eden. Faith says obey; reason asks, Why? The one looks up confidingly to a Power above; the other relies on self and rejects even the authority of Jehovah unless the finite mind can comprehend the plan of the Infinite.

No one will doubt the doctrine of original sin if he will study nature and then a.n.a.lyze himself. In the plant, in the animal and in the physical man, the invisible thing which we call life is the only sustaining force; when it takes its flight, that which remains falls back to the earth and becomes dust. And so the spiritual in man is the only force that can give him a moral nature and preserve it from decay; when his spiritual life departs the mind as well as the body rots.

Some find a stumbling block in the doctrine of the Atonement. That one should suffer for others, shocks their sense of justice, they say, and yet that is the law of life. Each generation borrows from generations past and pays the debt to the generations that follow. A certain percentage of the mothers die in childbirth--evidence that they are G.o.d's handiwork is found in the fact they so willingly enter the valley of the shadow of death to attain to motherhood. Many a boy has been won back to rect.i.tude by the sorrows of a parent; we are not infrequently healed by the stripes that fall on others. In fact, great wrongs are seldom righted without the shedding of innocent blood--one dies and a mult.i.tude are saved. These do not always ill.u.s.trate the voluntary laying down of life but there are enough cases of n.o.ble surrender of self for a friend or for the public to make it easy for any one to understand how Christ could take upon Himself the sins of the world and become man's intercessor with the Father. Winning hearts through love expressed in sacrifice, is that strange? On the contrary, it is the only way. It is because the story of Jesus is a natural one that it has touched mankind.

Hearts understand each other. The heart, says Pascal, has reasons that the mind does not understand because the heart is of an infinitely higher character.

The sacrificial character of Christ's death and the atoning power of His blood are the basis of the New Testament. To discard this doctrine is to reject the plainest teachings of the Apostles and the words of Christ Himself.

Peter, than whom there is no higher human authority, says (1 Peter 2:24): "Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree, that we, being dead to sins, should live unto righteousness; by whose stripes ye were healed."

John, the Beloved, speaks as clearly on this subject (John 3:16-17): "For G.o.d so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him, should not perish, but have everlasting life. For G.o.d sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved." Paul was equally emphatic; he says (1 Cor. 2:2): "For I determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ and him crucified." And again (1 Cor. 1:30): "But of him are ye in Christ Jesus who of G.o.d is made unto us wisdom and righteousness, and sanctification and redemption."

But we have higher authority still--we have the words of Christ Himself.

At the last supper, with His disciples about Him, He spoke of His blood being "shed for many for the remission of sins."

It is the story of His sacrifice for others--of His blood shed that the world might through Him find forgiveness--that has been understood by the unlettered as well as by scholars and has brought millions to the foot of the cross. Even those who have not been in position to compare His code of morals with the teachings of others have been able to comprehend a plan of salvation by which one died for all and all find forgiveness in His sacrifice. It is this Gospel that has made it possible for the forgiven sinner to go forth to begin a new life, no longer under conviction of sin and remembering his past only as an incentive to service.

The presence of Judas at the Last Supper has been the cause of much speculation throughout the centuries. The indignation of Christians is stirred at the thought of a traitor being present on this solemn occasion when Christ inst.i.tuted one of the great sacraments of the Church. The Saviour not only knew what Judas was about to do but called attention to it and designated the guilty one, but there was no appearance of the anger which would be natural in a mortal; He knew the plan of salvation.

But why should the betrayal have come from one of the twelve? It is not necessary to find a satisfactory answer to all the questions that may arise from the reading of the Bible, and the finite mind should not be discouraged if it fails to fathom the reasons of the Infinite Intelligence. If there are mysteries in the Bible that we cannot unravel they are not greater than the mysteries in nature with which we must deal whether we understand them or not.

But I venture to suggest one _effect_, produced by the fact that one of the twelve proved a traitor, namely, the scrutiny that it has compelled millions of Christians to turn upon themselves. "Lord, is it I?" each of the disciples anxiously inquired. Even Judas himself, coerced by the action of the others, asked, "Master, is it I?" So, to-day, there is real betrayal of the Saviour by some who take His name upon them and before the world profess to be His followers. If Judas had been an outsider and had sold for money the knowledge he had gained as a looker-on his name would not have become, as the name of Judas has, a synonym for all that is base and contemptible; and the Christian world would have been without the benefit of that glaring act of perfidy that has sounded its warning through nineteen centuries. Judas sold the Saviour for money, just as many a professing Christian since then has, for money, betrayed the Master. Who will calculate the restraint that that one question, "Lord, is it I?" has exerted upon Christ's followers in the hour when some great temptation has made the believer hesitate upon the brink of sin?

I will not attempt to enumerate all the ways in which Christ has and can bless mankind, but the living spring has taught me one way. The spring is the best ill.u.s.tration of the Christian life, just as a stagnant pool is the best ill.u.s.tration of a selfish life. The pool receives but gives forth nothing in return and, at last, becomes the center of disease and death. There is nothing more repulsive than the stagnant pool except a life built upon that plan. The spring, on the other hand, pours forth constantly of that which refreshes and invigorates and asks for nothing.

There is nothing more inspiring than a living spring except the life that it resembles.

And why is the spring a spring? Because _it is connected with a source that is higher than itself_. Christ brings man into such vital, living contact with G.o.d that the goodness of G.o.d flows out to the world through him. The frailest human being can thus become of inestimable value to society. It is only spiritual power, received from above, that counts largely. If we measure man in units of physical power he is not much above the beasts; if we measure him in units of intellectual power we soon reach his limitations, but when we measure him in units of spiritual power his strength may be beyond human calculations. If, as was the case in Wales, the prayer of a little girl could start a revival that spread over that country, resulting in the conversion of thousands, what can a life accomplish if one's heart is full of love to G.o.d and man?

The wisdom of Christ could not have been supplied by others; there were none to supply it. There was no source but the inexhaustible fountain of the Almighty from which to draw that which He gave forth "as one having authority." "Who among His Apostles or proselytes," asks John Stuart Mill, "was capable of inventing the sayings ascribed to Jesus or of imagining the life and character revealed in the Gospels?"

No person, less than divine, could have carried the message or rendered the service He did to mankind. How, for instance, could He have learned from His own experience or from His environment the startling proposition that He embodied in His interpretation of The Parable of the Sower? "The care of this world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the truth," and yet in that short sentence He gave an epitome of all human history. Reforms come up from the oppressed, not down from the oppressors--a fact which Christ explains in a word.

He announced the divine order: "Seek ye _first_ the kingdom of G.o.d and his righteousness." Duty to G.o.d comes _first_--all other things that are good for us will come in due time.

His parables stand alone in literature; they have no parallel in the expression of great truths with beauty and simplicity through object lessons taken from every-day life. These truths covered a wide range and were embedded in the language of the parable because of the unbelief of that day. They are increasingly appreciated as their practical application to all time becomes more and more manifest.

The parable of the Prodigal Son is the most beautiful story of its kind ever told and is based on an experience through which nearly every person pa.s.ses, but few of whom, fortunately, carry the spirit of rebellion to the point of leaving home. At that period which marks the transition from youth to maturity--from dependence on others to self-reliance--rebelliousness is likely to be exhibited to a greater or less extent even where the parents have done everything possible for the child. Christ takes an extreme case where the wisdom and experience of the father were scorned; where a wilful son insisted upon learning for himself of the things against which the father had warned him. He was of age; parental authority could no longer be exerted for his protection.

He had his way, and as long as his money lasted he found plenty of a.s.sociates willing to help him spend it; the "boys" had what the wicked call "a good time." Then came the sobering up, the repentance, the humility, the return, the father's welcome, the very natural complaint of the other son and the parental rebuke--all so lifelike and all designed to give emphasis to the love of the Heavenly Father and the joy in Heaven when a wanderer returns. How many souls it has awakened! The thought has been beautifully translated into song by Rev. Robt. Lowry, in "Where Is My Wandering Boy To-night?" which has probably touched more hearts than any sermon delivered since the song was written in 1877.

In pa.s.sing, note the contrast between the Rich Young Man and the Prodigal Son. The former, an exemplary youth, is lost because he put the love of money first--we see his back as he retires into oblivion. The latter, a reckless sinner, repentant and forgiven; we leave him at a banquet, happy with father and friends who rejoice that one who "was dead is alive again."

The parable of The Talents has shamed a mult.i.tude into activity, while the parable of The Vineyard has been an encouragement to those who have neglected early calls to service. He used the great preservative, salt, to ill.u.s.trate the saving influence His followers would exert on society and warned them not to lose this quality. He likened them to a city set on a hill and to the light that illumines the entire house.

Christ gave the world a philosophy that fits into every human need; He sounded all the depths. In the first and third of the Beat.i.tudes He exalts humility--a virtue difficult to cultivate, and even to retain after one has cultivated it. Some one has suggested that pride is such an insidious sin that the humble sometimes become proud of their humility. Christ sets two prizes before the humble--the poor in spirit are to have the Kingdom of Heaven for their recompense while the meek are to be given the earth for their inheritance.

The mourners are to be comforted and the merciful are to obtain mercy.

Righteousness is to be the reward of those who hunger and thirst after it, and the peacemakers are to be crowned with one of the most honourable of appellations, the children of G.o.d.

He devotes double s.p.a.ce to those who are reviled and persecuted for His sake, foreseeing the fierce opposition which His Gospel would arouse. In the study of the Beat.i.tudes one Sunday, I asked the members of an adult cla.s.s which they considered first in importance. Although there was quite a wide difference in preference, the Sixth, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see G.o.d," received the highest vote. And what can be more important than the cleansing of the heart of all that obstructs one's view of G.o.d? The Creator is equally near to all His creatures--He is no respecter of persons. It is man's fault if he allows anything to come between himself and the Heavenly Father. Surely, nothing is more to be desired than the unclouded vision. "Thou shalt have no other G.o.ds before me," is the first of the Commandments brought down from Sinai and its primacy is endorsed by the Saviour: the sixth Beat.i.tude expresses the same supreme requirement. No false G.o.ds, not even self--the most popular of all the false G.o.ds--must be permitted to come between man and his Maker.

Christ put into simple words some of the great rules for the interpretation of life. "By their fruits ye shall know them," has become a part of the language of the civilized world. "Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles?" He asks. "A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit." Here a great spiritual principle was announced. We must consider the _nature;_ nothing less than a change in the nature can change the fruit. A bad heart is just as sure to bring forth bad thoughts and bad deeds as the thistle is to bring forth thorns. And so the good heart is just as sure to yield good deeds as the grape-vine is to yield grapes or the fig-tree is to yield figs. Look at the _tree_, therefore; the fruit will take care of itself.

In the Sermon on the Mount, in which He embodied such a wealth of moral precept and spiritual counsel, He warned against investments in that which would divert the affections from the great purpose of life. "Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven." "For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." It was the heart that He dealt with--always the heart, in which man does his decisive thinking and out of which are "the issues of life."

The Master dealt with the beginnings of evil. He did not wait until the sin had been completed or the wrong accomplished. He cut out the bad purpose at its birth before it had time to develop. He says:

And if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into h.e.l.l. And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into h.e.l.l (Matt. 3: 29).

This may seem like a harsh doctrine and yet it is merely an application to morals of a salutary principle that all understand when applied by the surgeon. A finger is often removed in order to save the hand; a hand is removed to save the arm; and an arm is removed to save the body. An eye, too, is often removed to save the sight of the remaining eye. Is eye or arm or body more important than the soul?

Christ understood relative values in the spiritual world. He used the material things in life to ill.u.s.trate values in the realm of the ideal; He used the things that are seen to make understandable the eternal things that the senses cannot comprehend.

And what called forth this powerful ill.u.s.tration--the sacrificing of the right eye and the right hand to save the body? He was laying the foundation for a great moral reform, namely, the single standard of morality. He was attacking a great sin and, as usual, He laid the axe at the root of the tree. He was dealing with adultery and He traced the sin to its source. He would purge the heart of the unclean thought; He would put a ban on the desire before it found vent in accomplishment. He turned the thought from the body to the heart and to the soul.

And He not only warned men against harbouring the seeds of this sin but He rebuked them for injustice in dealing more harshly with woman than they did with themselves. He did not condone sin; He forgave it, and accompanied forgiveness with the injunction, "Sin no more."

Christ dignified childhood next to womanhood. One of His most beautiful lessons was woven about a child which He summoned from the crowd. The child's faith was made the test--"Except ye be converted and become as little children ye shall not enter into the kingdom." And again, "Suffer the little children to come unto me and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of heaven."

His depth of affection--His longing for souls--is beautifully set forth in Matthew 23: 37 when He uses the most familiar object in the animal kingdom to express His solicitude: "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not!"

And yet this gentle spirit who would not break a bruised reed--who went about doing good--was wont to blaze forth with hot indignation against sordidness and systematized injustice. Hear His fierce denunciation of the "scribes, Pharisees and hypocrites" who devoured widows' houses and for a pretense made long prayers; and behold Him casting the money-changers out of the temple because they had turned the house of prayer into a den of thieves.

In a startling paradox He sets forth a great truth: "Whosoever shall save his life shall lose it; but whosoever shall lose his life for my sake, the same shall save it." When, before or since, has the littleness of the self-centered been so exposed and the n.o.bility of self-surrender been so glorified? Wendell Phillips has given a splendid paraphrase of this wonderful utterance. He says, "How prudently most men sink into nameless graves, while now and then a few forget themselves into immortality."

But the one doctrine which more than any other distinguished His teachings from those of uninspired instructors, is forgiveness. Time and again He brings it forward and lays emphasis upon it. In the very beginning of His ministry He drew a contrast between the perverted morals of that day and the spiritual life into which He would lead them (Matt. 5):

Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you; That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven, for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust. For if ye love them which love you, what reward have ye? Do not even the publicans the same? And if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye more than others? Do not even the publicans so? Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.

A little later, He embodies the thought in the Lord's Prayer--"Forgive us our trespa.s.ses as we forgive those who trespa.s.s against us." He follows that with a scathing arraignment of the cruel servant, who, having been forgiven a debt almost incalculable in amount, refused to forgive a small debt due to him. Even when in agony upon the cross the thought of forgiveness was uppermost in the Saviour's heart and He prayed: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do!"

He was not thinking of relief to wrong-doers when He made forgiveness a cardinal principle in the moral code that He promulgated. It was not, I am persuaded, to shield from just punishment one who does injury to another, but to save the injured from the paralyzing influence of the thirst for revenge. It is only rarely that one has an opportunity to retaliate, but the desire for retaliation is a soul-destroying disease.

Christ would purge the heart of hatred and make love the law of life.

Christianity has been called "The Gospel of the Second Chance"; it is more than that. There is no limit to the chances that it offers to the repentant. When Christ was asked whether one should forgive a brother seven times He answered, "Seventy times seven." Christianity is the only hope of the discouraged and the despondent. Walter Malone has put into a poem ent.i.tled "Opportunity" the exhaustless mercy that Christ holds out to men. I quote the concluding stanzas:

Though deep in mire, wring not your hands and weep: I lend my arm to all who say "I can"; No shamefaced outcast ever sank so deep But he might rise and be again a man!

Dost thou behold thy lost youth all aghast?

Dost reel from righteous retribution's blow?

Then turn from blotted archives of the past, And find the future's pages white as snow.

Art thou a mourner? Rouse thee from thy spell; Art thou a sinner? Sins may be forgiven.

Each morning gives thee wings to flee from h.e.l.l, Each night a star to guide thy feet to heaven.