If this were not so, we could not understand Christ, nor sympathize with him. His life would be, not only supernatural, which it is, but unnatural, which it is not. His miracles would be, not what they truly are,-G.o.d's higher life flowing into nature, and the Spirit overcoming the material resistance of things,-but they would be magical; they would be like sorcery and enchantment-violations of the course of events.

All of Christ's life, then, is typical of our future lives, in this world or in some other world. It would be easy to prove this out of Scripture.

Everything a.s.serted of Christ is, somewhere and in some way, a.s.serted also of his disciples, and of all Christians. Is he said to be one with G.o.d? "I and my Father are one." They also are said to be one with G.o.d: "That they all may be one, as we are one; I in them, and thou in me. As thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us."

Was Christ said to know all things? It is also said of his disciples, "Ye have an unction from the Holy Ghost, and know all things."

Did Christ work miracles? He says to his disciples, "Greater works than these shall ye do?"

Did G.o.d give to Christ glory which he had before the world was? He himself says of his disciples, "The glory thou gavest me I have given them."

Did Christ rise from the dead into a higher life? We shall do the same.

"As we have borne the image of the earthly, we shall also bear the image of the heavenly."

Christ, in his high and perfect life, may be regarded as a prophecy of what man is to become: we may look on him as a revelation of the higher laws of human nature, as a type of all humanity.

As regards his atoning death, his reconciling sufferings, the same thing is true. As he died for man, so must we die for each other. Thus says the apostle John: "Herein is love; not that we loved G.o.d, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if G.o.d so loved us, we ought also to love one another." And again, "Because he laid down his life for us, we ought also to lay down our lives for the brethren."

And Paul, after having spoken of "Christ's having made peace by the blood of the cross," says of himself that he rejoices in his own sufferings for their sake-rejoices to "fill up that which is behind of the afflictions of Christ;" that is, make up any deficiency in Christ's sufferings for them.

"Christ's sufferings," he says elsewhere, "abound in us," his disciples.

"We are partakers of his sufferings," says the apostle Peter. If he thought Christ's sufferings entirely different in their nature and meaning from all other sufferings, he would scarcely have said that he "partook"

of them.

-- 12. This Law ill.u.s.trated from History-in the Death of Socrates, Joan of Arc, Savonarola, and Abraham Lincoln.

The death of Jesus, therefore, manifested in a higher degree the same law which is ill.u.s.trated in the deaths of all good and great souls, martyrs to a principle, or to an idea. In proportion to the greatness and universality of the idea, and the greatness and holiness of the martyr, is the impression profound. We will give a few instances of this from history, to see that the death of Jesus was not something wholly outside of law, wholly exceptional, but the highest example of the great effect produced by one who walks straight into death for a great idea.

The first instance we take shall be that of Socrates. When we think of Socrates, we think of his death. He, like Jesus, spent the time before his death conversing with his friends concerning the highest themes. He talked of immortality through the long summer day. He showed the superiority of the soul to the body in which it dwelt; and he had lost all fear of dying.

He had silenced what Plato calls "the child within us, who trembles before death." In fact, the whole tone of his defence before the judges shows that he did not care to save his life. The verdict of guilty was p.r.o.nounced by a majority of five or six, in a vote of five hundred and fifty-seven dicasts. He made no preparation for his defence, and said that a blameless life was the best defence. When he came to speak before those whose vote was to decide on his life or death, his speech seems a sort of confidential clearing of his breast of all his opinions. He declares he has been the greatest benefactor of Athens. He tells them they ought not to be offended at the resolute tone of his defence, since it would be unmanly for him to beg and plead for life; for his duty was to instruct them, but not to supplicate. It was strange that so small a majority was cast against him after such a speech. Then the custom required him to say himself what punishment he should suffer. His accuser had called for death. If he had named something less severe, as exile, fine, imprisonment, no doubt his life had been saved. Instead, he said, "I propose that I be rewarded as a public benefactor, by being supported at the public expense, as a teacher of the people. Still, as my friends wish me to name a fine, I will say thirty _minae_." They took this as an insult, and sentenced him to death. Then he spent his hours in those immortal conversations which will be remembered when all the rest of the glory and beauty of Greek literature and art has pa.s.sed away. Every moment of his last hours has been carefully recorded; and the death of Socrates gave a power to his life, and his life an influence to his death, which placed him among the names which will never perish from human memory and grat.i.tude.

There is another name, which comes out of the darkness and cruelty of the middle ages, with a sweet, serene, and n.o.ble beauty-a pure life glorified by a death of martyrdom. I mean that of Joan of Arc-the Maid of Orleans.

On her trial, the readiness and beauty of her answers astonished her prejudiced judges. The poor girl, only nineteen years old, a prisoner in chains, before these doctors and lawyers, showed as much courage as on the field of battle.

They asked why she let the people kiss her feet and garments. She answered, "The poor people came to me because I did them no wrong, and helped them when I could." "Was it well to attack Paris on Our Lady's day?" "It is well to keep the festivals of Our Lady always." "Do your saints love the English?" "They love what G.o.d loves, and hate what he hates." "Does G.o.d hate the English?" "As to his love or hate for their souls I know nothing; but I know he will drive them from France." "Can you tell whether you will escape death?" "That I leave in G.o.d's hands." When she went to death, her purity and truth had so touched men's hearts that a great tide of remorse and pity began to swell up against her persecutors.

A priest, who had played the part of Judas, and betrayed her, repented like Judas, and flung himself down before her, accusing himself of his treachery. The soldiers who stood by were melted. They said, "We have burned a saint." The executioner declared that G.o.d would never forgive him. From the day of her death, all men began to believe in her holiness and truth.

Come down to the end of the same century, and take another instance in Savonarola, the Florentine friar-the man who was at once the patriot, leading the minds of the people of Florence to republican inst.i.tutions; the reformer, seeking to root out the abuses of the Church; and the prophetic teacher, preacher, religious inspirer. He also climbed to the height of his glory on his funeral pile. As Athens was glorified by the death of Socrates, as the Maid of Orleans has been a vision of beauty in the square of Rouen, so the place in Florence where Savonarola was murdered, in front of the Palazzo Vecchio, is memorable as the scene of virtue triumphing over its enemies and over evil, when it seemed to be conquered. That day, also, will never be forgotten, when he and his two companions walked through the furious rabble to their death, calm as if to a marriage feast. Savonarola was so absorbed in the thought of the life to come, says his biographer, that he appeared already to have left the earth. He was put to death by the order of Alexander Sixth, the worst pope and worst man of modern times; but in twenty years Rafaelle was painting the monk's portrait on the walls of the Vatican by order of another pope.

So it is that death glorifies life. If John Brown had escaped from his prison, and gone to Canada, what would have been his influence? He would only have been remembered as a crazy fanatic. But now there remains in all minds the picture of the old man going quietly and peacefully to die, kissing the little negro child on the way, looking up at the surrounding hills, and admiring the beauty of the scenery. Death set its seal on his life, and so his soul became the leader of the armies of the Union, going before them to victory.

And how much, also, was Abraham Lincoln glorified by his martyr death! How he rose at once into a great figure in history-a monumental form before which enmity was silenced! All men forgot their hostility, their criticisms, their sneers-forgot that they had ever done anything but honor him. The a.s.sa.s.sin, who thought to revenge the wrongs of the southern slaveholders on Lincoln, gave to him a lasting niche in the temple of fame.

Now, we are not by any means _comparing_ the work of these persons with that of our great Master, Jesus Christ. Such is not our object. We are only pointing out the law by which a person who has devoted himself to a great cause, when he comes to die in its service, gives to that cause an immense help, and seems to sanctify and glorify the cause and himself.

There is a mystery about it which we do not fully understand,-which is not accounted for by saying that death proves a man's sincerity, and makes him a more competent witness, or that death conciliates his enemies, and puts an end to personal dislike. No; there is something more than this. When men live for a cause outside of themselves, when they labor for public objects, they are not _seen_ while they live. Those whose interests are interfered with by their action, misrepresent them, and surround them with a cloud of suspicion, jealousy, and slander. When they go to death for their cause, all these slanderous voices are hushed, and they emerge from this cloud of prejudice, and are seen as they are. They are glorified then in their cause, and their cause is glorified in them. The cause for which Socrates lived was the education of the people of Athens to truth and justice. All the Sophists were his enemies. Aristophanes ridiculed him as no other reformer has ever been ridiculed, holding him up, by his inimitable wit, to the scorn of the crowded theatre. When he died, and died in the faith, all this ended. Socrates and his great cause of justice rose at once, and drew all men to them. So Savonarola, who lived only with the purpose of helping on the triumph of pure religion in the Church, and pure liberty in the state, was mocked and abused in his life; but his death made him an undying power, and being dead, he spoke across the rapid years to Martin Luther and the reformers who came after. John Brown lived and died for universal freedom; Abraham Lincoln lived and died for the existence and deliverance of the nation. Of them, exactly as of Christ, we may say that when they died the hour came for them to be glorified. They died, and they rose again. The resurrection, in these instances, came close after the crucifixion; not seen in their cases, as is that of Jesus, by the visible eye, but essentially the same thing inwardly as his. They and their cause went _up_, instead of going down, by their death. When they were lifted up, they drew all men to them. In all such deaths, also, there is a certain atoning, reconciling influence. Death brings together, in harmony, conflicting interests; it silences hatreds, and breaks down many a part.i.tion wall of separation.(21)

The difference between Christ's death and all of these is, that Christ lived and died not merely for popular education, for patriotism, for philanthropy, but to be the power of G.o.d for the salvation of the world; to found a universal religion of love to G.o.d and man; to reveal G.o.d as a Father, not a King; to show man to man as brother. But the effect of his death, as in all these other cases, was simply to glorify his life and his cause. The same law worked in his case and in theirs, only on a higher plane, and for a vastly greater object.

We may observe that most of the pa.s.sages concerning the effect of Christ's death are from the apostle Paul. They are written thirty years after that death by one who probably had never seen him, at least never knew him. But Paul had seen the actual effect of the death of Jesus on the minds and hearts of the people. It was a reconciling effect; it did away with their hatred to his religion, and enabled them to see it, and be led by it to G.o.d. It made "those who were afar off, nigh." It made peace between man and G.o.d,-between man and man. When Jesus died, men's eyes seemed at once to open, and they saw for the first time the beauty and holiness of his life. His death, therefore, did what his life had not done. We, misled by a false theology, imagine Paul to be speaking of some transcendental transaction in the spiritual world by which the death of Jesus acted on G.o.d's mind to make him placable; whereas, in truth, he is speaking of the simple historic fact that the death of Christ did draw men to his religion, and so to G.o.d; did, therefore, bring them to see G.o.d's forgiving love; did unite them with each other. So Paul says that he "is not ashamed of the cross of Christ,"-not ashamed of the fact that Christ was hanged as a malefactor, since that very death was the power of G.o.d to bring man to salvation. It made men just, and kind, and true, and so was the power of G.o.d.

-- 13. Dr. Bushnell's View of the Atonement.

In his book, lately published, Dr. Bushnell teaches that the vicarious sacrifice of Jesus consists in his sympathy with sinners. He suffers with them and for them, as a friend suffers for a friend, or a mother for a child,-in the same way, and in no exceptional or uncommon way. He did not die officially, but naturally. He did not come here to die, but he died because he was here.

We are persuaded that this is the right view. We are sure that one day we shall all see that Christ's sufferings and death, and their influence, are as simple, as natural, as wholly in accordance with human nature, as that of any other saint or martyr; that the difference is of degree, not of kind; and Christ will go before the world, its great Redeemer and Leader, all the more certainly because one of us,-educated, as we are, by trial and sorrow; tempted as we are, but without sin; crying out, as we do, from the depths of our despair, "My G.o.d! why hast thou forsaken me?" and rising, as we do, through death to a higher life, through sorrow to a completer joy, through the pains of earth to the glories of heaven. "For it became him for whom are all things, and by whom are all things, in bringing many sons unto glory, to make the Captain of their salvation perfect through suffering; wherefore in all things it behooved him to be made like unto his brethren, that he might be a merciful High Priest; for in that he himself hath suffered, being tempted, he is able also to succor those who are tempted. For we have not a High Priest who cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, BUT WAS IN ALL POINTS TEMPTED AS WE ARE, yet without sin; who can have compa.s.sion on the ignorant, as he also himself is compa.s.sed with infirmity, and though a Son, yet learned obedience by the things he suffered."

-- 14. Results of this Discussion.

The Orthodox doctrine of the atonement contains a fact and a theory which ought to be carefully discriminated. _The fact_ a.s.serted by Orthodoxy is, that Jesus Christ has done something by means of which we obtain G.o.d's forgiveness for our sins. _The theory_ attempts to explain what is the difficulty in the way of our forgiveness, and how Christ removes it. Thus Orthodoxy attempts to answer three questions: "What?" "Why?" and "How?"

The first of these regards the fact. "_What_ has Christ done?" And the answer is, that he has brought to man forgiveness of sin. The second and third questions regard the theory. "_Why_ was it necessary for Christ to do and suffer what he did?" and, "_How_ did he accomplish his work?"

Now, as concerns the matter of fact, Orthodoxy is in full accordance with the Scriptures, which everywhere teach that through Christ we have redemption, through his blood, even the forgiveness of our sins. But the Scriptures are perfectly silent concerning the theory. They do not tell us _why_ it was necessary for Jesus to die, nor _how_ his death procured forgiveness. The only exception is, as we have seen, in the statement, in the Epistle to the Hebrews, that the sufferings of Christ were necessary to make him perfect, and to enable him to be touched with a feeling of our infirmities.

Of the three theories which in turn have been regarded as Orthodox in the Church, two have completely broken down, and the third rests on such an insecure foundation that we may be very sure that it will follow the others as soon as any better one comes to take its place. The warlike theory and the legal theory of the atonement have gone to their place, and are no more believed by men. The governmental theory must soon follow.

Nevertheless, in each of these three theories there is one constant element. And it is due to Orthodoxy to state it. This element is, that the necessity of the death of Christ lay in the divine attribute of justice.

According to the first theory, Christ died to satisfy what was due by G.o.d to the Devil; according to the second, he died to satisfy what was due by G.o.d to himself; according to the third, he died to satisfy what was due by G.o.d to the moral universe. Divine justice, in the first theory, owed a ransom to the Devil, which Christ paid; in the second, it owed a debt to the divine honor, which Christ paid; in the third, it owed protection to the universe from the danger of evil example.

The difficulty to be removed before G.o.d can forgive sin, lay, according to all of these theories, in the divine justice. Christ died to reconcile justice and mercy, so as to make justice merciful, and mercy just.

But, in opposition to this view, the Unitarian argument is so formidable as to seem quite unanswerable. On grounds of reason, the Unitarian maintains that there can be no such conflict among the divine attributes, waiting till an event should occur in human history by which they should be reconciled. That G.o.d's justice and mercy should have been in a state of antagonism down to A.M. 4034, when Jesus died, is an incredible supposition. No event taking place in time and s.p.a.ce can be the condition _sine qua non_ of divine perfection. And any struggle or conflict like that supposed implies imperfection.

Moreover, the Unitarian truly maintains that the Orthodox theory that men cannot be forgiven on the simple condition of repentance, is wholly unscriptural. The Scriptures plainly teach that forgiveness follows repentance. In the cla.s.sic pa.s.sage of the Old Testament (Ezek. 18:20-32), the Jews were taught, unequivocally, that the death which is the wages of sin, is always removed by the simple act of repentance. If the modern doctrine of Orthodoxy be true, that in order to be saved it is necessary not only to repent, but also to believe in the atoning sacrifice, the Jews were fatally misled by this teaching of the prophet.

And so in the New Testament, the parable of the prodigal son teaches us plainly that when we repent and return to G.o.d, we shall be received, and that without any reference to belief in the atonement.

Moreover, the Unitarians are fully justified in saying that the New Testament nowhere a.s.serts that the primary and immediate influence of the death of Jesus is upon the divine attributes. In every instance Christ is said to reconcile us to G.o.d, never to reconcile G.o.d to us. (See Rom. 5:10, 11; 11:15. 2 Cor. 5:18, 19, 20. Eph. 2:13, 16. Coloss. 1:20, 21. 1 Peter 3:18.) It is we "who were afar off, and have been made nigh, by the blood of Christ." It is _we_, "who, when we were enemies, were reconciled to G.o.d by the death of his Son;" not G.o.d, who was afar off, who has been brought nigh to us; not G.o.d, who has been reconciled to us. It is "_we_, who have received the atonement." Christ has suffered for sins, "to bring _us_ to G.o.d," not to bring G.o.d to us. All this is plain, positive, and unequivocal.

And yet, notwithstanding that the Old and New Testaments declare the forgiveness of sin to the penitent, we nevertheless find a difficulty in believing it. It seems as if G.o.d _ought_ not to forgive us our sins on so simple a condition. And it is on this very feeling that the whole Orthodox theory of the atonement rests.

The explanation of this is, that man is obliged to understand G.o.d by himself. Since man was made in the image of G.o.d, he can know G.o.d only by understanding the moral and spiritual laws of his own soul. Now, in himself, he finds the constant antagonism of truth and love, justice and mercy, conscience and desire. From this essential original antagonism of truth and love spring all the moral conflicts which make cases of conscience. Whenever we see before us a divided duty, on being a.n.a.lyzed, it resolves itself into this conflict between truth and love. We naturally, and almost necessarily, transfer this same conflict to the mind of G.o.d. Whenever we wish to forgive an offender, but feel as if we ought not to do so, we teach ourselves to regard G.o.d as feeling the same difficulty. Conscience tells us that we are not fit to be forgiven, that it would be wrong for G.o.d to forgive us. Orthodoxy plants itself on this instinct, and elaborates its various theories, which men accept for a time as a sufficient explanation of their difficulty, and then reject when their inconsistencies appear. The deep-lying difficulty is the sense of our want of holiness, and the instinctive feeling of the eternal mutual repulsion of good and evil. Since G.o.d is good, and we are evil, how can he forgive us? If forgiveness merely meant the remitting of penalty, it might be done after sufficient expiation. If forgiveness meant laying aside of anger, we can well believe that G.o.d cannot retain wrath against his children. But forgiveness means communion, the mutual love of father and child, the being always in the presence of G.o.d. And for this, even after we have repented, and are endeavoring to do right, we do not feel ourselves qualified.

This is the real difficulty. Christ did not die to pay a debt to G.o.d, or to appease his wrath, but "to bring us to G.o.d," and to put the Spirit into our heart by which we can say, "Abba, Father!" The atonement is made to the divine justice-but not to distributive justice, which rewards and punishes, but to divine justice in its highest form, as holiness. And this consists in making us fit to appear before G.o.d, notwithstanding our sinfulness, because we have received a principle of holiness which will ultimately cast out all our sin. When we have faith in Christ, we have Christ formed within us, the hope of glory. G.o.d, looking on us, sees us not as we are now, but as we shall be when we are changed into that same image from glory to greater glory.

This suggests the theory which may replace the rest, and reconcile all those who believe in Christ as the Saviour and Redeemer of men. Christ saves us by pouring into us his own life, which is love. When Christian love is formed within us, it has killed the roots of sin in the soul, and fitted us to be forgiven, and to enter the presence of G.o.d.

In conclusion, we may say that Orthodoxy is right in maintaining that Jesus has by his sufferings and death brought forgiveness to mankind-not by propitiating G.o.d or appeasing his anger, not by paying our debt or removing a difficulty in the divine mind, but by helping us to see that the love of G.o.d is able to lift us out of our sin, and present us spotless in the presence of his glory with exceeding joy. The way in which his death produces this result is the sympathy with human sinfulness and sorrow, which finds in it its highest expression. Those whom men cannot forgive, and who cannot forgive themselves, see that G.o.d, speaking through the sufferings of Jesus, is able to forgive them. So the love of G.o.d brings them to repentance, and those who were afar off are made nigh by the blood of Christ.