The Babylonian bible, which is many centuries older than the Old Testament, says that Apsu and Tiamit first created the G.o.ds of order, or light. This corresponds to the first day in Genesis. But our author discards all these G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses when he tells us that "G.o.d said, Let there be light, and there was light." Whether light was the first act of creation or not, the best modern philosophy would confirm the statement that light was the result of G.o.d's wish. Light energy is a mode of the divine Will.

The Babylonian bible tells us that after Marduk had slain Tiamit in a great battle, he took his sword and cleaved her in two as you would a fish. With one half of her he made the firmament and fastened it to keep out the upper sea. This corresponds to the second day in Genesis. While the biblical writer does not change the Babylonian day, yet he has no use for the monstrous idea that the firmament was made out of one half of a G.o.ddess. According to our Bible, "G.o.d said, Let there be a firmament, and it was so." Our author, as the narrative shows, in keeping with the crude science of his times, thought that the firmament separated the sea that was above the firmament from the sea that was below the firmament; and that the sea under the firmament covered all the earth until G.o.d gathered the waters under the firmament unto one place and caused the dry land to appear. But if we know anything at all, we know that there is no firmament. G.o.d could not have made a firmament, for there is none. He could not have made s.p.a.ce on the second day because s.p.a.ce is nothing. And according to the story itself, He made the sun, moon, and stars on the fourth day,--the day after He had made gra.s.s and fruit trees. When, as a child, I thought that the apparent ceiling of the earth was the floor of heaven, my scientific ideas were no more crude than those of the writer who thought G.o.d made a firmament. But if there had been a firmament, as it appeared to the untrained senses, then it would have been made exactly as our inspired writer affirmed; and not after the ridiculous manner of the Babylonian bible. Our author's philosophy and religion in this case were perfect, but his science was wrong. So what is the use of trying to make out that the Bible always harmonizes with science, when it is absolutely certain that it does not?

When in college I asked my professor in geology how the earth could exist and grow gra.s.s and fruit trees bearing fruit before the sun was made. He replied that the sun, of course, was made previously, but that it did not appear until the fourth day when the vapor had settled by virtue of the earth's cooling. However, that would leave no creation for the fourth day; and besides, the second chapter of Genesis tells us that there was no vegetation yet because the Lord G.o.d had not caused it to rain. According to my professor's explanation it was too wet to see the sun, and according to the second chapter of Genesis it was too dry to grow gra.s.s. The biblical writers were not inspired to write science, but religion. And it is just as certain that they did not know much science as it is certain that they did know much religion. In this story of creation the writer took his crude, yet beautiful, little world and lifted it up into such perfect relation to the Infinite Creative Will that no one has ever been able to improve upon it; and the more we learn, the more certain it appears that we never shall be able to revise his statement of how the world is related to the Divine Will. Besides, the thought is so precious and so fruitful that we have no desire to change it.

A message may be perfectly true while the material used to convey the message may be mixed with error. For instance, I once used an ill.u.s.tration in electricity to make plain a deep spiritual truth, and the evidences were unmistakable that my purpose was realized. However, on the way home my little son said, "Oh, papa, I was awfully ashamed of you to-day, you made a mistake in your electricity." Convinced that I was wrong I said, "It is too bad." Then he tried to comfort me by saying, "Oh, well, I don't suppose that more than two-thirds of the people knew the difference." Nothing could have been more true than the religious idea I was trying to elucidate. Those who did not notice my error in my electricity, in addition to getting the idea, thought the ill.u.s.tration a good one. And while those who did recognize the mistake may have inwardly smiled, yet they too grasped my meaning equally well.

Every one present knew that I was not trying to teach electricity, but religion. In like manner, while recognizing the crude science in the story of creation, we may adore the matchless revelation of G.o.d in His relation to the universe.

It is as if I had made something beautiful and ingenious for the people of darkest Africa. At first, they would be afraid of it. Not until they were persuaded that it was made in love would they come forward and cautiously lay their hands upon it. Then as their fear subsided and their appreciation increased they would exclaim, "And devils didn't make it, and it won't hurt us, and you made it for our good!" But after their first curiosity had been sufficiently satisfied, I would touch a spring and awaken new wonder by showing the invention to be different from what they had thought, and ten times more wonderful. And thus, at every new revelation of the gift, their mistaken views would be corrected, and their admiration and love for me would be increased. So, in the story of creation, G.o.d presented the world to His children by first telling them that devils did not make it, and that vicious G.o.ds do not infest it; but that it all proceeded from His will as a loving gift to them. Though they still thought the universe like that which their unaided senses reported to them, yet the thing of supreme importance was that the loving gift came from a good G.o.d who rules over all. Than this revelation, nothing could be truer, nor more calculated to put their hearts at rest from fear. It marked a complete transition from a polytheistic and immoral conception of the universe to a theistic and ethical conception. Through all the centuries that have followed, this new revelation of G.o.d in His relation to the universe has been arousing the n.o.ble ambition and commanding the loving obedience of men. As men have studied their good gift from G.o.d, a growing scientific knowledge has enabled them from time to time to unlock the mysteries of nature; and behold, their good gift was not a snug little world floating in a sea, as they had thought, but a magnificent solar system flying through s.p.a.ce, and pulsating in an infinite sea of ether; and the supposed firmament was but a light effect on particles of dust in the atmosphere, caused by the light as it makes its journey of ninety-three million miles from the sun. And once more devout men exclaimed with awe, "Is this what the good G.o.d made for us by the mere fiat of His will?" That G.o.d said, "Let there be light: and there was light," was the affirmation of an inspired man who little realized that light travels the distance of eight times around the earth in one second, and yet requires more than four years at that speed to come from the nearest star. Thus science may forever change our conception of the world, and our sense of the Creator's majesty.

Someone may say, "Is not this upsetting our old Bible?" I think it is.

But when a friend expostulated, "Pat, don't you know that your stone wall will upset if you build it on that swampy ground?" Pat's reply was, "Faith, it is two feet high and three feet wide, and if it upsets it will be a foot higher than it was before." It is but truth to say that our old Bible is two or three times higher than it was before modern learning upset it; and may scholars keep on upsetting it as long as they can make G.o.d's word stand out clear and strong above all human learning and bigotry and superst.i.tion.

2. The story of the garden

When I was a boy, nearly every one grew gourds on his picket fence. And at almost every well there hung a gourd dipper. How many cool and refreshing draughts of water I have taken from gourd dippers I dare not say; but the memory is precious, and I should be delighted to repeat the experience now. No one, however, was ever foolish enough to tell us that after drinking the water we must eat the gourd. Now, the Bible is just full of gourd dippers from one end to the other,--and for this I am pleased.

Let me present one of these gourd dippers. It is the story of the Garden. Here is refreshing and life-sustaining water. It is not in a well, but in a spring that bubbles clear up to the surface. You need neither rope nor bucket,--nothing but the gourd; and a child may help himself. This story is a bit of inspired genius, if ever there was any.

My library contains great fat books on ethics, yet I never knew half a dozen men or women in my parishes who had the grit or grace to read one of them through. The mental discipline in reading them is good for ministers, though the conclusions arrived at in these books are identical with the teachings in this simple story. If the methods of these writers on ethics had been adopted by the biblical writers, very few people would be any the wiser for the Bible. But, from the dear old gourd a child may drink with ease and satisfaction.

This beautiful allegory was true to fact when it put Adam and Eve in a garden. Human beings can live only in a garden; they must have a base of supply in the products of the soil. But what about the forbidden fruit?

As a child, I did think it too bad that the Lord put the forbidden fruit in the garden when He must have known that it would cause no end of trouble. However, when I became a man I realized that even G.o.d could not make a garden that was fit to live in, without its having forbidden fruit in it. The grave is the only place where there is no forbidden fruit. Recently I spent ten days in our Capital City. And it _is_ a beautiful garden, with many things "good for food" and "pleasant to the eyes." During the ten days, Washington was my garden; and the other occupants there made me feel that I was very welcome. But did not they and I know that there were at least a dozen kinds of forbidden fruit that I might not partake of without running the risk of being tarred and feathered? Forbidden fruit is not bad fruit, it is fruit that belongs to some one else, or to us at some future time. It is all ours now, in a way; the wealth, the beauty, and the people are ours within certain limits; and it is this that makes our lives worth living. When, however, we begin to break up families, or to take anything that belongs exclusively to others, we have eaten the forbidden fruit,--and the curse is upon us. "In the day thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die." This is the infallible word of G.o.d, spoken to our first parents, to us, and to all mankind. Instead of haggling over the question of swallowing the gourd, we should preach this truth about forbidden fruit until offenders feel their hearts filled with holy fear and wholesome disgust.

Though the story of the forbidden fruit is truly wonderful, yet it is no more wonderful than that which makes the serpent the symbol of temptation. The serpent does not chase its prey like some bellowing hound, but silently awaits the victim's coming. As the serpent lies coiled in the midst of your flowers, so temptation lurks in the heart of some pleasant situation. You may be looking with legitimate pleasure upon some beautiful thing that belongs to your neighbor, and, before you are aware of it, the serpent of covetousness has struck its fangs into you. If, however, the temptation is seen before you are bitten by it, like a serpent, it makes strange circuitous routes as if it were coming and going from every side. It stops to parley. And if it succeeds in entwining itself about you, it crushes you with every part of its sinuous length. In countries that are infested with serpents, the reptiles go everywhere; they even hang from the rafters of dwellings.

Just so, temptation may appear anywhere to surprise or to charm you. If you are as good as the Master, temptations will a.s.sail you. If like Lincoln you should climb from a hut to the White House, even there you will be confronted by serpents of monstrous size striving in every possible way to beguile you. He who advocates a walking and a talking snake, does so to the great detriment of G.o.d's word. We are in no danger from talking serpents; but we all are in great danger from serpent-like temptations.

This parable and fable of the garden is meant for our edification and safety. As an a.n.a.lysis of temptation, sin, and punishment, for all people and for all times, nothing can surpa.s.s this story of the garden.

Seeing that it contains such vital thrilling truth, it is a great pity that it has fallen into almost universal neglect. The story has been killed by the credulity of its friends.

3. The Bible stories in general

I now call your attention to the interesting _stories_ scattered all through the Bible. The story of the Flood is an example. In a very simple form these stories were told long before they appeared in the Scriptures. And, doubtless, there was a nucleus of truth in them or they never would have been started on their rounds. As they were repeated about the campfires to children and illiterate slaves for generation after generation, everything that failed to interest, naturally, was forgotten. This made them the most tried and interesting of stories. In nothing did the inspired writers show greater wisdom than in making wings of these interesting tales to bear their spiritual messages afar.

If the modern Church could learn the spiritual utility of a folk-story, the Bible would start on a new mission of service; and much of the Bible now neglected could be used with new power. The _value_ of the lessons thus heralded in no wise rests upon the historic accuracy of the stories. It is perfectly evident that the story of the Flood involves the same crude conception of the earth as that which we have already described as the ancient and unscientific conception. If we contend for the literalness of this story we shall make its invaluable lessons of no effect for many people. The Tower of Babel is a like case. As a parable, it is a most accurate description of the folly this generation is in great danger of committing. Germany really built her Tower of Babel, and is to-day suffering from a confusion of tongues.

4. The laws of Israel--moral and ceremonial

If we now turn to the laws of Israel, we shall find the same blending of the crude with the sublime. The ten commandments are the n.o.blest possible prohibitions; and they are still needed for many people in the old prohibitive form. Yet Jesus takes even these and transforms them into spiritual affirmations. He shows righteousness to be an inner principle,--a state of heart. "On love hangs all the law and the prophets;" motive is the soul of conduct.

By carefully comparing the Old with the New Testament we see that the law, moral and ceremonial, was a strong movement in the direction of Christ; but that, from the morals of Abraham and Moses to the morals of Jesus, the way was long and steep. We also see that the journey often deviates from a straight line, and that the road at times is almost obliterated by the drifting sands. It is, therefore, evident that one cannot select just any verse of the Bible and say behold! the perfect word of G.o.d. When Jacob reports to his wives that he has been able to cheat the father out of his flocks because the G.o.d of his father has been with him, neither Jesus nor the Christian conscience of to-day believes it. In the Old Testament times G.o.d was giving His chosen people as much of His law as they could understand. Sometimes the divine truth flashed out with great brightness; at other times, it was much beclouded by ignorance and pa.s.sion. However, all the light that shines so brightly in the life of Jesus, began shining, with varying degrees of l.u.s.ter, through the prophets and teachers of Israel. It is just because the Scriptures enable us to see the _growth_ and the _vicissitudes_ of G.o.d's advancing light in the souls of men that they are so valuable to us. For this reason we should study all the Scriptures more faithfully, and more intelligently.

The ceremonial law of Israel was their method of teaching reverence and purity. Though it strongly resembled the ceremonial law of their Semitic neighbors, yet it was a more useful method of worship for Israel, at that time, than if it had been farther removed from the customary worship of the day. When the Israelites fell into idolatry, they worshiped the other G.o.ds in much the same way that they worshiped Jehovah; and not essentially different from the manner in which the Canaanites worshiped their G.o.ds. But for enlightened peoples, this has long since ceased to be a useful method of worship. Slowly we are learning better methods; but we still have much to learn in the divine art of lifting men's souls to G.o.d.

5. The book of Job

Pa.s.sing by a number of historical books we shall next make a brief study of Job.

I once had an interesting conversation with a middle-aged minister who, though uneducated, was a perfect gentleman. His mind was filled with an elaborate and ingenious scheme of religion falsely drawn from Job, Daniel, Ezekiel, and Revelation. Tons of brain power had been consumed by those who developed the system. Yet a moderate amount of general information would have caused the entire system to fall in ashes.

Ministers and Bible workers of this type still abound in astonishing numbers.

In the conversation just referred to, the minister was wildly quoting from Job. At one point I remarked, "But what you are now quoting is not true." "What," said he, "don't you believe the Bible?" "Yes," I replied, "but I do not believe that because, at the end of the book, G.o.d Himself says it is not true. Your motive is good, but it is a mistake to think that you can dive into the Scriptures at random like that, and find G.o.d's word."

We must remember that the book of Job is a dramatic poem, cast in the form of a dialogue. Whether or no suffering is a proof of guilt is the bone of contention between Job and his friends; and both positions cannot be true.

The author staged this dialogue on the Ash-Mound, outside the village.

After the loss of property and children, Job, all covered with boils, takes a potsherd with which to sc.r.a.pe himself and sits down upon the Ash-Mound. When the news of his misfortune reaches his three friends, they proceed forthwith to visit him. As these old sheiks approach Job, and find him changed beyond recognition, they lift up their voices and weep. They also tear off their mantles and sprinkle dust upon their heads. Seeing that Job is in deep distress, they seat themselves near him and remain there seven solid days and nights without ever speaking a word. Finally, Job opens his mouth and curses the day of his birth, in one of the most pessimistic poems ever recited. Even the comforters can scarcely believe their ears, so shocked are they at Job's blasphemy.

Still, they retain a measure of sympathy, for Eliphaz asks with great delicacy:

"If one a.s.says to commune with thee, wilt thou be grieved?

But who can withhold himself from speaking?"

You remember, Job, how you instructed others when they were weak and afflicted. "Recall, I pray thee, who ever perished, being innocent?" Now be a man, take your own medicine, repent of your sins, and G.o.d will return your prosperity. But Job only pours out his grief in fresh torrents. This causes Bildad to respond with alacrity:

"How long wilt thou speak these things?

And how long shall the words of thy mouth be like a mighty wind?"

Nevertheless, in spite of Bildad's lengthy rebuke, Job continues to pour out his complaint until Zophar can stand it no longer.

"Should not the mult.i.tude of words be answered? You are too full of talk for a righteous man. Your boasting will not silence us. For your mockery we shall make you ashamed." And when Zophar had finished his vehement reproach, Job _was_ mad.

"No doubt but ye are the people, And wisdom shall die with you."

Thus the argument went back and forth with criminations and recriminations, until Job and his friends were exhausted.

While the discussion was raging, there came along a young theologian who, being attracted by the discussion, remained to hear it through. It turned out that the speeches of both Job and his friends were to him equally disgusting. So he decided to wait and set them all right by his superior wisdom. Though this young man was filled with wrath at what he heard, yet he respectfully waited until the old men had finished. Then he reminded them that it was his respect for age that had kept him still until now. Having expressed his surprise at not finding wisdom a.s.sociated with years, he takes thirty-three lines to tell them how smart he is; and a.s.sures them that they shall hear something worth while when he gets to speaking. Some years ago while reading this with my wife, I could scarcely wait until young Elihu got through boasting; I was thrilled with a desire to hear his new position. At last he began his argument. But, to my great surprise, I could see no difference between his position and that of Job's opponents; and as my wife could see no difference, I was convinced that there was none. Like Job's antagonists, he argued at great length and with much beauty that misfortune is a proof of guilt. Finally, however, he did add a suggestion. Misfortune is a warning not to sin more, lest you suffer more. Of course none of the older men deigned to answer this young upstart by so much as a word.

The argument from all sources now being in, it was time for the artist to prepare a fitting scene for the approach of the Almighty.

Consequently, the storm clouds gather and begin to drop rain. The lightning suddenly flashes to the ends of the earth. The quick crash of thunder makes the heart quake. It is such a time as when old leviathan churns the deep into white foam. And at last out of the awful whirlwind G.o.d speaks: "Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge?"

Stand up, Job, and I will speak with you. Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? Have you walked in the recesses of the deep, have you seen the gates of death, does the morning come at your bidding, do you know the way of the lightning, do you cause the east wind to scatter over the earth? With all your wisdom, surely, you can answer.

Job, "Canst thou bind the cl.u.s.ter of Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion?" Can you thunder, Job? Can you send forth the lightning, can you draw out old leviathan with a fish hook? Gird up your loins like a man and answer me.

Very meekly Job replies, "Lord, I have heard of you before with the hearing of the ears, but now that I see you with my eyes, I abhor myself in dust and ashes." He frankly admits that he has spoken concerning things too wonderful for him. That Job has talked like a fool, G.o.d concedes. Yet He a.s.sures Job that in his main contention, he is right.

Suffering is not a proof of guilt. Then turning to Job's miserable comforters, G.o.d informs them that He is angry because of all the falsehoods they have spoken. Go, therefore, and take seven bullocks and seven rams and offer a sacrifice, and my servant Job shall pray for you.

And look sharp, "that I deal not with you after your folly; for ye have not spoken of me the thing that is right, as my servant Job hath."

After all this, how pitiful it was to see my old friend, the minister, building up a weird religion on hit-or-miss pa.s.sages from Job.

We all know that the wicked must suffer sooner or later, but the lesson of Job is that the innocent may suffer also. From this beautiful dramatic poem we learn that when the cause of suffering lies too deep for our knowledge, we should trust the goodness of Him who is All-wise.

The false belief, argued so vehemently by Job's comforters, still persisted in the days of Jesus; because they asked Him, "Who did sin, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" And Jesus vindicated the position of Job by saying, "Neither did this man nor his parents sin." The greater pity is, that this false belief still persists to crush the hearts of many innocent sufferers. A saintly parishioner of mine once said to me while wringing her hands:

"Oh, what awful thing can I have done, that G.o.d has brought this affliction upon me?" I told her that she had done nothing, that she was a Dorcas among us, and that G.o.d loved her as we all did. And thus I comforted her from the teachings of Job, and from the words of Jesus.

For three months, until she went home, she lay on a bed of pain in peace and trust.