4. The Possible Church, or Church as it can be.

-- 7. Primitive and Apostolic Church, or Church as it was.

If we study the nature, organization, and character of the primitive Christian Church, as it appears in the book of Acts and in the Epistles, we recognize easily the warm, loving life which was in its spring time, when all buds were swelling, and all flowers opening. It was far from being a perfect Church. It had many errors, and included many vices. Some persons in the Church did not believe in the resurrection of the dead. (1 Cor. 15:12.) Some disciples had not heard there was a Holy Ghost. (Acts 19:2.) Some even became intoxicated at the Lord's Supper. (1 Cor. 11:21, ?? d? e??e?). Some Christians had to be told not to steal (Eph. 4:28); nor to lie, (Col. 3:9); nor to commit other immoralities. Peter (supposed to be the infallible head of the Church) was rebuked by Paul for dissimulation. Paul and Barnabas could not get along together, but quarrelled, and had to separate. Part of the Church Judaized, and denounced Paul as a false apostle. Another part Paganized, and carried Pauline liberty into license. And yet, though there was so little of completed Christian character, there was a great amount of spiritual life in the apostolic Church. They are styled saints, but never was anything less saintly than the state of things in the beginning. But they were looking the right way, and going in the right direction. They were full of faith, zeal, enthusiasm, and inspiration; so they had in themselves the promise and expectation of saintship, if not its reality.

Directly after the ascension of Christ, and the wonderful experiences of the day of Pentecost, we find the Christian community in active operation.

Its organization was as yet very indefinite; that was to come by degrees.

It was a Church without a creed; its only creed was a declaration of faith in Jesus as the Christ, the Son of G.o.d. It was a Church without a bishop, or a single head of any kind; for Peter, James, and John seem all three to have possessed an equal influence in it, and that influence was derived from their character. Paul tells us expressly, in the Epistle to the Galatians, that when he went up to Jerusalem, long after his conversion, Peter, James, and John "seemed to be pillars" there. No mention is made anywhere in the book of Acts of a single bishop presiding over the Church at Jerusalem, or over any other Church. And as to the Romish Church, which claims to be the oldest Church, and the mother of all the rest, it was not yet founded at all, when the Church at Jerusalem was established. Nor was the Church at Rome as old as the Churches at Antioch, at Lystra, at Iconium, and elsewhere, for Paul and Barnabas ordained elders in all these churches, as we are expressly told in Acts 14th; and in Acts 15:7 we find Peter still at Jerusalem. If there was any church at Rome, Peter was not its bishop; then either it was a church without a bishop, or Peter was not its first bishop.

We find also that as the apostolic Church had no creed and no bishop, neither had it any fixed or settled forms. Its forms and usages grew up naturally, according as convenience required. Thus (Acts 6:1-5) we find that the apostles recommended the disciples to choose seven persons to attend to the distribution of charity. "A murmuring arose" because the Greek widows were neglected-neglected, probably, because not so well known as the others. This shows that there were no fixed, established forms; even the order of deacons was originated to meet an occasion.

That they had no form of service, no fixed Liturgy, in the apostolic Church, appears from 1 Cor. 14:26. "How is it, brethren, when ye come together, every one of you hath a psalm, a doctrine, a tongue, a revelation, an interpretation? Let the prophets speak, two or three, and the others judge, and if anything be revealed to another that sitteth by, let the first hold his peace. You may all prophesy one by one, that all may learn, and all be comforted." Now, it is very evident no fixed or formal service could have been established in the churches when he recommended this.

But though the apostolic Church had neither bishop, nor creed, nor fixed forms, nor a fixed body of officers, it had something better-it had faith in G.o.d, and mutual love. "The mult.i.tude of them that believed were of one heart and one soul; neither said any man that aught that he possessed was his own, but they had all things common." We do not find an absolute community of property established by a law of the Church, as in the monastic orders, or as in the school of Pythagoras, and some modern communities, as that of St. Simon; for Peter says to Ananias, of his property, "While it remained, was it not thine own? and after it was sold, was it not in thine own power?" But though their property was in their own power, they did not call it their own, or consider it so; it belonged to G.o.d: they were only stewards, and they readily brought it, and gave it to the use of the Church.

The apostolic Church was a home of peace and joy. Whatever tribulations they might have in the world, when they met together they met Christ, and ate their meat with gladness and singleness of heart. They were in an atmosphere of love and freedom. We hear of no rules, no laws, no constraining forms; but all were led by the Spirit of G.o.d. Even in their public service, as we have seen, though Paul recommended a greater order, it was not based on authority, but on the sense of propriety of each individual, because G.o.d was not the G.o.d of confusion, but of peace.

Such was the original Church, as described in the Acts and Epistles. It sprang up because it was wanted, and Christ foresaw that it would be. It was founded not on an arbitrary command, but on the needs of human nature.

Man is not a solitary, but a social being. He needs society in his labors and in his joys; society in study, society in relaxation. Even in the highest act of his life,-in the act of prayer, in communion with G.o.d; in that act, called by an ancient Platonist "the flight of one alone to the only One,"-even then he cannot be alone. In the union of man with man in any natural and true relation, his thought becomes more clear, his will more firm, his devotion more profound, his affections more enlarged. The broader and deeper the basis of the union, the more it blesses and helps him. A friendship based upon the knowledge and love of the same G.o.d, what can be better for us than this?

Thus we see that the apostolic Church was a home for Christ's family (Matt. 12:49); a school for his disciples; a fraternity of brethren. For discipline, it had officers, but no clergy, nor priesthood, for all were priests, and all took part in the services. (1 Peter 2:5; Rom. 1:6; 1 Cor.

14:26.) Its only creed was a belief in Jesus as the Christ, the Son of G.o.d. (Acts 8:37; 16:31. 1 John 4:15; 5:5, 10. Rom. 10:9.) The unity of the Church was not the unity of opinion, nor the unity of ceremonies, but the bond of the Spirit (Eph. 4:3), and the central unities of faith, not of doctrine (Eph. 4:5.) The object of the Church service was not merely to partake the Lord's Supper together, nor to maintain public worship, nor to defend and propagate a creed, nor to call men into an outward organization, nor to gather pious people together, and keep them safe as in an ark, but to _do good_ and _get good_-to grow up in all things into Him who is the Head. And the condition of membership was to wish to be saved from sin, and to have faith in Christ that he could save them; it was to hunger and thirst after righteousness.

-- 8. The Actual Church, or the Church as it is.

Now, if we turn from the Church as it was to the Church as it is,-from the apostolic Church to those around us,-we see a difference. Instead of the freedom and union which were in the early Church, we find in the Roman Catholic communion union, but no freedom; in the Protestant Churches freedom, but no union. In both we find the Church built on the ministry, instead of the ministry on the Church; the priests everything, the people nothing; fixed forms, instead of a free movement; dead creeds, instead of a living faith. The spirit of worldliness has entered the churches, and they try to serve G.o.d and Mammon; G.o.d on Sunday, and Mammon on the week days. The members of the churches are more devout and more religious, but not more moral or more humane, than many who are out of their body. And because they do not love man whom they have seen, they find it hard to love G.o.d, whom they have not seen. Their want of humanity destroys their piety.

A vast amount of good is done by the churches, even in their present state; but when we think of what they might do, it seems nothing. Yet it is _not_ nothing. Could we know the good done by the mere sound of the church bells on Sunday, by the quiet a.s.sembling of peaceful mult.i.tudes in their different churches; could we measure the amount of awe and reverence which falls over every mind, restraining the reckless, checking many a half-formed purpose of evil, rousing purer a.s.sociations and memories, calling up reminiscences of innocent childhood in the depraved heart of man; could we know how many souls are roused to a better life, made to realize their immortal nature, reminded of a judgment to come; could we see how many souls, on every Sabbath, in our thousands of churches, are turned from sin to G.o.d, how many sorrowing hearts are consoled by the sweet promises of the gospel; could we see, as G.o.d sees and the angels see, all this,-we should feel that the churches, in their greatest feebleness, are yet the instruments of an incalculable good. But when we look at what _is_ to be done, what _ought_ to be done, what _could_ be done by them, their present state seems most forlorn.

It is one of the most difficult of our duties not to despise an imperfect good, and yet not to be satisfied with it.

One of the greatest evils of our churches is, that they are churches of the clergy, not of the people. Our clergy are generally pure-minded, well-intentioned men, less selfish and worldly than most men; but they are not equal to the demands of their position. We take a young man, send him to college, then to a theological school, where he studies his Greek very faithfully, and learns to write sermons. He comes out, twenty-two years old, a pleasing speaker, and is immediately settled and ordained over a large long-established church. As he rises in the pulpit and looks down on his congregation, one would think he would despair. What can he say to them? He knows nothing of human nature, of its struggles and sins, its temptations in the shop and the street. Men do not curse at him, nor try to cheat him, nor entice him into bar-rooms, oyster-cellars, billiard-rooms, and theatres. He cannot speak to men of their vices, their stony and hard hearts, their utter unbelief, their crying selfishness, for he knows nothing of it. He must speak of sin in the abstract, not of sin in the concrete. If he did, what could he say? What weapons has he? The sword of the Spirit is in his hands, but he has not tried it; he has no confidence in it. The awful truths of the Bible, which smite the stoutest sinner to the earth, these he might utter, if he dared; but he knows not how. And yet he is the teacher of these gray-headed men, and their only teacher. Had he gone out as Jesus sent his disciples, without purse or shoes or two coats, and preached the gospel for ten years by the way-side, in cottages, in school-houses, living hard, sleeping on the floor, seeing men and women everywhere without disguise, and taking no thought beforehand what to say, but leaning on G.o.d for his inspiration,-then might he have learned how to say something weighty even to a great congregation.

Or if this poor boy were surrounded by a living active church, helping him by advice, going with him into the house of sorrow, the haunt of sin, kneeling with him by the sick couch and death-bed, and adding to his small experience the whole variety and richness of theirs,-then might he be a man of G.o.d, thoroughly furnished for every work.

If there were Judaism and Paganism in the early Church, they still, no doubt, linger in our churches to-day. The Church Judaizes in this-that it still puts forms above life. For example, the Roman Catholic Church teaches that if you take a child, and put water upon him, repeating the baptismal formula, and with the _intention_ of baptizing him, the child becomes in that moment regenerate. If he had died the moment before, he would have been d.a.m.ned forever in eternal torments; if he dies the moment after, he will go to eternal bliss in heaven. Now, if an earthly parent should cover his child's body with camphene, and then set it on fire, because somebody had not baptized it, we should say he was a very cruel parent. But this conduct is attributed to the good G.o.d by the Roman Catholic doctrine. Moreover, when an outward form is made thus essential, when everlasting salvation or d.a.m.nation depends on it, it behooves us to know what it is. Baptism consists of three parts-the water, the formula, and the intention of the baptizer. But as to the water, we may ask, _How much_ is essential? Is it essential that there be enough to entirely immerse the body? The Catholic Church replies, "_No_." Is the aqueous vapor always present in the air enough? It answers, "No, _that_ is _not_ enough." At what precise point, then, between these two, does _enough_ begin, does baptism take place, and the child cease to be a child of perdition, and become an heir of salvation? The Roman Catholic Church, being obliged to answer this question, has answered it thus: There is no baptism until water enough to _run_ is put on the child. A drop which will not _run_, does not baptize him; a drop which will run, baptizes him. The difference, then, between these two drops, is the difference to the child between eternal d.a.m.nation and eternal salvation.(70)

How does this sound by the side of the declaration of the apostle Paul-"He is not a Jew who is one outwardly, neither is circ.u.mcision outward in the flesh; but he is a Jew who is one inwardly, and circ.u.mcision is of the heart"? Judaism, if anything, was an outward inst.i.tution; Christianity, if anything, is an inward life. And yet that which the apostle Paul said of Judaism we hardly to-day would venture to say of Christianity. "He is not a Christian who is one outwardly, neither is Christianity in outward belief, profession, or aspect; but he is a Christian who is one inwardly."

"O, no!" we say, "there must be a distinction. A man who does not believe in the miracles, for example, may be a good man, but you must not call him a Christian." But he who follows Christ, we think, is a Christian. And as Christ walks before mankind on the divine road of goodness, truth, love, purity, he who walks on that road _cannot help being a follower_ of Christ, whatever he may call himself.

How the Church Judaizes about the Sabbath-pretending, first, that there _is a Sabbath_ in Christianity, and teaching people that there is a sort of piety in calling Sunday _the Sabbath_, and next putting this ritual observance, this abstinence from labor and amus.e.m.e.nt, on a level with moral duties! When men t.i.the mint, they are apt to forget justice and mercy. If Jesus were to return, after all these centuries, and were only to do and say just what he did and said about the Sabbath when he was here before, there are many pious Protestants who would think him rather lax in his religious principles. How long he has been with us, and yet we have not known him!

An American Protestant bishop once forbade a clergyman of his church to officiate again, because this clergyman had invited a Methodist minister to a.s.sist him in the administration of the sacrament. This is backsliding a good way from the position of Him who said, "Forbid him not: he that is not against us is with us." And again: "Whosoever wishes to do the will of G.o.d, the same is my mother, my sister, and my brother." Dear Master! is _thy_ Church so broad as to include all who desire to do the will of G.o.d, and are _our_ churches so narrow that they cannot hold any but those who agree with us in our little notions about ceremony and form? Hast thou been so long time with us, and yet have we not known thee?

The Church Actual is a timid Church. It is afraid of truth, and afraid of love. Its creed is full of mysteries too solemn and sacred to be examined.

They are the sealed book of the prophet, which is given to the learned clergy, and to the unlearned laity; and the answer of the unlearned laity is, "We are not learned." And the answer of the learned clergy is, "It is sealed. It is a mystery. We must not even try to understand it." The Actual Church is not fond of a free examination of its tenets, but rather represses it by the flaming terrors of perdition impending over honest error.

The Church Actual sticks in the letter. How it idolizes the Bible! But when you ask, _What?_ you find it is rather the letter of the Bible than its manly, generous, humane, and holy spirit. It babbles of verbal inspiration and literal inspiration, which are phrases as absurd as it would be to say "bodily spirit." Question the inspiration of the letter, and a thousand voices cry, "You are cutting away the very foundations of our faith. If we cannot believe every letter of the Bible to be from G.o.d, we have nothing to hold by." But the apostle Paul thought somewhat differently, when he said, "Who hath also made us able ministers of the New Testament, _not of the letter, but of the spirit; for the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life_."

The American Bible Society appointed a committee of learned persons to revise the present translation of the Bible-not to make a new translation by any means, but merely to correct palpable blunders of the press, palpable errors in the headings of chapters, or universally admitted mistakes of the translators. The learned men did their work. It was examined, printed-about to be published. But an outcry was made, that the Bible Society, in taking away these few errors of the press, was taking away _our_ Bible. The Christian public, in the middle of the nineteenth century, has been so instructed, that when a few errors in the letter of the outward word are corrected, it cries out, "They have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him."

The Church Actual is sectarian. Every church is trying to swell its numbers at the expense of its neighbors. We do not think that a Christian Church should be constructed on the principle of a mouse-trap, which it is easy enough to get into, but hard to get out of. We do not think it right that young persons, in the glow of their piety, should be drawn into a church, without being told that if they should change their views on any important point, they cannot leave it except by being excommunicated publicly. But there are churches in New England which have many very easy and agreeable entrances, but only two exits-very difficult and disagreeable. If one wishes to leave, he is dismissed with a letter directed to some other church of the same creed, and not till he has joined some such church, and a certificate is sent back to that effect, is he released from his obligations. The Church is therefore like a city on a hill, with a palisade fence all round, with openings by which one can get in, but not out; and having only two outlets-one by a gate kept carefully locked, and the other over a steep wall, fifty feet high. You have your choice of three things: 1. Stay where you are; 2. Go through the gate into another palisaded enclosure; 3. Be pitched down the Tarpeian rock of excommunication.(71)

Thus we see that the Church Actual differs much, and often for the worse, from the Church Primitive. It is not now a home or a fraternity, for its members often do not know each other by sight. It is not a school of disciples, for it is thought necessary to take your whole creed at once, ready made, and not learn it by degrees. The worship is too often by the minister and choir, the people being only spectators. Instead of the simple original faith in Jesus as the Christ, the people are taught long and complicated creeds. Instead of a unity of conviction, seeing the same things, there is only a unity of expression, _saying_ the same things.

Instead of seeking to save the outcasts, infidels, vicious; churches are built and occupied by Christians themselves, as though Christ came to call only the righteous to repentance. There may be, in our great cities, a church to every two thousand persons; but every seat in every church is bought and occupied by the respectable and comfortable cla.s.ses. The gospel is preached, but no longer to the poor. There is something wrong in all this.

-- 9. The Church Ideal, or Church as it ought to be.

The Church Ideal is full of life, power, love, freedom. It is a teaching Church; calling men out of darkness into marvellous light, throwing light on all the mysteries of human existence. It takes the little child and teaches it concerning its duty and destiny. It organizes schools through every Christian nation, so that all Christian children shall be taught of G.o.d, and that great shall be their peace. It teaches systematically and thoroughly all cla.s.ses of society; so that all, from least to the greatest, know the Lord. It organizes missions to all heathen lands, and its missionaries are so true, n.o.ble, kind, so reflect the life of Jesus in their own, that the heathen come flying like clouds, and like flocks of doves, to the windows of the holy home. The dusky, and swarming races of Hindostan, the mild and studious Chinamen, come flowing to Christ, as the long undulating clouds of pigeons darken along the October sky in our western forests. The ideal Church is a loving Church. It loves men out of their sins. It seeks the poor and forlorn, the hard-hearted and impenitent, and by unwearied patience soothes their harsh spirit. Enter its gates, and you find yourself in an atmosphere of affection. The strong bear the infirmities of the weak. Each seeks the lowest place for himself.

They love to wash the disciples' feet.

The Ideal Church is an active Church. All the members work together for the building up of the body; some after this fashion, others after that.

"So the whole body, fitly joined together, and compacted by that which every joint supplieth," is built up in love. Is there any ruinous vice, any corroding sin, any festering moral disease in the land? The Ideal Church searches for its root, and finds its cure. It takes the intemperate man by the hand, and will not let him go till he abstains. It penetrates into every haunt of sin and pollution, and brings forth the half-ruined child, triumphantly leads out the corrupt woman, and places them in new homes. The Ideal Church does not dispute about doctrines or dogmas. It says to each, "To your Master you shall stand or fall, not to me."

Therefore the Ideal Church is an earthly heaven. There is in it a warm, serene, sunny atmosphere; a sky without clouds; the society of love, the solitude of meditation, the inaccessible mountain tops of prayer; the low-lying, quiet valleys, where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest.

But where is the Ideal Church? We have seen that it is not in the past, where many look for it. The golden age of the Church, the Paradisiacal state of Christianity, is not behind us. Was the Ideal Church that which persecuted Paul for renouncing Judaism? Was it any of the Churches described by John in the book of Revelation? that of Ephesus, which had "left its first love"? that of Pergamos, which contained heretical teachers? that of Thyatira, which communed with Jezebel and the depths of Satan? that of Sardis, which had "a name to live, and was dead"? or that of Laodicea, which was lukewarm?

Was that an Ideal Church where Paul was obliged to write to t.i.tus that a bishop must not be a striker, nor given to wine, nor to filthy lucre? and to advise Timothy to avoid "profane and vain babbling"?

There was more life in it than in the Church now; a great struggling, but undeveloped power of life, heaving and tossing the Church, as with subterranean fire-smoke and flame bursting forth together; a great power of life, but little chance of doctrine as yet; little harmony of action; little in accordance with our ideas of decency and order. It was the spring time, and as in the spring there is a great power of life in nature, swelling all buds, pushing all shoots, unfolding leaves,-but all things still bare; few flowers, no fruit,-so it was in the Primitive Church. It was not Ideal. The Ideal Church is before us, not behind us; it is to come.

-- 10. The Church Possible, or Church as it can be.

Is any Church possible but the Actual? We think there is. We think that a Church may be something more and better than any we have now. Without reaching the ideal standard we can yet do something.

We think it possible for a Church to be united on a basis of study and action rather than on that of attainment. Instead of having it consist of those who have formed opinions, let it consist of those who wish to form them. Instead of having it consist of those who have been converted, and who believe themselves pious, let it consist of those who wish to be converted, and who desire to be pious. Instead of having it consist of good people, let us invite in the bad people who desire to be good. Do you send your children to school because they are learned, and not rather because they are ignorant? Why should we not become disciples of Christ because of our ignorance, rather than our knowledge.

We think it possible to have a Church, and even a denomination, organized, not on a creed, but on a purpose of working together. Suppose that the condition of membership was the desire and intention of getting good and doing good. The members of a church are not those who unite in order to partake the Lord's Supper, but to do the Lord's work. The Lord's Supper is their refreshment after working. They come together sometimes to remember his love, and to get strength from him. Let them sit together, express their desires, confess their faults, say what they have been trying to do, where they have failed, where succeeded, and so encourage each other to run with diligence the race set before them.

We therefore think it possible for a Church to be built on Christ himself, and not on a minister. The Church might even do without a sermon; the members might pray together and sing together, when they had no minister, and be a true family of Christian men and women, brothers and sisters in the Lord. The lowest view of a Christian Church is that which makes it a body of pew-holders; the next lowest, that which makes them an audience met to hear a sermon; the next lowest, a mere congregation or a.s.sembly of worshippers; a little higher is that of a body of communicants, bound together by the desire of knowing Christ; but highest of all is that which regards a Church as the body of Christ. Such a Church is to learn of him, and to do his will; it is his eyes, to look on all things with a Christian vision; his hands, by which he shall still touch and heal the wretched; his feet, to go through the world, to search out its evils and sins; his mouth, through which he shall speak words of divinest help and encouragement. "The body of Christ, and members one of another." The body of Christ; always active, always progressing, always advancing; advancing into a deeper and better knowledge of his will, into a purer love of his kingdom, into a further and divine life of union with him; the body fitly joined together, and compacted by that which every joint supplieth, making increase of the body to the building of itself up in love.

It is possible to have a Church which shall be ready to teach and preach the gospel, not to a few pew-holders only, but to the whole community.