My Personal Apology
Our word "apology" is an interesting one. It is not a translation but a transliteration of the Greek apologia. In our day it is frequently used to designate an expression of regret for some improper or injudicious remark or act. This was not its original sense at all. Instead, it referred to a statement, either oral or written, in justification or defense of one's conviction about a matter under challenge.
In its early days Christianity became the butt of attack by pagan philosophers and politicians who were masters of the art of ridicule. Many of these were brilliant men in positions of authority in heathen schools and governments. But there were also men of ability who wrote in behalf of the faith, and the second and third centuries of the Christian era produced some noble apologists. From their replies we can ascertain the charges made against the followers of Jesus, and can determine how these accusations were countered.
We shall introduce here only one of the apologists who is especially interesting because of the format of his presentation. Minucius Felix was originally a Roman orator and rhetorician. When he was converted to the Christian faith he directed all of his talents toward the defence of that which he once hated. His learned treatise was probably published about 210 A. D. Following the best style of that day it was in the form of a dialogue between Caecilius, a heathen, and Octavius, a Christian, with Minucius sitting as moderator between them.
Caecilius, during the course of his remarks, produces all of the current arguments in defence of polytheism, and makes all of the charges then in vogue against Christianity and the persons who had embraced it. In behalf of the various deities who were alleged to inhabit the summit of Olympus it was urged that history revealed that the gods had not only protected those who faithfully devoted themselves to their worship, but avenged them of their enemies who unjustly attacked them. It was argued that miracles had been wrought through their power and those who possessed a special dispensation to divine had foretold events which had subsequently come to pass. Caecilius also affirmed that a Supreme Deity had always been revered and worshiped in conjunction with many gods, and that there had ever been one who was regarded as the chief of the gods.
Against the Christians various charges were hurled. They were accused of having deified a publicly executed malefactor, the chief witness against whom were his own countrymen. It was urged that they demanded a blind faith as opposed to a rational system of philosophy; that they invited the illiterate, sinners and criminals into their society; whereas, only the instructed and pure of heart were initiated into the heathen mystery cults; and that the various Christian sects were intolerant toward each other, exhibiting animosity toward those who professed to be followers of the same God. Caecilius also pointed out the poverty and persecution which dogged the steps of the Christians and attributed this state to the weakness of the one whom they worshiped.
Caecilius further indicted the Christians as a desperate and unlawful faction composed of those who sought to import a religion from a provincial territory and impose it universally in ruthless disregard for the gods of other people. He declared that they heaped contempt upon all other deities than the one they worshiped, scoffed at their priests and derided their temples and sacred places.
Throughout the lengthy harangue, Octavius quietly listens without interrupting or heckling his accuser. At the close of the charges he speaks calmly to the chairman, Minucius, and informs him that he will endeavor by a clear statement of truth and fact, to exonerate Christianity from the foul aspersions cast upon it by Caecilius. He begins by admitting the truth of the charge that Christians held in contempt the gods of the heathen. He declares that such gods are but the creations of men and are helpless, and that all worship of them is vain. Here is part of his rejoinder.
The mice, the swallows, and the bats, gnaw, insult, and sit upon your gods; and unless you drive them away, they build their nests in their mouths; the spiders weave their webs over their faces. You first make them, then clean, wipe and protect them, that you may fear and worship them. Should we view all of your rites, there are many things which justly deserve to be laughed at--others that call for pity and compassion.
After this introduction, Octavius proceeds to deal with the reasons for his faith in a logical and systematic fashion. In doing so he shows that the apologetic for one God was equal to the presentation of any of the philosophers in his day. Making his appeal to common observation and knowledge, he points out that man differs from the lower orders of animals, chiefly in this, that the beasts of the field are created prone to the earth, bent downward by nature, and contemplating always that only which will fill their bellies and satisfy physical needs. But man was created to be erect and upright, capable of looking abroad and of contemplating the heavens, possessed of rational powers, of conscience and a moral sense, all of which are calculated to lead him to knowledge of God, which, in turn, make him want to ascertain the will of God and please him. He proceeds to deny atheism as an absurdity, and postulates the need of a great first cause as dictated by the clearest light of reason and conscience. You will appreciate his approach in the following magnificent sentences.
When you lift up your eyes to heaven and survey the works of creation around you, what is so clear and undeniable, as that there is a God, supremely excellent in understanding, who inspires, moves, supports and governs all nature. Consider the vast expanse of heaven, and the rapidity of its motion, either when studded with stars by night, or enlightened with the sun by day; contemplate the almighty hand which poises them in their orbs, and balances them in their movement. Behold how the sun regulates the year by its annual circuit, and how the moon measures round a month by its increase, its decay, and its total disappearance. Why need I mention the constant vicissitudes of light and darkness, for the alternate reparation of rest and labour? Does not the standing variety of seasons, proceeding in goodly order, bear witness to its divine author? The spring with her flowers, the summer with her harvests, the ripening autumn with her grateful fruits, and the moist and unctuous winter, are all especially necessary. What an argument for providence is this, which interposes and moderates the extremes of winter and summer with the alloys of spring and autumn--thus enabling us to pass the year about with security and comfort, between the extremes of parching heat and of cold? Observe the sea and you will find it bounded with a shore, a law which it cannot transgress. Look into the vegetable world, and see how all of the trees draw their life from the bowels of the earth. View the ocean, in constant ebb and flow; and the fountains running in full veins; with the rivers perpetually gliding in their wonted channels. Why should I take time in showing how providentially this spot of earth is cantoned into hills, dales and plains? What need I speak of the various artillery for the defence of every animal--some armed with horns and hedged about with teeth or fortified with hoofs and claws, or speared with stings, while others are swift of foot or of wing? But, above all, the beautiful structure of man most plainly speaks of God. Man, of stature straight, and countenance erect, with eyes placed above like sentinels, watching over the other senses within the tower?
Having shared with you this much of the speech of Octavius in reply, I feel it would be unfair not to let you further read his answer to the charge that Christians were generally poor and despicable, and often persecuted and held in contempt by the more sophisticated members of society.
That the most of us are poor, is not to our dishonor but to our glory. The mind, as it is dissipated by luxury, so it is strengthened by frugality. But how can a man be poor, who wants nothing, who covets not what is another's, who is rich towards God? That man is rather poor, who, when he has much, desires more. No man can be so poor as when he was born. The birds live without any patrimony; the beasts find pasture every day, and we feed upon them. Indeed they are created for our use, which, while we do not covet, we enjoy. That man goes happier to heaven, who is not burdened with an unnecessary load of riches. Did we think estates to be useful to us, we would beg them of God, who, being Lord of all, would afford us what is necessary. But we chose rather to contemn riches than to possess them, preferring innocency and patience to them, and desiring rather to be good than prodigal. Our courage is increased by infirmities, and affliction is often the school of virtue.
There are certain things which we may deduce from the foregoing and other Christian documents of the same era. Let us mention a few of them for your consideration.
1. The Christian concept has encountered opposition ever since its introduction into the world. Because of its conflict with "the wisdom of the age" it has been attacked repeatedly by the materialistic philosophers of every generation.
2. The early Christians did not flinch from their attackers but faced up courageously to the onslaught. They welcomed every examination of the basis for belief and heeded the admonition to be ready always to give an answer to those who queried them about a reason for their hope.
3. They were prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice for conviction, holding a firm trust that they might accomplish in death what they could not in life. It was this which prompted Tertullian (about 200 A. D.) to close his apology which was addressed to the emperor and his counsellors, in the following words:
But do your worst, and rack your inventions for tortures for Christians. `Tis all to no purpose; you do but attract the notice of the world, and make it fall the more in love with our religion. The more you mow us down the thicker we spring up--the Christian blood is the seed you sow; it springs from the earth again and fructifies the more. That which you reproach in us as stubbornness, has been the most instructive mistress in proselyting the world--for who has not been struck with the sight of what you call stubbornness, and from thence prompted to look into the reality and grounds of it; and who ever looked well into our religion that did not embrace it? and whoever embraces it (on proper grounds) that was not ready to die for it? For this reason it is that we thank you for condemning us, because there is such a happy variance and disagreement between the divine and human judgment, that when you condemn us upon earth, God absolves us in heaven.
4. It will be noted that the charges directed against Christianity in our twentieth century are not new, but are simply those of the second century introduced in a different garb. A careful analysis will show that not one novelty has been urged by modernistic skeptics. It would appear that neo-paganism has simply borrowed a leaf from the book of more ancient philosophy and revised and amended its content to meet the more refined age in which we live.
5. The weaknesses and frailties of the Christians are still urged as objections to their profession. The spirit of antagonism evidenced in sectarianism and factionalism is still a hindrance to the cause of Christ in our day. It would appear that the heathen in all ages expect more fruit from the Christian tree than do its branches. But sad as the derelictions of Christians may be, it remains that these are not the result of following Christ, but of refusing to do so. And the condemnation of the hypocrisy of his professed followers is an indirect testimony to the purity of Jesus.
Perhaps I should apologize for offering my own apologetic. It is that of a plain man and not of a philosopher. There will be nothing profound about it and it will undoubtedly be rejected by many because it will be presented in the common language in which a simple believer must communicate his thoughts. There will be nothing new or startling about it and it will serve only to recall that which has often formed the foundation for the meditation of most of us in our quiet hours.
I believe in God. There are reasons why I believe.
I have pondered them over and over. These reasons appear to me to have validity
for my own life and thought. I offer them for consideration because I have
personally considered them and they have relevance in the formation of my
approach to life. I shall mention five different items. Four of these will
be positive; the fifth will be negative. The last will be devoted to a discussion
of the inadequacy of an alternative to faith.
The idea of a supreme being has been a vital factor in the thought of every nation in the world. As far back as the history of mankind reaches into the remotest annals of time, this has been the case. And the idea of God has not been a fleeting thought or a wandering vagary in a few more enlightened minds. It has been the dominant factor in the formation of the varied cultures. It has been the thing to which men gave their allegiance when all else failed, the one belief which could not be banished permanently from the human heart. Religion has been the regnant principle which moulded the laws, shaped the lives and conditioned the attitudes of every race, tribe and tongue.
Whether a people were considered primitive or advanced in civilizing influences, they had in common a belief in deity, and this promoted religion which, in turn, prompted action and conduct compatible with it. The American Indians who roamed the vast plains or lived among the forest trees, believed in a Great Spirit and contemplated a happy hunting ground where hunger and hardship would come no more. The Aztecs of Mexico, and their Toltec predecessors, sought to propitiate their gods with human sacrificial victims. Barbarous as this appears to us in a more enlightened age, it betokens the fact that deity was regarded as deserving the best that man could offer, and thus shows a strange paradoxical regard for human life even by those who so often sacrificed it.
Long before the Romans pushed their way northward into Europe the savage tribes which inhabited the area worshiped gods and poured out libations unto them. They glorified and deified their heroes who were credited with real and mythical exploits. Regarding immortality as being the reward for valor alone, they considered that the bodies of the brave after being purified by fire would again be invested with their spirits and conducted into the great banquet-hall of the gods for an eternity of feasting and rejoicing.
The Romans borrowed many of their own deities from the Greeks, so that the gods of the Greeks have exact counterparts in the Roman pantheon. The fertile imagination of the Greeks peopled the universe with so many gods that the poet Hesiod said there were actually thirty thousand of them. The Persians had their supreme being, Mithra, and under him the two inferiors, Oromasdes and Ariman, the gods of good and evil respectively. The Babylonians worshiped Bel and Nebo, and the Assyrians before them had their deities.
It is impossible for anyone to write the history of an ancient nation without devoting a great deal of space to religion. So interwoven is religion with the customs, laws, habits and events of every tongue and tribe that a recital of its events is actually a recounting of the impact of its religion upon the life of the people. Even the professed atheist who derides the idea of a supreme being, and who denounces religion as an opiate of the people, must admit that the idea of God is as universal as mankind.
When such a skeptic writes a letter, if he puts down the name of the week day or the month, he often is forced to use the name of a heathen deity; when he puts down the year he pays tribute to the entrance of Jesus into the world. The poetry he reads is replete with allusions to the gods of the ancients or to the words of the sacred scripture. If you were suddenly to remove every reference to religion or every quotation related to it, the literature of the world would become threadbare. The masterpieces of writing and speech would disappear.
If the idea of God had occurred only among barbarians and savages, one might conclude that it was a superstitious notion conjured up by the rude and uncultured. Or, if the idea was found only among the more enlightened he might reason that it was an outgrowth of the intellectual faculties, an invention to meet the need for explanation of certain intangibles. If the idea were limited to a certain clime in a certain age it could be argued that certain factors of environment, created by time and place, necessitated the concept, and it was devised because of this. Admittedly, no such reasoning could be justified but it might be more easily indulged.
But the truth is that all people, tribes and tongues, have believed in a supreme being. This has been as much a part of their existence as the eating of food or propagating the species. And it would seem to be instinctive as the satisfaction of hunger or breeding to produce offspring. Just as you could not find a race of people who did not eat to sustain life so you could not find a race that did not believe in a deity. Can it be possible that this one deep longing and hunger for companionship with a supreme being, felt by all men everywhere, is the only passion without provision, the one desert of disillusionment without a single oasis? Would man create a desire to cruelly torment himself and perpetuate a myth with which to tantalize his own person? And if one man would do so, would all men do it? Would they do so simultaneously in a universe where many of them had no communication with any of the others?
It may be argued that many of the aboriginal nations
were superstitious in matters of religion, and this is true. But it cannot
be argued that they were not sincere. In their ignorance the object
of their faith was misdirected, but the effect was not. Their conduct
was consistent with what they did believe and they were held in check by
what they held in awe. Their government, their customs, their cultures, were
an outgrowth of their religion. How may we account for a universal belief
in God if there was no God of the universe in whom to believe?
It is an interesting fact that when one goes back as far as historical research permits he finds that every nation had its traditions concerning creation, the primeval state of man, the origin of sin, the deluge and kindred matters. Concerning the origin of the existing natural order there is a remarkable agreement among the ancient Babylonians, Egyptians, Phoenicians, Assyrians and Greeks. All of the traditional views begin with a chaotic condition, all hold that light was created first after the chaos, all agree that with the coming of light, orderly development followed, all concur in the placing of the sun, moon and stars as regulatory bodies in the heavens.
We are limited in our examination of the veracity of a people to the evidence at hand. For this reason we cannot go beyond the bounds of recorded history. But the earliest such records show that all the nations already field traditions which they believed and accepted as coming down to them from the very beginning. In fact, the recording of these traditions lest they become lost or forgotten actually gave rise in some instances to the inception of permanent records among them. We may express doubt as to the accuracy of the traditions but we cannot deny the existence of them. Since they did exist and were regarded as traditions and since they are beyond the pale of possibility for accurate evaluation it would seem the role of wisdom on our part not to be arbitrary in our pronouncements. How do we know that they did not possess adequate and credible evidence to support them in a belief so universal?
Of course it is generally urged that, in spite of the agreements we have mentioned, there were also divergencies as to detail and various disagreements in the traditions. This is correct but instead of it disproving the traditions or weakening the fabric of agreement woven from them, it does the opposite. A tradition is "a handing over or a handing down." It refers to that which is handed down from one person to another, or from one generation to another. It is recognized that in all transmission of thought from one generation to another discrepancies arise. Men are not accurate either in speaking or hearing, and these inaccuracies are thus perpetuated. Where there is deliberate collusion and individuals conspire to make their stories conform this does not occur in written records.
Of one thing we can be sure, that the stories credited to ancestral origin are traditional and genuinely so. This does not prove the basis of the tradition to be factual but it does demonstrate that succeeding generations deemed it of sufficient value to pass on to their posterity. Having determined that accounts are genuine traditions, our task is to ascertain the element, or elements, basic to all of them, and we will then know the core of the original, free from the later modifications and amendments created by passing time.
Traditions must have a beginning and that beginning
must either be in fact or in supposition. In the case of the traditions to
which we allude it can be said that those who received them believed implicitly
that they accounted for the origin of the earth and of mankind. This indicates
that those who conveyed them also accepted them and transmitted them as factual.
It would appear that the antiquity of the traditions would be strong evidence
for the existence of God and the creation of the material universe.
For a great many centuries men have pointed to nature as demonstrating the existence of God. In our previous chapter we cited the statement to this effect as made by the apostle Paul to the Romans. Other writers of the scriptures, both old covenant and new, have made the same appeal. In addition to these, great thinkers through the centuries have regarded the natural realm as an effect which demanded a supernatural and intelligent personality as essential to its origin.
Any attempt to explain the universe by eliminating God does not solve the problems or answer the questions. It increases both. It is as if an inventor created an intricate lock mechanism for a huge safe containing untold wealth, and provided the proper combination for access, only to have those in charge of the safe throw the combination away to experiment blindly with millions of possibilities in an attempt to gain entrance to the treasure. It is useless for those who reject God from their thinking to argue that their intellectual integrity is at stake for one must be much more credulous to accept their substitute theories than to believe in God.
Some men are so foolish as to think that God can be discounted and they themselves be considered as honest doubters. This is not the case at all for the mind cannot continue as a vacuum. Man is so constructed as to require faith. All business and economic progress is based upon this principle, and in transacting our daily affairs we actually and practically "walk by faith and not by sight." The same thing is true in our attitude toward the world and ourselves. In the final analysis the choice is not between faith on one hand and doubt upon the other, but between rival systems of faith. It is not a question of whether we shall believe or not believe, but simply one of what (or whom) we shall believe.
Since the question is one of divergent forms of faith, it is obvious that the same criteria must be applied to the form of faith which denies God as to that which accepts Him. It is here that the "unbelieving believer" fails to measure up. He is like a merchant who has two sets of scales; one to use in purchasing, the other in selling. Or, like a man with two "yardsticks" of different lengths. When the same rigid tests are applied to the alternatives offered for God in creation, as are applied to the concept of God, it will be found that what is called honest doubt is not honest at all.
Men talk about having an open mind and infer that such a mind is one which settles on nothing. But there are absolute truths and upon these the mind is designed to close and retain them as foundational or axiomatic to the rational processes. On the farm where we lived we had a gate which insisted on swinging shut while we were trying to drive through to the field, so we propped it open with a chunk of wood. At the end of the season when we tried to close it we could not do so because the hinges had rusted and no longer allowed the gate to function. An open mind is not always a flexible one especially when it is kept open by an arbitrary prop. Some minds stay open because they cannot be closed and everything goes through while nothing worthwhile is retained.
It has long been a feeling of ours that the majority of those who live closest to nature have an abiding trust in God. There are exceptions, of course, but generally speaking, men who wrest a personal living from the soil feel a sense of nearness unto God. This may prove little, or nothing, about the subject at hand, but the humility which comes from a recognition of one's inadequacy to make anything grow, coupled with the thrill of creativity as a partner of unseen forces, produces a feeling of relation to and reliance upon the Creator of the universe. Who should have a firmer trust in God than one who works directly with the elements He has made and the forces He has set in motion.
There was a time when mention of this fact was countered with the reminder that those who worked the soil were less educated and unsophisticated. That day is past and modern skeptics can no longer make it appear that "the greater the ignorance, the greater the faith." The argument was not even valid in the days of restricted educational facilities in rural areas, for there have always been men like Sir Isaac Newton, to affirm, "The whole diversity of created things could have its origin only in the ideas and the will of a necessarily Existing Being."
We rejoice at the new discoveries in the physical realm. It would seem obvious that, if God exists and created all things, the deeper we penetrate into a study of the result, the more we will come to appreciate the cause behind it. The true believer welcomes all objective research and thrills at every scientific breakthrough. A few years ago we were limited to a study of the atoms in the world, now we can study a world of power in each atom. There is no danger of displacing God by learning more about Him and how He works. The God of the ages will command the Space Age, as he did the Stone Age, the Iron Age, the Machine Age, and even the Dark Ages.
If it was essential to postulate God in order to explain the presence of universal power, how much more essential is it to rest upon God as the explanation of atomic energy. It is hardly conceivable that the power which exists in the atom was self-generative, and to argue that such could happen would involve interminable guesswork as to what "triggered" it originally. The power to pull the trigger must reside in someone or something before it is applied to the trigger and this destroys the very idea of self-generation by conditioning it upon application of existing force. Since it is the nature of energy unconfined to expend itself, and since the power brought to bear in order to confine it must be greater than the energy, how can we account for energy being confined to the atom?
It is our own conviction that the natural realm argues the existence of God on the basis of two things: what has happened and what has not happened. The universe is here. We are a part of it and so conditioned that we can hardly continue in it without seeking to account for it. We must seek an explanation for what we see and experience. But our investigation has led us to discover potent chemical forces which would destroy the universe itself except that they are kept in intricate balance. To us, the most satisfying explanation is that of a personal and intelligent being "one God and Father of all, who is above all, and through all and in you all."
In our previous chapter we spoke of design in nature and reasoned that this presupposed a designer who was intelligent. The highest expression of mind and the greatest demonstration of mental ability, is to take a number of unrelated physical things which are unconscious, and set them in such relationship with each other as to make them function in unison and serve the purpose of conscious design. Being wholly unconscious of relationship, function, design or purpose, such unity in consistent function can only result from an intelligent consciousness acting purposefully upon such things.
This can be demonstrated by such simple objects as the alphabet blocks with which little children amuse themselves. The blocks are simply material composed of wood or plastic and are wholly unconscious of any relationship to each other. The letters of the alphabet imprinted upon them are visible symbols which have come to be accepted as representative of certain speech sounds. If we enter a room and find the blocks arranged in such a fashion as to spell out a simple sentence such as, "See the cat and dog," we immediately arrive at the conclusion that someone possessed of mental power has consciously arranged them thus. We know that neither the letters nor the blocks have power to arrange themselves so as to convey thought and we also recognize that the law of probabilities precludes the possibilities necessary for the blocks to fall into line and into the required sequence when casually tossed into the air. We have no hesitancy in concluding that personal conscious power was brought to bear upon them and arranged them to conform to design.
But such an illustration is far too simple to even approximate the complex relationships in the physical realm. Let us suppose that we go by a printing shop and see the fonts of type with thousands of upper and lower case letters. The next day we pass that way again and find the letters now composing a masterpiece of literature. Will we not know that an intelligent power has created the masterpiece? Could there have been "A Tale of Two Cities" without the mental direction of Charles Dickens, or a "Pilgrim's Progress" without the conscious effort of John Bunyan? Could "The Gettysburg Address" have formed itself without the mental genius of Abraham Lincoln?
Think of the seven notes in music. Each of these
is a symbol for a tone which is merely a vibration in the air. The note,
the tone and the air are all unconscious. But the marvelous genius of Bach
or Beethoven could arrange the tones in such a manner as to create music
to thrill the hearts of men and women in all generations. The mind of Handel
is indelibly stamped upon the Hallelujah Chorus. In the same fashion the
mind of God is imprinted upon the universe and "the singing of the spheres"
is a composition of supernatural genius intelligently directed. The world
of nature is the result of personal creativity as certainly as was Longfellow's
"Psalm of Life" or Whittier's "Snowbound."
Physically, man is an animal. His body is composed of bones, muscles, sinews, tissues, veins and blood, as are the bodies of other animals. But if there is a difference between man and the other animals we need to know what it is. The fact that others are called "lower animals" indicates that man is higher and more majestic. What is the difference? Sometimes man is called "a thinking animal." Sometimes he is called "a religious animal." This implies that other animals are not rational, that is, they are not capable of reasoning, so they are not capable of worshiping or reverencing a higher being.
There is some quality in man which makes it impossible for him to be satisfied with material things. A hog can fill his stomach and lie down without a care. But man can dwell in a state of luxury and still be restless. His stomach may be full but his heart and life may be empty. There is a yearning deeply imbedded in the human personality which no earthly companionship can ever fully satisfy. The spirit of man reaches out for the source of all life. Not long ago we took some flowers in for the winter and placed them in the basement not too far from a small window. It was not long until every plant was bending toward the sunlight which filtered through the glass. In the same fashion the soul reaches out its invisible tendrils toward the Sun of righteousness.
The ancient psalmist said, "My heart pants for God as the hart pants for the water brook." The picture we conjure up is that of a deer relentlessly pursued by dogs or wolves. The frightened creature runs with tongue hanging out and body dehydrating because of perspiration, while the throat becomes dry and constricted due to the rigors of the chase. But finally respite comes at sight of a brook of clear, cool water which serves to revive the flagging energy. The animal is so constructed as to require water to survive and water is to be found in every part of the earth. The longing finds an answer and the need is met.
It would be incongruous indeed if provision was made for every need of man except the highest and noblest. The testimony of millions will show that there is no void or vacuum at the summit of human desire and longing. They have not reached out into emptiness but have found a response to their cries. The hungering soul is fed. The thirsty heart is refreshed. The lonely are comforted with the thought of companionship which is real, though unseen.
Inherent in mankind is a sense of justice which demands that wrongs be righted, that inequalities be adjusted, and that ruthless oppression be punished. This has driven men to defy tyrants at the cost of life, to plead for recognition of human rights and to establish courts of equity. Still there is a constant sense of futility in the attempt to secure absolute justice in this life. Man has an ideal which he has not been able to reach. He is cognizant that there are shortcomings in any system which he creates.
There are no judges able to read the hearts of men or to determine actual motivations. Any attempt to set up a scale of responsibility ends in failure. The judges that are appointed sometimes fall victim to their own cupidity and are not free from taking bribes to thwart the demands of justice.
Is the principle upon which man proceeds--that every crime deserves punishment--a valid one? If it is not, then a criminal is as guiltless as a just person, and in the final analysis there is no such thing as crime. Against this form of theorizing the whole experience of the human race cries out and every law lifts up its voice in protest.
If the principle is valid, who will bring justice to attainment? Who will deliver to the dock the greedy and rapacious who have trampled roughshod upon the poor and helpless and exploited them in their insane attempts to command power and wealth and bask in luxury? Who will avenge the millions of widows and starving orphans who have been bereft of their husbands and fathers by warmongers who have literally waded through the warm blood of those innocent ones whom they have slaughtered?
Who will repay the callous-hearted who have herded men into gas chambers by the millions and have snuffed out human lives as carelessly as they would extinguish the flame of candles on a birthday cake? Who will exact retribution for the blood of martyrs burned at the stake, or flayed into ribbons of bleeding flesh at the gibbet, or reduced to insensibility on the rack?
Will there be no final vindication of the life of idealism or the cause of righteousness? Will the future be simply an increasing and eternal struggle to determine the validity of the two opposing concepts that might makes right or that right makes might?
Is there no umpire in the struggle of life, no ultimate referee? Will there be no final whistle blown to announce the end of the conflict? The very history of mankind cries out for a decision which will be universally pronounced upon what the poet calls "man's inhumanity to man" which he says, "makes countless thousands mourn."
Shall those who have fattened themselves upon their fellows and wallowed in the pens of their own swinish greed have no day of slaughter? Will the books never be closed and no trial balance ever taken? Surely there must be a Judge and a judgment day, else life itself is meaningless, useless and purposeless.
There is another aspect of human existence which we must not overlook. The deep longing to live forever argues that the grave cannot be the end of human destiny. In a hundred subtle ways the concept of the better life beyond intrudes itself into our thinking. It is the source of the purest hope which sustains man in a world which is often filled with problems which defy solution. All of us have had the experience of working late to meet an examination or to complete a project, only to have the solution escape us. We have comforted ourselves with the thought that after a night of sleep we may arise to a new day when the answer may become plain.
We struggle throughout life's day for the real meaning of existence. When we have some of the data of experience collected until we can begin to understand the purpose of life, we find ourselves powerless to hold our eyes open and we drift off into the dreamless slumber called death. Is there to be no awakening to a fairer day when faith can be realized in sight?
Those whose bodies are wracked with pain through a great part of their earthly sojourn, or whose limbs are crippled and distorted so as to defy normal use, sigh for a world where pain is banished and "the crooked will be made straight." Fathers and mothers who see the lives of their children warped by sin and who behold the tragic fruits of excess and immorality pray for a world where sin cannot enter and all that defiles will be debarred. Those who follow the caravans which wend their way to the silent cities of the dead, whose frames shake with sobs and whose cheeks glisten with tears, longingly look for a day when all tears will be wiped away and there will be no more sorrow, separation or death.
There is in most of us a rebellion against the philosophy that the intellect which can probe the secrets of space, discover the power of the atom, and direct the channels of electronic skills, can be rudely extinguished forever by a drunken and irresponsible driver, or by a crazed dope addict with an assassin's blade. Even those who ridicule the thought of a life beyond, find themselves, when really confronted with the death of a loved one, in an inner turmoil which cannot resolve itself by the forced thought of utter oblivion.
A classic example of this fact is found in the case of Robert G. Ingersoll. After years of lecturing against Christianity for a fee, and of scoffing at the Bible and the church, the renowned orator found himself called upon to speak at the funeral of his brother. As he gazed upon the casketed form of one whom he described as "a brave and tender man," his eyes filled with tears he could not hide and finally he bowed his head upon the coffin in uncontrollable grief. It was only after a great struggle for composure that he read the funeral oration which contained the following memorable words:
Life is a narrow vale between the cold and barren peaks of two eternities. We strive in vain to look beyond the heights. We cry aloud, and the only answer is the echo of our wailing cry. From the voiceless lips of the unreplying dead there comes no word; but in the night of death hope sees a star and listening love can hear the rustle of a wing.
The star of which the noted infidel spoke is the
glimmering light of eternity inherent in the human personality from the
beginning; the rustling wing is that of the celestial messenger of hope come
to conduct the faithful to a better clime. Victor Hugo said, "The thirst
for the infinite proves infinity."
There is either a God or there is not. Every nation in history has paid tribute to a belief in deity. This belief has been so predominant as to affect the laws, customs and cultures of the nations. It is a universal belief and it is also one which is as old as the written records of these nations. The earliest of those records affirm that they are but written accounts of tradition alleged to have originated in the beginning.
Such traditions either have a basis of fact or they do not. Man either derived the idea of God from tradition from the beginning, based upon fact; or from the external testimony of nature; or the internal and inherent principles which are a part of the human personality and being--or the idea is the product of his own reasoning.
It is this last upon which the atheist depends for an answer. But if this be true it is evident, according to its advocates, that man's reason has worked a universal deception and cannot be trusted at all. Would one place any confidence in an international counterfeiter who had palmed off his nefarious and worthless creations upon the most learned of all nations?
The idea of God exists. It is as old as mankind. If that idea is purely the result of reason and reason is so deceptive how can the atheist know that he has not been deceived, and that his reasoning has not led him into a blind alley?
We have no intention to derogate reason or its powers, but reason is the means by which we test and measure theories to determine whether they are true and factual. It is admitted by all that human reason is imperfect because no one has all of the data at his command. Is there no perfect Mind in the universe by which reason must be measured?
The Bureau of Standards in our national capitol maintains the perfect ounce as the basis of weights and the perfect inch as the basis of length. There is an observatory which constantly corrects time to offset deviation in official clocks. If one did not know what constituted a straight line he could not identify or designate another as crooked.
We believe that the very nature of reason demands that there be a Mind that is perfect and that where there is science there must somewhere be omniscience as the final arbiter. Jean de La Bruyere said, "The very impossibility in which I find myself to prove that God is not, discloses to me His existence."