Chapter 17

But are there any willing to labour? Yes; many are labouring, and thousands in this land are prepared in spirit to join them; for every Christian has a longing to do something for God's kingdom on earth, and to employ usefully time and talents which he feels are running to waste. Why, then, with so much to do through a living agency, and with a great army of living agents yet unemployed, is there so little done? We reply again, from want of congregational organisation. Our congregations want order, method, arrangement. There is not yet a sufficiently clear apprehension of what their calling is in the world, or of the work given them to do; nor is there found that wise and authoritative congregational or church direction and government, which could at least suggest, if not assign, fitting work for each member, and a fitting member for each work. Hence little, comparatively, is accomplished. The most willing church-member gazes over a great city, and asks in despair, "What am I to do here?" And what would the bravest soldiers accomplish in the day of battle, if they asked the same question in vain? What would a thousand of our best workmen do in a large factory, if they entered it with willing hands, yet having no place or work assigned to them? And thus it is with many really self-denying Christians; because a practicable and definite field of labour is not pointed out, the necessary result is idleness--unwilling idleness; or self-organised and self-governed "associations," "committees," "societies," spring up to accomplish what the Christian society itself was designed to, and could accomplish in a much more efficient and orderly manner; or, as it more frequently happens, those energies and ardent feelings, and love of excitement even, which could have found sufficient scope for healthy exercise in such practical labours of faith and love as we have alluded to, are soon engrossed by merely speculative questions about "the church," or about "religion," and the stream which, had it been directed into a right channel, and to a right point, would have been made a power for immense good, soon rushes over the land a wide-spread, muddy, devastating flood, oozes out into stagnant marshes, full of miasma and fever, or evaporates into thin air!

THE CURE FOR SCHISM.

"Schisms" are not peculiar to the Church of the present day, nor are they "the result of Protestantism," as some allege, unless Protestantism is understood to represent that doctrine which is termed "the right of private judgment," but which might be described rather as the absolute necessity for each man to believe the truth for himself, and not to be satisfied that another man should see and believe it for him. This "doctrine," which is essential to the reception of any truth whatever, must necessarily open the way to error; just as the possession of reason, which is essential to a man's thinking at all, must, in every case, involve the risk of his thinking wrong.

But we know something of a Church founded by an apostle, presided over for a time by an apostle, which was full of schisms. This was the Church of Corinth. (See First Epistle to the Corinthians, first three chapters.)

These schisms were marked by differences of mind and judgment; and by "envying, strife, and divisions." Its "Protestantism" may, no doubt, have occasioned this.

But along with these divisions, and partly their cause, partly their effect, there was not only a warm attachment to particular ministers, but positive antagonism to others professing the same faith, and doing the same work. From the sameness of human nature in every age, we can quite understand how each party would defend their sectarianism. "We are of Apollos," some might have thus said. "We do not admire Peter. He is too much of a Jew for us; besides, he denied his Lord, and dissembled along with Barnabas at Antioch. We prefer our own minister even to Paul. He is a much more eloquent man; of a much more commanding figure and appearance; and how profound he is in his knowledge of the Scriptures!" "We are of Paul," others might have cried; "for he was chosen specially by Christ; and he has been honoured by Him more than all; and does not the Church of Corinth, moreover, owe its very existence to his preaching and labours? It is a shame to belong to any other!" "We cling to Peter," a third party might have said; "he lived with Christ when He was on earth, saw His miracles, heard His words, was treated after the resurrection with special love, and received from Him a special commission to feed His sheep. Apollos is no _apostle_; and as for Paul, he persecuted the Church, and confesses himself that he is not meet to be called an apostle. Apollos is good, Paul better, but Peter is best!" "We belong to neither," others could have boasted: "your divisions are so many, your differences so great, that we have retired from all your meetings in weariness; and each of us are of Christ only, and call no man master but Him; you should all join us, the _Christians_:"--thus making use of the very name of Christ to characterise a sect. Such were some of the schisms; and to the schismatics St Paul said, "Ye are yet carnal: for whereas there is among you envying, and strife, and divisions, are ye not carnal, and walk as men? For while one saith, I am of Paul; and another, I of Apollos; are ye not carnal?"

The apostle desired to heal those schisms, and to bring the members of the Church into one mind. How did he endeavour to effect this?

Had he been a Papist, he might have said--"Why thus divided? Because you are not building on the one true foundation, which is Peter! Do you not understand the meaning of the name, _Cephas_, or the Rock, given to him, and intended to teach all Christians that the temple of the Church was to be built upon _this_ rock, and this only; against which the gates of hell cannot prevail? Therefore, you who say, 'I am of Cephas,' are right; all others are schismatics." Never, apparently, had a man a better opportunity of revealing to the world this great secret of unity than St. Paul had, if such was his faith, especially when he compares the Church to a building, and speaks of a foundation-stone. "As a wise master-builder," he says, "I have laid the foundation, and another buildeth thereon.... For other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is"--Cephas, or the rock? No! but "_Jesus Christ_." Not one word of Cephas as the centre of unity. Strange silence for a "Roman Catholic!"

Had Paul been a "High Churchman," viewing with deep awe the mystery of sacramental grace, we can understand how he would have spoken to the schismatic Corinthians of the vast importance of their submitting to absolute apostolic authority, and of "the awful powers with which God's ministers had been vested, of regenerating souls by the waters of baptism;" and how "such a clergy should command unqualified obedience." If these, or anything like these, were Paul's sentiments, and such as we are every day familiar with, it is not easy, to say the least of it, to account for his language to the Corinthians. What does _he_ say of the exalted privilege of being able to baptize? "I thank God I baptized none of you, but Crispus and Gaius:" strange words from a "High Churchman!" or a "High" Baptist! "I baptized also the household of Stephanas: besides, _I know not_ whether I baptized any other:" strange forgetfulness on such a supposed centre point of Church unity! "For Christ sent me not to baptize, but to preach the gospel:" strange idea of the relative importance of preaching and baptizing for a "High Churchman" to hold! And as to the "commanding authority" of the apostles, merely because they were apostles, apart from, the commanding authority of the eternal truth which they "commended" to the conscience and judgment of their hearers, Paul asks, "Who then is Paul, and who is Apollos?" Methinks we hear some exclaim: "Oh, these men were the greatest, the most remarkable, the"--We will not, however, take up space by repeating the laudations with which some would exalt their authority, with the view of magnifying the mere official authority of the clergy. But what says the apostle himself? He says they were only "ministers by whom ye believed." It was not the minister who did good, but the truth which he ministered, and which he had received from another. It was not the man who sowed the seed, or the basket which held it, that gave the crop; but the living seed itself. Hence he adds: "So then neither is he that planteth _anything_, nor he that watereth!" What? Neither presbyter nor bishop, neither Paul nor Apollos, _anything_? Strange words, again we say, from a "High Churchman," whether Episcopalian, Presbyterian, or any other denomination; _for "High Churchmen" are common to all Churches_. Yet not strange from St Paul, who knew how true his words were, and that not man, but God, who gave the increase, was "everything."

What, then, was the apostle's method of curing schism, and of making men truly one who had been "divided?"

He directed every eye, and every heart, and every spirit, to one object--JESUS CHRIST, the personal Saviour, the centre and source of unity; in fellowship with whom all men would find their fellowship with each other.

"We preach Christ crucified." "I determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ, and Him crucified." "For other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ." These are his declarations. And his conclusion from this great and blessed principle is just what we might expect: "He that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord." "Let no man glory in men: for all things are yours; whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come: all are yours; and ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's."

Professing Christians would do well to weigh the apostle's cure of schism. Our divisions of heart and alienation of spirit are unworthy of educated men, and of the citizens of a free state, while they are in spirit utterly subversive of the whole principles of Protestantism. What! not able to hear the gospel preached from the lips of a minister of another church, nor to remember Jesus with him or his people? Not willing even to be on kind, or perhaps on speaking terms with a brother minister? Such things not only have been, but _are_; and while, thank God, they are repudiated and detested by men of all Churches, they are common, we fear, among too many. No wonder Roman Catholics point at our frequent boasting of Protestant "oneness in all essentials," and ask with triumph, how it happens, then, that we are such enemies on mere non-essentials? How it is that we pretend to be one when attacking Papists, and then turn our backs on each other when left alone? No wonder the High Churchman of England asks the Presbyterians in Scotland to forgive _him_ if he never enters our Presbyterian churches, hears our clergy, partakes of our sacraments, when so very many among ourselves practically excommunicate each other. No wonder the infidel lecturer describes to crowds of intelligent mechanics, in vivid and powerful language, the spectacle presented by many among our Christian clergy and people, and asks, with a smile of derision, If _ithis_ is a religion of love which they see around them--if these men believe the gospel--and if Christians have really more kindness and courtesy than "publicans and sinners?" Worse than all, no wonder our churches languish, and men are asking with pain, why the ministry is not producing more true spiritual fruit, which is love to God and man? The Churches are, no doubt, _doing_ much. We have meetings, associations, and organisations, with no end of committees, resolutions, and motions; we raise large sums of money; we have large congregations;--yet all this, and much more, we can do from pride, vanity, love of party, love of power, the spirit of proselytism, and the like. We may possess many gifts, understand mysteries and all knowledge; we may bestow our goods to feed the poor, in zeal for Church or party we may be willing to give our bodies to be burned; but before God it profiteth us nothing, unless we have the "love that suffereth long, and is kind, that envieth not, that vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things,"

Surely our schisms may be healed if there be a Saviour thus to heal them!

One word in conclusion. Neither the letter nor the spirit of the apostle's teaching condemn a warm and firm attachment to "our own Church," but antagonism only to other Churches. A soldier may love, and ought to love his own regiment with peculiar affection, more especially if he has been born in it, and brought up from childhood, as it were, in its ranks. And it should be his honest pride to see that it is one of the best drilled, most orderly, most efficient, and bravest in the whole army. But that is no reason why he should go about with a drum to recruit from, weaken, or break up other regiments; or why he should deny that there _are_ other regiments which equally belong to the grand army, and may be even more efficient than his own, though they do not wear the exact pattern of uniform, or may charge on horseback while his marches on foot, or possess cannon while his own have but small arms. Why should he be jealous of their achievements? Why should he be disposed to fight against them instead of against the common enemy? And, worse than all, why assert and boast that this one regiment of his is _the_ army, while all others are mere unauthorised volunteers, or enemies in disguise? It is full time for sensible men to give up this vain boasting, proud antagonism, and irritating ambitious proselytism.

Instead, therefore, of any man attempting, what is impossible during a lifetime, to understand the distinctive principles of each of the many sections of the Christian Church, so as to "join" that one which seems most "pure" and "scriptural," he is much better, as a rule, to remain, if it is at all possible for him, in the Church of his fathers, in which he was baptized and reared, and to do all in his power, by his example, his prayers, and his steady, manly, firm attachment, to make "his own Church" more efficient, and to permit others, without interference, to do the same. Thus may a man be a good Presbyterian in Scotland, and also a good Episcopalian in England, or possibly a Nonconformist in both, unless he believes in the Divine origin and authority of some one ecclesiastical system, and the mundane origin of all others. With perfect consistency and sincerity he may dearly love his Church, but yet love Christians more, because he loves Christ best of all.

These sentiments may be considered by many good Christians as sinfully "latitudinarian;" but to all who think so we would suggest the following simple experiment. When they have perused with care and reflection those portions of the Epistles of St Paul, and those incidents in his missionary journeys, which reveal most clearly what we might term his "church views," let them conceive of this same holy apostle suddenly awaking from his grave and visiting the different churches in our country, and then honestly say, from what they know of his character and teaching, whether they think it improbable or impossible that he would countenance all our churches in so far as they sincerely desired to do God's will and advance His kingdom. Would he not as of old say, "Grace be with all who love the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity!"

"Pray for the peace of Jerusalem: they shall prosper that love thee. For my brethren and companions' sakes, I will now say, Peace be within thee. Because of the house of the Lord our God I will seek thy _good_."

THE UNION OF MAN WITH MAN.

The mutual dependence of material things is perceived on a moment's reflection. Not one atom in creation, for example, exists by itself or for itself alone, but, directly or indirectly, influences and is influenced by every other atom. The movements of the tiniest wave which rises slowly over the dry pebble on the beach, marking the progress of the advancing tide in the inland bay, is determined by the majestic movements of the great ocean, with all its tides which sweep and circulate from pole to pole. The rain-drop which falls into the heart of a wild-flower, and rests there with its pure and sparkling diamond-lustre, owes its birth to the giant mountains of the old earth, to the great sea, to the all-encompassing atmosphere, to the mighty sun; and is thus, by a chain of forces, united in its existence, its figure, its motion, and its rest, to the most distant planet, which, beyond the ken of the telescope, whirls along its path on the mysterious outskirts of space. Thus, too, the needle of the electric telegraph trembles beneath the influence of hidden powers which pervade the earth, which flash in the thunder-storm, awaken the hurricane, or burst in those bright and brilliant coruscations that shoot across the midnight of our northern sky. And so

"The whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God."

But the unity which exists among intelligent and responsible _persons_, their mutual dependence and relationship, is just as real as that which obtains among material _things_, and is far more wonderful, more solemn and important in its nature, causes, and consequences.

The human race is an organic whole. The individual man is more intimately united to every other man, and to all past and coming generations, than the leaf which flutters on the twig of a great tree is connected with the tree itself, and with every other leaf that swells its foliage, or with the seed which was ages ago planted in the soil, and from which the noble plant has issued. That organic unity of the Church, springing chiefly out of a common life, derived from Christ and maintained by His indwelling Spirit, and which the apostle Paul so fully illustrates by the union of the members of the human frame, holds equally true of the whole family of man.

And what is true in this respect of the human race, is as true of all spiritual intelligences in the universe of God. "We are all members one of another." We form a part of a mighty whole that finds its unity in God. Subtle links from within and from without in God's infinite network, bind us for good or evil, for weal or woe, to spirits of light and of darkness; to principalities and powers in other spheres and systems of being, from the lowest outcast in the unseen world of criminals, up to Gabriel before the throne of God; while over all, comprehending all, sustaining and harmonising all, is the great I AM--Father, Son, and Spirit.

Consider, for example, how, according to the arrangements of the Divine government, man is linked to man from the mere necessities of his physical and social being.

In this aspect of our life it is evident that its whole history is one of mutual dependence, and one in which we are compelled to receive and to give, to partake and to share. We enter upon life as weak, unconscious infants, depending every moment on other eyes to watch for us, and other hands to minister to us, while we kindle in their hearts the most powerful emotions, and unconsciously react upon them for joy or sorrow. But we are not less dependent on our fellow-creatures for our continuance in life from the cradle to the grave. There is not a thread of clothing which covers our body, not a luxury which is placed on our table, not an article which supplies the means of labour, not one thing which is required by us as civilised beings, but involves the labours and the sacrifices of others in our behalf; while by the same law we cannot choose but contribute to their well-being. The cotton which the artisan weaves or wears has been cultivated by brothers beneath a tropical sun, and possibly beneath a tyrant's lash. The tea he drinks has been gathered for him by brothers on the unknown hill-sides of distant China. The oil which lights his lamp has been fetched for him out of the depths of the Arctic seas by his sailor brothers; and the coal that feeds his fire has been dug out by swarthy brethren who have been picking and heaving for him amidst the darkness and dangers of the mine. If the poorest mother writes a letter to her son in some distant spot in India and puts it into the window-slit of a village post-office, without a word being spoken, how much is done for her before that letter reaches its destination! The hands of unknown brethren will receive it, and transmit it; rapid trains will hurry it over leagues of railways; splendid steamships will sail with it, and hundreds of busy hands will pass it from port to port, from land to land. It is watched day and night, through calm and hurricane, and precious lives are risked to keep it in security, until in silence and in safety, after months of travel, it is delivered from the mother's hand into the hand of her child.

And thus it is that, whether we choose it or not, we are placed by God as "members one of another," so that we cannot, if we would, separate ourselves from our brother. For good or evil, prosperity or adversity, we are bound up with him in the bundle of this all-pervading and mysterious life. If one member suffers or rejoices, all are compelled in some degree to share his burden of joy or sorrow. Let disease, for example, break out in one district or kingdom, and, like a fire, it will rush onward, passing away from the original spot of outbreak, and involving families and cities far away in its desolating ruin. Let war arise in one portion of the globe, it smites another. The passion or the pride of some rude chief of a barbarous tribe in Africa or New Zealand, or the covetousness and selfish policy of some party in America, tell upon a poor widow in her lonely garret in the darkest corner of a great city; and she may thus be deprived of her labour through the state of commerce, as really as if the hand of the foreigner directly took her only handful of meal out of the barrel, or extinguished the cruise of oil, leaving her in poverty and darkness to watch over her dying child.

Now all this system of dependence, as we have said, is beyond our will. We do not choose it, but are compelled to accept of it. It is a fact or power, like birth or death, with which we have to do in spite of us. No questions are asked by the great King as to whether we will have it so or not; yet of what infinite importance to us for good or evil is this great law of God's government. We are thus made to feel that a will higher than ours reigns, and that by that supreme will we are so united to one another, that no man can live for himself or die for himself alone; that we _are_ our brothers keeper, and he ours; that we cannot be indifferent to his social well-being without suffering in our own; that our selfishness, which would injure him, must return in some form to punish ourselves; and that such is the ordained constitution of humanity, that though love and a consistent selfishness start from different points, they necessarily lead to the same point, and make it our interest, as it is our duty, to love our neighbour as ourselves.