See A. H. Strong, Christ in Creation, 163-180, on The Fall and the Redemption of Man, in the Light of Evolution: “Evolution has been thought to be incompatible with any proper doctrine of a fall. It has been assumed by many that man's immoral course and conduct are simply survivals of his brute inheritance, inevitable remnants of his old animal propensities, yieldings of the weak will to fleshly appetites and passions. This is to deny that sin is truly sin, but it is also to deny that man is truly man.... Sin must be referred to freedom, or it is not sin. To explain it as the natural result of weak will overmastered by lower impulses is to make the animal nature, and not the will, the cause of transgression. And that is to say that man at the beginning is not man, but brute.” See also D. W. Simon, in Bib. Sac., Jan. 1897:1-20—“The key to the strange and dark contrast between man and his animal ancestry is to be found in the fact of the Fall. Other species live normally. No remnant of the reptile hinders the bird. The bird is a true bird. Only man fails to live normally and is a true man only after ages of sin and misery.” Marlowe very properly makes his Faustus to be tempted by sensual baits only after he has sold himself to Satan for power.
To regard vanity, deceitfulness, malice, and revenge as inherited from brute ancestors is to deny man's original innocence and the creatorship of God. B. W. Lockhart: “The animal mind knows not God, is not subject to his law, neither indeed can be, just because it is animal, and as such is incapable of right or wrong.... If man were an animal and nothing more, he could not sin. It is by virtue of being something more, that he becomes capable of sin. Sin is the yielding of the known higher to the known lower. It is the soul's abdication of its being to the brute.... Hence the need of spiritual forces from the spiritual world of divine revelation, to heal and build and discipline the soul within itself, giving it the victory over the animal passions which constitute the body and over the kingdom of blind desire which constitutes the world. The final purpose of man is growth of the soul into liberty, truth, love, likeness to God. Education is the word that covers the movement, and probation is incident to education.” We add that reparation for past sin and renewing power from above must follow probation, in order to make education possible.
Some recent writers hold to a real fall of man, and yet regard that fall as necessary to his moral development. Emma Marie Caillard, in Contemp. Rev., Dec. 1893: 879—“Man passed out of a state of innocence—unconscious of his own imperfection—into a state of consciousness of it. The will became slave instead of master. The result would have been the complete stoppage of his evolution but for redemption, which restored his will and made the continuance of his evolution possible. Incarnation was the method of redemption. But even apart from the fall, this incarnation would have been necessary to reveal to man the goal of his evolution and so to secure his coöperation in it.” Lisle, Evolution of Spiritual Man, 39, and in Bib. Sac., July, 1892: 431-452—“Evolution by catastrophe in the natural world has a striking analogue in the spiritual world.... Sin is primarily not so much a fall from a higher to a lower, as a failure to rise from a lower to a higher; not so much eating of the forbidden tree, as failure to partake of the tree of life. The latter represented communion and correspondence with God, and had innocent man continued to reach out for this, he would not have fallen. Man's refusal to choose the higher preceded and conditioned his fall to the lower, and the essence of sin is therefore in this refusal, whatever may cause the will to make it.... Man chose the lower of his own free will. Then his centripetal force was gone. His development was swiftly and endlessly away from God. He reverted to his original type of savage animalism; and yet, as a self-conscious and free-acting being, he retained a sense of responsibility that filled him with fear and suffering.”
On the development-theory of sin, see W. W. McLane, in New Englander, 1891: 180-188; A. B. Bruce, Apologetics, 60-62; Lyman Abbott, Evolution of Christianity, 203-208; Le Conte, Evolution, 330, 365-375; Henry Drummond, Ascent of Man, 1-13, 329, 342; Salem Wilder, Life, its Nature, 266-273; Wm. Graham, Creed of Science, 38-44; Frank H. Foster, Evolution and the Evangelical System; Chandler, The Spirit of Man, 45-47.
(c) It rests upon an incomplete induction of facts, taking account of sin solely in its aspect of self-degradation, but ignoring the worst aspect of it as self-exaltation. Avarice, envy, pride, ambition, malice, cruelty, revenge, self-righteousness, unbelief, enmity to God, are none of them fleshly sins, and upon this principle are incapable of explanation.
Two historical examples may suffice to show the insufficiency of the sensuous theory of sin. Goethe was not a markedly sensual man; yet the spiritual vivisection which he practised on Friederike Brion, his perfidious misrepresentation of his relations with Kestner's wife in the “Sorrows of Werther,” and his flattery of Napoleon, when a patriot would have scorned the advances of the invader of his country, show Goethe to have been a very incarnation of heartlessness and selfishness. The patriot Boerne said of him: “Not once has he ever advanced a poor solitary word in his country's cause—he who from the lofty height he has attained might speak out what none other but himself would dare pronounce.” It has been said that Goethe's first commandment to genius was: “Thou shalt love thy neighbor and thy neighbor's wife.” His biographers count up sixteen women to whom he made love and who reciprocated his affection, though it is doubtful whether he contented himself with the doctrine of 16 to 1. As Sainte-Beuve said of Châteaubriand's attachments: “They are like the stars in the sky,—the longer you look, the more of them you discover.” Christiane Vulpius, after being for seventeen years his mistress, became at last his wife. But the wife was so slighted that she was driven to intemperance, and Goethe's only son inherited her passion and died of drink. Goethe was the great heathen of modern Christendom, deriding self-denial, extolling self-confidence, attention to the present, the seeking of enjoyment, and the submission of one's self to the decrees of fate. Hutton calls Goethe “a Narcissus in love with himself.” Like George Eliot's “Dinah,” in Adam Bede, Goethe's “Confessions of a Beautiful Soul,” in Wilhelm Meister, are the purely artistic delineation of a character with which he had no inner sympathy. On Goethe, see Hutton, Essays, 2:1-79; Shedd, Dogm. Theology, 1:490; A. H. Strong, Great Poets, 279-331; Principal Shairp, Culture and Religion, 16—“Goethe, the high priest of culture, loathes Luther, the preacher of righteousness”; S. Law Wilson, Theology of Modern Literature, 149-156.
Napoleon was not a markedly sensual man, but “his self-sufficiency surpassed the self-sufficiency of common men as the great Sahara desert surpasses an ordinary sand patch.” He wantonly divulged his amours to Josephine, with all the details of his ill-conduct, and when she revolted from them, he only replied: “I have the right to meet all your complaints with an eternal I.” When his wars had left almost no able-bodied [pg 562]men in France, he called for the boys, saying: “A boy can stop a bullet as well as a man,” and so the French nation lost two inches of stature. Before the battle of Leipzig, when there was prospect of unexampled slaughter, he exclaimed: “What are the lives of a million of men, to carry out the will of a man like me?” His most truthful epitaph was: “The little butchers of Ghent to Napoleon the Great” [butcher]. Heine represents Napoleon as saying to the world: “Thou shalt have no other gods before me.”Memoirs of Madame de Rémusat, 1:225—“At a fête given by the city of Paris to the Emperor, the repertory of inscriptions being exhausted, a brilliant device was resorted to. Over the throne which he was to occupy, were placed, in letters of gold, the following words from the Holy Scriptures: ‘I am the I am.’ And no one seemed to be scandalized.”Iago, in Shakespeare's Othello, is the greatest villain of all literature; but Coleridge, Works, 4:180, calls attention to his passionless character. His sin is, like that of Goethe and of Napoleon, sin not of the flesh but of the intellect and will.
(d) It leads to absurd conclusions,—as, for example, that asceticism, by weakening the power of sense, must weaken the power of sin; that man becomes less sinful as his senses fail with age; that disembodied spirits are necessarily holy; that death is the only Redeemer.
Asceticism only turns the current of sin in other directions. Spiritual pride and tyranny take the place of fleshly desires. The miser clutches his gold more closely as he nears death. Satan has no physical organism, yet he is the prince of evil. Not our own death, but Christ's death, saves us. But when Rousseau's Émile comes to die, he calmly declares: “I am delivered from the trammels of the body, and am myself without contradiction.” At the age of seventy-five Goethe wrote to Eckermann: “I have ever been esteemed one of fortune's favorites, nor can I complain of the course my life has taken. Yet truly there has been nothing but care and toil, and I may say that I have never had four weeks of genuine pleasure.” Shedd, Dogm. Theology, 2:743—“When the authoritative demand of Jesus Christ, to confess sin and beg remission through atoning blood, is made to David Hume, or David Strauss, or John Stuart Mill, none of whom were sensualists, it wakens intense mental hostility.”
(e) It interprets Scripture erroneously. In passages like Rom. 7:18—οὐκ οἰκεῖ ἐν ἐμοί, τοῦτ᾽ ἐστιν ἐν τῇ σαρκί μου, ἀγαθόν—σάρξ, or flesh, signifies, not man's body, but man's whole being when destitute of the Spirit of God. The Scriptures distinctly recognize the seat of sin as being in the soul itself, not in its physical organism. God does not tempt man, nor has he made man's nature to tempt him (James 1:13, 14).