The Incarnate Purpose: Essays on the Spiritual Unity of Life

by G. H. Percival

I
THE SPIRIT OF TRUTH

There exists in certain religious circles the idea that criticism of Christian doctrine is an undesirable thing, because indicative of a spirit of irreverence and faithlessness that is at variance with the fundamental principles of Christianity. According to Catholic teaching, the Church is founded upon divine revelation, to doubt the reality of which is to question the truth of the Word of God. It is not to be supposed that the finite understandings of men can fathom the infinite mysteries of God. Does not the conception that it is possible for the divine truths of religion to be comprehended by means of the same evidential methods adopted in the acquisition of secular knowledge, imply a practical denial of the existence of a supreme God, since the creature would thus be made to appear as equal in wisdom and power with the Creator?

Most seekers after the Word of God meet at one time or other with some such argument against the propriety of their endeavours to obtain evidence of the intrinsic truth of Christian teaching. But the charge of irreverence brought against honest inquiry is powerless to affect the belief, held by many educated men and women, that a pure desire to know and to do the will of God necessitates the exercising of intellectual as well as of spiritual faculties, in order that what is true in the teaching offered to them in the name of Christ may be separated from what is false, to the greater glory of God and to the furthering of the divine purpose of Life.

Hostility towards criticism of religious doctrine appears to all impartial minds to be not only of doubtful service to the cause of Religion as a whole, but also to cast discredit on the ability of any particular creed to sustain an examination in detail of its articles. In an era when most things touching the health and general well-being of men are subjected to critical inquiry, it would be strange if their spiritual welfare should escape remark. Science has much to say about the food we eat, the clothes we wear, the habits of our daily lives; and we listen to what is said with due respect, because we know the aim of Science to be the improvement of the conditions of life through the elimination of error and harmful prejudice from the paths of progress; and because, by regulating our conduct by the reasonable principles recommended, we may contribute towards the amelioration of those conditions under which future generations of men will enter upon their inheritance of the earth. Is the authority claimed and exercised by the Church over the souls and minds of men to be unquestioned? Is the training of spiritual consciousness less important than the education and nourishment of the body? Scientific criticism may not be perfect, or its judgments infallible; but such as it is to-day, why may not its methods be applied to the elimination of falsehood and ignorance from things religious as well as from things secular?

The acquisition of knowledge has afforded throughout recorded history a perpetual basis for controversy on all matters which have excited sufficient interest or curiosity to command serious attention. It is difficult to think of any so-called natural phenomenon that has not at one time or other given rise to critical investigation, pursuit of which has sharpened the perceptions and widened the understandings of those whose energies have been engaged, and has thus contributed towards elucidation of the controverted subject. Especially is this remarkable in the declared differences between the exponents of scientific and religious doctrine. By reason of an intimate concern with the affairs of men, the methods of acquiring and imparting knowledge employed by the authoritative instructors of sacred and secular consciousness, offer an open field for controversy and challenge the criticism of all thinking persons. It will be admitted that the manner in which discussion is carried on, no less than the character of the conclusions arrived at, exerts an educative influence upon all questions of contemporary interest, so that, apart from the elucidation of Truth (which is the ideal end of controversy, but rarely its immediate outcome), an examination of the merits of conflicting opinions, or, in other words, a criticism of opposing opinions, would appear desirable if only as prefatory to the attainment of a more complete comprehension of the matter under dispute. The ultimate value of all such controversy is to a large extent determined by criticism, which acts as a salutary check on the tendency of most disputants to devote more attention to the question of who is right than of what is true; and where discussion is unattended by such restraint, a certain vagueness of purpose and procedure is apt to seduce controversy from the path of rectitude into a ramble among the byways of personal prejudice, which argues ill for the elucidation of the original subject under dispute.

But in considering the utility of controversy between the exponents of scientific and religious doctrine, it should be borne in mind that a victory accruing to either disputant can be of tentative value only unless and until its permanent worth be certified by course of time to be indeed demonstrated evidence of intrinsic verity. Until this is so proven the last word has not been said, although the path towards a more complete settlement of the point at issue may have been in some measure cleared of an impeding refuse of erroneous ideas and prejudices. Therefore verdicts determining the merits of conflicting opinions relating to abstract or speculative thought can rarely be regarded as final, and it appears unreasonable for either priest or scientist to resent as an outcome of controversial differences an issue favourable to his opponent, since only in the event of a subsequent endorsement of its intrinsic truth by inclusion in the commonly accepted facts of natural knowledge can the ruling of the judgment remain in force. Therefore, since the avowed object of both disputants is the elucidation of Truth, which process necessitates a concomitant elimination of Falsehood, neither priest nor scientist should resent such a satisfactory outcome of their contentions. For if the results of controversial criticism be not endorsed by the course of time, but are shown instead to be errors of judgment, rectifiable by succeeding generations of men whose advance in power of discernment is attested by the ability to eradicate from doctrine errors hitherto undemonstrable as such, the justification of controversy is even so sufficiently proven, inasmuch as its employment has brought about an expurgation of Falsehood, which accomplishment is, in the dual interests of Science and Religion, as important as the affirmation and confirmation of Truth.

A retrospective view of religious and scientific doctrine does indeed reveal controversy, accompanied by criticism, as a considerable factor in the evolution of knowledge, and its employment is clearly recognisable as a means of expurgating much that was false in ideas held in former days. It is reasonable to suppose that the same drastic spirit of controversial criticism so apparent in the past and so active in the present, will continue to operate in the future. But an examination of the controversial methods exercised to-day shows a remarkable change of tactics from those in use, say two hundred years ago—a change that is the direct result of the displacement of ancient weapons of war by modern arms. Evidence has supplanted the use of subtle verbal argument and carefully constructed syllogisms, whose premises were frequently contrived to corroborate foregone conclusions—a method not compatible with that earnest desire for truth above all things which is the war-cry of modern times. Evidence is everywhere proclaimed as the proper test for truth; and he who enters the field of controversy to-day, whether he be the champion of scientific or of religious doctrine, must, if he wish to obtain a serious hearing, come equipped with evidence of the truth of what he propounds, and with evidence of the falsehood of what he refutes.

This change in the method of controversial criticism affects all branches of learning, and is gradually bringing about a reform in educational matters that bids fair to shake the foundations of many lines of long-established conventional thought. Nowhere is the change more apparent than in the working of our schools. A child is no longer punished for asking the reason of what he is taught; lessons learnt by rote are a disgrace alike to schoolmaster and scholar. It is not the pupil who is impertinent in demanding, but the teacher who is inefficient and culpable if he cannot supply satisfactory evidence of the truth, the reality, the reason of his instruction. The kindergarten system; the elaborate construction of object-lessons contrived by means of illustration to exercise the child's reasoning faculties; the nature study, so swiftly establishing its place in the national curricula—all these are the outcome of the demand for evidence as the proper test of supposed truth, and are significant of the spirit of the age. Young people are encouraged to think for themselves; to accept authority only when there is evidence forthcoming of its right to be so acknowledged; to look for evidential testimony of all that they are called upon to receive as facts.

Upon the subject of education, Science and Ecclesiasticism are now engaged in what, seen in the light of after days, may well appear as one of the most important controversies of the age. And it is upon the very question of the fitness of evidence as a legitimate test of truth, especially with regard to the suitability of its application to religious as well as to secular instruction, that the chief difference turns. While Science, convinced of the efficacy of evidential testimony, employs the principle as a weapon of attack and defence in controversial warfare, the ambiguous attitude of Ecclesiasticism towards a similar mode of procedure places her at a hopeless disadvantage against her antagonists, deprives her of influence in most matters of intellectual importance, and stamps her as a deterring factor in the progress of the world. What fighting power, equipped with obsolete weapons of the eighteenth century, would be justified in hoping to meet with success in an engagement with a foe who carried modern arms?

If children are taught to regard evidence as a proper test of truth in matters of secular interest, and to disregard that principle in connection with their religious instruction, it follows as a matter of course that a line of distinction must be drawn between secular and religious education. It is regrettable that, interwoven as the two elements have been for centuries in the training of children, their division now seems necessary and imminent. Had they continued to work harmoniously together, the present differences between scientific and ecclesiastical methods of instruction might have been averted. But it is lamentably evident that in adopting an attitude of disapproval towards criticism of her articles, the Church is bringing about a division in educational matters that is becoming more and more pronounced. What kingdom divided against itself can stand? How can we expect to train our children in the ways of Truth if we give them no consistent standard for estimating what is true? How dare we hope to rear a generation worthy of its inheritance of nearly twenty centuries of established Christianity, when we formulate a religious standard of integrity in opposition to that of the secular knowledge of the world?