2. In Fellowship within the Kingdom.—And not only in coming into the kingdom, but also within the religious fellowship of the kingdom, we are emphatically members one of another. In bringing us into that love which is God's own life, God evidently has no intention of allowing us to cut ourselves off from our brethren, to climb up to heaven by some little individual ladder of our own. That humility or open-mindedness, which constitutes the first beatitude and the initial step into the kingdom, and that self-sacrificing love, which constitutes the last beatitude and the crown of the Christian life, are both possible and cultivable only in personal relations to others. No man ever got them alone. And, for this very reason, in the discussion of the religious life, we found the New Testament guarding most carefully against all over-estimation of marvelous experiences as such. For these tended to make a man feel that he had such an individual ladder of his own to heaven, and had no need, consequently, of his brethren; and so led him into the very reverse of the fundamental Christian qualities—into unteachableness instead of humility and open-mindedness, and into censoriousness instead of love. That objective attitude which is essential in all character and work and happiness, cannot be unimportant in our specifically religious life.
Even in this most individual relation to God, then, men's outlook is varied and but partial. We need to share, and can share, one another's visions. The meaning of the many-sidedness of even a great human personality gets home to us only so—through the various impressions gained by different men. Much more can God be revealed to us, even approximately, only so. The great and surpassing value of the New Testament lies exactly herein, that it gives the varied impressions upon the first Christian generation of God's supreme revelation—the most important individual reflections of Christ. The New Testament comes to stand, thus, in no merely external and mechanically authoritative relation to the life and faith of the church, but in the most interior and vital relation. And Bible study gets a new significance for us, as we see it, as at one and the same time our chief way to our own vision of God's actual, concrete self-revelation, and our deliverance from our merely subjective dreaming. We come to share in some living way the vision of these others who have seen most directly and most largely.
3. In Intercessory Prayer.—One particular application to our religious life, of this conviction of the social consciousness of our mutual influence, seems worthy of mention—its bearing upon intercessory prayer. Few other things in religion, one may suspect, seem less real to modern men. Can we ground the matter a little more deeply for ourselves, and give it reality, by showing its close connection with this deep-rooted conviction of the social consciousness?
We have already seen,[90] if character and love are to be realities to us, if the world is to be a real training-ground for moral character, and not a mere play-world—a nursery continually set to rights from without, that we must all be most closely knit together; that our choices must have effects in the lives of others; that we must be bound up in one bundle of life. And we do affect one another's lives in a thousand ways. In manifold directions we condition the happiness and temptations of one another. The unspoken mood of another, an expression of countenance, a tone, an emphasis, may affect our whole day.
Now, if the spiritual world is real at all, it is to be counted upon. Apparently, there is such a thing, for example, as a spiritual atmosphere in an audience—not, it may well be supposed, a magical matter, but really determined by the tone of the minds composing the audience. The actual mood of the hearers and of the speaker makes a difference. Results, great and important, are so changed often quite unconsciously. It may well be that God is the medium in all this. The attitude of the auditors is like unconscious, silent praying to God—the praying of their life, of their spirit.
But, whether one cares to look at this special case in such a way or not, we are, in any event, in our spiritual lives in the deepest way members one of another. Our spiritual condition inevitably affects others. We cannot sow to the flesh and reap life anywhere, in ourselves or in others. This is particularly true, of course, of those to whom we are bound in the closest life relations. That this is absolutely true in normal personal relations, when we are in the presence of our friends, all of us fully believe. The question simply is, May this law of mutual influence hold of those bound up with our lives even when they are distant from us or estranged? In giving the privilege of intercessory prayer, it may well be believed, God simply allows us to be, even then, what we are always so fully under other circumstances—an influence upon them, a condition of the good and growth of others. He simply allows the regular law of the spiritual and moral world to hold without exception. We are still, though distant or estranged, members one of another. It would be a very human, defective, faulty God, who could not put us thus in touch with our loved ones everywhere. But this is possible through him, and therefore in prayer, and under strictly ethical and spiritual conditions, and not as a matter of mere whimsical and wilful will on our part, and it opens no door to magical superstition. Is not the recognition of the place and value of intercessory prayer, then, an only just extension of the prime conviction of the social consciousness?
V. MUTUAL INFLUENCE FOR GOOD IN CONFESSIONS OF FAITH
Theology has, once more, in the third place, to recognize the importance of mutual influence for good in confession of faith, in creeds. When, to-day, we seek the common grounds of belief for Christian thinkers, so far as the social consciousness really moves us, we approach the problem in a way somewhat different from that of previous generations. We do not now seek to elaborate a second, modern Westminster confession; nor do we seek a mere average of Christian ideas that in reality expresses no one's whole living thought. Still less is there sought the barest minimum of Christian belief. Rather, in harmony with the social consciousness, we seek a unity that is organic. Our age, therefore, must recognize that, in the confession of its faith as in all else, we are genuinely members one of another. The unity sought not only tolerates differences, but welcomes and justifies them, as themselves helps to a deeper unity. It believes in equality, but not in identity.
It is true that Christianity looks everywhere to life; and we may be sure that any statement of Christian doctrine that does not obviously bear on living is still inadequate and incorrect. It is true that we do well to emphasize the strictly religious and practical purpose of the Bible; that the Bible is interested in both nature and history so far and only so far as either reveals God and inspires to godly living. It is true that in all Christian thinking Christ is our ultimate appeal.
But, on the other hand, we must not confuse the issue. We cannot expect agreement in detailed intellectual statements even with fullest loyalty to Christ, and the most earnest desire after truth. To each his own message. Nor can we confine, nor is it desirable to confine, expressions of Christian faith to the merely practical side. We need to seek to understand the meaning of our Christian experience, not only for the sake of our intellectual peace, but also for the sake of deepening our Christian experience itself. Now, it is here contended that in our confessions of Christian faith we need one another, and that complete uniformity of belief and statement is both impossible and undesirable.