ἰὰ φρενῶν δυσφρόνων

ἁμαρτήματα στερεά.

Soph. Antig. 1261, 2.

Having in the previous chapter described the influence which Christianity had in modifying the tenets of the Stoic school, we come now to the consideration of the influence which the latter exercised on the Christian Church. Beyond the bounds of the sect a widespread impression was made by the force of Stoic principles: and by these Christianity became affected in no small degree. There was so much about them which was real, and they appealed so strongly to the sympathies and pride of human nature, that even where their influence was unperceived and unacknowledged, it was nevertheless deep and lasting. The Stoic spirit gradually spread within the Church, and found there a new home for itself after the destruction of the school of philosophy to which it had given life. Even to the present day it has continued to exist, and still manifests undiminished energy.

The early Fathers, who came into contact with the Stoic system in its strength, saw its many excellences as well as its many defects. Being a wonderful advance on merely speculative philosophy, drawing men to the cultivation of the moral sense instead of indulging in wild dreams, there was much for the Christian to admire in its purpose. Still he would naturally be discontented with a great deal that it contained, as well as disappointed at the absence of much that it omitted. There was something to commend the system to many minds, in the fact that it taught the duty of cultivating the nobler part, of self-denial, of bringing the appetites into subjection to the will. There was a great deal of pretension also in the outward appearance of the philosophers and of their disciples, and this had an influence on many Christians, which became stronger as time wore on.

In endeavouring to decide how the Church was affected by this spirit, we perceive that there were two principal dangers to which the religion of Jesus was liable from Stoicism. These dangers were lest the purity of the Gospel should be overridden by the asceticism born of the Stoic spirit; and lest the foreknowledge and providential care of the great Father should be confounded with the fatalism which was so marked a feature of the Stoic belief. These dangers include others which will be noticed as we proceed.

There is a great proneness in many minds to look on self-imposed austerities as in themselves a mark of virtue. Hence men who have been discontented with the ordinary duties of life and attempted to find higher walks of excellence, have been looked on as superior to others. This spirit has shown itself in all countries and systems. Those who have yielded to it have generally affected a superiority over the rest of the world, and a peculiarity in their garb and manners. The Stoics were greatly influenced in this way. We read of their long robes, just as we read of the long robes of the Pharisees. Horace and Persius, in their Satires, bring before us the assumption of superiority by “the wise man.”

This spirit of asceticism found its way into the Christian Church. Perhaps jealousy lest the Stoic philosophy, or Jewish Pharisaism, should seem to have a more marked influence than Christianity, produced a desire to make a display of asceticism. Or it might be that a persuasion of the excellence of this, for its own sake, led Christian men to adhere to it. Whatever the motive, there was soon manifested, in the Church, an exaggeration of self-restraint. Men began to withdraw from the ordinary walks of Christian life. They began to despise the performance of merely common duties; and to sketch out new ways to perfection, which they thought better than those taught by the Saviour. They began to do violence to their natures. In fact they became Stoical, as if they thought the being so was an advance on being Christian.

Christianity is a religion eminently suited for the daily life of men. It teaches us to do our duty in the world. We are taught that the highest degree of piety is consistent with, and indeed implies, the performance of one’s proper part, as belonging to a great family, which has a right to the energy and service of each of its members. To do our duty amongst men, wisely and bravely, is taught us too by the example of the divine founder of our religion. A man’s interests and desires may often lie in the direction of his ordinary duties. There can be no true piety in relinquishing the post God has given him merely because his interest would induce him to retain it. On the other hand, our duties may often be difficult and distracting. In that case, we have no right to leave them. There is often greater victory in doing our work in the world than in fleeing into solitude for the exercises of devotion. He who makes his religion to consist of care for self only, who for selfish ends neglects the duties which every man owes to his fellow-men, has a very unsatisfactory sense of the doctrines of the Gospel. Yet we find early mention in the records of the Church, of men who cut themselves off from intercourse with their fellow-Christians, leaving their place in the human family vacant, their work undone. They assumed the air of peculiar sanctity, clad themselves in coarse garments, slept on the hardest of couches, often on the ground, covered only by a sheepskin, or some similar coverlet, lived on the humblest fare, and many of them thought it a peculiar virtue to forego the joys of the marriage-life. When we look at this state of things with the eye of reason, we see that it has really no claim on the veneration of mankind. If it was good for one, why not for another? If certain persons, by means of their seclusion and mortification of the flesh, as they termed it, made themselves peculiarly the loved of God, then might all men do so; for we are told, “there is no respect of persons with” Him[[61]]. But, if all were to adopt this system of living, what would become of human society? The earth would soon cease to be the scene of busy industry, commerce would die, and religion would be a bane instead of a blessing. If one man makes himself peculiarly the favourite of heaven by forswearing marriage, then of course all men might make themselves so by the same means. But if celibacy were universal, what would become of the human race? Yet it is the duty of every man to make himself as much like what God would approve as he can. And if celibacy is peculiarly acceptable to heaven, all should be celibates. This, however, would make it to be agreeable to the wishes of the Most High, that the race of man should come to an end. As this cannot be God’s will, so neither can celibacy be the state in which a man must be holiest and most approved by his maker. The fact is that Christianity does not teach any such an idea as this mistaken one, to which I have referred. This has its origin in the spirit to which Stoicism gave birth. The religion of Jesus is one of faith in another’s merits, as the first step of all; and then, from the loyalty to God which this produces, the believer is anxious to do the utmost he can to show his gratitude. He tries his best to please his King and Lord, by whatever means. He counts no sacrifice too great if called on to make it. But he is not to mark out a way different from the rule of the Gospel. He must be content to do God’s work in the place and by the means which His providence may point out. Since the Most High has implanted certain feelings and affections in all our natures, though it may be Stoical, it is hardly Christian to try to uproot them. The Gospel does not teach us to destroy natural affections, but to control them. It is true our appetites are not to be our masters; yet they are not evils; they are sent to be our servants, and are good gifts of heaven, if used aright. We are nowhere taught by God, that, to be His peculiar people, we must go out of the world, and live selfish and unsocial lives. The word of God lays it down as a mark of evil to be “without natural affections.” Our blessed Lord, in His prayer for His disciples and the future Church of all ages, said[[62]], “I pray not that Thou wouldest take them out of the world, but that Thou wouldest keep them from the evil.” The noble duty laid upon us is to show in our daily life the excellence and power of virtue.

Yet we find that very early in the history of the Church there were great numbers of persons leading lives of selfish seclusion, and claiming peculiar sanctity because of this. Their solitude, and the lonely places in which they chose to live, gave rise to the name of Monk, Hermit, and Anchorite. Very soon these men occupied the same position in the religious world that the Stoics held in the heathen. And because Christianity gave woman her proper place, as an heir of immortality, and did not neglect her as philosophy had done, the same rules of living became also common with that part of the Christian women which aimed at superiority, as prevailed with regard to the men. They separated themselves, were placed under peculiar discipline, and bound by special vows.