Thoughts on a Revelation

by S. J. Jerram

Still further, revelation must not only have some distinctive character; but, in order to be effectual for its purpose, it should carry along with it, to the original recipients,

a reasonable conviction of its authenticity. The Bible speaks of several professed modes of communication, and accepting them according to the ordinary meaning of words, and not in any mythical, or ideological sense, they appear to be such as might answer for the purpose of authentication. The Lord talked with Abraham. He appeared in a burning bush to Moses, spake to him and the children of Israel on Mount Sinai, and conversed with him afterwards on the top of that mountain, during a period of forty days. He spake in the night to Samuel. He appeared in a vision to Isaiah and others. To some He made Himself known in dreams. Christ spake to His disciples. All these are evidently ways in which God might communicate with man; and there is no difficulty in supposing that the attendant circumstances, such for instance as some of those recorded in the Bible, might be of such a kind as to authenticate the communication. It would be idle to argue that, because God does not make Himself known in any of these ways now, He has never done so; for, to omit other considerations, we may observe that, in accordance with the economy which prevails in the works of God, we have no reason to suppose that He would make special revelations to more persons than might be necessary for the purpose He had in view. If He revealed Himself to them, the promulgation of the revelation would be naturally and safely left to more ordinary instrumentality. At the present time, so far as Christians are concerned, they do not expect a special revelation to themselves, because, as they believe, God has already communicated all that He desires them to know.

But supposing a revelation to be sufficiently authenticated,—What may be reasonably expected as to the

extent of it? It is, we think, clear in the first place that no perfect knowledge of God and His relation to us could be communicated. Even if a direct presentation of the Infinite were given, the capacity of man could not grasp it, and therefore the result would be a finite conception; and, if the revelation were made by words or other signs, it is plain that these can only express the finite ideas of which they are the symbols.

Nor is there anything in this which need excite our surprise; for the limited nature of our knowledge with regard to God would be analogous to that which we have about other things. There is nothing with regard to which our knowledge is not limited. Some may be ready to affirm that we do not know things in themselves at all, but only the effects produced upon us, or their relation to us. We are not about to maintain this proposition; but it is at any rate plain that the most familiar objects, as science advances, often disclose to us new qualities, and that we have no reason to suppose that we are fully acquainted with all the qualities of even the simplest substances. There is no reason to expect that the book of revelation should be more explicit than that of nature.

Not only, however, must our knowledge, derived from revelation, be, in some degree, limited; but it is not difficult to see, why it would be probably kept even within the range of what it is possible for us to know. We can readily understand that the object of God in making a revelation would be to inform us about those things only, a knowledge of which might be essential to our interests; and here again the analogy of the natural world comes in to assist us. God has given to each existence such qualities as are requisite for the position in which it is placed. Ascending through the various classes of animals, we

find, as we advance, the capacities for knowledge increasing, and bearing a relation to their actual circumstances. The mole is not endowed with the far-seeing vision which is essential to the well-being of the eagle: nor, on the other hand, has the eagle the power of threading its way through the earth, without which the mole could not exist. Viewing man in relation to the natural world, we find that he has the power of obtaining that kind of knowledge which is necessary to his welfare here, although, in many respects, he is far surpassed by the keener perceptions of the inferior animals. God has in fact ordered and limited his knowledge with an express reference to the position which he is called upon to occupy. This throws light upon the subject of revelation. It is reasonable to expect that God would limit the knowledge communicated in that way also, by a consideration of the state in which man is placed here, and of that which, upon the supposition of a future state, he is to occupy hereafter.

So far as we have yet gone, there does not appear to be any reason why the knowledge, although limited, should not be accurate as far as it goes. Though we do not know all the properties of particular objects, we may know some of them, and may also safely reason about those with which we are acquainted, so long as we are careful not to introduce into the reasoning anything which does not result from our actual knowledge; and so, turning from nature to a revelation, we may learn much from it about God, as for instance, that He is a God of love and holiness; that He will act towards us in a particular manner; that He will punish some actions and recompense others; and this knowledge also may be a true knowledge, so far as it goes, and one that we may safely

act upon, although we may still be in ignorance of His exact nature and many points of our relationship to Him.

There is, however, a light in which revelation must be viewed, which involves considerations of a somewhat different character from those hitherto noticed, and to this we now turn. A revelation must not only be limited by the extent of the human capacity for receiving it, and by the proposed object of it, but also, in a considerable degree, by the state of knowledge existing in the world at the time it is made. In fact, without some such limitation, it would be unintelligible, and, consequently no revelation. As this truth has frequently been misapplied, we will endeavour to explain, as accurately as we can, our meaning. God could, perhaps, if He thought proper, give in an ignorant age a revelation, as full and explicit, as in a more enlightened period—a revelation we mean which should be understood—but it must be remembered that this could only be effected by altering the conditions under which human knowledge is acquired. For example, to have given a correct theory of the motions of the heavenly bodies, before the age of Newton, would have been impossible, without an entire change both in the existing state of knowledge, and also in the method of acquiring it. Down to the present time all history and experience testify to the fact that the acquisition of knowledge is gradual; but such a revelation, as that to which we have referred, would require that it should be made per saltum. If knowledge were given in this way the usual course would be completely changed; and not only so, but the knowledge communicated would be altogether out of proportion to that possessed on other points, and would place those who had it in a false and unsatisfactory state with regard to the world in which they lived. To