Am I a mere passing flash in the universal pan--a transient spark
struck off on the anvil of Chance--an accident in the realms of Space? Have I just
"happened?" or am I instead the partial fruition of some great design--a finite
expression of an infinite thought, atomic in proportions, divine in grand potentiality? If
there be a "Power not ourselves" behind the phenomena of creation, have I a
place in His purpose? Have I been included in the wide sweep of His extensive plans? or am
I of as little consequence to Him as is the dust upon the chariot-wheel, or the mote in
the sunbeam's path? Such is the problem as it affects the individual; and full evidence of
its universal interest may be found in the never-ceasing attempt to dissolve those
mysteries which hide its solution from the eyes of men, as also in the case with which
priestcraft has gained its unholy ascendancy through claiming a special knowledge of, and
power over, such matters.
When we rise from the problem as it affects the individual to the
problem in its relation to the race, the sheer immensity of the question stuns us. The
mere thought of an ocean of souls sweeping with unceasing flow over the falls of death
makes us realize how impotent we are to find a solution of the enigma through a mere
process of logic.
Such problems are the heritage of every man; and every religion which
men have followed, and every philosophy which has engaged the mental powers of humanity,
owe their existence to the pressure with which such problems have borne in upon the human
heart. Religion--the manmade kind--need not even be considered by us here; in its most
presentable forms it is but a pious agnosticism--a devout ignorance. Religion seeks for
feeling: Philosophy knowing; but neither the head nor the heart are competent in
themselves to grapple with the problem of destiny. Philosophy must necessarily prove
itself inadequate for the task, for it has nothing from which to reason as a
starting-point, and beginning nowhere it naturally ends nowhere. Philosophy being nothing
more than a comparison of possibilities, ending in the selection of the most probable,
cannot ever hope to attain to assured certainty. From such broken reeds we gladly turn,
and all the more gladly since God has not left us like
"Orphans crying in the night;
Orphans crying for the light;
And with no language but a cry!"
He has graciously revealed Himself, and in His word has given us all
necessary knowledge concerning "things to come."
In Christianity alone can we find the solution of this great mystery.
Its teachings bear no trace of the labored speculations of the Philosophers. Its
assertions have no affinity with the rash dogmatism of mere cultured guesswork. Its
pronouncements have the finality of truth. It lifts the veil between things present and
things to come without the slightest vestige of that timidity which naturally springs from
uncertainty of mind. It pushes materialism aside as being nothing but the weird fancy of
disordered brains and callous hearts, shows that man is more than a product of blind
forces with an origin in the unknown and a destiny in chaos, and instead traces his
genesis to the God of a love which knows no ending, a patience which never wearies, and a
wisdom able to overcome every obstacle with which rebellious wills would seek to thwart
His purposes of grace. It declares that this earth is not a whirling speck of matter
severed from all other spheres of being, but rather that its past and future are
intimately linked with the history and destiny of all other worlds, and that instead of
its being--like a straw in a whirlwind--the sport of gigantic forces, is guided on its
onward course by the Finger of God to a place of government and rule in the reconstruction
of the Universe. Nor must we imagine that the plans of the Creator include merely the
majority of men, for the God of the surplus sparrow will have no ultimate
"waste" in the fulfillment of His will.
But the truth of Christianity and the theories of Christians are not
synonymous terms, and as we are about to examine the latter the question as to how we may
distinguish the true from the false here presents itself, or if every theory contains
something of the truth then we must determine how we may separate those elements we should
accept from those we should reject. If we bear in mind that there is in truth a symmetry
between its parts, then we shall find that harmony is one of the best tests we can apply
to any doctrine submitted to us for examination. If a belief does not harmonize in full
with the teaching of Scripture, and the revealed character of God, or if it emphasizes one
of God's attributes so as to exaggerate it over His other perfections, then it must be
more or less untrue. In reading a poem if there is not a perfect balance maintained
between the different lines we become aware of its imperfection of the lack of rhythm
which it betrays, and we know that the meter has been thrown out of balance either by the
presence of a superfluous syllable, or the absence of a necessary one. God is the great
Poem of the Universe, and His ways are but the poetry of His attributes in their activity.
When, therefore, we seek to translate His ways into the terms of doctrinal statement, and
our translation betrays a lack of the poise and balance belonging to His perfections, we
know that such lack of harmony owes its existence to our having put into our statement
something that should have been left out, or having left out something we should have put
in.
In studying the theories of human destiny, instead of finding this
symmetry and balance in them, we find the reverse: and, as this doctrine does not stand
alone but is intimately connected with such vital subjects as the atonement, etc., we are
not surprised to find that incongruity here has transmitted itself to these other articles
of faith. And we may consequently expect that clearness of vision in one of these
doctrines must exert a clarifying influence on our views in regard to those other
subjects.
The importance of the doctrine of human destiny may also be inferred
from the fact that so many departures from the Christian faith owe their existence to a
revolt of conscience against those dogmas we call "traditional." Much of the
deplorable teaching in regard to such doctrines as Inspiration is but the result of a
revulsion against intolerable conceptions of God. If we can show that Scripture gives us a
view of God marvelous in its perfect harmony, and altogether foreign to the caricatures of
the Creeds, then we shall have deprived Error of the main apology for its existence.*
[*It is not denied that in many the apostasy is
due to a moral antagonism to evangelical truth, with which we cannot have the slightest
vestige of sympathy, but this should not blind us to the fact that with others the
departure from traditional views arises rarely from intellectual difficulties. The latter
class call for sympathy rather than caustic stricture.]
Without further preface we will proceed to the examination of the
principal theories which men have held, and still hold, in relation to the future life.
THE DOGMA OF ETERNAL TORMENT
AN exhaustive examination of the doctrine before us would require more
space than could be profitably allotted to it in the pages of a magazine. The reader must
therefore be prepared for a suggestive, rather than an exhaustive treatment of the
subject; and not be disappointed should he find here but seed thoughts requiring mental
effort in their proper development.
We cannot rise from nature up to God; nor can we ascend from theory to
truth. When we know God, then we can descend to an intelligent and enjoyable knowledge of
nature, for then we have the key which unlocks the mysteries of the material world;
similarly, when we possess truth we are in a position to analyze theory, for only then can
we accurately discriminate between the various elements of which each and every theory is
composed.
There is no truth (as held by man) entirely free from error, nor any
error altogether devoid of truth; indeed, not a few doctrines which we call false are but
grotesque truths-orthodoxies become heretical by distortion, exaggeration, or
under-statement. The theory of everlasting punishment is no exception. It has elements of
truth without a doubt, elements which have never failed to commend themselves to such as
are "spiritual;" but, because other of its elements are "carnal," or
earth-born, these latter have ever been the producing causes of heart-pain and
soul-misery, the entire doctrine being accepted, nevertheless, supported as it apparently
is by what purports to be a translation of the words of God, but which in reality is
merely a transcription of certain theories of the translators. This is no reflection upon
the personal integrity of the translators, nor upon the general excellency of their
version, their work being referred to only so far as it touches upon the subject of human
destiny. The truth of this will become evident as we proceed.
The dogma of endless torment rests upon a threefold basis, viz.,
(1) ASSUMPTION;
(2) TRANSLATION; and
(3) TRADITION.
These are the three main props of an unsound doctrine, the strength of
each depending to a large extent upon its fellows. We shall see how they bear the test of
investigation.
(1) ASSUMPTION. Speculation--the mother of assumption--has, of course,
no power for either good or evil in itself, it being simply a wild hazard at possible
truth--drawing the bow at a venture, as it were; but when erroneous speculation
crystallizes into unquestioned dogma, when its assumptions are foolishly and blindly
accepted as incontrovertible fragments of absolute. Truth, then it acquires an authority,
and wields a tyrannous despotism, to which it can advance no rightful claim. The baneful
effects of such folly may be found in abundance in the sphere of Science, where learned
men have fathered not a few absurdities and, on the discovery of their mistakes, have
attributed them to this very practice of accepting certain assumptions as being so
obviously true as to require no proof. Many a scientific dogma has collapsed the moment
its assumptive basis was called in question.
Taking things for granted, receiving without question certain
propositions the truth of which is supposedly self-evident, has produced its own evil
harvest in the domain of Theology. Thus, having preconceptions as to what God cannot be,
we interpret every Scripture which declares what He is in such a way as will not conflict
with those pre-conceptions of ours; having assumed that Heaven cannot be this or that, we
read every Biblical reference to it in the light of these suppositions; having affirmed
that the only way the saint can leave the world is through death, we explain (?) every
allusion is the Second Coming in harmony therewith. The Church has found to its sorrow
that its assumptions in regard to these and kindred subjects have been but so many
barriers and obstacles in the way of entering into the mind of God on such topics, and
that real progress only commenced with a serching criticism of theories we had brought to
Scripture, rather than derived from it. But we have been slow to question the assumptions
on which the dogma of endless torment is founded, assumptions just as gratuitous as those
which have hindered progress in the other subjects referred to.
Now when Scripture describes the duration of punishment it does not do
so in terms expressive of eternity. The Greek language was not without terms descriptive
of endlessness, but the Holy Spirit, in revealing the truth of God, persistently refused
to use those terms in connection with either sin itself, or its consequences. Instead of
those terms--terms which man unquestionably would have employed--the Spirit of God made
use of others, denoting not endless but age-long duration. Whether the "ages"
are eternal or not is a question which obviously cannot be determined by the word itself.
In order to settle this point appeal must be made to that which alone can define the
meaning of words, i.e., usage.
Just at this point we would mention one of the self-evident axioms of
literary interpretation, namely, that to understand the scope of a writer's terminology we
must study--not some other author's usage, but--the usage of that particular writer whose
meaning we would obtain. If the writer himself defines the sense, and points out the
limitations attached to the words he employs, then it would be sheer idiocy to try and
force upon them the sense which other writers may have attached to their use. If Aristotle
was the author of the New Testament Epistles, then Aristotelian usage would define New
Testament terms; but, seeing that Paul was the Apostle whose pen was used in their
production, common-sense itself demands that we consult the Pauline usage.
Had Paul's use of words been studied, the assumption that the age-times
are eternal would never have been made. Had that assumption not been made, the dogma of
endless torment would never have been foisted upon the Church of God; but once made the
sluice-gates were opened to admit a torrent of semi-philosophical trash into the crystal
stream of Bible truth. It is our urgent duty to filter out the adulterations as rapidly
and as thoroughly as we can, depending on our gracious God for the ability necessary in
such an important ministry.
As this--the definition of terms--is an important point, we will be
pardoned for repeating ourselves a little. What the writer desires to emphasize is, that
even if it were granted that Grecian philosophers conceived the ages and eternity as being
synonymous terms, that would not prove that Christian writers intended to convey Pagan
conceptions, especially when the New Testament use of the terms forbade such a
supposition. To say that because Christian writers and Heathen philosophers employed the
same terms they must therefore have used them with exactly the same associated ideas, is
equivalent to saying that because this term "aions" was used to describe
personal emanations from Deity--beings midway in station between Creator and
creature-—that consequently Paul taught the same Gnostic ideas when he also employed
that word.
The theory that the ages are eternal is the main assumption on which
the dogma of endless torment rests, being always appealed to in fact as the final
"proof" of every other assumption it contains. Think of appealing to one error
in order to prove others! Imagine a heretic appealing to heterodoxy in order to prove his
heresy! A chain, we are told, is only as strong as its weakest link. This link in error's
chain is not only weak, but FRAGILE.
Hitherto we have considered the purely assumptive basis on which the
dogma of eternal torment is founded. God said this, but as men thought He meant that,
they found no difficulty in omitting the words He used, and employing instead such words
as they felt sure He meant to use! Alas for the day when Theology undertook to correct
Revelation!
It is now in order to mention some other assumptions which have given
to this dogma whatever consistency it possesses. Proving these assumptions false we
destroy its consistency; and, its consistency destroyed, further belief in it is an
affront to both revelation and reason.
The ideas of endless torment and the soul's inherent immortality are
closely related; endless pain being impossible apart from conscious endless existence. And
it is in keeping with this, that if men derived their doctrine of the ages from Aristotle,
they should derive their doctrine of immortality from Plato. They are therefore related in
their being so dependent on each other, as well as in having their sources amongst the
Gentiles, to whom without a doubt the Oracles of God were not entrusted.
The supposition that immortality is the birthright of the natural man,
without any reference to his moral fitness for such a priceless treasure, is one
absolutely foreign to Biblical revelation. So self-evident is this, many advocates of the
doctrine feel constrained to claim, "Immortality in Scripture, is nowhere revealed
but everywhere assumed." The point they would wish to make is that inherent
immortality was so obvious a truth it required no statement! Gladstone, in his "Studies
of Butler," remarks that the doctrine of immortality "crept into the church
by the back door" and his concluding remarks on the "History of Opinion"
are of value:
"Another consideration of the highest importance is that the
natural immortality of the soul is a doctrine wholly unknown to the Holy Scriptures, and
standing on no higher plane than that of an ingeniously sustained, but gravely and
formidably contested, philosophical opinion. And surely there is nothing, as to which we
ought to be more on our guard, than the entrance into the precincts of Christian doctrine,
enter without authority or by an abuse of authority, of philosophical speculations
disguised as truths of Divine revelation. They bring with them a grave restraint on mental
liberty; but what is worse is, that their basis is a pretension essentially false, and
productive of rational retribution of other falsehoods."
How true is his closing statement, "productive by rational
retribution of other falsehoods!" One error must be sustained by another error; one
assumption demands another in its support. "Taking for granted" something about
the Ages of Time, is quickly followed by "taking for granted" something about
the souls of men. And if the assumption concerning the ages produced evil fruit in its
effect on related subjects, so also did the acceptation of Philosophy's "grand
guess" in regard to the human soul weave a web of enchantment over every doctrine
affected by it.
The Scriptures defined the limits of the Ages, and clearly
distinguished them from the Eternity of which they formed a part: men, blinded by false
pre-conceptions, defined the Ages to be Eternity, and not merely a part of it.
The Scriptures emphasized man's mortality: men, under the glamour of Philosophy, wrote
poems about their immortality. The Scriptures spoke of the Creator as a God who suffered
from sin, who could love and hate with the intensity of an emotion unknown to man: men
taught that God was beyond being affected by men's misdeeds. We cannot illustrate such
methods of interpretation by the Philosopher's Stone, for whereas that mythical
wonder-worker turned all it touched into gold, this method transformed the gold of divine
truths into the dross of human deceits.
To examine in detail the other assumptions on which this doctrine is
founded is hardly necessary just now, it being desired to merely emphasize the fact that
these pre-conceived theories concerning the endlessness of the ages, the immortality of
the soul, and the impassivity of God--theories which have so largely molded current
theology--are but assumptions, and consequently are not to be regarded as clinching proofs
of such a tremendous doctrine as the one before us.
(2) TRANSLATION. The second great support of this dogma is to be found
in "versions" of the Bible, which we should ever bear in mind are not Scripture
but translations of it. When the Bible was written, in its various parts, it was not
written in English, French or German, but in Hebrew and in Greek; and, therefore, whenever
a question of doctrine arises, resort must be made to the very terms God used, in order to
obtain the very idea which God meant to convey. That the assumptions made by translators
influenced their translations of the Bible is an undeniable fact, patent to every student
who compares a literal translation with the ordinary version. For instance, where we read
in the authorized "everlasting" and "eternal," in Young's Literal
Translation, we find the term "age-during" --the latter leaving the question
open as to whether age-duration is eternal or not. The assumption that age-duration MUST
be eternal led the translators of most versions to use infinite terms to describe a
duration which the very Bible they were translating proved could not be endless.
False philosophy having produced this false translation, finds most of
its strength and proof, to the great mass of Bible readers, in its own production. If
Englishmen thought that the framers of the Magna Charta meant something other than just
what they said, and altered it accordingly, subsequently appealing to this altered
document as proof of their ideas, the situation would be analogous to the one before
us--theologians appealing to the translation of their own views in order to prove them.
(3) TRADITION. Next, we find the element of stability which tradition
yields. Tradition is the time-element in both truth and error; it does not make the truth
a whit more certain, nor does it in the least detract from the falsity of error. Buddhism
is older, but not truer, than Christianity. Sin itself is hoary-headed.
If we but grant the premises on which the dogma of endless torment is
based, we cannot deny the rationality of the doctrine itself. The doctrine, as developed,
may be manifestly inconsistent with the attributes of God, and still retain a logical
consistency with its own arguments. Viewed in relation to its premises it may have a
logical consistency: viewed in relation to the divine perfections it may manifest a moral
inconsistency. The mental conflict, which the doctrine has occasioned in the minds of men
whose orthodoxy cannot be questioned, cannot be attributed to any glaring, logical
absurdity in itself--if all its premises were correct, the absurdity would lie with those
who would contradict it. If sin be eternal, there is nothing illogical, and
certainly everything is moral in the conclusion that eternal suffering is eternal sin's
natural concomitant. We therefore find a logical consistency in the doctrine's agreement
with its premise, but a moral inconsistency in the relation of that rashly-conceived
premise with the known attributes, and revealed truths, of the God who made man for
Himself.
Assumption, Translation and Tradition are then the triple foundation on
which this mighty dogma rests. The assumptions may have been made by very wise men; the
translations made by men of vast literary skill, who had accepted these assumptions; and
the doctrines, thus supported, may have been accepted in unquestioning simplicity by very
good men--AND STILL BE WRONG! In order then to regain the Word of God, in all its purity,
we must pass by good men, learned men, and wise men, not because they have been wise,
good, or learned, but just because they were MEN, and get back to GOD. We must let God
speak for Himself, and instead of molding His words into conformity with our philosophies,
rather mould and fashion all our thinking into harmony with His truth; and instead of
vitiating His divine revelations with our human premises, find all our premises as well as
our conclusions in Himself alone, who is the Alpha and the Omega of Truth.
UNIVERSALISM AND ANNIHILATION
Having considered the soul-crushing dogma of endless torment, it
becomes us to make brief reference to its alternative doctrines. Before dismissing from
our minds, however, the Augustinian doctrine--as it is called--of endless woe, we must be
permitted to remark that if the assumptions on which that dogma is based are correct, and
harmonious with Scripture, no matter how strange it may appear to us, nor how foreign it
may seem to our conceptions of truth, we must, in the name of reason as well as faith, bow
unquestioningly before the utterance of the Omniscience to which alone the entire and
unbroken circle of truth can be familiar. The same reason that insists upon a thorough
criticism of every human interpretation demands, with equal insistence, an unquestioning
acceptance of every divine revelation. The mere whisper of God into the listening ear of
faith is more conclusively final than the loudest thunder of unaided reason. "Unaided
reason" we say, wishing to distinguish between that misnamed "reason" which
seeks to wrench the secrets of the Universe from God by sheer force of mental powers, and
the "reason" which most amply evidences its rationality in a recognition of its
own limitations. Nor should we forget that reason is as much of a necessity to faith, as
is faith to reason--to an idiot, bereft of reason, faith is impossible. Without faith
reason degenerates into agnosticism: without reason faith declines into superstition.
Faith, then, is not irrational; it may be opposed to sight, but should not be spoken of as
if it were in opposition to reason. If then faith exists not apart from reason, and if
reason be blind apart from faith, the question presents itself, will the truth as touching
human destiny produce such a mighty conflict between the two as history and personal
experience shows to exist in relation to the dominant doctrine? The consequence of such a
conflict has been that some have doubted that to be faith at all which could so disagree
with reason, and others have denied that to be reason which could be so out-of-joint with
faith.
True reason acknowledges that sin must be met with punishment, and
acquiesces in the thought that punishment must continue as long as sin endures. With such
a doctrine it is not reasonable to quibble. But the theory to which reason objects is that
of endless sin and endless punishment as necessary factors in a universe supposed to come
from the creative designs of a perfect Deity; and the picture of a universe eternally
midway between chaos and perfection--eternally half-damned--is one to which reason has
never been able to reconcile itself. It is obvious that such a conflict was bound to give
birth to doctrines which would bear evident marks of their distressful origin; some being
mere expressions of an intense desire to see reason bludgeoned by faith; others
manifesting a desire equally intense, to reciprocate such an attitude by dispensing
altogether with belief.
Universalism, however, is not the product of either faith or reason,
but the result of a sentimental shrinking from the facts of life, and the stern
necessities of moral government--in short, it is neither rational nor believing. It is the
extreme of two other extremes--the third point in a triangle of opposing theories;
Materialism deifying reason and excluding faith; Orthodoxy exalting faith to the denial of
reason; Universalism denying both by its misuse of sentiment. The Augustinian dogma failed
to preserve the equipoise of the divine attributes, and sustain the harmonious relation of
every divine perfection, but the Universalist did not right the wrong by merely shifting
the undue emphasis from one set of attributes to another. Nor does a system commend itself
to us which, in order to evade all thought of future punishment, found the fulfillment of
every prophecy of judgment in the fall and ruin of Jerusalem. We may, therefore, brush
Universalism aside without further comment and proceed to the less objectionable views of
Annihilation, or as its advocates prefer to call it, Conditional Immortality.
The doctrines of Endless Torment and Conditional Immortality have this
in common that both view the sinner's punishment as being eternal in its infliction--the
first consciously so, the second unconsciously. Further, both doctrines are based upon
assumption--the former assuming the endlessness of the ages, the latter assuming the
endlessness of death. The prematurely accepted theory of the infinity of the age-times
yielded strong support to the assumption concerning death's endlessness; for, the
punishment of sin being revealed in Scripture as age-lasting, and that punishment being
death, the supposed endlessness of the ages naturally attached itself to the wages of sin.
The advocates of Eternal Torment declare that, once sentence has been
passed upon the offender against law, that offender can never come from under the law's
decree. In this the exponents of Conditional Immortality agree. Both schools, therefore,
are united against any possible restoration of the lost; the Augustinian finding the
impossibility of such restoration in the fixed character of the punished; the
Annihilationist finding it in the nature of the punishment. The Augustinian reached his
dogma by a series of presumptions as to man's being: the Annihilationist reached his by
presuming that death in its final infliction is instantaneous instead of being a process
spread out over the periods of the Eons; or, of acknowledging its infliction to be
protracted, by concluding that the sinner's destruction is such as will preclude all hope
of his resurrection in a body minus that depravity of nature which so loudly demanded its
own eradication.
The problem which confronts the Annihilationist, of the dead being
raised to die again, those once punished being raised in order to suffer a repetition of
their punishment, is one of those jagged difficulties which no line of reasoning can ever
remove from the doctrine of Conditional Immortality as generally formulated. But the
suggestion that this resurrection of the wicked dead has reference to a fulfilling of
God's gracious purposes in them is one which the Annihilationist must reject in
consequence of his assumptions regarding death, even as the Augustinian must equally
reject it because of his assumptions regarding the eternity of eonian time.
The Universalist exaggerated the scriptural terms descriptive of
universal bliss--i.e., exaggerated them by ignoring, or minimizing, the import of those
scriptures describing God's punitive attitude towards sin. No attempt was made to explain,
or reconcile, the discord between these two classes of scripture, but one class was taken
and the other, by a process of gross misinterpretation, simply ignored or explained away.
The Annihilationist, on the other hand, lacking a full-orbed conception of the divine
wisdom, and failing to perceive how those threats of destruction could be reconciled with
the promises of salvation, by minimizing the extent of the promises, exaggerated the real
import of the threats. The problem as to how there can be a real and complete fulfillment
of the threats, and yet an equally real and complete fulfillment of the promises, is but
the old problem of how Law and Grace can both be fulfilled, without being fulfilled at the
expense of either. It is but the old problem re-stated in the future tense--the problem of
soteriology becomes eschatological. Nor is the problem made more difficult of solution
when considered in relation to all men than when considered in relation to but one . If
God's righteousness and mercy both are abundantly magnified and satisfied in the salvation
of one soul, it is ample intimation that the restoration of every soul, without
diminishing or dimming the glory of that righteousness, is not within the sphere of
improbability.
Augustinianism involves the idea that some grim necessity demands the
continuous maintenance of an eternal inferno within the bounds of the universe. Men have
tried to apologize for such conceptions, and have not hesitated to teach that the terror
of such a spectacle will effectually prevent a repetition of sin's entrance into the
heavenly realms. A universe dependent for its stability partly upon love, and partly upon
hideous terror—an apology as nauseating as is the concept for which the apology is
made.
Annihilation involves the view that whereas puny man possesses the
unlimited ability to resist the will of God indefinitely, God is limited in His power to
overcome that resistance, unable to influence the human heart so as to remove
all rebellious feelings, unable to control circumstances so that by
bitter experience itself man may learn the unprofitableness of sin, and turn from it to
find true life and liberty in obedience to the divine will. We must choose either horn of
the dilemma. Either God is limited by man, or else man is encompassed by divine
limitations, which, while they do not interfere with the freedom of the creature, still
prevents ultimate suicide on his part. On our doctrine of destiny will depend our belief
whether God, in creating man, created him so that he could never really get beyond the
reach of his Creator's love and enabling grace, or else made him as the pioneer engineers
constructed their experimental locomotives--without a safety-valve.
The three great theories of human destiny may consequently be described
as three great exaggerations. The Augustinian exaggerates the duration of punishment. The
Annihilationist exaggerates the nature of punishment. And the Universalist exaggerates
certain elements in the nature of God. Each and all of these views amply illustrate what
we referred to in the introduction as being "mistranslations of the divine
perfections in the terms of our doctrinal statements." The final truth we must look
for elsewhere, satisfied that when found it will combine the truth common to each, while
eliminating the error attached to all.
We may talk, and write, as we please concerning the Creator's right to
do as He pleases with those He creates; but we must not forget that the Will of God is not
something which can be understood apart from the Nature of God. "Show me Thy
glory," was Moses' plea, and God revealed it to him in the statements of His power
and freedom to confer forgiveness upon His erring creatures. God is not experimenting in
human life. He does not adventure at His creature's risk. He does not gamble on chance, or
trust to a lucky turn of the wheel of life to bring a possible handful of His creatures
back to Himself. In order to save one soul He is not compelled, by some hideous necessity,
to damn a hundred. When His purpose in human life is completed, no debris will remain to
mar the finished perfection of His work. The circle of human freedom is itself enclosed
within the larger circle of the divine decrees. "Known unto God are all His
works." Sin's entrance into the Universe was no accident, nor did it take the
Almighty by surprise. God knew what it would do when He allowed it to enter; and when sin
finally vacates the scene it will do so defeated in every particular, not even a partial
victor over any that God brought into existence for Himself. Sin will not remain in the
Universe, either as wielding the lash of endless torment, or holding the scepter of
endless death. Death itself shall die, and destruction be itself destroyed. That such a
glorious end is to be the grand climax of eonian time it is now our province to show from
the storehouse of God's revealed truth.
THE BIBLICAL DOCTRINE OF DESTINY
What men teach about destiny we have seen. It is our province now to
enquire what God has to say concerning it.
The reader will bear in mind that the words "eternal" and
"everlasting" are not a translation of Scripture but an interpretation
of it. Where man has "for ever" the original has "for the age," or
"for the ages;" indeed, whereas man always defines the duration of punishment in
terms of infinity, the Word always defines it in terms of age-duration. The original
words, therefore, would leave the question in a somewhat unfixed state, giving the terms
defining time, or duration, in such form as would leave them subject to that progress of
truth which has characterized God's revelation of His ways to man. The Holy Spirit, in
other words, left unsettled the question whether the ages were eternal in duration or not;
left untouched the matter of their being limited or unlimited, number or numberless; and,
in the Old Testament at least, preserved silence as to whether they were enclosed within
bounds or otherwise; in fact, we might say that God, in using these terms, and in using
them in such an undefined way, left the door of revelation "on the latch" for
such subsequent definition and enumeration as He would be pleased to give. But the door
that was thus divinely left ajar was rudely bolted and barred by the human attempt to
crystallize and petrify expressions which, when given, were given in a fluid state. So
well--or ill--did the attempt succeed that our expressions "eternal," etc., are
at best but stalactites representing, in their fixed form and rigidity of meaning, the
arrest with which Theology checked the progress of divine revelation.
The perversion of the idea contained in the Scriptural terms may be
seen in the fact that whereas the Hebrew and Greek words preserve and in fact emphasize
the age-broken, or periodic character of that portion of Eternity within the scope of
revelation, the English terms obliterate its age-divided peculiarity, and state
the idea of duration in the form of monotonous changelessness. As long as progress will be
possible change will be necessary, for where there is no change there can be no progress.
The Biblical term "ages" in itself, without any additional word, suggests this
idea of progressive change. When all possible perfection is attained, change (as
associated with progress) will become obsolete. Of such a state the terms
"eternal" and "everlasting," with their atmosphere of iron-bound
rigidity, might well be used, as they are ill-used when applied to the changing seasons of
imperfect though progressive age-time.
What God revealed (and man concealed) was that sin and its
punishment are age-during, and what He did not reveal was that age-duration is eternal.
But that which God was silent on—the extent or number of the ages--upon that man
became trumpet tongued. What God (in the Old Testament) had left undefined, that man
hastened to stereotype into an exact term. God's foolishness was in this, however, as in
everything else, wiser than man's wisdom, and God's silence more eloquent than human
speech; so much so indeed, that it is more necessary we should have a right understanding
of what God left out of the words He used in describing duration, than that we should have
clear ideas of what man brought into them. Such phrases as "the endless ages of
eternity," so remarkably present in religious literature of every description, are
just as remarkably absent from the inspired literature of the Bible. The phrase
"immortal soul" is a similar unscriptural expression.
The full doctrine of the eons and the final truth of destiny are to be
found in the Pauline epistles. The endeavor to find the doctrine of the ages in the Old
Testament, can only be likened to an attempt to read the detailed doctrine of Romans into
the prophecy of Isaiah. True, it may be granted that as we have germinal beginnings of the
apostle's masterpiece in Isaiah's "Old Testament Gospel," even so the
intimations of the Hebrew Scriptures involve the subsequent teaching of Paul concerning
the eons. Nevertheless, whatever may be said as to the involved truth of the Old
Testament, it is only in Paul's writings that we find the evolved and complete
doctrine of the ages. In Paul's epistles we therefore find the key to Old Testament
teachings on this subject, and the solution of the entire problem.
If the traditional theory that eternity and the ages are synonymous is
correct, then obviously the ages can never have had a commencement, and can never come to
a conclusion. If the age-times define the entire span of the divine existence (as we ar e
told they do), it must be patent that as God has never had a beginning, neither can the
ages have had one either; and, as God cannot die, neither can the ages cease. As to the
definition of the duration of Deity, supposedly found in the linking of the ages with the
name of God, we will remark in passing that age-terms so used do not define the duration
of the Self-Existent,* though they do define the
duration of certain manifestations of His character, manifestations or assumptions which
are not eternal but transient. In other words they denote, not the existence of God in
Himself, but of God in certain aspects of His Being, aspects necessitated be the very ages
which define their continuance. When faith learns the secret of the eons, it can rejoice
"with joy unspeakable" that these manifestations are but transient revelations
of the eternal God, and that even eonian life, blessed though it be, is also transient,
merging into a higher state of bliss and glory than is suggested in even that priceless
gift.
[*The name JEHOVAH--I AM reveals in itself, and
without any adjective being prefixed to it, the duration, or perhaps better the being
of the Creator, which is the ground of all duration in the Universe of Time and the
Universe of Things.]
To sustain the claim that eternity is a synonym for age-duration it
must be shown that what is said of one can, with equal propriety, be also said of the
other. Eternity, like space, is shoreless; passes comprehension; and defies measurement.
Not so with the ages. These, as spoken of in the Pauline epistles, are measured, or
numbered; unlike eternity they had a definite beginning; and, unlike eternity, will also
have a definite end. If this be provable from the Word of God, then "eternal"
and "eonian" are not equivalent terms, do not convey the same meaning, and are
entirely unsuited for interchangeable use. There is something imperious, it is true, in
the claim that the ages must be eternal, but the demand of faith for divine,
rather than merely human dicta, is more imperative still. The seeker after truth who has
paid attention to the characteristics of Biblical age-reference, and its marked silence as
to their supposed endlessness, will perceive that the matter before us is one that demands
investigation rather than declamation, and patient analysis in preference to obstinate
dogmatism.
In 2 Tim.1:9 Paul uses an expression which is absolutely opposed to the
theory that the eons and eternity are synonymous terms. The words used are "pro
chronon eonian," which we find in our English Version thus: "before the
world began." Now the word for "world" is not "eon" but
"cosmos," and as we do not find "cosmos" in the text, but
"eon," it is apparent at our very first glance that here was something in
Scripture which its translators did not understand and which their translation was certain
to keep anyone else from understanding either. Giving the word "eon" its
rightful meaning, we translate the phrase thus, "before the times of the ages."
(See also Titus 1:2 and 1 Cor.2:7). Eonian time is recognized, but so also is time not
eonian. Eternity cannot have had a beginning, but here we learn that the eons, or
"ages," did have one. They are therefore not synonymous terms. If it be
said that the term "everlasting" or "eonian God" makes the eternity of
God's Being dependent upon the eternity of the age-times, how can we square such an
assumption with such plain statements of the Word? If there was a past eternity in which
the ages had no existence, is it not patent that then, at least, God could not have been
spoken of as the "eonian God?" And, should it be still insisted upon that God's
existence is defined by terms descriptive of age-duration, shall we be logically
consistent: the ages had a beginning--did God have one? And if we acknowledge
that the Being of God overlaps the eons in past time, shall we not acknowledge the
possibility of its overlapping them in the future also? But many will acknowledge that the
ages were not eternal in the past, and yet insist that they must be eternal in
the future. We are obliged therefore, not to meet one opinion with another equally
groundless, nor to affirm in counter-dogmatism what we think they must be, but to inquire
humbly what God reveals they will be.
Our attention is first drawn to the fact that the ages are numbered.
It is unnecessary to point out that this ill consists with their supposed endlessness. In
Eph.1:10 Paul makes reference to the administration with which the eons conclude. He
speaks of it as being "the economy of the pleroma of the seasons." Pleroma
is not a term which can be consistently translated by a single English word. Its meaning
varies--though but slightly—with its context. When applied to the attributes of
Deity, it signifies that their totality dwells in the ascended Christ. When used
of a liquid, or that which can be measured, it signifies full measure. When
applied to that the quantity of which is determined by a weighing process, it means full
weight. When used of persons, or things, or years, or anything else which is
enumerated by units, it describes their full number. As we are dealing with ages,
or periods of time, which we compute by neither measure, nor weight, but by number, in
this case it denotes their totality, or full number. It may be objected
that the ages could thus be numbered and still be endless--by the last, or concluding age,
being an eternal one. To sustain such an objection it will have to be shown, in the first
place, where any age is spoken of in Scripture as being endless; and, secondly, it will
have to be remembered that what constituted the preceding portions of time,
"ages" was the fact of their being finite, and hence should the concluding
"portion" become infinite it would then cease to be an age.
But God does not "re-head" the universe in Christ merely
because the clock of the ages strikes the appointed hour. He does not thus consummate His
purposes merely because the right time has arrived, but because the right time is
according to the right condition. The husbandman gathers in the crop, not merely
because it is harvest time, but because the crop is ripe. This is beautifully shown in the
suggestive use of the word kairos seasons, instead of the customary chronos
times. It reveals that crowning economy as being not merely a period of numerical
completeness, but also one of moral ripeness for the Headship of God's Anointed One.
In connection with all this it is pertinent to draw the reader's
attention to such New Testament phrases as "the ages of the ages"--that is ages,
two or more, which are distinct from all preceding ages; and "the age of the
ages"--the crowning eon of all the eons, the grand goal of eonian time, in which will
be found that "economy" which marks the numerical completion and moral maturity
of the eons. The ages will cease when the universe is ripe for eternity.
The truth of the preceding becomes very plain, when viewed in
connection with what Paul further reveals concerning the eons. In Eph.3:11, RV, we read
"according to the purpose of the ages." It is here intimated that the eons
witness the working-out of a divine plan, and that they are necessary factors in this
plan. In this passage Paul looks to the commencement of the ages, when they came
into being; as in chapter 1:10, he views their consummation when they pass away.
The ages, therefore, are but the scaffolding which marks the building process of the
Temple; but, when the Temple is completed, each jewelled stone in its rightful place, with
God All in all, then is the scaffolding of the eons removed, their work being completed,
God's purpose in them being attained, the further continuance of such scaffolding but
marring the divine perfections of God's dwelling-place. Well may we speak of the eons as
being the workshop of God, beyond which lies the sabbath of His eternal rest.
Contrary then to the popular idea, the ages are not the treadmill of
time, on which Eternity steps in ceaseless motion, but at best, or most, a mere by-path, a
temporary digression from the broad and endless highway of Infinity, from which they take
their course, and to which they find an ultimate return.
THE BIBLICAL DOCTRINE OF DESTINY
DESTINY IN ROMANS
The doctrine of the eons is by no means an isolated one, but is
intimately associated with every other Biblical doctrine. Clarity in this doctrine is
essential to clearness in others, and error here will inevitably produce confusion
elsewhere. Proof of this is very evident in the epistle before us, the very lack of
anxiety, or carefulness, on the author's part to prevent the reader from accepting his
teaching in a full racial sense being only equalled by the corresponding anxiety on the
part of his interpreters lest his words should be construed to have that meaning. Why Paul
should have been so careless, and his modern expositors so careful, shows, if anything, a
difference in point of view between him and them. Should we accept the Biblical doctrine
of the eons, then Paul's choice of terms will be appreciated by us ; but, should we prefer
the Pagan notions concerning them, Paul's lack of restrictive language will become a
matter for wonder, if indeed it does not become a fit subject for our criticism.
The most casual reader of chapter five must recognize that the author
deals in universal terms. He does not balance a universal over against an elective
expression, but when writing of sin's ruin and redemption's scope employs the same
unrestricted word in both connections, without even a passing hint that we should
understand sin and salvation as being other than co-extensive. He does not contrast
"all" with "some", nor "many" with "few", his
parallels are consistently drawn, and show that his object is not to present a numerical
contrast but a moral one—the number involved remaining unaltered throughout his
argument, the same quantitative words being used, where different qualitative
terms are employed. The marked contrast between the qualitative words is no more evident
than is the lack of contrast between the quantitative expressions. Paul's object then is
not to show the difference between one part of the race and another, nor between a
majority in one condition and a minority in another, but to develop the difference between
the race as related to Adam in nature and the race as related to Christ in grace--a moral
and not a numerical contrast.
The mischievous assumptions concerning the ages effectually paralyze
every attempt to interpret this great chapter in a way that will allow such obvious facts
as these to have their proper force. The taking away of the limitations with which
Scripture has surrounded the eons compels the adding of limitations to the revealed extent
of reconciliation. Adding to Scripture in one respect necessitates taking from Scripture
in another. The introduction of the eternal element into the age-terms leads naturally to
the elimination of the universal element from the redemptive-terms. The commentaries of
Christendom are witnesses to the beggarly shrinking processes which men have resorted to
in order to make Romans five utter the shibboleths of the Augustinian dogma.
Crediting the average man with an intelligence sufficient to express
his thoughts in adequate language, it ill becomes us to question the ability of the divine
Author of Scripture to reveal His mind in terms remarkable for their delicate and
exquisite precision. When the Word declares "the many shall be constituted
righteous," why should we find it necessary to whittle down, or discount, such a
statement into meaning no more than that they shall have an opportunity to become
righteous presented to them? If what God meant was different to what God said, shall we
conclude from that that God was at a loss for the right word when Romans was indited?
Perish such thoughts! And yet the reader who would seek to learn the very thoughts of God
by closely scrutinizing His very words must recognize that his method must ultimately lead
to believing what God has taught concerning the finite eons, and enjoying what He has
revealed concerning His infinite grace. The belief that the words used by God in
revelation adequately and exactly reveal His thoughts will not so much enable us to
interpret the Scriptures as it will manifest how wonderfully the Scriptures interpret
themselves.
Without the doctrine of the eons Romans five becomes a labyrinth, or
maze, which the truth-seeker, bewildered by a thousand conflicting thoughts, and harassed
by a myriad theories, may well hesitate to tread. With the key-truth of God's eonian
purpose grasped, the passage loses its terror, and invites the simple to enjoy the rich
banquet it sets before them. It reveals the awful potency of a single sin to ruin the race
of man but shows on the other hand an act of righteousness no less potent in effecting its
redemption. In Romans Paul declares: "By one man--sin; by one
man--righteousness." In Corinthians he proceeds: "By one man--death; by one
man--resurrection." Throughout the entire Pauline literature, the Apostle exhausts
the possibilities of both logic and language in showing the super-ability of God in
dealing with His erring creatures. Romans five is especially remarkable for the manner in
which it combines an exposition of "the love that all will not be denied," with
an exaltation of the righteousness that will not be stained.
Human sin and divine righteousness--what are they but the antipodes of
the moral universe? How then can the righteousness be maintained, the sin condemned, and
yet the sinner saved? We are writing on destiny, shall we then bring in the cross? Nay!
rather, how shall we write of destiny and leave it out? It is the cross which has made
grace possible. It is the cross which has made grace righteous. The eons find their center
in it. Before they had being, it loomed--the altar of the sacrificial lamb--in all its
crimson majesty, full in the vision of Deity. And the eons face crossward, bearing onward
to its sacred base the humanity committed to the restoring discipline of Time. The cross
is the grand foundation on which grace alone can build, and the appointed ground for the
divine dispensation of life.
What would the reader have? Whittle off, and pare down the terms which
Paul employs in our chapter, contract the language of the Apostle, and the glories of that
cross must inevitably be dimmed. View it as the triumph of Infinite Wisdom over the finite
folly of the race, and we bow in worship before the One who planned it, and Him whose
blood has stained it red. Widen its sphere of triumph and we deepen our conceptions of it
as the instrument of Omnipotent Grace. The cross is adequate to the task of cleansing the
Adamic race from the moral pollution of sin. May our faith prove adequate to believing
that glorious truth!
Romans reveals to us the coming triumph of divine righteousness over
human sin: Corinthians discloses the ultimate victory of resurrection life over Adamic
death. The resurrection of all is involved in Romans five; the righteousness of all in 1
Corinthians fifteen. In both epistles national distinctions are not touched upon, but both
righteousness and resurrection are viewed in their racial issues.
In line with the method adopted in the previous articles, the writer is
more anxious to point out the erroneous assumptions which have molded current theology,
than to give a detailed exposition of each passage. When we succeed in reading out
of the Scriptures the many additional phrases which men have read into them, then
the way becomes clear to enjoy the truth as Paul wrote it, and as God inspired it.
Allowing the Bible to be its own interpreter; receiving its definitions as needing no
correction by us; paying strict attention to what it says, and how, in order to learn what
it was meant to reveal; and accepting its language as requiring neither contraction nor
expansion by us, has shown itself to be the only method of interpretation worthy of being
called exact. We mention this because the unhappy process, and habit, of "discounting
the grace of God," and the unfortunate position which compels those who occupy it to
be perpetually explaining how the terms descriptive of salvation's scope really mean much
less than they appear to convey on their surface, is as apparent in comments on 1
Corinthians fifteen, as it is in those on Romans five.
It is of course self-evident that if limitations be introduced into
Romans five similar limitations must be also introduced into 1 Corinthians fifteen.
The doctrine of Romans forbids our contracting the scope of
resurrection in 1 Corinthians fifteen--in fact the revelation here can only be limited by
ignoring the Scripture evidence concerning the eons, by changing or weakening some of the
words employed, and by interpolating others.
It is generally conceded that in verses 23 and 24, resurrection is
spoken of as taking place in three grand divisions, or companies. Now, the only method by
which allowance may be made for three resurrection groups, in order not to conflict with
the daring assumption of endless sin and torment, is to divide them as follows:
(1) The resurrection of Christ;--"Christ the
firstfruits."
(2) The resurrection of those in Christ;--"those that are Christ's at His
coming."
(3) The resurrection of those out of Christ;--"the end when Christ delivers
up the kingdom."
But it is evident that the Scripture under consideration challenges
such a classification, for while the above analysis makes the third and last rank, consist
of the unsaved dead—those out of Christ--the passage itself refers only to
the raising of those in Christ. To be "in Christ" means righteousnes
and life; "out of Christ" means condemnation and death. To read the resurrection
of Revelation twenty, with its dread uprising of sinful men to meet their doom, as if it
could thus be described as a resurrection "in Christ," is but to betray a
deplorable ignorance of the precious and fragrant truths which cluster around these
immortal words. But if Paul's language forbids our reading the rising of the lost into
these three orders, or ranks, what shall we do with the third resurrection group spoken of
here, which consummates the ranks, and which the context shows synchronizes with death's
destruction?
How impossible it is to read Revelation 20 into 1 Corinthians 15 may
also be seen from what both passages have to say about death. In the Apocalypse we learn
that, at the close of one thousand years of the reign of Christ, death is limited to the
lake of fire. Nothing is said about death's destruction, nothing about its cessation, but
on the contrary its continuance for "the ages of the ages" is revealed. In
Corinthians we read not of its limitation, but of its destruction. To interpret its
destruction as being fulfilled in its localization is not to distinguish between things
that differ, and in short, is but to quarrel with God's choice of terms, and question His
mastery of man's vocabulary.
The attempt has been repeatedly made to identify the reign spoken of
here (v.24) as being Messiah's reign as Son of David, an attempt which may only succeed
when the testimony of the context is either explained away or placidly ignored. It is
evidently as the divine Son that He finally subordinates Himself, and as Father that God
takes over the kingdom rule from Him. As the reign of the Son is not located in the
"impending eon," but in the "eon of the eon" (Heb.1:8), it becomes
evident that the "end" or "consummation" spoken of here, has nothing
whatever to do with the events connected with the transition from the thousand years to
the new creation. The truth is the event of Revelation 20 is not so much as touched on, or
referred to in our chapter, the order of resurrection being:
(1) The outrising of Messiah from the dead:
(2) The out-resurrection of those who are Christ's at His
presence; and,
(3) The resurrection of all who become Christ's in the "age
of the ages."
The final rank rises in the last eon, that age which witnesses the
termination of the eonian reign, the triumph of eonian love, and the full and final
extermination of death--God's last enemy.
The design and purpose of all creation is that it might be the temple
of its Creator, God. Before ever a creative fiat went forth, the purpose that He should be
"all in all" was formed—not All in some, not Much in All,
but ALL in ALL. But, if death be eternal, God must necessarily be excluded from being all
in some. Should eternal death be spiritual, then God must be excluded from the most kingly
part of many of His creatures; should it be physical, His design of being All in all is
just as impossible of attainment. But the destruction of death, connected as it is here
with resurrection, shows that He will be All in all physical beings;
while their being raised "in Christ" shows that He will be All in all spiritual
beings. It is in reference to this purpose of the Eternal that death is reckoned as an
enemy. Spiritual death can never be other than an enemy of God. Physical death may be used
by Him in carrying out His pre-eonian plan. But when spiritual death--the fallen
creature's antagonism and enmity--is finally overcome in the crowning triumph of
reconciliation, physical death is then denuded of its spoils and abolished, having no
further function to perform in the perfected Universe of God.
That the ultimate subjection of the Universe to God will be internal
and spiritual, rather than merely external, may be gathered from verse 28. In the matter
of the "Orders" of resurrection, as detailed in verse 22, we drew attention to
the way in which all those ranks were grouped together under the common designation
"in Christ." Here we notice that the subjection, to be shared in by all
creation, is one which knows no difference in its intensity or reality, is no more perfect
in some than in others, but equally perfect in all, and indeed, linked as it is with the
subjection of the Son, intimates that their subjection is not different in kind from His,
nor His from theirs. It is true of course that the acts of Christ in both resurrection and
subjection are unique, for He is the First in resurrection, and the Last
in subjection--the Alpha of the one, as He will be the Omega of the other; but, as His
resurrection is the ideal norm, or type, of all subsequent resurrections, so will His
subjection be the glorious crown and consummation of all preceding subordinations. The
exponents of endless torment must be sadly conscious of the infinite difference between
that merely, external subjection which they consider possible in the outer darkness of the
damned, and that true and spiritual submission which will characterize the attitude of the
redeemed, and the filial subjection which the divine Son will render to His Father--God.
Recognizing such distinctions, let such find them, if they can, in the language before us.
Here let us direct our attention to the result of God's eonian
dealings. God is ALL in ALL. The kingship has been delivered up to God, even the
Father--as if to suggest that the family, rather than the kingdom, characterizes the
ultimate state. The Adamic dead have all been raised in Christ; and now,
perfected in His perfections, God Himself becomes ALL in them. Humanity in the
Son, and God in humanity--do we wonder if the eyes of faith at times have blinked when
called to gaze upon that wondrous goal? And God will have it ALL; He has written it ALL;
and He meant to write ALL, and not a weaker word. Nor is it over all, as He could
only be, in part at least, were millions damned in endless antagonism to His will. Nay!
nay! Faith, too, will have it "God all in all."
In our remarks on the teachings of Paul's earlier epistles, we noted
that the burden of their message concerned the "things on the earth"--in other
words, the Adamic race. In them we found no definite allusion to the future destiny of
fallen angels, except so far as it was involved in, or affected by, that of humanity. But,
if explicit mention of the "things of heaven" is absent from Paul's earliest
writings that certainly cannot be charged to his later epistles, Ephesians, Philippians,
and Colossians. These, forming perhaps the smallest group of the New Testament writings,
have the largest scope of any of the groups. They contain a digest of universal history, a
compendium, we might say, of "the ways of God with men," and angels, too, the
moral glories of which are sufficient to their own justification. The group is a complete
Bible in itself, though compressed within the narrow confines of a trinity of sacred
writings. These epistles especially (and not the writings of Plato, nor the philosophic
guesses of any other heathen writer) contain the solution of the problem of universal
destiny, as Paul's earlier writings solve the question of human destiny.
Pharisaism is of many kinds. There is, for instance, the individual
Pharisee, who, priding himself upon his fancied attainments, duplicates in every age him
who, "speaking within himself," said "God, I thank thee." Again, we
have the national Pharisaism so sadly prominent in Israel's history, which looks
upon special national place and privilege as being the result of, instead of an incentive
to, a greater holiness than that manifested by those nations who were not so favored as
they. And we also have a racial Pharisaism which speaks, and reasons, as if the
children of Adam had a peculiar right to divine grace, a title to mercy, and a claim on
God, not shared by any other race or rank of beings, in all the vast spaces of the
universe. It is but the "I more" spirit of Saul the Pharisee drawn to the scale
and magnitude of the human race. The publican (whether an individual, a nation, or a
race), who draws nigh on the ground of sprinkled blood alone, is surely not the one who
should dictate to God as to who shall, and who shall not, be partakers of the bounteous
largess of grace divine.
In Ephesians, where the vision of faith is directed onward to the
"economy of the full number of the seasons," the all things, heavenly and
earthly, angelic and human, are seen as re-headed up, consummated and completed, in God's
Anointed One. There is not the slightest indication, in the language used, of a special
class who are excluded from the universal Headship of Christ. It is apparently a
"heading-up" of the universe which knows nothing of an exclusion from, nor a
distinction within, its sphere.
In Colossians, where the same words ("the all things") are
used in different connections, first as created products and then as the subjects of
reconciliation, we are reminded of Romans five, where, throughout the argument, the
quantitative terms remained rigid and unchanged, and entirely unaffected by the constant
flux in the qualitive expressions.
Philippians will be found to combine in one the teachings of both
Ephesians and Colossians. In Ephesians we have Messiah's future Lordship, or Headship,
over the "all things." In Colossians we find Him reconciling these "all
things" unto Himself--for He must first cleanse in blood, before He may crown with
glory, the sin-stained creation which He by grace has made His own, though it were already
His by virtue of creative power. Philippians, without drawing distinctions of extent or
degree, brings the entirety of universal being within the sphere of Jehovah-Jesus' name.
"In the name of Jesus," or Saviour,--not "at the
name," which could imply a merely external, or formal acknowledgment--"every
knee shall bow." Here we have the Colossian grace, as we are now to view the Ephesian
glory. "And every tongue confess Jesus Christ as Lord"--the Headship of
Ephesians, and the perfect submission of Corinthians, in one precious verse. As we
remarked the absence of distinction between different kinds, or degrees of submission, in
the Corinthian epistle, so must we likewise notice how distinguishing expressions are
similarly absent from the passage before us. The acknowledgment of Jesus as Lord is not to
be the product of the lash in some, and in others the luscious fruitage of redeeming love.
The bended knee of all creation will be the uniform token of a universe whose heart is
bowed in loving worship before the divine Joshua of God.
In Colossians we had a passing glimpse of the cosmos as it came fresh
from the hands of the Creator. "In Him were the all things created, in heaven and on
earth." Then ensued creation's swift descent into chaos, moral and physical. But
Philippians discloses One "mighty to save" standing by, who looked not unmoved
upon the sin-wrecked scene. The glory of the "form of God" is laid aside, and He
who bore it begins to empty Himself, in order that He might fill creation's uttermost
expanse. From depth to lower depth He goes, unfaltering in His love, and visits every
plane of universal life which sin had marred by its defiling touch. If ruin had entered by
means of hateful pride, redemption comes by way of Him who "humbled Himself." If
vain pride expressed its nature in acts of disobedience, He (whose glories were past the
telling) "made Himself of no reputation" and "became
obedient." The cross itself could not deter Him who already had sacrificed so much,
from becoming Himself the crowning sacrifice of God upon the accursed tree. Sin had
emptied heaven and earth of God; He takes upon Himself the emptying of earth and heaven of
sin. To this end does He bear sin to the tree, there to judge and condemn it in the full
righteous blaze of an ever-holy God. And the result? Who can find words which will bear
the burden of glory the answer holds? He who lay a lifeless form within the tomb, breaks
forever the iron rule of death, and claims the captive underworld for His own. He died,
but not for Himself. He lives, and it is still for others. Heaven, earth, and the
underworld, which each and all had witnessed the grace of His downward stoop, now shares
without restriction in the glories of His upward rise. And if redemption had its genesis
in the abdication of His rights on the part of the Lord of All, it finds its apocalypse in
the abdication of all rebellious self-will, and insubordination, on the part of those who,
in every sphere, have questioned and denied the authority of God. Beginning with the
laying aside of glory, Phil.2:6-11 ends with the ingathering of all the glory gladly
rendered by a redeemed universe. Nevertheless, He who "thought equality with Go not a
thing to be grasped," receives not the glory to Himself alone. The Self subordinating
One of 1 Cor.15 is the Self-emptying One of Phil.2, who lays the glories of a restored
creation, in all its parts, at the feet of "God the Father."
We have but barely suggested the Biblical doctrine of destiny. An
exhaustive exposition would require many volumes. Nor have we more than outlined the false
methods, and the baneful results, of traditional interpretation. The "exegesis"
which would seek to crush the idea of eternity into the time of the eons, which would
inject a supposed numerical contrast into the moral contrasts of Romans five, which would
insist that the raising of those "out of Christ" at the end of the impending eon
is identical with the final rank of those raised "in Christ" at the end of the
eon of the eon, as revealed in 1 Corinthians 15, and which would make the limitation
of death to the lake of fire the fulfillment of its destruction, bears its own
refutation in the confusion which its methods create. It is not to be wondered at if such
modes of interpretation necessitate the continual introduction into Scripture of countless
interpolations and distinctions, the inspired omission of which can be appreciated by us
when we start our inquiries with an acceptance of the Biblical doctrine of the ages, but
which becomes a baffling mystery when we seek to open the locks of Scripture with a key
forged on the anvil of Pagan philosophy.
If the Cross was not Empty,
WHAT?
Why a cross in world as beautiful as this?
Why a cross, has something gone amiss?
An enemy has set to work to thwart God's plan,
Spoil His fair creation, ruin man. |
Who occupied that cross, and why?
Who was it, gave Himself thereon to die?
It was the blessed Son of God,
None other could, none other would. |
What has been accomplished since He died?
Sin has been put away, God has been glorified;
In proof of this, the One who died
Is now exalted, at His Father's side. |
It is the message of the empty cross I bear;
'Tis mine, to give that message everywhere;
To testify to men by sin undone,
The only question is about the Son. |
And what about the Son must I declare?
That He is risen, is no longer there;
He entered and passed through death's gloom,
And now an empty cross and empty tomb. |
If the cross was occupied,
'Twould matter not, e'en though He died;
'Twould be a vanquished God we'd see,
And all things left in hands of enemy. |
But in the empty cross there comes to me,
The fact, and glorious certainty
That all my sins were covered o'er,
In Jesus' grave for evermore. |
Now as I gaze upon the throne,
I see Him there, but not alone;
But in the One who lives for me,
I see myself for ever free. |
I take the empty cross, and hold it up.
I cry to sinful man, there's hope;
For He who once was crucified
Is seated at His Father's side. |
'Tis here the guiltiest may find hope,
But nowhere else but here;
An empty cross, an empty tomb,
Both sin and man have met their doom. |
Suppose the cross still occupied,
God's plan could ne'er completed be;
'Tis empty, this the guarantee,
The travail of His soul He yet shall see. |
An empty cross and empty tomb
Takes away from earth its gloom.
A throne now occupied in heaven
Eternal life to man is given. |
| W. H. W.
©Concordant Publishing
Concern
|
