CHAPTER IV.
Why I became a Unitarian.—My own Reading and Study of the Bible.—The Missionaries’ Doctrines.
Before I begin to give my reasons in regard to my taking the Unitarian name, I should say that these reasons are my own. They are the fruits of a mind uninfluenced by Unitarian, or Trinitarian theology. Beside the New Testament, and the Author who studied his theology “in the bosom of the Father,” I had no missionary to influence me at first. So that what I say I utter from my own heart, and on my own responsibility. Let not the Trinitarian condemn, nor the Unitarian triumph on account of my views and interpretations of some of the leading dogmas, which have split the Church of God into fragments. But let them both charitably hear my free thoughts and testimony. I do not attack nor flatter any particular dogmas, through force of sectarian feeling.
My object is to seek truth with an unprejudiced mind, and to speak it faithfully when found. I would observe perfect frankness in my statements; and if I use any word, or expression, that sounds irreverent to the reader, I would beg him to regard it as unintentional, for I mean nothing irreverent, nothing hostile to true piety. Moreover, I should say that I did not resort to Neander, Clarke, Livermore, or other writers and commentators for help, not because I should not value them, but because they are almost strangers to me. I did not know that they were to be had, and so could not goto any such commentary on the Life of Christ. I believe that the best and most infallible commentary a man can write, is to explain Christ, by his life, by his actions; thereby exhibiting him in vivid, living illustrations. The blessed Teacher did not come to puzzle us with intricate enigmas, nor to bind us under the heavy burden of mystery. Nor did he come with imperfect knowledge of things, to favor us with half of the necessary information, and leave us to guess out the other half. Whatever he deemed necessary to the life, comfort, and salvation of man, he taught distinctly, intelligibly, though often in parables. He did not even resort, like the modern preachers, to those truths in nature which lie beyond the conception of the masses; such as the solar system, or the attraction of gravitation. But, that we all might understand, and be profited by him, he alluded to the fowls in the air, the lilies of the field, the fall of the sparrow, and the hair of our heads. He prayed, and thanked his Father that through him He had revealed truth unto babes, or simple-hearted men.
But I do not undervalue the earnest labors of those good Christian men, who have written and who will write, commentaries upon the Gospels. I honor every honest effort to edify man. But, as I said before, I put more stress upon, and can understand more distinctly and profitably, the commentaries written in actions, than those drawn out by pen and ink.
The following are the points which I did not dream of, while studying the New Testament,—which, when stated to me, I could not look at without surprise, and could not believe. They are the doctrines of the Trinity,—the total depravity of the human race, or human nature,—and endless punishment in hell. Now as I hear of these, and their kindred doctrines, I do not believe them, nor thinkthey have anything to do with true religion, because they seem to me irrational and unscriptural.
The Trinity.—In giving my reasons for not believing this doctrine of the church, I shall be as brief as possible. It is a self-contradictory, and unintelligible riddle—a production of the fancy wrapped up with a sense of piety. They say the Trinity is a sublime union of the Three in One,—the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Common sense teaches us that one is always one, and three are always three. We distinguish persons by their respective individualities. So the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, must each have a distinct individuality, otherwise they could not be persons; and if so, then they have their wills and affections separate from each other. Under such circumstances, it is as absurd to receive the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost as one, as it is to say, James, Mary, and Ellen are one.
The religion of my country has a Trinity which I find far more rational, more logically and philosophically consistent than the Christian Trinity. And I do not think it a prudent choice to reject the former, and accept the latter. Here is the Hindoo trinity, and the relation—the equality between its three persons. “In the beginning, there was Shuck-tie, or Power.” It is somewhat parallel with St. John’s “In the beginning was the Word.” This “Power” was like the “Word” of the Evangelist, a term of broadest import, including power in all its elements, creative, sustaining, redeeming, sanctifying, destroying,—in short denoting the whole substance of God, or itwasGod.
Power manifested itself in three leading ways,—creative, sustaining, and destroying. First of all, we need creation; so that power of God (Bromho) which creates, becomes the first. Then, when something has been created, we need support. The power or providence of God, that supportsthe creation becomes the second. Finally, the economy of nature requires destruction, so the power that destroys is the third. These three are called a Triad. But it is obvious, that far from their being the trinity of persons, they are the trinity of the attributes of the same, one, great Being. These have been personified, and are worshipped by the philosophical Hindoos, as the three deities.
One remarkable fact worth noticing is, the perfect equality between the persons of the Hindoo Trinity.
We read in our sacred books, of Bromho (first) offering prayer to Bishto (second); Bishto paying homage to Shiba (third). Sometimes Bromho and Shiba worship Bishto, etc.
Compare the Christian Trinity with the Hindoo, with an unprejudiced mind, and you will recognize a great difference between them. The former would show its unsoundness when placed in contrast with the latter. The Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. The first two are Beings, and the third, which is essentially God himself, is not a Being, for the spirit of a being cannot be a separate individual. In Oriental countries, we address one man in various ways; taking one of his peculiarities, and personifying it in rich allegories. The three persons of the Godhead must be equal in power, glory, and substance. There is no equality between the three in the Christian Trinity; at least, this does not appear satisfactory to one who is unacquainted with the system. There are numerous indisputable places in the New Testament, where the subordination of the Son, is set forth in a clear manner.
The very passages, which are produced to prove the equality of the Son with the Father, speak in connection of his subordination unto Him. “All power is given unto me in heaven and earth,” is a passage put forth, by intelligent men and women, to show that Christ is God. They put muchstress on “all power,” while a simple, uninfluenced mind would put it upon “is given;” for whatever is given unto us does not make us equal to the giver.
The more we receive from him, the more subordinate are we, and the more thankful ought we to be unto him. The world might call us great, and be dazzled with our splendor, which is given to us; still the sense of obligation demands our respect, our thanks, our worship for the Giver. But Christ did acknowledge his Father as the giver of his wisdom, power, and honor, and never said that these belonged to himself. Before or after performing some miracles, when the weak-minded spectators were liable to have taken him for God, he was particularly careful to destroy that impression about himself; saying, that he himself could do nothing; and thanked God for the power which enabled him to perform wonderful things. He would offer prayer to his Father, soliciting his smile upon his works. Thus, standing by the grave of Lazarus, he lifted up his eyes to heaven, and said, “Father, I thank Thee that thou hast heard me. And I knew that Thou hearest me always: but because of the people which stand by I said it, that they may believe that Thou hast sent me.”
Frequently, in view of his mightiest works, he tells us that his Father is greater than himself. Now, he, who is greater than another, cannot be equal to him, at the same time. Two and two are always greater than one and one. With us it might be possible to compete with, and surpass one who was greater than ourselves, in wealth, learning, and popularity; but God’s glory is unchangeable. If the Father, who is distinct from Christ,—being one of the three persons who form the Trinity,—be greater than Christ, he is forever so. I know there are some passages, in which Christ identifies himself with God; such as “I and myFather are one.” “He who hath seen me hath seen the Father.” Let me give my experience as these passages fixed my attention. It is an undeniable fact that both the Old and New Testament were written in Oriental languages, which abound in allegorical idioms.
My own thoughts very readily suggested to me the meaning of such passages. When a plenipotentiary goes out to a foreign people, to adjust or secure political or mercantile interests for the people or king who sends him, he might very properly say that he and his king or people are one. For he speaks and acts agreeably to the instructions given him by the king or people he represents, and whatever he says and does has been put into his power.
So Christ says he and his Father who sent him are one. He never did or said anything against his Father’s will, and so he convinced the world that he was the Sent—the especial viceroy of “the King eternal, immortal, and only wise,” on the earth.
It is affirmed by Unitarian divines that, in order that the disciples might not misunderstand Christ, when he said he and his Father are one, he explained to them the nature of that oneness or union, by saying, that the very disciples about him were one with him and with God. “That they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us.” Still it seems to me that the disciples did not have any difficulty in understanding what he meant by, “I and my Father are one;” for this is a common expression—a prevailing phrase—of Oriental lands, and they were familiar with it. When two or more persons are said to be one, it is obviously meant that they are of the same spirit, profession, culture, or will. We see in the New Testament, that simple, unadorned words ofChrist puzzled the Jews more than his figures and allegories. For instance, when Christ told the sick man, “Son, be of good cheer; thy sins be forgiven thee,” behold, certain of the scribes said within themselves, “This man blasphemeth.”
The expression, “I and my Father are one,” does not strike an Oriental as having some unfathomable, mystic meaning; nor does it convince him of Christ’s being equal to his Father in glory, essence, and existence. “He who hath seen me, hath seen the Father.” These words, I am told, are regarded as the strongest support of Trinitarian doctrine; “Christ in them declaring most distinctly his identity with God, in every respect.”
But this is a simple thing again. Ask a Hindoo child of seven or eight years old, to show you his father’s house. He will direct you to go straight ahead a few rods till you come to a store, and leaving the store on your right, to go a little way and you will presently see a palm-tree; and if you see the palm-tree you see his father’s house. Does this imply that the palm-tree is his father’s house? No. So the passage, “He who hath seen me hath seen the Father,” does not convey, to any one accustomed to the Eastern mode of expressing thoughts, the idea that Christ is God. The palm-tree of the Hindoo child is sonearto his father’s house that if you see the one you cannot help seeing the other. Our dear Master exhibited such divine graces in his life, that it is not blasphemous for him to say, “If ye have seen me ye have seen the Father.”
I did not dream of a triune God as I studied the New Testament, and when it was presented to me in the creeds I found no support for that dogma in the Scriptures. It seems to me that the doctrine of a triune God, is not able to give “life, comfort, and salvation to the world.” It is neitheressential to, nor a part of, the religion of Christ. It is the production of Oriental philosophers. In the course of time, it migrated from the East to the West. As it passed from hand to hand, and country to country, it lost much of its peculiar beauty. In conclusion, I should say that an intelligent Oriental finds nothing rational in the doctrine of the Trinity as it exists among Christians, because he has seen a better one in his own country. Indeed, to receive this doctrine, so absurd, so unintelligible, would be as ridiculous for him, as for a Bostonian to sail to Calcutta for a piece of ice.
The Total Depravity of Human Nature.—As my time would not permit me to consider this subject in a way I would like, and thereby show my reasons for not believing it, I would simply resort to common sense and the Scriptures to expose the awkwardness of this doctrine. I fully believe that such enormous doctrine as that of calling a child of the Most High a totally depraved creature—having nothing good in him,isnot, and ought not to be a part of any man’s creed.
It discourages man. It puts a mountain in his way. It weakens his faith in a loving Father, when he is told that impartial justice will hold him responsible for all the iniquities which he was created to commit. I am aware that believers in this doctrine would say that the atonement, made by Christ for our sins, has satisfied eternal justice,—that “the blood of the Lamb has washed our sins.”
“Bad leads to worse, and better tends to best.”
“Bad leads to worse, and better tends to best.”
“Bad leads to worse, and better tends to best.”
“Bad leads to worse, and better tends to best.”
Admit one absurd theory, and it will bring others of the same nature to its support.
The doctrine of the vicarious atonement is the centre of gravity which supports the theory that man is a totally depraved creature. Without the former, the latter will falldown on the ground, and break to pieces, and no one would dare regard himself a wholly depraved being. If I hear that a certain man in my city is an infallible physician to cure consumption, I would not feel afraid to call my slight cough by that fatal name—consumption. It troubles me to know what became of the millions of souls born totally sinners, and who died before the blood of the Lamb had been shed. Is it possible that our good Father filled hell with human creatures, who bloomed in their infancy in the garden of creation,—those simple, pure-minded ones, whom “no murder clothed and no murder fed,”—who spent their lives in doing good?
Perhaps some will tell me that Christ died for all; both those who lived before his appearance on earth, and those who lived after. Here is some trouble again.
If I understand rightly, it is said that the mere fact of Christ’s offering himself, would not wash away our sins. We must believe in him in order to receive the benefit of his dying. If so, then, even to-day, there are millions who have no opportunity to hear of Christ; consequently they cannot believe in him and his gracious atonement. St. Paul writes, “How then shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? and how shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard?”
The idea of one man’s suffering, or making atonement for the guilt of others, is a strange one. In the world we do not see examples of it. The man who is guilty before the court suffers. His weeping wife, loving children, and kind parents are not called upon to take his punishment, much as they might wish to do it. I am reminded of a poem in the Ramayona. When the god Rama was coming home, the sea stood before his car, in a human form and thus addressed him:“The ten-headed,—Rabona, the great tyrant King of Sunka, or Ceylon, stole away thy wife, and thou didst erect a bridge over, and chain the sea, to reach his kingdom. O Son of Rhaga, nowhere do I hear of such a strange decision,—that one commits a crime, and another suffers for it.”
The total depravity of man’s nature is a doctrine that is not recognized by Scripture. Of course, there are many places in the Bible where the sins of man have been set forth in dark colors; but that does not imply that he is wholly a sinful creature,—born to be so. There are instances too numerous to mention, both in the Bible and in the annals of the world’s history, of men and women living a life of purity and love.
Let us see what the Scripture says,—that God created man in his own image, is an undeniable fact. “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.” In what sense is man the image of God? Is he the image of God’s person? No, it cannot be so. If we say that, we become pagans, and give a physical form to God. Now, the safest and most rational way to answer is, to say that he is the image of God’s nature, spirit, and love; because we recognize glimpses of these Godly graces in man, more or less. Here comes a proposition that the image of anything must contain the peculiarity, or some likeness of the original, otherwise it would not be an image. If I wish to draw a picture or make an image of the sun, I cannot make it an oblong, triangular, or square figure, I must make it a circular one; otherwise, people would call me a poor artist, and the image a wretched one,—the image of some fanciful object, but not the Sun. God is infinitely pure, holy, perfect in his nature. How, then, could his image be totally depraved?Again, if man be truly a depraved creature in his very nature, our Master, then, must have uttered some sentimental words when he said,“Be ye perfect even as your Father in heaven is perfect.”
It is hard for us to understand that the image of unbounded Holiness is totally depraved, and that totally depraved creatures should become perfect as their “Father in heaven.” Let theologians call man a born sinner, yet he is not so. The Great Theologian, who knew human nature well, its capacity, its excellence, bade it “come up higher,” and “be perfect.”
The Doctrine of an Everlasting Hell.—I cannot conceive of anything as everlasting but God. Everything has its end at some time, or in some way; but God is without end. All but God is subject to change. He, our good Father, is unchangeable and everlasting. The Great King is the Sovereign over all,—heaven, and earth, and all the hosts thereof. If there is a place called hell, it must be before His omnipresence; for there is nothing that is not known, and seen, and made by God. He could not create an everlasting hell to torture his weak, frail children. Whatever He has created is for their good.
Heaven and earth, with all their wonders, unite to contribute to the welfare of God’s creatures.
Everything that lies within, without, around, or above us, speaks of God’s unfailing love towards his children. He has placed us under his moral government, the violation of whose laws brings suffering. The same is true also in our relation to the laws of Nature. When we break them we suffer for it; and the suffering is conditional.
I put my hand into a blazing fire, and immediately I feel the effect of my imprudence. I then take my hand back from the fire, and resolve not to put it there again. If I try the experiment again, the same suffering is inevitable.
The All-wise Father has so ordered, that the violation of his laws, physical or moral, will bring suffering;—suffering produces repentance;—repentance will beget reformation; and reformation will meet the approbation and smile of God. Such are his laws, and they must do their mission. He punishes to cure, and not to kill. “He wounds for his mercy’s sake,—He wounds to heal.”
“The parable of the Prodigal Son,” verifies this truth. When the son wanted to have his portion given to him, the good father knew well what would be his lot, by and by. Yet he did not interfere with his wish, for he had made him a free moral agent. The child leaves his paternal abode, and spends his portion, his energies, in riotous living. He becomes poor, has nothing to eat, and takes care of swine;—theverymenial business in Oriental countries. His sufferings create repentance in his bosom, and he starts for his father’s home. What did the father do? Did he say, “Go from me forever, and live in everlasting misery?” No. He is too good, too loving to say that. He comes out of the house, welcomes the wanderer back, clothes him with the best robe, and makes a feast. In the Bible there is mention of everlasting fire; but the words are not in meaning according to what they sound. If they were literally true, they would falsify Christ’s “parable of the prodigal son.” It is a common Oriental way of describing the state of unhappiness. When a boy I read these things in Hindoo books. “It is said, Jom, or Death, has his angels, who dip sinners in boiling oil. They fix large hooks in their throats and drag them on some high places. They cause them to embrace pillars of fire, and finally thrust them in ‘Nonuck Coondoo,’ or pit of dirt, in which ‘kit’ (a worm) dieth not.”
I am told that, taking the words of the Bible in a literal sense, the Christian people believe in many absurd things,and teach them. For instance, in a Sunday-school book, there is a question like the following: “Where do the wicked go?” “To hell,” is the answer. All right. “What kind of a place is hell?” “It is dark, and there the worm dieth not, and there is fire unquenchable.” Now our common sense springs up to protest against this unfortunate statement; declaring that where there is fire unquenchable there cannot be dark at all. Such a fire would light hell so splendidly as to enable its inmates to pick up the very sand off its floor,—of course, if there be any.
Heaven and hell are within our own breasts. We experience the joys of one and the pangs of the other. When we perform our duties faithfully, and “love our neighbor as ourselves,” we then commune with God and his angels; and that is what constitutes the joy of heaven. On the other hand, when we neglect our duty,—seek after carnal lust,—defy God and man by our thoughts and actions, and thereby bring sorrows, the hatred of the world, and remorse of conscience—we make hell within us. A pure and contrite heart is heaven, and a heart that loves self exclusively, is hell.
Thus I have, very poorly but sincerely, attempted to give my reasons for not believing in the Trinity,—the total depravity of human nature, and everlasting torture in hell. To me they are unscriptural and absurd doctrines. I do not trouble myself with mysteries, but receive the simple words of Christ as my all-sufficient law, of which, “love to God, and love to man,” is the essential part.
My Christianity begins where Christ opens his life, and ends where he closes it. In his words I find my duty towards, and my relation to, God, clearly defined. In Christ, I find a perfect humanity, and a safe Guide to liberty, holiness, and love. Skilful orthodox ministers, who are used toteaching those who are willing to hold their doctrines, may pick apart these simple things which I have said. It will give them no pleasure that I, a young man, have come out of the dark ways of my people, and have found what rejoices my heart in Christ and in his God, because I do not and cannot take with my blessed Christian faith the opinions of the orthodox. I know what those opinions are; I knew them before I gave up Hindooism, and they prevented me for some time from finding light and joy in the Gospel. I know, too, what many of my own countrymen, who have the best minds and who have outgrown Hindooism, think of the views offered them by orthodox missionaries. Intelligent Hindoos think that what these missionaries wish them to believe, as a part of the doctrine of Jesus Christ, is very like some of the worst things in their own religion, which made them doubt it and throw it off. I know my countrymen will never be converted to these orthodox views, though some of the missionaries are good men and work hard. Their doctrines, which we do not find when we read the Bible ourselves, stand badly in the way of their success. Intelligent Hindoos who throw off their religion, generally become what are called here, “Infidels,” or “Deists.” When a Hindoo gives up the superstitious practices of my country, all the religion which he keeps is by clinging to, and loving and trying to obey, some beautiful lessons of piety and morality scattered over his sacred books, which are just like the best things in the Old Testament. The orthodox missionary tells these Hindoos that their sacred books are all “humbug.” The missionary is ignorant what is in those books. At the same time he tells my countrymen that all the Old Testament was written by God. My countrymen will never change their religion for “orthodoxy.”