It seems to me a wonderful thing that these glorious truths were in obscurity so long. I suppose it must be due to the fact that the idea of a limited Atonement came to be really believed. There was evidently a limited salvation; must there not then be a limited Atonement? So that doctrine became a necessary part of a certain system of theology; and men clung to it—honestly no doubt—thinking that if that doctrine would go, their whole system of truth would have to go along with it. All credit is thus due to the men who were so tenacious of what they believed to be the truth.
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But we get larger conceptions as time goes on; and it seems a marvel that we had not such conceptions sooner. Take for instance the word "many" as it occurs twice in the one sentence that we have quoted. Has it not the same meaning in both cases? Both good language and good sense—apart from all preconceived opinion—would say that it has. But in the one case "many were made sinners." There is no doubt about the meaning of the word there. Certainly the whole race was made sinners. There is no room for controversy on that ground. But then, in the same sentence it is declared that "many shall be made righteous." If the word "many" in the first instance, means the whole race, has it not the same significance in the second instance? Surely words could not be plainer, or more emphatic.
To be sure, we may not see how such a promise is going to be fullfilled. In earlier times it seemed impossible; nay, a contradiction of what was passing before men's eyes every day. Many that were made sinners were certainly not made righteous. But men saw only the first part of God's administration. They had no idea that another part had to come, in which the promise would be fulfilled. So the promise was minimized, and shorn of its glorious meaning. Surely, the promise will be fulfilled. God is not restricted to this short epoch of time.
Then in regard to the quality or value of the Atonement, we have a wonderful testimony in these words: "Where sin abounded, grace did much more abound." That is, grace was much more than sufficient to put away the sin, universal as it was. So I reverently think the Atonement could be applied effectually to other worlds, if they need it. But passing by that point, for it is a mystery, I would emphasize the fact that the Atonement was greater than the sin. And think you, will it fail of its effect?
I wish that thoughtful theologians in the Methodist Church would duly consider this. Their theory is, that the Atonement is universal; but they deny universal salvation. Is not that the same as to say that in the case of some, Christ died in vain? But is that possible? If God really desires the salvation of all men, as we know He does; and if He has made provision for the salvation of all men, as He certainly has; will He not somehow and somewhere accomplish His desire? As to the doctrine of falling finally from grace, which Arminians believe, and Calvinists deny, on this basis both are right. Suppose that there is a final falling away in this life, and Restoration in the next, is there not harmony in the highest sense? O yes; in this larger view, there is both falling from grace, and final perseverance.
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In fact there is nothing that would unite the Evangelical Churches so effectually as a consensus of belief in universal salvation. This may seem a startling proposition to those who have not given the subject much attention; but after all, it is but an expansion of the idea that God's "counsel will stand, and He will do all His pleasure."
We are not surprised, therefore, that we have in Scripture such explicit statements as to the universality of the Atonement. I was brought up in that church which is identified with the theory of a limited Atonement. At an early age, however, I took the larger view of the Atonement, and I hold that view with increasing conviction now. In fact I do not see how the idea of a limited Atonement ever came to command the assent of intelligent men, except that it was found to be necessary as a part of a preconceived system of theology.
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Surely it was a great pity that men thought it necessary in bygone years to make their systems of theology so complete. Of course they are complete in the divine mind. But they cannot be so in ours. We see but a short way into the whole scheme of things. And when men thought that God's plan of grace is restricted to the present life, it is not so surprising that they favored the idea of a limited Atonement. They believed that air of God's purposes of salvation are realized in this life. But when we realize that God's saving plans extend into the next life, it is not hard to believe in the Atonement being universal. Thus we can take the plain statements of Scripture in their obvious sense, without twisting them into unison with some preconceived theory.
In my view we ought to accept the plain statements of the Word of God.If they seem to involve impossibilities, let us wait for further light.To me it seems that universal Atonement involves universal Restoration:and that idea solves the whole difficulty.
A noted Professor of Theology once sought to entrap me on that very point. I took a firm stand on the universal theory of the Atonement, He wanted to know what that would lead to; evidently hoping to commit me to Universalism. I said that if it was revealed we ought to accept it, no matter what it led to. At that time I had not accepted the idea of Restoration, but I strongly believed in the universality of the Atonement. Now the idea of Restoration rounds out and completes that view.
I fully believe that in this matter I do not stand alone. I believe that this same liberal view of the Atonement is held, consciously or unconsciously, by the great majority of our ministers and members. If a spontaneous answer were asked as to whether Christ died for the whole of mankind or a part only, I feel sure that the general response would be that he died for all. And I appeal to you, if that is not your most inner and sacred conviction? In your best moods, when all theological subtleties are put aside, can you endure the idea of a limited Atonement? I appeal to all men of a candid, progressive mind, if we are not really at one here? Then be faithful to that inner light. It is the light of God.
This doctrine of universal Atonement was endorsed lately by the American Presbyterian Church. In Article VIII of the "Brief Statement" adopted by that Church, these words occur: "For us He fulfilled all righteousness, and satisfied eternal justice, offering Himself a perfect sacrifice upon the cross to take away the sin of the world." Thus the American Church has moved unto the broader basis of universal Atonement.
And not only has that Church formally taken that position, but the spirit of the larger doctrine has so prevailed in the Church for some years past, that individual congregations could take the broader basis without having their soundness in the faith called in question. In a manual published by the Third Presbyterian Church of Chicago, for instance, the "Articles of Faith" of that Congregation are set forth under seven heads. Article III reads thus:—"We believe that Jesus Christ our Mediator is truly God and truly man, and that by His sufferings and death on the cross He made Atonement for the sins of the world; so that the offers of salvation are sincerely made to all men, and all who repent and believe in Him will be justified and saved." That exposition of the doctrine entirely accords with my view. It was by mere accident I saw this manual; it may be presumed that many other congregations have taken similar ground without challenge.
Not only so, but we have the doctrine of a universal Atonement accepted and clearly expressed in the statement of doctrine proposed as a basis of union between the Presbyterian, the Methodist and the Congregational Churches in Canada, so the orthodox people have cut themselves quite loose from their ancient moorings. Here is a marvel indeed. Wedded to the Confession of Faith as the Presbyterian Church has been, at least in theory, that Confession is now ignored. Surely the truth is advancing.
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I am glad to see such an explicit statement of this great doctrine. I can only imagine that the compilers of the Canadian Hymn Book forgot for the time their technical theology, and adopted the expression of their hearts. For, despite all theology, universal Atonement is the faith of the people. Yes, and it is the faith of the preacher. Since I was a child I never heard a limited Atonement preached; but I have heard a universal Atonement preached hundreds of times; and no one raises a cry at want of orthodoxy.
I am glad, especially, that we have been delivered from the hardening effects of the narrower view. In earlier times there were theologians who almost gloated over the damnation of millions of our race. And they were damned—so these theologians thought—simply because they were not elected and Christ had not died for them. With the utmost equanimity orthodox divines contemplated their eternal torment. To such hardness can men be brought by a false view, and in the name of religion. So the position of Queen Mary was logical enough from that point of view. When she was asked if she thought it right to burn heretics, she said: "How can it be wrong for me to burn them for a few minutes, when God Almighty is going to burn them for ever?"
Speaking of the hardening influence of such views, it is a great joy to think that we shall not always be so callous as we are now. Deep down in our souls there is a susceptibility to tenderness that we do not generally suspect. Sometimes, from no cause that we can see, there breaks on our hearts a ripple of peace like a breath of perfume from some far off land of flowers, or a snatch of melody from some distant land of song.
I have the idea that one of the functions of sleep is to arouse this latent tenderness. At all events, we have sometimes a strange tenderness in sleep, of which we hardly seem capable in our waking hours. I remember one very vivid occasion of this kind. A man whom I had seen but twice—a very common man, with no special attraction—I dreamed of, and in my dream I loved him with the utmost intensity. When I suddenly awoke, and when I realized that in this life I should likely never see him again, it was almost agony. Many a time I have had such experiences in sleep; and I doubt not that so have others. Such experiences do seem to be forecasts of the tenderness that we shall yet have for every brother of the human race, when we come to our best. With such feelings, how could we bear the thought that any so dear to us are in everlasting torment?
It may be well to quote here a few passages of Scripture in which the doctrine of universal Atonement is stated with all clearness. It is stated again and again without any ambiguity that Christ died for all. It is said that "He is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world." It is said that "He gave Himself a ransom for all," It is said that He "tasted death for every man." We read that "the Lord laid on Him the iniquity of us all."
These are but a few of many passages in which the great idea is set forth. Language could not be plainer. Jesus died for the sins of the whole race.
Now the question arises: Will He not find some way of redeeming every soul for which He died? Would He die for the world, and then permit any of the world to perish? Let us remember that He has ways and means of overcoming opposition without doing any violence to human freedom. We instanced the conversion of Saul of Tarsus to prove that point. What He did in that case He can do in others.
Let us remember that He knew well the magnitude of the task He had undertaken. Let us remember that He does nothing in vain. Let us remember that His love, and power, and purpose have undergone no change. And let us remember that this little span of time is but a passing epoch in His administration. He can complete in a future age what He commenced in this age. Nay, not commenced; for His purpose dates back from the eternal past. He is "the Lamb slain before the foundation of the world."
When we take this larger view, it is not difficult to believe literally that "His mercy endureth forever," and that it will find scope for its operation so long as one soul remains in alienation from Him. If you have been brought up to the narrower view, and if you have held that view for long years, it may be enlarged in a moment. One flash of divine illumination can reveal wonders of redeeming love.
We might go on at a great length in citing Scripture statements that have really no meaning apart from God's gracious design to men in a future age. Certainly Scripture is the paramount authority, and some will take it as superior to all reason on a question like this. But there are those who do not accord to Scripture the supreme authority; they rely more on reason and common sense; and I am hopeful they will read these remarks. For their sake I will submit some considerations from reason that may come closer home.
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One consideration is, that God made a sacrifice of unfathomable depth in giving His Son for the redemption of the race. No one will ever know what it cost the Father to make that sacrifice. Some theologians believe that God cannot suffer. I wonder where they got that idea. I would ask you: If you are a father and have an only son who has never given you offense In thought, word, or deed, but has lived in the most cordial and intimate terms with you for many years—could you give that son up to untold agony and death without making a sacrifice?
Now this is what the Father did when He gave up the Son to suffering and death; only the cordial feeling between the Father and the Son was far more intimate than in our case, and had lasted through a past eternity, whereas ours has endured but a few years.
As to the capacity of suffering in such a case on the part of God, we can judge of that faintly by our own case. We were made in the divine image, and suffer in a human degree as He suffers in a divine degree. Conceive, then, if you can, the untold suffering of the Father in making that sacrifice. The suffering which the Father endured I believe will never be measured.
The matter is presented in that way when it is said that God so loved the world that He gave His Son. The wordsoin that connection would have no meaning if it did not mean sacrifice. I believe it means a depth of suffering which no man nor angel has sounded.
Now can it be thought that the Father would make such a sacrifice for less than the whole race? If the Atonement was suitable for every one of the race was it not intended for every one? And cannot God make it effective for every one? Evidently it is not so now. But all eternity is at God's disposal. Can it be imagined that having made a suitable provision for all, He will be content with saving only some?
In fact I have the idea that God suffered by sympathy with the Son as much as the Son suffered actually. We can never know in this life if that was really so; but I have the idea that there was such divine sympathy between the Father and the Son that they suffered equally. This is holy ground; we shall trespass on it no further.
But do you think the Father will ever be satisfied until every soul for whom Christ died will be saved? He saw the end from the beginning. He is not taken by surprise that so few are saved. Now all eternity is at His disposal. Who can say that in the infinite sweep of His administration, which relates to other worlds as well as ours, there may not be good reasons for saving some of our race in the next life? At all events, His counsel will stand. He will do all His pleasure. The day will come when every prodigal will come home. Then Hallelujah! "The Lord God omnipotent reigneth!"
And so with Christ as well. His sacrifice is the expression of His love, and the only adequate expression of it. He loved us, and gave Himself for us. Paul says, "He loved me, and gave Himself for me." So every believing sinner may say. And in securing the effects of that sacrifice He is not limited to the short era of time. If He had chosen He might have secured the effects of His sacrifice in this age. But for some good reason unknown to us, His redeeming activity is exercised in a future age. We are not surprised. His administration is from everlasting to everlasting.
Such a consideration does not mitigate, in my view, the Father's solicitude for the salvation of His children now. We almost hear His sigh as He says, "How can I give thee up?" And again he says, "O that Israel had hearkened to my commandments!" And this divine solicitude was expressed in human tears when the Son sobbed over the apostate city: "O, if thou hadst only known in this thy day the things that belong to thy peace!"
I will refer here to one practical difficulty, which is solved by the theory of Restoration. We all know Christian men of whose real goodness we have no doubt whatever. But such a man has often great imperfections. There can be no doubt that he is destined for a better world; but in the meantime he is not fit for it. Such a man, we will say, meets with an accident that cuts him off in a moment. The question is, Where does he go? On the old theory he must go either to heaven or to hell. But he is really fit for neither. The work of grace is far from being completed in him, and therefore he is not prepared for the better world. But he has the germ of grace in him, and it is partly developed; therefore he would be out of place in the better world. Then where does he go? The difficulty is settled at once if we suppose that there is a preparatory stage of preparation for eternal joy. He will arrive at the goal in due time; but meantime he must have his faults and imperfections pruned off. Death will certainly not effect the necessary improvement. All are agreed that the fact of dying makes no change in a man's character. Nor is there any change usually effected just before death. In many cases there is no opportunity. "The souls of believers are at their death made perfect in holiness." So says the Catechism. But there is no evidence of it in the case of one who is stricken down suddenly. But suppose there is a preparatory stage beyond; then all difficulty disappears.
Nor would it be in harmony with divine operations, so far as we know them, to thrust a frail, human, imperfect spirit into eternal joys so suddenly. He is not prepared for them. He requires a preliminary stage of preparation. It is only in harmony with what we know of God's methods to believe that such is provided. When a child is born into this world, it is not thrust into new conditions suddenly. For a time it is not even aware that it has entered on new conditions; but it adapts itself naturally and easily to its new surroundings. So it is not easy to believe that a soul accustomed to the darkness of earth is thrust at once into the blinding glory of heaven. A preliminary stage of preparation seems to be necessary; and if it is necessary, it is provided.
I raised this difficulty once to an aged minister. At that time I saw no solution of it, and I simply wanted information. He studied a moment and then said, "When the flesh is put off, I think many of our sins and imperfections will go along with it." That was a wise answer, and there is a great deal of comfort in it. But it does not fully meet the case. The flesh is a lodging place for many of our sins, and it is a happy thing to think that we shall drop these sins when we drop the flesh. But there are sins of the mind too; and these we shall not drop with the flesh. They will go with us into the next life. The question is. How shall we get rid of them? The idea of Restoration solves all difficulty.
Besides, we believe that nothing that is really good will ever perish from the universe. In the case we have supposed, the man possessed real goodness; but it was largely goodness in the germ; it needed to be developed. It is only congenial with what we know of divine operations to believe that what is good will be developed, rather than that it will decay into nothingness. From that point of view a preliminary stage of progress seems to be necessary.
I have just met with a lecture by Sir Oliver Lodge, in which he espouses the same idea in a scientific relation. He quotes from Professor Hoffding, who agrees with Browning and other poets, that no real value or good is ever lost. Sir Oliver Lodge says that "the law of evolution is that good should on the whole increase in the universe, with the process of the suns." He says again, "Nothing really perishes in the universe that is worth keeping."
And in this matter he does not confine himself to material things. The same law applies, as he says, to "personality, beauty, artistic achievement, knowledge, unselfish affection" and so on. So he really rises into the domain of the moral and spiritual. Regarded in this light, no incipient goodness acquired in this life will ever die. It will be developed, and in order to its development, there must be some means of development beyond the bourne of time.
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We might suppose another case that will bring this principle clearly into view. A house has taken fire. The fire has made great headway, and the house is likely to be destroyed. The whole town has gathered around—some out of curiosity, others from sympathy. The inmates are supposed to be all rescued. But at length a child appears at one of the upper windows. A cry of consternation and of sympathy goes up from the whole throng. How can the child be delivered? The room is lighted by the flames. Clearly the time for action is short. The longest available ladder is placed against the house, but it is a little too short. The whole crowd is in dismay. Must the child perish in the flames? Above the crackling of the fire is heard its piteous cries. Will no one make the attempt to save it? The multitude is painfully irresolute; the case seems hopeless.
At length a man starts from the middle of the crowd. He is a common, ill-clad, laboring man. The grime of his day's work is upon him. Resolutely he goes forward, pushing the bystanders to the right and left. With firm and quick tread he ascends the ladder. At the top he stands for a moment irresolute. Is it possible to reach the window? It seems impossible. But he makes a spring for it, and by an almost superhuman effort he gains it. He rescues the child.; with great risk he regains the ladder, and begins the descent. He is nerved by the cheers of the crowd; but when about half way down his strength gives way, and he falls. The child escapes all danger, but the rescuer has received fatal injuries; his neck is broken.
Now the question is, where does he go? He was not a Christian. The old theology would say that therefore he goes to hell. We cannot believe it. We have enough of the divine image in us yet to revolt at such a thought. Then let us beware of extinguishing that divine light in our souls. As Carlyle says, "Come out of it, all honest men!"
We have seen that it is a divine law that what is good will survive. Then will the noble qualities in this moral hero have no chance of survival and development? It is true that he is not a Christian. No; but he is a far better man than many Christians. We would expect therefore that he will be subjected to some process of education by which he will rise to the place where he really belongs.
If Dr. Adam Clarke had only been imbued with such an idea, he would not have required to labor so hard as he has done in trying to make out a hopeful prospect for Judas. With a truly charitable intent he summons every possible argument in support of the idea that Judas was truly penitent, and that he was saved in his last hour. He may have been; I do not say. But the idea of Restoration opens a far wider door of hope. In that case, there is no need for far-fetched argument. He will be restored, as the worst criminal of mankind will be. The theory of Restoration settles all difficulty.
Closely allied with this case of Judas is the case of all suicides. If we were now holding an inquest on Judas, I suppose our verdict would be that he committed suicide in a fit of temporary insanity. And perhaps he did. At all events it is the most charitable verdict at which we can arrive. Many suicides in all fairness deserve this mantle of charity. And there is more than charity in reserve for all such. We believe there is an opportunity of development which many of them could not have in this life.
And so we may well believe it will be with lunatics. The reasonable view is, that they will begin just where they left off. As they are, they are not fit for the better world; and it would be unjust to send them to a world of woe. Some were idiots from their birth, and so have acquired no evil propensities of which to be divested. In other cases the idiocy was simply due to a clot on the brain. They have left their bodies behind them now, and the clot too. They simply begin at the point where their reason deserted them; and it will come back in due time.
It is a very nice point to determine where insanity begins. I was discussing this question lately with the Superintendent of a large lunatic asylum. We agreed that, while putting no premium on crime, we have to recognize that in many cases there is no real responsibility where in general it would be expected. The whole study of lunacy strongly indicates that there is a necessity for a process of elimination and development under more favorable conditions than the present life ordinarily supplies. And we may be sure that if there is such a necessity, it is provided.
In this connection I think of Blind Tom. He was a very prodigy in music. But apart from that he was a complete idiot, and had been so from his birth. After his death a gentleman who knew him well wrote a sketch of his life. In the noble, concluding words of that article I think we would all heartily join, be our creed what it may. The writer says of Tom: "Blind, deformed, and black, as black as Erebus—idiocy, the idiocy of a mysterious, perpetual frenzy, the sole companion of his waking visions and his dreams—whence came he, and was he, and wherefore? That there was a soul there, be sure, imprisoned, chained, in that little black bosom, released at last; gone to the angels, not to imitate the seraph-songs of heaven, but to join the Choir Invisible for ever and for ever."
Surely this abnormal gift of the poor idiot is a strong suggestion of his immortality. We refuse to think of that divine spark being quenched in everlasting night. And it is almost more impossible to imagine a wholly irresponsible being like him, yet endowed with such a divine gift, being consigned to endless torment. What remains, then, for him but a part in the better world? Yet he was by no means fit for that better world. Is there not then almost forced upon us the idea of a preliminary stage of education? And if that is so in his case, is it not more or less required in the case of every one of us? Think the matter over seriously, and see where it will land you.
The Creed of Eternal Torment—Do Ministers Really Believe It—If TheyDo, Why Not Say So?—No Decisive Note of Warning—Definite MissionaryIncentive Is Wanting—The Phrase "Eternal Death" often Used—Does ItMean Eternal Annihilation, or Eternal Torment, or What?—VagueReference as to Punishment Fosters Unbelief—An Age of Compromise—Professor Faulkner's Testimony—The Idea of Restoration Would WhollyMeet the Difficulty—Honesty and Candor—Carlyle's Scathing Warning—Ultimate Fulfillment of Prophecy—Eternal Songs.
If the doctrine of everlasting punishment is true, there has been of late years a singular reserve on the part of preachers in proclaiming it. Why? Surely "all doctrine is profitable." This doctrine would seem to me to be specially so, if it is true. It is contained in the creed of both the Methodist and Presbyterian Churches. But do the ministers believe it? If they do, would they not preach it; yes, preach it morning, noon, and night? But as a matter of fact they do not preach it. I never heard a sermon on it, or any attempt to prove it, since I was a child. A short time ago in a large congregation the minister asked for a show of hands on the part of any who had heard a sermon on hell during the last ten years. Two hands were held up.
Some time ago a noted Methodist minister told me that the Methodist ministers of Canada do not believe in Everlasting Punishment. A prominent official of that church told me lately that he does not believe it, but that if it were known he would lose his position.
The Presbyterian ministers seem largely to hold the same view. Is the subject mooted at all in any Presbyterian Church? I know that ministers profess to believe it; but they seem as apathetic about multitudes dropping continually into eternal fire as if they did not believe it. Privately, I have spoken on this subject with many ministers; and not one of them professed to believe it.
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Now, my plea is for honesty and candor. Let us be assured that Truth will not suffer by being avowed and defended. The matter is of the greatest importance just now. It has a most vital relation to Missions. I rejoice in the Laymen's Missionary Movement; but I fear it will wane if this most important question is not approached, and if possible rightly settled. For we want to know what the heathen are to be saved from, if there is going to be an adequate and sustained incentive to liberality and enterprise.
In all the reports of the meetings of the Laymen's Missionary Movement, I have seen no hint of the alternative before the heathen if they are not evangelised. I heard a minister lately speaking of them as 'miserable failures going out into the darkness.' What did he mean? It seemed to me an unworthy evasion of the question.
And now it is proposed to put in the creed of the proposed union of the churches that the doom of the finally impenitent will be 'eternal death,' What does that mean? It may mean either External Extinction or Eternal Torment. Is the union to be built on such ambiguity? Would not such ambiguity pave the way for future dissension? Herein we see the folly of putting too much in a creed, forgetting that 'more light is yet to break out of God's holy Word,' and that any human creed may yet have to be revised. And we are slow to make revisions, for revisions seem to reflect on views that we may have strenuously defended.
Julia Ward Howe, the gifted authoress of the "Battle Hymn of the Republic," had recently a "vision" of a regenerated world. She exulted in the prospect of a day of grace. But not once does she seem to cast a backward glance on the myriads of our race who are supposed to be in endless torment. Surely, that would have dimmed the glorious forecast. It may be that she does not believe in torment, or that she believes in final Restoration. In either case she would be consistent, and nothing would seriously mar the joy of her anticipation.
But such a mantle of charity is not available for certain orthodox ministers. They, too, forecast a final day of grace, and paint it in the most glorious colors. There appears to be nothing to mitigate their joy. But all the while they profess to believe in eternal torment. Their creed says that uncounted myriads of our fellow creatures are writhing in eternal fire, and that their torment will go on forever and ever, without any hope of mitigation. Surely, the very thought of such suffering would cast a pall of unspeakable gloom over the most glorious anticipation? No, not at all. Not for a moment does the black shadow intervene. How are we to account for that? I can think of only two ways; either that there is no imagination to realize the horror, or else that it is not really believed.
This painting of a roseate future, conjoined with a professed belief in endless torment, savors to me somewhat of unreality. The two things do not hang together. Surely, if such torment is but realized, it would cast a pall of gloom even over heaven's joy. But let such torment be abolished in fact and in conception, and the last vestige of gloom goes along with it.
And what necessity is there for retaining the idea? Is there any barrier in eternal justice? Surely, there cannot be, since Christ has paid a penalty of infinite value for every soul of man. And is there any limit to divine love? That love is infinite, and embraces the very worst of our race. But perhaps there is no method by which eternal love can take due effect? Will not infinite wisdom find a way? If there is any difficulty left, calling for the exercise of infinite power, surely, it is not beyond Him whose goings forth have been of old, from everlasting? Is it not thus reasonable to believe that all possible difficulties will yet be solved? The infinite One who rules all worlds is from everlasting to everlasting. His government may require time to evolve His gracious designs; but He will do all His pleasure. Therefore, we believe the day will come when sin and suffering shall be entirely done away. This is the
"Far off divine eventTo which the whole creation moves."
It will be remembered that I cited the case of the conversion of Saul as an instance of divine power subduing in a moment the most extreme and violent wickedness. The chief of sinners became the chief of saints. Yes; but the man never lost his freedom. In recounting that experience he could say, "I was not disobedient to the heavenly vision." This union of divine constraint and human freedom is an everlasting mystery; but not the less is it a glorious fact.
Now, why should not the same principles hold in the next life? The wickedness of a sinner may possibly be even more intense then than now; but the overcoming love, and power, and wisdom will be infinite. What, then, should hinder their ultimate triumph? Certainly, not the most terrible wickedness of puny man. It is but finite at the worst, and is no match for the infinite love and power of God. And then consider that the redeeming blood of Christ will be of infinite value then as now, and so will be available for the worst. What a prospect of universal Restoration is opened up here to our faith!
But there may still lurk in some minds the idea that divine love is limited to this life, and that justice alone will rule in the next. They have an idea of different dispensations; they say that this is the dispensation of probation; that the next life is the dispensation of rewards and punishments; and so on. Well, there may be a truth in that, and a wholesome truth, too. But let it ever be remembered that the character of God is unchangeable. What we call dispensations are but epochs in the divine government. But the qualities of God's character will never change. His love is from everlasting to everlasting; so is His power; so is His wisdom. Will these qualities of His character be inoperative in a future life, when there will be such sin and suffering to appeal to them? However great the sin may be, surely divine love, wisdom, and power will be infinitely greater.
And I cannot forbear adding this consideration: What would Christ think of the atoning sacrifice that He made for the sin of the whole race, if the whole race is not ultimately redeemed But it was said of Him, "He shall be satisfied." Yes; He shall be satisfied. Divine Love will win.
Lately, a little book was published on the subject of missions. The author is earnest, even to intensity. He says the Church is "sleeping." He deplores its "deadly apathy," He says that "a thousand millions" have not heard of the Saviour. He says that "a Christless multitude" dies at the rate of thirty millions a year. He says that "many millions have gone to Christless graves." He says that for these uncounted millions "death and the future are the very blackness of despair." He says that for twenty centuries these millions have been "perishing." Phrases such as these are multiplied to a vast extent, to awaken our horror of the situation.
But singular to say, the author does not seem to have any definite, positive ideas as to the actual doom of these uncounted millions; or, if he has any definite convictions, he does not definitely express them. Is it eternal extinction or everlasting torment? From the phrases he uses I cannot gather what he actually means. He speaks of a "Christless multitude" and "Christless graves," and "going into darkness," and the "blackness of despair." It may be that he deems it wise not to compromise himself by speaking out his definite conviction, if he has any. But in my view, he will not produce much of a worthy effect if he does not say definitely what he means. Or it may be that he has no definite idea. In that case, would it not be manly and candid to say that he does not know?
I believe that is the position of very many. They are hovering between the idea of extinction and that of torment. They try to believe in torment; they have been inoculated with that idea; they think, or are afraid, that it is Scriptural; but they recoil from any hearty reception of it. They have not got the length as yet of the idea of final salvation. But some day that truth may flash upon their souls like a gleam of heaven's own sunlight.
To come back to our author. He tries to give us a due incentive to awake from our apathy, and enter on a Missionary Crusade with a spirit of self-denial and zeal never yet known. He quotes two passages, which he presents as a very strong incentive. But neither of these passages has any force, on the theory either of extinction or of torment. Otherwise, they are pregnant with eternal hope. Listen: "He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied." Again: "He, after He had offered one sacrifice for sins for ever, sat down on the right hand of God; from henceforth expecting till his enemies be made his footstool." Neither of those passages can come true on the basis either of extinction or of endless torment. But they will come gloriously true on the basis of final salvation.
So the "millions" and "billions" that our author says have been "going out into the darkness," and into the "blackness of despair," are redeemed as well as we. The author himself says: "Jesus wants every one of these poor creatures told at once of Him and His love." Now, if that is His wish, is He going to be thwarted by any coldness or indifference of ours? We may fail in our duty; but is He going to fail? A thousand times, No! He has all power and all love, as well as all eternity, in which to work out His glorious designs. We cannot conceive of Him as being "satisfied" with either extinction or endless torment. No; the day of grace for the millions and billions will come. "He will be satisfied." His "expecting" will be realized. What wonders of redeeming love eternity will reveal!
In the meantime, our author furnishes no effective incentive to missionary effort.
When the idea of final salvation is generally accepted, I believe there will be awakened an enthusiasm for missions such as the world has never seen.
Since writing the above, I have unexpectedly been in a large missionary meeting where two noted men of the Methodist Church were the chief speakers. Both addresses were most fervid and eloquent. But I noticed that neither of the speakers had any note of definiteness in regard to the fate of the heathen after death. It did seem to me that one of them came once very near to the idea of eternal extinction, but did not candidly commit himself to it. The other seemed to approach the theory of torment, but drew back. The whole performance, eloquent though it was, seemed to me largely shorn of its effectiveness of appeal, because of its indefiniteness. Surely, we want to know what doom the heathen are to be saved from, if we are to be moved to any adequate enterprise or liberality. The few small coins on the collection plates on the occasion referred to, bore unmistakable testimony to the fact that the fervid appeals had produced a very meagre result.
If men really believe in everlasting torment, why do they not plainly say so? If it is true, surely it is the strongest motive that could be urged on behalf of missions. Perhaps ministers think that the time is not yet come for an avowal of the larger view, and that in the meantime it is wise not to commit themselves. But is not that very much the same as to say that they are waiting for the current of popular favor before they dare to be faithful? And does it not argue a want of faith in the truth as a sanctifying and saving power? And is further truth likely to be revealed to us if we deliberately shut our minds to such light as is offered? I say, let the truth prevail, though the heavens should fall.
By the way, one of the gentlemen referred to uses the phrase "eternal death," as many do. I wonder what they mean? It is an ambiguous phrase. It might mean endless torment after death; or it might mean annihilation at death; or it might mean annihilation at some future time. It is surely misleading to use a phrase that may have so many meanings. If some definite idea cannot be advanced, I think the effect will be that the whole matter will be regarded as uncertain, and that there is nothing to fear. And such I believe is largely the position of the Christian world to-day. Could not a consensus of doctrine be arrived at by the various Christian churches—a consensus founded on the best interpretation of the Word; and also on reason?
Only last Sunday I heard a sermon on success in life. And it was a better and more spiritual sermon than many that we hear on that subject. The preacher strongly commended the Bible as the best text book on success; and he was earnest and positive in his distinction between right and wrong. But he gave no hint that evil doers would have any punishment in the next life. In fact, he made no allusion to a next life at all, except in one instance where he spoke of multitudes of men going out into the next life as "miserable failures." Why did he not speak of endless torment? That is one article in his creed; but he seemed not to believe it. A few earnest sentences along that line would have been more effectual, in my view, than his entire sermon.
Or, if he does not believe in endless torment, does he not believe in Restoration? Might he not have uttered some warnings along that line? Surely, it is a tremendous conviction to give a sinful man, that if he does not repent in this life he must do so in the next, though it takes thousands of years, and untold penalties, to bring him to that state of mind. But not a word of this terror did the preacher utter. That would be a repudiation of the endless torment theory, which would be unorthodox, and possibly subject the preacher himself to pains and penalties. So he simply said nothing by way of warning, except failure in this life. And that does not seem to amount to very much after all. Is it worth while to preach a sermon about it? Would not the old philosophy be almost as good, "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die?"
Would it not be better to take the suffering incident to the Restoration theory, and be positive about it as a warning rather than the vague and half-hearted reference to eternal punishment, or the omission of any reference to it whatever? The manner in which it is referred to, when spoken of at all, gives one the strong impression that it is not believed. For, if believed, it would certainly not be preached in any vague or heartless way. Even the lurid representations of hell that formerly prevailed, were possibly better; for at least they were sincere.
But it may be said that we have no details of the suffering incident to Restoration, and that therefore such a warning cannot be used with effect. I would say that neither have we any details of endless torment. So the same argument applies. I would say further that we have very meagre details of heavenly joy. But that does not prevent our belief in it. Let it be clearly understood that a knowledge of details is not necessary to belief. It is purely a matter of revelation. There may be good reasons why details are not given. The fact is enough for the present; details will be known in due time.
So the sermon I have referred to related wholly to worldly success, with a mere glance at the possibility of a future life, which in reality favored unbelief. The whole sermon struck me as a kind of religious exploitation of materialism.
Just now I have met with a magazine article in which the phrase "eternal death" is used. The author is an eminent Presbyterian minister, whom I know well. I really could not understand his meaning. I wrote to him asking whether he meant eternal extinction or eternal torment; or whether he threw out the phrase loosely, leaving his readers to take whichever view they chose. Here is his reply:
"I thank you for your kind reference to my articles on the Sunday School Lesson, and note your question about the phrase, 'Eternal Death,' The meaning of the phrase in my mind is largely determined by the meaning of the corresponding phrase, 'Eternal Life.' In His use of the latter phrase, our Lord evidently lays emphasis, not upon the thought of duration, but upon that of quality. Eternal Life is a certain kind of life which He gives to His people now. Similarly, Eternal Death is a state in which people may exist even while they are in this world. It is eternal in regard to duration in this sense, that it has no awakening; its tendency is to persist forever. But that is not to say that God cannot bring one from a state of eternal death into that of eternal life. I do not know whether I have made myself clear, but it is somewhat in this way that the matter presents itself to my mind."
So I am not really much the wiser, except that the reply tends to confirm my opinion as to the ambiguous way in which the phrase is often used.
In my view, such ambiguity is unfortunate in any case, but more especially so when it is used with regard to our eternal future; and even more so when it is used in an article, as in this case, avowedly for children. Does it not lead directly to scepticism? And even if it did not, is it not rather a cruel thing to put upon children the onus of deciding a question of such tremendous importance? Would it not be better to say candidly that we do not know?
To be sure, it may be said that the church is in a state of transition on this question, and that it is better to wait for the church's final decision. But in the meantime, and we do not know for how long, we are sowing the seeds of scepticism. Besides; this avowed waiting for the church's final decision may be only a pious pretense, because of want of courage to declare honest conviction. I say so because I have spoken with many ministers whose convictions are most decidedly contrary to the orthodox doctrines; but there is a marked hesitation in publicly avowing them. Is this expediency or cowardice? What we want is more charity to treat this as an open question, so that men might explore the whole realm of truth, and express their honest convictions without fear.
I see that the Chairman of the London Congregational Union deplores this general lack of warning. He quotes the late Dr. Dale as saying, "No one fears God now."
I have just heard an impassioned address, pleading for men and money to evangelize the multitudes that are pouring into the great North West of Canada. It was natural for the speaker to lay great stress on human effort; but I thought he might have made a casual reference to the Spirit of God as supreme; yet not a word did he utter on that topic. For the most part he presented no higher incentive than the development of character, and the building up of the empire on a foundation of righteousness. But not a word did he utter in regard to the penalty of sin after death on the part of the immigrants, if we fail to give them the Gospel. In fact, there was no hint at all of immortality.
Yet the speaker is a Presbyterian minister who professes to believe in eternal torment. But not a word did he say on that topic. Surely, he might have found the supreme incentive there. It strikes me that a few earnest words along that line would have had more effect than his entire address. That is, if the doctrine of eternal torment is true, and if the preacher believes it. But in all fairness, does not the conviction force itself upon us that he does not believe it? Why, then, does he not say so? Especially, why does he not say so when he is pleading for missions? He is afraid, perhaps, of pains and penalties. Or he may try to convince himself that it is wiser not to be too outspoken; that there is a time for everything; that he might do more harm than good; and so on.
But the truth is divine. No good can come of its suppression, especially on a matter of such eternal moment. And how can we look for further light, if we are unfaithful to the light we have? And what about the character of duplicity we are fostering in our own souls in the name of righteousness?
Listen to these scathing words of warning spoken by Caryle. He says: "What is incredible to thee, thou shalt not at thy soul's peril attempt to believe."
How will it fare with any church that acts so? Will not the light that is in her be darkness? How can we expect to receive growing divine illuminations if we affect to believe what we are convinced is untrue? Would it not be wiser and safer to put all the orthodox Confessions on the shelf—yes, on the top shelf—and take instead such a simple creed as this: "We believe the Scripture to be the Word of God." Then, though we might differ, we would not be afraid to avow, our convictions, and we would not be accounted heretics. Let the dead past bury its dead.
There is another serious consideration. When one of the heathen is converted, especially an intelligent one, how would it do to put into his hands our orthodox Confessions of Faith? Would he not stumble at the doctrine of endless torment? He would think reasonably, of course; not like ourselves who are so dominated by tradition. Then, I say, would he not stumble? If we tried to substantiate the doctrine, would it not be a serious impediment to his faith? On the other hand, if we tried to explain it away, would he not think us a lot of hypocrites?
Professor Faulkner, of Toronto University, said lately, and I think truly, that one reason why theology is now under a cloud, is that men are afraid of heresy. Surely, nothing could be more unfortunate than to carry this spirit into missions.
We do hope that the missionary campaign lately launched will have great success. Only we would like it if it had been launched on a higher plane. It is worthy of the highest.
We are often told that there are a thousand millions of heathen; and our creed teaches us that they are dropping into hell every? day. What could be so compelling a motive in any missionary enterprise as to save some of 'them from such a fate? But it is never mentioned. Is it believed? Certainly, we profess to believe it. But do we? If we do, would it not be the paramount, compelling motive? But instead of that, the main idea is to convert the heathen from savagery to civilization. Make them good citizens—that is the idea. Especially in regard to the influx of immigrants, there seldom seems to be no higher motive than to make them worthy of this great country. I have read just now an article in one of our religious papers, which affects to be very earnest, but to me it seems a mere outburst of quasi-patriotism.
Now is it not time to be honest? The trouble is, that men are afraid to be. We have put the doctrine of endless torment in the Confession, both of the Methodist and of the Presbyterian Churches, and we are afraid to go back on it for fear of the pains and penalties of the church. Moreover, we do not like to confess that for ages we were wrong; and it seems disloyal to go back on the fathers who framed these confessions. So we hang on to them in theory, but repudiate them in fact. Is it not so?
Now, what is the compelling power in all missionary enterprise? To those who believe in endless torment, surely the controlling motive is to save the millions of heathen from such a fate. Both the Presbyterian and Methodist Churches profess to believe in that doctrine. But the singular thing is, that in neither church is it preached. The suspicion is, that it is not believed. And this is more than a suspicion. I myself have heard no sermon on hell, nor any definite reference to it, since I was a child. A Methodist minister in Canada, largely in touch with his brethren, told me lately most positively, that Methodist ministers do not believe in endless torment. Many Presbyterian ministers with whom I have spoken take the same ground.
Now, it is a hard thing to say that a doctrine of such eternal moment is openly professed, yet inwardly repudiated. But if it were really believed, would it not be preached—yes, preached morning, noon, and night? For there are reckoned to be a thousand millions of heathen in distant lands, besides all the other millions that we have here at home. So all these heathen are supposed to be dropping by the thousand into hell every day. And consider; there are a thousand millions of them, and their number is continually increasing.
Would it not then be the main incentive to give these uncounted millions the Gospel, in order to save them from such a doom? There may be other considerations; but in all consistency, is not this the pressing one? Yet not once have I heard this matter referred to in any late missionary address. There was a little spiritual truth in them all. But the chief motive presented was, to convert the heathen from savagery to civilization. So the whole performance usually seemed to me not much more than an exploitation of materialism.
Then, if ministers do not believe in endless torment, why do they not say so? I can imagine two reasons. First, as I have said, there is the fear of pains and penalties. A man may lose his position; and that is a serious consideration. Then there is an unwillingness to go back on the fathers who framed these creeds.
But do either or both of these reasons justify conscientious men in suppressing a truth of such momentous importance? A thousand times, No! Candor and honesty first; veneration for the fathers after. Would it not conduce to real success if this matter were maturely and honestly considered? It might arouse some amount of disunion and debate. But would it not lift the whole tone of the missionary movement to a far higher plane? And might we not believe that it would lead to more sustained effort, and far greater success?
At all events, there is one matter well worth considering. How can the Spirit of Truth lead us into larger visions of Truth if we willingly, tamper with our most sacred convictions? Let us remember that there are growing revelations. May we be of an open mind, and so in an attitude to receive them!
It does seem to me that much of the activity of the evangelical churches is in a large measure discounted by this want of candor. If earnest men only knew how amenable the world would become to the Gospel, and what a glad day they would usher in when they would candidly renounce the doctrine of endless torment, I believe the majority would do it. Surely, this would be one of the brightest days that has ever dawned on the world.
Just now I have had a strange experience. On a certain Sabbath morning I opened the Bible at random at the eleventh chapter of the Romans. That, you know, is the great chapter about the Restoration of the Jews. I had read some verses of that chapter, when there flashed on my mind the idea that here we have a most profound argument for spiritual Restoration. I had not been thinking at all of Restoration at the time; but here the subject was forced upon me in quite a new light. As I read on, that conviction grew. From the point of view of Restoration, the argument of the apostle seemed coherent, profound, glorious. From any other standpoint it seemed to me, and had always seemed, a mystery. All mystery was cleared up now. The Restoration of God's favored people is clearly foretold; but orthodoxy had never thought of locating the event in the next life. But it has ever been a great tax on men's ingenuity to show how the event can occur in this life. For we cannot ignore facts, and facts are all against such a conception.
Even if in future generations the Jews who are then living are all turned to God, as we believe they will, what about the millions and millions who have died? The enigma receives a glorious solution when we realize that the future life is to be the time of the Restoration. Oh, yes; the prophecy will be fulfilled; God's ancient people will be restored. Divine power and grace are not limited to this short epoch of time; they are from everlasting to everlasting. Surely, here is a theme for heaven's eternal songs!
Enlarging Vision—Promise to Abraham—A Host of Similar Promises —Many of them Not Merely National—Their Fulfillment—Not Limited by the Short Epoch of Time—The Present Only One Part of the Divine Administration—Why the Revelation Was Not Given Sooner—Groping in the Twilight—Growing Illumination—A Time for Everything—Dazzle or Enlighten—Discoveries in Science and Revelation—Our Slowness in Receiving Spiritual Truth—Limitations of Great Men.
If reason, even when based on revelation, still appears to you a very fallible guide, will you please take note of some direct promises contained in revelation itself? And I would ask you to consider how these promises could ever come true apart from Restoration. There are glorious promises that are partly or wholly of a local or national character. These that I shall cite now are not to be so restricted. They have a far grander sweep and application. No doubt the writers of them may not have been conscious of their full import. But that is the nature of revelation. It grows in meaning from age to age. And the noontide glory of those promises is beginning to break on our larger vision.
Take the words spoken to Abraham: "In thee shall all the families of the earth be blessed." To realize that this promise was of no mere national importance, listen to the way in which Paul applies it in his Epistle to the Galatians. He says: "The Scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the heathen through faith preached before the Gospel unto Abraham, saying, In thee shall all nations be blessed."
Now has that promise been fulfilled? Since Abraham's time have not millions and millions of the families of the earth passed out into darkness unblessed? Other millions of families are passing away now, without having once heard the Saviour's name. And other millions deliberately reject Him. Certainly, all these millions are unblessed, In their case the promise has not been fulfilled. But it will be fulfilled. Beyond the bourne of time it will come true. This glorious enlargement of the scope of the promise takes away all difficulty, and fills us with joy and praise.
The other passages that I shall quote bear the same way, but we shall not stay to make any comment on them. I would ask you to think them over seriously; disarm your mind as far as possible from prejudice; let the glorious truth prevail. Ponder such passages as these:
"All the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God."
"As the new heavens and the new earth which I will make, shall remain before me, saith the Lord, so shall your seed and your name remain."
"Ask of me, and I shall give thee the heathen for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy possession."
"All the ends of the world shall remember and turn unto the Lord."
"All nations whom thou hast made shall come and worship before thee, OLord; and shall glorify thy name."
"All the ends of the earth have seen the salvation of our God."
"In the Lord shall all the seed of Israel be justified, and shall glory."
"I will give thee for a light to the Gentiles, that thou mayest be my salvation unto the ends of the earth."
"His name shall endure forever; it shall be continued as long as the sun; men shall be blessed in him, all nations shall call him blessed."
"And the angel said unto them, Fear not; for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the City of David, a Saviour which is Christ the Lord."
"It is written in the book of the prophet Esaias, All flesh shall see the salvation of God."
"Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth; and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father."
"Who shall not fear thee, O Lord, and glorify Thy name? For thou only art holy; for all nations shall come and worship before thee."
"All Israel shall be saved."
"And every creature which is in heaven, and on the earth and under the earth, and such as are in the sea, and all that are in them, heard I saying, Blessing and honor and glory and power, be unto Him that sitteth on the throne, and unto the Lamb forever and ever."
Such are some of the Scripture forecasts of the final day of grace. Men have tried to confine the realization of such promises to the present life. But they will not be so confined. The vast scheme of grace extends far beyond the narrow span of time. Only conceive of the fulfillment of such glorious hopes as being extended into the next age. Such a prospect begins to appear to be truly worthy of God. And surely, the news of such an enlarged scheme of salvation is the most joyful that ever fell on mortal ears. Men of the most devout and reverent spirit are beginning to take these larger views. The day is breaking; soon the shadows will flee away.
If such promises as we have quoted seem too general, or merely national, just confine your attention to a few which are evidently of a far wider scope.
Christ says he will draw all men to Himself. Then He must do so in the next life; for certainly He is not doing so now. But His word will stand. He will do all His pleasure. It is a marvel that the Christian world has taken so long to see this promise in its glorious fulness.
In harmony with the statement just referred to, we read in Isaiah that "he shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied." Are not these wonderful words? How are they to be explained? The travail of His soul! Who can fathom that abyss of woe? The very words are suggestive of untold agony. I believe that at the last He touched a depth of woe which no man or angel has sounded.
But He shall have a recompense that will satisfy Him. Does not that point to the salvation of the whole race? Would anything less satisfy Him? Does He not say that He came to save the world? And will anything less satisfy Him? Certainly He is not satisfied now. The moiety of mankind that is saved now, or to be saved to the end of time, will not satisfy Him. No! His divine love embraces the whole race.
What then about the uncounted millions who never heard of Him? What about the millions that are dying now, and that never heard the music of His name? Is not every one of them in the divine scheme of salvation? Their time will come. The Saviour's operations are not limited to one age. His love is from everlasting to everlasting; and so are the means at His disposal. In this age we see but the beginning of the outgoings of His grace. We cannot conceive of Him being satisfied till the last soul of the human race is redeemed.
I shall not go farther along this line than simply to remind you that it is written that God will be "all in all." That is a wonderful expression when we look into it. What does it really mean? Does it not mean that God will be all in all? That is—He will be everything in everybody. I take it that this is the real meaning of the words, Everything in everybody! O mystery of love and power divine!
I apprehend that the significance of the words "all in all" is not fully appreciated or understood. See, for instance, the way in which the words are used in that hymn, "That Christ is all in all to me."
The words, "all in all to me" seem to be used as an attempt to emphasize the force of the sentiment, "all to me." That is, He satisfies my every want. But I apprehend that the words have a much larger meaning than that. It is not myself alone, but everybody that is concerned here. It is that Christ is everything to every human soul. Everything that He is, is made over to everybody. What a glorious expansion of the words! "All in all;" that is, everything in everybody. Was there ever such an infinite wealth of meaning packed into a few short words?
Or, take the message which the angels brought down to earth on the occasion of the Saviour's birth. They told the shepherds that they brought good tidings of great joy to all people. What, then, about the uncounted millions of our race who had departed this life without ever having heard of a Saviour? If they were either in hopeless torment, or in extinction, how could the Saviour's coming be good tidings to them? And what about the millions that were then living in heathenism, and would die in heathenism? How could the Saviour's coming be good tidings to them? And what about the millions that are living now, and the other millions that will be born who will die without hearing of a Saviour? How could His advent be good tidings to those? And what about the other millions in Christian lands, who will live and die without any saving power being brought into their life? How could the Saviour's birth be good tidings to any of these myriads of our race?
Only on the theory that the benefits of His coming extend into the next life, could the words be true. If these uncounted millions are in endless torment, or if they are annihilated, the words could not be true. But they are gloriously true if there is a future state of probation. In that case the benefits of the Saviour's life and death extend beyond human life to those myriads who never heard of Him here.
The angels knew something of the glad purport of their words. Likely they saw this day of grace beyond the bourne of time. I cannot conceive of any other basis on which the words would be true. It was the gladdest message that ever fell on mortal ears, if we take it in this wide application. Likely these angels were able to exult in the prospect of every human soul being redeemed.
In harmony with the passage referred to, we have the intimation that Christ will draw all men to Himself. That promise cannot be restricted to the present life. Christ has not drawn all men to Himself. He has not drawn more than a moiety of the human race. But He says He will draw all mankind. That was the prospect that sustained Him. He had a full view of all future ages as well as the present; and He knew what means He would use through all coming time for the accomplishment of His purpose.
The present is only one small part of His administration. He gives no hint of the means that He will use in future aeons for the fulfillment of His designs. That is not for us to know in this life. Indeed such a revelation would only confuse and bewilder us. For consider how such a revelation might involve the revelation of a great many other things far beyond us to understand.
We are confused enough as it is, with the revelation that we have. Witness the unfolding meaning of revelation from age to age. We realize that enough has been revealed to tax the growing powers of the race. How completely all our thoughts would be drowned if we were given the programme of the ages beyond.
No; our Lord does a much wiser and kinder thing. By one simple sentence he opens the door of everlasting hope. He says He will draw all men to Himself; but He does not tell us how or when. Those are matters for faith, not for revelation. We can take no smaller meaning from this glorious promise, distort it as men will, to make it fit into some preconceived theory.
Again, we would enquire, apart from all theories to be sustained, what is the meaning of those wonderful words:
"All Israel shall be saved." I know there is a roundabout way of explaining that statement, apart from the idea of Restoration. But it seems far-fetched and strained. When once we grasp the theory of Restoration, the words seem natural and harmonious with the whole argument.
We see that such promises cannot refer to the present life. If they do, what about the Jews of the olden time who lapsed so often into the grossest sin? What about the tears of Christ over the apostate city? What about the present condition of that race? Are they saved? No! they still repudiate the name of Christ. Do they become extinct when they die? Or do they go into everlasting torment? In either event they could not be saved as promised. Or will they be restored in due time? On no other supposition can we conceive of the words coming true.
To this theory I can conceive of an objection, which at the first glance may seem a formidable one. It is this: If the theory is true, why did it not dawn on the world sooner? Especially when we consider what a boon it would have been to the race, and what a dark mantle of gloom it would have lifted from the heart of the world, why did God withhold the light so long? Surely there were saints and seers of the olden time who were worthy to be media of such a communication. And surely the generations of the past needed such a spiritual uplift as much as we do to-day. Yet for ages and ages the revelation was not given. Men had to grope in the twilight for centuries, until at length the illumination dawned on a few souls. But the reputed wise men of the world did not hail with joy the new illumination, but generally treated it as a new presumption. And however agreeable with reason and with Scripture it may be shown to be, it will likely not be universally accepted for ages to come. If the theory is really true, and if it comes from God, the Source of all light, why was this poor world not blessed with it sooner?
I say, that objection may appear a formidable one at the first glance.Let us examine it with all fairness and candor.
In the first place, I would say that it is not God's way to give us His revelations all at once. No, not even when He inspires men to write them. Those revelations have a primitive meaning, suited for men of a primitive age. But as the ages go on, and men become more developed, there breaks on them more light from the Word. And that light is brighter very often than even the original writers apprehended. They built better than they knew, for they were writing, not for their own age alone, but for all time. This unique character of the revelation shows that it is divine. And thus there still "breaks more light from God's holy Word" as the ages move on. Whether or not, then, we see the reason of it, we note the fact that it is not God's method to pour the full flood of His light on the minds and hearts of men all at once. If we could see no farther than that, we might be content, and reverently say, "Even so, Father; for so it seemed good in thy sight."