THE METHODIST QUARTERLY REVIEW. JANUARY, 1865. ART. I.-THE IDEA OF GOD AS A LAW OF RELIGIOUS DEVELOPMENT. RELIGION, true or false, is the development of the soul toward some recognized divinity. Such divinity is as truly and essentially its object, as the soul is its subject. In the popular notion religion consists in creeds, in forms of worship, in ceremonies and rules of life. Thus we speak of the religion of Buddha, of Brahma, of Zoroaster, of Mohammed; of the Jewish religion. But, in any exact sense, creeds, forms, usages, ceremonies, rules, are only the modes and means of religion, not the religion itself. This we find in certain states or exercises of the rational and affectional nature toward some divinity. Hence it is only as we come to the recognition of a divinity, and to the exercise of such thought and affection toward the same, that we enter the religious state. However active the soul may be, or vast the range of its research, or truthful and valuable its acquirements; or, however active and intense the emotions, and though they fill the circle of all other relations, still there is no religion till the soul rests upon some divinity. Without a god, without religion. True religion is the right development of the soul toward God. Only as we rise to a knowledge of him, and to a right exercise of thought and affection toward him, do we reach a true religious state. There are many virtuous affections belonging to the sphere of our earthly relations. They are rich in FOURTH SERIES, VOL. XVII.—1 beauty and worth, and may all be wrought into the religious life. Such are gentleness, kindness, honesty, truthfulness, friendship, sympathy, the parental and filial affections. But all these, even in their highest form, do not, of themselves, constitute true religion. In order to this the soul must rise into the sphere of its relation to God, and move harmoniously therein. But as it so rises and moves, it carries with it all these virtues, and thus places them within the sphere of true religion. Now, religion being such in its subjective character, and in its relation to Deity as its object, the idea of God must be a fundamental law of religious development. It must be such on several grounds: one, as the condition of such development; another, as determining its character or type; a third, as the consequent of the second, the more truthful this idea, the more perfect the religious development. The religious life having such laws of growth and formation, the truthful presentation of God should have prominence in all religious teaching. Specially should his character be the subject of much devout meditation. We do not want many elaborate treatises, or sermons of profound argument, in proof of his existence. Atheism has never made permanent headway, and never can. Our religious intuitions forbid it. It is a sporadic thing, and comes of frenzy, or folly, but not to remain with any considerable number. "The fool hath said in his heart, there is no God." And why reason much with him? It is hard to dissuade him from his folly. As Dean Swift says: "You cannot reason a man out of what he never reasoned himself into." And none ever reasoned himself into atheism. It is assumed against all evidence. And if a man, while standing upon the mountain height, with the meridian sun in the cloudless heavens, and surveying, with open eyes, the surrounding world glowing in his beams, will still deny that there is a sun in the heavens, why then you must leave him to his folly. Nor do we want much abstruse, metaphysical discussion of the divine character, as though by "searching" we could "find out God." The need is for plain, scriptural, practical presentations. As religion has its ultimate, supreme relation to God, and takes its mold from the impression of his character upon us; and as the form of that impression is determined by our idea of his eharaeter, such plain, truthful, practical views are vitally important. Sure it is that his character is too little the subject of devout meditation. The mere thought of God must often be present to the mind. This is of little consequence. It is without moral force or religious character. This meditation is quite another thing. It is a deep, devout contemplation of God, in all truthful views, till we receive the true impress of his character upon the soul. The idea of God is a requisite to any proper religious development. But the consideration of this point must await the statement of certain facts in the religious life. And, indeed, it will require little illustration after this statement, as it will appear sufficiently plain in the light of these facts. Religion, as an inward life, is affectional rather than intellectual. Pure intellect, simply as such, is not capable of religion. It might apprehend divine truth and the character of God. All the facts and truths of revelation, as the facts of history and truths of philosophy, might lie open to its understanding. But without emotion it could take no religious character. All virtues or moral excellences are predicables of the affectional nature. The most truthful credenda and the best principles must live in the heart, and be warmed and vivified with its affections before they can enter into the religious life. Without emotion we are dead to all things of mental cognition. We look upon the landscape and the heavens; the mind takes in the whole vision, but the heart must answer to the beauty and grandeur of the scene. We see the victim of calamity and suffering; the mind apprehends all the facts of his misery, but the heart must answer to his suffering with a deep and generous sympathy. Goodness and truth, friendship, duty, charity, patriotism, the parental and filial relations; all, without their correlative emotions, could be but cold, lifeless conceptions. So, without emotion, the clearest intellective cognitions of God and truth are as cold and forceless as the pallid moonbeams that fall on glacier mountains. They must warm and quicken the affections before there can be any religious life. In religion there are two cardinal affections, love and fear. The Scriptures designate religion, sometimes as love, sometimes as fear; yet the words are not synonyms. They are very diverse in sense. Whence, then, this interchange of distinct terms for the same thing? Doubtless from this, that in a true religious state these two affections always coexist. Hence, when the Scriptures designate either as true religion, they always imply the other. And all these facts recognize the two affections as cardinal in religion. There is no question or opposing opinion respecting the position of love, nor should there be any respecting fear; it is as properly an element of all true religion as love. The proposition is without limitation. We affirm it as much of angels as of men. The fear of God, such fear as is responsive to the impression of his justice, has its place in the religion of pure, unfallen minds. It is comely there. The character of God, as just as well as good; the principles of his moral government which harmonize to that character; and the moral constitution of his intelligent creatures, formed in correlation to both, all affirm the truth of these statements. We assume in angels a moral constitution like our own. There is ground for affirmation, specially as to its cardinal endowments. A few fundamental principles often warrant the most general conclusions. There are certain great physical laws that rule our own world, and we hesitate not to affirm that they hold sway over all worlds, even over those that lie beyond the sweep of the mightiest telescope, or are so remote that their light has not yet reached us, as much as over those of our own system. Now we have, as a basis, truth, the moral character of God. This determines the moral constitution of his intelligent creatures, for it is formed in correlation to his own. And, as a God of goodness and justice, he has endowed all with the affections of love and fear, as responsive to these divine attributes. In the last analysis, the goodness and justice of God, appealing to the love and fear of his creatures, are the ultimate cardinal forces for good in his moral government. But fear, as wrought into a true religious life, whether of man or angel, is not a feeling of servility or punitive dread, yet is it true fear, as it has for its object the divine justice. Punitive dread is not a primal or normal quality of religious fear; it comes with sin, and is the fruit of guilt, hence it is abnormal. Had all stood fast in holiness and obedience, there had been no dreading fear of God. The guiltless mind is free from such a feeling. Such is the normal quality of religious fear, and such we find in all true |