The Freedom of Faith

WHEN a clergyman puts forth a volume of sermons, he makes a tacit application for admission into the ranks of literature. It is true, he may so emphasize the sermon form in his book as to give the impression that he is but seeking to enlarge his parish ; on the other hand, he may so subordinate this form as to appear to unfrock himself. In the main, however, while a volume of sermons can scarcely escape the conditions of its origin, it does, by ranging itself with other books, acquire a certain consideration as literature ; the very fact that the sermons are to be read, and not listened to, subjects them to the tests applied to other printed books. Mr. Munger, in his The Freedom of Faith,¹

has shown a singular felicity in adapting himself to the readers of books, without losing his proper function of a preacher to hearers. To begin with outside impressions, his book appeals to the eye as a work of literature. It has a cheerful, ruddy countenance, and its dress is that of dignity and ease. Then the title is a comprehensive one, which indicates the spirit of the work, and is not drawn from any single theme under treatment; the titles of the separate sermons are bold and suggestive ; the name sermon is scarcely obtruded ; each division of the book has, to be sure, its heading drawn from a passage in the Bible, but it has also, by way of illustrative text, a collection of passages from literature, all of remarkable beauty and aptness. Only once in the book do we notice a sentence which requires the notion of a listening audience to complete it.

The connection with literature which the book has is not confined to the use of mottoes. The reader is repeatedly refreshed, in following the discussion of some high theme, by a draught from pure literature ; the reference to poet or philosopher is not for illustration only, but for interpretation. When, for example, Mr. Munger is treating of Moral Environment, he draws from the poets a fine argument for the existence of a world of moral and spiritual fact, which is the theatre and condition of moral and spiritual culture. “ Shakespeare,” he says, “ almost without fail, puts every great moral action into a framework of corresponding physical likeness. The tempest in Lear’s heart is linked to the tempest of the elements by more than a fancy. The moonlight sleeping on the bank and the distant music have a logical relation to the lovers’ hearts. When ‘ fair is foul and foul is fair,’ these moral confusions ‘ hover through the fog and filthy air,’ and are uttered on a ‘ blasted heath.’ . . . Throughout, this master of thought throws back into the physical world the reflections of the moral acts done within it, but on what ground, except that in and behind the physical there is a moral order, on which they repose? ” In another place, when calling for the testimony of men in support of a belief in immortality, he makes the significant statement: —

“ The master-minds have been strongest in their affirmations of it. We do not refer to those who receive it as a part of their religion. In weighing the value of the natural or instructive belief, Augustine’s faith does not count for so much as Cicero’s, and Plato’s outweighs Bacon s; Plutarch is a better witness than Chrysostom, Montesquieu than Wesley, Franklin than Edwards, Emerson than Channing; Greg’s hope is more significant than Bughnell’s faith. . . . Wordsworth touched the high - water mark of the literature of the century in his Ode on Immortality, and Tennyson’s greatest poem is throughout exultant in the hope that ‘ Life shall live forever more.’ ”

If all this merely indicated the affluence of Mr. Munger’s literary reference, it would not go far toward demonstrating the integral iiterary value of his sermons. Indeed, abundance of quotation or allusion leads one to suspect the originality of an author’s mind. The worth of the volume, upon the side of literature, lies rather in the fact that Mr. Munger ranges himself in his thought with poets and thinkers, and not distinctly with theologiaus. Herein is an important discovery ; for whatever may be the contribution which theology makes to science, it is the contact of theology with the conduct of life which must determine the universality of any theological revival. Mr. Munger prefaces his volume with a paper on The New Theology, though he deprecates that popular name, and thinks the current movement more justly a Renaissance. The paper is one of clearness, precision, and breadth ; but after all, his position is vindicated by nothing so much as by the alliance which he is constantly making, consciously or unconsciously, with the common thoughts and hopes of men. The poets in all ages have been witnesses to the highest life of humanity, and Mr. Munger as a theologian is eager to share their position, not to make one for preachers. The junction which he makes with literature is not a mechanical one ; it is real and vital.

There is another aspect, almost equally removed from the professional, in which these sermons may be regarded. A sermon usually implies not only a hearer, but a hearer who has come to church in a more or less willing mood. By placing himself in the congregation he has rendered himself liable to be looked upon by the preacher as one of “ my people.” A minister of singular insight into character has called attention to the attitude which a pastor takes to his hearers: “ There is something in the congregation which is not in the men and women as he knows them in their separate humanities, something in the aggregate which was not in the individuals, a character in the whole which was not in the parts. This is the reason why he can group them in his thought as a peculiar people, hold them in his hand as a new human unity in congregation.”

The relation which subsists thus between the minister and his people is capable of a wide interpretation, but it is very apt to be marked somewhat sharply by a distinction in the preacher’s mind between those who are and those who are not members of the church. Mr. Munger does not make light of this discrimination. “ It is a matter of regret,” he says, “ that to stand within or without the church is getting to be regarded with indifference ; ” and elsewhere he leaves the reader in no doubt of his belief in a radical distinction between a living faith and a dead selfishness. Nevertheless, it is very plain that this preacher looks upon men in a broader and more tolerant manner than sometimes belongs to the pulpit. There is a figure who is apt to haunt the mind of the preacher when he is preparing his discourses, and to be present with a contemptuous smile on his face in the congregation, as the preacher looks down upon it from his height. This figure goes frequently by the name of a “ mere man of the world.” He masquerades largely in pulpit discourses, and has a baleful influence over the minister. It is significant of Mr. Munger’s attitude that he seems quite unconscious of the presence of this uncomfortable being. Perhaps it would be more exact to say that these sermons are addressed to men of the world in an unclassified state.

The respect which Mr. Hunger shows his readers is seen in the confidence with which he invites them to a consideration of high themes, and the absence of any concession to indifference. There are preachers who seem anxious to strip Sunday of any shred of sanctity which it may possess ; to turn the pulpit into a lecturing desk, and cover the Bible with a newspaper. Mr. Munger is not one of these. He thinks that the spirit of man has eternal possessions, and that these are worthy of the best thought which can be given them; and when he speaks of the life which now is, it is with an unfailing recognition of the heaven above the head, as well as the earth beneath the feet. Thus he makes his theology interpret life, but he does not make a plow-horse of Pegasus. One of the most striking sermons in the volume is the one on Land Tenure ; and if any one who is accustomed to hear current affairs discussed in the pulpit will read it, he will find the difference between what is commonly called political preaching and that which deals with the great facts of political life in their relation to Christianity.

We have wished simply to call attention to this volume as an addition to literature. It takes at once a high place, both by the largeness of its temper and the beauty of its style, and by its fidelity to a high ideal of the preacher’s vocation. The discourses are sermons, instinct with a personal meaning, not philosophical discussions of important themes. The vitality of the book is to be found in its positive, constructive theology, its freedom from negative criticism, its fullness of conception of spiritual liberty. At the close of the sermon upon The Christ as a Preacher occurs an eloquent passage which is the best possible statement of the quality of the power in this book, and we give it as the keynote of the book: —

“The main element of power in one who speaks is an entire or the largest possible comprehension of the subject. One may earnestly declare a truth, but if he does not see it he will not impress it. But whenever one sees a truth in all its proportions and relations and bearings, sees it with clear, intense, absolute vision, he will have power over men, however he speaks. Here we have the key to the power with which Christ preached. We read that the spirit of the Lord was upon Him. He was filled with the Spirit; inspired, breathed upon through and through by the divine breath. But it was not the spirit that spoke through the Christ, nor was the power that of the spirit. The power was in the Christ, whose being was set in motion by the spirit. He was not an instrument played upon, a divine harp responding to heavenly winds, but an actor, a mind that saw, a heart that felt, a will that decided, all moving together. He was passive only in the freedom with which He gave himself up to be possessed by the spirit. It was a force behind and in his faculties, illuminating and arousing them to their fullest action. It is not the light that sees, but the eye illuminated by light. Inspiration is a mystery, and it is not a mystery. It is not a mystery in the respect that we know it to be a fact; it is a mystery in the respect that we cannot understand it. We hear the sound thereof, but cannot tell whence it cometh or whither it goeth. It is the witness put into humanity that it is kindred with God. We

know not what it is, but when we feel its breath we know that it is the breath of God. But the spirit is not the power of Christ; it is rather that which sets in action Christ’s own power, which lay in his absolute comprehension of what He said, and in a perfect comprehension of his position. He saw the meaning of the Jewish system. He knew what the acceptable year of the Lord meant. He pierced the old system of symbolism to the centre, and drew out its significance. He saw that God was a deliverer from first to last, and measured the significance of the fact. He knew that God was the Father, and the full force and mighty sweep of that name. The whole heart and mind of God were open to Him. . . . This was the power of Christ’s preaching; He saw God; He understood God; He comprehended God ; He knew what God had done, and would do ; the whole purpose and plan of deliverance and redemption lay before Him as an open page. We cannot measure this knowledge of the Christ; we can but faintly conceive of it. But the measure of our conception of it is the measure of our Spiritual power over others. We speak, we teach, we live, with power just in the degree in which we have got sight of God in the revealing Christ, and through Him of the purpose and plan that underlie these mysteries that we call life and time.”