[ p. 48 ]
It was in the wake of these revelations of comparative religion that there appeared in the United States some sixty years ago a cosomopolitanism in religion analogous to the political cosmopolitanism of the eighteenth century. The latter stood for a relationship among all the peoples of the earth in which national distinctions were to be completely obliterated in a blaze of universal brotherhood. It aimed to make all men and women like the courier who sat next me on the train from Naples to Rome—a man who, having traveled very extensively, had been brought into contact with people from all parts of the world and declared that as a consequence of these contacts he had learned to strip himself of all national characteristics, and proudly styled himself a cosmopolite. So this religious [ p. 49 ] cosmopolitanism of the last century had a corresponding aim, to obliterate all sectarian distinctions in a blaze of universal religion. It focused attention on the points of resemblance in the various religions and exploited them in sermons and lectures, in books and tracts. It created a composite picture of the religions said to be more beautiful and satisfying than the portraiture of any one of them taken alone, a religion not Jewish nor Christian, not Mohammedan nor Buddhist nor any other single type, but the religion of universal man. Conspicuous among the representatives of this religious cosmopolitanism were Octavius Frothingham, Francis E. Abbot, William J. Potter, Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Samuel Johnson, Samuel Longfellow, David Wasson, John Weiss—all of them prominently identified with the Free Religious Association of America, an organization which did more than any other in its day to popularize such revelations of comparative religion as had then come to light. All these men had the melting pot idea applied to religion, melting away all the [ p. 50 ] distinguishing features of the great religions in the interest of a nonsectarian cosmopolitanism, a fellowship that would embrace all mankind. Even so, the political cosmopolitanism of to-day gives symbolic expression to its faith in the passing of nationalities by melting in an iron pot the flags of all the various nations and then drawing forth the flag of universal man! Thus the religious situation in the last half of the nineteenth century was analogous to the political in the last quarter of the eighteenth century. But, as in the case of the latter so in the former, a reaction set in. In the one it was away from cosmopolitanism to nationalism, in the other, away from universalism to sectarianism. Recall for a moment the reaction as it appeared in the political world. It was heralded by the publication, early in 1914, of Professor Adolf Harnack’s essay on “Deutsche Kultur,” in which he took the ground that German civilization has all the excellences found in other nations plus certain acquisitions peculiar to Germany alone. “Deutsche Kultur,” he held, [ p. 51 ] was a “pleroma”—a fullness of content, consisting of everything admirable in the culture of other nationalities together with elements all its own and therefore it was a Kultur worthy of adoption by all the other nations of the earth. Then came the Englishman, Cramb, and the Scotchman, McNaughton, to tell us of the virtues of the Anglo-Saxon type. For them the white man’s burden was none other than to foist this type upon all other peoples as being clearly “the best.” Next in chronological order came a Serbian, making no extravagant claims for his nation’s attainments, but modestly, yet enthusiastically, bidding the rest of the world keep its eye on Serbia because she would yet develop the type of civilization which all would be eager to adopt. And then came Mr. Theodore Roosevelt to bespeak America’s claim to recognition but on which we need not dwell as it has long since been made familiar at home and abroad.
Now, the corresponding reaction in the religious realm was signalized by the appearance of James Freeman Clarke’s Ten Great [ p. 52 ] Religions. I confess to some diffidence in citing this book for I recall the remark made to me by Dr. James Martineau, the foremost liberal theologian of the nineteenth century, “Freeman Clarke is the New Englander whom I venerate most since the time of Cbanning.” Moreover, I am mindful of the fact that this book was first published sixty years ago when the science of comparative religion was still in its infancy. But after due allowance has been made for the great name of its author and the pioneer character of his book, the Ten Great Religions is unreservedly and avowedly sectarian. It is typical of the Christocentric method of approaching the non-Christian faiths, namely, looking upon Christianity as the absolute religion and estimating the worth of all others in terms of its absoluteness. Professor Jevons of Durham University, England, has recently issued a frank and explicit statement of the characteristic of this method. “The business of the science of religion,” he said, “is to discover all the facts necessary to an understanding of the growth and history of [ p. 53 ] religions. The business of the applied science is to use the discovered facts to show that Christianity is the highest manifestation of the religious spirit, to see what each religion lacks when compared with Christianity and wherein it improves on them.” [1] So Dr. Clarke, like Professor Jevons, starts with the hypothesis that Christianity is the absolute religion and proceeds, as an exponent of the science of comparative religion, to show wherein the other nine religions fall short of Christianity and wherein it improves on them. In this most popular of books on the subject we see Christianity set over against the other great religions in terms reminding us of Harnack’s essay. Indeed the very word “pleroma” is employed to indicate the preeminence of Christianity, possessing, as the author contends, everything of spiritual value to be found in the other religions plus ideal elements peculiar to it alone. In other words, Christianity is made the criterion for evaluating all the non-Christian faiths on the ground that [ p. 54 ] it is the one only perfect, the absolute religion, alone worthy to be universalized. See the picturesque design on the cover of the book, visualizing this sectarian standpoint.
Next there appeared a succession of monographs on the extant great religions, issued by the London Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge, carrying the claim of Clarke’s book further still, doing scant justice to the non-Christian systems in the sectarian ardor with which Christianity was discussed. These monographs, written by men with the missionary spirit, exemplify what may be termed the missionary method of approaching the non-Christian religions, the method which proceeds on the assumption that all religions may be classified as true and false, revealed and natural, divine and human. In the former class stands Christianity—and Judaism in so far as the origins of Christianity are rooted therein; in the other class all the other religions are grouped. Moreover, the missionary feels himself divinely ordained to bring to benighted pagans the one, only, true, [ p. 55 ] divine, revealed religion and if possible convert them to it. The outstanding example of this missionary “call” is the Mohammedanism of the Prophet who enjoined his followers to make converts by force if need be, because refusal to acknowledge and obey Allah is rebellion and rebellion must be suppressed, by persuasion if possible and if not, then by force. [2] To be sure, these aggressions described by Mohammed were motivated on political no less than on religious grounds, for he, being head of a church-state, regarded the two as identical. On the other hand, we have to note that in his aggressive policy he tolerated “the revealed religions, Judaism and Christianity,” yet constraining their adherents to abandon their error and submit to Allah.[3] It is in this spirit that the otherwise excellent monographs referred to were prepared. They remind one of the East India Treaty which England enacted in 1813, including a “missionaries’ charter” which provided “for the introduction of [ p. 56 ] religion into British dominions in the Far East.” As if there had been no religion in that region before—the land which has produced more religion than aught else; as if there were no “feeling after God if haply He might be found,” in Cashmere, in Benares, and Calcutta; as if spirituality were nonexistent among those who meditate on the banks of the Jumna, the Indus, and the Ganges!
Following these monographs there came the work of Ameer Seyd, for many years a judge on the British bench in Bengal, setting forth, with Islamic zeal, the finest features of Mohammedanism and over against them the worst in Christianity—reminding one of the familiar fable of iEsop on the Forester and the Lion. Walking together they fell to discussing the inevitable question, “Which is the stronger, a lion or a man?” Finding it quite impossible to solve the problem to their mutual satisfaction, they came suddenly upon a piece of statuary representing a man in the act of throwing down a lion. “There,” said the woodsman, “you see the man is the stronger.” [ p. 57 ] “Ah, yes!” said the lion, “but their positions would have been reversed if a lion had been the sculptor.”
The application of the fable is obvious. Too many prejudiced Christians have been the sculptors of the non-Christian faiths and too many prejudiced non-Christians have essayed to carve the features of Christianity. Lamentable failures have been scored on both sides.
Lastly, there came that mammoth convention at Chicago in 1893, the World’s Parliament of Religions, an epoch-making assembly for which we should still be waiting had not the revelations of comparative religion been in some measure made known and had not “the sacred books of the East” been already discovered and translated into the leading languages of the world. Who that was privileged to see it can ever forget the magnificent spectacle of the procession of the world’s great faiths! In the forefront walked Charles C. Bonney, a Swedenborgian layman, arm in arm with Cardinal Gibbons, the then highest dignitary [ p. 58 ] of the Roman Catholic Church in this country. Behind them walked Christian clergyman and Jewish rabbi, Confucian moralist and Greek Church bishop. Mohammedan teacher and Buddhist monk, Baptist missionary and Hindu seer—one hundred and twentyeight pairs in a triumphal procession of brotherhood! Would that some painter had been present to put on canvas that memorable scene, symbolic of the death knell of sectarian exclusiveness, prophetic of the coming peace among the conflicting faiths of mankind. And yet, at the sessions of the Parliament it was made plain that the ideal of religious relationship was still far from understood. For, one after another of the representatives of the various religions claimed that his particular variety of religion had in it that which warranted the expectation of its eventual absorption of all the rest. Not a word did any delegate say of world-unity in religion except as conceived in terms of the ultimate triumph of his own religion over all other religions. The fervent Buddhist pictured the universal sway of [ p. 59 ] Gautama’s gospel. The enthusiastic Mohammedan made a like claim for the certain victory of Islamism. The eloquent, astute rabbi astounded his hearers by his presentation of Judaism in terms of universal religion, while the devout, mj^stic Christian prayed “for the redemption of the world through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.” But the fact that the selfsame claim was made by each for his own faith made the claim itself ridiculous. Each of these distinguished men wished to encourage himself with his followers that their religion is sure to be universal, that the flowing tide is with them, but what a cold douche that facile optimism receives when we observe that their claims are mutually contradictory!
What, then, is the corrective for this narrow, nefarious, provincial, chauvinistic sectarianism, analogous to the nationalism that has been on the increase during the past fifty years? There are those who advocate a return to the religious cosmopolitanism exemplified by the Free Religious Association of America, just as there are those who would [ p. 60 ] remedy the deplorable species of nationalism that prevails by a return to the cosmopolitanism of Goethe and Schiller, of Addison and Goldsmith, of Rousseau and D’Alembert, and of Thomas Paine, who said, “the world is my country,” and stoutly refused to ally himself with any one nation exclusively. But no, the real remedy both in the political and in the religious realm is to be sought in the recognition of and respect for differing religious types as for differing national types. Too long have we dwelt on the resemblances, the elements common to all religions. It is time we took account of the differences which comparative religion reveals no less than the likenesses. For, is not the life of a religion in those very features which differentiate it from its neighbors? The life of Christianity, for instance, is surely in the Sonship of Jesus Christ. Eliminate that, ignore that, and the very essence of the Christian religion will be forfeited because it is the specific doctrine that characterizes Christianity, without which it would cease to be Christian. Mutual tolerance is undoubtedly [ p. 61 ] to be admired, mutual affection despite differences is more admirable still, but no appreciation is worthy of the name that involves indifference to differences that touch vital ideas; rather must such an attitude be regarded as an index of spiritual lassitude. Nay more, the sole cure for the evil of sectarianism lies in a frank acknowledgment of differences and a genuine, deep-seated desire to respect them, such respect the sine qua non of interreligious fellowship and cooperation.
In our political thinking we have reached the point where we see what a despicable simile is the melting pot as descriptive of America, for we know that each of the nations represented in our heterogeneous population has some excellence peculiarly its own and this we would fain incorporate into the making of the American ideal. Therefore, instead of likening America to a melting pot in which all the fine and precious characteristics of the various national types among us are to be obliterated and lost, I would compare America to a crown studded with precious [ p. 62 ] jewels, each gem the contribution of one or • another of the many nationalities that make up our American commonwealth. In our political thinking we have readied the point where we see that the life of every nation is of inestimable worth and that, just as the individuality of every single person must be respected and preserved if we are to have an ideal social state, so that which is fine and distinctive in each of the various national types must be respected and preserved if we are to have a true internationalism. Similarly, in our religious thinking we must reach the point where we see that real unity can be attained not by obliterating unlikenesses but by adopting the conception of mutual religious interrelationship, seeing the unique excellence which each of the religions has to contribute to the enhancement of all the rest and receiving in return their manifold contributions toward the enrichment of its own gospel.
We rejoice to realize that as a result of the revelations of comparative religion Christian missionary enterprise in the Orient is more [ p. 63 ] and more abandoning its original practice of insisting that the non-Christian residents there are forever “lost” unless they accept the Christian scheme of salvation. At the annual meeting of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, held in Boston in 1894 (the year following the World’s Parliament of Religions), the question was raised, “Shall missionaries be allowed to go to Japan, China, India, and other Oriental countries unless they are prepared to teach the doctrines of hell and the fall of man?” But the question was promptly laid on the table; it has never been taken up since and we are safe in believing it never will be.
Just how long the nails of sectarian warfare will continue to be driven into the hands and feet of humanity no one at this time can tell. But out of the crucifixion will come a transfiguration, yea, out of the very throes of present-day controversy and schism a new conception of brotherhood will emerge, based on respect for differing types of faith, even as out of the throes of the Great World War [ p. 64 ] a new conception of justice will be brought to birth, based on respect for differing national types.
Just as fast as men and women everywhere grow to care more for spiritual freedom than for allegiance to tradition and creed while profoundly reverencing both; just as fast as men and women everywhere learn to care more for the triumph of truth than they care for the triumph of their sect, so fast will the world be prepared for that ideal religious fellowship that has been the dream of every age and of every race.