[ p. 250 ]
REPEATEDLY in the course of our reflections we have come upon the problem of the relation of the temporal and the cternal, and it is now necessary that we should say something explicitly on this subject. From the standpoint of metaphysics it is obviously fundamental, and some excuse may seem to be required for postponing it until the end of our inquiry. Discussions of the Christian doctrine of God on the lines of the traditional philosophical theology begin, quite naturally, with an analysis of the concepts of infinity and eternity; but we have chosen another method, that of interpreting the Christian experience of God, and hence it is appropriate that the purely metaphysical questions should present themselves at the conclusion rather than at the beginning. Theology, we may suggest, should, like other sciences, get on without metaphysics as long as it can, even though in the end it must try to come to terms with ultimate philosophical concepts. I will say at once that I cannot pretend to have any solution of the difficulties which the subject presents. To make such a claim would indeed be an overweening presumption, since it is admitted that in the problem of time we have one of the central enigmas of philosophy. The problem has become more prominent than ever before in recent discussion, so that Mr. Alexander can say, with only a touch of exaggeration, that we have in current philosophy “ discovered time ”.
[ p. 251 ]
The problem of time is one which haunts every philosophy. This fact is worth dwelling on, because the assumption is sometimes made that time forms a special difficulty for theology. Those who are unversed in the history of thought encounter apparent contradictions in the doctrine of God, which are connected with His relation to the world in time, and they assume that these contradictions arise from the conception of God and would vanish if that conception were given up, whereas the same perplexities break out, in a somewhat different form, whatever view of the universe we may choose to adopt. There could perhaps be no better illustration of this than a consideration of the scientific Realism which is widely held by philosophers at the present day. A system of thought which aims at understanding how nature can be an object of knowledge is obviously far removed from any contamination by mysticism ; but, as we saw when we were discussing the transcendent element in every possible interpretation of experience, the scientific Realist cannot dispense with “universals”. Without universals there can be no knowledge. The modern Realist is compelled to recognize that the universals, as such, do not exist in time, though they are exemplified in temporal events. As we know, Plato drew from this the conclusion that the universals—the Ideas—were real and eternal, while time was simply the “ moving image of eternity”. Not all modern Realists would go as far as Whitohead in his agreement with Plato; but they have all to deal with the same problem—how are we to conceive the relation between that which is not “in time” and that which is passing and changing ? It cannot bo said that they have solved this problem. Too often it seems to the outsider that they evade it by the invention of new terms, We are told, for example, that universals [ p. 252 ] «subsist ” and that things and events exist or happen ; but we may wonder whether this is illuminating. We have added a possibly useful word to the vocabulary of philosophy, but the question remains, how that which is independent of time manifests itself in time. Only a philosophy which is willing to give up the idea of truth except in a pragmatist sense can avoid the issue of the temporal and eternal.
We could not, however, admit that even a Pragmatist has nothing to do with the idea of the eternal and the timeless. For even if we hold that true ideas are simply those that “ work ”, it is obvious that the ideas of eternal truth and of everlasting peace have “worked” in the experience of many human beings, and we must at least try to find a “working” hypothesis which will allow such persons to hold the idea of eternity along with other ideas which also are serviceable for life.
It is a matter of course that the two obvious methods of avoiding the problem of time and eternity should have been tried. On the one hand, it has been denied that the temporal is real, and on the other hand it has been alleged that “duration ” is the sole reality. The type of thought which refuses all reality to time and change is represented, in its extreme form, by the pantheistic theology which lies behind much Indian religion. Time and change and all finite existence are, in this system, simply Maya, illusion. Some absolute Idealists in Western philosophy have adopted a view which is not dissimilar. It would not be accurate to say that Mr. Bradley and Mr. Bosanquet regard time and temporal events as merely Maya, but certainly in their philosophy time and events are not ultimately real or true—they are appearances of the timeless Absolute. The philosophy of Bergson stands at the opposite extreme. For him durée [ p. 253 ] is the reality, whereas the eternal, changeless, and static are figments of the intellect.
This is not the place to discuss these rival positions ; ut we are concerned to note the unfortunate consequences which would follow from the acceptance of either. Any denial of the reality of time and change, any doctrine that they are only appearances of an unchanging and timeless Absolute, must have some at least of the results which William James deplored in his criticism of the “ block universe”. In such a world there can be no real freedom for the finite selves, and hence no real struggle, defeat, or victory. If everything is an appearance of a perfect Absolute we find ourselves in the somewhat ridiculous position of fighting battles which are already won and striving to improve a world which is already perfect. If the consequences of this view could be realized in the imagination, it would deprive history and personal life of all interest. The view, however, that “duration ” is the sole reality and that all is change leads to conclusions even more distasteful. If there are no universals which transcend the time-process, if all is flux and nothing stands, we can have no knowledge of reality—a conclusion which Bergson himself draws when he maintains that we grasp the real not by intellect but by intuition. In the same way, it would be difficult, on this view, to justify absolute moral judgments. There could be no absolute value and no permanent principles of good.
The religious consciousness is vitally interested in holding together the temporal and the eternal; and in the doctrine of God the problem presents itself to us in its starkest form. For religion the problem is more concrete, and perhaps on that account more tractable. The eternity of God which religion must maintain is not identical with the eternity of abstract universals. The [ p. 254 ] need for the Eternal rises out of the heart of the religious consciousness. The soul seeks to rest in a God who is not subject to change : it desires to find One in whom there can be “no shadow cast by turning”.[1] Unless we can be. assured of this, we cannot hold the attitude of trustfulness towards Reality, or the faith that it is on the side of our deepest intuitions of value. A Deity who might change in character and purpose would be no God in whom we could find rest, nor could we be confident that “ underneath are the everlasting arms”[2] if we entertained the suspicion that the Creator and Sustainer of the world was subject to mutability. But we must repeat that the immutability which the religious mind seeks, and on which it reposes in trust, is not equivalent to a merely abstract and logical changelessness, the mere formal opposite and negation of change. Religion has no knowledge of any God who is not the living God and could find no satisfaction in the thought of a changeless Reality which was dead. The needs of the religious consciousness are met if it can be certified that it has to do with One whose nature and purposes cannot alter, and who remains always consistent with Himself.
We can see, therefore, that the religious affirmation of the immutability of God is not equivalent to an assertion of His absolute timelessness. It is consistent with a belief in the reality of change within the divine Experience, and does not require the idea that the ground of the Universe is a frozen immobility. In our human experience we have acquaintance with purposes which remain unaltered through many vicissitudes, and which realize themselves through many various subordinate acts of will; and we know characters on which we confidently rely, though they may be required to adapt themselves [ p. 255 ] to diverse circumstances, The immutability of God, as religion conceives it, is more like the steadfastness of a good man than the unalterable properties of a triangle.
The religious consciousness is no less concerned to hold that events, succession, and “time” are not illusory, and hence to hold that they have meaning and reality for God. Any doctrine of God which implied that He was * beyond time”, in the sense that temporal events had no place in His experience, would be as fatal to religion as the doctrine of the Absolute which we have already rejected. It would mean that our efforts and aspirations, our victories and defeats, our purposes and hopes, had no significance for God and meant, in the last resort, nothing to Him. The Christian conception of God can certainly not be represented as that of a Being who is “ timeless” in this meaning of the word. The Christian gospel is irrevocably an historical religion, and finds its supreme revelation of God in events and in a personal life which are part of the history of the world.
II
The problem of the relation of time and eternity seems to be insoluble largely because we do not know the precise meaning of either term. The word “eternal” is used with extraordinary looseness, and frequently has no very definite significance in the minds of those who employ it. Within this vague penumbra of meaning, however, we may distinguish several allied but distinct ideas. As we have seen, the word “ eternal” may be used to denote the “ timeless ” entities or “ subsistents” which appear to be non-temporal in their nature. But the same word is not seldom synonymous with “unending”, and is then interchangeable with “everlasting”. Thus the fact [ p. 256 ] that we cannot conceive a conclusion of time is said to suggest the “eternity” of creation.
There is another more positive meaning, which has been of great importance in the discussion of the nature of God—simultaneity. It is frequently held that the divine Experience differs from our experience in that it contains no succession of presentations but, on the contrary, possesses all its wealth in one “eternal now”. Thus the thoughts of God do not succeed one another but constitute a perfect whole, which is apprehended in one.act of intellection. Baron yon Hiigel has made impressive use of this idea in his treatment of the mystical experience, which, in his opinion, has as one of its motives the desire to rise above successiveness to a “simultaneity” which is akin to the divine Thought.[3] The conception of absolute simultaneity is extraordinarily difficult, and, if pressed to its logical conclusion, might lead to the view that the temporal process, as such, has no meaning for God, a view which we have already rejected. On the other hand, we must attribute at least this degree of simultaneity to the divine Experience : it is not in any way at the mercy of succession. In this, on any view, it must differ from the human experience at its fullest. God is always the master of the events which enter into His life; the resources of His nature are adequate to every change, and there ean be no vicissitude through which He cannot realize His will.
It might appear that, since all our thinking and experience is temporally conditioned, we should have a clear idea of the nature of time, even though the meaning of the eternal might remain obscure. But this is far from being true, and we have to recognize that our temporal experience does not disclose to us what time is. It is of [ p. 257 ] the greatest importance to make clear to ourselves a distinction which it has been one of the achievements of modern philosophy to draw—that between time as experienced and “conceptual time”. We have become accustomed to the idea that the time which is measured by clocks, the time in which we suppose that we are, is something of which we have direct experience, and something which exists quite independent of us. Until comparatively recent days science agreed with commonsense in this prejudice. In the Newtonian physics absolute time and space were taken for granted as the framework within which events happened. In some way this framework was thought of as prior to the events. The characteristic feature of time, its “ essence ”, was, on this view, that it flowed on at an even pace without cessation and without end. In the spirit of this conception was the strange idea that time not only existed apart from events, but was even capable of exercising some influence upon them. “Time, like an ever-flowing stream, bears all its sons away.” But a little reflection shows that time cannot have any existence apart from events, and that it is just as true to say that time is in events as that events are in time. What is it that “ flows ” if nothing happens ? The conception of an absolutely “empty” time is a contradiction.
A little further reflection shows that this “ conceptual time ” is not a possible object of experience at all. We arrive at the idea of it by a process of intellectual construction, which is based upon real and unquestionable data. What we actually experience is the succession of states or events, primarily within our consciousness, the source of which, in some cases, we think to be outside ourselves. All our experience is characterized by the feeling of “now”, “then”, and “not yet”. This primary [ p. 258 ] datum of our living mental activity is the ground on which we build our concept of time. We may notice that it is first of all a “private ” affair, lived and known by the individual consciousness.
But this “time” of our direct experience does not possess that quality of even flow which is the essence of conceptual time. Our lives move swiftly or sluggishly, time creeps or gallops with us. The invention of conceptual time seems to be necessitated by our position as social beings. If time were purely “ private”, and there were no co-ordination between the duration experience of one individual and that of another, co-operation between the individuals would be impossible. For social life we need “ public” time. The evenly-flowing time which is measured by clocks is a device to integrate the activity of a multitude of persons. It does not, of course, follow from this that conceptual time is a mere figment which has no relation with reality. Indeed the fact that we are able to co-operate seems to indicate that the successions which we experience are not merely “ private”, or at least are not all private. One conclusion, however, does seem to follow from all this—that the idea of an absolute time is not one which is “ given ”. It may be that this construction of the intellect, useful and necessary as it is, has been extended illegitimately to include all events. There is nothing self-contradictory or absurd in the suggestion that some beings or activities may not be “in time ”, if by that we mean the absolute time of the older physics.
It is well known that recent physics has had great difficulty with the concept of time. The theory of relativity has thrown serious doubt on the absoluteness of both space and time. But perhaps of greater interest are the problems which are raised by research into the [ p. 259 ] structure of the atom. The discontinuity, as it appears, of some atomic action has led to the suggestion that it may not take place in what we call space and time.[4] The only sure result of these considerations is that the idea of “absolute time” is necessary for practical Purposes and is justified so far as it “ works”, whether in ordinary life or in science, but it now appears to be less universally applicable than had formerly been supposed.
On the other hand, there is an undeniable core of reality in time—the successiveness of our experience. For me, at any rate, “now”, “ then”, and “ not yet” are significant terms. But we may go a step further and observe in what aspect of my experience these terms become significant. The psychology of time is still in a confused state, and it would be absurd to dogmatize on the nature of the most rudimentary perceptions of time; but it is certain that time comes to be important for us, and assumes a central place in our thought; in so far as we have purposes. In conation and will I encounter time as a necessary factor. For a being entirely devoid of will time would have no importance, and perhaps even no meaning. The past is that which the will cannot alter, the future is the possible realization of purposes, the present is the
possession of purposes, which come out of the past and look towards the future. Of course, our perception of time
involves memory, but this too probably has a direct dependence on the purposive and conative side of our life, for we remember with a purpose. There is then truth in the dictum that “ time is the form of the will” and in the statement that “ the innermost meaning of time is the inalienable difference between what is and what ought to be.”[5] At least we may say that because I am a purposive [ p. 260 ] being I recognize the reality of time, and because I am a purposive being I must, in some sense, be “in time”.
But this cannot be the whole truth about me. To say that I am “in time ” without qualification may mean one of two things : first it may mean that I am an event or a series of events within absolute time. But we have already criticised the conception of absolute time. Or, secondly, it may mean that I am nothing more than my successive states of consciousness. This idea we rejected when we were discussing personality and need not repeat what was then said. We saw reason for preferring the phrase the self has states of consciousness. But it is important to remember another truth about personality, which we tried to bring out in that discussion. The person does not exist, and, as we argued, could not exist, apart from its successive experiences. Though it is not simply identical with its activities and perceptions, it has no being apart from them. It is in them and exists through them. Thus in considering human personality, there seems to be a necessity to think together the “temporal” and the “eternal”, or at any rate the successive and that which is not successive.
A. distinction has often been drawn between the “noumenal” or “real” self and the “empirical” or temporal self, and it is sometimes held that the former is somehow complete apart from the empirical self, which is an “appearance”. This, I suppose, is the opinion of Dr. McTaggart.[6] The conclusion which we are advocating differs from that theory. We have not argued that succession is unreal or that it is no essential element in personal experience. For us the self is rather the whole which is formed by the super-temporal subject and its successive experiences. Thus both the statements, “ time [ p. 261 ] is in us”, and “we are in timo” are true; but neither is true by itself. The self which may bo called “ supertemporal” has no existence apart from the temporal succession of its experience, and the temporal suecession is unthinkable apart from the “ super-temporal ” ego.[7]
The conclusion to which we have been led is not simple. The problem of our own nature is beyond our penetration, and we are brought to face the mystery of Being most of all when we attempt to understand ourselves. If we are unable to unravel with precision our own relation with time we need not be astonished that God’s relation with time presents insoluble problems. Let us, however, continue to tread resolutely the path of the “higher anthropomorphism ” which we have followed hitherto. If we are right, our relation with time will be the best guide that we have to any understanding of God and time.
We may begin by stating that God cannot be “in time”, if we mean by that phrase that His whole Being is subject to succession and change. As we have seen, there is doubt whether this assertion could be made even of human personality. God, we must suppose, in His being unites the eternal and the successive in a manner which is hinted at by our own personal life. We are therefore justified on more than one ground in believing that God is not “timeless”. To argue that succession does not in any way enter into the divine Experience would be equivalent to a denial of the divine Personality. Though [ p. 262 ] God does not consist of a succession of states, and it would be impossible to predicate of Him an experience developing towards maturity, succession must be real for Him. And hence it would seem “not yet” must have some meaning for God, though we cannot, of course, understand precisely what meaning. If God were absolutely timeless, the conception of the divine Will would be meaningless. We must hold fast, therefore, to the conviction that succession is real for God, and His immutability must be interpreted in moral and spiritual rather than logical terms : it is that of permanent purpose and unchanging character. Any other view, I am persuaded, must logically end in the conclusion that the sphere of history and human endeavour are illusory—a position which is intolerable for Christian faith.
The experience of change which enters into the divine Life must obviously be that of the changes of the created order, and it is in the sphere of creation that God’s purposiveness is exercised. Our discussion of creation attempted to show that the ultimate dependence of all things upon God is not necessarily in contradiction with the real freedom and self-determination of some finite and created beings, and that, though we cannot see in detail how ultimate dependence and relative independence are reconciled, we can see that they are not irreconcilable. Our doctrine of creation insists upon the existence of “free causes”. We must apply the results of that discussion to our present problem. The created order includes some beings with limited spontaneity and others in whom spontaneity has become freedom. If then some part of the purpose of creation is the “creation of creators”, we must conclude that the succession which enters into the experience of God is not, in every detail, directly willed by Him. He wills that there should be [ p. 263 ] a created order and that, within this order, there should be “free causes” ; thus the order and the existence of the free causes depend directly upon the divine Will, but the manner in which that bestowed freedom is exercised may be contrary to the will of God, even though the possibility that it should be so exercised depends constantly upon His will.
The doctrine that there is a super-temporal element in every human person suggests a speculation which we must briefly notice. It seems to be an obvious simplifieation to go on to argue that there is only one Subject in all created instances of self-hood—that, in theological terms, God is the universal Subject, the super-temporal Ego in every self. The philosophies of Kant and T. H. Green both include a doctrine of the “ noumenal” self, which is not “in time ” ; but neither of these thinkers has made it clear whether the noumenal self is singular or plural. Fichto and Gentile have out the knot by maintaining that there is only one transcendent Ego or Subject. We must explicitly and steadfastly refuse to adopt this tempting simplification, both on the ground of the Christian experience of God and on more general grounds of experience. We have more than once insisted that the Christian faith in God implies an ultimate and insurmountable distinction between the Creator and the created. Unless this be held fast the whole structure of Christian life and worship lies in ruins. Hence as Christian theologians, we must maintain that, though there is an element: in human personality which is not in time, it is still created and not identical with God. But this conclusion can be supported also on general grounds. The plurality of centres of consciousness and of selves is surely one of the few facts about the world of which we are assured with a surety which cannot be shaken by dialectic; and [ p. 264 ] perhaps we may add that most of us are reasonably certain that we are not God.
The caution which we have suggested with regard to speculations tending to abolish the distinction between Creator and creature need not, however, stand in the way of our reflection upon the relation of the human ego to God, and particularly upon that relation which is included under the term “grace”. We may justly represent to ourselves that the self in its “ noumenal” aspect must, in some way, be more immediately in contact with God than in its empirical and temporal aspect ; and hence it would seem obvious to suppose that the possibility of the influx of supernatural grace is connected with the fact that the human spirit has root in the unseen and eternal. We may go further and find here the theoretical justification for the belief, common to mystics and other persons of first-hand devotional life, that they enjoy immediate knowledge of and communion with God: that His presence is not only a well-founded inference but an experienced fact. But though these beliefs are consistent with our own and seem to follow from it, they do not conflict with the distinction upon which we are here insisting. God dwells in the soul by grace, and not by metaphysical necessity.
III
These reflections, dim and inclusive as they are, may have some valuo when we consider the nature of Divine Providence. Probably thero is no department of Christian doctrine where the inconveniences of an incoherent conception of the nature of God are more plainly demonstrated and have more effect on practical life. Even the plainest Christian man must sometimes have been perplexed [ p. 265 ] when he seems to be bidden to regard all the events of his own life, and all the course of history, as the will of God and providentially ordered, while he is no less urgently exhorted to remember that he has disobeyed the divine will and frustrated the purpose of God, and is moreover a member of a rebellious race. The legitimate anxiety of Christian teachers to maintain the supremacy of God without compromise and the absolute dependenco upon Him of all created being has found an ally in the logical conceptions of infinity and eternity ; and on this dual basis has been erected a conception of Providence which seems to conflict with other important elements in the Christian view of God and man.
In our survey of the New 'Tostament experience of God, we briefly noticed that some sayings of Jesus, which have been taken to indicate a belief in an absolute providential order such that every event is directly willed by God, need not, in fact, have this implication ; while there are other words which seem to have a directly opposite intention. It is true that St. Paul’s Rabbinical heritage and his polemic against the idea of human “ merit” inclined him to a more drastic statement of the doctrine of Providence, and it cannot be denied that belief in an absolute providential ordering of events and thorough-going predestination can find support in the Apostle’s writings. But, in spite of phrases which may be so interpreted, it cannot be admitted that the settled view of St. Paul is that of complete theological determinism. Indeed this theory would make nonsense of his general religious and moral position. He allows the real freedom of the self to accept or refuse the grace of God; and even his interpretation of the significance of the rejection of Israel is really more in harmony with the conception of an overruling than with [ p. 266 ] that of a completely determining Providence.[8] Probably St. Paul had not thought out a coherent theory of Providence, but gave expression to both sides of the religious paradox, with characteristic vehemence, as occasion required. We have constantly to remind ourselves that the Apostles were not professors of theology. With Augustine the full doctrine of Providence enters into Christian thought; and since his day the prev: teaching of Christian theologians, though not of Christian preachers, has been that all events are, not only foreknown, but predetermined by God.
The question is one of far more than merely theoretical interest. It is of great practical moment ; for upon our answer to it will depend our conception of the characteristic quality of the truly Christian life. If we accept the view that there is an inviolable and inevitable providential order we must surely draw the conclusion that “all is given”; though we shall add itis given by the good hand of God. The most fitting attitude for the devout soul will then be that of resignation and acceptance. Doubtless, as history abundantly shows, this resignation may be combined with vigorous activity ; but it isnot compatible with the belief that, in the end, anything depends upon my choice or act, or with the spirit of adventure. On the other hand, if we reject the idea of an absolutely closed providential order, we may hold that the proper attitude of the Christian towards life is that of eagerness to co-operate with the divine Will, the determination that our part shall be fulfilled. We need not repeat here what has been said in connection with the problem of evil, but we must bear in mind the very intimate relation between that problem and any doctrine of Providence. Such light as we were able to find upon that dark question [ p. 267 ] of sin and suffering would be grievously dimmed, if not extinguished, if we were compelled to hold that every event was completely determined by a pre-established plan.
It need scarcely be said that the conclusion which follows from our discussion of the nature of God and His relation with creation is against any doctrine of absolute Providence. And we may notice that the support which theological determinism has formerly seemed to obtain from natural science is not now forthcoming. Until recently it was taken for granted that science must assume the thorough-going determination of all events, in such a way that, theoretically, given a full knowledge of the relevant conditions, any event could be predicted. Few physicists would now be willing to make this assertion ; and it seems that the determinism of science is only a “ methodological postulate”, which in fact breaks down when we are concerned with atomic action. Professor S.C. Thompson points out that one of the general results of the study of the constitution of matter has been to swing science away from the determinist assumption.[9] Theological determinism can no longer claim to be more in harmony with the philosophy of nature than an alternative view. According to the thesis which has been presented in this study, the creation has as its object, or as part of its object, the development of self-determining persons ; and the created world, therefore, includes within it “free causes”. We must urgo that the Creator has taken the full consequences of this creative act.
Dr. Tennant concludes his valuable work on Philosophical Theology with the phrase, “an adventure of love”.[10] We may adopt this in its full meaning. The creation has involved what may be called risk, and, as [ p. 268 ] we have argued, redemptive suffering is an element in the divine Experience. The quality of courage is not perhaps, after all, so remote as we thought from any conception of God which we can form. We can see that courage might have a real meaning for God—the sustaining of the “ adventure of love ” through all the wanderings and rebellions of the creatures.
We must not allow ourselves, however, to be intimidated by the dilemma: cither absolute Providence, or no Providence. We may still maintain a providential government which meets all the genuine demands of the religious consciousness, As we saw in the last chapter, the existence of free causes, and even of rebellion within the created world, does not overthrow the belief in an overruling divine Purpose. From no point of view could we maintain that the freedom is unlimited or that the rebellion is able to disrupt the whole structure of the creation. From the standpoint of the belief in God we may interpret this as meaning that the rebellion of “ free causes ” cannot totally frustrate and bring to naught the counsel of God. The manifold wisdom (πολυποίκιλος σοφία) of God is manifested most signally through the turning of rebellion itself into a means of the furtherance of the divine Purpose.[11] Though I think we could not assent to the full implication of the familiar lines, “ O felix culpa quae tantum et talem meruit habere Redemptorem ”,[12] there is a truth in them which can be understood by anyone who out of weakness has been made strong. Ho would shrink, and rightly, from saying “felix culpa”, but he would thankfully acknowledge that the sin and weakness, overcome through the grace of God, have become a part of a good which could not have been exactly as it is without them; and we can [ p. 269 ] agree with Mr. Shebbeare that “ the world would not be the richer, but the poorer, without its Calvarys and Gethsemanes ”, if we may understand by “the world” “ our world”.[13]
The general Providence of God is to be found most clearly where the Prophets found it—in the course of history. Christian Theism must be unalterably opposed to every theory which “explains” historical development by causes which are less than spiritual, The “ economic ” interpretation, though legitimate and useful as a statement of one aspect of the whole process, when elevated into a complete account becomes a ludicrous abstraction. The significance of history lies primarily in its being a process in which social, moral and spiritual values are realized. But the providential order will be almost equally misinterpreted if history is regarded as akin to the unrolling of a cinematograph film which has been prepared beforehand and the same criticism will apply to the view that history is a kind of impersonal process, even though that process be described, as by Croce, as the life of immanent Spirit. History is made by persons who are, within limits, “free causes”. The emergence of “homo sapiens” from the brutal condition of the anthropoid; the beginning of primitive culture ; the passage from savagery to the ordered life of the city; the slow development of political freedom and ideals of fellowship; are, for the Theist, revelations of the purpose of God.
It cannot be questioned that the general course of history is perfectly harmonious with a belief in a superintending Providence. The failure of empires and nations to carry the cause of social and moral progress beyond a certain point, and their decay and disappearance, looks like the [ p. 270 ] expression of a constant purpose, which is partially frustrated by human failure to respond to opportunity, and begins, unhasting but unceasing, to work towards its goal with other instruments. At the present day the ideal of a concourse of nations to eliminate war from human life, which had made sporadic appearances in the past, has taken shape in concrete form. Hitherto it has been prevented from becoming a reality by the stupidity and narrow interests of the men who might have helped it forward. If the Great War should give birth to an international organization, based on the consent of all civilized peoples, which hereafter may assume positive leadership in the affairs of the human race as a whole, we shall have the most impressive instance of the overruling of a great disaster for the ultimate good and progress of the world. But this overruling, we must observe, will take place not, as an inevitable event, but by the provision of opportunities which may be muddled or refused.
The instinctive tendency to find striking examples of providential interference in the great catastrophes of history is not wholly wrong, and it is indeed difficult to resist the impression that even natural convulsions have sometimes had a providential character. The point of view, however, in this matter makes all the difference ; for the storm which dispersed the Armada, which was to English patriots a manifest dispensation of God, to the Romanists of Europe appeared as a part of the problem of evil. We are on safer ground when we consider the catastrophes of history. The great debacles, which bring down venerable systems and mark the end of epochs, are not mere accidents. They have many concurrent immediate causes, economic, social, political, and even geographical; but it is a true insight, which has seen in them the terrible judgment of God. For the ultimate causes are moral and spiritual, and the great crashes of history [ p. 271 ] are the outcome of failure to rise to new conditions and to maintain the ancient vigour by fresh adaptations. “The things which aro shaken” aro removed when they have reached an intolerable degree of rottenness.[14]
But here again we should beware of placing too narrowly moralistic an interpretation on the facts. Well-meaning persons have sometimes contributed as much to the tragedies of history as the wicked. The judgment is upon human stupidity hardly less than on human perversity. But we can regard the great downfalls in human history as vindications of the moral Will and Reason which is within human life ; and this truth is not affected by the truth that often the highest individual virtue may be on the side which is defeated. The cynical remark that God is on the side of the big battalions is singularly untrue when judged by the evidence of history. The big battalions have generally been on the side which has gone down, and the turning-points of the human story have rather illustrated the principle that God has chosen the weak things of the earth to confound the strong.[15] In general, then, we may conclude that, though we cannot hold every turn of history to have ben preordained in some divine plan of campaign, yet the general trend of human affairs is a revelation of the Providence of God.
The crises of history have produced great individuals, who have profoundly affected its future development. The historical process is not like a stream, which consists of a homogeneous substance determined in its course by external conditions. No research into general causes and factors can eliminate the decisive action of great personalities, who cannot be explained completely by the circumstances of their time. Only an heroic adhesion to a preconceived thesis could seriously maintain that the world has not been radically modified by the personal [ p. 272 ] character of such men as Luther and Napoleon I. Had they not been born, the whole subsequent condition of civilization would have been different. The mystery which must always attend the coming of genius has given ground for the belief that great leaders are raised up by the Providence of God. The men themselves have felt this; and no small part of their power has been derived from the conviction that they were in some way “called” to fulfil a definite and unique function. The root of this conviction is the perception of their own powers, and of the adaptation of these powers to the needs of the crisis. When this conviction is well founded, what might seem in others to be overweening self-confidence appears to be a necessary virtue. The creative genius in human affairs knows himself to be a “man of destiny” or a “ man of Providence ”.
There is perhaps a difference between the two types of great historical personage which we have indicated by these phrases. Not every man of destiny is a man of Providence. The crisis and the individual meet; but the question is still to be decided, how the individual will deal with the crisis. Nothing probably can prevent him from being a man of destiny. His actions will be decisive. But they may be inspired by no really constructive ideal; they may be actuated by some empty impulse for glory, or some irrational motive of a merely personal kind. In that case, the main effects of the activity of the great man will be destructive. Like Napoleon, he may sweep over an outworn social and political order as a cleansing wind ; and though at his passing “kings creep out again to feel the sun ”,[16] they are not the same kings, nor can the world ever return to what it was before. Yet the constructive consequences of the career of such a man are indirect, They have no relation to what he willed. The man of [ p. 273 ] Providence, on the contrary, has seen some vision, fragmentary and imperfect though it be, of the divine Purpose. He is seeking no individual good or glory, but the coming of the Kingdom of God. The precise vision, as he has seen it, never comes to pass, and he builds always both better and worse than he knew; but the truly creative persons of history are those who have served an ideal which was super-individual. The men of Providence are the men of destiny who have risen to the height of their opportunity. The Providence of God works through the understanding and will of those who are raised up for the hour of crisis.
Plainly the distinction which we make between great historical persons and other men, though useful and real
. from one point of view, is from a more general standpoint
only relative. The mass of mankind is composed of individual men, each one with his crises and his opportunities. Each one of us, therefore, is in some manner a man of destiny, and may become a man of Providence. For us, as for the great men, the test is the acceptance or rejection of opportunity, whether wo shall discern the values involved in our situation and steadily pursue them. There is, therefore, no final difference between general Providence and particular Providence. The “special providences” which relate to individuals are the warp and woof of the web which is the general Providence of the world.
For the Christian, the central fact of history is the life, death, and resurrection of Christ, which is, moreover, that which gives all other history its true meaning and enables us to see it in its proper proportion. In the Incarnation we have the supreme instance of God’s providential guidance and a revelation of His providential Purpose. The advent of the Redeemer is “in the fullness of time”; and here, more than anywhere else, we might imagine [ p. 274 ] that the doctrine of an absolute Providence was suggested. But this interpretation of the predestined coming of the Redeemer is, in truth, not the one which most easily harmonizes with all the conditions. The coming of Christ as Saviour has meaning because He comes to a human world which needs redemption, that is, to one which is in rebellion and alienation, to one in which the Will of God is not done. That Jesus is the supreme example of the Man of Providence is not due solely to the fact that He comes in the fullness of time, as the person prepared for the opportunity ; it is equally because He responds to the demands of the crisis with perfect insight into the divine Will and complete devotion to its realization. And having become the Man of Providence above all others, he not only bears the sin of the world and obeys the Will of God, but reveals the Father’s purpose.
The Christian conception of Providence is an extension and application of the idea of the Kingdom of God. In this phrase Jesus summed up the values of human life when in right relation with God. The providential purpose of God in the world is the establishment of the Kingdom ; and the world discloses itself to us as a providential order when we s¢e it as the sphero in which the Kingdom can begin and can increase. Other purposes, which do not fall within the conception of the Kingdom, may be imagined as being worked out in creation, and we have in this discussion refused to commit ourselves to the opinion that there are no goods or values in creation except those which have some relation to human life; but so far as human beings are concerned, we must hold that the Providence of God secks, through all the turns of history, the coming in power of that Kingdom which began in the spirit of Jesus. The “natural man”, that is, the man in whom the Kingdom has not begun, even as a grain of mustard seed, cannot discern the providential order. [ p. 275 ] Only by faith can we apprehend the work of Providence in the events of history and our lives, for apart from faith we have not any real acquaintance with the values which are the purpose of the world.
Of the nature of that Kingdom we must not here speak at length. he central conception is that of the rule of God in the minds and wills of men, and of a divine Sovereignty which is exercised, not by power, but through the response of human spirits to the Love which is at the heart of creation. The Kingdom grows through the free surrender of the human self to the Personal Good, who is both the beginning and the end of Creation, its first Cause, and its final Goal. But though the Kingdom comes in the minds and wills of human individuals, and lives in the response of human persons, one by one, to the grace of God, it is no merely individual affair, transacted between the soul and God. The grace is mediated through fellowship with other persons and comes to the individual always as a member of a society. It issues in a new social relationship of communion with those who are children of God, in which the latent spiritual powers of all are called forth and exercised.
The Church is, before all others, the Providential Society, just as Christ is, before all others, the Providential Person. It cannot be identified with the Kingdom ; but it is the appointed instrument of the Kingdom, and ideally its life is the preparation and foretaste of the perfected life— the suburb of the urbs caclestis, The history of the Church is the standing instance of the providential govern ment of the world and the most impressive example of its nature. That history is chequered with disastrous failures and wonderful victories, with opportunities taken and missed. New truth has been denied and persecuted, the unity of the body has been shattered by self-seeking, ignorance, and worldly motives. But the Church itself has [ p. 276 ] not been destroyed. It seems to be possessed of unlimited powers of renewal, and to be presented always with new opportunities. Even now the course of events makes it possible to repair some of the errors of the past, to advance towards the unity of the Spirit, and the bond of peace, and to achieve a more united witness to the God and Father of the Lord Jesus Christ, for which the world, distracted by partial philosophies and unsatisfying ideals, is deeply in need. The Church, in the Providence of God, will never be allowed to rest until it becomes the joy of the whole earth and the manifest Bride of Christ.
But even a renovated and restored Church will not be the completed Kingdom of God, which is the fellowship of all rational spirits with God through Christ and, in Him, with one another. The full meaning of that perfected life and consummation of the creation we, who are still in via, cannot apprehend in any but abstract and general ideas : “eye hath not seen nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man”. For the purposes of divine Providence cannot find their full realization within the temporal process, and the end of history eannot be an historical event. However far we advance towards the ideal of brotherhood in human relations, and however deeply in the future we may be penetrated by a consciousness of the divine Presence in us and with us, the limitations of our present state preclude the unrestricted enjoyment of that twofold fellowship, apart from which we cannot be made perfect. The purposes of God run into the unseen. Here and now only an approximation to the ideal can be achieved ; but even here and now the presence of God, which we may know imperfectly and intermittently and the human fellowship in which we may join with others in loving service, are real, and they give to life a value and nobility which have the presage of immortality. They point beyond themselves to a fulfilment.
St.James I. 17. ↩︎
Deuteronomy XXIII. 27. ↩︎
F. von Hügel, Mystical Element of Religion, II., pp. 246 ff. ↩︎
N. Bohr, quoted by Gunn, Problem of Time, p. 398. ↩︎
Introduction to Philosophy, by W. Windelband, p. 359. ↩︎
Cf. his Nature of Existence and Studies in Hegelian Cosmology. ↩︎
It would be unwise to lay much stress on the provisional conceptions of physics which are rapidly developing, but the quotation from N. Bohr given above suggests an interesting speculation. Atomic faction, it seems, cannot be wholly explained as “in time”; and wo find at the centre of personality an activity which is probably “ supertemporal”. Atomic action is the ultimate basis of the physical world and personal activity of the spiritual. Perhaps then all activity is ultimately super-temporal. ↩︎
Romans IX. and XI. ↩︎
The Atom, pp. 239 ff. ↩︎
Philosophical Theology, Vol. II, p. 259. ↩︎
Ephesians III. 10, cf, H. Martensen, Christian Dogmatics, p. 114. ↩︎
Roman Missal, Office for Holy Saturday. ↩︎
Problems of Providence, p. 20. I gladly refer to this able book, which defends a view of Providence almost the opposite of that which is hore presented. ↩︎
Hebrews XII. 27. ↩︎
1 Corinthians I. 27. ↩︎
E. B. Browning, Crowned and Buried. ↩︎