Joy Power | Page 4

something
akin to itself, not in the realm of fleeting phenomena, but in the Eternal
Presence beyond." He argues by the analogy of evolution, which
always presupposes a real relation between the life and the environment
to which it adjusts itself, that this forth-reaching and unfolding of the
soul implies the everlasting reality of religion.
The argument is good. But the point which concerns us now is simply
this. The forth-reaching, questioning soul can never be satisfied if it
touches only a dead wall in the darkness, if its seeking meets with the
reply, "You do not know, and you never can know, and you must not
try to know." This is agnosticism. It is only another way of spelling
unhappiness.
"Since Christianity is not true," wrote Ernest Renan, "nothing interests
me, or appears worthy my attention." That is the logical result of losing
the knowledge of spiritual things,--a life without real interest, without
deep worth,--a life with a broken spring.

But suppose Renan is mistaken. Suppose Christianity is true. Then the
first thing that makes it precious, is that it answers our questions, and
tells us the things that we must know in order to be happy.
Christianity is a revealing religion, a teaching religion, a religion which
conveys to the inquiring spirit certain great and positive solutions of the
problems of life. It is not silent, nor ambiguous, nor incomprehensible
in its utterance. It replies to our questions with a knowledge which,
though limited, is definite and sufficient. It tells us that this "order of
nature, which constitutes the world's experience, is only one portion of
the total universe." That the ruler of both worlds, seen and unseen, is
God, a Spirit, and the Father of our spirits. That He is not distant from
us nor indifferent to us, but that He has given His eternal Son Jesus
Christ to be our Saviour. That His Spirit is ever present with us to help
us in our conflicts with evil, in our efforts toward goodness. That He is
making all things work together for good to those that love Him. That
through the sacrifice of Christ every one who will may obtain the
forgiveness of sins and everlasting peace. That through the resurrection
of Christ all who love Him and their fellow-men shall obtain the
victory over death and live forever.
Now these are doctrines. And it is just because Christianity contains
such doctrines that it satisfies the need of man.
"The first and the most essential condition of true happiness," writes
Professor Carl Hilty, the eminent Swiss jurist, "is a firm faith in the
moral order of the world. What is the happy life? It is a life of
conscious harmony with this Divine order of the world, a sense, that is
to say, of God's companionship. And wherein is the profoundest
unhappiness? It is in the sense of remoteness from God, issuing into
incurable restlessness of heart, and finally into incapacity to make one's
life fruitful or effective."
What shall we say, then, of the proposal to adapt Christianity to the
needs of the world to-day by eliminating or ignoring its characteristic
doctrines? You might as well propose to fit a ship for service by taking
out its compass and its charts and cutting off its rudder. Make
Christianity silent in regard to these great questions of spiritual

existence, and you destroy its power to satisfy the heart.
What would the life of Christ mean if these deep truths on which He
rested and from which He drew His strength, were uncertain or illusory?
It would be the most pathetic, mournful, heartbreaking of all phantoms.
What consoling, cheering power would be left in the words of Jesus if
His doctrine were blotted out and His precept left to stand alone? Try
the experiment, if it may be done without irreverence: read His familiar
discourses in the shadow of agnosticism.
'Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is a hopeless poverty. Blessed
are the pure in heart, for they know not whether they shall see God.
Blessed are ye when men shall revile you and persecute you, for ye
have no promise of a heavenly reward.
'Enter into thy closet and when thou hast shut the door, keep silence,
for thou canst not tell whether there is One to hear thy voice in secret.
Take no thought for the morrow, for thou knowest not whether there is
a Father who careth for thee.
'God is unknown, and they that worship Him must worship Him in
ignorance and doubt. No man hath ascended up into heaven, neither
hath any man come down from heaven, for the Son of Man hath never
been in heaven. That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which
is born of the