The endency among many today is to exalt religion and decry theology. By religion they mean a kind of nondoctrinal Christianity, an effort to lead a good life, but totally divorced from any stated dogma. "It is life that counts," they say, "not doctrine. It is not what you believe that is of value, but how you live. Paul gave us doctrine, not Christ. Christ's utterances, His sermon on the mount, His beautiful life lived in disregard of doctrine,—these are the real fundamentals of religion. To leave Christ and go back to Paul is in reality a repudiation of all that Christianity stands for."
This sounds pious and even plausible, and yet it is the very antithesis of Christianity. It is in this manner that Modernism has been working for years, destroying the foundations of all that is good and true, emasculating the precepts of God and the teachings of Christ, leaving a hollow shell from which all nutriment has been removed. May I illustrate?
Several years ago I spent some time in northern Minnesota doing missionary work. Having no particular appointment one Sunday, I announced that I would speak in a certain hall on the belief and work of Seventh-day Adventists. It was a small town in which there were no Adventists; and the people in general were not acquainted with our work. In the afternoon there were a goodly number present as I spoke of the work we were doing. Interest was manifested, and I announced that I would continue in the evening.
Immediately after this announcement a dignified gentleman arose in the audience, stating that he did not believe there would be room in such a small town for two meetings the same evening, that he was pastor of the church across the street, and was having a meeting that night. It seemed to him that all the people in town had come out to the meeting in the afternoon, and as he himself was quite interested in what had been said, and he believed the people were also, he would suggest that I speak in his church that night, and he gave me a hearty invitation to do so. I told him that as I had spoken of our work in the afternoon, I would speak of our belief at night, and it might be that neither he nor his people cared to hear about that. He assured me that this would make no difference with either him or his people, that I could speak freely, that they were all liberal and would listen respectfully to what I had to say.
So I accepted the invitation, and spoke that night to the best of my ability on the beliefs of Seventh-day Adventists. The pastor treated me most courteously, and so did the people. After the meeting the pastor invited me into his study, and we spent much of the night talking on religious problems. He told me that he was not the regular pastor of the church, that his home was in St. Paul, and that he was only up there for his health during the summer. He was indeed the pastor of one of the largest churches in the State, thoroughly modern and liberal, and also teacher in a theological seminary. He began by stating that he was somewhat perplexed about me. When I had spoken in the afternoon, it had appeared to him that I was somewhat intelligent, but now he knew I was not. "Why," he said, "no intelligent man believes what you said you believed tonight. Whoever heard of anyone with any intelligence, in this age of the world, who believes in the first chapter of Genesis?"
"Apparently you do not believe in it," I said.
"Why, no," he answered, "how can any intelligent man believe in it? And I don't think you believe in it either. You are too intelligent for that."
"What about the Old Testament? Do you believe in that?"
"I do not. How could I?"
"What about the New Testament?"
"Very good—many good things in it. But when it comes to Paul, I draw the line. He is the source of all our troubles. I abominate Paul."
"You abominate Paul?"
"Yes, I abominate Paul. He destroys all that Christ built up."
"What about Christ?"
"Good man, very good man. Of course, He had His faults, and He made His mistakes, but He was a very good man, very good indeed."
"Well, I must say that I am the one now who is a little perplexed. You say that you are a preacher and a teacher, and yet you believe in only a small part of the Bible; you abominate Paul, and even Christ could be improved. Do your people and your church know what you believe?"
"Oh, no," he answered quickly, "they would not understand. But our preachers do, and our theological students do. No, I wouldn't dare tell the people what I believe any more than you would dare tell the people what you believe."
To this point he came back again and again. He did not see how any intelligent man could believe and accept the Bible as we do, and he had a hard time believing that I was telling the truth when I said we believed the Bible, including the first chapter of Genesis.
This led to an extended conversation concerning the viewpoint of Modernists, especially with reference to doctrine. He had no use for doctrine. That belonged to the Dark Ages. It was life that counted, not doctrine. Away with Paul. Away with any doctrine. The beatitudes, the sermon on the mount, selected portions of the New Testament—that was Christianity.
This conversation led me to a closer study of what we really believe, and why we believe it. Was the pastor right in claiming that it is life that counts, not doctrine? Undoubtedly there is much truth in the statement that life is vital. Doctrine,—theory alone,—unaccompanied by life, "abideth alone." After all, it is only when Christianity is lived out that it becomes effective. Creeds serve their purpose, but creeds can never save. Only Christ can do that. And does not the Bible plainly state that Christ came that we might have life, and have it more abundantly? John 10:10. "In Him was life; and the life was the light of men." John 1:4.
Life is vital. A Christianity that consists only in creed, in a system of beliefs, be they ever so correct, is quite inadequate. One of the supreme things of which the world stands in need is a demonstration of what Christianity can do in the individual life. "The whole creation groaneth," "the earnest expectation of the creature" awaits "the manifestation of the sons of God." Rom. 8:22, 19. God and the whole creation -a-re waiting for a demonstration of what the gospel can do in the life of its followers. This demonstration has never been given in its fullness. There have been Christians throughout the ages, but the final demonstration is reserved until the last. Then God will show what Christianity is really like when it is lived out. And the result will be a people "that keep the commandments of God, and the faith of Jesus." Rev. 14:12.
There is, therefore, no doubt that emphasis must be placed on life. As Seventh-day Adventists we need this message of life. We must live out what we believe, or we will never convince the world. Life, life, more abundant life, more consecrated life, more dedicated life this must be our message; this we must sound to the ends of the earth. We must not only convince the world of the truth of our message, but we must convince them to the point where they will take their stand with us, where they will live out what they have been taught. Only as belief issues in life is it Christianity.
We therefore heartily agree with our friends when they place proper emphasis on life. But we just as heartily disagree with them when they discard doctrine. Doctrine and life cannot be separated. They are as the wings of a bird, both necessary. The right is not more important than the left. Progress cannot be made with one only. Working together, they will lift and propel; taken separately, the result will be only an ineffective flopping about. Doctrine to be effective must find its outlet in life; life to be effective must be founded on a correct understanding of the teachings of Christ and of Scripture.
It seems highly incongruous to shout "Christ, Christ," and yet be indifferent to what He says. It reminds one strongly of Luke 6:46: "Why call ye Me Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say?" Our Modernist friends would here interpose, and state that they are in perfect harmony with what Christ says. Christ, however, they would repeat, did not place emphasis on doctrine, but on life; hence their interest is not on doctrine any more than Christ's was.
This point is worth investigating. Did Christ teach and believe doctrine, or was He indifferent to and negligent of this phase? We shall see. As doctrine is merely another word for theology, and as a statement of doctrine in orderly form is systematic theology, it behooves us to know Christ's attitude toward doctrine. If Christ was interested in and taught doctrine, we should be interested in it and teach it. If theology did not interest Him, and if its orderly presentation would not meet His approval, we will do well to leave it alone.
College View, Nebr.
(To be continued)
