Gooding, David: 1 - Life's Ideals

If it is a proper thing to do to begin a new series of lectures with a confession, I think I should like to confess that, um, I find it no martyrdom, but an exceedingly gratifying thing to be asked to come and deliver a second series, eh, eh, to this gathering. I'm not unaware, of course, of the flattery you do me in asking me back a second time, but, uh, that, uh, is a something upon which I may feed my vanity in my own private, uh, uh, mind. I'm thinking now, when I say I find it gratifying, I'm thinking of the opportunity it gives me to complete what must have been last year an exceedingly incomplete and one-sided account of things. Last year, in fact, I was, uh, comparing Christianity with other systems of thought, such as humanism, and generally, uh, generally arguing that the objections which humanism raises against Christianity are not, um, uh, so serious as might appear, and that Christianity in itself is an exceedingly rational system of thought. But of course, even suppose I have proved that, much remains unsaid from any sort of argument of that kind. There are indeed many people who would agree that Christianity is quite a reasonable faith, and indeed may go further a- and be of the opinion that if we are to attain to ideals that are worthy, we shall need some kind of religion, and uh, reli- as religions go, Christianity is as good as any, perhaps the best that there is. But even starting from that premise, I feel that much remains to be said. For it is when we come to the question of the applying of Christianity, supposing we accept that Christianity is a good thing and a decent religion and a reasonable system of thought, it is when we come to, um, uh, apply that Christianity to the practicalities of daily life, that when there we find so many people drift apart, and perhaps most of the misconceptions about Christianity occur. At least that is my experience, and I can do no more than speak from my own experience. I find it, for instance, quite a common thing that many people, uh, agreeing that Christianity is reasonable enough, would hold to the view that I have expressed as the subtitle of this lecture, that whereas Christianity is a good religion, nevertheless one religion is quite as true as another. For instance, people of other faiths than the Christian faith, and indeed a good many people who profess Christianity, would seriously hold that view that one religion is as true as another. They do it on this sort of basis. They posit first this: religion, they say, i- is a means of helping us to be good, to behave decently, to get the truest and the best out of life. And if we can agree there, then it doesn't really matter what sort of religion you have, so long as your religion helps you to the goal, to the objective of being a decent kind of a fellow. Let us take an analogy from, uh, a completely different realm to try and understand what they mean. Let's take the realm of sport. Now, everybody knows that the, uh, purpose of sport is, uh, in the first place, perhaps to have some recreation of mind, to exercise our bodies, to enjoy the fun of it all, and, uh, not only so, but in the process, perhaps to build character, uh, unselfishness, a team spirit, and so forth. And that the, uh, fun of the game helps us to discipline ourselves. Now then, um, if you're going to have a game and you're going to attain those worthy ideals of bodily and phys- uh, and mental exercise and refreshment and self-discipline, you must have rules by which to govern the game. And the rules will be set, uh, by the authorities above you, so to speak. And at any one time in the course of the game, there's the book of rules away in the, in the clubhouse. There's the referee to apply the rules. Behind the referee stands the rule book and the committee that made the rules. And the individual player, well, of course, he bows to the referee, unquestioningly bows to the referee. That's a part of the whole religion of the business, you see. For you couldn't have players doing just any old thing, it would ruin the game. There would be no self-discipline, there would be no healthy exercise, there would be no team spirit or any of the good ideals that we seek in sport. Yes. Well, suppose, uh, given those understandings, uh, I say, well, now my, my, uh, sport, you know, is rugby. I think that's a very good, uh, uh, sport. I believe wholeheartedly in the rules of rugby. Oh, very good. But this other man over here, he, he, he, he believes in the rules of soccer, you see. And they're quite different rules. You can be offside in one game and not offside in the other. In, in, uh, uh, rugby, you may pick up the ball and run, but you mustn't do that in soccer unless you happen to be the privileged goalkeeper. Now, suppose two men started arguing. Here is the rugby enthusiast, uh, talking to the soccer man, and he says, you know, uh, my rugby is the only way. Well, we can see at once that would be absurd. It's the only way if you're a rugby player. Um, but there are many other systems, they're all equally good for the general aim and object of getting, uh, exercise, mental and physical. Suppose then we got hold of the rule books of each game, and we, uh, said, well, what about these rules in this book? Are they true? Ha. Well, you would have to immediately to qualify that, wouldn't you? You would have to say, well, they're true for anybody that's in that particular game. They don't hold true if you're not in that game. You bow to other, uh, rules. So, um, if you happen to have chosen boxing as your particular sport, well, you can bash the other folk, a man around deliberately on the nose and draw his blood, and that's quite all right according to the rules. But if you should be playing rugby, it's not supposed to be, anyway, it's not supposed to be against the r- uh, according to the rules, deliberately to bash the man upon the nose. Mm. And though those two sets of rules seem to contradict each other, well, we can explain it all by saying, well, each set of rules is equally true for the man who is in that particular game. And on that analogy, some people, uh, take their their view of religion. Christianity, very good faith. Buddhism, a very good faith. Mohammedanism, yes, equally good. All of them good because they're all, uh, different ways of going about the same thing. You'll see, inculcating self-discipline, striving after purity and being decent to one's fellow and improving the world and living harmoniously. And if it should be that some of the rules conflict, well, who bothers? One man, according to his chosen system of self-discipline, doesn't eat pork. Another man says it's quite all right to eat pork. Never mind, one is just as true as another because they're all going for the same end, but by different rules. Now that, of course, is an extreme view, perhaps held mostly by people that are not Christians, but held indeed in this modern era, with the winds of change in theological circles blowing very strong in the direction of a general join up of religions. But it is perhaps a strong view, uh, and you may think it possibly relevant to this present, uh, gathering. And yet, I find that there are other people that are committed Christians. They believe, uh, that is to say, that Christianity is in some sense unique. They own the divinity of Christ. They believe he has risen from the dead. But then, as is, uh, well known, in fact notorious, there are so many different versions of Christianity, are there not? So different, many of them, that you could count them different religions almost. At one extreme, perhaps you have the cloistered monk with his asceticism. On the other, the street corner preacher, uh, with his fulsome oratory and his insistence on people being saved. Um, what should we say about that? Here too, I find so many people inclined to the view that, well, of course, it doesn't really matter which interpretation of Christianity you hold. They're all equally good. They're all aimed at the same end. Um, surely it doesn't matter by what rules you do it. In fact, there never was a day in which perhaps popular opinion in religious matters inclines in Christendom to this view, that because religion is all about being good and being kind and being tolerant to one's neighbor, then it would be the very opposite of true religious spirit for any one particular interpretation of Christianity to say it was the only one. That would be regarded nowadays as intolerant, and therefore against the very spirit, the basic goal of Christianity and religion. And, uh, as we all may see, I suppose there's a good deal of cogency in that viewpoint. So many and bitter have been the wranglings between Christian sects that there is, I say, a great tremendous amount of cogency in the idea that it doesn't really matter what interpretation you put on Christianity and how you work it. One religion as good as another is as true as another. We are all striving to the same end. Pay great risk, therefore, uh, of delivering an exceedingly unpopular lecture. I want now to comment on that general idea, or rather to, to give what I consider is Christianity's comment on that sort of proposition. One religion is true as another, because whatever religion, whatever interpretation it may be, they're all going to the same end of making us good, to put it in very simple terms. And I should say that in the first place, Christianity's comment would be this, that whereas maybe religion in the broadest sense is concerned with making people good, Christianity's fundamental concern is not primarily with making people good. Now that is, I know, a very provocative statement. I would say, by contradistinction, that Christianity's prime concern is with God as a person and our personal relations with him. And you'll say, well, whatever is the difference? Oh, but there is a a very considerable difference. It would be quite easy to have, um, a a a a a a series of ideals and to work to them with religious fervor, and yet, uh, for one's personal relationships with God, uh, to be quite amiss. Let me, uh, first, uh, call in the help of a somewhat crude analogy. In the good old days of piracy, allow me to imagine a pirate ship. The man in command was educated at Eton, but he somehow got into this, um, uh, trade, feeling a little bit hard done by, by those that were a bit more rich than himself. Anyway, now he's a pirate. But of course, in his pirate ship, everything is conducted with the strictest regularity. Their ideals are exceedingly commendable. They have set themselves that they will never, uh, hurt women and children, never frighten them more than they have to. They will never needlessly kill. They will show every respect for human life. Uh, they wouldn't think of leaving anybody in danger. And among themselves, what- what booty they- they take, they would distribute it on the most equitable of terms. Everybody would obey the commander. Everybody would be considerate for his fellows. Their ship would be a little heaven on earth, uh, in its own little circle. And apart from the, the minor matter of occasionally relieving overly rich people of a little unnecessary belongings, their ideals are exceedingly high and very good. Ah yes, so it may be, for their relations with the Crown are exceedingly bad. And so long as you look at that little pirate ship by itself, it's all very nice and proper. Their ideals good. But if you consider those people and their high ideals in relation, uh, to to the Crown, then of course all their high ideals go for absolutely nothing. And you may think that that is a exceedingly strange and a very crude analogy, but I do find, uh, that situation in the Bible itself. There is one, at least, famous example of this. The character who began life as Saul of Tarsus was a, not only a religious man, but a religious man with exceedingly high ideals. And what is more, he had these ideals, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, not only, uh, to appear religious before men, but, um, real genuine moral ideals, not just religiosity. And he prosecuted these ideals with all the ardor and energy of his being. His code was the Ten Commandments. We could honestly say in later life that as far as he knew, he had pursued those ideals honestly and to the full. What accounted for his conversion from Judaism to Christianity? Well, it was just this sort of discovery. While his ideals were excellent, his personal relations with God were completely astray. He never would have dreamed it himself, until, in fact, he came in contact with Jesus Christ, our Lord, and discovered in Christ exactly what God was like, and found that his relationships with God were abysmally wrong. And I didn't tell you of the revolution it, it led to in the man's attitude. I'm going to suggest that as our first consideration. If you say to Christianity one religion is true of another, as as true as another, Christianity will say not so. Because, first and foremost, Christianity is about our, not so much our our moral and ethical ideals, but of our heart attitude to a personal God as revealed in Christ. And then taking the next step, I should say this, that Christianity, as we all know, calls upon a man not only to believe in God and to worship God i- in a sort of formal and perfunctory fashion. God is spirit, says the Bible, and they that worship God must worship God in spirit. At the very lowest, that means that his worship of God, uh, must be something that takes his full energy, his whole heart, not done perfunctorily. To sum it up, in fact, the Bible says that we are to love God, not just be correct and proper and nice people, never doing anybody any harm and paying our divine rates and taxes on a- a- as occasion demands. The Bible says that we are to love God. And here we come across another practical difficulty. You cannot love someone you do not know. And Christianity does claim that the only one who can tell you what God is really like is our Lord Jesus Christ. Now, let me explain that, because I suspect that many of us will have the idea that we know all there is to be known of God. Many of us will naturally feel we know a tremendous lot about God. Uh, we can go outside and look at his creation, we can see his greatness, we can admire his engineering skill in making our universe. We can appreciate, if we are artists, his color schemes. We can delight ourselves in the music of the birds he has made. We can gather a lot about God from observing human life and seeing human affection and deduce that God is love and kind and good and pleasant and happy. We may in fact feel we know a tremendous lot about God, and of course the Bible says that is quite so. But in this deeper sense of knowing God, the Bible says that they only know God personally, to whom Christ gives the ability to know God. On this way, for instance, you may like Benjamin Britten's music. I can't say I- I'm over-enraptured with it myself, but you may. And be, uh, knowledgeable about Benjamin Britten, about the intricacies of the way he- he builds his works, and be able to talk a good deal about Benjamin Britten, but you may not know Benjamin Britten. And Benjamin Britten is a far bigger thing than his musical works. If you only know Benjamin Britten through his musical works, you can't really say you know Benjamin Britten. And God is a far bigger thing than the creation that he has given us. We may know a lot about God, says Christianity, but only they know God personally, to whom Christ has given the ability to know. Let me try and explain that. You say, um, I know a lot about God. I believe God's beautiful and kind and loving, and gracious. What more do I need? What is it I lack? Well, take me and my dog. There are some things I share with my dog. That is a general delight in beef steaks. You give my dog a beef steak, he has the capacity to enjoy it, and he gives every evidence that he is enjoying it. Give me a beef steak, and I, uh, don't waggle my tail, but I do, uh, try and show I'm enjoying this beef steak. He appreciates the warm of a comfortable fire on the evening of an, uh, winter evening, so do I. He appreciates a bit of affection, a little tickle around the ears, and, uh, in other sort of idioms, so do I. Hmm. You take my dog into your library and show him, um, uh, one of your beautiful oil paintings by Constable. The thing looks completely stupid. You play him a bar or two from Benjamin Britten that you so revel in, and he howls his head off. You see, you do share something. Your dog, uh, goes so far with you, but then no further. And the Bible comments on that sort of situation between us and God. It says, now, for really knowing God in that more intimate sense, only they know God who, uh, to whom God gives his Holy Spirit. You see, for your dog to come and enjoy your constable, he would have to be given a human spirit, a distinctively human spirit. And for mankind to come to know God, says the Bible, why the only way it's possible is for man to be given God's Holy Spirit. And that is the extreme, I I nearly said, claim of Christianity. And I hope I am making it clear at this stage that we are talking not about some, uh, far away, abstruse theological proposition. We are talking about an exceedingly practical matter. I personally fear, I hope it doesn't sound too pompous, but my impression is that there are a large number of people who accept the general sort of Christian doctrines, maybe, and are doing their best to worship God and finding it an unsatisfactory business, just for this reason. They do it maybe as a duty, maybe they enjoy the church music, maybe they enjoy the good works that go with Christianity and are its result, but at the bottom of it all, they are trying to worship a God whom they do not really know personally. They lack this intimate fellowship, for they have never received what Christ calls eternal life. I shall take it that we all of us are aware that Christianity does offer to people a gift that it calls eternal life. Now, what that is exactly is this, said Christ, eternal life is that we might know God, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom God has sent. In other words, Christ gives to those who will have it a new life, a spiritual life that has that ability of knowing God, and that makes true fellowship with God possible for the first time. And only they get true satisfaction from the worship of God, who have received this gift. Now, I dare say at this stage, somebody says, well, that sounds all marvelously mystical, and in fact makes life very, very difficult. Here am I, says somebody, doing my level best to be good, as good a Christian as anybody else may be. I find that difficult enough. Now what you seem to be saying is that Christianity is a far more difficult thing even than that. That when we've done our very best at being good, now we've got to add this, whatever you call it, this extra bit of trying somehow to get hold of this mysterious experience. Are you not making Christianity far too difficult for the ordinary person? And the answer is, of course, not. In fact, the very reverse. Because our Lord says that this new life, this, this new ability to know God, is a something which he gives that no other religion, that no religion at all, in fact, can give, not even the Christian religion. For if you think of the Christian relig- religion as a sort of a code of self-discipline, a round of worship, then even Christianity as a religion doesn't give you this. It is a something that Christ, and only Christ, can give. That is why, of course, it is impossible to take the view that one religion is as true as another. And I w- I say, and I want to stress, if I may, that this, this new life, says Christ, is a gift. Let me take an, uh, uh, uh, an analogy, the same old analogy with a different twist. Suppose here a man, his dog, and his baby boy. Now that dog has gone through a long training. The ritual is tremendous, you know, he comes in the back door and sits down a- a- and scrapes his feet on the mat, how well he's been trained. Uh, he never would think of jumping o- o- onto the sofa. He has his own, uh, little, um, uh, box of fare he sleeps in. He never would disturb any guest. He wouldn't ever jump up at a guest. He wouldn't dream of jumping up at a guest. Uh, if he's offered anything, he doesn't take it in the ordinary beastly manner. He he se- sits up on his hind legs and begs for the thing. Oh, a beautifully trained dog. What's more, he's learned so much about his master that he can often, uh, almost foresee his master's will. He's been trained, you know, uh, out with his master doing a bit of rough shooting, or maybe, uh, gathering in the sheep. He can understand all sorts of communications from his master. Very good. In that respect, you may say he's far advanced over this, um, one-year-old baby. Yes. But then in another sense, that baby has a something, uh, that that dog will never have. That baby has a capacity to know its father, a capacity that dog will never acquire. And all the amount of training that you would give that dog will never give it what that baby's got. And how did the baby get it? We'll say, well, the baby will have to be trained before it understands its father. I know it will. He'll train it in the nursery, he'll train it at school. But let us see, it's not the training that gives that baby the ability to know its father. The training only develops the ability that's already there and came with the gift of life. The baby didn't struggle to get it. It was given the life. And that is a true analogy, because it isn't one that I've made up, it's one that the Bible itself uses and repeatedly uses. The Bible says that if we're to know God, we must receive from Christ a new spiritual life. That is the meaning of the phrase we hear bandied about so much in popular preaching, but so true and not to be sneered at. Fundamentally true. You must, said our Lord, be born again. You must. It's Christianity's number one initial necessity. You must. But that birth, that receiving of this new life, and this is the tremendous thing about Christianity, is not something that we attain to or qualify for by rigid and prolonged religious disciplines. It's a something that we receive free and for nothing. In the sense that a man could come in this room tonight, not a Christian, could meet with Christ and receive that life. Here and now, this very moment, and depart a child of God with all the potential within him now for knowing God, therefore worshiping God, and therefore serving him acceptably. It is, of course, I trust by now, um, uh, very, very clear that in this context we cannot possibly say that one religion is as true as another. For only Christ can work that miracle in a man, can give him the very life of God, as God calls eternal life. Then our Lord laid it down that they that worship God must worship him not only in spirit, but according to truth. That is, on the one side, Christianity claims to give a man the potential, the potential ability of getting to know God. On the other hand, it doesn't leave him to some sort of vague and mysterious feelings about what God is like. But Christianity says now that if you will know God, you will find God perfectly and fully expressed in Jesus Christ. You will, of course, Christianity freely says it and preaches it. You will find a lot about God through other prophets, Moses maybe, who happened to be a Jew, Melchizedek, for instance, the priest o- of Salem, who wasn't a Jew and belonged to some other faith, the name of which we're not given in the Bible. These men, uh, told us much about God in their day, in their limited way, but Christianity says if we want to know fully what God is like, you will see that expressed in Jesus Christ. And therefore, a man that would worship God and attain to Christian ideals must perforce worship God according to truth, that is, according to what Christ has said. Now, again, I want to descend, uh, from abstruse theology to the very practical realms. Christ has shown us a lot of things about God, but take this one instance, the question of God's attitude to personal sin. Christ said that God was wrath, that God is angry. And you will at once perceive that there are a good many people that disagree with that completely. I was talking to a student just the other day. He was, in fact, a Buddhist. Said he to me, you know, Christianity and Buddhism are really about the same thing, exactly the same thing. I said, that's a, that's news to me. It's the same God, he said. Presently, the con- conversation veered round to what God is really like. And as I was trying to put upon, put to him what I felt Christianity was saying, I happened to mention that, uh, this matter of the wrath of God. Oh no, he said, I couldn't have that. I don't think God gets angry. I couldn't begin to picture God as angry. I said, why not? Well, he says, that seems to me is like an old grandfather up in the sky with a big stick. Well, I said, you just don't told me that God was love. Uh, suppose I said that God is love? Well, that's a picture of an old grandfather up in the sky with a bag of sweets in his pocket. Well, no, he says, not quite like that. I said, no, indeed not. But, uh, why will you have it that God is love and that, on the other hand, God does not get angry with sin and sinners? Well, he he he just thought it wasn't that way. So here we come to an exceedingly practical point. Take this one instance alone. The question of whether God is angry with sinners and whether there is such a thing as a wrath of God. Now, it is a matter of fact that of all the preachers and prophets, it was Jesus Christ our Lord who most told us that God is angry, that there is a wrath who will descend on unbelieving and impenitent people. I'm making the point just here that, if that is so, then the man who says that God doesn't get angry, well, he may have a very fine system of, uh, of religious thought, but it's idle, isn't it, saying that that is the same as Christianity, and it's idle to say that one is as true as another. And Christ says, and Christianity says, that God is angry against sin, and it's impossible for a man to achieve proper relations with God until this matter of a man's sinfulness has been brought out into the light and properly forgiven. It is this of qua- it is this place where Christ, of course, is absolutely unique. He makes it possible for a man to face himself in the starkest reality, with all his actual misdeeds and all his potential for sinning. Makes it possible for that man to be accepted with God and received, knowing all the facts and being exceedingly realist, because Christ has offered a full sacrifice for sin, and so made it possible for that man to be received. If I now have made the point that herein is Christianity, uh, quite unique, I want to pass on immediately, because our next lecture will deal more fully with that matter. It is a matter of prime and fundamental importance in the practical things of Christian experience, this matter of our failures and God's attitude to them. I want finally to say that if you say that one religion is as true as another, Christianity will say no. There are such things as idols. And again, Christianity will say, one religion is not as true as another. Some are only half the truth. Take one other practical facet of religious experience. The matter of whether a man can be absolutely certain that he has been received by God and is a child of God and will never be cast out. Now, if you want to do a little bit of scientific investigation, take, uh, uh, two hundred Christians, if you like, uh, from Belfast, take them quite at random and put that simple question to them. Do you think it is possible to be sure that you've been accepted with God, that you will never be cast out. And you'll get very varied answers, among which will be a very high proportion who, of people who will say, certainly not, nobody can possibly be sure. But yet the Bible, uh, uh, says plainly this way round. Here I quote the words of, of the Apostle John. Eh, summing up Christian faith, he puts it like this. We know that the Son of God is come. That is the objective thing. We know that God has revealed himself. There is no doubt, says John. We utterly know it. We know secondly that, uh, this Son of God has given us an understanding that we might know him that is true. That understanding I was talking about earlier. The people, uh, to whom Christ has given this ability to know God are absolutely sure of it. Listen again to the Christian claim. We know that he has given us this understanding that we might know him that is true. And thirdly, we know that we are in him. That is true. That is, Christ has accepted us to himself, that God has accepted us to himself and will never cast us out. Has shared with us his life and will never withdraw it. We know it, is the Christian claim. There tonight I want to leave the thing. It is obviously impossible to maintain that these two interpretations are reconcilable, and both equally as good. To say, on the one hand, the man that doesn't know and doesn't think you can know has exactly the same relationship with God as the man who says, yes, because God is my spiritual father, and I know that I'm in Christ, and I have received that understanding of which the Bible speaks. It's obviously impossible to say that they are equally true. Allow me then to point out how eminently satisfying is the Christian claim. If it is indeed possible for a man to be reconciled to God with in this fashion, and to receive from Christ a spiritual life he didn't have before, and to enter into a fellowship with God that is a new life, a new living with all his different new potentials. And if that man can know it and be utterly sure, oh, how satisfying is that personal relationship. You may think it a crude analogy, but I don't know what woman would be content to say, well, I don't know whether Mr. So-and-so is my husband or not. Sometimes I think he is, and sometimes I think he isn't. It's not a crude analogy, for Christ himself and his apostles say that God's love for Christians is like the love of a man for his wife. And the basic thing about that relationship must be the security of knowledge that they will not be cast out. That then, as I conceive it, is the Christian viewpoint on this matter. One religion is not as true as another. But if Christianity is true, then we have not so much here discussed this evening various interpretations, theological arguments, now to decide which one is true and which one is not. Rather, is it this fashion, that calm and considered and unemotional, uh, as our, our, our lecture has been. Jesus Christ is literally present in this room. Not discussing with us alternative views of religion, but saying, I have the power to impart a new life, and if you only knew this gift of God, you would ask for it, and I would give it you. And receiving it, you would come to that satisfaction and assurance. So that our thought, perhaps as we leave, should be this. Not whether I think, uh, is this religion better than that one? But what shall I do with this fantastic claim from Jesus Christ that is present in this room, offering me a spiritual life as a gift, which now I have either to receive or to decline. The Savior's remark was, if you knew what the gift was, you would ask for it, and And I I would would give give it. it.