The rational basis of religious
experience
Part 4
by A G Oettle
THE REVELATION OF GOD
d. Special
revelation – the Bible
At best, nature
provides a very restricted and ambiguous impression of its Creator, and many
will have complained along with Job that “these are but the outskirts of his
ways; and how small a whisper do we hear of him!”[22]
It would not be unreasonable to expect a more direct revelation.
Such a revelation is exemplified in the Scriptures, a few
aspects of which can be touched upon. Modern archæological investigations have
tended to confirm orthodox views on the reliability of these writings. Sir
Frederic Kenyon has written that critics like the late Bishop Barnes of
Birmingham display “a very imperfect knowledge or appreciation of recent
discoveries, and a thoroughly unscholarly attitude to evidence”. Most of the
speculative conclusions of the higher criticism of the last century[23] can be shown to be erroneous. These critics
seem to have regarded their hypotheses as so obvious that evidence was
unnecessary. At best it can be said that they were insufficiently critical of
their presuppositions and regarded the evidence available as more conclusive
than it warranted.
The following paragraphs refer to a few features that
have impressed me personally.
1. Its unity. The Books comprising the Old and
New Testaments were written at different times over many centuries, by nearly
fifty authors, of utterly different social background and experience.
Nevetherless these writings preserve a harmony and unity that welds them into a
single book, which has a powerful relevance for mankind nearly twenty centuries
later. The Old Testament does not obviously anticipate the Christian writings,
yet the latter are not incompatible with what preceded them, and are in fact
typically foreshadowed in the earlier writings.
2. Its honesty. Although this collection is
largely devoted to the history of a single nation, yet it writes of this nation
and its heroes with a frankness quite unlike the self-glorification which marks
national histories even to the present day. In the lives of all other than
Jesus Christ the Bible records errors, failures or character defects. Despite
its claim to be the people of God, the nation of Israel is shown up to be even
more degenerate than the inhabitants of Sodom and Gomorrah, unfaithful and
idolatrous. This frankness is familiar to those accustomed to the Scriptures,
but may be startling to those reading them for the first time. Thus, a Jewish
friend of mine, to whom I gave a copy of the Bible was deeply shocked, and
described his forefathers as a group of criminals.
3. Its freedom from common mythological errors.
The general tone of myths and legends is one of extravagant exaggeration – one
need only remember the dimensions of their giants and the fiery performances of
their dragons. Yet Goliath was about nine foot[24] tall, which comes at the extreme range of the
known human growth potential, and the wild beasts to be faced are mere lions
and bears.
This restraint was certainly not a characteristic of the
people concerned, for the Talmudic legends of the Bible (Ginzberg) abound in
extravagant claims. Thus Judah’s roars of rage made the city walls in all Egypt
fall down, pregnant women miscarried and Pharaoh was flung from his throne.
Other legends make a more pious appeal to the sense of the marvellous, as in
the Talmudic account of God’s reasoning with Job, where the hazards awaiting
the new-born chamois are described:
“The gazelle gives birth to her young on the topmost point of a rock, and it would fall into the abyss and be crushed to death, if I did not send an eagle thither to catch it up and carry it to its mother. Were the eagle to appear a minute earlier or later than the appointed time, the little gazelle would perish. It hath never happened that the proper minute of time was missed.”
Similarly one has only to read the writings of the early
Christian Fathers to discern the striking difference between these writings,
however sincere, and the more or less contemporary documents which they
regarded as Scripture. One of the Fathers, for example, recounted the story of
the Phoenix (as an illustration of resurrection in nature). The lives of the
saints display the same extravagant tendencies. To the modern reader with much
more knowledge at his disposal it is abundantly clear that the works which the
early Church recognized as inspired are in a wholly different category from those
they rejected.
In a recent publication, McMillen has noted the contrast
between the simple health laws of the Israelites and their suitability for a
nomadic people, and the superstitious and hazardous practices of contemporary
Egyptian medicine recorded in the Ebers papyrus. Simple sanitary rules of
isolation, quarantine, washing, burial of dejecta and diet mark a standard of
hygiene which was not recovered until the development of modern public health.
The regulation requiring circumcision on the eighth day is unique to the Bible:
it is now known that the available prothrombin level in the infant’s blood
rises to a maximum on this day, so that the risk of bleeding is minimized, but
the Israelites were in no position to discover this fact for themselves
experimentally. The benefits of circumcision in hot climates are well known
today, both in preventing inflammation and cancer of the penis. The standard of
hygiene of the Israelites was far above that of their uncircumcized neighbours,
and still is.
At this point one can expect to hear the retort: What
about the miracles? I am not in favour of watering down the miracles: after
all, Christians must accept the incarnation and the resurrection of Jesus
Christ, so that it seems unnecessarily fastidious to stumble at Jonah and the
whale – especially since we have on record instances of other men being
swallowed by sperm whales and being ejected alive. As for Hume’s argument that
it was contrary to experience that a miracle was true, but not contrary to
experience that testimony was false, I would quote Darby’s rejoinder that the
use of the word “experience” excludes the idea of a miracle, and that the doubt
cast on testimony permits one to disregard any that one chooses to disbelieve.
On this basis any unusual observation can be rejected, such as the sighting of
a hoopoe in Scotland. In any case, if one believes in God, miracles pose no
difficulty. If one does not believe, refusal to accept miracles is a relatively
trivial issue.
4. The Prophecies. The impossibility of
prophecy, like that of miracles, is also part of the Rationalist creed. This
assumption has been adopted by certain scholars for dating the writings of Old
Testament prophets, subsequent to the events they referred to. This
disillusioned view is not without its problems. It does not explain how a
public, which was never very sympathetic to these prophets, could think such
retrospective and fraudulent writings worth preserving, especially since they
generally carried a highly critical account of their countrymen. Even supposing
that these writers managed to impose on an unusually credulous public, we still
have to explain how such dishonest frauds managed to achieve such ethical
insight and such sincere and genuine expressions of faith. This sceptical attitude
is much too facile, and would be most convincing to those who know least of the
subject.
One example which does not permit the adjustment of the
date of the writings is is given by the predicted return of the Jews to
Palestine. This return has formed part of the general expectation of Christian
groups on a basis of prophetic teaching, long before the political event was
envisaged. The survival of the Jews itself is remarkable enough, and puts one
in mind of the reply given to Frederic the Great, when he asked for a succinct
proof of the existence of God: “The Jews.”
Other predictions have yet to be fulfilled, such as the
possibility of world government indicated in the Revelation. This is much
easier to visualize in the light of modern developments in communication,
missiles and transportation.
5. Its conciseness. To those accustomed to the
verbosity of modern journalism, the succinct character of the Biblical writing
is remarkable. One need only consider for example how a modern writer would
have dealt with the parable of the good Samaritan in Luke[25]
and then examine the original with its extraordinary restraint in the use of
descriptive terms. The accounts of Jesus do not tell us his height, the tone of
his voice or the expression in his eyes – just the words and acts. Such
condensation does not come naturally, and generally implies both gift and
experience. Yet these works are by a variety of authors with no other writings
to their credit. It is, I believe, even more impressive in the original languages.
Thus Psalms 111 and 112 are both in acrostic form in which almost every phrase
consists of three Hebrew words. As another example of this intensity of meaning
I might quote the comment of a rabbi of my acquaintance on the words “mercy and
truth are met together” in the Psalms.[26]
For him this posed an insoluble paradox, for, he argued, if God is to show
mercy to man He must conceal what man really is, while if the truth is to be
told, there can only be judgment. To the sensitive reader, these writings provide
an inexhaustible store of concentrated wisdom.
6. Its riches. Full of pregnant phrases,
challenging or paradoxical, it has provided material for generations of
expositors. This is recognized by
those who have amused themselves by discussion the half-dozen essentials for a
one-way trip to a remote island. When one’s library has to be restricted to a
single book, the Bible usually scores over the Encyclopædia Britannica
as the book of which one is least likely to grow weary. It has a relevance to
persons of all social classes, and in its translations to those of all races,
and carries its own authority to the reader. Different aspects may arrest the
attention of different people – for example, I heard of a lawyer who was
challenged by the Ten Commandments, when he tried to compose a more up-to-date
set of rules of behaviour, only to find that despite the progress in legal
understanding and the complexity of modern society, he tended to return to the
original. He went back to his Bible reading with a new respect. A disillusioned
psychologist might find the rules governing social relationships worthy of
careful examination. They have been repudiated by the previous generation of
psychologists, but the results of their indoctrination have not been reassuring.
An impressive testimony to the unique quality of the New Testament writings has
been borne by two modern translators, E V Rieu and J B Phillips. They
have recorded how, during the process of translation, these writings became far
more living than they had been previously. The translators were affected by the
material they were handling, and the conviction grew in a powerful way that
these writings bore the unmistakable stamp of truth. One cannot predict what,
if anything, will arrest a given reader, but for the most it will carry its own
authority, and command respect.
e. Special
revelation – the record of Jesus Christ
The account of the
life of Christ records a standard which I do not find in the lives of other
religious teachers. We do not read of his search for truth – He was it. His
teaching was restricted to three years of public ministry, followed by a most
ignominious death, which left his disciples disillusioned and fearful, until
the Resurrection transformed them into courageous and dedicated missionaries,
with a message of authority and significance for all men.
The attempt to present Him as another moral teacher and
no more may succeed with those who are not very familiar with the facts. It
will appeal to those who are obliged to explain away His teaching and claims,
but it will not do, for He claimed to be divine. If this central claim of Jesus
Christ is false, then he cannot be regarded as a moral teacher or a good
example – if, on the other hand, it is true, the consequences to those who
ignore Him are dire.
f. The witness of
Christian lives
Although an
ethically higher standard of behavour is not the main purpose of religion, it
is a valuable byproduct. The Christian faith transforms cultures by
transforming characters: the Apostle Paul is perhaps the most striking
demonstration of this transformation. This process is well recognized by those
concerned with the management of alcoholism – that quagmire of broken
resolutions and failure – for faith provides a better bulwark at present than
drugs or psychotherapy, and is almost essential to recovery. It is sometimes
objected that faith demands the surrender of human freedom, and this is true
enough. For the alcoholic, certainly, faith challenges a man’s freedom to ruin
himself and his family, but also affirms the value of one who long may have
considered himself worthless, and for still longer been so regarded by his
acquaintances. In the place of his loss of freedom to destroy himself there is
a new freedom to serve God in a measure not dreamed of in his previous
degeneracy.
The contrast between the motivation of true Christians
and that of their fellow-citizens is well seen in colonial history. In most
colonies the whites formed two distinct categories of pioneer – one moved with
evangelical zeal to tell the heathen of their value in the sight of God, the
other driven by greed. The difference between those serving God and those
serving Mammon was abundantly clear to the natives (however incapable educated
Rationalists may be of recognizing the difference). It was said that on the
North-West frontier of India, Dr Pennell was worth two battalions to the
British Raj, though that was not the reason why he was there.
The extent of the influence of Christianity may pass
unrecognized today, since much of the Western way of life is affected by
Christian ideals. It differs greatly from the Eastern way of life on such
attitudes as those concerning the sanctity of life, the value of the most
insignificant of human beings and the place of women in society. The tyranny of
the strong is held in check to some extent if it be believed that the ruler
must also give account of himself to God. Our very freedoms are part of the
Christian heritage. Our hospitals, though not solely of Christian origin, owe
much of their development to Christian effort. Constantine required that every
large city provide for its sick by hospitals, and in Africa a large proportion
of hospital beds is provided by missions.[27]
Most of these lie in the remoter areas where the government services could not
easily find staff to run them. The histories of such places provide a series of
epics, mostly unwritten, but quite as impressive as the story of Schweitzer and
Lambarene, which the world has tended to regard as unique.
These places provide many examples of the unassuming display of the Christian virtues. A recent one will be mentioned here, taken from an account of the work of Dr Ian Murray at McCord Zulu Hospital in Durban. The full account given by Dr Aldyth Lasbery is too long to present here, but portrays a picture of sympathy and unselfishness which is rarely encountered. She described how he spent his off-duties sitting up with patients, and visiting them daily with spiritual as well as physical help. She writes:
“One afternoon, he said, quite casually: ‘Would you mind
standing-in for me: I need to be out for a while . . . I’ve just
finished my session in out-patients.’ What happened in that hour was later
recounted by a nurse who was deeply impressed. Dr Murray had examined a
chauffeur and found him to be acutely distressed and in congestive cardiac
failure. Finding it impossible to convince the elderly lady who was his
employer that it would be folly for this man to drive her home, Dr Murray
simply said: ‘Please give me the car keys.’ He sent the patient to the ward,
and drove the employer home himself, returning later to the hospital by bus.”
This was the obvious solution, but I cannot think of any casualty officer of my
experience who would have done the same.
Many more features of his life came to light after his
death. Unknown to any but the recipient, he paid the house rent for months for
a fellow Christian in need. He displayed the features of Christ rather than his
own personality. It was not that he was neglecting medical work, for in his plans
for medical missions he had considered the organization of refresher courses,
visits by specialists, digests of recent advances in medicine and arrangements
for the locum tenens.
For his future work in a certain hospital he considered
that he would need to be able to pilot an æroplane if he was to cover the
territory adquately. “On May 26th, 1964 he went out to complete the
last-but-two prescribed hours of solo flying. After checking in at Greytown, he
came out into cloud and mist in a narrow valley near Harburg, and there he
crashed. His last act of service was to take from his pocket his car and room
keys, and hold them tightly in his hand. Even in that moment, when he realized
his peril, he tried to save other people trouble.” Not many medical men would
calmly exploit their own impending cadaveric rigidity for the convenience of
others.
A patient commented: “It seemed as if Dr Murray just
stepped into the presence of his Master,” while an African staff member wrote:
“Ian’s death was to me as great as if I’d lost my own brother.”
In quoting this example, I do not suggest that unselfish
and self-sacrificing workers do not exist among non-Christians, and certainly
not that all Christians achieve these standards. This last admission should not
cause surprise seeing that Christianity is the only faith whose membership is
limited to confessed failures. Undoubtedly a number of the old characteristics
recur in most of us. Nevertheless I would claim that the range and power of
Christian service has blazed the trail for other social services, usually
endowed with more money, but with far less devotion. This may seem the more
remarkable seeing that Christian service is not primarily philanthropic,
charitable, or humanitarian – the primary motive is to serve the Master.
CONCLUSION
I put it to you
that if you concede for a moment the existence of a God who is concerned with
mankind, the Christian attitude is not unreasonable. Its claims certainly
demand the attention of thoughtful people.
At this point I would raise the final argument, which is
merely an appeal to self-interest, by comparing the consequences of being
mistaken. Suppose that eventually I am proved wrong, and mystical experience
and the sense of communion turn out to have been no more than self-deception,
and confidence in the face of death proves unfounded. (This last benefit is not
inconsiderable, I might remark in passing, and should you doubt this, I would
suggest that you attend a discussion of the question “Should the doctor tell?”)
Anyway, if I have been deceived it will be too late for regrets – whereas if
you Rationalists have been wrong you are in for a hell of an awakening.[28]
Consequently I urge you to consider whether your attitude
is as rational as you imagine. For your encouragement I quote the words of John
Donne in a sermon at St Paul’s on Christmas Day, 1624:
“We call upon particular Consciences . . . to call to mind God’s occasional mercies to them: such mercies as a regenerate man will call mercies, though a natural man would call them accidents, or occurrences, or contingencies . . . He brought light out of darkness, not out of a lesser light; he can bring thy Summer out of Winter, though thou have no Spring; though in the ways of fortune, or understanding, or conscience thou have been benighted till now, winterd and frozen, clouded and eclypsed, damped and benummed, smothered and stupefied till now, now God comes to thee, not as in the dawning of the day, not as in the bud of spring, but as the Sun at noon to illustrate all shadowes, as the sheaves in harvest, to fill all penuries . . . all occasions invite his mercies and all times are his seasons.”
