visions; they assumed now a reciprocal quality, they explained
one another and the
riddle before him. The first had shown him
the personal human
aspect of God, he had seen God as the unifying
captain
calling for his personal service, the second had set the
stage for that service in the
spectacle of mankind's adventure.
He had been shown a great
multitude of human spirits reaching up
at
countless points towards the
conception of the
racial unity
under a
divineleadership, he had seen mankind on the verge of
awakening to the kingdom of God. "That solves no mystery," he
whispered, gripping the seat and frowning at the water;
"mysteries remain mysteries; but that is the
reality of religion.
And now, now, what is my place? What have I to do? That is the
question I have been asking always; the question that this moment
now will answer; what have I to do?...
God was coming into the life of all mankind in the
likeness of
a captain and a king; all the governments of men, all the leagues
of men, their debts and claims and possessions, must give way to
the world
republic under God the king. For five troubled years he
had been staring religion in the face, and now he saw that it
must mean this--or be no more than fetishism, Obi, Orphic
mysteries or ceremonies of Demeter, a
legacy of
mental dirtiness,
a residue of self-mutilation and
superstitious sacrifices from
the
cunning, fear-haunted, ape-dog phase of human development.
But
it did mean this. And every one who apprehended as much was
called by that very
apprehension to the service of God's kingdom.
To live and serve God's kingdom on earth, to help to bring it
about, to
propagate the idea of it, to establish the method of
it, to
incorporate all that one made and all that one did into
its growing
reality, was the only possible life that could be
lived, once that God was known.
He sat with his hands gripping his knees, as if he were holding
on to his idea. "And now for my part," he whispered, brows knit,
"now for my part."
Ever since he had given his
confirmation addresses he had been
clear that his task, or at least a
considerableportion of his
task, was to tell of this faith in God and of this
conception of
service in his kingdom as the form and rule of human life and
human society. But up to now he had been floundering hopelessly
in his search for a method and means of telling. That, he saw,
still needed to be thought out. For example, one cannot run
through the world crying, "The Kingdom of God is at hand." Men's
minds were still so filled with old
theological ideas that for
the most part they would understand by that only a
fantasy of
some great coming of angels and fiery chariots and judgments, and
hardly a soul but would doubt one's sanity and turn scornfully
away. But one must
proclaim God not to
confuse but to convince
men's minds. It was that and the habit of his
priestly
callingthat had disposed him towards a
pulpit. There he could reason and
explain. The
decorativegenius of Lady Sunderbund had turned that
intention into a vast
iridescent absurdity.
This sense he had of thinking
openly in the sight of God,
enabled him to see the adventure of Lady Sunderbund without
illusion and without shame. He saw himself at once honest and
disingenuous, divided between two aims. He had no doubt now of
the path he had to
pursue. A stronger man of
permanently clear
aims might possibly turn Lady Sunderbund into a useful
opportunity,
oblige her to provide the rostrum he needed; but for
himself, he knew he had neither the needed strength nor
clearness; she would
smother him in
decoration,
overcome him by
her
picturesque persistence. It might be
ridiculous to run away
from her, but it was necessary. And he was
equally clear now that
for him there must be no idea of any
pulpit, of any sustained
mission. He was a man of
intellectual moods; only at times, he
realized, had he the
inspiration of truth; upon such uncertain
snatches and glimpses he must live; to make his life a ministry
would be to face phases when he would simply be "carrying on,"
with his mind blank and his faith asleep.
His thought spread out from this
perennial decision to more
general things again. Had God any need of organized
priests at
all? Wasn't that just what had been the matter with religion for
the last three thousand years?
His
vision and his sense of
access to God had given a new
courage to his mind; in these moods of enlightenment he could see
the world as a comprehensible ball, he could see history as an
understandable drama. He had always been on the verge of
realizing before, he realized now, the two entirely different and
antagonistic strands that interweave in the twisted rope of
contemporary religion; the old strand of the
priest, the
fetishistic element of the blood sacrifice and the obscene rite,
the element of
ritual and
tradition, of the cult, the caste, the
consecrated tribe; and interwoven with this so closely as to be
scarcely separable in any existing religion was the new strand,
the religion of the prophets, the unidolatrous
universalworshipof the one true God. Priest religion is the antithesis to prophet
religion. He saw that the founders of all the great existing
religions of the world had been like himself--only that he was
a weak and
commonplace man with no
creative force, and they had
been great men of
enormous initiative--men reaching out, and
never with a complete
definition, from the old kind of religion
to the new. The Hebrew prophets, Jesus, whom the
priests killed
when Pilate would have spared him, Mohammed, Buddha, had this
much in common that they had sought to lead men from temple
worship, idol
worship, from rites and ceremonies and the rule of
priests, from anniversaryism and sacra
mentalism, into a direct
and simple relation to the
simplicity of God. Religious progress
had always been liberation and simplification. But none of these
efforts had got
altogether clear. The organizing
temper in men,
the
disposition to dogmatic theorizing, the
distrust of the
discretion of the young by the
wisdom of age, the fear of
indiscipline which is so just in
warfare and so foolish in
education, the
tremendous power of the propitiatory
tradition,
had always caught and crippled every new
gospel before it had run
a score of years. Jesus for example gave man neither a
theologynor a church organization; His sacrament was an
innocent feast of
memorial; but the
fearful,
limited, imitative men he left to
carry on his work
speedily restored all these three abominations
of the antiquated religion,
theology,
priest, and sacrifice.
Jesus indeed, caught into identification with the ancient victim
of the
harvest sacrifice and turned from a plain teacher into a
horrible blood bath and a mock
cannibal meal, was surely the
supreme feat of the ironies of chance....
"It is curious how I drift back to Jesus," said Scrope. "I have
never seen how much truth and good there was in his teaching
until I broke away from Christianity and began to see him plain.
If I go on as I am going, I shall end a Nazarene...."
He thought on. He had a feeling of temerity, but then it seemed
as if God within him bade him be of good courage.
Already in a glow of
inspiration he had said practically as
much as he was now thinking in his
confirmation address, but now
he realized completely what it was he had then said. There could
be no
priests, no specialized
ministers of the one true God,
because every man to the
utmostmeasure of his
capacity was bound
to be God's
priest and
minister. Many things one may leave to
specialists:
surgery, detailed
administration,
chemistry, for
example; but it is for every man to think his own
philosophy and
think out his own religion. One man may tell another, but no man
may take
charge of another. A man may avail himself of
electrician or
gardener or what not, but he must stand directly
before God; he may suffer neither
priest nor king. These other
things are
incidental, but God, the kingdom of God, is what he is
for.
"Good," he said, checking his
reasoning. "So I must bear
witness to God--but neither as
priest nor
pastor. I must write
and talk about him as I can. No reason why I should not live by
such
writing and talking if it does not
hamper my message to do
so. But there must be no high place, no ordered
congregation. I
begin to see my way....
The evening was growing dark and chill about him now, the sky
was barred with deep bluish
purple bands drawn across a chilly
brightness that had already forgotten the sun, the trees were