p. 138You probably begin to feel the comfort arising from the recognition of God as the foundation of the universe?—Perhaps I ought to feel in that way; I cannot say that I have got quite to that point yet.
You must not be discouraged. Subtle and remotely-fetched ideas are a long time in practically affecting the mind, but sooner or later, they produce their effects when once taken in and nourished.—I wish these ideas concerning God were not so “remotely-fetched” as you express it. They would have more weight with us if they were more proximate.
You mean if we could see them more easily?—Yes: if we could see the truth concerning God as easily as we see the light of day for example.
The day will come when that will be the case. It is a matter of promise that we shall then “know even as we are known,” and that “Heaven will be open.”
p. 139 But our spiritual needs would require that now. What can we do with Heaven shut and darkness everywhere?—We can “walk by faith.”
That is not easy.—But it is possible, and even easy where faith is strong.
But what if faith is weak?—Well, is it an unhappy state.
I am. afraid it is the state of most of us.—More so than need be, perhaps.
I don’t know that we are responsible for it. If our faith is weak, it is weak. If our faith is strong, it is strong.—But there is an element in the case that you do not take into account there. Faith is not a fixed quantity like the colour of our hair, or the size of our bones. Faith is a result depending upon conditions that are under our control. In this respect, it is like health or education. We may at a given moment be helplessly unwell, or uneducated; but in so far as that state may be due to things done, or left undone by us, we may be responsible for our state and may have it in our power under due enlightenment to change our state.
I understand there is an organ in the brain that gives the power of faith? If so, its size and strength will determine our capacity for faith, I presume.—There is an organ in the brain that gives the mind the power of realizing things unseen, when the other faculties have decided upon evidence that they exist; but this power will not be developed apart from the action of those other faculties. It is absolutely true, and in strictest harmony with physiological science that “faith cometh by hearing” (Rom. x. 17). Faith will not come from the organ of wonder by itself; for the organ by itself is ignorant, and faith is the result of information.
p. 140 I understood that faith was an affair of trust, apart from information.—It may be so in popular impression. It is not so in Bible usage, nor indeed in current intelligent practice. Intelligent people have faith in all sorts of things and persons, but never without a reason. They can tell you why they have faith, and their faith is none the less powerful or operative for resting on reason and not on sight. The farmer has faith in the depth of winter that summer will come again, and in the faith of harvest, he parts with actual grain stock which he uses as seed. He can give a reason for his faith, but still it is faith, and his faith is strong and affects his calculations and his actions, though relating to things not yet seen. So with a long-tried, perhaps absent, friend, who has given you a promise in some important matter of business: You have faith in his performance, though it is for the moment unseen, and this faith is based on knowledge of him. You could not exercise this faith apart from knowledge, neither could a farmer exercise faith enough to part with his seed-grain if he did not know by experience the stability of Nature’s operations. Imperfect knowledge in either case would produce weak faith, and ignorance would prevent any faith at all.
Do you put faith in God on a level with these cases?—As regards its origin and operation, certainly. As Paul says: “Faith comes by hearing,” and where faith is strong, action is in harmony with it by the inevitable law of cause and effect. As John says: “This the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith;” and again, “Who is he that overcometh the world but he that believeth that Jesus is the Son of God.” On deepest reflection you will find this to be true—that a man entertaining the full persuasion p. 141 that Jesus was what he alleged, will get the better of a world that believes him not and disregards his commandments. He will keep himself unspotted from such a world by the sheer power of the conviction that Jesus is the Son of God, and therefore lives, and is the future arbiter of human destiny. Such a faith is not a fantasy, but a conviction resting on knowledge.
The knowledge would be more solid and powerful if it rested on the sight of the eyes. The great defect of our present position with regard to God appears to me to rest here, that we see nothing. Creation seems such a vast silent vacuum so far as living intelligence is concerned. It seems as if God, who is everywhere present, ought to be everywhere visible, everywhere audible. Instead of this, He is everywhere inaccessible to eye or ear. It would certainly be a great simplification of our religious life if God would speak to us and shew Himself.—My good friend, we must humbly take things as they are. We are only created beings. God holds the universe in Himself. We may be quite sure that His relation to us is right, whatever our short-sighted feelings may suggest to the contrary.
I must, of course, agree to that. At the same time, you cannot mean that it is right that the world should be full of darkness with regard to God. And you cannot deny that the manifestation of God would be the most effectual way of dispelling the darkness.—You speak truly on both heads, but who is to decide the best method of bringing the world out of darkness into light? If I were suggesting that the present state of things on earth were a finality, there would be room for the dissatisfaction implied in your words: but you are aware that God Himself has p. 142 declared His purpose to bring about a complete change—so complete as to amount to “new heavens” and new earth.” His pledge could not be more solemn and precise: “As truly as I live, all the earth shall be filled with the Glory of the Lord.” “All shall know Me, from the least even to the greatest.” With this in view, it ought to be easy for you to believe that the method employed by God in effecting the transition is the right one, even if you cannot see it.
I must of course admit, as a reasonable man, that the ways of God must be right, though they may often necessarily appear inscrutable to our finite minds. Still, I cannot help the thought that with all power at His command, He might have taken the world into light without this terrible preliminary chapter of darkness.—It is a false thought, you may be sure. There are more elements in the problem than we are liable to realize. One of the principal elements lies here: the mental relations of those who are to be the subject of final good. Our own happiness depends upon these, and God’s happiness in us depends upon them also. We receive a free and unconstrained volition. Our destiny must be wrought out in harmony with the operation of this. Yet this free volition must be freely subordinated to the Will of God upon the intelligent discernment of our mutual relations as Creator and created. It is a very delicate problem, how to reconcile the power and supremacy of God with the independence of created intelligence, without which there would lack the chief joy of the perfect state. This is the problem which God is working out. It involves the permission of human rebellion, and the consequence and prevalence of evil for a time; the withdrawal p. 143 of God from the open manifestion which you desire, and the operation of faith in the development of those who are to please Him, and who, when a sufficient number of them are developed, are to enter into everlasting joy in the unveiled presence of God upon the earth. In fact, the conditions which you bewail are the very conditions of the process which Divine Wisdom is carrying on for His own glory and the salvation of the world.
It is a beautiful theory of the matter, and, I suppose, it must be true.