Cloud of Witnesses
3 witnesses

Christianity and the Social Crisis; A Theology for the Social Gospel

Volume 3

THE INITIATOR OF THE KINGDOM OF GOD

The social gospel has an inherent interest in history. Individualistic theology sees everywhere countless sinful individuals who must all go through the same process of repentance, faith, justification, and regeneration, and who in due time die and go to heaven or hell. The historical age in which a person lived, or the social class or race to which he belonged, matters little. This religious point of view is above time and history. On the other hand the social gospel tries to see the progress of the Kingdom of God in the flow of history; not only in the doings of the Church, but in the clash of economic forces and social classes, in the rise and fall of despotisms and forms of enslavement, in the rise of new valuejudgments and fresh canons of moral taste and sentiment, or the elevation or decline of moral standards. Its chief interest is the Kingdom of God; and the Kingdom of God is history seen in a religious and teleological way. Therefore the social gospel is always historically minded. Its spread goes hand in hand with the spread of the historical spirit and method.

This dominant interest in the creation and progress of social redemption influences the approach to the theological problems of the person and work of Christ. We want to see the Christ who initiated the Kingdom of God. Theologians have always tried to make their christology match with their conception of salvation. If they believed salvation to consist chiefly in the knowledge of God, they emphasized the personality and the doctrine of Christ as the complete revelation of God. If they made salvation to consist chiefly in the mystic impartation of divine life and immortality, their christology laid chief stress on the union of the divine and human in the incarnation and in the sacraments. If salvation consists above all in the expiation of guilt, the forgiveness of sins, the justification of the sinner, and the remission of his penalties, then we need a Christ who made'atonement for our sins, rendered satisfaction to God for our delinquencies, and offset our guilty defects by his infinite merit and divine virtue. Each conception of salvation made a pragmatic selection and construction of the facts. Each was fragmentary, but without necessarily excluding other series of ideas. So now the social gospel, without excluding other theological convictions, demands to understand that Christ who set in motion the historical forces of redemption which are to overthrow the Kingdom of Evil.

This is surely not an illegitimate interest. It is a return to the earliest messianic theology; whereas some of the other christological interests and ideas are alien importations, part of that wave of *' Hellenization " which nearly swamped the original gospel.

Being historically minded and realistic in its interests,, the social gospel is less concerned in the metaphysical problems involved in the trinitarian and christological doctrines. The speculative problem of christological dogma was how the divine and human natures united in the one person of Christ; the problem of the social gospel is how the divine life of Christ can get control of human society. The social gospel is concerned about a progressive social incarnation of God.

The social gospel is believed by trinitarians and unitarians alike, by Catholic Modernists and Kansas Presbyterians of the most cerulean colour. It arouses a fresh and warm loyaltyTo' Christ wherever it goes, though not always a loyalty to the Church. All who believe in it are at one in desiring the spiritual sovereignty of Christ in humanity. Their attitude to the problems of the creeds will usually be determined by other influences.

Yet there are certain qualities in the social gospel which may create a feeling of apathy toward the speculative questions. It is modern and is out for realities. It is ethical and wants ethical results from theology. It is solidaristic and feels homesick in the atomistk desert of individualism.

The social gospel joins with all modern thought in the feeling that the old theology does not give us a Christ who is truly personal. Just as the human race, when it appears in theology, is an amorphous metaphysical conception which could be more briefly designated by an algebraic symbol, in the same way the personality of Jesus is not allowed to be real under theological influence. If it does stand out vital and resolute, it is in spite of theology and not because of it. Some of the greatest theologians, men who wrote epoch-making treatises about Christ, such as Athanasius, give no indication that the personahty of Jesus was live and real to them. When those who have been trained under the old religious beliefs come under the influence of historical teaching, the realization that Jesus was actually a person, and not merely part of a " scheme of redemption," often comes as a great and beneficent shock. He has been made part of a scheme of salvation, the second premise in a great syllogism. The social gospel wants to see a personality able to win hearts, dominate situations, able to bind men in loyalty and make them think like himself, and to set revolutionary social forces in motion.

Every event and saying in the life of Christ has, of course, been scanned intensely and used over and over for edification or theological proof. But in the main the theological significance of the life of Christ has been comprised in the incarnation, the atonement, and the resurrection. The life in general served mainly to connect and lead up to these great events, and to found the Church."^ The things in which Jesus himself was passionately interested and which he strove to accomplish, do not seem to count for much. The impartation of divine life and immortality to the race was accomplished when he was a babe. The atonement might actually have been frustrated if the life effort of Jesus had been

1 The treatment of his " work " under the three heads of prophet, priest, and king, which is an hereditary scheme in theology, seems antique and far-fetched. Moreover, his kingly office mainly begins with his resurrection. His kingly work in historical life has been treated with neglect.

successful, for if the Jews had accepted his spiritual leadership, they would not have killed him.

The social gospel would interpret all the events of his life, including his death, by the dominant purpose which he consistently followed, the establishment of the Kingdom of God. This is the only interpretation which would have appealed to himself. His life was what counted; his death was part of it. The historic current of salvation which went out from him is the prolongation of that life into which he put his conscious energy.

Theology has made the divinity of Christ a question of nature rather than character. His divinity was an inheritance or endowment which he brought with him and which was fixed for him in his pre-existent state. He was divine on account of what took place at one moment in the womb of one Jewish woman rather than on account of all that took place in the inner depths of his spirit when he communed with his Father and fought through the issues of his life. Theology has been on a false trail in seeking the key to his life in the difficult doctrine of the two natures. That doctrine has never been settled. The formula of Chalcedon was a compromise. Any attempt to think precisely about the question results in a caricature; safety lies in vagueness. We shall come closer to the secret of Jesus if we think less of the physical process of conception and more of the spiritual processes of desire, choice, affirmation, and selfsurrender within his own will and personality. The mysteries of the spiritual world take place within the will.

To repeat: The social gospel is not primarily interested in metaphysical questions; its christological inter- est is all for a real personality who could set a great historical process in motion; it wants his work interpreted by the purposes which ruled and directed his active life; it would have more interest in basing the divine quality of his personality on free and ethical acts of his will than in dwelling on the passive inheritance of a divine essence.

The fundamental first step in the salvation of mankind was the achievement of the personality of Jesus. Within him the Kingdom of God got its first foothold in humanity. It was by virtue of his personality that he became the initiator of the Kingdom.

His personality was an achievement, not an effortless inheritance. His temptations and struggles were not stage-combats. At every point of his life he had to see his way through the tangle of moral questions which invited to errors and misjudgments; his clarity of judgment was an achievement. Not only in the desert but all the way he had to re-affirm his unity with the will of God and make all aims subservient to the Kingdom of God. The inclination early set in to eliminate the element of temptation, of effort, of vigorous action and reaction, and to show him calm, majestic, omniscient, the effortless master of all forces. This was supposed to be the proper demonstration of divinity in human form; in fact it was a demonstration of feeble imagination and of Gnostic tendencies in his interpreters. Possibly God might be revealed in a life wholly placid and complete; certainly the Kingdom of God could not be initiated by such a life, for the Kingdom of God means battle. In all other cases we judge the ethical worth of a man by the character he achieves by will and effort. If he has any unusual outfit of nature we deduct it in our estimate. How can we claim high ethical value for the personality and character of Jesus if no effort of will was necessary to achieve it?

Jesus lived out his own life. Like every other Ego he existed for himself as well as for others. He was asserting and defending his right to be himself when he stood up for others. The problems of human life were not simply official problems to him, but personal problems. But unlike others, he did not fall into the sin of selfishness, because he succeeded in uniting the service of the common good with the affirmation of his selfhood.

The personality which he achieved was a new type in humanity. Having the power to master and assimilate others, it became the primal cell of a new social organism. Even if there had been no sin from which mankind had to be redeemed, the life of Jesus would have dated an epoch in the evolution of the race by the introduction of a new type of consequent new social standards. He is the real revelation of God. Other conceptions have to be outlived; his has to be attained.

In the words of one of the most personal and original idealistic philosophers: " The consciousness of the

absolute unity of the human and the divine life is the profoundest insight possible to man. Before Jesus it did not exist. Since his time, we might say to this day, it has been almost lost again, at least in secular philosophy. Jesus evidently had this insight. How did he
get it? There is nothing very wonderful in rediscovering the truth after another man has found the way; but how the first, separated by ages before and after by the sole possession of this insight, obtained it, this is matter for profound wonder. Therefore it is really true that Jesus of Nazareth, in a unique way, true of no other, is the only begotten and first born Son of God, and that all ages, if they are capable of understanding him at all, must recognize him as such. It is true enough that now any man can rediscover this doctrine in the writings of the apostles and appropriate it in his own convictions. It is also true, and we assert it, that the philosopher, — as far as he knows, — discovers the same truths independently of Christianity, and sees them with a clearness and breadth of vision which traditional Christianity can not match. Yet it remains for ever true that we, our entire age, and all our philosophical investigations are based on Christianity, and our thinking proceeds from it; that this Christian faith has entered in the most manifold ways into our entire culture; and that we all would not be what we are, unless this powerful principle had preceded us historically. It remains incontestably true that all those who since Jesus have arrived at union with God, have attained it only through him and by his mediation. Thus in every way it is confirmed that to the end of time all wise men will bow before this Jesus of Nazareth, and the more of life they have themselves, the more humbly will they acknowledge the exceeding glory of this great personality." ^

1 Johann Gottlieb Fichte, " Die Anweisung zum seligen Leben," Lecture VI. 1806. The translation is mine.

Jesus experienced God in a new way. The ethical monotheism which he inherited from the prophets was transformed within his spirit and through his experiences into something far loveHer and kinder. Jehovah, the keeper of covenants and judge of his people, was changed into the Father in heaven who forgives sins freely, welcomes the prodigal, makes his sun to shine on the just and unjust,~and asks for nothing but love, trust, and cooperative obedience. This intuition of God was born in a life that neither hated nor feared, and so far as it is adopted in any single life or in the life of humanity, it banishes hate and fear. An overpowering consciousness of God is needed in order to offset and overcome the tyranny of the sensuous life and its temptations. This consciousness of God which we derive from Jesus is able to establish centres of spiritual strength and peace which help to break the free sweep of evil in social life. Jesus set love into the centre of the spiritual universe, and all life is illuminated from that centre. This is the highest idealistic faith ever conceived, and the greatest addition ever made to the spiritual possessions of mankind. With such a Father spiritual intimacy is possible. With a despotic God prayer is a series of court obeisances and a secret fencing for personal independence. But given such a God as Jesus knew, and the consciousness of him would steal in everywhere and envelop all life in peace. It made righteousness a joy and sin repulsive. Any one who has ever been under a clear and happy realization of God will remember how spontaneous goodness becomes.

So we have in Jesus a perfect religious personality, a Spiritual life completely filled by the realization of a God who is love. All his mind was set on God and one with him. Consequently it was also absorbed in the fundamental purpose of God, the Kingdom of God. Like the idea of God, the conception of the Kingdom was both an inheritance and a creation of Jesus; he received it and transformed it in accordance with his consciousness of God. Within his mind the punitive and imperialistic elements were steeped out of it, and the elements of love and solidarity were dyed into it. The Reign of God came to mean the organized fellowship of humanity acting under the impulse of love.

By virtue of this consciousness of God Jesus rose above three temptations which have beset other religious spirits.

The first temptation is mysticism. Those who have been initiated into the secret inner way of God, and have experienced the sweetness of losing self in the all-comprehending and holy Life, are tempted to turn in high disdain from the small and material contacts and duties which bind the soul on the wheel that ever revolves and never gets anywhere, and to seek the tranquillity and forgetfulness of mystic absorption. This is one of the temptations of the noblest souls.

Jesus was not a mystic in the narrower sense of the escape from the world. He is our great example of prayer and of intimate communion with God. But the Kingdom of God engaged his will and set his task in the midst of men. He drew his strength from God, but he put it forth in the world. The Kingdom of God put di- vine significance into all his minor duties and saved life from religious disdain. We all know the common statue of Buddha, with his hands relaxed and inactive in his lap, his eyes unseeing and visionary, his lips in the smile of mystic contentment. We can not see Jesus so.

The second temptation is pessimism. Religion creates a profound sense of the evil in life. Those whose ears are attuned to hear the deepest organ note of the universe, hear a groan of travail from the under deep. Consequently pessimism has been the sombre habitation of many noble religious minds from Buddha to Schopenhauer. The dualism of the first century, both philosophical and religious, was an expression of pessimism. Christianity was sucked thigh-deep into this quicksand. Its earliest speculative theologians, the Gnostics, were so pessimistic that to them the creation of the world was a blunder or a crime, and the Creator-God of Judaism got no reverence from them for perpetrating this world.

Jesus was not a pessimist. Since God was love, this world was to him fundamentally good. He realized not only evil but the Kingdom of Evil; but he launched the Kingdom of God against it, and staked his life on its triumph. His faith in God and in the Kingdom of God constituted him a religious optimist. Even when his life was overshadowed by opposition, seeming failure, and death, his prevailing temper was not melancholy, but youthful and triumphant. He had no use for the studied melancholy of periodical fasting. Why should his friends fast? They were having a wedding time. Why pour the new wine of gladness into the old sad bottles, and why sew a new patch on a garment that was dropping to pieces?

The third temptation of religious spirits is asceticism and other-worldHness. Both are related to pessimism. The monk repudiates the social life which tempts him, scours the stains of worldliness from his soul by spiritual exercises, wears the earthly integument thin by hunger and castigation, and enjoys the other world by anticipation whenever angels visit him or he has a vision of divine glory. All Christians who yearn to escape from this vale of tears and whose life is really set on another world, are to that extent pessimistic. The asceticism and other-worldliness of ancient and mediaeval Christianity were results of its " Hellenization," as Harnack calls it. It took a thousand years of history, great social and intellectual changes, and an unparalleled religious revolution to set Christianity even partly free from these influences of its early Greek and Oriental environment.

Jesus was neither ascetic nor other-worldly. He formulated the distinctive difference between himself and John the Baptist in the saying that John ate not and drank not, while he himself ate and drank, and quoted the critics who called him a glutton and wine-bibber. He believed in a life after death, but it was not the dominant element in his teaching, nor the constraining force in his religious life. There are sayings in the gospels which are ascetic, and more that are apocalyptic; but Jesus, I believe, was neither. In so far as these sayings were really his own, their ideas were part of the equipment furnished him by his age and religion; they were not the essential products of his life. His mind was not at all of the same family type as those who wrote and re-wrote the apocalyptic literature. He fasted when he was absorbed in thought; so did Socrates; so do others. He went without food, sleep, and home-life because he was set on a big thing. This is the revolutionary asceticism of the Kingdom of God, but that is wholly different from the individualistic and other-worldly asceticism of the Nitrian desert.

My own conviction is that the professional theologians of Europe, who all belong by kinship and sympathy to the bourgeois classes and are constitutionally incapacitated for understanding any revolutionary ideas, past or present, have overemphasized the ascetic and eschatological elements in the teachings of Jesus. They have classed as ascetic or apocalyptic the radical sayings about property and non-resistance which seem to them unpractical or visionary. If the present chastisement of God purges our intellects of capitalistic and upper-class iniquities, we shall no longer damn these sayings by calling them eschatological, but shall exhibit them as anticipations of the fraternal ethics of democracy and prophecies of social common sense.

Jesus communed with God; he realized the evil in the world; and he held his life with a light grasp. Yet he escaped the noble temptations of religion contained in mysticism, pessimism, asceticism, and other-worldliness. Out of the same ingredients, communion with God, realization of evil, and religious intensity and self-control, he built a higher synthesis. His attitude to life was the direct product of his twofold belief, in the Father who is love and the Kingdom of God which is righteousness. Mediaeval Christianity, which was mystic, ascetic, and other-worldly, was not built on his synthesis. On the other hand the social gospel can be. His affirmation of life is the ideal basis for the social gospel. No religion involving the negation of life is really compatible with it. It remains to be seen whether anything like the social gospel can make headway in Buddhistic countries; and if it does, whether it will not transform the old Buddhism.

His communion with God and his devotion to the Kingdom of God set Jesus free and also bound him. They freed him from the conservatism of inherited religion and from the coercion of the social order; they bound him to a life of obedience and to the utter service of men. The harmony of these antinomies is one of the distinctive qualities of his personality.

He was a loyal son of his nation, a believer in its traditions and its worth, and we know how deeply he was moved by his foresight of its disaster. His religious life was inseparable from that of his nation. There were no novel or alien elements in it, as with Paul or Philo, which might have laid the basis for departures. He never cut loose from the religion of his fathers, and never told his followers to leave the synagogue and found the Church. He was no come-outer.

But he had a higher law and allegiance within him. In so far as the religious customs of Judaism conflicted with his consciousness of God or with the reign of love, he broke with them. He contravened the Sabbath regu-

l6o A THEOLOGY FOR THE SOCIAL GOSPEL.

lations when they inflicted suffering or interfered with acts of mercy. He set aside the entire principle of clean and unclean food because it had no ethical truth in it. The Sermon on the Mount was a deliberate declaration that the old moral law was insufficient and that new ethical standards were needed for the new era. His invective against the scribes and Pharisees repudiated, not only the clerical " system " which was exploiting religion, but the models, definitions, and casuistry of current theology. Aside from his action of cleansing *' the house of prayer " from the chatter of the market, he scarcely mentioned the temple and its sacrifices, except to rank them below love and reconciliation. Ceremonial acts were not the proper expression of his consciousness of God. He realized religion in acts expressing love and fellowship, or in breaking with the Kingdom of Evil. Under his teaching the burden of time, expense and routine through which religious men sought to appease God's anger or court his favour, dropped away. If God was love, why these doings? " The Gentiles think they shall be heard for their many-worded prayers; be not like them; your Father knows."

Such a change of attitude toward the ritual institutions of religion, when it has become common, has availed to purge the religion of whole nations of its nonethical inheritances; it has reinforced the progressive elements of society by turning the energies of religion from the maintenance of conservative institutions to the support of movements for political emancipation and social justice. Such a change in religion inaugurates new eras in history.

Now, such changes, when they have happened, have been due in part to a renaissance of this attitude of esus. In the case of the Protestant Reformation it was mainly due to a revival of Paul's attitude of freedom over against the Law. But Paul's freedom was one of the treasures v/hich he derived from Christ.

With Jesus this spiritual attitude toward the religious customs of his people was the consistent outworking of his consciousness of God and of his conception of the reign of God. In making his stand on each of the points which brought him into conflict, he was achieving his own personality.

The God whom Jesus bore within him was not the God of one nation. The reign of God which he meant to establish was not a new imperialism with the chosen people on the top of the pile. The gospels show us Jesus in the act of crossing the racial boundary lines and outgrowing nationalistic religion. He recognized the religious qualities in a pagan; he foresaw that the Kingdom of God would cut across the old lines of division; he held up the hyphenated and heretical Samaritan as a model of humane kindness. Every time a wider contact was offered him, he seized it with a sense of exultation, like the discoverer of a new continent. That world-wide consciousness of humanity, which is coming to some in protest against the hideous disruption and hatred of the War, was won by Jesus at less cost under the tuition of God and the Kingdom ideal.

Jesus lived in a world of high thought and set his face toward the greatest of all aims. But he talked peace- fully with simple people, and was impatient when his friends did not want him annoyed by children. He was valorous, fearless, an outdoor man, and an invincible fighter. But he was so tender to the sick and so comradely with the poor that " Christlike " has remained one of the aristocratic adjectives in our language, and men like Saint Francis, who followed him and grew like him, have stood out as the beloved souls, the rare flowers of esoteric humanity.

He was a proud spirit who lived out his own life and asserted himself against all the weight of authority, against his king, against the supreme court of his nation, against Moses, against professional theology and the lawyer caste, against the power of custom, against his home community, against his own mother. But he had a thirst for friendship, an unfailing insight into the subtler motives and longings of men and women, a thrilling responsiveness to the emotions of masses of men, and an unexampled sense of the sacredness of personality.

He bowed to law and order. He paid his taxes, and advised others to do it. He sent a leper to the proper officer to get his sanitary certificate. But he had no spiritual awe for the exponents of the present social order. He challenged its moral basis. He dropped into the silence of a passive resister when he faced a typical court, and he was felt then and ever since as a force against despotism.

The personality of Jesus is a call to the emancipation of our own personalities. He has multiplied free souls. Every such soul counts in the progress of mankind. They are rare. They are most effective in the redemption of society when they are free from the acrid qualities of rebelHon. Those who have derived their spiritual freedom and their social spirit from Jesus are most likely to have the combination of freedom with love and gentleness. This ought to be the distinctive mark of Christ within the social movement. Is it true that Jesus has been experienced as a Liberator more frequently apart from theology than within it? If so, why?

To think out any one of these convictions, or to achieve any one of these harmonies, so that all life can become simple, whole-hearted, and divinely intelligible through its truth, is a great achievement for a life-time. Luther was one of the most dynamic personalities in history, one of the epoch-making religious minds. Yet it took him years of morbid struggle to emerge from the gloom of religious fear into Christian assurance, and to cut across the labyrinth of church methods by the shortcut of simple faith. And after achieving this discovery, he imposed his emancipating faith on others as a sovereign formula, and would not let others advance beyond the point he had reached. With Jesus these great inward convictions were not academic theory, but life and action. They were the reality on which he staked all. They were so much his own that he acted on them as a matter of course, with a self-possession which did not have to weigh and consider, but struck ahead, and struck right.

In the case of biological mutations the question is not only whether the new type is valuable, but also whether it will breed true and succeed in perpetuating itself against the competition of other types. Jesus not only achieved the kind of religious personality which we have tried to bring before our memory and imagination, but he succeeded in perpetuating his spirit. What was personal with him became social within the group of the disciples. His life became a collective and assimilating force and a current of historic tradition.

His disciples were human stuff, and all of them doubtless were thin conductors for the powerful current they had to convey. His Jewish friends were full of older ideas, and most of them seem to have sagged back toward conservative Judaism. Luke's narrative about Peter and Stephen, and Paul's profound trouble of mind about the Judaizing brethren are evidence. As soon as the Church moved out into the Greek world, a process of assimilation began which left little of the real Jesus in sight. The historical research of the last forty years has written a new chapter about the sufferings of Jesus. Imagine him coming into a Gnostic conventicle in a. d. 150, or into the Church of Cyprian in a. d. 250, or into high mass at the Church of the Lateran in a. d. 1250, and trying to discover what it was all about.

And yet he survived. He has come through to this day with his thought and his personality still vital, sui generis, and far ahead of our day. Whenever his spirit has been embodied again in a striking degree in some individual, people have gathered around that man, hungry for salvation. Any man in whom the Jesus-strain reappears clearly is felt to be a kind of superman. If Tolstoi, for instance, had never begun to follow Christ in his life, he would be simply one of a group of brilliant Russian novelists. Since he received something of the mind of Jesus into his mind, he became one of the prophetic figures of our age and no one can tell how much he contributed, through others, to enable Russia, newly free, to make the one sincere and penetrating utterance made on behalf of democracy and peace in the Spring and Summer of 191 7. In the same way those religious movements in which the distinctive ideas and spirit of Jesus have broken forth again, have been the fruitful and prophetic movements in religion. Their power of attack can best be measured by the ferocity with which the Kingdom of Evil has trampled on them.

The Kingdom of God is not a concept nor an ideal merely, but an historical force. It is a vital and organizing energy now at work in humanity. Its capacity to save the social order depends on its pervasive presence within the social organism. Every institutional foothold gained gives a purchase for attacking the next vantage-point. Where a really Christian type of religious life is created, the intellect and its education are set free, and this in turn aids religion to emancipate itself from superstition and dogmatism. Where religion and intellect combine, the foundation is laid for political democracy. Where the people have the outfit and the spirit of democracy, they can curb economic exploitation. Where predatory gain and the resultant inequality are lessened, fraternal feeling and understanding become easier and the sense of solidarity grows. Where men live in the consciousness of solidarity and in the actual practice of love with their fellow-men, they are not far from the Kingdom of God. The great thing in the salvation of humanity is that salvation is present. Life begets life.

Yet it is a matter of unspeakable difficulty for the Kingdom of God to make headway against the inherent weakness of human nature and the social entrenchments of the Kingdom of Evil. " The risks of temporary disaster which great ideals run, appear to be directly proportioned to the value of the ideals. Great truths bear long sorrows." ^ The more we do justice to this fact, the more we shall realize that the initiation and perpetuation of the historical movement of redemption was the essential thing. Jesus was the initiator. To show this more and more clearly is the service the social gospel asks of doctrinal and historical theology. By this avenue of approach we shall appreciate the human dimensions of Jesus. The individualistic theology was the creation of men with little historical training and historical consciousness, and to that extent the problems they set were the product of uneducated minds. The full greatness of the problem of Jesus strikes us when we see him in his connection with human history. Our own consciousness of God's love and forgiveness, our inward freedom, our social feeling, the set of our will toward the achievement of the Kingdom of God, our fellowship with the '* two or three " in which we have a realization of the higher presence, we owe to our connection with the historical force which Jesus initiated. Where did he himself get what he had? At what fountain did he drink?

THE INITIATOR OF THE KINGDOM OF GOD — Christianity and the Social Crisis; A Theology for the Social Gospel · Walter Rauschenbusch · Cloud of Witnesses