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

And he entered and was passing through Jericho. And behold, a man called by name Zacchæus; and he was a chief publican, and he was rich. And he sought to see Jesus who he was; and could not for the crowd, because he was little of stature. And he ran on before, and climbed up into a sycomore tree to see him: for he was to pass that way. And when Jesus came to the place, he looked up, and said unto him, Zacchæus, make haste, and come down; for to-day I must abide at thy house. And he made haste, and came down, and received him joyfully. And when they saw it, they all murmured, saying, He is gone in to lodge with a man that is a sinner. And Zacchæus stood, and said unto the Lord, Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor; and if I have wrongfully exacted aught of any man, I restore fourfold. And Jesus said unto him, To-day is salvation come to this house, forasmuch as he also is a son of Abraham. For the Son of man came to seek and to save that which was lost.—Luke 19:1-10.

Zacchæus was engaged in the profitable but shady business of farming the Roman taxing system in one of the richest districts of Palestine. He was a politician and business man combined, and the kind of man that is “bound to land.” Being only five feet one he had no chance amid a crowd in a narrow street watching a procession. So he climbed a tree. Imagine a corporation president climbing a telegraph post to see Jesus! This spirit of determination appealed to Jesus and he promptly made friends with him, though he well knew he would lose some more of his reputation by identifying himself with a publican. Zacchæus proved his fitness for the Kingdom of God by parting with his accumulated graft at a single sweep. Fifty per cent of his property given away outright; the balance used to make restitution at the rate of four hundred per cent—how much was left? Here a camel passed through the needle’s eye, and Jesus stood and cheered.

At what points is the moral energy of college men and women most severely tested? Where do they meet their great spiritual decisions?

And he spake a parable unto them to the end that they ought always to pray, and not to faint; saying, There was in a city a judge, who feared not God, and regarded not man: and there was a widow in that city; and she came oft unto him, saying, Avenge me of mine adversary. And he would not for a while: but afterward he said within himself, Though I fear not God, nor regard man; yet because this widow troubleth me, I will avenge her, lest she wear me out by her continual coming. And the Lord said, Hear what the unrighteous judge saith. And shall not God avenge his elect, that cry to him day and night, and yet he is longsuffering over them?—Luke 18:1-7.

In most of his sayings on prayer Jesus either objected to the wordiness of prayers (Matt. 6:5-13), or he demanded more will and persistence. In the story of the widow and the judge the odds were against the widow. Being only a widow she had no pull and no vote. The judge was frankly a tough case, untouched by religion and conscience, and thick-skinned as to public opinion. Yet the widow won out by sheer doggedness. Surely the mind that sketched the reiterating widow and the collapsing politician had an admiring eye for energy of action. Jesus wanted that spirit and determination put into prayer. But note that he was thinking, not of personal edification, nor of private benefits to be obtained, but of the “avenging of God’s elect”; that is, of straightening out the affairs of the world so that the wrongs of the righteous would be redressed. A keen social consciousness about the condition of God’s people, coupled with “hunger and thirst for justice,” can turn prayer into action.

Have we any experience of prayer concentrated on great public evils? How does that differ from prayers centering about our own interests? (See Fosdick, “The Meaning of Prayer,” Chapter X.)

And as ye go, preach, saying, The kingdom of heaven is at hand. Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons: freely ye received, freely give. Get you no gold; nor silver, nor brass in your purses: no wallet for your journey, neither two coats, nor shoes, nor staff: for the laborer is worthy of his food. And into whatsoever city or village ye shall enter, search out who in it is worthy; and there abide till ye go forth.... And whosoever shall not receive you, nor hear your words, as ye go forth out of that house or that city, shake off the dust of your feet. Verily I say unto you, It shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment, than for that city.... And be not afraid of them that kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul.—Matt. 10:7-11, 14-15, 28a.

This whole chapter expresses with immense vitality the heroic spirit called forth by the Kingdom propaganda. Jesus sent these twelve men through the villages of Galilee to duplicate and multiply what he was doing. The natural leaders of society, the able, the educated, the powerful, were concerned in setting up their own kingdom and enslaving their fellows to serve them. So Jesus took what material he had, peasants and fishermen, and created a new leadership. He flung them against existing society, knowing well that they would have to face opposition. In fact, they were destined, one by one, to go to death for their cause. He tells them not to mind a little thing like death, but to do their work and rally the people around the idea of the Reign of God.

Can the men and women who are today trying to rebuild human society on a basis of social justice and fraternity claim any right of succession in the sending of the Twelve?

But who is there of you, having a servant plowing or keeping sheep, that will say unto him, when he is come in from the field, Come straightway and sit down to meat; and will not rather say unto him, Make ready wherewith I may sup, and gird thyself, and serve me, till I have eaten and drunken; and afterward thou shalt eat and drink? Doth he thank the servant because he did the things that were commanded? Even so ye also, when ye shall have done all the things that are commanded you, say, We are unprofitable servants; we have done that which it was our duty to do.—Luke 17:7-10.

Jesus often boldly took his illustrations from the facts of life even when they were repellent to him. Here he holds up the joyless life of a Syrian agricultural laborer. After plodding all day in the field, this man comes home, tired and hungry. Is he promptly cared for? No, he must first cook and serve his master’s meal. Then he can eat what’s left. Does he get any thanks for working overtime? Not a thank. Now, says Jesus, what this man does under the hard coercion of his lot, you and I must do of our own free will. After we have done a man’s work, let us go and do some more for the sake of the cause, and disclaim praise. That spirit of utter service is, in fact, the spirit in which men work when the Kingdom vision gets hold of them. They become greedy for work and can not satisfy themselves. The strong and inspired men always feel at the end that they have not done half they ought to have done. The last words of Martin Luther, scribbled on a scrap of paper, were: “We are beggars. That’s true.”

What would Jesus say to a college student who is chronically tired and who feels that he is laying his professors and his father under heavy obligation by working at all?

Study for the Week

Is it not a strange fate that down to the most recent times art has pictured Jesus all meek and gentle, and theology has emphasized his passive suffering? Yet he was high-power energy. His epigrams and hyperboles crack like a whip-lash. He was up before dawn. He always rose to the sight of human need. To do the will of his Father was meat and drink to him. His life was a combat. He faced opposition without flinching and “stedfastly set his face to go up to Jerusalem” when he knew it meant death. Even when he stood silent before the court and when he hung nailed to the gallows, he was a spiritual force in action and men were disturbed and afraid before him.

He communicated energy to others. He hated mere talk and discouraged fruitless theorizing. He praised energetic action when he found it, as in the case of Zacchæus, and of the men who climbed the roof with a paralytic man and dug up the roofing to let him down to Jesus. He called that sort of thing “faith.” Faith, in Jesus’ use of the word, did not mean shutting your eyes and folding your hands. He said it was an explosive that could remove mountains. He gave three of his disciples nicknames, and they were all given to express forcefulness; Simon he called Peter, the Rock; and James and John he called Boanerges, the sons of thunder. He sent his disciples open-eyed to face trouble; he told them the wolves were waiting for them, but to rejoice and be exceeding glad for the chance of lining up against them. Let us clear our minds forever of the idea that Jesus was a mild and innocuous person who parted his hair and beard in the middle, and turned his disciples into mollycoddles. Away with it!

Though the spirit of Jesus has never had more than half a chance in historic Christianity, yet it is demonstrable that the total efficiency of humanity, the bulk of work done, and the capacity for heroic tension of energies have been greatly increased by it. Taking it on the smallest scale—every real conversion means a break with debasing habits, with alcoholism, with the waste of sexual energies; it means more self-control, more responsiveness to duty, more capacity to take a long outlook, and consequently better work. We can observe this in ourselves and others. We still need the coercion of stern necessity and of public opinion to keep us straight, but an inward compulsion is added. A Christian carries his policeman around inside of him. Where Christianity gets a really firm hold on men or women, especially if there is a basis of natural ability, it pushes them on to lead in moral movements and they break away for human progress.

When Christianity multiplies such cases, and makes soberness, duty, and hard work the habit of entire communities, we have a social fact of first-class importance; for the human animal is naturally lazy, sluggish, and inclined to live for today. The capacity to subordinate immediate gratification for a future good is scarce; the capacity to subordinate selfish advantage to a great common and moral good is scarcer still.

We can see this force working on a larger scale on the foreign mission field where Christianity is a new social energy. There it is easier to disentangle it from other social forces. What are the comparative results when it gets a lodgment in a single social class or tribal group? This question will bear watching during the next fifty years. The full social results of Christianity will not show till the third generation.

We get another demonstration of increased working efficiency in humanity wherever Christianity has passed through an internal purification which has set free more of its spiritual energies. What, for instance, has been the historic connection between the development of capitalistic industry in Holland, England, and France, and the sober and frugal piety and patient laboriousness created in the Calvinists of Holland, the Puritans of England, and the Huguenots of France?

The contributions made by Christianity to the working efficiency and the constructive social abilities of humanity in the past have been mainly indirect. The main aim set before Christians was to save their souls from eternal woe, to have communion with God now and hereafter, and to live God-fearing lives. It was individualistic religion, concentrated on the life to come. Its social effectiveness was largely a by-product. What, now, would have been the result if Christianity had placed an equally strong emphasis on the Kingdom of God, the ideal social order? Other things being equal, a Christian father and mother are better parents than others because they have more sense of duty, more love, and a higher valuation of spiritual things. But if, in addition, they have a religious desire for a higher social order and realize that noble children are a splendid contribution to it, how will that affect their parenthood? A teacher, artist, or scientist who is also a religious man, will do conscientious work if he works under the motives of individualistic religion. But if he has a vision of the Kingdom of God on earth and sees the contributions he can make to it, will not that raise the character of his output? A business man of strong Christian character will work hard, keep his word in business, and deal fairly with employes and customers. But would not a new direction be given to his moral energies if his religion taught him that he must help to shape the workings of industry and trade so that hereafter there will be no fundamental clash between business and the morals of Christianity?

What the world of Christian men and women needs is to have a great social objective set before them and laid on their conscience with the authority of religion. Then religion would get behind social evolution in earnest.

This would be no new and foreign element imported into our religion. It would be a modern revival of the doctrine of Jesus himself, which has been too long submerged and neglected. One chief reason why it was side-tracked is that no despotic State and no society dominated by a predatory class ever wanted religion applied to a reconstruction of the social order. The idea of the Kingdom of God reawoke with the rise of modern democracy. Now is the time for it.

The idea of the Kingdom of God is not identified with any special social theory. It means justice, freedom, fraternity, labor, joy. Let each social system and movement show us what it can contribute and we will weigh its claims. We want the old ideal defined in modern terms, in the terms of modern democracy, of the power machine, of international peace, and of evolutionary science. But we want to embrace it with the old religious faith and ardor, so that we can pray over it.

This great task of establishing a righteous social life on earth embraces all minor tasks in so far as they are good. The mother who tries to make a good home, the farmer who feeds the people, the teacher who trains them, the scientist who gets the facts for all, the merchant, the workingman, the artist, the leader in play—they are all contributing to the Kingdom, provided they view their work so, and are trying to put an evolutionary plus into it which will lift the total nearer to the divine will. The Kingdom is the supreme task, and all small tasks are part of it. That gives every man a place in it who works—where is the idler’s place in it?—and it hallows all good work with religious glory.

It may seem as if this social aim of religion may depreciate the aim of developing our own personality and of saving our souls. It ought not. Sometimes it does for a time. But we are each so enormously important to ourselves that we are not likely to forget ourselves, and the practical struggle with temptation and sorrow will teach us to seek strength for our personal needs from Christ. In time we shall learn to say with Jesus, “For their sakes I sanctify myself, that they also may be sanctified.” In time surrender to the Kingdom ideal, toil for it, self-denial for it, cooperation with others for it, will have the strongest kind of reactions on ourselves and our moral fiber. Gymnasium work is all right, but real work in the open is better. We are most durably saved by putting in hard work for the Kingdom of God.

In every great task a religious man is consciously thrown back on the aid of God—most of all in the greatest task of all. Eternal powers are cooperating with our puny efforts. That alone guarantees that our work is not wasted. We plant and water, but unless God’s sun shines upon it, our work is nothing. He is a fool that is not reverent and humble. We sorely need this faith in the collaboration and patience of God today when so much of the best spiritual achievement of mankind is swept away, and we seem far away from a kingdom of love. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

Here, then, we have another social principle of Jesus. A collective moral ideal is a necessity for the individual and the race. Every man must have a conscious determination to help in his own place to work out a righteous social order for and with God. The race must increasingly turn its own evolution into a conscious process. It owes that duty to itself and to God who seeks an habitation in it. It must seek to realize its divine destiny. “Thy kingdom come! Thy will be done on earth as it is done in heaven!” This is the conscious evolutionary program of Jesus. It combines religion, social science, and ethical action in a perfect synthesis.

What has this to say to students? Everything, it seems.

First, whatever is to be our particular job, we must relate it to the supreme common task at which God and all good men are working. Unless we see and assert that relation, we are mere day-laborers or slaves, with neither intelligence nor enthusiasm.

Second, anyone who, instead of loyally relating his life-work to God’s work, pursues his own ambition at the expense of the Kingdom and damages it to make profit for himself, is like a man who takes pay to damage his country. He makes the work harder for all who are more faithful than he, and their blood will be upon him.

Third, “noblesse oblige.” If we belong to the republic of learning and education, something extra is justly due from us. Here, for instance, is the evangelization of the world in this generation. An organization has been created to accomplish it. Heroic pioneers have died, preparing the way for larger forces. Is our life fit and good enough to put into that? Here is the Christianization of the social order in the next two generations. What have all our social studies been for in the design of God? To fit ourselves for exploiting our fellows or to show them the way to the Kingdom of God?

1. How far is a person who produces nothing, of use to the community? Is increase of productive efficiency the test of progress?

2. Does religion help to call out reserves of energy in human nature?

1. How far did Jesus give evidence of audacity and high power energy? Has the Christian Church realized this? How about the portrayals of him in art?

2. Furnish evidence that Jesus demanded sincere work. How was this connected with the Kingdom of God in his mind?

3. Give proof that he demanded heroism of his followers as a commonplace thing.

4. How did this temper affect his view of prayer?

III. Christianity and Work

1. Has Christianity ever promoted idleness? If so, what type of Christianity was it?

2. Taken as a whole has Christianity increased the amount of work done, or lessened it? Give historical proof.

3. Would it raise the economic efficiency of an African tribe to become Christians? Would it raise the efficiency of the Mexican people if they adopted a purer type of Christianity? How?

4. Where is the idler’s place in the Kingdom of God?

IV. The Reenforcement of Christianity by the Kingdom Ideal

1. Is a call to be converted a call to enjoy spiritual peace or to exert spiritual energy?

2. How has the idea arisen that Christianity is a "dope" to make people contented amid wrong conditions?

3. How would the Kingdom faith give religious quality to the plain man’s job?

4. Other things being equal, has a religious man more or less fighting energy against wrong than a non-religious man?

5. If a man passes from an individualistic to a social conception of religion, what change will it make in moral action?

6. To what extent is the enterprise of the Kingdom of God a dynamic expression of accepted sociological principles?

7. What is the special obligation of college men and women to the Kingdom of God?

1. Is the Kingdom of God to be brought about by an act of God in the future or by the work of men in the present? Does the one exclude the other?

2. Does our social order call out the full energy and intelligence of the working people?

3. Can an overworked and underpaid workman feel that he is working for the Kingdom of God?

4. Does the Kingdom of God necessarily involve elements of social readjustment and change?

5. Would a predatory governing class in the past have allowed the preaching of a social conception of the Kingdom of God?

Every approximation to the Reign of God in humanity demands an advance in the social relations of men, that is, an advance in ethics. Every really epochal advance must have it or slip back. There must be, first, better obedience to the moral principles already recognized and accepted by society; second, an expansion of the sway of ethical duty to new fields and wider groups of humanity; and third, a recognition of new duties and the assimilation of new and higher ethical conceptions.

To what extent did Jesus appreciate these supreme needs?

In the high-priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came unto John the son of Zacharias in the wilderness. And he came into all the region round about the Jordan, preaching the baptism of repentance unto remission of sins; as it is written in the book of the words of Isaiah the prophet,

The voice of one crying in the wilderness, Make ye ready the way of the Lord, Make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, And every mountain and hill shall be brought low; And the crooked shall become straight, And the rough ways smooth; And all flesh shall see the salvation of God.

He said therefore to the multitudes that went out to be baptized of him, Ye offspring of vipers, who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bring forth therefore fruits worthy of repentance, and begin not to say within yourselves, We have Abraham to our father: for I say unto you, that God is able of these stones to raise up children unto Abraham. And even now the axe also lieth at the root of the trees: every tree therefore that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire.—Luke 3:2-9.

The ABC of social renewal and moral advance is for each of us to face our sins sincerely and get on a basis of frankness with God and ourselves. Therefore Christianity set out with a call for personal repentance. If we only acted up to what we know to be right, this world would be a different place. But we fool ourselves with protective coloring devices in order to keep our own self-respect. Take our language, for instance; it reeks with evasive euphemisms intended to make nasty sins look prettier. We call stealing “swiping” and cheating “cribbing.” When we have been drunk we say we were “squiffy.” As soon as we face the facts, we realize that what we call peccadilloes in ourselves are the black sins that have slain the innocents and have hag ridden humanity through all its history. That is the beginning of social vision. Personal repentance is a social advance.

What equivalent have college men and women for the plea of the Pharisees that they were Abraham’s children and had a pull with God?

And behold, a certain lawyer stood up and made trial of him, saying, Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life? And he said unto him, What is written in the law? how readest thou? And he answering said, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbor as thyself. And he said unto him, Thou hast answered right: this do, and thou shalt live. But he, desiring to justify himself, said unto Jesus, And who is my neighbor? Jesus made answer and said, A certain man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho; and he fell among robbers, who both stripped him and beat him, and departed, leaving him half dead. And by chance a certain priest was going down that way: and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. And in like manner a Levite also, when he came to the place, and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he was moved with compassion, and came to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring on them oil and wine; and he set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. And on the morrow he took out two shillings, and gave them to the host, and said, Take care of him; and whatsoever thou spendest more, I, when I come back again, will repay thee. Which of these three, thinkest thou, proved neighbor unto him that fell among the robbers? And he said, He that showed mercy on him. And Jesus said unto him, Go, and do thou likewise.—Luke 10:25-37.

A meaty story and a famous one. The lawyer found his own answer uncomfortably simple when it was taken up in such a matter-of-fact way. It was suddenly up to him to act on his own advice. He tried to hedge by raising a new question: “Love my neighbor? Certainly. But who is my neighbor?” Who is within the cordon of fraternal fellowship with me? All men of my people and religion? Or only the good and desirable people? Where do you draw the line? Follows the story of the Good Samaritan. “Your neighbor? The alien and the heretic.” The logic of the reply demanded that some good Jew would be shown caring for a wounded Samaritan. Jesus gives it a smashing effectiveness by reversing the role and showing the hated Samaritan as the heroic lover of his kind. To get the situation we must remember the historic enmity between the Jews and the half-breed aliens who had stolen their land and their religion while they were exiled. If we substitute Spaniard and Moor, Kurd and Armenian, Serb and Bulgar, we may get the tension.

Who are our American Samaritans?

We must live up to what we know is right, and we must expand the area of ethical obligation to take in even men of alien race and hostile religion. But beyond that, we need a conscious advance in the ethical standards themselves. Jesus worked out this principle with perfect clearness in a part of the Sermon on the Mount, Matthew 5:17-48. He states the need, and then shows in six cases how such an advance would work out. We shall take these up in their order. Matthew has introduced scattered sayings of Jesus which serve as corollaries, but which do not bear directly on the real course of the argument; for instance, Matthew 5:23-26; 29-30. In our quotations in this and the following days we shall confine ourselves to the main line of thought in order to concentrate attention on that.

Think not that I came to destroy the law or the prophets: I came not to destroy, but to fulfil.... For I say unto you, that except your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no wise enter into the kingdom of heaven.—Matt. 5:17, 20.

Apparently conservative Jews soon felt the spiritual freedom and force in the teachings of Jesus. He seemed to them to be attacking the sacred Law, the foundation of morality and religion. Jesus mentions the charge but denies it. His purpose was not destructive but constructive. He demanded not less righteousness but more. The lines of right living needed to be prolonged. The traditional standards were no longer adequate. A man might obey them and yet not be a good man. The scribes and Pharisees were the model church members of Judaism and experts in piety, yet they were not qualified to enter the Kingdom of God.

Are we also good people who are not good enough?

Ye have heard that it was said to them of old time, Thou shalt not kill; and whosoever shall kill shall be in danger of the judgment: but I say unto you, that every one who is angry with his brother shall be in danger of the judgment; and whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council; and whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of the hell of fire.—Matt. 5:21, 22.

The Law of Moses forbade murder; a man-slayer was amenable in the ordinary court. Was this an adequate expression of the sacredness of human life and personality? It never even scratched a man or woman who assaulted the soul of another with anger and curses. Jesus proposed that these sins be restandardized. Plain anger ought to be valued about as murder used to be. And if anybody went so far as to revile a brother and deny his moral or intellectual worth, the Supreme Court and Gehenna would be about right for him. The lawyers’ gauge of culpability can not get down to the subtler expressions of lovelessness which break the prime law of the Kingdom.

By what methods is contempt expressed in our own social life?

How highly do we rate the moral value of self-respect?

Ye have heard that it was said, Thou shalt not commit adultery: but I say unto you, that every one that looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart....

It was said also, Whosoever shall put away his wife, let him give her a writing of divorcement: but I say unto you, that every one that putteth away his wife, saving for the cause of fornication, maketh her an adulteress; and whosoever shall marry her when she is put away committeth adultery.—Matt. 5:27, 28; 31, 32.

These two cases deal with sex. The old law forbade adultery, the infringement of family life, and stopped there. Jesus goes back of the act to the lustful imaginations and the wandering eye, which may lack opportunity but which are the real spring of all uncleanness. He runs the line of ethical obligation farther back.

The law of divorce (Deut. 24:1), especially as interpreted by the scribes, was very comfortable—for the male. He could divorce his wife for almost any cause. Her only protection was that a formal paper had to be given her which enabled her to marry again. As a woman’s economic and social standing in that age depended almost wholly on her family relations, she was at the mercy of the man. Jesus demanded more protection for her. To him the relation was indissoluble. The Mosaic provision for divorce was a concession to the low moral level of the people. The ideal was the “one man, one woman” provision of the Creator. (See Matt. 19:3-8). The disciples ruefully remarked that such a strengthening of the bond did not add to the attractiveness of marriage—for the male (19:10).

Where do we draw the line between the rightful, natural desire of sex and lawless predatory lust?