41. Knox. Some Loose Stones
Being a Consideration of Certain Tendencies in Modern Theology Illustrated by Reference to the Book called
"Foundations." By R. A. Knox. Second Impression.
London and New York: Longmans, Green, and Co. 1913. 1 r. Knox is a member of that coterie of young Oxford Fellows out
M of which come the "Seven Oxford Men" who wrote the Liberal Manifesto called "Foundations" (see the notice of it in this Review, xi. 1913, pp. 526–538). Not being of their way of thinking and, naturally, being aware of the approaching publication of the book, he greeted its birth with a brilliant satire, parodying Dryden's "Absalom and Achitophel," under the somewhat lurid title of "Absolute and Abitofhell." There were those who thought that if the book was to be attacked at all, it would better be seriously attacked; a proposition the universal validity of which would not have been allowed, to be sure, by John Calvin, say, or Pierre Viret—though we are not sure that Mr. Knox would care to support himself on the
judgments of precisely these great men. At any rate, having enjoyed his burst of laughter, Mr. Knox has turned to earnest remonstrance and has written this volume of criticism in which he traverses the main positions taken up by the authors of "Foundations." He still, however, conceives himself to be engaged rather with the writers of "Foundations" than with their doctrines; or rather, perhaps we should say, he conceives himself to be engaged with their doctrines primarily not on their own account but as expressions of the personalities of their propounders. He insists that he is not writing a theological book: he is rather occupied, he suggests, in "a study in psychology" (p. vii.). What interests him particularly is the psychology—the "far more intricate psychology," he says, than that of "the Prophets, or of the Apostles, or of the Fathers, or of the Schoolmen"—of "the modern theologian." The most wonderful thing about our wonderful
"modern theology" to Mr. Knox is, apparently, that there are people who can think that way.
Even the attitude of the Modern Theologian to his task seems to Mr.
Knox an odd one. The Modern Theologian is apparently less concerned in the discovery of precisely what is true about Christianity, than in the ascertainment of how much can be made easily to pass as true among "modern men." He seems oppressed by the mass of scientific opinion around him; but what daunts him is not so much the effect of this scientific opinion on his own faith, as "its effect on the faith of other people."
Therefore, there enters into all his work an apologetic tone which produces even "at times a cynical indifference to abstract truth." "For we are not concerned, now, to find how we can represent truth most adequately, but how we can represent it most palatably. We ask of a doctrine, not, 'Is it sound?,' but, 'Couldn't we possibly manage to do without it?'; not, 'Is it true?,' but, 'Can I induce Jones to see it in that light?' " (p. 9). Jones has been to College and has heard of Hegel. He is a good man: "anima
naturaliter Christiana, and all that." But when it comes to Christian doctrine, Jones has difficulties. Concessions are in order: it will not do to estrange Jones's "modern mind"! Mr. Knox is outraged by such an attitude.
"The great argument used now against any theological proposition," he breaks out (pp. vii. f.), "is not, that it is untrue, or unthinkable, or unedifying, or unscriptural, or unorthodox, but simply, that the modern mind cannot accept it. It is the modern mind that accepts this, and rejects that, that expresses itself in terms of A rather than in terms of B, that thinks along these lines rather than along those, that shrinks, or ratifies, or demands. And after reading a few paragraphs of such ostensibly psychological discussion, I find myself sorely tempted to exclaim, in an equally psychological spirit: 'If the modern mind has really got all these peculiar kinks about it, then, in Heaven's name, let us trepan it.' "
Even this, however, is, according to Mr. Knox, not the worst of the matter in the case of the authors of "Foundations." The Jones to whom they are so assiduous in adjusting their teaching is a "back number." "In a word, our objection is, not that Jones is unreal, or unimportant, or unrepresentative, but that he is sixty" (p. 11). It was forty years ago that Jones went to College: and the strenuous efforts which the authors of "Foundations" are making "to convert our great-uncles" must strike the really "modern mind" as a sad anachronism. The world has moved in this generation: tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis. This "modern mind" to fit it into the queer corners of which the authors of "Foundations" are so busy whittling down Christianity, always an impertinence, has become fairly non-existent. Jones has receded into the background; and his grandchildren are of a very different temper. They wish no "accommodations" of doctrine made for them. "I have never met
(outside of Senior Common Rooms) any demand from questioners for restatement or accommodation of my beliefs to theirs: they want rather to
know what the Church does say, in order to see whether they can accommodate their beliefs to mine" (p. 13). "Against all this complicated process I am convinced that the cry of the average man is, 'Tell me what you do believe and always have believed … and then I will see about it' " (pp.
15–16). "The modern mind does not want pulp. It wants something that it can close its teeth on" (p. 18). "More dogma is wanted, pulpitfuls of it."
The actual mind of the day demands not quieting compromises but clearlycut differentiations and consequent consistency of convictions.
The fundamental difficulty of the Modern Theologian leading him to sit loosely to Christian truths lies, Mr. Knox thinks, in his method of approach to them. He approaches them by way of hypothesis instead of by way of presupposition, or a posteriori rather than a priori. Looking at them only as so many propositions proposed for consideration, and approaching them (professedly) wholly without prepossessions, he sets to work framing hypotheses, on the ground of which they may be accounted for. Obviously any number of conflicting hypotheses may be framed: there are few bodies of alleged facts which may not find some kind of explanation on any one of a score or of a hundred hypotheses. And at the last resort, there always remains the simple explanation of the amazing report brought by the child:
"the little boy lied" (more or less). There is no limit to the number of hypotheses which may be suggested to account for any body of alleged facts, except the limits of the fertility of the imagination. And there are no final grounds of discrimination between the several hypotheses proposed.
More than one will account for the facts on the assumption that it is true.
And each man becomes enamored of his own hypothesis and twists the facts to make them accord with it. We soon find ourselves in the midst not merely of a confused mass of hypotheses but also of a confused mass of doubted facts; and we seek in vain for a firm footing. Everything, however, is different if we approach a body of truths presented for our acceptance
with presuppositions rather than hypotheses in our hands. Presuppositions are solid things, on which we can take our stand. We already believe, say, in God, and in a personal God who acts purposively; and in a God of love who intervenes in a sinful and miserable world for its salvation. We bring these things with us as facts of which we are assured, not as hypotheses which we are testing; and what a different aspect is taken on by the body of Christian doctrine! Now everything is clear, and solid and sure. And the difference hangs, says Mr. Knox in effect, wholly on the difference in standpoint.
Mr. Knox, it will be seen, is an "authoritarian." And that is well. We cannot get along in this world of fact without authority. Without authority we may assure ourselves, it may be, of what must be; we cannot be assured of a single thing that merely is. And Christianity, as a historical religion, is a religion of facts and is therefore built up, in all that makes it that specific religion which we call Christianity, on authority. We may be theists without authority but not Christians. The blows which Mr. Knox strikes in the name of authority are without doubt fatal and he does especially good service when he exposes the inconsequence of the attempt to substitute religious experience for authority as the foundation of conviction. "As a matter of modernist psychology," he writes, "this appeal to experience is very interesting. The modernist will not allow himself to be regarded as in any way prejudiced in favour of one particular theological system. He therefore collects together the testimony of innumerable other people, primitive Bishops, mediæval nuns, and contemporary charcoal-burners, who were and are, beyond any shadow of dispute, prejudiced theologians— prejudiced by what they believed upon a basis of purely traditional authority. And the result of this appeal is served up as if it were the most modern of all critical investigations, an essay in psychology. But if a priori assumptions are to play no part in modern theology, spiritual experience
must play no part in modern theology, for spiritual experience is based on a priori assumptions" (pp. 193–194). "The whole argument from experience," he comments, "seems to rest on the assumption that you can first make people believe, on the strength of Bible documents or inherited tradition, certain clearly defined dogmas; and then, when they have got accustomed to this way of thinking, you can come and knock away the supports on which the belief rests, Biblical or traditional, and say, 'We have now proved the truth of these doctrines, because we have reared on them so splendid an edifice of faith' " (p. 190).
Valid, however, as is Mr. Knox's appeal to authority; and sound as is his contention that authority lies at the basis of all Christian faith; it must be confessed that he gives no adequate account either of the ground or the nature of the authority to which he makes appeal. His argument thus hangs in the air, and the impression is created that the authority on which Christianity rests is accepted by its votaries by a purely arbitrary act of will.
This is indeed, to all appearance, true in Mr. Knox's own case; otherwise, we surely would catch in his numerous allusions to it some hint of a rational basis of his acceptance of authority. He is, it would seem, just a "traditional" Christian and is inclined to give validity to the traditional
Christianity which he accepts, chiefly one would imagine, despite his solid refutation of that ground of faith, because of the beneficent results of his acceptance of it. He would scarcely expect us to take literally "the crude metaphor" by which he attempts to illustrate his attitude to Scripture and Tradition (pp. 33–34): "You have a motor-car with two headlights, each throwing out its rays obliquely in either direction. The hedge on each side is illuminated by one lamp only, but in the centre of the road the two lights converge, and mark out a triangular area of brilliant clearness. The two lights of Scripture and Tradition (if we may pursue this crude metaphor) may be said in the same way to provide sufficient guidance for our course
only where they overlap. Beyond this area, speculation is at liberty to botanize in the hedgerows." If we were really to "pursue this crude metaphor" Mr. Knox would have left himself no authority at all. If neither
Scripture nor Tradition has any authority by itself—and he apparently deprives each severally of authority—they cannot have any authority when combined—on the principle at least in which Mr. Knox tells us he was brought up (p. 190), viz. that 0 + 0 yields still 0. Authority is not a thing of degrees: it is either absolute or non-existent. He must therefore look upon either Scripture or Tradition as by itself authoritative if their combination is to be authoritative. And it is quite clear that it is to Tradition, not to Scripture, that Mr. Knox really accords authority. When he says therefore,
"It is only at the points where Scripture and ecclesiastical tradition combine to form a defined doctrine, that he"—he who thinks with Mr. Knox
—"pretends to stand on sure ground, in virtue of a presupposition" (p. 33), we can but understand him to mean that his faith rests not on Scripture simpliciter, but on Scripture, as interpreted by Tradition—that is to say, that he finds his authority not in Scripture at all but in Tradition; in other words, that he is a traditionalist in the sense of the Church of Rome.
Authority to him thus spells Tradition, and Tradition spells "Church," and "Church" spells practically Rome. Mr. Knox in a word is a High Anglican, indistinguishable in his theory of authority from the general doctrine on this subject of the Roman Church, except, perhaps, for a little drawing back when the place of the Pope in the definition of dogma comes into consideration (cf. p. 193). His pleading for a commanding place for authority in religion is largely vitiated, therefore, by the circumstance that his own view of the nature, seat, and ground of authority in religion is baseless and untenable.
This fundamental inconsequence in his own point of view does not prevent Mr. Knox, however, from exposing the inconsequences of the
"Modernist" point of view, as illustrated in the authors of "Foundations," in a very trenchant manner. In successive chapters he traverses the greater number of the essays in "Foundations" and points out in them tendencies of method and treatment which annul their conclusions. He speaks himself of having dealt only very cursorily with Mr. Moberly's essay on the Atonement. But we are not sure that the strictures on this essay do not constitute the best piece of criticism in the volume. The notion that our
Lord offered for us a "vicarious penitence" is very properly scored. Can there be such a thing as "vicarious penitence"? If there can be, can it take away sin? And if it can take away sin, must it not be because it, as suffering, is "actually allowed to count in the eye of divine justice as satisfaction for sins which we have committed"; and if this is so, how does it avoid the criticism that "it is immoral that the sufferings of one man should be accepted as satisfaction for the sins of another" (pp. 162–163)? The essence of the matter is touched in a passage like the following: "But this surely is clear, that if we are to hold the full traditional view of the Atonement, we must suppose that the brand left by our sins is not twofold, but threefold.
They leave a mark on our own souls—true. They leave a mark on the lives of men around us—true. But over and above all this, they leave a mark in the book of life, a black mark on our records, which no human penitence can efface. There is an objective disturbance in the moral order which our sins have created, and only one thing could right it, the Sacrifice of Christ, to which we have contributed not a jot or a tittle on our own part. And there can be neither Catholicism nor Evangelicalism where the fact is not realized" (pp. 170–171). Some of the remarks on the deity of our Lord and the Incarnation are equally pungent, and that whether the attempt to substitute the category of will for that of substance in construing the one doctrine or the notion of kenosis in construing the other, is under discussion. To be "of the same mind" with one another is not to have
numerically only one "mind" among us; and when two beings will the same thing it is not clear that they are therefore but one. And if anything such as the Kenotists assert happened at the Incarnation we certainly cannot say that Jesus was God, but only that He was a man who once had been God.
The Virgin-birth and the Empty Tomb (though Mr. Knox stumbles sadly with reference to our Lord's resurrection-body) and the Ascension are all dealt with in adequate fashion. Mr. Knox is willing even to become aggressive here. "Mr. Streeter says he knows of no living theologian who would maintain a physical Ascension in this crude form. I have no claim to be a theologian. I can only say that as a person of ordinary education I believe, as I hope for salvation, in this literal doctrine; I believe, that whatever change may have glorified the Risen Body when it passed beyond the cloud into a new mode or sphere of existence, the earth has ever since the Ascension been the lighter by so many pounds' weight, and the sum of matter in the world the less by so many cubic inches of volume" (p. 85).
Such "materialism" may shock some ears: but the issue ultimately comes to just that.
There are, of course, other passages with which we feel less satisfaction.
We do not quite go with Mr. Knox in his dealing with miracles; especially in his inability to separate between Biblical and Ecclesiastical Miracles. We certainly do not go with him in his treatment of Scripture: especially in his discussion of the eschatological utterances of our Lord. His Romeward tendencies—which are numerous and decisive—are an offense to us. His obsession of "freedom" is equally regrettable. Even here, however, he shows his characteristic courage and in the interests of "free-will" cheerfully denies that we have any solid ground for anticipating the conversion of the world.
Enough: there is much in Mr. Knox's book which is crude and unconsidered. But this cannot destroy its general value as an exposure of the weaknesses of "modernism"; and it is in this that its significance lies. It
is an earnest and successful plea to reasonable men to draw back from these shifting shoals where "we have to be reassured by a yearly statement from Dr. Sanday, comparable to the weather report, as to 'what we may still believe' " (p. 35), and to plant our feet firmly on the rock. The fine air of conviction which suffuses it, and the brightness of the style, should give the book a wide circulation and, we trust, will give it, in its main message, large acceptance.
1. 1 The Princeton Theological Review, xii. 1914, pp. 686–691.