II. Religion
B. Principia in Religion or Theology Religion and theology are closely related to each other. They are both effects of the same cause, that is, of the facts respecting God in His relation to the universe. Religion is the effect which these facts produce in the sphere of the individual and collective life of man, while theology is the effect which they produce in the sphere of systematic thought. The principia of the one are also the principia of the other. These principia are not of a natural and general, but of a spiritual and special character. They do not belong to the realm of creation as such, but to the sphere of redemption. Notwithstanding this fact, however, they are also of inestimable value for the Christian pursuit of scientific knowledge in general.
1. GOD IS THE PRINCIPIUM ESSENDI. This is equivalent to saying that all our knowledge of God has its origin in God Himself. God possesses a complete and in every way perfect knowledge of Himself.
He knows Himself in the absolute sense of the word, not only as He is related to His creatures, nor merely in His diversified activities and their controlling motives, but also in the unfathomable depths of His essential Being. His self-consciousness is perfect and infinite; there is no sub-conscious life in Him, no subliminal region of unconscious mentality. And of that absolute, perfectly conscious self-knowledge of God, the knowledge which man has of the divine Being is but a faint and creaturely copy or imprint. All human knowledge of God is derived from Him, Matt. 11:27; 1 Cor. 2:10 f. And because there can be no knowledge of God in man apart from self-consciousness in God, Pantheism spells death for all theology. It is impossible to deduce a conscious creature from an unconscious God, a creature that knows God from a God that does not know Himself. We can find the principium of our theology only in a personal God, perfect in selfconsciousness, as He freely, consciously, and truly reveals Himself.
2. THE PRINCIPIUM COGNOSCENDI EXTERNUM IS GOD'S
SPECIAL REVELATION. The knowledge which God desires that we
should have of Him is conveyed to us by means of the revelation that is now embraced in Scripture. Originally God revealed Himself in creation, but through the blight of sin that original revelation was obscured. Moreover, it was entirely insufficient in the condition of things that obtained after the fall. Only God's self-revelation in the Bible can now be considered adequate. It only conveys a knowledge of God that is pure, that is, free from error and superstition, and that answers to the spiritual needs of fallen man. Because it has pleased
God to embody His special revelation in Scripture for the time being, this, in the words of Bavinck, has the character of a "causa efficiens instrumentalis of theology." It is now the principium unicum, from which the theologian must derive his theological knowledge. Some are inclined to speak of God's general revelation as a second source; but this is hardly correct in view of the fact that nature can come into consideration here only as interpreted in the light of Scripture.
Kuyper warns against speaking of Scripture, or God's special revelation, as the fons theologiae, since the word fons has a rather definite meaning in scientific study. It denotes in general a certain object of study which is in itself passive, but which embodies certain ideas, and from which man must, by means of scientific study, extract or elicit knowledge. The use of that word in this connection is apt to give the impression that man must place himself above
Scripture, in order to discover or elicit from these the knowledge of God, while as a matter of fact this is not the case. God does not leave it to man to discover the knowledge of Him and of divine things, but actively and explicitly conveys this to man by means of His selfrevelation. This same idea was later on also stressed by Schaeder and Barth, namely, that in the study of theology God is never the object of some human subject, but is always Himself the subject. We should bear in mind that the word 'principium,' as we use it in theology, has a casual signification, just as the corresponding Hebrew and Greek words do in the Bible, when it speaks of the fear of the Lord as the principle (reshith) of wisdom (Ps. 111:10) or knowledge (Prov. 1:7), and of Christ as the principle (arche) of creation and of the resurrection (Col. 1:18; Rev. 3:14). By means of His self-revelation
God communicates the requisite knowledge of Himself and of divine
things to man. Man can know God only because and in so far as God actively reveals Himself. And if we do speak of Scripture as the fountain-head of theology, we shall have to remember that it is a living fountain, from which God causes the streams of knowledge to flow, and that we have but to appropriate these. The same point should be borne in mind, when we follow the common custom in speaking of God's special revelation as the source of theology. Man cannot place himself above his object in theology; he cannot investigate God.
3. THE PRINCIPIUM COGNOSCENDI INTERNUM IS FAITH. As in
the non-theological sciences, so also in theology there must be a principium cognoscendi internum that answers to the principium cognoscendi externum. Scripture sometimes represents regeneration
(1 Cor. 2:14), purity of heart (Matt. 5:8), doing the will of God (John 7:17), and the anointing of the Holy Spirit (1 John 2:20) as such. But it most frequently points to faith as the principium internum of the knowledge of God (Rom. 10:17; Gal. 3:3, 5; Heb. 11:1, 3), and this name undoubtedly deserves preference. The self-communication of God aims at conveying the knowledge of God to man, in order that God may receive honor and glory through man. Therefore it may not terminate outside of man, but must continue right on into the mind and heart of man. By faith man accepts the self-revelation of God as divine truth, by faith he appropriates it in an ever increasing measure, and by faith he responds to it as he subjects his thoughts to the thoughts of God. The principium internum, says Bavinck, is sometimes called the verbum internum or even the verbum principale, because it brings the knowledge of God into man, which is after all the aim of all theology and of the whole self-revelation of God. Barth stresses the fact that it is only by faith that the knowledge of God becomes possible. These three principia, while distinct, yet constitute a unity. The Father communicates Himself to His creatures through the Son as the Logos and in the Holy Spirit.
QUESTIONS FOR FURTHER STUDY: Has the doctrine of the principia always received adequate attention in Reformed theology?
What took the place of it under the influence of Rationalism? What was the nature of the so-called 'Prolegomena,' 'Prinzipienlehre,' or 'Fundamentaldogmatik,' which came into vogue under the influence of Schleiermacher? Should theology derive its principia from other sciences or from philosophy? Which are the fundamental objections of modern theology to the doctrine of the principia, as it was stated in the preceding? Does Barth also regard Scripture as the principium cognoscendi externum of theology?
REFERENCES: Bavinck, Geref. Dogm. I, pp. 207–237; Kuyper, Enc. der Heil. Godgel. II, pp. 291–346; Girardeau, Discussions of Theological Questions, pp. 72–272; Thornwell, Collected Writings I, pp. 43–52; Strong, Syst. Theol., pp. 1–15; Miley, Syst. Theol., pp. 7–
47; McPherson, Chr. Dogm., pp. 18–37.
II. Religion A brief discussion of religion at this point will have a double advantage. It will enable us to see the rationality of the principia to which attention was called in the preceding, and will prepare us for a more detailed discussion of God's special revelation, the necessary corollary of religion, and the principium cognoscendi externum of theology. There is a very close relation between religion and theology. This is evident from the very fact that many regard theology as the science of religion. While this is certainly a mistake, the fact remains that the two are inseparably connected. There is no such thing as theology apart from religion. Religion consists in a real, living, and conscious relationship between a man and his God, determined by the self-revelation of God, and expressing itself in a life of worship, fellowship and service. It pre-supposes that God exists, that He has revealed Himself, and that He has enabled man to appropriate this revelation. And where man does appropriate the revealed knowledge of God, reflects on it and unifies it, there the
structure of theology arises on the basis of God's revelation. We do not proceed on the assumption, so common among modern students of religion, that the essential nature of religion can be determined only in the light of its origin and history, and therefore do not begin this discussion with a historical study of the religions of the world.
Since our conception of religion is frankly determined by Scripture, it seems more desirable to follow the logical order in its discussion, and to consider first of all the essence of religion.
A. The Essence of Religion 1. THE DERIVATION OF THE WORD 'RELIGION'. The derivation of the word 'religion' is still uncertain, and even if it were certain, would only yield a historical, and not a normative, definition of religion. It would only shed some light on the conception of religion that gave rise to the use of this particular word. Several derivations of it have been suggested in course of time. The earliest of these is that of Cicero, who derived it from re-legere, to re-read, to repeat, to observe carefully. In the light of this derivation religion was regarded as a constant and diligent observance of all that pertains to the knowledge of the gods. One of the influential Church Fathers of the fourth century, Lactantius, held that the word was derived from religare, to attach, to establish firmly, to bind together, and therefore pointed to religion as the bond between God and man. Gellius suggested the derivation from relinquere in the sense of to separate oneself from someone or something. The word 'religion' would then indicate that which by reason of its holiness is separated from all that is profane. Finally, Leidenroth assumed that it was derived from a supposed root ligere, meaning to see. Religere would then mean, to look back, and religion, to look back with fear. The derivation of Gellius found no favor whatsoever. That of Lactantius was generally accepted for a long time, but was gradually relinquished when Latin scholars pointed out that it was linguistically impossible to derive
'religion' from 'religare'. Some admit the possibility of the derivation suggested by Leidenroth, but the derivation of Cicero is now preferred by most theologians. Calvin also gave preference to this,
though he did not share Cicero's explanation of the term. Says he:
"Cicero truly and shrewdly derives the name religion from relego, and yet the reason which he asigns is forced and far-fetched, namely, that honest worshippers read and read again, and ponder what is true. I rather think the name is used in opposition to vagrant license
—the greater part of mankind rashly taking up whatever first comes their way, whereas piety, that it may stand with a firm step, confines itself within due bounds."
2. SCRIPTURAL TERMS FOR RELIGION. The Bible contains no definition of religion, nor even a general term descriptive of this phenomenon. It has become customary in Reformed theology to distinguish between objective and subjective religion. The word
'religion' is clearly used in a two-fold sense. When we speak of the Christian religion in distinction from other religions, we mean one thing; and when we say that a man's religion is too intellectual or too emotional, we have something different in mind. In the one case we refer to something that has objective existence outside of man, and in the other, to a subjective phenomenon in the inner life of man, which finds expression in a variety of ways. The term 'religio objectiva' is used to denote that which determines the nature of man's religion, its regulative norm, namely, the knowledge of God and of man's relation to Him, as this is prescribed by the Word of God. It is sometimes practically equivalent to 'the divine revelation.' And the term 'religio subjectiva' serves to designate the life that is so regulated or determined by the Word of God, and that expresses itself in worship, fellowship, and service. Now the Bible uses different terms for each of these aspects of religion.
The religio objectiva is, as was said, practically identical with God's revelation, and is indicated in the Old Testament by such terms as 'law,' 'commandments', 'precepts', 'judgments', 'ordinances', and so on. In the New Testament the revelation of God is embodied, not primarily in a set of laws, but in the Person of Christ, in His redemptive work, and in the apostolic kerugma, which centers about Christ, and is merely an interpretation of the facts of redemption.
Such terms as 'the gospel', 'the faith', and 'the kerugma' serve to designate the religio objectiva.
The religio subjectiva corresponds to the religio objectiva, and is described in the Old Testament as "the fear of the Lord," which is repeatedly called "the beginning of wisdom." The term is expressive of the inner disposition of the pious Israelite with reference to the law of God. This fear of God should be distinguished, however, from that anxious solicitude, accompanied with dread, that is so characteristic of heathen religions. The really God-fearing Israelite was not controlled by the distrust, the dread anxiety, and slavish fear, with which the Gentiles thought of their gods. In his case the fear of the Lord was accompanied with other religious dispositions, such as faith, hope, love, trust, taking refuge in, leaning on, and clinging to, God, and therefore was perfectly consistent with joy and peace, childlike confidence and blessedness, in communion with God.
The New Testament rarely employs the terms that are most prominent in classical Greek as designations of religion, such as deisidaimonia (fear or reverence for the gods), Acts 25:19, theosebeia
(reverence towards God), 1 Tim. 2:10, and eulabeia (circumspection in religious matters, fear of God, reverence, piety), Heb. 5:7; 12:28.
The only word that occurs with some frequency is eusebeia (piety towards God, godliness), which is found fifteen times. These words do not express the characteristic element of New Testament religion.
The fear of the Lord is indeed mentioned here as an element in religion, Luke 18:2; Acts 9:31; 2 Cor. 5:11; 7:1, but is far less prominent than in the Old Testament. The usual New Testament term for the religio subjectiva in the New Testament is pistis, faith.
In classical Greek this word is used to denote: (a) a conviction based on the testimony of another; and (b) trust in a person whose testimony is accepted. It does not stand out as a designation of trust in the gods, though it is occasionally so used. And it is exactly this element that is brought to the foreground in the New Testament. To the glorious message of salvation, there is an answering faith on the
part of man, a faith consisting in childlike trust in the grace of God, and becoming at the same time a fountain of love to God and of devotion to His service. This faith is not the natural expression of any so-called inborn religious disposition of man, but is the fruit of the supernatural operation of the Holy Spirit. The words latreia, Rom.
9:4; 12:1; Heb. 9:1, 6, and threskeia, Acts 26:5; Col. 2:18; Jas. 1:27, are used to denote the service of God that springs from the principle of faith.
3. HISTORICAL CONCEPTIONS OF THE ESSENCE OF RELIGION.
Religion is one of the most universal phenomena of human life. Man has sometimes been described as "incurably religious." This need not surprise us in view of the fact that man was created in the image of God, and was destined to live in communion with Him. And while it is true that man fell away from God, his fall did not involve a complete loss of the image of God. The Belgic Confession states in Art. XIV that man "lost all his excellent gifts which he had received from God, and only retained a few remains thereof, which, however, are sufficient to leave man with excuse." And according to the Canons of Dort III and IV, Art IV: "There remain, however, in man since the fall, the glimmerings of natural light, whereby he retains some knowledge of God, of natural things, and of the difference between good and evil, and discovers some regard for virtue, good order in society, and for maintaining an orderly deportment." This remaining light, however, does not avail unto salvation, and is even abused by man in natural and civil things. At the same time it does serve to explain the presence of some form of religion even among the lowest and most barbaric tribes of the earth. But however general this phenomenon may be among the nations of the world, this does not mean that there is general agreement as to the essential nature of it. Even the history of the Christian Church reveals considerable difference of opinion on this point. The following are the most important conceptions that come into consideration here: a. The conception of the early Church. The Bible does not furnish us with a definition of religion, nor even with a description of it, though
it contains in its entire compass a clear revelation of what God requires of man. There are a few passages, however, which contain some specific indications. Thus Paul says in Rom. 12:1; "I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual (or: reasonable) service (latreia)." The Epistle to the Hebrews contains this admonition: "Wherefore receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us have grace, whereby we may offer service well-pleasing to God with reverence and awe," 12:28. In this passage the words latreio and eulabeia are both used. James adds a specific element in the words: "Pure religion (threskeia) and undefiled before our God and Father is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world," 1:27.
In the early Church Christians enjoyed religious experiences and engaged in consecrated service and in reverential worship long before they began to reflect on the exact nature of religion. One of the earliest definitions of it was that of Lactantius in the beginning of the fourth century. He defined religion as recta verum Deum cognoscendi et colendi ratio (the right manner of knowing and serving the true God). This definition has always met with considerable favor, and is even now found in some works on dogmatic theology. During the previous century, however, it was criticized as favoring an external conception of religion, in which the heart is not concerned. But this criticism is hardly justified, since the definition does not pretend to specify what is the right manner of knowing and serving God. There is nothing in it to prevent anyone from assuming that the author had in mind a knowledge, which is not only intellectual, but also experiential, and a service which springs from the heart and is truly spiritual. The right manner of knowing and serving God is after all determined by the Word of God, which is not satisfied with a purely intellectual knowledge, nor with a merely external service. It is true, however, that the definition applies to the religio objectiva, the religion as prescribed by God in His Word, rather than to the religio subjectiva, religion as
experienced and practiced by men; and that it docs not indicate the connection between the right knowledge and the right service of God. b. The conception of the Middle Ages. It is a well known fact that during the Middle Ages, under the influence of the Church of Rome, religious life was gradually externalized. The one-sided emphasis on the Church as an external organization brought with it a similar emphasis on the performance of external rites and ceremonies, to the neglect of the inner disposition of the heart. And this undue attention to mere ritual punctuality reached its culmination in the scholastic period. Moreover, since the authority of the Church and of tradition gradually surpassed, if it did not supersede, that of Scripture, and the Bible was excluded from the hands of the laity, the element of knowledge was reduced to a minimum in the religious life of the people. The conception of religion, which was then present, finds its best expression in Thomas Aquinas' definition of it as "the virtue by which men render to God the required service and honor."
Thus religion takes its place among the human virtues, and is practically identified with the single element of latreia. Thomas
Aquinas distinguishes between the theological virtues, faith, hope, and charity, which have God for their object, and the moral virtues, justice, fortitude, prudence, and temperance, which find their object in the things that lead us to God. He looks upon religion as a part of the virtue of justice, because in it man renders to God what is His due. While this definition does indeed stress the religio subjectiva, it contemplates this one-sidedly as service. Religion is not merely service and worship; it is primarily a disposition of the heart, which expresses itself in service and worship. The definition of Thomas
Aquinas is even now found in some Roman Catholic works. Spirago voices the same external conception of religion, when he says:
"Religion is not a matter of feeling; it is a matter of the will and of action, and consists in following out the principles that God has laid down." c. The conception of the Reformers. The Reformers broke with the externalism of the Church of Rome in general, and also with its
external conception of religion. They could not conceive of religion as being merely one of the moral virtues. In fact they did not regard it as a human virtue at all, but rather as spiritual communion with God, coupled with reverential fear, and expressing itself in grateful worship and loving service. Says Calvin: "Such is pure and genuine religion, namely, confidence in God coupled with serious fear—fear, which both includes in it willing reverence, and brings along with it such legitimate worship as is prescribed by the law." Moreover, he adds: "And it ought to be more carefully considered, that all men promiscuously do homage God, but very few reverence Him. On all hands there is abundance of ostentatious ceremonies, but sincerity of heart is rare."
Since the Reformers regarded religion as a conscious and voluntary spiritual relation to God, which expresses itself in life as a whole but particularly in certain acts of worship, they distinguished between pietas as the principle and cultus as the action of religion. And even this cultus they regarded as twofold. They drew a clear line of distinction between a cultus internus, which manifests itself primarily in faith, hope and love, and a cultus externus, which finds expression in the worship of the Church and in a life of service.
Furthermore they spoke of a religio subjectiva and a religio objectiva, and indicated the relation between the two. The religio subjectiva, which is primarily a disposition of the heart, disturbed, degenerated, and falsified by sin, but restored by the operation of the Holy Spirit, is determined, directed, and fructified by, and passes into action under the influence of, the religio objectiva, consisting in the revealed truth of God, in which God Himself determines the adoration, worship, and service that is acceptable to Him. All willworship, such as the detailed ritualism of the Roman Catholic
Church, and the individualism of the Anabaptists, was regarded a contraband.
The question may be raised at this point, what should be regarded as the really characteristic disposition of the soul in religion. There has been no general agreement on this point. It has been found in piety,
fear, reverence, faith, a feeling of dependence, and so on; but these are all emotions or affections which are also felt with reference to man. Otto in his psychological study of religion seems to have hit upon the right idea. He feels that, while Schleiermacher suggested an important idea, when he spoke of "a feeling of dependence," yet this can hardly be regarded as an adequate statement of what is felt in religion. He finds something more, for instance, in the words of Abraham, when he undertakes to plead for the men of Sodom:
"Behold now, I have taken upon me to speak unto the Lord, which am but dust and ashes." Gen. 18:27. Says he: "There you have a selfconfessed 'feeling of dependence,' which is yet at the same time far more, and something other than, merely a feeling of dependence.
Desiring to give it a name of its own, I propose to call it 'creatureconsciousness' or 'creature-feeling.' It is the emotion of a creature, abased and overwhelmed by its own nothingness in contrast to that which is supreme above all creatures." The really characteristic thing is this, that in religion the absolute majesty and infinite power of God and the utter insignificance and absolute helplessness of man come into consideration. This does not mean, however, that religion is merely a matter of the emotions, nor that man's absolute subjection to the infinite God is simply a necessity imposed on man. The relation of man to God in religion is a conscious and voluntary one, and instead of enslaving man leads him into the enjoyment of the highest liberty. In religion man knows God on the one hand as a holy
Power on which he is absolutely dependent, and on the other hand, as the highest Good, the source of all natural and spiritual blessings.
In it he entrusts himself voluntarily to God with all his interests for time and eternity, and thus acknowledges his dependence on Him.
And it is exactly by this acknowledgment that the moral life of man gains the highest victory through the grace of God and enters upon the enjoyment of true liberty. d. The modern conception of religion. In more recent times the conception of religion handed down by the Reformers, was changed considerably. The Reformers maintained the right of private judgment, and this soon resulted in a rather considerable number of
Churches and Confessions. Consequently a tendency manifested itself in course of time to seek the essence of the religio objectiva in that which all Churches had in common. Some found this in the truth as it is expressed in the Apostolic Confession. Quite a different note, however, was sounded by Rationalism, which broke with the Word of God and limited religion in the objective sense to the familiar triad of God, virtue, and immortality. Thus the religio objectiva was reduced to a minimum. Kant and Schleiermacher went still farther by transferring the center of gravity from the object to the subject, and divorcing the religio subjectiva from the religio objectiva. The former regarded religion simply as a form of moral action, in which man recognizes his duties as divine commandments. According to him, says Moore, "morality becomes religion when that which the former shows to be the end of man is conceived also to be the end of the supreme law giver, God." And Schleiermacher considered religion to be merely a condition of devout feeling, a feeling of dependence, a "Hinneigung zum Weltall." In the system of Hegel religion becomes a matter of knowledge. He speaks of it as "the knowledge possessed by the finite mind of its nature as absolute mind"; or, regarded from the divine side, as "the divine Spirit's knowledge of itself through the mediation of the finite spirit." This makes God, not only the object, but also the subject of religion. Thus, in the words of van Oosterzee, religion becomes "a play of God with Himself." Ever since the days of Schleiermacher religion has come to be regarded as something purely subjective, and in modern theology it is generally represented as man's search for God, as if it were possible to discover God apart from divine revelation, and as if God did not first have to find man before men could really find Him. In fact the idea of religion as a conscious and voluntary relation of man to his God, a relation determined by God Himself, was gradually lost. It is now often defined without any reference to God whatsoever, as may be seen from the following examples: Religion is "morality touched with emotion" (Matthew Arnold), "a sum of scruples which impede the free exercise of our faculties" (Reinach), "faith in the conservation of values" (Hoeffding), or "the belief that there is an unseen order and
that our supreme good lies in harmoniously adjusting ourselves thereto" (James). e. The Barthian conception. Modern theology turned from the objective to the subjective; it relegated the idea of revelation to the background, and brought the idea of religion prominently to the fore.
Moreover, it contemplated religion as something native to man, as the highest achievement of man in the life of the human race, and as a prized possession, on the basis of which man can rise to the heights of God. It saw in religion the manifestation of the divine in man, which makes him continuous with God, enable him to scale the heavens, and makes him entirely fit to dwell in the presence of God.
Over against this modern subjectivism, Barth again stresses the objective in religion, and centers attention once more on the divine revelation, on the Word of God. He never wearies of dinning it into the ears of the present generation that there is no way from man to God, not even in religion, but only a way from God to man. He points out that the Bible has nothing commendable to say about the kind of religion of which the Modernists boast, but repeatedly spurns and condemns it. It is like the religion of the Pharisees in the days of Jesus, and of the Judaists in the days of Paul. He even shocked and horrified his modernist contemporaries by stigmatizing this religion as the greatest sin against God. According to him the history of religion, which became so prominent during the last decennia, is really the history of what is untrue in religion. "For," says he, "at the moment when religion becomes conscious of religion, when it becomes psychologically and historically conceivable, it falls away from its inner character, from its truth, to idols. Its truth is its otherworldliness, its refusal of the idea of sacredness, its non historicity."
It is his desire to break the strangle-hold which Schleiermacher had for so long a time on modern theology. Says he: "With all due respect for the genius shown in his work, I can not consider Schleiermacher a good teacher in the realm of theology because, so far as I can see, he is disastrously dim sighted in regard to the fact that man as man is not only in need, but beyond all hope of saving himself; that the whole of so-called religion, and not least the Christian religion,
shares in this need; and that one can not speak of God simply by speaking of man in a loud voice." Barth does not regard religion as a possession of man, something which man has, and which is therefore something historical rather than something that comes to man from above. It is not something by which man can improve himself and thus become fit for heaven, since this loses sight of the qualitative difference between this world and the world to come. It is not a historical quantum, on the possession of which man can base his hope for the future, but rather an attitude, a frame of mind, a disposition, into which man is brought when he is confronted with the divine revelation. The truly religious man is the man who despairs of himself and of all that is purely human, the man who cries out with Isaiah, "Woe is me! for I am undone," or with Paul,
"Wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me out of the body of this death?" In his Roemerbrief (2nd ed. p. 241) Barth expresses himself as follows: "It (religion) gives him no solution of his life's problems, but rather makes him an insoluble enigma to himself. It is neither his salvation, nor a discovery of it: it is rather the discovery that he is not saved.… It is a misfortune which falls with fatal necessity upon some men, and from them is carried to others. It is the misfortune under the weight of which John the Baptist goes into the wilderness to preach repentance and the judgment to come; under the weight of which such a deeply moving long drawn-out sigh as the second Epistle to the Corinthians was put on paper; under the uncanny weight of which a physiognomy like that of Calvin becomes what it finally was." While all this is by no means a complete statement of what Barth has to say about religion, it does indicate sufficiently what he regards as the essence of it.
B. The Seat of Religion A brief consideration of the question as to the real seat of religion in the human soul will undoubtedly promote a proper understanding of its essential nature. The question has been raised in the course of history, whether it has its seat in, and therefore operates through, just one of the faculties of the soul—to speak in the language of the
old faculty psychology—, or occupies a central place in the life of man and functions through all the powers of the soul. It has been erroneously represented as a function, now of this, and then of that, faculty, while it should undoubtedly be regarded as something in which the soul of man as whole, with all its psychical powers, is operative. Its place in life is fundamental and central, and consequently it affects all the manifestations of life. The following views come into consideration here and call for a brief discussion.
1. IT HAS ITS SEAT IN THE INTELLECT. There is an intellectual conception, which seeks the essence of religion in knowledge, and therefore locates its psychical basis in the intellect. It was especially
Hegel that sponsored the intellectual view and brought it to the foreground. According to him the whole life of man is merely a process of thought, and religion is simply a part of the process. In the finite spirit of man the Absolute becomes conscious of itself, and this self-consciousness of the Absolute in the human spirit is religion.
According to this view religion is neither feeling nor action—though these are not entirely excluded—, but essentially knowledge. At the same time it is not the highest form of knowledge, but a knowledge clothed in symbols, from which only philosophy can extract that which is ideal and permanent. Religion never gets beyond the stage of apprehending reality in concrete and imaginative terms, while philosophy makes the attempt to discover the pure idea that lies behind the image. This view is certainly a very serious misconception of the essence of religion, since it reduces this to a sort of imperfect philosophy. This virtually means that one's knowledge determines the measure of one's piety. Certainly, there is also knowledge in religion, but it is knowledge of a specific kind; and the attainment of knowledge does not constitute the real end in religion. Science aims at knowledge, but religion seeks comfort, peace, salvation. Moreover, religious knowledge is not purely intellectual, but above all experiential, a knowledge accompanied with emotions and resulting in action. Religion is not merely a matter of the intellect, but also of the will and of the affections. This consideration should also serve as a warning to all those in the Christian Church who speak and act as if
true religion were only a matter of a proper conception of the truth, of sound doctrine and of an orthodox profession of the verities of the Christian religion; and as if Christian experience and the Christian life in all its varied manifestations were matters of comparative insignificance. Cold intellectualism would never have made
Christianity the power it proved to be in the world.
2. IT HAS ITS SEAT IN THE WILL. Some have simply defined religion as moral action and sought its seat in the will. The way for this view was paved by Pelagianism in its various forms, such as Semi-Pelagianism, Arminianism, Socinianism, Deism, and Rationalism, all of which represent Christianity as a nova lex, and stress the fact that faith is a new obedience. Doctrine is made subordinate as a means to a higher end, and that end is practical piety. It was especially Kant that gave prominence to this moralistic type of religion. He stressed the fact that the supernatural is beyond the reach of pure reason, and that the great concepts of God, virtue, and immortality, are but the necessary postulates of the practical reason. In this view faith becomes a knowledge resting on practical grounds, and religion is reduced to moral action determined by the categorical imperative. Moral duties are fundamental in the life of man, and religion begins at the point where man recognizes these duties as divine commands, that is, where he comes to the discovery that God requires those duties of him. Thus the intimate relation between religion and morality is indeed maintained, but the order of the two is reversed. Morality loses its foundation in religion, and in turn itself becomes the foundation of religion. Man becomes morally autonomous, and religion loses its objective character. But a morality that is not rooted in religion cannot itself be religious. Moreover, religion is never mere moral action. There is also knowledge in religion, and a far greater measure of knowledge than that for which the system of Kant made allowance. And in addition to that there is in religion also a self-surrender of man to God, by which he is delivered from guilt and pollution, and becomes a participant in all the blessings of salvation as the reward of the faithful. This moralistic conception of religion has become very popular in the
American religious world. This is undoubtedly due in part to the influence of Ritschl, who adopted the fundamental principles of Kant and found many followers in our country, but also in part to the practical temper of the American people and to Pragmatism, in which that temper found philosophical expression. There is a onesided emphasis on religious action in our country. Many concern themselves very little about religious experience, and even less about religious knowledge. 'Service' is the great watchword of the day, and service only is the mark of true Christianity. There is little concern about the question whether this action springs from true religious principles. It is no wonder that the term 'Activism' is used to characterize American Christianity.
3. IT HAS ITS SEAT IN THE FEELINGS. There have been those who defined religion as feeling, especially in mystical and pietistic circles.
Romanticism, which was a reaction of the free emotional life against a rather formal and inflexible classicism, was in no small measure conducive to this view. Schleiermacher was its great apostle.
According to him religion is essentially a sense of the infinite, a feeling of dependence, not so much on a personal God as on the universe conceived as a unity. Hence he spoke of religion as a "Hinneigung zum Weltall." In religion man feels himself one with the Absolute. Religion is pure feeling, disconnected from thought on the one hand, and from morality or action on the other. It is, to use the words of Edwards, "a warm, intimate, immediate awareness of the Infinite in the finite, the Eternal in the temporal, a sense of dependence on the Whole." Now it is undoubtedly true that feeling has an important place in religion, but it is a mistake to regard it as the exclusive seat of religion. And it is even more incorrect to regard it as the source of religion, as Schleiermacher does. His conception of religion makes it entirely subjective, a product of human factors, and ignores its relation to absolute truth. In human feeling the great question is, whether a sensation or perception is pleasant or unpleasant, and not whether it is true or false; and yet this is the allimportant question in religion. This view of religion is just as onesided as the other two. True religion is not merely, and is not even
fundamentally, a matter of feeling, but also of knowledge, and of volition or moral action. Moreover, this conception easily leads to a confusion of religious and aesthetic feeling, and to an identification of religion and art. And also in connection with this philosophical view it is necessary to remark that it is not a mere abstract theory, but one that reverberates in practical life. Many regard religion purely as a matter of emotional enjoyment, good enough for women, but hardly fit for men. According to them it is something apart from the life of man in general. It really means little or nothing for the serious business of life. It has no controlling influence on the thoughts of man, neither does it determine his action in any way.
One can be a Christian with his heart (feeling), and a heathen with his head. He can say, "Lord, Lord" in private or public worship, and at the same time refuse to do the Lord's bidding in daily life. This is not only an un-Scriptural, but also an unpsychological view of religion, and one that has done a great deal of harm to the cause of God in the past.
4. IT HAS ITS SEAT IN THE HEART. The only correct view is that religion has its seat in the heart. Some might be inclined to regard this position as identical with the preceding one, since the word
'heart' may denote the seat of the affections and passions in the life of man, in distinction from the intellect and the will. In that case it is really a designation of the emotional nature, that is, of the feelings. It is used in that sense, when it is said that a man's heart is better than his head. But the word 'heart' is also used in a far more general sense, and may denote even the entire personality of man as capable of being influenced or moved. It is so employed, when it is said that a man loves with all his heart. It is in a somewhat related sense, a sense that is derived from Biblical psychology, that the word is used here. The word is not always used in the same sense even in the Bible, but in some cases has a general, and in others a more specific meaning. And when it is said that religion has its seat in the heart, it is employed in its most general sense. To the question what is meant with the 'heart,' we may answer with Laidlaw that the 'heart' in the language of Biblical psychology means "the focus of the personal and
moral life. It never denotes the personal subject, always the personal organ. All the soul's motions of life proceed from it, and react upon it." It is the central organ of the soul, and has sometimes been called
"the workshop of the soul." Religion is rooted in the image of God in man, and that image is central. It reveals itself in the whole man with all his talents and powers. Consequently, man's relation to God is central and involves the whole man. Man must love God with all his heart, and with all his soul, and with all his mind. He must consecrate himself to his God entirely, body and soul, with all his gifts and talents, and in all relations of life. Thus religion embraces the entire man with all his thoughts and feeling and volitions. It has its seat in the heart, where all the faculties of the human soul are seen in their unity. In view of this fact we can readily understand the Scriptural emphasis on the heart as that which we must give unto the Lord, Deut. 30:6; Prov. 23:26; Jer. 24:7; 29:13. Out of the heart are the issues of life, Prov. 4:23. And in religion the heart takes possession of the intellect, Rom. 10:13, 14; Heb. 11:6, of the feelings,
Ps. 28:7; 30:12, and of the will, Rom. 2:10, 13; Jas. 1:27, 1 John 1:5–7.
The whole man is made subservient to God in every sphere of life.
"In de religie," says Dr. J. H. Bavinck, "dalen wij af tot het wezen van den mensch. Daar waar de waarlijk religieuze krachten in den mensch tot ontwaking komen hebben wij het meest met hemzelf te doen. Daar klopt de ziel zelve in, de mensch, in de wereld gevangen, staat op en zegt tot zichzelven: ik zal naar mijnen Vader gaan."
C. The Origin of Religion Different methods have been applied in the study of the origin of religion. During the last century persistent attempts have been made to explain it as a purely natural phenomenon. This was the inevitable result of the application of the philosophy of evolution. Both the historical and the psychological methods were the fruit of this tendency. It may be said that in these naturalism is largely pitted against supernaturalism. In this chapter little more than a bare indication of these methods can be given.
1. THE HISTORICAL METHOD. The historical method aims at discovering the origin of religion by studying the history of mankind, with special attention to its primitive religions. According to Edwards this method seeks to answer such questions as the following: "How did religion first appear in time and place? In what way did the religious nature of man first express itself? What was the most rudimentary form of religion, from which all other forms may be said to have developed?" But these are questions which no historian can answer with any degree of assurance. He cannot go back far enough in history to observe man in the process of becoming religious, for man is already religious at the very dawn of history.
Moreover, there are no records of the oldest forms of religion, either in written documents or in trustworthy traditions. And if this is so, then the question naturally arises, How can the historian ever find a satisfactory answer to the questions which present themselves here?
Edwards says that "by a sympathetic study of the mind and ways of modern savages and of children, and by constructive imagination on the basis of such study, the anthropologist may rebuild for us the religion of the primitive man. His reconstruction must necessarily be purely hypothetical." All this means that the historian who would investigate the origin of religion must take his stand on pre-historical ground, and that as a result he can only suggest theories, which may be shrewd guesses but do not carry conviction. Moreover, the advocates of the historical method make a fundamental mistake, when they proceed on the assumption, based on the theory of evolution, that the religious life of the most primitive peoples reflects religion in its earliest and original form. This is, of course, merely a bare assumption rather than an established fact, and does not take into account the possibility that the earliest known forms may be corruptions of a far earlier form. It has long been taken for granted that the original form of religion was polytheistic, but the investigations of Lang, Radin, Schmidt, and others have found traces of the recognition of "high gods," also called "creator gods," among peoples of very low culture, and regard these as evidences of an original monotheism.
We shall mention a few of the theories suggested to explain the origin of religion, not because of their inherent value, but mainly to illustrate the insufficiency of this method. Some anthropologists found the historical explanation of religion in the cunning of priests or the craft of rulers, who exploited the credulity and the fears of the ignorant masses, in order to gain control over them. This view is so superficial that it finds no support in scientific circles today. Others were of the opinion that the higher forms of religion developed out of fetish-worship. But while this may explain the origin of certain forms of religion, it does not explain the origin of religion as such, since this fetish-worship is already religion and therefore itself requires explanation. Moreover, wherever it is in vogue, there are generally also manifest traces of an earlier higher form of religion. The fetishes themselves are frequently mere symbols of religious objects. The theories of Tyler and Spencer are closely related. The former is of the opinion that the conception of a soul or other-self, located somewhere in the body and continuing after death, gradually developed among the earliest men; and that animism (from anima, soul), as the doctrine of souls, expanded in the course of time into the doctrine of spirits, whether gods or devils, as objects of worship.
The theory of Spencer is related to that of Tyler but is more specific.
It suggests ancestorism, the worship of the souls of departed ancestors, as the most fundamental form of religion. According to him primitive peoples ascribed great influence to the spirits of departed ancestors, and consequently acquired the habit of praying, and of offering sacrifices, to them. But these theories are also unsatisfactory. They fail to explain the very forms they assume, the worship of the spirits of the departed, and the universal underlying conviction that these spirits are gods highly exalted above men.
Moreover, wherever this spirit-worship is found, there is also a separate and distinct worship of the gods. Durkheim criticized these theories of Tyler and Spencer, and offered instead a sociological theory of the origin of religion. He found the origin of religious belief in the idea of a mysterious impersonal force controlling life, a sense of power derived from the authority of society over the individual.
The sense of the power of the social group develops into the
consciousness of a mysterious power in the world. The totem is the visible emblem of this power; it is the emblem of the tribe; and in worshipping the totem man worships the tribe. Man's real god is society, and the power which he worships is the power of society. But this theory was also severely criticized by other scientists, and that from various points of view. It is no more satisfactory than the others as an explanation of the origin of religion. The theory of naturism was brought into the limelight especially by Pfleiderer. According to this theory religion was originally merely respect for the great and imposing phenomena of nature, in the presence of which man felt himself weak and helpless. This feeling of respect led to the worship, in some cases of these phenomena themselves, and in others of the invisible power(s) revealing itself in them. But the question naturally arises, How did man ever hit upon the idea of worshipping nature?
May not this nature-worship, which is undoubtedly prevalent in some tribes, be the result of a decline from a purer stage of religious belief and practice? Like all the preceding hypotheses, this theory also fails to offer any explanation whatsoever of religion on its psychological side. In more recent times it was suggested that the origin of religion is connected with the belief in magic. Some think that the former in some way evolved out of the latter, but Frazer, who is the great authority on this subject, claims that the contribution of magic to religion was negative rather than positive. Man tried magic first, but was disappointed, and the despair of magic gave birth to religion. On the whole the result of this historical investigation is very disappointing as an explanation of the origin of religion.
2. THE PSYCHOLOGICAL METHOD. It was felt in the course of time that the historical method had to be supplemented by the psychological, and this is now regarded as the more important of the two. This method raises the question as to the source of religion in man's spiritual nature, not merely in the beginning, but everywhere and always. Edwards puts the questions thus: What are the constant factors in the inner life of man which, in interplay with the environment, generate the attitude which we call religious? What are the impulses, promptings, motives, felt needs, which lead him to
apprehend the supernatural and to adjust his life to it? What is there in his mental make-up that accounts for the fact that wherever man is found he has some form or other of religion?" The psychological method seeks to derive religion from certain factors in man, which are not themselves religious, but which by combination and in cooperation with man's natural environment give rise to religion.
It will hardly do to say, as some have done, that man is religious because he has a religious instinct, for this supposed instinct is already religious, and is therefore the very thing to be explained. It is equally unsatisfactory to account for religion, as others have done, by holding that man has a religious faculty, for there is no proof for the existence of such a faculty, and if there were, this faculty itself would require explanation. Schleiermacher sought the explanation of religion in feeling, more particularly, in a feeling of dependence, but failed to explain how a mere feeling of dependence passed into a religious attitude. Some suggest that the transition may be found in a feeling of awe, which is akin to fear, in the presence of unknown but mighty powers. But fear is not yet religion and does not necessarily lead to worship. Moreover, religious emotion is far too complex to be explained in such a simple way. It includes not only awe, wonder, and admiration, but also gratitude, love, hope, and joy. Kant and Ritschl find the origin of religion in the desire of man to maintain himself as a free moral being over against the physical world. Man is conscious of the fact that he, as a spiritual being, is of far greater value than the whole natural world, and therefore ought to control this. At the same time he cannot help feeling that, as to the physical side of his being, he is simply a part of nature, and that in striving for ethical and spiritual ends he is repeatedly thwarted by natural conditions. This tension results in an attempt on the part of man to realize his destiny by believing and resting in a higher being that controls the natural order and makes it subservient to spiritual ends.
On this view God becomes merely a helper in time of need. But seeking help with a higher being is not yet religious adoration.
Moreover, this theory does not explain the origin of such religious phenomena as consciousness of guilt, penitence, desire for
redemption, prayer for forgiveness, and so on. Neither does it account for the universality of the felt need of God, despite the fact that discoveries and inventions make it increasingly possible for man to maintain himself over against nature. Evolutionists made the attempt to demonstrate the development of religion out of such characteristics as a sense of dependence, fidelity, attachment, and love, as these are present in the animal world. But this attempted explanation can hardly be called successful. The so-called "doctrine" of evolution is still a mere hypothesis, and what is said about the inner "soul" life of the animals is largely conjectural. And the assumptions that seem to be warranted on this point still leave the most important elements of religion unexplained.
Modern psychologists differ so greatly in their suggested explanations of the origin of religion that we cannot begin to enumerate them. Nor do we consider it necessary to do this.
The psychological method labors under a difficulty similar to that with which the historical method is burdened. It must take its starting point in a hypothetical man, so undeveloped and barbarian that he has not even a spark of religion in him. Religion must be derived from factors that are not themselves religious. But Dr.
Bavinck correctly says that such a man is a pure Gedankending, an empty abstraction. In reality such men do not exist. Moreover, this method makes religion dependent on an accidental concourse of circumstances. If the complex in which the explanation of religion is sought had been slightly different, religion would never have originated. This, of course, robs religion of its independent significance, of its universality and necessity, and of its incalculable worth. If it is purely accidental, it lacks the firm foundation on which it ought to rest. But this is not all: religion really becomes an absurdity, when it is explained without assuming the existence of a God. According to the psychological method man creates his own
God, and determines how that God must be served. The relation between the religio objectiva and the religio subjectiva is reversed, and the latter becomes the source of the former. In principle this
method conflicts with the essence of religion and virtually destroys the phenomenon which it ought to explain.
3. THE THEOLOGICAL METHOD. Speaking of the origin of religion, Edwards says that there are two views "which were once widely prevalent, but which are now obsolete or obsolescent. The first is the view that traced religion back to a primitive or a special
Divine revelation." He rejects this view as being, in its usual forms, too intellectual and mechanical, pre-scientific and crudely unpsychological. However, it is the Biblical view of the origin of religion, and is far more satisfying than any of the historical and psychological views that were offered to the world. In distinction from these, it alone contains a real explanation of the universal phenomenon of religion. Both the historical and the psychological method proceed on the assumption that religion, like science and art, must be explained in a purely naturalistic way, though some of their protagonists—Edwards being one of these—feel that it may be necessary in the last analysis to appeal to some sort of revelation.
The theological method, on the other hand, maintains that religion can only find its explanation in God. Religion, being communion of the soul with God, naturally implies that God exists, that He has revealed Himself, and that He has so constituted man that the latter can know Him, is conscious of kinship with Him, and is even prompted by nature to seek after Him. While the historical and psychological methods are not even able to explain religion in its most primitive forms, the theological method offers us the key to the explanation, not only of the lowest, but also of the highest there is in religion. And of course a real explanation can be satisfied with nothing less than that. It is the only method that is in harmony with the real nature of religion. Scientists do not start out with a normative view of religion, and then undertake to explain the origin of it. They begin with a study of the phenomena of the religious life, and then adapt their views, their definitions, of religion to their findings. This gives rise to a great number of historical definitions which utterly fail to do justice to that which is essential in religion.
On the basis of God's revelation, the theological method posits the following truths: a. The existence of God. If in religion we are concerned with the most intimate relationship between God and man, then it naturally involves the assumption that God exists. And we frankly proceed on the assumption that there is a personal God. It is true, many consider it unscientific to refer anything back to God. They admit that the Hebrews did this, but find the explanation for that in the fact that these people lived in a pre-scientific age. Consequently their explanations may meet with an indulgent smile, but cannot now be taken seriously. Over against this it may be said, however, that it is a poor science that may not rise above the visible and experimental, and is not permitted to take God into account. And this is doubly true of all scientific attempts to explain the origin of religion without any reference to God, for apart from Him religion is an absurdity.
Religion is either an illusion, because God does not exist or cannot be known; or it is founded on reality, but then it presupposes the existence and the revelation of God. b. The Divine Revelation. We also proceed on the assumption that God has revealed Himself. The idea of revelation is, in some form or other, found in all religions, and this proves quite sufficiently that it is a necessary corollary of religion. There is no religion in any real sense of the word apart from a divine revelation. If God had not revealed Himself in nature, in providence, and in experience, there would be no religion among the Gentile nations of the world; and there would be no true religion in any part of the world today, if God had not enriched man with His special revelation, enbodied in His divine Word, because it is exactly this revelation, as the religio objectiva, which determines the worship and service that is acceptable to Him. The religio subjectiva owes its inception, its development, and its proper regulation instrumentally to the religio objectiva. Divorced from its objective foundation, religion turns into a will-worship that is purely arbitrary.
c. Man's creation in the image of God. A third presupposition is that God so constituted man that he has the capacity to understand and to respond to the objective revelation. Religion is founded in the very nature of man, and was not imposed upon him from without in a somewhat mechanical way. It is a mistake to think that man first existed without religion, and was endowed with this later on as a sort of superadditum. The very idea of revelation presupposes the existence of a religious consciousness in man. Created in the image of God, man has a natural capacity for receiving and appreciating the self-communication of God. And in virtue of his original endowment man seeks communion with God, though under the influence of sin he now, as long as he is left to his unaided powers, seeks it in the wrong way. It is only under the influence of God's special revelation and of the illumination of the Holy Spirit, that the sinner can, at least in principle, render to God the service that is due to Him.
This view is not open to the criticism voiced by Edwards in the following words: "In its usual forms the doctrine of revelation has explained the origin of religion in far too intellectual and mechanical a fashion, as if religion began with the impartation to man of a set of ideas, ready-made and finished ideas poured into a mind conceived as a kind of empty vessel. This is a crudely unpsychological view." He speaks of the view that must be traced back to a primitive or special revelation as "obsolete or obsolescent," but admits that the "category of revelation may be ultimately necessary in a statement of the objective ground of the validity of religious beliefs and in order to safeguard the place of the divine initiative in the religious life of man." He insists, however, that it should be the idea of a continuous and progressive revelation. But when he says this he has in mind the kind of revelation which, from another point of view, may also be called human discovery.
QUESTIONS FOR FURTHER STUDY: Does the present emphasis on the immanence of God in any way affect the current conceptions of religion? Can the psychology of religion be of great assistance in the study of the essential nature of religion? How does the philosophy of
the psychologists affect their investigations in the field of religion? Is it proper to speak of man as having a religious instinct or a religious faculty? Is it correct to say that affections are more fundamental in religion than either the intellect or the will? Why is it wrong to study merely the lowest forms of the religious life of man, in order to explain the origin of religion? Are there conclusive proofs that the higher forms of religion developed out of the lower? What can be said in favor of the idea that the historical process in religion was one of deterioration rather than of development?
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