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LIBERTY AND LOVE
THE next question which had been put to Paul by the Corinthian
Church, and to which he now replies, is "touching things offered
unto idols," whether a Christian had liberty to eat such things or
not. This question necessarily arose in a society partly heathen and
partly Christian. Every meal was in a manner dedicated to the
household gods by laying some portion of it on the family altar.
Where one member of a heathen family had become a Christian, he
would
at once be confronted with the question, rising in his own
conscience, whether by partaking of such food he might not be
countenancing idolatry. On the occasion of a birthday, or a
marriage,
or a safe return from sea, or any circumstance that seemed to call
for celebration, it was customary to sacrifice in some public
temple.
And after the legs of the victim, enclosed in fat, and the entrails
had been burnt on the altar, the worshipper received the remainder,
and invited his friends and guests to partake of it either in the
temple itself, or in the surrounding grove, or at his own home. Here
again a young convert might very naturally ask himself whether he
was
justified in attending such a feast and actually sitting down to
meat
in the idol’s presence. Nor was it only personal friendships and the
harmony of family life that were threatened; but on public occasions
and national celebrations the Christian was in a strait betwixt two;
fearful, on the one band, of branding himself as no good citizen by
abstaining from participation in the feast, fearful, on the other
hand, lest by compliance he should be found unfaithful to his new
religion. And even though his own family was entirely Christian, the
difficulty was not removed, for much of the meat offered in worship
found its way into the. common market, so that at every meal the
Christian ran the risk of eating things sacrificed to idols.
Among the Jews it had always been considered pollution to eat such
food. Instances are on record of men dying cheerfully rather than
suffer such contamination. Few Jewish Christians could rise to the
height of our Lord’s maxim, "Not that which goeth into a man
defileth him." The Gentile converts also felt the difficulty of at
once throwing off all the old associations. When they entered the
temple where but a few months ago they had worshipped, the
atmosphere
of the place intoxicated them; and the long-accustomed sights
quickened their pulse and exposed them to serious temptation.
Others,
less sensitive, could use the temple as they would an ordinary
eating
house, without the slightest stirring of idolatrous feeling. Some
went to the houses of heathen friends as often as they were invited,
and partook of what was set before them, making no minute inquiries
as to how the meat had been provided, asking no questions for
conscience’ sake, but believing that the earth and its fulness were
the Lord’s, and that what they ate they received from God, and not
from an idol. Others, again, could not shake off the feeling that
they were countenancing idolatry when they partook of such feasts.
Thus there arose a diversity of judgment and a variance in practice
which must have given rise to much annoyance, and which did not
appear to be approaching any nearer to a final and satisfactory
settlement.
In answer to the appeal made to him on this subject, it might seem
that Paul had nothing to do but quote the deliverance of the Council
of Jerusalem, which determined that Gentile converts should be
commanded to abstain from meats offered to idols. Paul himself had
obtained that deliverance, and was satisfied with it; but now he
makes no reference to it, and treats the question afresh. In the
epistles of the Lord to the Churches, embodied in the Book of
Revelation, the eating of things sacrificed to idols is spoken of in
strongly, condemnatory language; and in one of the very earliest
non-canonical documents of the primitive Church we find the precept,
"Abstain carefully from things offered to idols, for that is worship
of dead gods." Paul’s disregard of the decision of the Council is
probably due to his belief that that decision was merely provisional
and temporary. He had founded Churches which could scarcely be
expected to go. past himself for guidance; and as the situation in
the Corinthian Church was different from what it had been in
Antioch,
he felt justified in treating the matter afresh. And while in the
early Church the partaking of sacrificial food which Paul allowed
was
sometimes vehemently condemned, this was due to the circumstance
that
it was sometimes used as a test of a man’s abandonment of idolatry.
Of course where this was the case no Christian could possibly be in
doubt regarding the proper course to follow. What a man may freely
do
in ordinary circumstances, he may not do if he is warned that
certain
inferences will be drawn from his action.
The case laid before Paul, then, belongs to the class known as
matters morally indifferent. These are matters upon which conscience
does not uniformly give the same verdict even among persons brought
up under the same moral law. On mingling with society, everyone
finds
that there are many points of conduct regarding which there is not
an
unanimous consent of judgment among the most delicately
conscientious
people, and upon which it is difficult to decide even when we are
anxious to do right. Such points are the lawfulness of attending
certain places of public amusement, the propriety of allowing
oneself
to be implicated in certain kinds of private amusements or
entertainments, the way of spending Sunday, and the amount of
pleasure, refinement, and luxury one may admit into his life.
The state of feeling produced in Corinth by the discussion of such
topics is apparent from Paul’s mode of treating the question put to
him. His answer is addressed to the party who claimed superior
knowledge, who wished to be known as the party which stood for
liberty of conscience, and probably for the Pauline axiom, "All
things are lawful for me." Paul does not directly address those who
had scruples about eating, but those who had none. He does not speak
to, hut only of the "weak" brethren who had still conscience of the
idol. And apparently a good deal of ill-feeling had been engendered
in the Corinthian Church by the different views taken. This is
always
the trouble in connection with morally indifferent matters. They do
little harm if each holds his own opinion, genially and endeavours
to
influence others by a friendly statement of his own practice and the
grounds of it. But in most instances it happens as in Corinth: those
who saw that they could eat without contamination scorned those who
had scruples; while, on their side, the scrupulous judged the eaters
to be worldly timeservers, in a perilous state, less godly and
consistent than themselves.
As a first step towards the settlement of this matter, Paul makes
the
largest concession to the party of liberty. Their clear perception
that an idol was nothing in the world, a mere bit of timber, and of
no more significance to a Christian than a pillar or a doorpost—this
knowledge is sound and commendable. At the same time, they need not
make quite so much of it as they were doing. In their letter of
inquiry they must have emphasised the fact that they were the party
of enlightenment, who saw things as they really were, and had freed
themselves from fantastic superstitions and antiquated ideas. Quite
true, says Paul, "we all have knowledge"; but you need not remind
me at every turn of your superior discernment of the Christian’s
true
position nor of your wonderfully sagacious discovery that an idol is
nothing in the world. Any Jewish schoolboy could have told you this.
I know that you understand the principles which should regulate your
intercourse with the heathen much better than the scrupulous do, and
that your views of liberty are my own. Let us then hear no more of
this. Do not always be returning upon this, as if this settled the
whole matter. You are in the right so far as regards knowledge, and
your brethren are weak; let that be conceded: but do not suppose you
settle the question or impress me more strongly with the
righteousness of your conduct by reiterating that you, whom your
brethren call lax and misguided, are better instructed in the
principle of Christian conduct than they. Once for all, I know this.
Does this, then, not settle the question? If—the party of liberty
might say—if we are right, if the idol is nothing, and an idol’s
temple no
more thanan ordinary dining room, does this not settle the whole
matter? By no means, says Paul. "Knowledge puffeth up, but charity
edifieth." You have as yet grasped only one end, and that the weaker
end, of the Christian rule. You must add love, consideration of your
neighbour, to your knowledge. Without this, knowledge is unwholesome
and as likely to do harm as to do good. In very similar terms the
founder of the Positive philosophy speaks of the evil results of
loveless knowledge. "I am free to confess," he says, "that
hitherto the Positive spirit has been tainted with the two moral
evils which peculiarly wait on knowledge. It puffs up, and it dries
the heart, by giving free scope to pride and by turning it from
love." It is indeed matter of everyday observation that men of ready
insight into moral and spiritual truth are prone to despise the less
enlightened spirits that stumble among the scruples which, like the
bats of the moral twilight, fly in their faces. The knowledge which
is not tempered by humility and love does harm both to its possessor
and to other Christians; it puffs up its possessor with scorn, and
it
alienates and embitters the less enlightened. Knowledge without
love,
knowledge which does not take into consideration the difficulties
and
scruples of brethren, cannot be admired or commended, for though in
itself a good thing and capable of being used for the advancement of
the Church, knowledge dissociated from charity can do good neither
to
him who possesses it nor to the Christian community. However the
possessors of such knowledge vaunt themselves as the men of progress
and the hope of the Church, it is not by knowledge alone the Church
can ever solidly grow. Knowledge does produce an appearance of
growth, a puffing up, an unhealthy, morbid growth, a mushroom,
fungous growth; but that which builds up the Church stone by stone,
a
strong, enduring edifice, is love. It is a good thing to have clear
views of Christian liberty, to have definite, firmly held ideas of
Christian conduct, to discard fretting scruples and idle
superstitions; add love to this knowledge, exercise it in a tender,
patient, self-denying, considerate, loving way, and you edify both
yourself and the Church: but exercise it without love, and you
become
a poor inflated creature, puffed up with a noxious gas destructive
of
all higher life in yourself and in others.
Paul’s law, then, is that liberty must be tempered by love; that the
individual must consider the society of which he forms a part; and
that, after his own conscience is satisfied regarding the legitimacy
of certain actions, he must further consider how the conscience of
his neighbour will be affected if he uses his liberty and does these
actions. He must endeavour to keep step with the Christian community
of which he forms a part, and must beware of giving offence to less
enlightened persons by his freer conduct. He must consider not only
whether he himself can do this or that with a good conscience, but
also how the conscience of those who know what he does will be
affected by it.
Applying this law to the matter in hand, Paul declares that, for his
own part, he has no scruples at all about meat. "Meat commendeth us
not to God: for neither, if we eat, are we the better; neither, if
we
eat not, are we the worse." If therefore I had to consult only my
own conscience, the matter would admit of prompt and easy solution.
I
would as soon eat in an idol’s temple as anywhere else. But all have
not the conviction we have that an idol is nothing in the world.
Some
are unable to rid themselves of the feeling that in eating
sacrificial meat they are paying an act of homage to the idol. "Some
with conscience of the idol," with the feeling that the idol is
present and accepting the worship, "eat the sacrificial meat as a
thing offered unto an idol, and their conscience being weak is
defiled." Their conscience is weak, not fully enlightened, not
purged of old superstition; but their conscience is their
conscience:
and if they feel they are doing a wrong thing and yet do it, they do
a wrong thing, and defile their conscience. Therefore we must
consider them as well as ourselves, for as often as we use our
liberty and eat sacrificial meat we tempt them to do the same, and
so
to defile their conscience. They know that you are men of sound and
clear spiritual discernment; they look up to you as guides: and if
they see you who have knowledge sitting at meat in the idol’s
temple,
must not they be emboldened to do the same, and so to stain and
harden their own conscience?
It is easy to imagine how this would be exemplified at a Corinthian
table. Three Christians are invited, with other guests, to a party
in
the house of a heathen friend. One of these invited Christians is
weakly scrupulous, unable to disentangle himself from the old
idolatrous associations connected with sacrificial meat. The other
two Christians are men of ampler view and more enlightened
conscience, and have the deepest conviction that scruples about
eating at a heathen table are baseless. All three recline at the
table; but, as the meal goes on, the anxious, scrutinising eye of
the
weak brother discerns some mark which identifies the meat as
sacrificial, or, fearing it may be so, he inquires of the servant,
and finds it has been offered in the temple: and at once he draws
the
attention of his Christian friends to this, saying, "This has been
offered in sacrifice to idols." One of his friends, knowing that
heathen eyes are watching, and wishing to show how superior to all
such scruples the enlightened Christian is and how genial and free a
religion is the religion of Christ, smiles at his friend’s scruples,
and accepts the meat. The other, quite as clear sighted and free
from
superstition, but more generous and more truly courageous,
accommodates himself to the scruple of the weak brother, and
declines
the dish, lest, by eating and leaving the scrupulous man without
support, he should tempt him to follow their example, contrary to
his
own conviction, and so lead him into sin. It need not be said which
of these men acts the friendly part and comes nearest to the
Christian principle of Paul.
In our own society similar cases necessarily arise. I, as a
Christian
man, and knowing that the earth and its fulness are the Lord’s, may
feel at perfect liberty to drink wine. Had I only myself to
consider,
and knowing that my temptation does not lie that way, I might use
wine regularly or as often as I felt disposed to enjoy a needed
stimulant. I may feel quite convinced in my own mind that morally I
am not one whit the worse of doing so. But I cannot determine
whether
I am to indulge myself or not without considering the effect my
conduct will have on others. There may be among my friends some who
know that their temptation does lie that way, and whose conscience
bids them altogether refrain. If by my example such persons are
encouraged to silence the voice of their own conscience, then I
incur
the incalculable guilt of helping to destroy a brother for whom
Christ died.
Or again, a lad has had the great good fortune to be brought up in a
Puritanic household, and has imbibed stringent moral principles,
with
perhaps somewhat narrow ideas. He has been taught, together with
much
else of the same character, that the influence of the theatre is in
our country demoralising, that one day in the week is little enough
to give to the claims of spiritual education, and so forth. But on
entering the life of a great city he is soon brought in contact with
men whose uprightness, and sagacity, and Christian spirit he cannot
but respect, but who yet read their weekly paper, or any book they
are interested in, as freely on Sunday as on Saturday, and who visit
the theatre without the slightest twinge of conscience. Now either
of
two things will probably happen in such a case. The young man’s
ideas
of Christian liberty may become clearer. He may attain the
standpoint
of Paul, and may see that fellowship with Christ can be maintained
in
conditions of life he once absolutely condemned. Or the young man
may
not grow in Christian perception, but being daunted by overpowering
example, and chafing under the raillery of his companions, may do as
others do, though still uneasy in his own conscience.
What is to be observed about this process, which is ceaselessly
going, on in society, is that the emboldening of conscience is one
thing, its enlightenment quite another. And were it possible to get
statistics of the proportion of cases in which the one process goes
on without the other, these statistics might be salutary. But we
need
no statistics to assure us that Christian people by selfishly using
their own liberty do continually lead less enlightened persons to
trample on their scruples and disregard their own conscience.
Constantly it happens in every department of human life that men who
once shrank from certain practices as wrong now freely engage in
them, although they are not in their own mind any more clearly
convinced of their legitimacy than they were before, but are merely
emboldened by the example of others. Such persons, if possessed of
any self-observation and candour, will tell you that at first they
felt as if they were stealing the indulgence or the gain the
practice
brings, and that they had to drown the voice of conscience by the
louder voice of example.
The results of this are disastrous. Conscience is dethroned. The
ship
no longer obeys her helm, and lies in the trough of the sea swept by
every wave and driven by every wind. It may indeed be said, What
harm
can come of persons less enlightened being emboldened to do as we do
if what we do is right? Is not that, most strictly speaking,
edification? It is not as if we emboldened anyone to transgress the
moral law; we are merely bringing our weak brother’s conduct up to
the level of our own. Do we not act wisely and well in so doing?
Again it must be answered, No, because, while yielding themselves to
the influence of your example, these persons abandon the guidance of
their own conscience, which may be a less enlightened, but is
certainly a more authoritative, guide than you. If the weak brother
does a right thing while his conscience tells him it is a wrong
thing, to him it is a wrong thing. "Whatsoever is not of faith is
sin"; that is to say, whatsoever is not dictated by a thorough
conviction that it is right is sin. It is sin which in some respects
is more dangerous than a sin of passion or impulse. By a sin of
passion the conscience is not directly injured, and may remain
comparatively tender and healthy; but when you refuse to acknowledge
conscience as your guide and accept some other person’s conduct as
that which may dictate to you what you may or may not do, you
dethrone conscience, and sap your moral nature. You shut your own
eyes, and prefer to be led by the hand of another person, which may
indeed serve you on this occasion; but the end will be a dog and a
string.
Two permanent lessons are preserved in this exposition which Paul
gives of the matter laid before him. The first is the sacredness or
supremacy of conscience. "Let every man be fully persuaded in his
own mind"; that is the one legitimate source of conduct. A man may
possibly do a wrong thing when he obeys conscience; he is certainly
wrong when he acts contrary to conscience. He may be helped to a
decision by the advice of others, but it is his own decision by
which
he must abide. He must act, not on the conviction of others, but on
his own. It is what he himself sees that must guide him. He is bound
to use every means to enlighten his conscience and to learn with
accuracy what is right and allowable, but he is also bound always to
act upon his own present perception of what is right. His conscience
may not be as enlightened as it ought to be. Still his duty is to
enlighten, not to violate it. It is the guide God has given us, and
we must not choose another.
The second lesson is that we must ever use our Christian liberty
with
Christian consideration of others. Love must mingle with all we do.
There are many things which are lawful for a Christian, but which
are
not compulsory or obligatory, and which he may refrain from doing on
cause shown. Duties he must of course discharge, regardless of the
effect his conduct may have on others. He may be quite sure he will
be misunderstood; he may be sure evil motives will be imputed to
him;
he may be sure disastrous consequences will be the first result of
his action; but if conscience says this or that must be done,
then all thought of consequences must be thrown to the winds, But
where conscience says, not "You must," but only "You may," then
we must consider the effect our using our liberty will have on
others. We lie as Christians under an obligation to consider others,
to lay aside all pride of advanced ideas, and this not merely that
we
may submit ourselves to those who know better than we, but that we
may not offend those who are bound by prejudices of which we are
rid.
We must limit our liberty by the scrupulosity of prejudiced,
narrow-minded, weak people. We must forego our liberty to do this or
that if by doing it we should shock or disturb a weak brother or
encourage him to overstep his conscience. As the Arctic voyager who
has been frozen up all winter does not seize the first opportunity
to
escape, but waits till his weaker companions gain strength enough to
accompany him, so must the Christian accommodate himself to the
weaknesses of others, lest by using his liberty he should injure him
for whom Christ died. Never was there a man who more fully
understood
the freedom of the Christian position than Paul; no man was ever
more
entirely lifted out of the mist of superstition and formalism into
the clear light of free, eternal life: but with this freedom he
carried a sympathy with weak and entangled beginners which prompted
him to exclaim, "If meat make any brother to offend, I will eat no
flesh while the world standeth, lest I make my brother to offend."
Our conduct must be limited and to a certain extent regulated by the
narrow mindedness, the scruples, the prejudices, the Weakness in
short, of others. We cannot say, I see my way to do so-and-so, let
my
friend think what he pleases; I am not to be trammelled by his
superstition or ignorance; let my conduct have what effect it will
on
him; I am not responsible for that; if he does not see it to be
right, I do, and I will act accordingly. We cannot speak thus if the
matter be indifferent; if it be a matter we can lawfully abstain
from, then abstain we must if we would follow the Apostle who
followed Christ. This is the practical law which stands in the
forefront of Christ’s teaching and was sealed by every day of His
life. It is enounced not only by St. Paul: "Destroy not him with thy
meat for whom Christ died"; "Through thy knowledge shall the weak
brother perish, for whom Christ died," but also in our Lord’s still
more emphatic words, "Whoso shall offend one of these little ones
which believe in Me, it were better for him that a millstone were
hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the
sea." Paul could not look on his weak brethren as narrow-minded
bigots, could not call them hard names and ride rough shod over
their
scruples; and to this delicate consideration he was aided by the
remembrance that these were the persons for whom Christ died. For
them Christ sacrificed, not merely a little feeling or a little of
His own way, but His own will and self entirely, And the spirit of
Christ is still manifested in all in whom He dwells, specially in
humility and yieldingness of disposition which is not led by
self-interest or self-complacency, but seeks the weal of other men.
Nothing shows us more distinctly the thorough manner in which St.
Paul partook of the spirit of Christ than his ability to say, "I
please all men in all things, not seeking mine own profit, but the
profit of many, that they may be saved. Be ye followers of me, even
as I also am of Christ."
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