The Meaning of “The New Religion” by William Warren Prescott

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Oct 14, 1909

The Meaning of “The New Religion”

By William Warren Prescott

The somewhat formal pronouncement of Dr. Charles W. Eliot, president emeritus of Harvard College, concerning the religion of the future has attracted considerable attention. This is probably due quite as much to the prominence of the man as to the position taken, since Dr. Eliot does little more than to put into definite form the logical conclusions of the rather hazy assertions and denials of other well-known advocates of liberal ideas.

This open repudiation of those truths which have long been regarded as fundamental to Christianity has called out from some who still maintain the original faith a vigorous protest and a strong affirmation of their confidence in the old-fashioned gospel of Christ as the only Saviour. A notable example is an article in the Missionary Review of the World for October, written by the editor-in-chief, Dr. A. T. Pierson, whose earnest testimony to the truth we have had occasion to commend at different times. Our quotation from this article is rather long, but we believe that it will be read with interest:—

The “new religion,” which is in reality neither new nor a religion, but a philosophy, is rather negative than positive, rather destructive than constructive. It is difficult to frame any creed out of mere negations. But, if we attempt to articulate into organic form the denials of our day, there seems to be no belief in any final authority outside the human reason and conscience. There is no longer an infallible church nor an infallible Bible. “Man, in the present generation, is ready to be led, not driven,” and is a law unto himself. The belief in human depravity is abandoned, and there are “no malignant powers.” Sin is not guilt, but misfortune, and is to be dealt with not as deserving judicial penalty, but medical and ethical treatment, not hell but a hospital, not punishment or pardon, but new environment and culture. The expiatory death of Christ is denied, with all “safety thereby primarily afforded to the individual;” and it is denied that “character might be changed quickly,” or that “Christ is in any way essential to religion.”

Whether the vague new religion can be formulated in a creed is very doubtful; but if it can be, it would read somewhat thus:—

“I believe in a conception of God, a multiplication of infinities, and in creation by spontaneous generation and eternal evolution; and in Jesus Christ, as a distinguished ethical teacher, who was born of natural generation, suffered as a martyr for what he believed to be

truth, and was crucified, dead, and buried. He was reputed and believed by his disciples to have risen from the dead and to have ascended into heaven, and to be coming again to reign on earth as king.”

“I believe in the infallible ego, as the ultimate court of appeal in all matters of truth and duty, a universal church composed of all who are honest in their opinions, and upright in their conduct; in the communion of the cultured and the philanthropic, in the reformation of bad habits and the inculcation of virtue; in the proper care of the body, and the education of the mind; in scientific progress, college training, and the ‘spirit of the age;’ in ‘two great commandments—the love of God and the service of fellow men; in a life of altruism, and so in undying influence for good.”

In the above attempt to crystallize some of the tenets of the religion of the future into apprehensible form, there is no desire or design to misrepresent or caricature it. If we understand modern liberalism, it aims so to restate the beliefs of the ages as to suit and fit the progressive spirit of the twentieth century. We do not doubt the honesty of those who, with the courage of their convictions, make bold with their denials and affirmations. But we can not quite evade or avoid the vital inquiry, whether this new doctrine is sound and safe; whether Christianity has any essential, eternal facts and truths which can not be so modified without surrendering all its claims; whether such reconstruction is not in effect destruction. We are reminded of the Chinese method of slow execution—beginning at the fingers and toes and cutting off parts most remote from the centers of life, and slowly advancing toward the vital parts, meanwhile the life-blood gradually ebbing away. . . .

What now—to dismiss for the time all other issues—is the outlook for missions, if this new religion is to prevail? First of all, how are we to meet other religions? Is there any such thing as a “false faith”? or are all religious systems part of the “spiral movement,” or being toward perfection? If there is no court of last appeal beyond the “inner light,” what becomes of the decisions of that court when there is no unanimity of verdict? What we call “conscience” is a compound faculty, made up of judgment of the reason and an impulse or prompting of the moral sense. First, the judgment decides what is right or wrong, and then the sense of obligation or prohibition follows; but if the judgment errs, failing to discern moral quality, the moral prompting is unsafe—the blind leads the blind, and both fall into the ditch. Here lies the fallibility of conscience—in the fallibility of judgment. We have been comforted, amid all the divergences of human opinion, by the confidence that in the Word of God and the teachings of the Lord Jesus, we have an ultimate authority by which to correct even the errors of conscience—as by the siderial clock of God we correct the variations of our watches and chronometers. But if the new religion is true, and every man’s inner light is to be his guide, what are we to do when, according to our own deep conviction, the light that is in others be but darkness, and great darkness! Does it not, if this new religion is to prevail, become unnecessary and even intrusive and impertinent to plan a crusade against other men’s convictions and beliefs and say to them, as Paul did to the Athenians, “Whom ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto you”? Why not let men alone if evolution instead of revolution will bring them out into the final perfection of one faith?

Again: if there is no necessity of the expiatory death of our Lord Jesus Christ—if that death was not substitutionary or vicarious, what becomes of the doctrine of the gospel? Why longer preach a gospel of grace as “affording safety primarily for the individual”? If salvation is not by receiving Christ by faith, but by reformation of the character by works, and character can not be changed quickly, why depend upon the evangel? What we need is not preaching, but teaching—the school rather than the church, books rather than sermons. There is little use in any longer saying, “Look and live.” There is no new birth from above. If there is any heaven, it is entered by obeying the two commandments, love to God, service to man. We need no coming to the cross—we pay our own penalties for sin, and work out our own salvation from sin—the only crown of glory is that which every man makes out of his own best attainments, and whose gems are his own heroic achievements.

We do not wonder that modern liberalism has no world-wide missions. It has no motive to go into all the world, and no gospel to preach to every creature. It has no need of waiting to be endued with power from on high—for it has no pentecost, as it has no Calvary. Whether it has any resurrection from the dead does not appear, or any certainty of a future life. The ex-president of Harvard—an institution whose motto is “Pro Christo et humanitate”—seems to us to leave out the pro Christo altogether and put a pro ego in its place.

For ourselves we think the “old wine is better,” having tasted the new. “With charity to all, and malice toward none,” we can only say that the new religion, weighed in the balances, is found wanting. It takes away a personal God and Father, and substitutes a vague multiplication and aggregation of infinities. It robs us of a supreme court of final appeal and substitutes the inharmonious discordance of a thousand warring opinions. It denies the malignant powers, and leaves us to the mystery of wondering “who carries the devil’s business on?” and how it is that Satan and sin seem so intensely alive and real. It takes away salvation by grace, regeneration by the Spirit, atonement of the cross, and leaves man to do his best to reform himself, bearing his own sin, and learning to sow only what he is willing to reap. It makes all sudden conversion a deception and delusion, and makes time an essential factor in the slow change or growth of character. It substitutes obedience to two commandments for faith in Christ, and makes them the foundation, instead of the structure built upon him as the one foundation. It gets rid of all that is fundamental to the Christian system in the new building it rears. To our conception the new religion is not Christ, but Antichrist.

Dr. Pierson is right in his closing statement. Liberalism is just as much opposed to Christianity as is the Papacy, although in a different way, and apostate Protestantism will join with the Papacy in the war upon true Christianity. It remains for those who know the truth to proclaim with renewed vigor the message against both the beast and his image. This is the work for the present hour. W. W. P.