The Bible and Agnosticism
“Worship Him that made heaven and earth.” Rev. 14:7. THE religious knowledge of which the Sabbath is a memorial, and the religion of which it is the sign, take their root in the all-embracing and ever-enduring principle of God as the Creator and upholder of the universe. And the scientific knowledge of which the Sabbath is also the memorial, and the science of which it is the sign, take their root in the selfsame principle that God is the special Creator and preserver of heaven and earth. Between that religious knowledge and that scientific knowledge, and between that religion and that science, there is no difference save in the matter of their interpretation; for tho the knowledge of religion must come in most part from revelation, and the knowledge of science in the main from the material creation, yet the two are but different aspects of harmonious truth. They weave and interweave, being bound together by the great unity of God, and by His oneness with all who are and all that is in harmony with Him. But not all who have the knowledge of religion, believe literally and uncompromisingly the first verse of the first chapter of Genesis; and many who have large scientific knowledge — in fact the greater portion of those who have such knowledge — deny the literal and plain interpretation of this first portion of the Bible. The doubts of both these classes come from listening to the cavilings of those who deny to our world the large supernatural working of the Creator. “Through faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God.” “Through faith we understand.” Many seem to think that some things must be understood by looking with the eyes, by hearing with the ears, by feeling with the hands, by juggling test-tubes and manipulating balances, and by ransacking the brain; but the Word declares that this truth of creation is not thus understood. It is apprehended by faith alone. “Through faith we understand.” This is because creation is too large for the unassisted mind of man. We know only that which comes within our narrow range of experience. We are prone to read all other things in the light of that experience. But there are no processes in existence to-day that can give any large light upon the mighty process of the creative work. There are no forces now, no methods of growth, no forms of development, that can build a world, give it never so many eons, provided, of course, it start where this world started; namely, with darkness and a formless void. But He who built the universe has described to us the process in so far as we can receive it. We are not left to guess at the matter; we are not left to meager theories, inadequate hypotheses, and subtle speculations. We are told in language plain and clear of the wonderful work of that wonderful time when earth began. And now “through faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God.” But not all men have faith. Not all men through faith understand. Such men have chosen to call themselves agnostics, which is the Greek word for one who knows not, for whom the Latin word is “infidel.” Agnosticism is the science of knowing what not to know, or at least of knowing what it will be best, for argument’s sake, not to know. It points out not only the unknown, but also that which is unknowable. Now it appears to us that, if a thing is unknown to an agnostic, it is very unwise and very much against his don’t-know creed to claim so much as to know that anything he doesn’t know is unknowable. But this is just what some of them claim. Spencer has told us, for example, that “the power which the universe manifests to us is utterly unscrutable.” How does he know that it is unscrutable? If a thing is wholly unknown to a man, he is in complete ignorance of it. And being in this dense ignorance, he can assert only that it is unknown. He can not logically say that it is unknowable even to himself; for he knows not what moment the light may pierce the gloom. And to say that in the absolute sense it is unknowable to all, is for a philosopher to commit philosophical suicide. God is knowable. More than that: God is known by His works. Rightly contemplated, material things reveal their Maker: (Rom. 1:20.) If the agnostic would stick to his creed of “I don’t know,” he would be at least consistent with that creed; but when he tells us that he knows that things can not be known, he gets outside his creed, and makes himself ridiculous. The agnostic knows too much. He is hardly consistent. He knows just what to know and what not to know in order to pass in certain quarters as a great and learned man. When, for instance, the believer in the Bible teaches the doctrine of special creation, our agnostic smiles, looks superior, and reminds his Christian acquaintance that all knowledge of the past must come to us by assuming that nothing has been produced by causes different in kind from those to which they now owe their origin. “Geology,” says Agnostic Huxley, the first of the genus, “could tell us nothing except for the assumption that, millions of years ago, water, heat, gravitation, friction, animal and vegetable life, caused effects of the same kind as they now cause. Nay, even physical astronomy . . . is founded upon the same assumption.”5 Thus the agnostic thinks he puts a damper on the enthusiasm of the Christian. He argues that “all things continue as they were from the beginning of the creation.” That is, he argues that way when he is fighting the Christian doctrine of a special creation. But when he is arguing for the evolutionary hypothesis and spontaneous generation he talks quite differently. We have just read Huxley’s words that science is founded on the assumption that what is now always has been. Now let us put with it other words of Huxley. This will be a case of Huxley versus Huxley; and One of authority once said, “A house divided against itself can not stand.” This agnostic first of all admits that the doctrine of life only from antecedent life is victorious all along the whole line at the present day. Admitting that spontaneous generation is impossible in nature now, he says: “If it were given me to look beyond the abyss of geologically recorded time to the still more remote period when the earth was passing through physical and chemical conditions which it can no more see again than a man may recall his infancy, I should expect”—what? That everything was produced by causes in the same way that they are to-day?—By no means. “I should expect to be,” he says, “a witness of the evolution of living protoplasm from not living matter, under forms of great simplicity.” Now what do you think of that? Thus agnostics believe in something that does not now take place; they admit it can not and doubtless never can take place; and furthermore they admit that they have no evidence that it ever did take place. And yet, without past, present, or future evidence of spontaneous generation, “because they need it in their business,” they declare their belief in it. After such profession of faith on their part, I am sure they have no ground for taunting the Christian because of credulity. Huxley, after stating this preposterous belief of his, admits he has no reason to call it anything but philosophic faith. Faith, mind you. And this from a man who thinks about faith in this fashion: “The man of science has learned to believe in justification, not by faith, but by verification.” “Skepticism is the highest of duties; blind faith the one unpardonable sin.”—“Methods and Results,” pages 40, 41. Thus is knowledge justified of her children, and consistency found to be a jewel. But as the Word says, when men argue that all things continue as they were from the beginning of creation, they are willingly ignorant of the fact that there have been mighty cataclysms, and nature has not taken an even course. And these modern scientists know that if there has been no change at any time, and if the conditions that now exist always existed, there could be no origin to this world. Nothing originates now. There is no new thing under the sun. And to argue for no change is to argue for the eternity of the world. But every man, be he scientist or religionist, believes in a beginning. The Christian points back to the special creation of this world by the almighty fiat of God. The agnostic points back to the living evolving from the not-living “under forms of great simplicity.” Look on the two views, and take your choice. Hidden from the wise and prudent and revealed to babes! Thus it seemed good in the sight of God. The agnostic, while in name he denies knowledge, in profession claims all knowledge, a knowledge beyond his fellows. He not only knows all that is known, but he knows also all the things that can’t be known. These he has most conveniently labeled, and put away on the shelf, where they won’t bother or distress him. The promoters of fresh scientific ideas have established the fact “that minds as yet untrained are more accessible to new truths than those occupied, encumbered, glutted with fixed ideas.” The Word of God, rightly tested, has in its own words the proof of its heavenly origin. Huxley, who seemed to know so much of how this world did and did not come into existence, admits that his theory of evolution will not account for the religion of the Bible. Quoting the words of Micah, “And what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?” he says: “If any so-called religion takes away from this great saying of Micah, I think it wantonly mutilates; while, if it adds thereto, I think it obscures the perfect ideal of religion. But what extent of knowledge, what acuteness of scientific criticism, can touch this, if any one possessed of knowledge, or acuteness, could be absurd enough to make the attempt? Will the progress of research prove that justice is worthless and mercy hateful; will it ever soften the bitter contrast between our actions and our aspirations; or show us the bounds of the universe, and bid us say, Go to, now we comprehend the infinite?”—“Science and Hebrew Tradition,” pages 161, 162. If the Bible, according to Huxley’s notion, holds false science, it certainly holds, in his opinion, “the perfect ideal of religion,” which can not be in any way improved. If a bramble-tree can not produce grapes, whence came these life-giving clusters of the vine of truth? After all the criticisms, arguments, speculations, theories, and conjectures, are in and safely cared for, “I take again my old Bible, and I say to it: Just as thou art, I love thee, thou who dost weep with all our tears and shout aloud with our joys! It is sweet to read thee after the fashion of the ignorant, so great thou art in thy anonymity and thy eternity! Thy authors and thy origin are of small account; the human soul has brought thee forth in suffering and in hope; thou makest the measure of its mercy and its nobility. And I love in thee all those who have drunk at thy sources, reposed in thy shade, and laid their heads upon thee for the last sleep.” Can that which is thus so true to all the highest and best there is in the soul of man and the world, be false and untrue in all its supernatural aspects? And when it comes to this “last sleep,” is it the natural or the supernatural of the Word that gives us hope? The agnostic trumpets his ignorance. He confesses his spiritual numbness. And the Christian never misses the mark farther than when he refuses this testimony of the agnostic. When the agnostic tells us he is deaf, blind, dumb, torpid, and dead to the spiritual world, we must believe him. It is the Word of God Himself. “The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: . . . neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.” “Except a man be born of water and the Spirit,” “he can not see the kingdom.” “The nescience of the agnostic philosophy is the proof from experience that to be carnally minded is death.” A deaf man knows not the world of music; a blind man knows not the beauties of light; and the natural man knows not the things of the Spirit of God. They are discerned only by the spiritual sense. The agnostic may not be a monster, but he is a dwarf. He can not be anything else and be an agnostic. Plants are not the only things that can be dwarfed. You can dwarf a soul, if you keep it out of its true life element. For a time it may have a name to live; but like a plant shut away from the light, its sickly pallor shows the awful inroads of disease and degeneration. While living outwardly a life above reproach, it is nevertheless a case of arrested life and growth. Having a name to live, it steadily approaches death. With Ruskin, we do not wonder at what men suffer, but we wonder at what they lose. Against the idea of a natural religion and a natural science, we put the idea of a supernatural religion and a supernatural science. And this mighty supernature is revealed in that special creation when God spoke the word, and all things both natural and spiritual stood up before Him. Opposed to agnosticism is the clear understanding which comes through not blind, but intelligent faith. And the great bulwark against this know-nothingness of agnosticism is the Sabbath truth of the work and rest of God. It stands to remind us of the supernatural working of creation, that still works as at the first to make man, as well as all things ultimately, even as God declared them at the first to be, “good;” yea, very good.