We readily understand our responsibility for our actions when we know what is right, but are hardly as ready to see that we are also responsible for our hearing and understanding and knowing. We say, "I did not know," or "I did not understand," and we think that releases us from all blame. A young man fails to keep an important early appointment, and explains that he is sorry, but absolutely did not hear his alarm clock. That is good just so far. If he did not hear it, it would be unreasonable to expect him to respond to it. But that is just half the tale. The next question is: "Why did you not hear it?" And then it appears that time and again before this occasion he had heard and ignored the call of the clock until it had ceased to make any impression on him. Then came a critical test, and he failed. He was responsible for not hearing the clock. And a man excuses himself for disobedience on the grounds that the gospel does not "appeal" to him, or that he can not believe, or that it is not plain enough, and often he has ignored the call of truth and stifled the voice of conscience; but there is no evading the ultimate responsibility for him who refused the Light. [142]

      There are men honestly skeptical toward the revelation of God, for no other reason at the bottom than that it is too good to be believed. This is especially the melancholy mental attitude of the highly educated, where they are of that more ingenuous class who weigh the matter seriously and who do not deserve to be numbered among the shallow, indifferent scoffers. It seems incredible to them, in the first place, that God, the Maker of all things, would speak to us. Their studies in science enlarge their conception of the universe, in the enormous vastness of which the earth amounts to nothing, and enhances their reverence and awe for its infinite Creator; and it also removes God far from them. They feel infinitely insignificant in reference to him and his works. For them, they are convinced, not an atom would change its relation, not the least law of nature would vary ever so little. They are as a stranger in a great city--lost in the multitude of the wondrous workings and creations of God. God, as Science sees him, is far off, inaccessible. If he were accessible, it could not avail; for laws govern all things, and they can not change in favor of any man. In fact, God is superfluous in the scheme of science, except, perhaps, as a hypothesis for the ultimate origin and cause of all things, which, after all, must stand as one of the unsolved mysteries. So many scientists have abandoned him entirely or plead agnosticism. But in any case he is not a living Power to be reckoned with. Above all, he can not care particularly for the individual.

      To such a mind, that the Maker of all nature and the world has taken notice and specially cares; that he loves the world and every man in it; that he has spoken to us, or even sent his Son to be his Representative and to die on our behalf--this seems wholly incredible. [143]

      If, further, they believe in God at all, and even accept it as possible that he might care something for us, it can not be, to their mind, a redeeming God. Their conception of sin is at most that of violated law--a disturbance of the established order of things, which must result in suffering. The suffering is remedial and readjusts the balance of things. The only cleansing and salvation possible is the reshaping of one's character, cultivating new habits and suffering willingly undergone to make expiation for past transgressions. This is the only view philosophy can take; and, strange to say, it is the essence of Buddhism.

      This is the view that has taken hold on the educated mind of today. It is the undercurrent of Emerson's teaching. It appears constantly in the press and the philosophy and the fiction of the present time--this dreary faith in a reign of law, which leaves us without God, without Father, without hope in the world.

      If it may be called a religion at all, it is a religion of despair, which must cover its melancholy and still the hearts of men by a forced cheerfulness and an optimism that will not bear inquiry. In fact, at this point we are advised to close our eyes to facts and "look on the bright side of things." Hence, also, the success of the New Thought movement, which is the logical outcome, by reaction, of the Buddhism above mentioned--an endeavor of the heart to reach peace by a wild "faith" where reason leaves us disconsolate.

      And at the bottom it is because the gospel seems too good to be believed. If only with simple heart, like unto little children, they could come and hear the story and learn to believe in God's love--the good story of the cross of Christ--the loving invitation to the heavy laden; if only they would accord credibility to that word that cleanses and heals and uplifts, and which will stand long [144] after their fragmentary knowledge and fleshly philosophy shall have been forgotten, how much better would it be!

[TAG 142-145]