Chapter XIV: God's Mysteries

"BELIEVE in it? No, I don't," said Nat Tyrrell, with decision. "Nor I don't see, for my part, how any reasonable being who trust in God's goodness, can put faith in the notion for one single instant."

"'Tisn't so very long, Nat, since you were all for setting me to rights for a crank you said I'd got," Madge remarked quietly, as she sat knitting on the bench in front of her cottage-door.

Mrs. Tyrrell, a silent sensible woman, sat beside her, occupied in like manner. Nannie was down on the ground close to her feet, after the fashion of a faithful little dog. Nat stood exactly in front, with his back to the garden-gate; while on one side of him lounged the stalwart figure of Ned Blayney, who was listening with a good-humoured smile to the discussion; and on the other stood a small sickly-looking man, Joe Whilly by name, and cobbler by profession, with a face of such rigid melancholy, that it was hard to imagine he could ever conjure up a smile.

"Seems to me," Madge added, "that the crank's on your side now, Nat."

"Begging your pardon, but it's nothing of the kind," responded Nat, with a degree of tartness, for he was by no means so ready as Madge to admit the possibility of being mistaken. "You and I think alike in a many things, no doubt, but we don't think alike here, and I dare say we never shall. I'll never believe salvation ain't freely offered to every man, woman, and child upon earth, to accept it if they will."

"Did I say it wasn't, Nat?" Madge began, but she checked herself, for another voice was saying,—

"Good evening, Tyrrell. How are you to-day, Mrs. Hardwicke?" And then after a few words of greeting to each, not omitting little Nannie, Mr. Prior added, "You seem very much interested about something, all of you."

"Just a talk we've got into," responded Madge. "I'm glad you've come, sir. Will you please to sit down, and Miss Mona too?"

"What has the talk been about?" asked Mr. Prior, accepting the offered chair. "It is so pleasant up here that I really think I must spare a few minutes before going on. But don't let me interrupt your discussion."

"We'd scarce got into a discussion yet," said Madge, half-smiling. "Joe Whilly had given us his mind, and Nat Tyrrell was giving a bit of his."

"Nat Tyrrell had better give the rest," suggested Mr. Prior.

"Have out with it, lad," said Ned Blayney encouragingly, as Nat shuffled about a little. "Parson never lets a fellow off, and he likes us to tell out our thoughts."

"Right, Blayney. I wish you to consider me one of yourselves for half-an-hour. What is it all about, Tyrrell? Let me see if I can help you in your perplexity."

"Well, sir, I don't know as I'm much perplexed neither," said Nat honestly. "I don't pretend to be anything of a born genius,—" Nat did his best to look modest,—"but I hope I'm equal to the understanding of this, sir."

"If you be, you're a deal cleverer than I," muttered Ned Blayney, rubbing his forehead disconsolately. "Whilly and you atween you has set all my wits and notions buzzing, like the bees in mother's hive."

"Let me hear," was all Mr. Prior said.

Nat had no objection at all to state his views. "Well, sir, 'tis just this. Whilly he don't hold with me. He goes in downright for the doctrine of election, sir. Now I don't."

"Don't go in for it?"

"No, sir. That's to say, I don't hold it. I've my Bible, sir, and I reads it night and morning, and I hope I understands what I reads. And my conclusion as I've come to is this. The doctrine of election is no Scriptural doctrine at all, sir. For why?" Nat was growing more at his ease now, and he began laying down the law, with the forefinger of one hand upon the palm of the other, as he was wont to do when expounding his own views among his fellow-workmen,—a very different matter, be it remarked, from expounding Bible-truths, though the two are often confounded together.

"For why, sir? Ain't it in the Bible, clear as daylight, that Jesus Christ died for all men, and that His salvation is freely offered to all? That's what 'I' hold to, sir. I'll preach and teach the Gospel with my latest breath, but I'll never be one of those who goes about, talking of election, and how God has chosen some men from all eternity to everlasting happiness, and created some only for everlasting misery, and man to have no choice at all in the matter, and however much he may wish to be saved, yet, if he isn't elect, he's lost to all eternity. No, no, I'll never go in for that. I believe salvation is offered to all, and all may be saved,—only men are so perverse and wrong-headed that they won't accept salvation, and so the blame is on their own heads. Why, sir, looking at it in any other light, I'd have to say the blame is with God, not man."

"Hush, beware, Tyrrell! You are saying words now, which no living man may utter and be blameless," said Mr. Prior with much seriousness.

"Joe Whilly's got hold of quite another side of the question altogether," remarked Blayney. "As you'll hear, sir. He don't agree with Tyrrell. He's all t'other way."

"No, he don't agree with me," said Nat, recovering from the momentary effect of the rebuke he had received. "He'd never dare offer the free gift of salvation to any man, but only go tell him he hopes he's one of the elect, for if he's elect, he'll be saved, and if he isn't, why he's mighty sorry for him."

"I didn't put it that way neither," said Joe Whilly. "But I don't deny there's some truth in Tyrrell's words, sir. I'd tell men, sure enough, of the Saviour,—but I couldn't in conscience tell 'em to come and be saved, without reminding them that they hadn't no power to come, unless they were called."

"Ay, those are his views," said Tyrrell loftily. "I'm right glad they're not mine."

"I'd be sorry to have to settle atween you both," remarked Blayney. "One thing's certain—one of you's right, and one's wrong. Leastways, both can't be right, though maybe you be both wrong. And that's all I knows about the matter."

"I have a word from the Bible for each of you—for Tyrrell on his side and Whilly on his," said Mr. Prior. "But first, we must find a stand-point from which to look upon this matter. It won't do, if you wish to take a wide view of the country round, to get among some bushes, where your range of sight is shut in to about six yards."

Ned Blayney laughed. "No, sir; the mast-head's the place."

"True; we must climb to the mast-head. And the first step towards that, is to take good heed that we come to this question in a frank and simple spirit of inquiry, anxious to find the truth, and ready to believe whatever the Word of God may state, but not caring to defend our own views merely for the sake of triumph in argument."

"I hope I'm not over proud to acknowledge myself mistaken, sir," said Nat Tyrrell.

"I hope so too. But now for the mast-head. There are two simple truths about which you must be perfectly clear, before you can safely venture to look into any of these questions. You seem to me, Tyrrell, to have lost sight of one, if not of both."

"I'm ready to hear, sir," said Tyrrell, more submissively than was his wont.

"Then remember this. Whatever you find of doubt and perplexity—whatever seems to you hard to understand, or impossible to explain,—take care that you never for a moment lose sight of one grand truth,—'The Lord is righteous in ALL His ways, and holy in ALL His works.' 'There is no unrighteousness in Him.' He is 'of purer eyes than to behold evil.' 'There is none holy as the Lord.' 'A God of truth and without iniquity, just and right is He.' His very 'Name is Holy.' Take hold of that truth, and never let it go."

"Yes, sir," Tyrrell assented.

"Secondly, remember that as God is absolutely holy, so man is absolutely sinful. Man, as man, can put forth no shadow of a claim upon the mercy of God. The whole of mankind lies deep down in the very dust beneath His feet, justly condemned to eternal death. Salvation, from first to last, is a free and utterly undeserved gift."

"I see what you mean, sir," said Tyrrell slowly.

"Then, putting those two great truths together, let me warn you to take your stand upon them, and never again to use the dangerous line of argument you seemed inclined to use just now. Never dare to say, 'If such and such a thing were true, I could not believe in the holiness or mercy of God.' There is fearful presumption in it, Tyrrell—though many a good man unthinkingly makes use of such words. Such and such a thing may be true, though you cannot see it so; and where do you find yourself then? You must have your position at the mast-head. 'The Lord is holy and true, just and righteous, merciful and loving. Man is sinful and worthless. What the Lord hath said, that will I accept, and unquestioningly believe.'"

Nat looked thoughtful, but did not speak.

"And now to come to the point," Mr. Prior went on. "As regards the doctrine of election, I do not ask you to take my views, or the views of any man. But what do you think of this?" And from his little pocket Bible Mr. Prior read aloud—"'He hath chosen us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before him in love: having predestinated us unto the adoption of children by Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the good pleasure of His will.' And again, 'Being predestinated according to the purpose of Him who worketh all things after the counsel of His own will.' ¹ Nothing can stand against that, you see—that almighty changeless Will of God."

¹ Eph. i. 4, 11.

"Clear enough about election, ain't it," said Joe Whilly.

"What of this also? In the ninth of Exodus God says about Pharaoh, 'In very deed for this cause have I raised thee up, for to show in thee my power.' And in the following chapters, we are more than once plainly told that 'The Lord hardened Pharaoh's heart,' though at the same time we must not forget that we are told how Pharaoh hardened his own heart also. And again, with the wicked sons of Eli, we find that 'they hearkened not unto the voice of their father,'—why?—'"because" the Lord would slay them.'"

"That's awfully strong," said Nat, in a subdued tone.

"It is truth, Tyrrell. You cannot set it aside. True also—by their sins they had made Him so to will. But as clay in the hands of a potter, ² so are we in the hands of God. He chooses whom He will, and He rejects whom He will. 'Therefore hath He mercy on whom He will have mercy, and whom He will He hardeneth.' No power in heaven, or earth, or hell, can for one instant stand against that eternal Will of God. And no man living has power to turn to God, or even to wish so to turn, without the working of the Holy Spirit in his heart. As the Saviour said, 'No man can come to Me, except the Father which hath sent Me draw him.'"

² Rom. ix. 21.

"Well, sir, it just comes to this," said Tyrrell gloomily. "If you're right—and I won't deny you've Scripture on your side—I don't see, for my part, how man is to blame."

"Just the answer made in St. Paul's own days. 'Thou wilt say then unto me, Why doth He yet find fault? for who hath resisted His will? Nay, but, O man! who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus?' ¹ What are you and I, Tyrrell—mere worms of the dust, rebels against Him from our birth—to dare to question the dealings of the Lord Almighty?"

¹ Rom. ix.

He spoke in a deeply solemn tone, and the men looked impressed, while Mona sat, with bent head, taking to heart a lesson which she had sorely needed. There was a little pause before Tyrrell remarked—

"Still, there's no denying, sir, that if men are mere puppets in the Hands of God, to be saved or lost as He wills, I don't see for my part how they're to be justly blamed."

"Does the Bible say men are mere puppets in the Hands of God?" asked Mr. Prior.

"Well, sir, it comes to about the same thing."

"No; there we touch upon one of the wonderful mysteries of God, which are beyond man's grasp. 'There is no searching of His understanding.' 'Great things doeth He which we cannot comprehend.' The sooner you accept that fact in all its fulness, the better for your peace. True it is that man is absolutely in the Hands of God, as clay in the hands of a potter; nevertheless, and at the self same time, he is a free and accountable being. What do you say to that?"

"You wouldn't try to make out, would you, sir, that there was anything of free choice to be found in the Bible, alongside of the other doctrine?" asked Nat incredulously.

"You could not possibly have used a better word. 'Alongside'—that is exactly the way in which these great 'opposition-truths,' as they have been called, are given to us. Lying side by side, placed there by God Himself, to be believed by us unquestioningly, whether or no with our present powers we may be able to reconcile them. It has been said with much force, that in looking at these deep mysteries of God, a man must not attempt to step with both his feet at once. First one foot, and then the other. We have taken a step with the right foot; now let us take a step with the left. We have proved from the Word of God the doctrine of election; now let us see what the same Word has to say on the other side of the question."

"I'll hear what you have to say sure enough, sir," said Nat slowly. "I'll not deny you've shown me I've been wrong, putting aside a doctrine so clear in the Bible as that. I'm not too proud neither to 'say' I've been in the wrong, and to change my old view for a new one. But if you're going to ask me to stick by the old, and take up the new as well—why, sir, I've only to say it's just a moral impossibility. The thing can't be."

"No; and I'm on the same side as Tyrrell now, sir," added Joe Whilly. "If a man can't be saved unless he's elected, and can't come unless God makes him able, where's the good of telling him he 'may' come?"

"We will come back to that directly," said Mr. Prior. "But just now we are taking a glance at the other side of the question. You can't look to the north and the south of a landscape at the same moment, you know. What do you both think of these words, spoken by God to the whole nation of the Israelites, and through them to the world at large?

"'See, I have set before thee this day life and good, and death and evil; in that I command thee this day to love the Lord thy God, to walk in His ways, and to keep His commandments . . . But if thine heart turn away so that thou wilt not hear'—not canst not, but 'wilt' not—'I denounce unto you this day, that ye shall surely perish . . . I call heaven and earth to record this day against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing; THEREFORE CHOOSE LIFE, that both thou and thy seed may live—'

"Is no freedom of choice offered there, Whilly?"

"Seems so, sure enough," said Whilly, rubbing his head with a perplexed air.

Tyrrell did not speak.

"This is in the thirtieth of Deuteronomy, and you will find much the same in the twenty-fourth of Joshua, where again the Israelites are plainly bidden—'"Choose" you this day whom ye will serve.' Note also the words of our Saviour—'Ye "will not" come to Me that ye might have life.' Not 'ye cannot come.' And again, 'Strive to enter in at the strait gate;' 'Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness;' 'Seek, and ye shall find.' Power of choice and action are implied in all these."

"Yes, sir," answered Whilly, who seemed to have stepped into the office of spokesman.

"Then listen to a few words from the eighteenth of Ezekiel on the same subject. 'Have I any pleasure at all that the wicked should die, saith the Lord God, and not that he should return from his ways and live? . . . Repent, and turn yourself from all your transgressions . . . and make you a new heart and a new spirit; for why will ye die, O house of Israel? For I have no pleasure in the death of him that dieth, saith the Lord God; wherefore turn yourselves, and live ye.' And also in the thirty-third chapter—'Say unto them, As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked; but that the wicked turn from his way and live; turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways, for why will ye die, O house of Israel?'"

Tyrrell was silent still, gazing steadily on the ground.

"Well, sir, I won't deny there's a deal to be said on both sides from the Bible," said Whilly, in a thoughtful tone. "But how you're going to reconcile them two doctrines passes my comprehension."

"And mine also," said Mr. Prior quietly. "What of that, Whilly? Are we to disbelieve everything we cannot understand? Can you suppose for a moment that the mind of a mere created being shall have power to grasp the mysteries of his Creator? Tyrrell thinks himself well able to take in and weigh these mighty truths, though, as he says, he is no genius. If he were the most brilliant genius the world ever saw, it would make no difference. Possibly he might reach a little farther than you or I could reach—just as a tall man may wade a little deeper into the sea than a short one can do. But in either case, the end is the same. Whether he be tall or short, whether his mind be great or small, he soon comes to a point where his powers serve to carry him on no more. After that, he must take refuge in one of two things—speculation or faith."

"Seems to me, Tyrrell and Whilly had ought to be mighty pleased, both of 'em, seeing they're both proved to be half-ways right, and not all wrong," Blayney remarked quaintly.

"Maybe I am," said Whilly. "Then, sir, you'd have one offer salvation to all men without a bit of reservation, would you?"

"No more reservation than the Bible itself makes, Whilly. Look at the breadth of the Gospel invitations, and don't dare to narrow them by a single word. 'Ho! every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters,' must never be cut down into, 'Ho! all ye "elect" that thirst.' 'Come unto Me, all ye that labour,' must not be changed into 'Come unto Me, all ye "elect" that labour.' There is a very clear command given—'Go ye into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature.' You may find me, if you can, a single injunction to preach the Gospel only to the elect of God."

"Thank you, sir. You've given me something to think about, anyways," said Whilly.

"The truth is, Whilly, this doctrine of election, though a thought full of comfort and joy to the assured Christian, is a doctrine with which the unsaved man has nothing whatever to do. 'Repent, believe, and be saved,' are the words spoken to him. Take care that you carry him the right message—not the wrong one."

And then, turning from Whilly, Mr. Prior said,—"Well, Tyrrell?"

"Sir, you'll maybe think me a bit obstinate, but I can't in reason see how them two things can exist together," said Tyrrell rather doggedly.

"Let me give you an illustration I have heard used, to make it clearer. Did you ever see the flying bridge over the river, two or three miles from Bentley Dingle?"

"I've seen it, sir."

Mr. Prior took out his pocket-book, and slightly sketched the scone for the benefit of those who had not.

"There is the river. There are the chains upon which the bridge depends. Now, look at those chains. You see them plainly at that end, and at this. What becomes of them in the space between?"

"They're under water," Nat answered, at the same moment with Blayney.

"How do you know? You cannot see them there."

"Well, sir, I knows sure enough, if I sees each end of a chain going down under water, that it's joined below," said Blayney.

"That is to say, you 'believe' it to be so, and your belief amounts to certainty. Just so with these great 'counter-truths' of the Bible. You see each end of the chain, but the point where they join—the point of reconciliation—is in the depths, beyond your grasp. Faith must come in there to supply the place of sight. You say they can't be reconciled. That merely means that 'you' cannot reconcile them. They are reconciled, though God alone knows how, and that is enough for us. There ought to be no 'if' in speaking of God's revealed truths. 'The Lord hath spoken,' is answer enough for every perplexity, and every seeming contradiction."

"Maybe," Tyrrell muttered.

"The truth is, we are mere children before God, and know nothing whatever of these matters beyond what He has graciously made known to us. He speaks to us as to children, and tells us just so much as it is needful for us to know—but no more. If you receive His Word as a child, you will know peace. The road to heaven is a very simple one, and 'the wayfaring man, though a fool, shall not err therein.' But once go off from the plain path of safety, and get yourselves entangled in these mazy questions, which have puzzled tens of thousands before you, and you will find yourselves in a very quicksand of doubt and misery."

"Maybe so, sir," said Tyrrell. "I don't deny you've a deal to say from the Bible for your way of looking on the question. But, nevertheless, 'tisn't in my power to set aside altogether the common-sense view of the matter. And that is, that 'if' men have it in their power to choose between good and evil, then salvation can't depend on election; and 'if' the doctrine of election is true, then free choice can't be, and men may just as well sit with their hands before them, waiting to see whether they're elect or no. For in that case, if a man's elect, he'll be saved, and if he isn't elect, he won't be saved, and small blame to him either if he isn't. I don't see, for my part, how you're ever to get over that difficulty, sir."

"Nay, Tyrrell, it is you, not I, who have to get over it," said Mr. Prior, smiling. "I am content to accept the truths of God as He has given them to us. You cannot rest without trying to bring them all down to the level of your own understanding—which is about as reasonable an attempt, as if you were to set yourself to squeeze the ocean into a tumbler. But I will have a word again with you on this subject, only just now I must say good-bye, as it is getting late. Think over the matter carefully, and pray for right direction as you do so."

He lingered a minute still, exchanging pleasant remarks with the different members of the party. Then bidding them all farewell, he continued his walk—not without a nod and smile at parting to little Nannie, for Mr. Prior was one of those who have caught a reflection of the Saviour's peculiar tenderness towards the lambs of the flock. And Mona, having presented to Madge her basket of nosegays, for the children on the morrow, went soberly down the hill-side.