But you cannot do both. You either respect a man’s ability to make up his own mind, or you don’t. You cannot sometimes do one, and sometimes the other; or the man would go hysterical, like one of Pavlov’s dogs.
But was his promise that his spirit and the Father’s spirit would dwell in a man true, or only beautiful make-belief? Was he trying to escape from the trap of the Messiah having to put everything right, by saying that those who believed in him would achieve greater things than he had ever done? When you look at the history of the Church, it looks like make-belief. The power to heal vanishing after a generation; endless doctrinal disputes whether Jesus was equal to the Father, or subordinate, and when one side won persecution of the other; Crusades that extended the commercial empire of the Venetians, more than bringing God nearer to the common people; ritual and symbolism confused with miracle in the communion service itself; the sale of indulgences, and the bartering of Heaven for money. Where was Jesus in all this? One could be forgiven for thinking his promise make-belief.
John Ruesbroke, the medieval mystic, said that the perfect life was not the contemplative life, but was when a man had perfected his contemplation and then gone out to lead an ordinary life in the community. Surely he was right? If he was right, it means he rejected the idea that leading an ordinary life in the community is serving mammon. And if God’s spirit dwells in a man, it means simply that the man must have the confidence to believe that his judgement is reliable, in matters with which he has sufficient experience. This is so, whether it is sailing the seas like Joshua Slocum, or being an advocate like Tom Erskine. And if the great Marquis of Montrose appreciated that to raise Scotland for the King, it was unrealistic to expect an army of saints; he must recruit seasoned warriors from the German wars, like Captain Dugald Dalgetty in Scott’s novel, then no-one in his senses will contradict him. And if Field Marshall von Manstein wrote of the Russian battles, that inner knowledge is the most sure knowledge, even when deciding whether to place a panzer army here or there, no-one with any sense will contradict him. And if in Court you are faced with a dishonest witness, you use all your cunning to persuade him to tell stupid obvious lies of his own free will, and so undermine his credibility. So even if the spirit of the Almighty dwells in you, you must make up your own mind what to do on the basis of your trained instinct and experience, made more generous maybe by the still small voice of conscience. You have no-one to turn to. No harm in praying for guidance when you have the time; but the odds are you will have to answer your own prayers, as Jesus did. Anyone who has exercised authority knows the same; you must rely on your own inner judgement, even if it sometimes leads you astray. Did Jesus, the greatest religious genius who has ever lived, not understand this?
In my opinion he realized it only too well. One would be mad to set out to save the world, and be the longed for Messiah, unless one believed that God dwelt in one’s soul, as well as outside it. Even if this belief were mistaken, one would still have to believe it. Often one has to act on the assumption that one’s beliefs are true; and they cannot always be. One must sometime make a mistake. So with the indwelling spirit of God, one cannot prove to oneself that it dwells in oneself; you can only prove to others that it dwells in you.
If the relationship of the Creator to one of his creatures is so delicate, if to use the language of the psalmist God is nearer to the soul than one is oneself, have the clergy a teaching role in this regard. No, of course they haven’t. A clergyman with even an ounce of intelligence would only presume to speak of his own experience, and of the general experience of mankind. In using this gruesome metaphor, I am sure Jesus was wanting men to have the confidence to say, “Christ is bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, spirit of my spirit”; such a close intimacy, that it would be sheer impertinence for anybody else to lecture him about it. His opinion of the Pharisees was far from complimentary; and I feel sure he wanted to avoid so far as he could an elaborate system of theology being built up from what he had said, in his own Church.