SUNDAY COLUMN

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 70, Issue 259, 19 August 1950, Page 3

SUNDAY COLUMN

What Knowledge Have We of a Future Life? An Answer by Dr. F. E. England. (CONDUCTED BY TIIE ASHBURTON MINISTERS’ ASSOCIATION I hope you will not think that I am shirking the real issue in your question by asking you to think first of what we mean by knowledge. There is more than one kind of knowledge, or rather there are degrees of certainty. First, we have a kind of knowledge which is recognised by all normal people as certain. For example, there can be no doubt that under all circumstances two and two equal fo.ur, and the three internal angles of a triangle will always be equal to two right angles. That kind of knowledge presents a solid frontier against doubt. Then there is a form of knowledge which is not quite so certain as mathematical knowledge, though we are all prepared to accept it as such. I refer to our knowledge of ourselves. It is impossible to deny my own existence, because in the very attempt to do so I use the very existence which I seek to deny. A little less certain still is the knowledge gained through our own sense-experience. I invariably trust the testimony of my own eyes, ears, the sense of touch, taste, etc., though I am obliged to admit that my senses mislead me. I think I see a bunch of flowers, but they turn out to be waxqn. I think I see a lovely face, and it proves to be a thing of paint and powder. The fact is that behind all my senseknowledge there is a process of interpreting that knowledge; and the interpretation is done in the light of my existing stock of knowledge. If that existing stock contains a great many faulty elements, my interpretation Will be correspondingly defective. Only the highly trained and perfectly disciplined mind can discriminate between the true, the doubtful and the false in one’s experience. And that is why, for Christian people, it is enough that Christ was sure that in His Father’s house are many mansions. What, however, can we say about our own knowledge of a future life? Clearly it is not of the same certainty as mathematical knowledge, neither have we any indisputable evidence in ourselves of our immortality. Such knowledge as we have will proceed from our interpretation of a vast number of facts of our present experience. Ancl he who has the widest and most comprehensive experience will judge best of the validity of the belief. Before I go further I would remind you that, while it may be impossible to reach absolute certainty about immortality, it may nevertheless be possible to reach complete certitude. Certitude is a state of mind which may be pro-, duced by other than logical stringency, j It may be the fruit of long and careful weighing of facts. The judge on the bench makes his decisions in the light of such certitude when complete and indisputable certainty is not attainable; as, for example, where no one actually witnessed the crime, but all the ascertainable facts converge upon one man.

What, are the facts upon which we form our judgment about immortality? I have space here only to summarise them. Our first intimation of immortality springs from our reflection on the mystery of our own existence. As someone has said, our arrival is a greater miracle than our survival. It is difficult to believe that the age-long cosmic processes which brought man into existence had in them no purpose other than a fleeting experience of three score years and ten, and then annihilation.

Ne’er a peevish boy Would break the bowl from which he drank in joy. Shall He that made the vessel in pure love And fancy in an after rage destroy? Next comes the reflection that the amazing range of undeveloped potentialities in the human individual make it difficult not to believe in a further life where the “broken arc” shall be completed in the “perfect round.” That is what Plato meant by saying that man's soul is immortal insofar as it participates in the eternal ideas; and it is what Jesus meant when He told people that the life eternal was a life of fellowship with God. Just because man’s deepest needs are anchored in infinity he feels himself to be a citizen of an eternal city. These and similar considerations definitely point to a mode of life which is the complement of our present finite existence. Here and now we are living a kind of dual life, physical and spiritual. Our physical life is adjusted to physical and transient conditions; our spiritual life is related to invisible and permanent realities. All that we do by means of our physical activities is contributing to the development of our spiritual quality. We give a cup of cold water with our hands; we thereby add a touch of nobility to our souls. What happens when the soul is loosed from the, body? Which is more reasonable, which is easier to believe —that the accumulated qualities of the soul lapse into the great oblivion, or that these qualities, which have been won by effort, sacrifice and toil, are somehow conserved? . Scientific men base their knowledge of physical universe on the presupposition that force cannot be annihilated. It passes from one form to another, from potential to kinetic, from kinetic to potential, but it is never destroyed. Is it likely that man’s spiritual energies will go down to destruction? Is it not more reasonable to believe .that they are‘conserved in the spiritual world? I offer to you this ilustration. Here is a piece of stone or .marble, mute, still, massive, lifeless. It has certain qualities which make it appear so, and these qualities are such that whenever we gaze upon a mountain side, high up above vegetation, like the last thousand feet of Ben Nevis, the general impression is that of stillness and death. But now r instead of looking at the stone for what it is in itself, look at the stone or marble or whatever itj may be which has been fashioned into a statue of an equestrian, a winged victory, an Apollo. What do we find? There is no change in the natural qualities of the stone, and yet in the new setting, in the service of a purpose or higher order, the stone which formerly spoke the language of stillness and death now speaks the language of movement and life. Every illustration has an essential kernel, and the point of this is that the piece of marble taken out of its original setting and placed in a more significant setting retains its individual-

ity while becoming part of a vastly more significant order. I said we have every reason to believe that the spiritual life is enduring. It is my belief that physical death is the passing of the individual to his place in that fuller, nobler life for which his earthly training has fitted him.