Christian Living in the Modern World
by James B Chapman
Chapter 14 - Neither Heredity Nor Environment
Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind? (John 9:2)
We are all heirs of the common heritage of humanity through our parents running all the
way back to Adam. From our immediate parents we receive certain capacities, trends and
tendencies which identify us with a narrower clan within the human family. In our general and
special heritage there are many things which taken together make for each of us a wonderful
fortune. There may be also a few things which answer as handicaps and limitations. But whatever
the fortune, we received at our birth the capital which has enabled us to operate the business of life
up until the present time. We could but receive it passively, and whether it was much or little, we
ourselves are not to be either complimented or condemned.
The custom of accounting men as products of factors over which they have no control is not
a new one. It is the easiest alibi for our own failures, and the best method of accounting for the
successes of others which cannot reflect any credit upon those whom we may be inclined to envy.
Dale Carnegie observes that two generations ago some of the very leaders of thought, men
like Emerson and Horace Greeley, were adepts of "phrenology," and believed that a man's
capacities could be read in the bumps which appear on his head. Many stores retained
phrenologists in connection with their selection of persons for their staff, and a good many are
known to have lost their positions because the bumps on their heads marked them out as wanting in
ability or as possessing qualities that were undesirable.
That is indeed a poor philosophy which contains no message for the less fortunate. It is not
only a poor philosophy, but with thankfulness we affirm it is a false philosophy. It is all well and
good for those who have it to boast of their "blue blood," but must the others be told there is no
hope? Must a man succumb to the handicaps of his heredity? Is man but plastic clay in the hands of
unknowing fate? Must all take the place for which the heritage of the past fitted them?
The early years of our lives, likewise, were entirely in the hands of others. We could no
more choose the guardians and companions of our infancy than we could choose our parentage. We
are happy if we find in ourselves evidence of wisdom and goodness in those who taught us by
precept and example our first lessons on how to live in the curious world into which we found
ourselves introduced. But whether those evidences reflect credit or blame on the guardians and
companions of our earliest earthly days, we cannot either undo what was done or go back and live
those days again.
It were folly, of course, to say that heredity and environment are not factors in our making.
But it is a hurtful heresy to hold that they are determining factors. In our responsible years we must
not surrender to the fatalistic notion that our parents and our surroundings made us, and that we are
neither to be praised nor blamed for being what we are or for what we are in the process of
becoming.
No matter how baffling the phrases of theologians, philosophers, psychologists and others,
we all know within ourselves that we are responsible. We know we are not clods and stones upon
which the elements work at will. We are not even primarily dependent flesh and blood. We are
essentially mind and spirit. The sun of our surroundings tans or bleaches according to the use we
make of its rays. Circumstances are but fibers out of which we weave our own cloth. We know
these things are true, no matter what the speculators say, and no matter how much we might at times
prefer the alibi which determinism furnishes the individual.
"Who did sin, this man or his parents, that he should be born blind?" asked the fatalistic
disciples. But the free Master replied, "Neither this man nor his parents, but that the glory of God
might be revealed." This does not mean that the man's blindness was in no sense the responsibility
of his parents. But it does mean that neither the blind man nor those who lived with him were to
take the situation as complete and hopeless. The man's very limitation became the occasion for a
notable miracle, so that many a by-stander may have wished himself the victim of misfortune only
that he might on that account be partaker of the Master's mercy.
Hezekiah was the good son of a bad father. Joseph kept his purity in vile Egypt. Even the
Nazarene acquired His cognomen from a city without reputation for either wisdom or fame. On the
other hand, Manasseh was the son of a good father. Solomon, the builder of the temple of God,
turned to idols right in Jerusalem. Judas, the treasurer of the college of apostles, became a traitor
while enjoying the Master's choice favor. Men may be bent toward a certain course by their
heredity, and they may be encouraged in the selection of a certain way by their environment, but at
the point of choosing they are free, and in spite of all that unsought forces can do for or against
him, man is yet "the architect of his own destiny," and should be praised for his virtues and blamed
for his vices.
Excuses and alibis are easier than self-correction and evangelism. And so even to this day
wherever men meet to talk it is popular to berate the dictators and bewail the evils which we have
no power to correct All these things are done as substitutes for personal repentance and
responsible use of the means at hand for improving the general conditions of our day. Many who
berate the dictators abroad yet vote for liquor at home. They become exercised regarding "the
terrible days in which we live" and then go out to desecrate the Sabbath and disregard the laws of
God and man themselves. They talk of "the good old days" of the Pilgrim fathers, and then do not
attend church themselves. They glorify their fathers' and mothers' religion, and themselves neglect
family and secret devotion. It seems to be a human trait to get agitated over things we cannot help,
and to be little affected over things that appeal to us for choice and action. But the order is in
reverse: it is no use to get stirred up over things we cannot help, and when we get stirred up over
things we can help, we should do something about them. There are many things in our present
environment which we are as powerless to help as we are to help in the matter of the environment
of our infancy. But we must not generalize too soon: there are many things we can help, and
perhaps by the time we get these done other evils will have been corrected by others or we shall
be strong enough to help with these also. Therefore what we cannot do is no excuse for being
remiss in the things we can help.
Coming first to ourselves: let us be encouraged by the fact that nothing that is outside of us
can get inside to do us harm without our consent. It is the will that counts. The power to perform
may be denied us, but whoever wills to be good is good. But let us not avoid the converse: nothing
outside of ourselves can get in to do us good without our consent. It is our response that counts. We
may be brought up in the very "lap of the gospel" and yet be renegade. It is not what has been
offered us, but that which we have received that makes the difference.
Never once did Jesus accept or reject anyone on the basis of his pedigree or his
surroundings. To Christ every man was an opportunity. What good could come of blaming a man's
parents for his plight, even though they were somewhat at fault? What good could come merely of
charging a man's state to his own guilt and leaving it there? Here was a blind man who needed help
and who seemed ready and willing to accept it. Christ disregarded the pride of Paul and the
unsavory occupation of Levi, and offered them both a place in the apostleship. But neither the
proud pedigree of the one qualified him, nor the unsavory occupation of the other constituted an
insurmountable barrier.
Pride and self-pity are contiguous, even though they are listed as dwelling at the antipodes,
for they both lay the foundation for defeat. The man who accepts his present as the ultimate goal
collapses quite as completely as the one who follows failure as though it were a prize.
Coming now to our service for others: let us be consoled with the fact that God brought us
to the kingdom for such a time as this. There can come no good of pining over our genealogical
misplacement. Of course one soldier with a machine gun and plenty of ammunition could have
driven Alexander's army from the field. But there was no such a soldier then, and when he did
appear, behold defense was apace of offense, and the modern soldier can show no better odds than
the brave men of the past. There is no question that our day is evil. But as to whether it is worse
than some days of the past or than other days that are yet before us, of this we cannot be sure. But
even if we could tell, what good would such speculations do? Suppose the blind man's parents
were to blame for their son's want of sight, what good would it do to settle the blame? The blind
man did not care to know why he was blind. What he wanted was power to see. Perhaps I could
have done good in the days when my father was my age; but granted that I could, what help is that
to anyone? This is my day. I did not choose it. God gave it me. If it is an extra difficult day, then it
is a compliment that God should give me a heavy task. Men are different now from what they used
to be? Granted. I am different also from what those men were who tried to be good and do good in
the days that are past. If there were not some useful place for me God would not have brought me
and my day together. Now that He has done it, why should I speculate about the unchangeable?
God is in heaven. Christ still pleads at the Father's right hand. The Holy Spirit is still in the world.
No one in any age ever had greater resources than are offered me. So mine is to follow the
example of the Master. He refused to accept either heredity or environment as explanations and
excuses, but turned His hand to the healing of a man born blind. That blind man represents my task.
Why should such a task be given me? No answer to that question can be of any service. The task is
here and I am here, in any case.
But since we have drawn on the story from the Master's life for a basis for human
responsibility, let us also draw from it assurance that the divine enabling shall not be withheld.
The Master used the weak clay which He found ready at His feet. I, too, shall have to use weak
instruments. But the infinite God touched that blind man's eyes on the occasion of the anointing
With clay, and it was that divine touch that brought sight to the blind. And may there come in the
moments of my efforts that touch of divinity that shall make my efforts useful in the difficult task to
which divine Providence has appointed me! Following the lead of Phillips Brooks, I ask not for
power to work miracles. Rather I ask that I may myself be a miracle. After that my works will be
only such as might reasonably be expected of one so transformed as I shall be. This is the
substance of my prayer, and from the example of the Master, I am encouraged to believe it shall be
answered.
