The Universalist. [volume], October 16, 1886, Page 2, Image 2

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Lhe Universalist Sermou Yage.
REV. JACOB STRAUB.
Marseilles, 111.
FAITH AND PRAYER IN HEALING DISEASE.
AN ESSAY-SERMON, by Rev. Jacob Straub, pastor of the Universalist Churoh at Mar
seilles, 111., prepared expressly for publication in The Universalist.
* Ani the prayer of faith shall heal the sick.”
(Jas. v, 15.)
It is often remarked that history re
peats itself; and the ancient Solomon
said, “There is nothing new under the i
sun.” However, he was not living in a i
day of invention as we are. But in |
general these sayings may b8 regarded j
as truisms.
The student of sociology, looking over
the details of past history, finds prece
dent for many of the phases of human
deportment of to-day which seem new.
He finds that each age and community
of the past had its philosopher and ig
norant man, the same as now are seen.
He finds there the believing and the un
believing ; the irreligious and the su
perstitious ; the virtuous and the vi
cious. History cannot be written so
poorly or with such partisan bias as not
to intelligibly reveal these characters.
We are not, then, exclusively in the
modern day. The characteiistics of the
human mind of all the past, in respect
to philosophy, government and religion,
are, in essentials, with the people of
to-day, and will be with them in all the
long to-morrow.
Besides, the new achievements which
distinguish the present are not from
the whole mass of mind having be
come so much elevated. A very con
siderable part would not measure above
where many of several thousand years
ago would have measured. From these
would we expect to see, so far aa con
ditions permitted, about the same
mental phenomena.
The element of religion having been
for the most part wrapped in much
mystery, must have been, from the
oldest times, an inviting field for the
the work of fanciful and speculative
minds. Religion was the bend uniting
the soul with the gods, or with God,
who with the most enlightened were
invisible beings—beyond all sensuous
observations. Their relation with the
souls and the bodies of men, and with
all external nature, was by no laws
with which man could be acquainted.
The laws of visible nature were at all
times subject to these supernatural
laws and revokable at the election of
these gods. Everything in the direction
of the gods was permanently mirac
ulous.
This was more especially true of the
devotees of the pagan religions, but it
was also true of a large part of the fol
lowing of the Hebrew worship. “Who
by searching can find out God,” which
is a truism of to-day, was an expres
sion in the Hebrew mind of a mystery
much greater than is entertained of
God by the enlightened Christian mind
of the present. And mystery practi
cally removing all limits to the admis
sion of interpretations, there could be
no check placed upon the most extrav
agant assumptions. And no reason and
no science could be applied where the
law could not be cited.
Hence the religious world was large
ly at the mercy of religious charlatans
and demagogues. From this it so soon
became possible to shroud so largely
the simple, reasoning teachings of
Jesus under an impenetrable film of
creeds, thus inflicting an irreparable
loss on mankind, and entailing a list of
mythical appliances to the Christian
system, which are still delaying the
good day when, by being seen to rest
upon well known law, the doctrines of
Christ will be incontrovertible.
We are entering upon a day of better
light—a fact generally conceded to be
true of religion as well as of other mat
ters. And while the more intelligent
of our time see no prospect that the
finite mind shall ever see all mystery
pertaining to religion fully solved, by
reason of the permanently superior
position of the Infinite—the Deity—
with whom a part of the conditions of
religion rests, still what truths pertain
ing to it are essentially our part of it,
are fast being opened to the average
understanding; so much so that of
many other matters which determine
our actions, we know the principles
with quite as little certainty.
And so religion has its philosophy
and its science, and is measurably with
in the province of reason and demon
stration. People, therefore, may and
should go into their churches, as they
go into their schools, knowing that the
principles which they there employ are
essentially matters of fact and justify
ing. One will not enjoy his music less
by knowing it to be fixed in intelligi
ble laws, and by himself understanding
those laws. Neither will one enjoy his
religion less by knowing it is a matter
of law and that with its principles he
has an acquaintance. The tendency is
to make him more religious when he
comes to see that it is a fact and not a
play of life—when he sees that religion
is a factor of self and not an accretion,
and his best condition is inseparable
from its observance, and that its 1 tws
in violation are very severe upon the
offender.
- Now, among the essential elements of
the religion of Christ—the soul’s ideal
religion—are prayer and faith. With
out these the religion of Christ is not
present. And by their wisest employ
ment, as provided by the Master, life is
at its best. Prayer and faith have
their c mditions, which are deducible
from the New Testament without much
labor, by very ordinary measures of
mind. Religious prayer is asking of God
what the spiritual desires indicate,
which m iy include temporal needs.
Moved by the example of the Master,
as well as by the common impulse to
pray, and noting, probably, the differ
ences in the prayers by the established
church and those by the Master, the
disciples asked to be instructed in
prayer. The result was the brief for
mula called “The Lord’s Prayer.” The
first element of this prayer is the due
recognition of the Deity as the parent
of the human soul. Then come peti
tions for blessings, among which is that
which specifies that the will of the
Father should be supreme. Put the
hasty and perhaps Bel fish worshiper is
apt to overlook the fact that God must
know more as to what is good and
should be done than himself could
know; and to forget that Jesus said,
“Your Father knoweth what things
ye have need of before ye ask him.”
In that unequaled ordeal in Gethsem
mane, where the cup of bitterness over
ran all measure,—where, in failing to
drain it, none but himself and God
could have detected the flaw in his
conduct,—for a moment he allowed
weak nature to assert its course, by the
prayer, “If it be possible, let the cup
pass,” but at once brought it under by
the words, “Not as I will, but as thou
wilt.”
But, it is observed, “Did not Jesus
plainly say, ‘Ask and it shall be given
you ?’ ” Yes, as a mark of apprecia
tion and subordination, God requires
us to ask—to solicit for every good.
And did he not also say, “He that be
lieveth on me, the works that I do shall
he do also ; and greater works shall he
do?” In submitting these questions,
it is not taken into account that the in
structions of Christ are against uncon
ditional asking of the Father, and that
such asking involves arrogance, and
essentially unchristian conduct. To a
class, St. James remarks, “Ye ask and
receive not, because ye ask amiss,”
which should impress the Scripture
student, that not all asking is availing,
and that receiving is conditioned upon
the manner of asking as prescribed by
the Master.
Of faith there is often as large a
misunderstanding. Instead of being an
assurance, based on reasonable grounds,
it not infrequently is understood to be
what under other circumstances would
be called merely assumption. The con
sideration that faith is a creature of
the will, to be exercised at choice, is
proof of this very radical misunder
standing. Anv illustration of this view
of faith is in a homely anecdote of the
woodman being rallied on the subject
of faith. It was alleged that if he had
faith to that effect he might cast his
ax into the stream and it would swim.
He declined to believe it, but would
make the experiment. The ax was
thrown, and promptly descended to the
bottom. “Just as I expected,” re
sponded the man. Now an assumption
may be imagined in the mind of this
victim, but nothing of the character of
faith.
Faith is very philosophically defined
by St. Paul as' “the substance of
things hoped for, the evidence of things
not seen.” We observe here that an
essential condition of faith is “evi
dence,” not assumption, of things not
sensibly visible, possibly an inward
evidence based upon assurances not
externally verifiable, and perhaps illu
sory and not resting on real facts at
all.
It is not materially unlike that pre
science of the future which so largely
shapes the present, and which evokes
from life such wonderful energy ; only
in religion it is applied to another class
of facts—a class liable to excite, in some
temperaments, more strongly the sense
of assurance, from considerations of
intimacies and special dealing with
final causes, or with the Doity.
With minds thus conditioned, faith
might be made more efficient, with a
wider range of application—in extreme
cases to directly seize on the fiber of
the body, or, why not, upon the neigh
boring mind, its vital forces and sub
tendent physical fiber ?
Indeed, such is well recognized phys
iological law, and enters largely into
hygiene. Hence there is such a thing
as “faith cure.” Physicians recognize
it, and make account of it in practice.
While there is a materia medica, and
people are cured by it, at times even
against their unbelief and wish, the
faith of the patient is of wonderful
help in the curative process, and an
important auxiliary to the material
remedies.
Of the faith cures performed at
Lourdes, in France, and Knock, in Ire
land, there is thorough confirmation.
The faculty call the process, ‘ Expectant
attention,” a term signifying, substan
tially, what Paul indicates by the term
“faith.”
But Lourdes and Knock are liomish
affairs ; and Protestants who are, since
the Moody revivals, so largely believing
in prayer and faith cures, should make
a note of this fact. And so the Ro
manists; they, too, are being rivaled
very closely by the heretics. Dr. Cul
lis, of Boston, and Rev. Mr. Simpson,
of New York, have closely pressed on
Lourdes and Knock. And these Ro
manists and Protestants together need
to be alert, or the disagreeable Spirit
lalist, and perhaps the unsavory Mor
mon, will excel them both. In 1865,
while I was residing in Michigan, a Dr.
Bryant, a Spiritualist in Detroit, had
rooms full of discarded crutches, left as
testimonials by healed patients. Mor
mons gathered their following largely
by miracles of this character, wrought
for the most part in by-places and
among the more ignorant classes. But
still further, outside and separate from
all religions, these so-called miracles are
seen to transpire. The late Professor
Carpenter, the foremost physiologist of
his time, gives the account of the heal
ing of a paralytic by faith—expectant
attention. The invalid was advised to
call on Sir Humphrey Davy, with strong
assurances that he would realize a cure
at the hands of the great man. On
presenting himself, the distinguished
scientist, for examination, thrust the
thermometer under his tongue, to get
the patient’s temperature. The pa
tient supposing this the magic medi
cine, in ecstacies exclaimed that he felt
the influence all through him, and that
he was already much better. Dr. Davy,
casting at a companion a quizical glance,
dismissed the patient without further
treatment, with instruction to return
to be treated again in a short time. In
a little while the paralytic was well.
Faith cured him ! Faith not in a big
saint, but in a big doctor. He was
cured by divine law, however, by one
of God’s good and great ministers, and
with the approval of Christ, we may be
assured.
Much is said of taith cure at the
present time. Books are written upon
the subject, some with a good deal of
ability and many good suggestions.
Journals are published in the interests
thereof. Hospitals are built, and very
much and ingenious advertising is done.
It is like the “blue glass” epidemic of
a few years ago, and the innumerable
electrical pads, belts, soles, combs,
brushes, etc., offered to the invalid
world. A large number of people know
very little about electricity, and these
trinkets find a good market. Besides,
it may well be believed that large num
bers are benefited by their use as ex
citants to faith.
It is then unbecoming for thoughtful
people to speak discourage ugly of faith
cures, and should only insist that proper
credits shall be given, and that things
shall be designated by the right names.
And let not the exalted works of Jesus
and the holy Apostles, as well as those
of the religiously pure and good of any
age, be confounded with those of mer
cenary charlatans and quacks.
If now it be thought necessary to
ask, “Did not Jesus and the Apostles
perform cures by a gift of the Spirit, as
alleged?” The answer is, They certainly
did. There are the best reasons in the
world why those inspired and greatly
spiritualized lives should have per
formed those cures as set forth in the
record. If it were further asked, “Why,
then, may not those of to-day be per
formed by the same agency, as is claim
ed ?” it would be answered that some
may be,—that God is on the same lib
eral terms with mankind now that he
was in the Apostolic days, and that he
will answer prayer according to what
he sees is best, now as then.
It is to be observed, however, that
with the race as with an individual,
one age may require differently from
another. With the advent of reason in
greater force there is properly less ap
peal to miracle for the establishment of
a principle. Hence the discontinuance
of miracles, in the ratio of advancing
light, were to be expected of an intelli
gent government over man.
It can hardly be said to have been
from the spirit of kindness that Jesus
raised Lazarus to suffer and die over
again, and to thus break the hearts of
the sisters anew, after a temporary re
covery of the lost happiness of his soci
ety. But for the privilege of minister
ing to dependent ones, it would have
been better for the brother to have con
tinued his sleep or his new possession
of a happier life among friends no less
precious. Jesus referred to the act as
having been done to establish confi
dence in his authority, and not of kind
ness merely. It was done “to the
intent that ye may believe,” though
himself was in weeping sympathy with
the bereaved.
But it is unlikely that mortals at
their present level would make a wise
use of the prerogative over death, im
plied by the terms of the faith cure
appearing in the customary arguments
in its support—promise of auswer to
the prayer of faith. By Christian be
lief death is a necessary factor of the
gospel. But when would death to the
loved friend transpire, leaving it to the
choice of friends V When could segre
gating disease win its way to the re
lease of the spirit from a sphere which
at best is too low for it ? The presence
of the gift would be the responsibility
for the given life, and the death would
be chargeable to the neglect of employ
ing the gift. It were a responsibility,
therefore, that would hardly be chosen
by thoughtful people.
Such facts alone render the claim
altogether improbable—not to say im
possible. Ou higher altitudes, greatly
distant from our present, people may
take leave o£ this world at a time of
recognized titness, in joy, at their own
election, and with the concurrence and
joy of their friends, as one setting out
on the homeward way. Till then, a
wiser, stronger heart than man's must
determine the number of man's days.
Meantime, prayers are not wholly
unavailing ; and it is well that we oiler
them for our loved ones whom we so
highly cherish and would so much sor
row to lose from our society. God is
by no means indifferent to our wishes.
Many things he gives us because we
ask him—when the asking makes it
right that we should have them. But
he is too wisely loving to indulge his
child in what would not be best; and
the prayer, to be free from the arro
gance which destroys its virtue, must
never be wanting in the sentiment,
“Not as I will, but as thou wilt.”
THE PULPIT AND THE PEW.
Bv Rev. J. J. Austin.
(Waterloo, Iowa.)
The following is an address at the
Iowa Convention at Cedar Rapids :
I am expected to say something
about the Pulpit and the Pew—the re
ciprocal influence each has upon the
other—the attraction and repulsion be
tween them.
Such attraction and repulsion are
matters of frequent, if not common ob
servation. And they doubtless come
from three sources: 1. The differences
in the mental and moral constitutions of
men. 2. The different degrees of men
tal and moral culture among men. 3.
The different aspects of the (i spel in
its application to men.
I do not propose, in the time allotted
me, to present a complete analysis of
this great theme; but simply to call
your attention to a few of its salient
features, and then leave each one of
you to complete and apply the subject
for yourself.
Did you never think how many sides
religion presents to the people of this
nineteenth century ?—One is a lover of
forms, another of beautiful sentiments,
a third of spasmodic devotion, a fourth
of moral principles, a fifth of doctrinal
faith, while the religion of the sixth i3
based on fear. There may be many
minor developments, but these are the
principal ones. They are so many as
pects of a perfect religious character,
each one carried to extreme, perhaps,
and made to over-ride all the rest. And
being so variously blended and com
pounded among the people at large, as
well as among the preachers, it be
comes very difficult, if not quite im
possible, for any one preacher of the
Gospel to give perfect satisfaction to
all his hearers.
Take the lover of forms, for exam
ple. It is very difficult for him to un
derstand that religion is anything but
forms. If a man reads his prayers at
stated intervals, he thinks him a
Christian. Whoever neglects these Out
ward forms he puts down as entirely
devoid of the spirit of Christ. He is
apt to forget that Christ and the Apos
tles had no church liturgy nor rituals.
And such a man would be likely to be
censorious of the preacher who did not
take precisely his view of religion.
And is not such the position of some
of the churches of our time ? Does
not each claim to be the church, even at
the expense of unchurching all churches
beside V It certainly seems to be so.
These churches are devoted to the for
mal aspect of religion, rather than the
spiritual. They are not wholly wrong,
because forms are not altogether false.
They are quite indispensable in a world
like this, because they signify some
thing, and that something cannot well
be signified without them. But ex
treme formalism is very bad, because
it makes religion a one-sided thing—
giving the crust without the kernel—
the chaff without the wheat—and be
cause the fruit of religion is lost at the
expense of excessive foliage.
Take the lover of beautiful senti
ments as another illustration. Such a
man has little patience with your plain,
hard-handed, matter-of-fact Christian.
He thinks religion a fine-spun theory
sparkling with gems of poetic beauty,
and exactly adapted to the cultured
mind. He often forgets that the “com
mon people heard him gladly” in the
times of the Saviour. And of course
if every sermon does not come up to
his ideal of beauty—if it does not glit
ter, and sparkle, and blaze with bril
liauts—he says at once the preacher is
behind the times, he is not adapted to
his place, and his people; he is not
flowery enough, brilliantenough, flashy
aud trashy and sensational enough, and
the man flutters and sputters and with
draws—or compels the preacher to do
so—thus giving his influence to unset
tle the ministry because his own vain
standard of judgment is not adopted by
all.
And is not such the position of the
sensational and sentimental churches
of the day ? Do they not pride them
selves upon scholastic lore and human
itarian philosophy '( Do they not play
between Orthodoxy and Universalism,
now having the warmest fellowship for
one party and then for the other, and
by and by, ignoring every one else and
pretending to be the only liberal peo
ple in the world ? Do they not neglect
the great doctrines of the Lord Jesus—
the fatherhood of God, the brotherhood
of man, and the equal destiny of the
world—while they try to feed the soul
with the trash of rhetoric, and the wind
bags of beautiful expressions y Some
affirm that such is the fact. And every
one knows, or ought to know, that it
make3 religion a one-sided thing—not
the formal, but the sentimental side
very beautiful without, but hollow and
heartless within, and having about as
much substance for food as the sun-col
ored soap-bubbles of our childhood days.
Good sentiment is an excellent thing,
but it is not everything, It is a part
of the Gospel, but not the whole of it.
And it should have some regard, but
not the supreme place in our affection.
Truth and goodness are the Gospel’s
bone and muscle ; purity is the very
soul, and whatever of beauty you add
must play in harmony with, and be
subordinate to them.
And the lover of spasmodic devotion
makes religion a one-sided thing in an
other direction. When he prays, he
means to be heard, whether he prays
without ceasing or not. lie seems to
imagine that God is asleep, or deaf, or
gone on a far j >uruey, and he must
rend the very heavens asunder, lie
ligion without frenzy is no religion at
all for him. He doubts the piety of the
man who does not warm up into in
tense enthusiasm. He believes in re
ligious earthquakes and tornadoes, but
not so much in the “still small voice of
the spirit.” He seem to have the idea
that the thunder kills, and not the
lightning. And of course, if the preach
er does not rant and bellow and thun
der enough, he thinks he must be get
ting cold in the cause, and i3 not the
preacher for him.
And now let me ask, are you not re
minded of the “Nazrrite” movement,
the camp meeting, the Salvation army,
and of those periodical excitements
that are sometimes miscalled “revivals
of religion ?” Such people seem to be
skeptical of any man’s religion which
is not as noisy as their own. Devo
tional fervor is an excellent thing, and
I would to God we had a thousand fold
more of it, and the real Christian will
be devoted to the service of God and
man. But an excess of merely outward
devotion tends to make religious feel
ing spasmodic, and not uniform—now
up and then down—to-day at zero and
to-morrow at the boiling point. Some
thing like t.he ague and fever, and that
disease is not supposed to be very favor
able to the advancement of pure re
ligion among men, nor exactly adapted
to the production of a death-bed repent
ance.
Another man thinks that religion
consists oi moral principle only. lie
means to be a good man and to act
rightly, whether he is sound in the
faith or not. He never say3 much, but
keeps right on in the even tenor of his
way. He is known as a good moral
man, though not as a noisy professor of
religion. He has the notion of Pope,
the poet, better than a hundred bulls
of the Pope of Rome, that “an honest
man is the noblest work of God.” He
had rather be honest, true-hearted and
good, than a dishonest, long-faced, ly
ing, cross, mean professor ot godliness.
He ha3 no patience with your little
hearted, close-handed Christian, al
though willing to do any poor soul a
favor. If he has any creed at all, it is
the glorious Golden Rule. His model
man is the good Samaritan. If a mem
berof any church, he wants the preacher
to preach less about faith and profes
sions and more about good works. If
inclined to be censorious anywhere it
would be upon that point. And I
think we must confess there are very
few preachers who would justly escape
his rebuke.
And does he not represent another
class of the people ? Verily, it is so.
They are the class who make religion a
set of practical duties. Faith, profes
sions, forms and theories, are not re
garded by them as of much worth. They
have got around to the practical side of
Christianity, and they mean to stay
there. And they have, indeed, a very
amiable ard excellent position; and
if only one Christian trait could be had,
it would be, by far, the most lovely of
all. But, after all, man has a mind
as well as a heart, and he may have
the truth as well as the practical good
ness. “Faith without works, is dead,”
and so works without the faith that
prompts them, would be very few and
small. “As a man thinketh in his
heart, so is he.” Religion is a theory
and a practice, as the sun’s ray is both
light and warm. Make a man believe
a theory and he will act it out in the
life, and if he does not act it, you may
be sure, whatever his pretense may be,
he does not truly believe it. Here is
the great difference between barbarism
and civilization; a barbarous belief is
always barbarous in its results, while
genuine Christian civilization is full of
light, and love, and joy. L9t the world
be taught truth, and that world will re
spond with love.
Still another adheres with great per
tinacity to doctrinal faith. He views
the gospel as composed of the bone, the
muscle, and the nerve of doctrine.
Forms are nothing to him, sentiment
is nothing to him, devotional feeling is
nothing to him, practical goodness is
nothing to him ; there is nothing in all
the wide world to be compared with
essential djctrine. He is all faith in
the sense of dogmatic opinions, and so
has no room for anything else. Men
must think aright, which is just as he
thinks, whether they feel rightly and
act rightly or not. The heresy of faith
is more odious to him than the heresy
of a corrupt life. lie scents out infidel
ity quite as readily as a bloodhound
tracks a runaway slave. The creed
must be right, at all hazards. A false
thought is regarded by him as the very
unpardonable sin. You must be “evan
gelical,” according to his standard, or
you shall not see heaven. The errorist
of opinion is denounced as the worst
enemy of God and man. God’s great
mistake in creation was, that he did
not cramp all minds in the same stere
otype mold, and measure all men and
women on the tame iron bedstead of
abstract faith. Such seems to be the
position of the doctrinal dogmatist.
His preacher is the doctrinal preacher,
of course, for he has no patience with
any other. If every sermon is not
strongly doctrinal, in the sense of tear
ing some errorist’s faith in pieces, he is
ready to find fault and go for disunion.
The world must bow to him, or he
soon runs off the track. If you touch
any living moral question, he thinks
you touch him. He may drink a little,
and swear a little, and shave notes a
good deal, and extort double or triple
interest, and be unfaithful to marriage
vows, and social duties, but that is no
body’s business, and he will not be re
minded of it from the pulpit, nor read
about it in the word of God. You must
preach the gospel of dry bones, and let
all moral questions alone. He does not ;
thiuk, nor care, how many tastes there
are to be suited besides bis own. lie
shakes his purse in your face, and says,
“Do this, or do that, if you dare.” There
was a time when he whirled the fire
brand, the rack, the thumb screw, the
halter and the law; and many an hon
est man, because h8 was honest, paid to
him the forfeiture of liberty and life.
It is not so bad now; still, there is a
great deal of cross-firing at the pulpit,
and many a poor minister sinks his
manhood out of sight by vainly trying
to please all.
This doctrinal man that I have men
tioned, is the representative of a class
of men in all denominations. John
Calvin was a leading man of the party.
He acted out his prominent trait when
he gave his voice and influence to the
burning of Michael Servetus, just be
cause he denied the doctrine of the
trinity. So of Prof. Patton, when he
impaled Prof. Swing on the horns of
the Presbyterian bull, and drove him
out of that communion. So, too, of
the Methodist church, when it pitched
Dr. Thomas overboard, to sink or swim,
as he might, in the broad, free waters
of the world. The same trait is exhib
ited in a great variety of ways. It is
the very thing which makes so wide a
distinction between our “evangelical”
neighbors and ourselves. Each party
adheres to its own doctrines, firmly and
strongly, and that is all well enough,
but while we are willing to acknowl
edge all g<)od people to be Christians,
according to the test, “By their fruits
ye shall know them,” they seem to
overlook the test of goodness, and all
virtues beside, and to rest and rely en
tirely on the essentials of doctrinal
faith. Paul says : “N ow abideth faith,
hope and charity, these three, but the
greatest of these is charity;” yet the
doctrinal dogmatist affirms, “Now abid
eth charity, hope and faith, but the
greatest of the three, and by far the
greatest of all great things, is sound,
evangelical, orthodox faith. It was
that position which ousted Swing and
Thomas; it was the same position
which barred the door against Chan
ning, Ballou, and a host of the saints
in every age ; they believed in the faith,
they clung to the hope, but they made
charity supreme over all.
True doctrines are indispensable to a
right gospel faith, but the common vir
tues of life must not be overlooked.
Here lies the point of danger. Doc
trines are good for nothing, except as
they affect the heart and the life for
good. The very object of “doctrine,
reproof, correction and instruction in
righteousness” is, that the “man of
God may be perfect, thoroughly fur
nished unto all good works.” The doc
trines of the intellect must distill in
love upon the heart, and flow out in
gentle offices of good to all around.
That was the rule of the Saviour, “By
this shall all men know that ye are my
disciples, if ye have love one to an
other.” And therefore you see, it is
not right to get around to the doctrinal
side of Christianity, and then insist
that it has no other side. The gospel is
a full-rounded, many-featured, and very
beautiful thing. It is adapted to all
times, all seasons, all places, all per
sons, and all circumstances. In the
brightest periods of youth, it is a glori
ous vision; when sadness and suffering
come, that vision is radiant with love.
And so believers of the gospel ought
never to forget, whatever their personal
peculiarities may be, that “the end of
the commandment is charity, out of a
pure heart, and of a good conscience,
and of faith unfeigned.”
Auother man thinks religion synony
mous with fear. He sees in the gloomy
man the genuine religious man. The
very clouds and storms, nature’s agen
cies for good, are emblems of divine
wrath to him. He always appeals to
the awful consequences of not being
religious. If you are not solemnly
pious to-day, you shall go down to end
less burnings to-morrow. He seems to
forget that nature has sunlight, and
rainbows, and flowers, and singing birds,
and many beautiful things which be
speak the cheerfulness and the happi
ness of God's children, as the children
of nature. He makes the fear of end
less woe the basis, the center, the su
perstructure, the crown, the sine qua non
of the gospel. He does not like the
preacher, if he will not appeal to the
sentiment of fear in the most terrific
manner. He must make the gospel a
magazine of fireworks—of blazing pyro
technics—of terrible thunderbolts -of
dynamite earthquakes—and he must
make the sinner believe they shall play
upon him eternally, if he will not re
pent and join the church. Tertullian
was a good ancient example of this man
of terror. Jonathan Edwards is a very
good modern example. And here is
another influence making mischief in
the world, by presenting the gospel in
an unattractive character, and religion
in an unlovely light.
This class of men are not found in
any one denomination exclusively, but
they are found in all who claim to be,
par (xcelknce, “evangelical." Their great
mistake is in carrying the principle of
fear too far. Men ought to “fear God
and keep his commandments,” but that
fear should be based on a just, deserved,
and limited punishment, for the good
of the punished, not on an unjust,
unmerciful, and unlimited display of
infinite horror. Those who take that
ground have gone beyond the very ex
treme of gospel fear, and the position
has done great injury to the cause of
“pure and undented religion,” beside
being a serious “bone of contention”
between the ancient pulpit and the
modern pew. “There is no fear in love,
but perfect love casteth out fear, be
cause fear hath torment,—he that fear
etli, is not made perfect in love.”
Here I take the ground that pure
Christianity embraces all the sides, ali
the phases, all the characteristics I have
mentioned, though somewhat modified
and chastened by their mutual relations
and harmonies. It includes all useful
forms, all correct sentiments, all pure
devotion, all sound moral principles,
all essential doctrines, and all godly
fear. And as the grand foundation of
the whole, it rests upon the broad basis
of universal and individual love. God
is love. These are all combined in pure
Christianity. They make the sum total
of universal truth and goodness of Uni
versalism. Any one of these features
is only one of the features of the gos
pel. It takes them all to make a full
round sun—the sun of righteousness—
that shall enlighten and warm the world.
God’s system of truth and love is broad
enough for the whole universe. And
universal truth and love—Universal
ism—is the only plan which answers to
our highest ideal, the blazing mountain
summit which enlightens and warms
the world.
Of course, there are some things
which may, and should, and will be crit
icised, whenever they are seen or heard
in the pulpit; a boorish manner, slov
enly dress, bad pronunciation, incor
rect grammar, ignorant allusions to
science, art, literature, law, history,
etc.; but these things seldom get into
the pulpit, in modern civilized society,
and when they do, they are not apt to
stay very long. The school-master is
abroad, and the graded school and col
lege are very common. S> it is not
needed that this department of our
subject shall receive more than this
passing allusion.
Yet it is quite possible that acoEgre
gation may lack good manners, may
promise and not perform, may come
straggling in and disturb the prompt
and serious worshipers, may fail to ap
preciate their privileges, and so catch
up every “bone of contention,” and
whirl every “fire-brand” of mischief.
This, too, is not a pleasant part of our
theme, it is one of the repulsions of
which the world is quite too full, and
so I pass it by, with this vague hint of
what might be possible, if one were dis
posed to picture a model congregation,
and its reverse. I will not attempt to
do that work to-day.
The practical inference from this
subject is, “No man should make him
self a standard for the world—an infal
lible oracle—and let his arrows fly at
all who do not chance to agree with
him, but each should endeavor to com
prehend all the traits, and all the graces,
of a fully endowed Christian, and make
charity the supreme rule of life.” The
photograph of your friend may be a
front view, or a side view, or a back
view, and no two views will be just
alike. A hundred men may view the
city of London from a hundred stand
points, and no one man's view would
be recognized by any other man. Very
much so it is with the gospel of Christ,
with the written or spoken word, with
the men in the pulpit, and the people
in the pew. Each stands at a different
angle of vision, and each has personal,
mental and moral bents of his own.
Hence come the attractions, and repul
sions, between the pulpit and the pew.
Yet all our interests and duties are the
same. We may use forms, because
they are useful. We may be sentimen
tal, because refined sentiment is a
blessing to the world. We may prac
tice devotion, because there is a Divin
ity who is worthy of all reverence and
love. We may and must act out moral
principle, because we cannot be honest
otherwise. We may adhere to the greet,
pure, essential doctrines of the gospel,
because they are true and right, and
there are no teachings from any source
which can be compared with them.
We may and should cherish a godly
fear, because of our just responsibility
to God. And above all, and as the
basis of all, we may ever manifest that
love to each other and the world, which
God through the Saviour so constantly
manifests toward us. Thus shall we
all be Christians, indeed, the highest
of human attainments,—thus shall all
criticisms between pulpit and pew be
kindly affectionate, and do good, and
thus, and only thus, can we exhibit 1 he
many traits of the one true character
before the world.
-Says the Boston Traveller: ‘On
Tuesduy, surrounded by their children,
grandchildren, brothers, sisters and de
voted friends, Professor and Mrs. Ed
ward A. Park, of Andover Theological
Seminary celebrated the fiftieth anni
versary of their marriage. They came,
after a mouth’s bridal, tour to the house
on Andover Hill, which has ever since
been their home and which is now known
all over the world, not only by those who
have been students in the theological
seminary, bat by hundreds of Phillips
Academy boys and Abbott Academy
girls, for its rettned and sympathetic at
mosphere, its genial hospitality and its
hearty Christian helpfulness. Among
the beautiful artistic gift3 of the friends
were a tea service which belonged to Mrs.
Park’s mother, who was a sister of Arthur
and Lewis Tappau, of noble anti slav
ery memory; silverware from Professor
Park’s childhood home hi Provideuce, K.
I.; a teaspoon once the property of Hal lie
Burr, sister of Aaron Burr, who, like Mrs.
Park’s father, Colonel William Edwards,
was a grandson of Jonathan Edwards
and his beautiful wife, Sarah Pierrepont;
and a priceless cbina plate, once the
property of Mary Franklin, the sister of
Ur. Benjamin Frauklin, who married
Hubert Holmes and became the great
great-grandmother of Mrs. Park.”
Independence is the name for what no
man possesses; nothing in the animate or
inanimate worlds is more dependent tbau
man.