From Bondage to Liberty in Religion Part 1

From Bondage to Liberty in Religion.

by George T. Ashley.

FOREWORD

The substance of what is written in this book has been given on several occasions during the past five years in the form of sermons or lectures. On each occasion they met with such hearty commendation, and so many requests that they be written and published in book form that they might have a wider circulation, that I have been induced to undertake it. This volume is the result.

It is in no sense a treatise on controverted theological questions; altho some of these are incidentally treated, but only as they entered as factors into my own religious life and experience. This book is simply the story of my own religious life from my early childhood to the present time, in its various transitions from the narrowest orthodoxy to a broad, liberal, rational religious faith. It necessarily deals to some extent with certain theological problems that from time to time confronted me, the way in which I solved them, the conclusions I finally reached, and why I reached them. But these have been treated in mere outline only. The temptation has been very great to treat, some of these at least, more elaborately; but I have been compelled to content myself often with the bare statement of my views, with few or no detailed arguments to support them. But as my object has been, not so much to try to solve these problems for others, as to point the way thereto, and stimulate the reader to further inquiry and deeper investigation of the subjects treated, if I have succeeded in this, my main object has been accomplished.

No one is more sensible of the many defects in this work than I am. It makes no pretension to any literary merit, nor to any scholarly erudition. I am not a "professional writer." I have simply tried to tell my story in a simple way and make it "readable" if possible. My sole purpose in writing these pages has been to try to help others who may still be in the fetters of ecclesiastical bondage, or wandering in the quagmires of agnosticism--and I know there are many such--to find the way to light and liberty in a rational religious faith. If I can accomplish this, even in a small degree, I shall feel abundantly repaid for the time and labor spent in reviewing the story of my own religious evolution.

INTRODUCTION

When the traveller, bent on some important quest, makes a prolonged and perilous journey and returns in safety to his friends and neighbors, instinctively those who have known him in former years realize that he is, and he is not, the same person who had dwelt among them. He has seen unfamiliar peoples, traversed strange lands, encountered unexpected dangers. Old prepossessions have been effaced, erroneous opinions have been corrected, new habits of thought have taken the place of old ones and the narrow world of youth has expanded on every side. Naturally, what has happened to him becomes a matter of curiosity and enquiry, and the hero of a great achievement is expected to relate the story of his adventures.

The man who, in these revolutionary days, takes religion seriously--there are many who do not--must make a journey which is fraught with as many surprises and filled with as many anxieties--especially if it be a pilgrimage from orthodoxy to personal independence--as that which the explorer encounters in a voyage to the North Pole or the jungles of Africa. At every turning of the way he must be prepared for disillusions and the discovery of facts and errors which call for unlimited courage and boundless faith. Religion is not simply a matter of the emotions, its very perpetuity depends upon that sane and persistent activity of the intellect without which the emotions are tyrannous and fateful. Emotion in religion is the driving force by which religion may be applied to human welfare, but if emotion be not governed and directed by the well-trained intellect, informed by patient thought and the use of all the evidence available from those who are ent.i.tled to be summoned as witnesses, the result inevitably is merely a matter of superst.i.tion, or a spineless acquiescence in old and futile beliefs. To continue all the while to believe in _religion_ while one is pursuing a course of reasoning which is bound to shatter many of the interpretations of it which one has previously accepted, requires the kind of intellectual endurance and the quality of faith which characterize the inventor, or the scientific explorer.

When the author of this volume, as an unquestioning disciple of his ancestral fellows.h.i.+p, earnestly sought to pledge all that he was and all that he hoped to become to the salvation of those who he believed stood in peril of everlasting torment, it was the unadulterated spirit of religion which prompted him. But he was at that time unaware of that fact. Religion was with him when it moved him to give himself for others, but to him religion was itself something entirely different.

He was urged and commanded by a force, old as mankind, and it took him, as the reader of these pages will see, many years of heart-breaking endeavor, to learn that what most he desired was what most he possessed. His quest was a long and weary one, and the reality of it and the importance of it to him are proven by the thoroughness and the eloquence with which his spiritual experience is recalled and set down in these pages. Only one who had begun in earnest, proceeded in anxiety and continued to the end, as if he absolutely believed in the integrity of the human reason and the intimate friendliness of a supreme Guidance, could have emerged at last triumphantly and with the ability to tell the tale.

To him who thinks of religion only as a matter of course, or as an affair of the church, or as a medium of social advantage; or to him who identifies religion with the ravings of half-witted fanatics and regards it with patronizing contempt, this book will make no appeal.

But to the man or woman who has learned that religion is one thing and theology another, and at whatever cost, is willing to share with the author in his struggle to know the truth about it and be at peace, these pages will command undivided attention; for they relate not only the story of mental perplexity ending in a great personal solution, but they likewise have the charm of a real romance of the soul.

LEWIS G. WILSON.

FROM BONDAGE TO LIBERTY IN RELIGION

A RELIGIOUS AUTOBIOGRAPHY

CHAPTER I

MY CHILDHOOD, YOUTH AND EDUCATION

Practically all people inherit their first religious opinions from their parents, their early environment or both, as I did mine. The trouble with most of us is that we never get beyond that stage. We take it for granted that these opinions, whether about religion, politics or anything else, are correct, because we have been told so, and never go out of our way or trouble ourselves for a moment to investigate their truth or error. And thus we go on from generation to generation, traveling in the same old ruts, thinking the same old thoughts, in the same old way, each of us a.s.suming that our particular ancestors could not possibly have been wrong about anything; and although Christianity is divided into several hundred different denominations and creeds, each believes his creed to be absolutely correct and all the others partly or wholly wrong.

Like Saul of Tarsus, I belonged to the Pharisees of the strictest sect.

I was taught from infancy that the church of my parents was the one and only true, scriptural and orthodox church on earth, with an unbroken organic succession from Jesus Christ himself down to the present time; that it was the only true exponent of apostolic faith and practice; the only true and lawful custodian of the word of G.o.d, and the only authority for the administration of the ordinances of the gospel; that all other organizations claiming to be churches were not churches in fact, but merely religious societies; and that while some of these societies might do some little good in the world, and some of their members might ultimately be saved, they could never reach those sublime heights of glory reserved exclusively for the truly baptized members of the true and only church. Just when and how these ideas first took concrete form in my mind it is impossible for me now to remember. As above intimated, in the plastic condition of my youthful mind, I naturally absorbed them from the very atmosphere in which I lived, from the common talk I heard around me, as well as from the direct instruction given me.

As far back as I can remember, I understood the Bible to be the word of G.o.d, every word of it, from the first word in Genesis to the last "Amen" of Revelation; that it was all divinely inspired, _verbatim et literatim_, just as it appeared in the old King James version; that it was G.o.d's revelation to mankind, beside and outside of which there never was, and never would be any other; that every word of it was literally, and infallibly true, just as it read. Such a thing as figurative, or allegorical interpretations I never heard of until I was a grown man, as we shall see later.

This, of course, meant a literal six-day Creation, an anthropomorphic G.o.d, a literal physical heaven, and likewise a literal, physical h.e.l.l, a personal devil, the absolute, literal, truth of the story of Eden, the original perfection and fall of man, total depravity of the race, vicarious atonement and the eternal d.a.m.nation of all mankind, individually and collectively, who did not accept the prescribed creed of the church of my parents, as the only means of escape.

My first conception of G.o.d was that of a great big good man sitting high up in heaven on a great white throne, whence He would judge the world; that heaven was a great city somewhere up in the skies, with streets of gold and walls of jasper; that h.e.l.l was a literal burning lake of fire and brimstone somewhere down under the world, and that it was presided over by the devil and was made to burn people in who were not good, or who had not believed in Christ as a personal Savior. As a little child I was taught that if I was not a good boy, when I died, the devil, usually spoken of as "the bad man," would get me and burn me in this h.e.l.l forever and ever; and that I never could burn up or die, and if I called for water he would pour melted lead down my throat.

Many a time I would think over this horrible torture that I might inadvertently fall into by doing some bad thing when at heart I really meant to be good, and sincerely wish I had never been born.

In my night visions I could see the devil with his tea-kettle of melted lead, pouring it down the throats of the helpless little ones, writhing in the tortures of the never ending fire!

On the day that I was twelve years old a little incident occurred that so indelibly stamped itself on my mind, and so changed the course of my thoughts thereafter, that it is necessary to mention it. I was proud I had reached that stage of life. I was boasting of it to a hired man, with whom I was doing an errand, informing him that I was now "more than half a man," and that in nine more years I would be a man, when "I could do as I pleased." He informed me that, after all, it was not a thing to be so proud of; that I had that day reached "the age of accountability"; that on that day I became personally responsible to G.o.d for my sins; that if I had died before that day I would have been saved from h.e.l.l by G.o.d's free grace, because of my infancy; but that _from that day on_, I must account to G.o.d for myself; and that it would be necessary for me to repent, and pray daily for the forgiveness of my sins, lest I die and fall into the "bottomless pit" for all eternity.

This was news to me. I had never heard of before. It produced a profound sensation in my thought; and to say it seriously troubled me is to put it mildly. As soon as my errand was done I went to my mother with it. She confirmed it. Then I sincerely wished I had died before I reached that fateful day.

Another serious trouble confronted me. When told I must repent of my sins and pray for forgiveness, I could not comprehend just what it meant to "repent." I was told that it was "to be sorry" for my sins.

To be frank, I was not conscious of any sin. I had tried to be a good boy; I was obedient to my parents, and did no evil to any one that I was aware of. True, I made childish mistakes every day, as all children do. But I could not recognize that I had been personally sinful against G.o.d. I knew I had not meant to be. Then they told me that I was _born_ a sinner! That when Adam ate the "forbidden fruit"

it made every person that was ever born into the world thereafter, a sinner by nature; and I would have to repent of this sin, as well as all that I ever committed, if I ever expected to escape the lake of fire and brimstone "where the worm dieth not and the fire is not quenched." My whole nature, even as a child, revolted against the injustice of thus making me responsible for, and punis.h.i.+ng me for something some one else did thousands of years ago; but I had no remedy and had to take it and prepare to repent of Adam's sin.

What a monstrous doctrine to teach a child! Can any mortal in this age of the world believe such nonsense, or perpetrate such a caricature of G.o.d? I wondered how the "Good Man" up in the skies on his great white throne in his beautiful city of gold, could be just and plunge a little child into h.e.l.l and burn it for ever and ever because Adam ate fruit from the wrong tree! But I believed it then, because I was told so, and knew no better. I don't believe it now, and how any human being with the instincts of justice pertaining to the common brute creation can believe such a thing is a mystery to me.

As time went on I learned more about repentance, faith, conversion, baptism and the current theology of my time and environment. But I was ever anxious to escape from that dreaded h.e.l.l that ever yawned before me in daytime and disturbed my dreams at night. The thought of it was a veritable nightmare to me. It destroyed the happiness of my early life. As a child I could not reconcile it with any conception of G.o.d's goodness or justice. I was often, in the silence of my heart, tempted to rebel against G.o.d and defy him. But I was afraid. My thought was to make the best I could of a bad situation, and at the earliest possible moment make good my escape. Perhaps this is as good a place as any to state the fact that my parents were members of the Baptist Church, and that in this faith I was brought up. However, I am glad to be able to state that they were much broader and more liberal in their views than many of their brethren. I do not wish to be unjust to this great organization; but it is necessary here to make some statements concerning its doctrine and practice, in order that my future relations to it may be the better understood--statements, the truth of which, all intelligent Baptists will testify to.

First, the Baptist Church is just as exclusive in its claim to being the only true, scriptural, orthodox, apostolic Church as are the Catholics, Episcopalians, or any other Christian body. But this applies _only_ to their ecclesiastical organization, and _not_ to the character of its members.h.i.+p.

Second, it _does not_ hold that baptism is essential to salvation, but that it _is_ to church members.h.i.+p. They do not baptize people _to make_ them Christians; but because they recognize them as already being Christians, thru repentance, faith in Christ, and the regeneration of the Holy Spirit. Thus, they _recognize_ the true Christian character of any and all others who furnish evidence of these fundamental characteristics of a Christian life, tho they do not recognize them as "church members," no matter to what other ecclesiastical organization they may belong. These statements are necessary to understand what follows.

Now in the country where I was brought up, in the time of my boyhood, there were but two churches,--Baptists and Methodists. In fact I was nearly grown before I knew there were any others at all. These churches were generally friendly--in a way. While there was occasional criticism of each by the other, and some controversy over doctrinal differences, there was no open warfare; and often members of each would attend and wors.h.i.+p with the other.

As above said, I was anxious to make terms with G.o.d by repenting, being baptized, or anything else that would relieve me of that constant dread of eternal d.a.m.nation that overshadowed my life.

Perhaps the reader has already surmised that I was brought up in the country districts. Our churches usually held services but once a month. But in the summer, when the "crops were laid-by," we usually had our "protracted meetings," usually lasting a week--from Sunday to Sunday--having two services a day at the church, with dinner on the ground "for all who came." This was the annual revival season, when sinners were "s.n.a.t.c.hed from the eternal burning," back-sliders reclaimed and the cold and indifferent warmed up and aroused.

Well, the summer after I was twelve years old and had reached that fateful period of "personal accountability," at our protracted meeting, I wanted to go to the "mourner's bench," repent, join the church and be baptized, and thus make good my escape and my "calling and election sure." At this time I had no clear conception of the meaning of conversion. Somehow I identified it with joining the church and being baptized. Contrary to the teachings of my church--which at that time I did not understand,--to me, baptism was the main thing. I wanted to be baptized. But they told me I was too young,--and too small to go down into the deep water. This was a great disappointment. But I saw a ray of hope.

The next week the Methodist Church near our home had its protracted meeting and we attended. There I saw children, younger and smaller than myself go to the mourner's bench, join the church and be baptized,--by sprinkling. They even sprinkled babies. While I clearly understood that this was not _true baptism_, I also knew that many of the Methodists were considered truly good people, good Christians, and sure of heaven at death, notwithstanding their lack of true baptism. I therefore conceived the idea that after all, this sprinkling might possess some merit, at least provisionally; and I therefore insisted on being permitted to join the Methodist Church and be sprinkled for the time being, as a sort of emergency measure, until I should grow up to that age--and size--where I might join the Baptist Church and be baptized right. But this pleasure was denied me.

During the next two years I learned much; for I was a close student, altho only a child. My mind also underwent a considerable change.

That constant and tormenting fear and dread of h.e.l.l gradually weakened.

In fact I was consciously growing more and more indifferent toward it.

Yet I was not altogether uninterested. I had learned much more about the meaning of "conversion" as I saw it manifested in many, and sometimes violent, forms of demonstration. As I saw these I fancied that this was the kind of conversion I would like to have. I wanted to "get happy and shout" as some of the others did.

The time came for the annual protracted meeting at the church of my parents. At this meeting I found myself the object of considerable solicitude. I was now old enough to be converted, join the church and be baptized. They were all anxious that I be "saved." Of course I had to repent of my sins,--and also of Adam's. I was not so self-conscious of innocence now as I was a few years before. I really felt that I had something to repent of.

The preacher, and a good honest, sincere man he was, pictured the flames of h.e.l.l and the torments of the d.a.m.ned with such power that I almost felt the warmth of its fires and smelled its fumes of sulphur.

I set out in earnest to repent of my own sins as well as Adam's.

Repenting was very easy. I cried until the tears refused to flow longer. Believing was easy, for I believed it all. Being baptized was easy. But I had not yet been "converted." There was no miraculous transformation in me. I had not yet "got happy and shouted." I waited for it. My tears dried up. I still went to the "mourners' bench," but nothing came of it. I could not even cry. One day the preacher, noting my condition, had a talk with me. I told him my feelings, and he said I was converted. But I told him that no such change had come over me as the others told about, and that seemed manifest in their emotions and actions. Then he told me that as I was young and had never been a great sinner I could not expect that wonderful "experience" that often comes to the old and hardened cases. I was truly glad to hear it. I really felt saved. I had now escaped the devil. I had already learned the doctrine of "once in grace always in grace," and I felt supremely happy to think that after all I had now escaped from the "eternal burning" and was entirely out of danger. I joined the church and was baptized.

I have thus referred at some length to my childhood for two reasons: It will be seen later how some of these experiences affected my after-life; and also because I feel that in some measure I am only repeating in substance the experiences of millions of others who have pa.s.sed through similar conditions of life. Also to say to you, who were brought up in the light of a liberal faith and free from these dogmas of dread, despair and d.a.m.nation, that you ought to be sincerely thankful that you have escaped at least this much of h.e.l.l, no matter how much the orthodox may have in store for you in the future; and further, to exonerate my parents from any blame in the premises. They taught me only as they had been taught and firmly believed, and did it all for what they honestly believed, to be for my best interests. Like millions of others, they did the best they knew at the time.

THE CALL TO PREACH.--It was a part of the orthodox belief at that time, and is very largely so even now, that after the fall of Adam, practically all the human race was lost except now and then a worthy patriarch like Abel, Enoch and Noah, down to the call of Abraham; and after that only the pious and faithful of the seed of Abraham, thru Isaac, were saved, down to the coming of Christ. All the balance of mankind were utterly and irretrievably lost, both wicked and apostate Jews and _all_ Gentiles. And since the death of Christ those only are saved who repent and believe in him as a personal savior, and accept the prescribed creed of the particular church presenting it. All the balance of mankind, including all Jews and nine-tenths of the balance of mankind are irretrievably lost.

This being the case, the sole end and aim in life is to escape h.e.l.l hereafter. Nine-tenths of the preaching in my boyhood was to warn men to "flee from the wrath to come." But little was said about the love of G.o.d or the brotherhood of man, the n.o.bility of character, human helpfulness, the promotion of happiness here, and the general uplift and advancement of civilization and mankind.