_THE AWAKENING OF THE SOUL_
The process of physical awakening is not always sudden or swift. The
passage from sleep to consciousness is sometimes slow and difficult. The
soul's realization of itself is often equally long delayed. The effect
of eloquence on an audience has often been observed when one by one the
dormant souls wake up and begin to look out of their windows, the eyes,
at the speaker who is addressing them. In something the same way the
souls of men come to a consciousness of their powers and, with
clearness, begin to look out on their possibilities and their destiny.
The prodigal son in the parable of Jesus lived his earlier years without
an appreciation either of his powers or possibilities. When he came to
himself this appreciation flashed upon his will and he turned toward his
father.
Two chapters of this book will have to do with thoughts suggested by
this "pearl of parables," viz., the Soul's Awakening and its
Re-awakening. Before this young man decided to return to his father he
knew himself as an intelligent and as a responsible being; the power of
choice was not given him then for the first time. Long ere this he had
decided how he would use his wealth. He knew the difference between
right and wrong. He was intellectually and morally awake before he saw
things in their true relations. "The wine of the senses" intoxicated
him; the delights of the flesh seemed the only pleasures to be desired.
At first he did not discover the essential excellence of virtue or the
sure results of vice. Later, when he saw things in a clearer light,
their proper proportions and relations appeared, and he came to himself
and made the wise choice.
In this chapter we are to study the process of the soul's awakening to a
consciousness of its powers, and in a subsequent chapter that
re-awakening which is so radical as to merit the name it has usually
received, viz., the new birth.
There is a time when the soul first realizes itself as a personality
with definite responsibilities and relations. This experience comes to
some earlier, and to some with greater vividness, than to others. So
long as we are blind to our powers, responsibilities, relations, we can
hardly be said to be spiritually awake. He only is awake who knows
himself as a personality; who has heard the voice of duty; who, to some
extent, appreciates the fact that he is dependent on a higher
personality or power; and who recognizes that he is surrounded by other
personalities who also have their rights, responsibilities, and
relations. I think, I choose, I love, I know that I am dependent upon a
Being higher than myself. I see that I am related to other personalities
with rights as sacred as my own, and, therefore, that I must choose,
think, love so as to be acceptable to the One to whom I am responsible,
and harmonious with those by whom I am surrounded.
The soul's awakening is primarily a recognition and an appreciation of
its responsibility. It may think, choose, love, without realizing
responsibility, and, therefore, live as if it were the only being in the
universe; but the moment it recognizes responsibility it also discerns a
higher Person, and other persons, since responsibility to no one, and
for nothing, is inconceivable.
The soul's awakening, therefore, carries with it the idea of obligation,
and that includes the recognition of God, of duty, of right and wrong,
in short, of a moral ideal. I do not mean to insist that every one
appreciates all that is implied in consciousness of responsibility.
There are degrees of alertness, and some men are wide awake and others
half asleep.
However it may have come to its self-realization, that is a solemn and
sublime moment when a human soul understands, ever so dimly, that it is
facing in the unseen Being one on whom it knows itself to be dependent;
and when it discerns the hitherto invisible lines which bind it to other
personalities, in all space and time. At that moment life really begins.
Henceforward, by various ways, over undreamed-of obstacles, assisted by
invisible hands, hindered by unseen forces, in spite of foes within and
enemies without, the course of that soul must ever be toward its true
home and goal, in the bosom of God.
The difficulties in the way of such a faith for the thoughtful and
sensitive are many and serious. Not all blossoms come to fruitage; not
all human beings are fit to live; processes of degeneration seem to be
at work in nature, in society, and in the individual life.
Apparently true and time-honored interpretations of Scripture are quoted
against the faith that in some way, and by some kind of discipline, the
souls of men will forever approach God; while the belief of the church,
so far as it has found expression in the creeds is urged in opposition.
But when I see how timidly the creeds of the church have been held by
many in all ages, how large a number of the most spiritual and morally
earnest have questioned them at this point, and how often they have been
rejected in whole, or in part, by those who have dared to trust their
hearts; when I remember that the Scripture quoted as opposing is
susceptible of another interpretation, when I remember that blossoms are
not men, and, most of all when I see the God-like possibilities in
every human being, I cannot resist the conviction that every soul of man
is from God, and that, sometime and somehow, it may be by the hard path
of retribution, possibly through great agonies and by means of austere
chastisements and severe discipline as well as by loving entreaty, after
suffering shall have accomplished all its ministries it will reach a
blissful goal and the "beatific vision."
The awakening of the soul is its entrance upon an appreciation of its
powers, relations, possibilities, and responsibilities.
What awakens the soul? The answer to that question is hidden. The wind
bloweth where it listeth. Elemental processes and forces are all silent
and viewless. The stillness of the sunrise is like that of the deeps of
the sea. No eye ever traced the birth of life, and no sound ever
attended the awakening of the soul; and yet this subject is not
altogether mysterious. A few rays of light have fallen upon it. I
venture suggestions which may help a little toward a rational answer to
this question.
The soul awakens because it grows, and its growth is sure. Everything
that is alive must grow; only death is stationary. It is as natural for
us sometime to know ourselves as having relations both to the seen and
the unseen as for our bodies to increase in stature. The Confession of
Augustine[3] is true of all, "Thou madest us for Thyself, and our heart
is restless until it repose in Thee."
[Footnote 3: Confessions. Book I, 1.]
The soul turns toward God as naturally as children turn toward their
parents. I know no other way of explaining the fact that in all ages the
majority of the people have had faith in some kind of a deity; and that,
widely as they differ as to what is right, all feel that they should
follow their convictions of duty. The various ethnic religions, however
repulsive, cruel, and vile some of their teachings may be, all indicate
a realization of dependence, and all, in some way, bear witness to man's
longing for God. Augustine was right--"The heart is restless until it
repose in Thee."
The healthful soul will always move along the pathway of growth. The
next stage in its evolution after its birth is its awakening. Its
progress may be hindered, but it cannot be prevented, and it may be
hastened.
The means by which a soul comes to its self-realization has been a
favorite study with poets, dramatists, and novelists. Marguerite, in
"Faust," was a simple, sweet, sensuous, traditionally religious girl
until she was rudely startled by the knowledge that she was a great
sinner; that moment the scales began to fall from her eyes. In her,
Goethe has shown how one class of persons, and that a large class, come
to self-realization.
Victor Hugo, in a passage of almost unparalleled pathos, has pictured in
Jean Valjean a kind of big human beast who, when half awake, steals a
loaf of bread to save others from starving, but who is startled into
fullness of manhood by the sympathy and consideration of the good Bishop
whose silver he had also stolen.
Hawthorne, in Donatello, has pictured a beautiful creature fully
equipped with affections, emotions, passions, but with little
consciousness of responsibility, until the fatal moment in which a crime
illuminates his soul like a flash of lightning.
Such experiences are not to be compared with those of the prodigal son
or of Saul. Before the one was reduced to husks, or the light blazed
upon the other, they felt the obligation to do right. The prodigal chose
pleasure with his eyes wide open and Saul was, mistakenly but truly,
trying to do God's will even when he assisted in the stoning of Stephen.
Hugo, Goethe, and Hawthorne have accurately delineated single steps in
the growth of the soul. They have shown how the process of the soul's
awakening may be, and often has been, hastened. It may be hindered by
false ideals and a vicious environment, and it may be hastened by lofty
ideals and a holy environment.
Dr. Bushnell, in his lectures on Christian Nurture, has said that the
formative years of every man's life are the first three. Is he correct?
I am not sure, but there can be no doubt but what with a good
environment the consciousness of moral obligation will be very early
developed.
The soul cannot long be imprisoned. The consciousness of "ought" and
"ought not" will break all barriers as a growing seed will split a
rock; and, when that stage of growth appears, the soul knows itself.
When the soul is finally awakened, when it realizes that it is
indissolubly bound to a larger personality in the unseen sphere; when it
finds that it is tied to other souls, and that it cannot escape from its
responsibility for itself and them,--what then? Then the struggle of
life begins. The awakening is to a realization of conflict with the seen
and unseen environment, with forces within and fascinations without.
When Paul speaks of the law as the minister of death, he simply means
that law introduces an ideal, and ideals always start struggles. Law is
something to be obeyed. It is sure to antagonize the animal in man. When
our possibilities dawn upon us, in that moment there comes the feeling
that they should be our masters. Then the lower nature resists and
becomes clamorous. Duty calls in one direction and inclination impels
in another. The period of ignorance has passed. Weakness and
imperfection remain, but not ignorance. There is a conflict in the soul.
The law in the members wars against the law in the mind. We feel that we
ought to move upward, but unseen weights press heavily upon us, and to
rise seems impossible.
Between God calling from above and animalism from below the poor soul
has a hard time of it. The morally great in all ages have become strong
by overcoming their fleshly natures. They have risen on their dead
selves to higher things. The vision of God has reached them even in
their prison-houses; and it has broken their chains and they have begun
to move toward Him. To the end of the chapter they have had a long
fight, and not seldom have been sadly worsted. Goethe and Augustine,
Pascal and Coleridge, DeQuincey and Webster--how the list of those who
have had to fight bitter battles for spiritual liberty might be extended
I and many have not been victorious before the shadows have lengthened
and the day closed. Should they be blamed or pitied? Pitied, surely, and
for the rest let us leave them to Him who knoweth all things. "Vengeance
is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord." Men have nothing to do with
judgment; the final word concerning any soul will be spoken only by Him
whose vision is perfect. "Steep and craggy is the pathway of the gods,"
and steep and craggy is the path by which men rise to spiritual heights.
He who is sensitive to life can hardly survey this universal human
struggle with undimmed eye or with unquestioning faith. The young are
driven here and there by heartless and, sometimes, almost furious
passions; some are weak and fall because they are blind, and others
because they love and trust; and many who desire to do good mistake and
choose evil. The strong often try to run away from themselves but can
find no solitude in which to hide; and all the time right and truth
shine in the darkness like stars. What shall we say of these confusing
conditions? To ignore them is foolish; to insist that the struggle is
but a delusion is nonsense. The only sane course is to face facts and
adjust our theories to them.
The battle between duty and inclination, between the ideal and the
actual, will continue as long as life in the body endures. It is not an
unmixed evil. In the end right is never worsted. The way that leads to
holiness is long and sometimes bloody; but it always develops strength
and courage. The fight, for each individual, will be ended only by the
full and perfect choice of truth and virtue, which are always the will
of God. The victory will be secure long before it is fully won. Enough
for us to know that conformity to the will of God at last will be the
end of strife.
It is not well to be overmuch troubled when we see those whom we love
fighting a hard battle against inherited tendencies and an evil
environment, for the fight, however fierce, is a good sign. Those alone
are to be pitied who are drifting, and not resisting. Progress is ever
by a steep and spiral pathway. Sometimes the face of the ascending soul
is toward the sun and sometimes it is toward the darkness. No man can
deliver his friend from the forces which oppose him. Each must conquer
for himself and none can evade the conflict. From the hour when the soul
awakens to a consciousness of its powers and possibilities, its
movement, in spite of all hindrances and difficulties, must be to the
heights. Those only need cause anxiety who are not yet awake; or who,
having been awake, have turned backward instead of pressing onward.
We are now face to face with a momentous inquiry. When the soul is
awake, when it realizes something of its descent from God and of its
relation to Him and to other souls, what should be its environment?
Intelligent and otherwise sane people at this point have been strangely
insane and blind. We are always affected by influence more than by
teaching. Education by atmosphere is quite as effective as education by
study. Involuntarily all become like their ideals. Personalities absorb
characteristics from surroundings as flowers absorb colors from the
light. The awakened soul, therefore, from the first should have a
spiritual environment. Parents and friends should be helps, not
hindrances, to its progress. I once read a letter from one who had
changed an old for a new home. The letter was full of aspiration for the
best things, of thoughts about God and the spiritual verities. It was
not difficult to see that the new home in its reverence for truth, its
loyalty to right, its reaching for reality, was providing the same good
influence as the old one. If, in the environment, truth and duty are
honored, virtue reverenced, God worshipped sincerely and devoutly,
manhood held to be as sacred as deity, the unseen and spiritual never
spoken of unadvisedly or lightly, courage always found hand in hand with
character, the soul will never long fight a losing battle.
The home should be organized to promote, as swiftly as possible, the
awakening of the souls of the children; and, from the moment of this
awakening, everything should be planned to help their growth. The books
on the tables should tell the life-stories of those who have bravely
fought and never faltered. Biographies of men like Wilberforce and
Howard who have lived to help their fellow-men; and of women like
Florence Nightingale and Lady Stanley, who have regarded their social
gifts and ample wealth as calls to service; histories of charities,
intellectual development and noble achievement, pictures like Sir
Galahad and The Light of the World are potent forces in the formation of
character. The ideal side of life should ever be presented in its most
attractive form to the awakened soul in its near environment. Because
the ideal culminates in the religious, and the feeling of moral
obligation rests at last upon the conviction that God is, and that He is
not far from any one, Jesus, in all the beauty and pathos of His earthly
career, in all the tragic grandeur of His death and glory of His
Resurrection, in all the nearness and helpfulness of His continuing
ministry, should be the subject of frequent, earnest, honest, sane, and
sympathetic conversation.
The awakened soul needs first of all an environment which will be
favorable to its growth. Its development then will usually be steadily
and swiftly toward God and conformity to His will. There ought to be no
need of any re-awakening. If the soul opens its eyes among those who
reverence truth and righteousness, who guard virtue and revere love, to
whom God is the nearest and most blessed of realities, and Jesus is
Master, Saviour, and daily Friend, its growth toward the spiritual goal
will be as natural and beautiful as it will also be swift and sure.