A more notable case was that of Peter. You remember his glorious
response to our Lord's challenge, "Whom say ye that I am?" Peter
promptly and gladly responded, "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the
living God." By that confession, Peter has covered his name with
immortal honor. You remember, too, his sermon on the day of Pentecost,
when three thousand men were converted. You recall also that sermon a
little later when the converts numbered five thousand. Yes; but the man
who was thus owned and honored really believed that the Gospel was for
the Jews alone. Notwithstanding all his advantages, he was really a
subject of that delusion. And he continued so for some time. Three
miracles had really to be wrought to convince Peter to the contrary.
This want of proportion in the man's illumination is really marvellous.
It goes a long way to explain many revivals since that time.
Thus, Peter--grand apostle though he was--and notwithstanding that for
three years he had been the bosom friend of Christ--had very narrow
views as to the intended scope of the Gospel. He believed that the
Gentiles were common and unclean; and it took, first a vision, and then
a miraculous experience, to cure him of that insular idea. But he was
cured, and never went back to his former contracted ideas.
So, it seems to me, the Christian World of to-day needs a vision along
the same line; but larger. They have to take in the millions of
un-Christian people in Christian lands, together with the uncounted
millions of heathen during all time; and they have to learn that from
the divine standpoint not one individual of them all is common or
unclean. We believe that every one of them is destined for glory, and
honor, and immortality. It may take a long time, and methods which as
yet we know nothing of, to work out that glorious issue; but we cannot
conceive of anything less as being worthy of eternal wisdom, power,
and love.
From this point of view there can be no uncertainty about the end.
Whether we think of God as desiring the highest character and happiness
of His creatures; or whether we think of the means that Christ has used,
and is using, to secure that end; or whether we think of the capacity of
man for attaining the highest and the best--we can have no doubt that
suffering will ultimately be done away, and that God will be all in all!
That is, everything in everybody! Let us try to realize it. It is no
mere golden dream.
I heard lately of a boy in Chicago under whose addresses people were
being continually converted; and it was said there was nothing peculiar
about his addresses but want of grammar. It is thus that God often
chooses the weak things of the world to confound the mighty. The mere
fact, then, that successful revivalists believed in the old theory of
eternal torment, is no proof, nor even an indication, that it is true.
What a recoil we experience now when we read Jonathan Edwards' appalling
description of sinners in the hands of an angry God! Even our beloved
Spurgeon fell into this most horrible mistake. In all such cases it was
logical enough. These men were but honestly following up the necessary
result of their creed. Yet it may be well to quote Spurgeon's own
words, that we may see what the old doctrine infallibly leads to. He
says: "When thou diest, thy soul will be tormented alone. That will be a
hell for it. But at the Day of Judgment, thy body will join thy soul,
and then thou wilt have twin hells; thy soul sweating drops of blood,
and thy body suffused with agony. In fire, exactly like that we have on
earth, thy body will lie, asbestos-like, forever consumed, all thy veins
roads for the feet of pain to travel on, every nerve a string, on which
the devil shall forever play his diabolical tune of hell's
unutterable lament."
No doubt such descriptions are awful. But are they not reasonable, if
eternal torment is true? It is no use to turn away awe-stricken from
such details; they are quite in harmony with the main idea of torment.
Get the main idea right, and all such details will disappear. In fact,
they have largely disappeared now. Why? Because the main idea is really
disbelieved. Yes, disbelieved, though it is confessed. Surely, this
disloyalty to what in our inmost souls we believe to be the truth is
disloyalty to the Spirit of Truth.
Spurgeon's words are horrible enough; but they are far exceeded by
others. Take the case of the Rev. J. Furniss, in a book of his on the
"Sight of Hell." This author would be fiendish, if he were not silly.
Here are his words:
"Little child, if you go to hell, there will be a devil at your side to
strike you. He will go on striking you every minute forever and ever
without end. The first stroke will make your body as bad as the body of
Job, covered from head to foot with sores and ulcers. The second stroke
will make your body twice as bad as the body of Job. The third stroke
will make your body three times as bad as the body of Job. The fourth
stroke will make your body four times as bad as the body of Job. How,
then will your body be, after the devil has been striking it every
moment for a hundred millions of years without stopping?
"Perhaps at this moment, seven o'clock in the evening, a child is just
going to hell. To-morrow evening at seven o'clock, go and knock at the
gates of hell, and ask what the child is doing. The devils will go and
look. They will come back again, and say, The child is burning,' Go in a
week and ask what the child is doing. You will get the same answer, 'It
is burning,' Go in a year and ask. The same answer comes, 'It is
burning.' Go in a million years and ask the same question. The answer is
just the same, 'It is burning in the fire!'"
This is lurid enough; but is it not logical? It does seem to me that in
this as in many other instances there is a great want in the popular
imagination. Men will think it reasonable to believe in endless
suffering; consider it even a sure sign of orthodoxy; sometimes speak of
it glibly; but when the idea is drawn out into detail, they will shrink
back from the detail in horror.
The fact is, that the theory does not bear to be presented in detail;
when it is, even its supporters are horrified. Yet the most lurid
details are strictly logical. For there is no conceivable detail of
agony to be compared with that of its eternal duration. The most
dreadful suffering that can be imagined pales almost into insignificance
compared with the idea of endless--endless--endless duration. Even a
mild discomfort, if eternally prolonged, infinitely surpasses in amount
the most fearful suffering that has an end. But men will accept the
theory of endless suffering almost as a commonplace, yet recoil with
horror from any presentation of it in detail.
The fact that it does not bear to be even thought of in detail goes a
long way to discredit the whole theory. A little development of the
imagination here would be more effectual with the majority of men than
all the logic in the world. And let us not think that imagination is
some kind of a wild and exuberant offshoot of pure reason. No; it is a
God-given faculty, and of a quality almost divine. As Ruskin says, "It
is the greatest power of the soul."
Just think for a moment that sane men and kindly men could really
believe in the lurid descriptions which I have quoted! Yet this passed
for orthodoxy! Is it not a marvel that men ever believed it, or tried to
believe it? Only think of infinite love, infinite power, and infinite
wisdom, combining to accomplish such a result! It is almost beyond
belief that men of ordinary feeling, and with the Bible in their hands,
ever tried to believe it. For the truth must commend itself to the heart
as well as to the mind. If it does not, we ought to be on our guard.
On this most serious aspect of the case, I quote from Carlyle. He says:
"What the light of your mind, which is the direct inspiration of the
Almighty, pronounces incredible, that, in God's name, leave uncredited;
at your peril do not try believing that."
It will be seen that what I have elsewhere called an "affinity for
truth," Carlyle calls the "direct inspiration of the Almighty." There is
no contradiction. The one phrase notes the effect of our intuition; the
other recognizes its origin. At all events, this mental and moral
repugnance to the theory is a strong indication that it is not true.
On this most serious aspect of the case, let us pause for a moment
longer. The more our mind dwells on it the more pronounced is our
conviction that it is not true. Just think of one soul being consigned
to everlasting torment. Through ages and ages interminable, to be
succeeded by other ages forever and ever, the agony is prolonged, with
the absolute certainty that forever and ever there will be no release or
mitigation.
Would not the very thought of such a fate drive us insane? Surely it
would; yes, though the supposed criminal had committed the most
atrocious crimes, and though he had done us the worst conceivable wrong.
But here we are, giving our minds to business, our hearts to pleasure,
and our nights to sleep, yet all the while professing to believe that
one of our fellow creatures, perhaps one whom we have known, it may be
one whom we have loved, is in everlasting torment. Yet if a stranger was
confined in a burning house, we would make the most frantic efforts to
relieve him; and if we failed, the very memory of his fate would be
painful to us all our days.
But the case we are trying to imagine is very different. He is no
stranger, but one with whom we were acquainted; perhaps one of our own
family; possibly one whom we have loved as our own life. And he is not
suffering for a few minutes only, but forever and ever, without any
possibility of relief. Yet we go about our business or our pleasure
without giving him a thought. Is there not a strong presumption that
deep down in our souls we do not really believe that he is in eternal
torment? We may try to believe it; orthodoxy may tell us that it is
true; but do we really believe it? Our innate, God-given conviction may
turn out to be nearer the truth than our creed.
And let it be remembered that the supposed torment is eternal fire;
yes, eternal fire. We may conceive of the fire as being changed somehow
to suit our spiritual condition; but not less is it eternal fire. And we
calmly think of such endless fire as a possibility!
Yet we have thought of but one person as enduring such a fate. But if it
is the portion of even one, it must be so for countless millions. For
millions have lived and died in heathenism, and millions are dying in
heathenism now. Other millions in Christian lands are passing away in
practically the same condition. And all of these are our brothers and
sisters of the human race. By far the great majority of them had no
chance of hearing the joyful sound. Yet some of them rose to sublime
heights of character. And yet they are all consigned to this holocaust
of everlasting fire!
Consider also that the Being who is thus supposed to deal with these
uncounted myriads is a Being of mercy inconceivably tender; of a love
that is from everlasting to everlasting; of a wisdom that is infallible;
of a power that can use any means for the execution of His will. Then
ask yourself this question, and answer it truly from your own soul: Is
it possible to believe that such a Being has nothing better in store for
His own children? Surely, surely, such a fate as we profess to believe
must have had its origin in the heart and brain of a fiend! That it can
be seriously entertained by devout and reasonable men we think must be
accounted for on these grounds, that it comes to us with the stamp of
orthodoxy, and that it is not candidly examined. Otherwise, to every
sincere and candid mind, and to every heart that has any genuine
feeling, it would seem revolting and incredible.
With regard to the possibility of a man trying to persuade himself that
he really believes with mind what he utterly repudiates with his heart,
I have already quoted some very trenchant words from Caryle. In another
passage, he speaks of "the most orthodox of mortals making the impious
attempt to put out the eyes of his mind, to persuade himself to believe
that he believes." Then, he says: "Away with it; in the name of God,
come out of it, all true men."
Such forced complacency in the knowledge that loved friends are
consigned to hopeless torment, is repugnant to our humanity; yes, and
most repugnant when humanity is at its best. On such themes some people
do seem to lose their common sense and common feeling. If there were
nothing else, such outrageous conceptions ought to be enough to
discredit the whole theory of eternal torment. But we can endure the
idea of temporary separation, when we know that such separation is
necessary, and that it will issue in everlasting reunion.
As to the sincerity of our professed belief that thousands of the
heathen are every day dropping into everlasting fire, let me give a
diagram which I have just met with, showing the relative expenditure in
the United States for various commodities per year; and the amount
contributed for Foreign Missions. And yet, this is a liberal showing for
missions, compared with that of many other Christian countries.
================================================================= Liquor
===================================== Expenditures for Meat
=================================== Tobacco, Cigars, Etc.
================================= Bread, including Flour and Meal
=============================== Iron and Steel
============================== Dairy and Egg Products
=========================== Sawed Lumber
========================= Cotton Goods
======================= Boots and Shoes
====================== Woolen Goods
=================== Sugar and Molasses
================= Fruit
=============== Public School Education
============= Furniture
=========== Tea and Coffee
== Salaries of Ministries
= Foreign Missions
Now, will any person pretend that we are sincere in our professed
belief that the heathen are dropping by the thousand every day into
everlasting fire? Surely, if we really believed that, and if we believed
that there is only one way of averting such a fate, we would move heaven
and earth to avert it. The common-sense inference is, that we do not
really believe it. We may flatter ourselves that we do; long usage may
aid the deception; but let us be honest with ourselves, and see how the
case really stands. We may think that it would never do to drop the
traditional attitude; but let us be sure of this, that self-deception
can never be an aid to true religion. In this as in all things, let
truth have the right of way.
* * * * *
I have just seen an extract from a Canadian Journal which speaks for
itself. Here it is:
"To enter Canada costs a Chinaman $500. Last year thirteen hundred and
eighty paid the tax, the treasury of the country receiving from them
$690,000. _The Missionary Witness_ makes the statement that combined
contributions of the Christians of Canada for the evangelization of
heathen nations was only about half as much as the Chinese paid for the
privilege of living in Canada. It asks, Is it not amazing that in
prosperous Canada 1,380 men cannot be secured who will voluntarily tax
themselves to send the Gospel to heathen lands as much as 1,380
heathens are taxed by us to land on our shores? The love of Christ
constraineth us! How much?"
Have we not here a practical acknowledgment that the idea of the heathen
dropping every moment into endless fire is not really believed?
As I say elsewhere, this revulsion of heart and mind is a strong plea
that the doctrine is not true. And it is a fearful thing to quench that
inner light. I have already quoted Carlyle's trenchant words on this
point. But I have just now met with another saying of his of still more
scathing intensity; and I would ask you to ponder his words well. He
says: "What is incredible to thee, thou shalt not, at thy soul's peril,
attempt to believe. Elsewhither for a refuge, or die here. Go to
Perdition if thou must--but not with a lie in thy mouth; by the Eternal
Maker, no!"
To be sure, such courage and candor might cost dear. Some years ago
there was an able and conscientious minister of the Canadian
Presbyterian Church who took the risk of being candid. He was a most
lovable man; able, eloquent, active, helpful, humorous, candid, tender,
devout; in fact, possessed of nearly every desirable quality. But he had
the larger hope; and one day he unguardedly gave expression to it in the
words of Tennyson:
"O yet we trust that, somehow, good
Will be the final goal of ill--"
and so on. Immediately he was a marked man, and the question was not
allowed to settle until he was placed on trial for heterodoxy. There was
considerable turmoil and excitement; but ultimately some kind of a
compromise was reached by which his orthodoxy was vindicated. He told me
that if he were once out of the church of which he was then minister, he
could get no other. I suppose he meant that he could not accept the
standards of the church; and of course that attitude would debar him.