CHAPTER 18
of God who daily pray from three to four hours upon their faces. Living at the foot of the mountain, they indulge in smiles and considerable criticism of one who arises in the camp, and speaks of a fire-encircled Summit, where blessed truths were engraven by God’s finger on the tables of the heart. They overlook the spiritual meaning in the toilsome ascent of the mountain, the loneliness of the top, the waiting for days on God to reveal Himself. In a word they neglect the conditions of obtaining Divine
manifestations and blessings, and yet cry out against the statements of those who have fully obeyed these higher demands of the gospel.
If the Christian, descending to the camp from the fire-crowned mount, would only wear a veil, or if he would live his experience without any oral testimony, all would be well. It is the tongue that seems to hurt so in certain circles. Therefore, be it resolved, that, whosoever shall claim that he has received from Heaven anything different from, or superior to, the ecclesiastical circles of his village, town, or city, — behold! he shall be smitten at once upon the mouth. Be it, also, resolved that, whosoever shall strike this same offender with weapons of ridicule, misrepresentation, and oppression, he shall be counted to have done the Church a kindness, and rendered a service to God.
So the smiting goes on.
The sound of the blows are all over the land. The last few years reveal a vision of blood. Clenched hands are lifted, and fall with sickening thud upon mouths testifying to the truth; and the blood spurts.
What if this is a figure? Which is the more painful, a blow on the face, or private letters, published articles, and public deliverances where ridicule and unjust condemnation abound, and the thing struck at is not the face, but the man’s reputation, influence, standing, work, and happiness. The bruised face will be well in a day or so; but what about the heart and life that have been struck? A cool linen bandage may heal the one; but who can undo the hurt of a written or printed lie? Can the writer himself do it?
Who is willing to undertake such a journey and such a task, where the paper containing the misrepresentation or fabrication has a circulation of from ten thousand to five hundred thousand copies?
This slayer of his brother forgets that God asked Cain where his brother Abel was. This smiter of the Christian testifier forgets that God watches the fall of a sparrow, much more that of a falling hand, whose destination is a mouth that God made, and that is declaring what God, in His glorious power, has done and can do for the soul. He has also forgotten that God is a just God, and that this very fact of Divine justice and judgment will close the windows and doors of heaven upon him, and transform the sky into an impenetrable ceiling of brass. Prayer, like smoke, is driven back into the eyes of such a man, and communion with heaven without repentance becomes impossible.
In a word, this man, under a closed heaven, is now in fine condition to misunderstand, and even be wrathful with a child of God who speaks of open skies, descending doves, and flaming tongues of fire.
So it comes to pass that, look when and where we will, there is a vision of clenched hands, smitten mouths, and spurting blood. Blood is everywhere!
It is an age of blood-flowing, not simply in the military world, where swords and cannon are used, but in the after-history of investigation, where no position of responsibility and prominence will save a man from violent attacks. The vision of blood is in the political world, where one party spends most of its time in belaboring the other. It is in the commercial world, where, with every conceivable art, stratagem, and power, individuals as well as corporations are trying to undo and destroy some real or fancied opponent. It is in the literary world, where criticism is as keen as the blade of the guillotine, and as pitiless and unjust as the men who ran that instrument of death in the Reign of Terror.
When we come to the ecclesiastical world, the Church life, and, closer still, to the Christian life, we would expect and crave to see something different and better. But the vision of blood remains. Angry, clenched hands and crimsoned mouths abound. Religious denominations are still seen firing at each other, and chasing one another, as they do in war.
Two divisions of one great common creed are still debating about how to meet each other with amity and brotherly kindness in their work, and failing to do it. One of these bodies sends a delegate to the other to convey greetings. He does so, and sits down, when, in fifteen minutes, a leading
man on the other side tomahawks and scalps him so quickly and cleverly in a platform reply, that the victim scarcely realizes that he has been slain.
The great warrior sits down, with the scalp of the young chief at his belt, who, covered with blood, has hardly yet comprehended what has been done.
Look at the Church members striking at one another. Hear the stewards talking about one another. Listen to the preachers and evangelists judging, criticizing, and condemning one another. See how the editors of Church papers are forever after one another. It is a vision of blood everywhere! It is a spectacle of cutting and slashing, stabbing and shooting, tomahawking and scalping, gouging and biting, wherever you turn. Doubled fists, smitten mouths streaming with blood, are on all sides. Heenan and Sayers, Sullivan and Kilrain, and Corbett and Fitzsimmons never gave harder and crueler blows in their line than I have seen and heard given in the name of Christ in this so-called Christian land.
We do not allude to warnings of and denunciations against sin that must be delivered from the Church press and pulpit, but to personal attacks, the violent assailing of individuals who love God, and are keeping His commandments.
Listen to some of the words as they fall from the lips of the smiter as he strikes the mouth of one of God’s Spirit-filled servants.
“He is not my style of preacher” — Smash!
“He does not cast out devils like I do. Hit him!” — Smash!
“He believes in the second coming of Christ, and is a visionary. Hit him, somebody — hit him, everybody” — Smash!
“He believes that Christ can heal the body” — Smash!
“He says, he has received the blessing of sanctification as a work clear and distinct from his regeneration. Let everybody strike him!”
— Smash! smash! smash!
“He is a Church-splitter — a crank — a schismatic — an abuser of the Church and his brethren.” Bang — thud — smash!
“Did you hear him?”
“No; but somebody else did.” — Smash!
“Did you investigate the Church-splitting matter, and hear the other side of the case?”
“No; and I don’t want to.” — Bang!
“Would you condemn a man unheard? Is that just, or right, or Christ-like?”
“I haven’t time to talk with you. Hit him there, some one! Strike him again! Knock him down! That’s it! Smash — smash!
Now, drag him down the street like they did Stephen! Beat him as he goes!
Roll him over and over! Thrust him outside the walls! Now finish him!
Bang — thud — smash — smash — smash! Is he dead? Quite dead? All right! Now let us open Conference with the reading of the thirteenth chapter of First Corinthians, or begin divine service by singing the hymn:
“Blest be the tie that binds Our hearts in Christian love;
The fellowship of kindred minds Is like to that above.”