Receiving the Truth by CARRIE B. BAILEY

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Jan 23, 1913

Receiving the Truth

By CARRIE B. BAILEY

CARRIE B. BAILEY

The occasion was an outing. The talk had drifted to religious subjects, and an acquaintance had remarked, “Have you been to those tent-meetings down on M— Street? The people holding them keep Saturday instead of Sunday.” “They are Jews?” “No.” “Keep Saturday, and not Jews! Why is that?” “Because they believe the Bible teaches it.” “Well, that is very strange; I should like to know just why they do that. I am going to hear them.”

And I went. They were not foreigners, as was to be expected from followers of such peculiar doctrine; for who had ever heard of such a thing in this country? In spite of the feeling of pity which possessed me,—pity that they should waste their time on such error,—I could but admire them for their respectable appearance and evident intelligence.

It was very near the close of a series of lectures. That probably accounts for the fact that the idea that the faithful, in some very happy place of reward, would grow up to a stature beyond that of mortals of the present age, was unintelligible to me. But the solemnity of one song left its impression, the first I ever heard sung by Seventh-day Adventists:—

“In the glad time of the harvest, In the grand millennial year, When the King shall take his scepter, And to judge the world appear, Earth and sea shall yield their treasure, All shall stand before the throne; Just awards will then be given, When the King shall claim his own.”

Lack of time prevented another visit. But very soon afterward my brother came home with the information that a large tent was being pitched on a lot near by. Instantly came the thought, Those people again! “Are there any small tents?” “Yes.” “They surely are the same people; now I shall know why.”

Later in the day investigation brought the inquirer face to face with a large bulletin-board announcing that a lecture would be given that evening on Daniel 2. How that lecture was enjoyed! How plain! How full of fascination was the thought that the Word of God contained prophecies bringing us down to the very end of time! Yet how very, very strange that in years of attendance at Sunday-school and church no such teachings had been received. There would be a talk on the seventh chapter of Daniel the next night. Surely it would be worth hearing. Again I went, and there was no disappointment in store.

Night after night the audience was given an insight into what had hitherto been mysteries. At first some of those “unorthodox” ideas seemed almost unbelievable; but sober thought convinced of their correctness. Everything became plainer and plainer, and the Bible was a new book.

Once in the Sunday-school class I had questioned somewhat after this manner: “If at death one goes either to heaven or to the place of torment, why should Christ have raised any to life? Why should the widow’s son have been called from the reward of the righteous to a life again on earth? Or why should he be separated from punishment with the wicked, to have another probation here?” The teacher had replied, “It must be that on restoring him to life, Christ took from him all knowledge of his enjoyment or suffering after death.” Now I knew the teaching of Scripture as to the state of the dead. It had always seemed inexplicable, too, that the Jews—God’s own chosen people, to whom he had given his law—should, after so many centuries, still be observing the sunset-to-sunset seventh-day Sabbath. But those tent lectures threw light on that subject.

The things presented were so wonderful that not one talk must be missed. Even on Wednesday nights I must hear just as much as possible, allowing barely enough time to reach the meeting-place of our loved secret order, and fulfil my duties there as an officer.

Then there was that never-to-be-forgotten stormy evening—the disappointment on arrival of finding that no others had ventured out. But there were the minister and his wife, and an invitation was extended to enter one of the small tents. Questions were asked and answered. The conversation was a profitable one, and a soul was one step nearer the kingdom, although not realizing it.

An invitation to attend the Sabbath-school and church was accepted. The day I chose to go proved to be the Sabbath of the quarterly service. How strange to see the ordinance of humility performed! and yet how impressive! But I could never bring myself to take part in it.

Although assenting to the truth of the things heard, I did not look forward to see where they might lead, and it was not until the closing night of the meetings that I saw clearly that they had a binding force. Yet I did not then respond to the call to unite with those who observed the Sabbath of the Bible and believed in the near coming of their Redeemer. But on reaching home, the question was weighed. Back and forth traveled the balance between the world and truth, between duty and the inconvenience and unpopularity of being connected with a sect so out of harmony with all others. But I thank God that the passing of that one almost-sleepless night found me determined to link myself with him and his Word, to obey even in so peculiar a matter as the keeping of the seventh day. A few days later, with fourteen others, I received the rite of baptism at the hands of the one who so untiringly had labored to make plain the Word of God.