THE THIRD ANGEL'S MESSAGE.
The Place of Sunday Legislation in the Making of the Beast.
In the union of Church and State in the Roman Empire, in the making of the papacy, the kingdom of God was held to have come. But that kingdom was a kingdom of this world, dependent solely upon worldly means for its existence. The only power known to the kingdoms of this world is force. In established governments this force is exerted through law, enforced by pains and penalties. And we have seen that in this new kingdom of God it was by means of the Sunday laws and the power of the State that those who dwelt on the earth were rendered “fit subjects” of this kingdom of God. At every step in the course of the apostasy, at every step taken in adopting the forms of sun-worship, as well as against the adoption and the observance of Sunday itself, there had been constant protest by all real Christians. Those who remained faithful to Christ and to the truth of the pure word of God, observed the Sabbath of the Lord according to the commandment, and according to the word of God which sets forth the Sabbath as the sign by which the Lord, the Creator of the heavens and the earth, is distinguished from all other gods. These accordingly protested against every phase and form of sun-worship. Others compromised, especially in the East, by observing both Sabbath and Sunday. But in the West, under Roman influences and under the leadership of the Church and the bishopric of Rome, Sunday alone was adopted and observed. Against this Church-and-State intrigue throughout, there had been also, as against every other step in the course of the apostasy, earnest protest by all real Christians. But when it came to the point where the Church would enforce by the power of the State the observance of Sunday, this protest became stronger than ever. And additional strength was given to the protest at this point by the fact that it was urged in the words of the very arguments which the Catholic Church had used when she was antagonized, rather than courted, by the imperial authority. This, with the strength of the argument upon the merit of the question as to the day which should be observed, greatly weakened the force of the Sunday law. But when, in addition to these considerations, the exemption was so broad as to allow all who dwelt “in the country, freely and at full liberty” to pursue their regular avocations on Sunday, and when those who observed the Sabbath disregarded the Sunday law, its effect was largely nullified. Since any disrespect to Sunday, or any weakening of its standing would, in the nature of things, hinder people from attaining to the place of “fit subjects” of this “kingdom of God,” it became necessary for the Church to secure legislation extinguishing all exemption, and prohibiting the observance of the Sabbath, so as to quench that powerful protest of the Sabbath-keepers. And now, coupled with the necessity of the situation, the “truly divine command” of Constantine and the Council of Nice, that “nothing” should be held “in common with the Jews,” was made the basis and the authority for legislation utterly to crush out the observance of the Sabbath of the Lord, and to establish the observance of Sunday only, in its stead. Accordingly, the Council of Laodicea enacted the following canon:— CANON 29.— Christians shall not Judaize and be idle on Saturday [“Sabbath,” in both Greek and Latin], but shall work on that day; but the Lord’s day they shall especially honor, and, as being Christians, shall, if possible, do no work on that day. If, however, they are found Judaizing, they shall be shut out [“accursed,” Greek and Latin] from Christ.— Hefele, “History of the Church Councils,” Laodicea. The report of the proceedings of the Council of Laodicea is not dated. A variety of dates has been suggested, of which A. D. 364 seems to have been the most favored. Hefele allows that it may have been as late as 380. But whatever the date, before A. D. 380, in the political condition of the empire this could not be made effective by imperial law. In 375 the emperor Valentinian died, and was succeeded by his two sons, one aged sixteen, the other four years. In 378 Theodosius, a Spanish soldier, became emperor of the East. In 380 he was baptized into the Catholic Church; and immediately an edict was issued in the name of the three emperors, commanding all subjects of the empire, of whatever party or name, to adopt the faith of the Catholic Church, and assume the name of “Catholic Christians.” As now “the State itself recognized the Church as such, and endeavored to uphold her in the prosecution of her principles and the attainment of her ends” (Neander); and as Theodosius had already ordered that all his subjects “should steadfastly adhere to the religion which was taught by St. Peter to the Romans, which faithful tradition” had preserved, and which was then “professed by the pontiff Damasus,” of Rome, and had now ordered that they should all “assume the title of Catholic Christians,” it was easy to bring the imperial power to the support of the decrees of the Church, and make the Laodicean canon effective. Now was given the opportunity for which the Church had waited so long, and she made use of it. At the earliest possible moment she secured the desired law; for, “by a law of the year 386, those older changes effected by the emperor Constantine were more rigorously enforced; and, in general, civil transactions of every kind on Sunday were strictly forbidden. Whoever transgressed was to be considered, in fact, as guilty of sacrilege.”— Neander. As the direct result of this law, there soon appeared an evil which, under the circumstances and in the logic of the case, called for further legislation in the same direction. The law forbade all work. But as the people had not such religion as would cause them to devote the day to pious and moral exercises, the effect of the law was only to enforce idleness. Enforced idleness only multiplied opportunity for dissipation. The natural consequence was that the circuses, the theaters, and other places of dissipation throughout the empire were crowded every Sunday. The object of the Sunday law, from the first one that was issued, was that the day might be used for the purposes of devotion, and that the people might go to church. But they had not sufficient religion to lead them to church when there was opportunity for amusement. Therefore, “owing to the prevailing passion at that time, especially in the large cities, to run after the various public shows, it so happened that when these spectacles fell on the same days which had been consecrated by the Church to some religious festival, they proved a great hindrance to the devotion of Christians, though chiefly, it must be allowed, to those whose Christianity was the least an affair of the life and of the heart. Church teachers . . . were, in truth, often forced to complain that in such competition the theater was vastly more frequented than the church.”— Neander. And the Church was now in a condition in which she could not bear competition. She must have a monopoly. Therefore the next step to be taken, the logical one, too, was to have the circuses and theaters closed on Sundays and other special Church days, so that the churches and the theaters should not be open at the same time. There was another feature of the case which gave the bishops the opportunity to make their new demands appear plausible, by urging in another form the selfish and sophistical plea upon which they had asked for the first edict respecting Church days. In the circuses and the theaters, large numbers of men were employed, among whom many were church-members. But, rather than give up their places, the church-members would work on Sunday. The bishops complained that these were “compelled to work,” and were “prohibited to worship;” they pronounced it “persecution,” and demanded more Sunday laws for “protection.” As a consequence, therefore, and in the logic of the situation, at a council held at Carthage, in June, A. D. 401, the following canon was enacted:— CANON 5.— On Sundays and feast-days no plays may be performed. That this canon might be made effective, the bishops in the same council passed a resolution, and sent up a petition to the emperor Honorius, praying “that the public shows might be transferred from the Christian Sunday and from feast-days, to some other days of the week.”— Neander. The reason given in support of the petition was not only, as already stated, that those who worked in government offices and employments at such times, were persecuted, but that “the people congregate more to the circus than to the church.”— Id. In the logic of this theory, there was one more step to be taken. To see how logically it came about, let us glance at the steps taken from the first one up to this point: First, the Church had all work on Sunday forbidden, in order that the people might worship. But the people would not worship; they went to the circus and the theater instead of to church. Then the Church had laws enacted closing the circuses and the theaters, in order that the people might attend church. But even then the people would not be devoted, nor attend church; for they had no real religion. The next step to be taken, therefore, in the logic of the situation, was to compel them to be devoted—to compel them to attend to things divine. This was the next step logically to be taken, and it was taken. The theocratical bishops were equal to the occasion. They were ready with a theory that exactly met the demands of the case, and one of the greatest of the Catholic Church Fathers and Catholic saints was the father of the theory, thus:— It is, indeed, better that men should be brought to serve God by instruction than by fear of punishment or by pain. But because the former means are better, the latter must not therefore be neglected. . . . Many must often be brought back to their Lord, like wicked servants, by the rod of temporal suffering, before they attain the highest grade of religious development.— Augustine.
Of this theory, the author who, of all the Church historians, has best exposed the evil workings of this false theocracy, justly observes that “it was by Augustine, then, that a theory was proposed and founded, which . . . contained the germ of that whole system of spiritual despotism of intolerance and persecution which ended in the tribunals of the Inquisition.”— Neander. The history of the Inquisition is only the history of this theory of Augustine’s. But this theory is only the logical sequence of the theory upon which the whole series of Sunday laws was founded. In closing his history of this particular subject, Neander says, “IN THIS WAY THE CHURCH RECEIVED HELP FROM THE STATE FOR THE FURTHERANCE OF HER ENDS.” This statement is correct. Constantine did many things to favor the bishops. He gave them money and political preference. He made their decisions in disputed cases final, as the decision of Jesus Christ. But in nothing that he did for them did he give them power over those who did not belong to the Church, to compel them to act as if they did, except in the one thing of the Sunday law. In the Sunday law, power was given to the Church to compel those who did not belong to the Church, and who were not subject to the jurisdiction of the Church, to obey the commands of the Church. In the Sunday law there was given to the Church control of the civil power, so that by it she could compel those who did not belong to the Church to act as if they did: so that thus they might be more “fit subjects” of that false kingdom of God. The history of377Constantine’s time may be searched through and through, and it will be found that in nothing did he give to the Church any such power, except in this one thing—the Sunday law. Neander’s statement is literally correct, that it was “in this way the Church received help from the State for the furtherance of her ends.” That this may be set before the reader in as clear a light as possible, we shall here summarize the facts stated by Neander, in their direct bearing. He says of the carrying into effect of the theocratical theory of the apostate bishops, that they made themselves dependent upon Constantine, by their disputes, and “by their determination to use the power of the State for the furtherance of their aims.” Then he mentions the first and second Sunday laws of Constantine; the Sunday law of A. D. 386; the Carthaginian Council, resolution, and petition of 401; and the law of A. D. 425, in response to this petition; and then, without a break, and with direct reference to these Sunday laws, he says: “In this way the Church received help from the State for the furtherance of her ends.” She started out with the determination to do it: she did it; and “IN THIS WAY” she did it. And when she had secured control of the power of the State, she used it for the furtherance of her own aims, and that in her own despotic way, as announced in the inquisitorial theory of Augustine. The first step logically led to the last. And the theocratical leaders in the movement had the cruel courage to follow the first step unto the last, as framed in the words of Augustine, and illustrated in the horrors of the Inquisition during the fearful record of the dreary ages in which the bishopric of Rome was supreme over kings and nations. Thus was made the Beast. Thus was Sunday legislation the chief means, the very key, in the making of the Beast. And before the eyes of all people to-day Sunday legislation is being employed in the same way precisely, which is nothing else, and can not possibly be anything else, than the making of the image of the Beast. In a word, the Beast signifies attainment to righteousness, to salvation, and to the kingdom of God, by force,—by law and works of the flesh; and Sunday is the sign of it.