Hatred of Sin, a Characteristic of True Religion.
By George I. Butler
THERE IS a phase of sentiment connected with the religion of this age which should be regarded as not only wrong in tendency, but actually dangerous in its results, and which threatens to affect all classes of professed Christians. It calls itself by the holy name of charity, but is very far from being the genuine article. It is rather an excusing of sin, easy, good-natured toleration of iniquity, as something inherent in poor humanity that is rather to be excused as a thing not so very bad after all, seeing it is so common, rather than to be confessed, repented of, and hated, and finally overcome. There is everywhere to be seen, in this age, a confounding of good and evil, a placing of them on a sort of equality. Commencing with the spiritualistic philosophy, that evil is but undeveloped good, which, no doubt, Satan hopes to see generally accepted, for then there will be no limit to wickedness, it runs through many forms and manifestations, till the close observer may see modifications of the sentiment in those who frequent the house of God and claim to be disciples of the Prince of Peace. There is great danger that we have in our minds a wrong conception of the nature of sin. The transgression of God's law, which sin is defined to be, is evil and only evil. It makes no one better, but worse. It is not productive of real happiness, however much it may seem to be, but only of misery, in the end. All the wretchedness, sorrow, and agony, the world has ever seen, or ever will see, has come from this one root. Evil puts on many seductive airs, and may appear, for the time being, as the very angel of peace, but it is only delusive. The sting of disappointment is sure to pain us in the end. And one reason why sin is such a terrible thing to be dreaded is, because it is so seductive and deceptive. This makes it no better, but much worse. An enemy that we could always recognize as such, would not be so much to be dreaded as one who seemed to be a friend, but who would inflict upon us a mortal stroke when we were least expecting it. So of sin. Of the millions who will go down to endless death, there will be but few who have not been deceived by sin in some of its forms; and yet there were times when every one of them knew they were following sin instead of righteousness. But sin brings blindness with it as a sure result. God, who sees all things with perfect clearness, and perceives the least variation from the path of strict rectitude, knows the nature and consequences of sin in all its transformations, and in all its dire results, ever recognizes it as an enemy to his government, destructive of the best interests of his creatures, and the primal cause of all woe and wretchedness. The goodness of his nature abhors it. He cannot look upon it with allowance, as a thing to be tolerated or excused. Upon its first appearance in Heaven, in Satan's revolt, he hesitated not to cast him and his followers out of that holy abode, though in so doing, associations of long standing were broken up, and a third part of the angels of God were cast down to regions of darkness, to be held in chains, and then destroyed. What an illustration this is of God's abhorrence of sin! Satan, the “anointed cherub that covereth,” next in rank to the Son of God; one who dwelt in the special presence of the Creator of the universe, a most glorious, beautiful, and exalted personage, endowed with corresponding excellence of mind, sinned, without excuse. Owing to his influence, and the regard in which he was held, a large number of the angelic host united with him. Their high exaltation did not make their sin better, but rather made it more aggravated. They had enjoyed great light, being God's special agents, and being familiar with the principles of his government. Therefore they were without excuse. God could not tolerate sin in such beings, and permit them to continue in his special presence, in his chosen abode. The moment of separation approaches. Who knows the ages of association which had previously existed in the “family of God?” The love and esteem the angels had had for each other, where there had been no sin to mar,45or curse to imbitter, their existence, must have been inconceivably higher than anything which selfish, earthly beings have ever experienced. High Heaven had resounded with their united praises to the great King. Ministrations of duty they had lovingly fulfilled together. No suspicion, jealousy, envy, hatred, or any of these baleful fruits of sin, had ever been among them to destroy confidence and union. Love was the ruling principle, ever present in its sweetness and fullness, in all hearts. God had made these beings to fill their exalted positions. They were his ministers, to do his pleasure. They had faithfully executed his high commands, who knows for how many ages? From the love of God to the fallen, rebellious race of man, sunk in degradation, we have a right to argue his love for these higher and more exalted beings, created to dwell in his special presence. If he has so loved the world as to give his only Son to die, and borne with their rebellions so many weary ages, would he not love these exalted beings who had dwelt so long in his own presence? Most assuredly. They had manifested traits of character, previous to their fall, infinitely more worthy of regard than man has shown. But sin enters, and Satan and his followers are forced to leave that abode, never more to enter it, never more to enjoy peace, never more to work in union with their former loving associates, but to suffer pangs and anguish, and finally utter destruction. Who can estimate the feelings of that heavenly host as that separation took place? Did it not occasion pain and intense sorrow in the hearts of the good and faithful, who retained their allegiance to God? And the fact that a third part of these angels followed Satan, instead of being faithful to God, shows the hold that Satan had upon his associates, which must have been felt by those who remained, as well as by those who left. It shows the power of false sympathy also, a power which will be the cause of the destruction of myriads of men, as well as these angels. Did God make a mistake in this step, in driving out the rebellious host? Would it have been better for them to have remained in Heaven? Who dares to say it? No, the God of the universe does right. He could not consistently give them another probation; their light and knowledge were too great to give them any right to it. Far different was their case, in this respect, from that of our first parents. They had entirely forfeited their rights and blessings, because of sin committed while enjoying such light. But that God should break up such associations, under such circumstances, when such consequences would follow, shows most forcibly his hatred of sin. Better that the inmates of Heaven should be driven out and utterly destroyed, than that sin should reign there. Peace would come at last, through the former course, while it never could through the latter. No real peace can ever come where sin is tolerated. Religion of the genuine kind is but the carrying out of the principles of Heaven. Every person who truly exemplifies true religion will look at sin as God does. The law of God will be his rule of action; the transgression of it he will abhor. Sin is such transgression; therefore he will abhor it. It is because of this that the minister of Christ is called upon to reprove and rebuke sin. “Preach the word, be instant in season, out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort with all long-suffering and doctrine.” “Them that sin, rebuke before all, that others may fear.” These duties are much neglected in this age. The men are few who dare to call sin by its right name, lest it hurt somebody's feelings. It is far more pleasant to let damning sins pass along unnoticed, or to speak of them to third parties, than to take them up, and speak of them as they deserve. This might hurt some one's feelings, and the individual thus taking up these things would be very apt to lose the good opinion of the parties sinning, and of their friends, as well as of that large class of easy, good-natured, kind-hearted, peace-loving souls, who would far rather see sin tolerated, even if it grieves the Spirit of God away, and souls are ruined eternally, than to have some one's feelings hurt. But what seems most to be deplored is, that this toleration of sin goes under the name of holy Christian charity, and honest souls are misled by this perversion of terms. And what is gospel charity? One prominent characteristic of it is that it “rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth.” The “wisdom that cometh from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, easy to be entreated,” &c. This wisdom and this charity no more excuses sin or shields it, than God did when it was seen in the third part of Heaven's sons. It has no fellowship with it. It sets it forth in its true deformity. It denounces it in righteous terms of holy indignation. These apologists for sin are very apt to quote our loving Saviour as their example in this course. They are very apt to take their quotations from words of his addressed to the weary, sorrowing, despised, or suffering. They make a wrong application entirely. Of all who have ever lived, none can be found who have dealt out such terrible denunciations of sin and sinners as this same loving Jesus, the friend of the poor and needy. Hear his address to the Pharisees, the proudest and most popular religionists of that age: “Ye blind guides, which strain at a gnat and swallow a camel. Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye make clean the outside of the cup and of the platter, but within they are full of extortion and excess. Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites, for ye are like unto whited sepulchers, which indeed appear beautiful outward, but are within full of dead men's bones and of all uncleanness. Even so ye outwardly appear righteous unto men, but within, ye are full of hypocrisy and iniquity. Fill ye up the measures of your fathers. Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers: how can ye escape the damnation of hell?” He spoke thus because it was the truth. He did it when he knew that hatred and bitterness toward him would be the result, which would bring about his own death. This loving Saviour took a scourge of small cords and drove them out of the temple, because they had no business there. He denounced the fearful doom of unquenchable fire and the undying worm, where weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth, would be experienced, upon every one who did not turn from sin. He said to his foremost apostle, “Get thee behind me, Satan: thou art an offense unto me: for thou savorest not the things that be of God, but those that be of men,” because he had misconceived the object of the Lord's mission. This conception of our Saviour as a sort of lax, easy apologist and tolerator of sin, who would overlook iniquity and pass along about as much in harmony with pride and wrong as with righteousness and humility, carrying the idea that good, bad, and indifferent, would come about alike, plastering over wickedness with a little goody-talk, is utterly wrong, an entire misconception of our divine Lord. His was none of your lax, easy-going, milk-and-water characters. He called things by their right names, whatever feelings might be engendered, or if death was to be the consequence. And so of his most intimate followers, when filled with his Spirit. Peter could tell the Jews and their rulers to their faces, regardless of consequences, that they had murdered the Son of God. He stripped the covering of hypocrisy and deceit from Ananias and Sapphira, though it caused a fearful scene, and both of them were taken out of the room dead corpses. Paul could tell Elymas to his face, “O, full of all subtility and all mischief; thou child of the devil; thou enemy of all righteousness; wilt thou not cease to pervert the right ways of the Lord?” And he could rebuke Peter, the first of the apostles, because he did wrong. This spirit of directness has always characterized true religion. Human feelings may be wounded, but right will be vindicated. No doubt somebody's feelings were hurt, when one third of the angels were cast out of Heaven. They have not been healed yet, and will not be till Satan and all his host are buried in the burning lake. The great lack with nominal religion, to-day, the world over, is that there is no faithfulness in reproving sin. Should things be called by their right names with the directness of Jesus and his apostles, by the professed representatives of Christ in the pulpit, what would become of the fashionable audiences who gather to listen to our modern pulpit oratory? We should expect to see a “fearful scattering.” Ministers dare not risk their reputations and salaries by telling the whole truth. They preach against drunkenness, and many of the grosser sins; but pride, love of the world, the indulgence of the appetite, and especially personal sins, known to exist plentifully among their members, are not touched. A compromise is made with sin for the sake of personal feelings. A very pretty state of things exists on the outside; but it may well be believed that the inside of the cup and platter needs cleansing as really as it did in the Saviour's time. We, as a people, are in great danger on this very point. The straight testimony against sin is not in vogue as it should be. To tell the truth, those who have borne it in the past, most pointedly, have had a grievously hard time of it, worn themselves out prematurely, and got distrust and even hatred, instead of thanks, for their faithfulness; while those who would let iniquity pass along unnoticed, have won golden opinions as being the finest representatives of the Spirit of Christ. A spirit of compromise with sin has been manifested by many of our people in the past, which, had Heaven been their theater of action when Satan's great revolt took place, and they been filling the chair of Deity, they would have divided the universe with the devil, and perpetuated sin to all eternity, or even surrendered the throne of Heaven, rather than to hurt the feelings of him and his associates. And this spirit goes under the name of goodness and Christian charity. It has been seen in our public institutions till the cause has been threatened with moral leprosy. It is an easy-going spirit. Abuses are tolerated. Wrongs and unfaithfulness go unreproved. The Lord's money, given for sacred purposes, has been in some cases uselessly expended; and the salvation of precious souls has been hazarded, not to say destroyed, by it. Our experience, for years in the past, ought to teach us a lesson in regard to these things which should last us through to the end. The Scripture points those living in the last days back to ancient Israel in the wilderness, as the example and warning most proper to consider. This spirit of toleration of sin is seen to a great extent in our churches. There are very few of these where the Bible standard of discipline is carried out, or where real, faithful admonitions and reproofs are given. Things generally run at loose ends. Any way to get along without having a fuss. Anything to preserve a sort of patched-up peace, and save people's feelings. For my part, I had rather see a storm raised that may threaten to burst things all to pieces, now and then, for the purpose of supporting principles of righteousness, than this dead calm of lifelessness, brought about by tolerating wrong, till the Spirit of God takes its flight. As the thunder-storm clears the natural heavens, so a moral storm gives a better atmosphere. I confess, I should feel a sense of relief if something would come along and shake us, as a people, out of our placid, do-nothing condition, which seems to be closing around so many. It will come, I feel sure. But I tremble for many, lest their sympathies will be found on the side of easy-going toleration of wrong, instead of with those who stand up squarely for righteousness. The present age is sadly in need of square-edged men and women, who love righteousness and hate iniquity. We have reached the time when God's servants should “cry aloud and spare not, and show my people their transgressions, and the house of Jacob their sins.” We need more backbone, more nerve. We are in terrible danger of drifting along, like a helpless stick, with the current. The current of this world is surely going downward to ruin. “Come out from among them and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and I will receive you.” Who is going to do it? There is a terrible lack in the families of Sabbath-keepers. But few families are seen, now-a-days, where there is any real family government. The spirit of Eli is abroad in the land. He said to his children, “Why do ye so wickedly?” but did not take hold and decidedly restrain them. There might have been some trouble, perhaps, if he had—somebody's feelings might have been hurt. There might have been a family scene. So he, a priest of the most high God, could let his children bring the worship of the sanctuary into contempt, and cast an influence which would ruin souls eternally. And no doubt Eli passed for a very good, tender-spirited man. He felt bad to see such work going on. He expostulated; he plead. He did more than a great many professors of religion do in these days, who do not even say anything, when they see iniquity in their own households, lest there shall be trouble. But God held him to an account for not doing more. “Because his sons made themselves vile and he restrained them not, therefore I have sworn unto the house of Eli, that the iniquity of Eli's house shall not be purged with sacrifice nor offering forever.” Israel fled from their enemies; these sons died under the hand of God's judgments; Eli himself fell dead, and the ark of God went into captivity, because of this weakness in passing over sin. God is the same to-day. Sin is just as hateful in the family relation as ever it was. And there are plenty of Elis in our churches, who pass over sin as easily as he did. But we may depend upon it, we shall have to give account for these things in the day of Judgment. In my soul, I believe there is more real injury done to the cause of truth by this weak excusing of sin, passing over it for fear some body will get hurt, if we do anything about it, and thus perpetuating it in the church and family, than there is by all the bitter opposition the truth has to meet from every quarter. God's Spirit is grieved away. The standard is lowered down. We purchase a deceptive peace by this goody kind of a spirit which passes for Christian charity but which is any thing but that; and as the result, a sort of moral leprosy clings to us, life and zeal die out, and we find ourselves drifting largely with the worldly current around us; and we wonder why we have no more religion. Everything takes a kind of a low tone. To be sure, the world looks upon us more favorably. And why should they not; we grow more and more like them. Our course is not a rebuke to them. There will be a different spirit seen before this work moves with power. We must not put sin on a level with righteousness, and we must guard our sympathies from upholding, by our influence, those plainly in the wrong. We must cultivate moral principle, love righteousness, and hate iniquity wherever it is seen, and, most of all, when it is in our own midst. Then, it is not only an evil thing in itself, but its influence hinders the progress of God's work. Let us then be faithful to reprove sin, and cast our influence against it, wherever it is seen. Mt. Pleasant, Iowa, July 10, 1873.