Satan Incognito by A. J. Gordon, D. D.

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Apr 23, 1885

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 11, No. 17.

Satan Incognito.

By A. J. Gordon, D. D.

THE writer of this article has been made the object of not a little cultured laughter for having recently expressed the conviction that there is a personal devil. In a letter to Joseph Cook, read at the Monday lecture, concerning the doctrines of the "Christian scientists," so called, it was charged that they denied not only the personality of God, but the personality and reality of Satan. Whereupon a writer in the Boston Advertiser playfully dwells on "the solemn sadness of the sentence; that it leaves us no personal God and no personal devil;" and is reminded of Theodore Parker's statement that "the orthodox people make the devil the fourth person in the Trinity," etc.

Now we seriously believe that there is a devil, and that he has such sway in our city, visible and invisible, as to well-nigh justify the quotation of an aged country minister recently addressed to us in a letter—"I know where thou dwellest, even where Satan's seat is." To prove his existence it is only necessary to open the Scriptures and read their ample testimony; but presuming that our critics are not up in the teaching of the Bible, we desire to take the method of Saul at Athens, "as certain also of your own poets have said," and to quote the vigorous words of an eminent literary man upon this point.

In an article on Thomas Carlyle, Mr. Henry James rehearses a conversation heard at his house in London one Sunday evening. An American general was talking with Carlyle of repudiation in Mississippi, when the grim old philosopher broke out, "You are all on your way to the devil in America." "Talking with Mrs. Carlyle at just that moment," says Mr. James, "was Mr. Henry Woodman—I will call him—from Massachusetts, who, in former times, was a Unitarian clergyman in good standing; but having made what seemed to him a notable discovery, namely, that there is no personal devil, he forthwith snaps his fingers at the faded terror, drops his profession, and betakes himself to agriculture." Pricking up his ears at Carlyle's utterance, he said, "What devil do you speak of, Mr. Carlyle?" "What devil, do you ask?" Carlyle fairly roared back in reply, "What devil, do you ask, Mr. Woodman? The devil, Mr. Woodman, which has been known in these parts from the beginning, and is not likely soon to become unknown—the father of all liars, swindlers, and repudiators, Mr. Woodman? The devil that in this Old World boasts a very numerous though unconscious progeny, and in your New World, Mr. Woodman, seems, from all accounts, to be producing a still more numerous and still more unconscious one! That is just the devil I mean, Mr. Woodman, and woe be to you and yours the day you vote him lifeless!"

Here is vigorous preaching, which shows that the iron of Scotch Presbyterianism had not entirely worked itself out of Carlyle's blood. And the setting of the sermon is very suggestive, too. Our Massachusetts Unitarian abandoned his profession when he discovered that Satan is a myth. That is quite generally the case. The shallow optimism which sees no evil in the world leads to the most nerveless and effeminate preaching—a preaching that inevitably dies of its own inanity. Jesus Christ was manifested "that he might destroy the works of the devil." He took part in our human nature "that through death he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil." When a minister has come to deny the existence of the evil one, he invariably drops from vigorous and determined preaching into a soft pulpit sentimentalism, and in many instances drops out of his work entirely.

Paul and Luther were great fighters because they measured their foe. Their confession was, "For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places." In the presence of such enemies all their powers were taxed and all their resources drawn forth. The man who denies the fact of a personal devil is rarely good for much as a soldier of Christ. He may carry on a sham fight; he may execute the tournament of a theological carpet-knight, but he will deal no sturdy blows at God's enemies.

As for Mr. Carlyle's saying about the devil's "numerous though unconscious progeny" in the New World, O sage of Chelsea, how could you have dealt such an ungracious blow at those in this New World who have recently garnished your sepulcher with all manner of high encomiums? Did you never hear that their creed is that all men are the sons of God? And you have joined in with him who spoke with authority and said of certain, "Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do."

And yet they know not their father, and he is well pleased thereat. "The greatest intellectual triumph that can be achieved by the devil is gained when men are prepared to believe that he is not," says an old writer. Not to be known by those whom he knows and influences is his deepest purpose. He walks to and fro through the earth seeking whom he may destroy, but so far as possible, he travels incognito. He has invented a creed which he would be glad to have recited in all the churches. That creed contains no denial of God; he can effect more for the present by fostering a denial of himself. This creed we have seen lately formulated: "There is no personal devil. That which is mystically called the devil is the negation and opposite of God. And whereas God is I AM, or positive Being, the devil is not."

And subscription to this creed is rapidly going on in liberal churches and rationalistic journals. Here is what one of these organs of advanced thought has recently put forth: "Our mission is to teach men to live without the fear of God; to die without the fear of the devil; and to attain salvation without the blood of Christ." A consistent trinity of doctrines! If there is no devil and no work of the devil, Christ's mission "to destroy the works of the devil" and "to destroy him that hath the power of death, that is, the devil," was in vain. Verily the Chelsea philosopher spoke truly when he talked about the devil's "unconscious progeny," and when he said very vehemently, "Woe be to you and yours, the day you vote him lifeless."