p. 611 | THE LAST APOSTASY

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Oct 14, 1889

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 15, No. 39.

THE LAST APOSTASY.

THE WEDDING OF CHURCH AND STATE.—AN ALLEGORY.

(Continued.)

"YES, but they shall be Christians. Give us law, and we'll compel men to religious faith. Give us this ring, delayed by profitless talk, and put the Church in power. Our remedy for all malefic influences, is to have our government simply set up the moral law and recognize God's authority behind it, and lay its hand on any religion that does not conform to it. Let those who oppose our government and its Christian features, go to some wild, desolate land, and in the devil's name, and for his sake, set up a government on infidel and atheistic grounds, and stay there till they die. Atheism and Christianity are incompatible systems. They cannot dwell together on the same continent.

"Work, noble men, reformers in our land. Let this fair ring be made; for through it comes religion for the State, and that Christianity, excluding others. Let Church and State be married in our land, and so a noble progeny be born to bear the world new hopes until the millennium dawn, Christ's kingdom come."

Then rose a tall dissenter in the hall. "Hold, for a moment. How shall men decide what is the Christian code for such a law, since hundreds claim the name with diverse creeds?"

"Oh, that is easy," said a smooth divine, "as finding the common multiple of numbers. Call all the clergy of the different faiths, and let them fix a creed of doctrines, common to all, and let that creed be taught in all our land."

"But that brings to my mind a day of old, when Constantine, the pagan-Christian, called a general council, made a creed, and bound men down in mind and heart to mortal, narrow ruts. It brings back Nice, Laodicea, and all the horrid train that follows Church and State; when worldly bishops set themselves to fawn and smile, and woo and win the State to serve their ends. The word of God in language plain and terse, declares that friendship with the world is enmity to him, and makes the Church a harlot. You may have your common faith of all men's creeds, to suit all classes as you think; but suppose it would prove too common for my common sense, and my devout convictions? Suppose a mean minority of men could not agree with all your reverend cloth, and would not stoop an inch of manhood down to take your yoke of bondage? Aye, what then?"

The clergy's face grew red and white by turns. He showed his white teeth in a smile of scorn. "The poor fool on the track may well fear trouble when he hears the train, and will not stand aside. He well deserves the fate he gets, if hearing the thundering roar, the shrieking whistle, he does not clear the track. You have my answer. 'Tis better that one should die, than a whole nation perish."

"This sounds," said the dissenter, "like the words once heard in Judea, when Christ stood arraigned a malefactor before time-serving Pilate and the rabble, when cruel Caiaphas, the high priest, gave counsel."

A murmur rose then through the people's hall, a hiss of deprecation and of scorn.

Then came a fair-famed lady to the stand. A hush was on the people, for she had risen as one who'd avenge the direful wrong of rum. In humble days before, upon her knees in the crusade, she'd pleaded for God, and home, and native land. Her prayers had risen past the rumseller's face, and beat to heaven on wings of hope and faith,—a noble woman and greatly to be praised. She had seen evils, bearing hydro-heads against her weakness, seen direful curse untold that women's tears could not drench out, and moans swelled so, they rose above the singing of her hymns. But God was hers. He waited calm in heaven, and he had said, "Vengeance is mine. Work on."

But did some vicious spirit defeat his charge? For weary with watching at the foemen's forts, weary with guarding the conquests she had gained, she left the field and sought the halls of Cæsar, petitioning not for prohibition of its enemy rum, a civil nuisance that Cæsar might quell, a wild, barbarian rioter that warred against life, chastity, honor, home; but for a law to bind him one day, and make him act the saint, then let him loose for six days to undo the good she had striven to gain.

She stood and pleaded for the wedding ring, pleaded for theocratic government, and union of Church and State. She said, "A true theocracy is yet to come, and the enthronement of Christ in law and law-makers. We have one vital, organic thought, one all absorbing purpose, one undying enthusiasm, and that is, that Christ shall be this world's king; yea, verily, this world's king. The kingdom

of Christ must enter the realm of law through the gateway of politics."

Both Church and Cæsar were warmly drawn to her, through her fine eloquence and subtle thought. "Ah!" said the Church, "I see my fears were vain. Christ could not surely have meant it when he said, 'My kingdom's not of this world;' for she has emphasized, 'Yea, verily, this world's king.'"

"Yes," said Cæsar, "and we as delegates of his own power, shall rule as God on earth. That is not more than has been claimed before. The pope has done this long, and now I see the good philosophy and logic of it. It must be so where Church and Cæsar unite."

Again the tall dissenter rose to speak. "But there are men, good citizens, too, who acknowledge not Christ as king, or his authority as governing them. How then will such be citizens with you?"

"They shall not be," exclaimed another. "Either they'll have this man to reign o'er them, or, like the wicked servants, shall be slain. But we'll not treat them rashly. We'll persuade, ere punishing. As one has said, 'It is indeed better that men should be brought to serve God by instruction than by fear of punishment; 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 to the highest grade of religious development.'"

Then the dissenter flamed. He said he saw in that old saying of ages past, repeated here in this day of greater light, the dark foreshadowing of a darker day than yet has been. He pleaded for right, for all men's right to think, to live, to act with liberty. He said they were blind men led by the blind, and making for a ditch of ruinous depth, that reached down to the pit. He said they would cut off their God-given power, as rich men crowned with liberty, to change their mind and act accordingly, if this false match was made. He bade the people fear to make the ring that united Church and Cæsar, to fear to vote to undo a righteous constitution with inconsistent law.

He said, "Bartholdi's statue at our shore, liberty enlightening the world, stands as a symbol true of our fair land. Our Nation for a century has stood, holding a light aloft for governments, in precept and example. Here the oppressed have gathered, here the poor. Here men have worshiped God, pursued their arts, and built their sanctuaries of rest. Beneath the light of liberty, the stunted growth and pale development of older nations, coming to our shores, have blossomed green and fair. Invention has hatched out a lively brood, and art and literature and science have found a place. The light of liberty has crossed the seas and pierced the darkness of the nations, bound with chains of Church and Cæsar, and men, before in ignorance, have had the light to see their bondage, and to burst their thrall. And now, shall all be changed? Shall this bright, bold herculean of the West, whose course has compassed all the zodiac signs, return to night, and chaos, and despair? Turn the dial backward for a thousand years, and say to superstition and ignorance, 'The experiment's a failure. Civil rights are lost. Society must be maintained at cost of masses to exalt the few. Let feudalism return. Let ignorance reign. Let God's plan fail, and Christ's great principle of rendering Cæsar's due and God his due, be accounted naught.' Shall man again in this enlightened day when no theocracy is ordained of God upon earth, set himself as God, exalt himself above him, in compelling men to act a thing they are not? Shall we who sprung from the staunch martyr's blood, declare the Inquisition's a righteous thing, and repeat it in our system?"

Then rose a great reformer (so he was called), and said with meaning look, "Our friend has had a touch of frost before his time, I think," and turned a laugh against his argument. "We but desire men's good. He speaks too fast. It is not Church and State we would have united, as in the old, dark days; we brave their union for the betterment of all society, and take just means."

"Society is reformed not by laws. Reform begins within, and not without. Get men converted by the power of God, and then you'll keep society intact; but put your thumb-screw of the law on all men's thumbs, and you'll have men who'll wear the cross's sign upon their coats, as some kirks wear their spires, to point toward heaven, albeit there's hell within. It seems the church is wearying of her task of preaching the gospel, and would shift her burden to the burly shoulders of the State. Let him beware; she'll make a tyrant wife."

(To be Continued.)