HOW IT CAME OUT by Parrie L. H. Roberson

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Jun 3, 1897

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 23, No. 22.

HOW IT CAME OUT.

By Parrie L. H. Roberson

BARTHOLOMEW BIGGS was an honest old farmer; and, more than that, he was a Christian. He could shout, "Glory, hallelujah!" louder than any one else; and even Mr. Dodge, the minister, could not pray more fervently than he.

Mr. Biggs was a deacon in the church, the old gray church on the corner, which he always faithfully attended, regardless of the condition of the weather.

To him this old gray church was the only true temple of God upon this sinful earth; and no one had ever been able to persuade him to attend religious services outside of the walls of it. But one summer some people came and pitched a big white tent in the little old fashioned village of Deadwood. And soon many strange opinions were formed and queer stories circulated concerning these peculiar strangers.

Some said they were trying to run a circus and camp-meeting hand in hand. Others said they were only a set of religious cranks, while a few thought they must be blasphemers. General curiosity was at once aroused; but Deacon Biggs was not a man to run after new things. In fact, he seldom read the newspapers save for the purpose of ascertaining the price of hay or wheat; and he usually learned these important items from his old friend and adjoining neighbor, Caleb Munson.

Now "Barth" and "Cale," as they were known to each other, had grown up from boyhood together, and what one knew the other soon found out. Accordingly, when Caleb heard how these queer tent-dwellers were talking and doing, how they observed "Saturday" as a sacred day of rest instead of Sunday, and were advocating other doctrines as "terrible," he went over to have a talk with "Neighbor Barth" about the impropriety of allowing such conduct in their midst. He verily believed there should be a protest from the church people of Deadwood.

Now when Deacon Biggs heard these direful reports, he felt that it was more than his righteous soul could endure to remain silent and know of such doings among a people who called themselves Christians. It certainly did not seem right for them to be openly profaning the day which he and his father and grandfather had always kept as holy, and trying to influence others to forsake the religion of their fathers. Why, this would never do. It would be giving the enemy peaceful possession, and he for one felt determined that such evil influence must be speedily removed, tho he said but little to Mr. Munson at the time.

But what followed may be better appreciated if told in Deacon Biggs' own words as he told it to his friend out behind the barn on the following Monday morning.

"I tell you, Cale," he began, "I felt sorter riled up the other day, when you told me about how them there folks down at that tent was talkin' an' actin', an' I jest made up my mind that somethin' must be done to nip sech doin's in the bud. So after eatin' a bite of supper, I put out fer the pars'nage to have a talk with Brother Dodge about matters, feelin' shore that he'd land in an' rout 'em quick enough.

"Well, when I got there, he was settin' at his desk writin' out what I tuck to be his sermon. It didn't take me long to interduce my business; an' starin' at me sorter pestered like fer a minute, he said he'd heerd of sech a people long 'fore they made their appearance in Deadwood. But he kinder leaned to the idy that the best way was to keep shy of 'em till they pulled up an' got out. But said I, 'Everybody won't keep cle'r of 'em, an' next thing we know, some of the young folks will be led off after their ways; an' the peace an' quiet in our neighborhood on Sunday will be spiled.'

"Well," said he, "the best thing we can do is to warn people agin 'em; fer," said he, "it ain't safe to venture onto the devil's ground to fight him, and fer my part, I don't keer to run the risk."

"Well now, Cale, you don't know how I felt when I see our pastor seemed so kinder feared an' speakin' so nettled like. Now that's not my way of doin' things, an' seein' I couldn't expect any help from him to rout 'em, an' recollectin' what the Bible says about not givin' place to the devil, I jest settled it in my mind then an' there that I'd go down an' jump afoul of 'em myself; fer I felt it was somebody's duty to perfect the morals of Deadwood society.

"But in the first place I had to get a holt on 'em, so I could hist 'em out; an' seein' I know'd so little of their reel doin's, I see the only thing left fer me to do was to go down an' see an' hear fer myself. So I jest struck a bee-line from the pars'nage to that tent, expectin' to hear blasphemy and sech things.

"Well, when I got there they was singin' somethin' about searchin' the Scriptures. Thinks I, that don't sound bad; an' when I got inside, the next thing was prayin', an' bein' as I'm a Christian an' didn't want to appear heathenish, I knelt down, not knowin' how long I'd stay there. But, Caleb Munson, I listened close to that prayer an' I never heerd a blasphemous expression, an' afore I know'd it, I'd hollered out, 'Amen!' Then after we'd riz up, they sung another song that kept askin', 'What says the Bible?' an' tellin' us to keep the commandments; an' that was mighty differ'nt from what I'd expected to hear. And the next thing after we'd set down, a pleasant-faced feller got up an' read some out of the Bible where it tells about them beasts that Daniel saw in vision. And I ain't here if he didn't have pictures of some of the outlandishest-lookin' brutes you ever see in yer life; an' when he begin to talk, thinks I, Young man, you're gittin' into pretty deep water an' if you cain't swim, you'll drown shore.

"But, sir, he could swim. Why, he handled them beasts as handy, an' seemed as used to 'em, as I am to old Bill an' Hobble! An' that terrible beast that had iron teeth, that devoured an' broke in pieces an' stomped the residue with its feet, that had ten horns with a little one in the middle with a man's head on it—you know what I mean, it's the one that old Timothy Greene allowed was a thrashin' machine—well, he made it fit in fer what he called Rome under the Papacy.

"He went on to tell that the Sabbath had been changed from the seventh to the first day of the week, which he said was Sunday. Now I often wondered when lookin' in the almanac how it was that they allus put Sunday fer the first day of the week, when the Bible says the seventh day's the Sabbath of the Lord, so you better believe I listened to see how he'd fix it. Well, he went on an' proved by the Bible and hist'ry that that little horn was the Roman Catholic power, the Papacy; an' the Papacy's the very critter that took it on itself to tamper with the perfect law of God an' set up the first day instead of the seventh day of the week fer the Sabbath. Jest think of it, Cale, we've been obeyin' that horn beast all our lives by keepin' Sunday, when we thought we was obeyin' our Creator. It beats all how blind we've been.

"Well, of course I never could tell it like he did; but it was plain enough to me when he told it. I wish you'd a ben there, Cale, it was interestin'—nothin' flowery 'bout it, specially; but he tuck up sech parts of Scripture as you an' me, an' our preacher too, fer that matter, never dared to meddle with, an' made 'em face about an' explain each other. And it jest come to me that the understandin' of the sealed prophecies is like the handlin' of chestnut burs. It's no trouble at all to git at the inside when the right time comes, fer they'll open theirselves when they're ripe enough; an' then the rest of the job is easy enough if we know what chestnuts is when we see 'em, an' keer ter pick 'em up an' crack 'em. An' that's what them

people are doin' down at that tent; they are crackin' the chestnuts with the Gospel hammer, an' offerin' them to the people of Deadwood, an' if we don't git our share of the kernels of truth, it's our fault.

"Well, the long and short of it is that I felt mighty different when I left that tent from what I did when I started there. The meetin' broke up it seemed right in the middle of it, fer I was that interested I wanted to hear the rest of it; an' when the speaker invited all to come ag'in, the next evenin' I knowed Barth Biggs would be there; fer what I'd heerd had fetched about a hankerin' in my soul fer more; an' thinks I to myself, Brother Dodge don't know what he's missed; so I'll go over to-morrow an' tell him how mistaken we all was concernin' these folks, an' he will be glad to go along an' kinder git an insight to makin' the Bible explain itself; fer I see how that kind of preachin' dispelled doubt concernin' the inspiration of the Scriptures an' made everything mighty plain an' interestin'.

"But, sir, when I named it to him, he flared up in a way that showed me that he'd ben 'round them at some time an' place or other, an', dashin' in to fight 'em, he'd grabbed the fire poker at the wrong end an' burnt hisself. He didn't seem a bit surprised to hear about the Sabbath bein' changed either; but said he: 'I'll rejoice when the Sunday law is enforced in this place like it is bein' done in some places, then these fanatics will have to suffer fer their impudence in comin' in an' disturbin' an' tearin' up other churches. The last one of 'em ought to be in jail.'

" 'Brother Dodge,' says I, 'I am worse mistaken in you than I was in them what you're pleased to call fanatics. When I went down 'mongst them last night, my ears was cocked up to hear only evil, that I might find occasion against 'em. But my disappointment come when I heerd 'em condemnin' the wickedness of breakin' the law of God, an' admonishin' everybody to exalt it by keepin' it, even to the risk of losin' their property or the givin' up of their lives. Now,' says I, 'that's the kind of religion that's worth havin'. But I come here to tell you the Bible news that I heerd there, thinkin' that you'd be glad to hear an' enjoy it too, bein' as you're a preacher of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, who says, "If ye love me, keep my commandments," an' "a new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you." Then to find you ready to jail these who're tryin' to keep his commandments an' searchin' the Scriptures an' tryin' to git others to—it don't look right to me, an' I feel powerful disappointed in you.'

"But seein' he didn't want to talk on the subject I bid him good-day an' went home feelin' kinder—well, I can't tell you jest how I felt—but I went ag'in to the tent meetin' that night an' the next night, an' come home feelin' certainer every time I went that both the warp an' the fillin' of their doctrine was solid Scripture, an' Satan an' his agents might pull an' twist at it all they're a mind to, but they'd not tear it in two; fer I see that it was wove by the hand of God long ago. I tell you, Cale, there's real heavenly manna fallin' right from the vessels of heaven fer us, an' I want you to git your share, an' I'm goin' to fetch Car'line out to-night if she ain't too tired from her washin'."

"Wal, wal," drawled Mr. Munson, as his friend paused for a moment, "'tis surprisin' how things change about sometimes. That day I went over an' told you what I'd heerd of them people, you was ready to mount yer high horse and drive 'em out the kentry. An' now you come beggin' me to go an' hear 'em; an' knowin' you as I do, I should judge it's no common nonsense you've struck down there. But it'll do to be keerful, Barth, an' not let yer ears git to itchin' fer new docturns. You know what Paul says about sech things."

"Now, Cale, you know it's not me to run after new things," was Deacon Biggs' quick rejoinder; "I've allus found old things the best, an' I've allus followed the old fashions, an' I'm ag'inst everything that's new an' fickle; an' let me tell you that's jest why I'm so mighty interested in this doctrine. Why, it's no new affair at all. It's what God handed down to the prophets, an' it's the religion that our Saviour lived while here upon earth, an' what he wants to find us livin' when he comes ag'in. Now it's no use to argy, but go an' heer fer yerself."

Bartholomew Biggs attended the meeting that Monday night, accompanied by Mrs. Biggs and his friend, Caleb Munson; and there, for the first time in all their uneventful lives, they heard it proclaimed from the Gospel stand, and made sure by the Word of God, that when a man dies he is really dead and not more alive than he was before his death. They, like many other good people, had been taught that the body and the soul were two separate beings; that when death came to a man, it simply meant a separation of the two; the body was left to decay, while the soul—if a righteous one—immediately ascended to heaven, there to join in the songs and pleasures of the angels. But if a sinful soul took its departure, it descended to an ever-burning hell, there to writhe in increasing heat through eternity.

The speaker read from his Bible: "And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul." The text did not say that God breathed or thrust a soul into man, but breathed life into him, thus changing him from a lifeless soul to a living soul, or living creature. Breath gives the soul, or mind, power, or spirit, to act, just as steam applied to an engine causes it to spring into action. When man dies, the breath of life, or his spirit, returns to God who gave it. And the soul or mind being left lifeless, has no power to think or act. Man is only mortal and corruptible, and immortality is obtainable only through faith in Christ at the resurrection of the just. "When this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory." But the unjust, who will be raised at the second resurrection, a thousand years later, shall be forever destroyed; like the stubble or the fat of lambs, they shall consume into smoke and ashes.

Thus the speaker continued to read and reason from the Word of God, showing the wisdom and mercy of the divine plan. To the people of Deadwood this was a vital point being strangely dealt with; and Caleb Munson, for one, was not inclined to renounce his former belief concerning the state of the dead. And that night on the way home he suddenly broke the sullen silence which seemed to have bound the grizzled trio, by asking Mrs. Biggs this gloomy question:—

"Say, Car'line, what d'ye think of God lettin' yer poor little Rachel's soul lay an' rot in the cold, damp groun' all these years when you wuz so shore she wuz in heaven?"

"Well, I dunno," was conservative Caroline's only reply.

But the lamp of reason was trimmed and burning in Deacon Biggs' soul, and addressing his friend he said:—

"Fer my part, it seems a heap better than to think of her singin' 'round mongst the angels, tantalizin' your poor Joe that you've believed has been sufferin' in the flames of hell all these sixteen year. I've often wondered how heavenly bein's could be so hard-hearted as to rejoice at so torturin' a sight, an' then the idee of keepin' a man sufferin' fer years an' years before judgin' him. It seems a heap more like it to let him lie over in prison till after he's judged an' then give him his reward, an' done with it. An' another thing I never could quite see wuz why the Creator would want to gather up all the happy, shinin' spirits in heaven an' saddle their old bodies onto them when they had got along so nicely without 'em fer so long. An' still another pesteration wuz to see how the wicked could die the second death if they wuz allus dyin' an' yet could never die at all. I never dared to say much about it before; but you better believe I done some mighty thinkin' about that kind of wisdom an' mercy. But I see now that our heavenly Father is as merciful as the Bible says he is; an' fer my part I feel more like servin' him than ever before."

After this speech from Deacon Biggs, silence again held sway until they reached Mr. Munson's big gate, where he bade his neighbors good-night with a promise to his friend Barth to accompany him to the tent meeting the next evening.

As for Mrs. Biggs, she said she didn't think she would go any more, for she felt too old to be trapsin' about at night.

What all happened during the following week we need not tell. But, according to Mrs. Biggs' story, one very strange thing did happen. It was the first time Hannah Munson had called on her for almost a week and this is what Mrs. Biggs told her:—

"I don't know what Barth heerd at that tent last night, but it must 'a' been somethin' curious; fer this mornin' when I went out to feed the pigs, there in the filth of that hog-pen lay his pipe that he's smoked fer night onto twenty year, an' the last two plugs of terbacker he had about the place; an' Barth's no hand to waste things either."

Well, one strange thing followed another; and when Deacon Biggs arose in the prayer-meeting in the little old gray church on the following Wednesday evening, he said:—

"Brethren, I, fer one, feel determined to serve the Lord as never before, an' I want to tell you that the Saviour has done a great work for me durin' the last two weeks. The cobwebs have been swept from the winders of my soul, an' I declare I have made a junk-shop of my mind jest long enough. Why, brethren, I never knowed how full of old rubbish it was till the bright light of the Gospel come in an' showed me the cleanliness and beauty of the law of my Creator. An' I've asked him to write this law in my heart so that I could keep it. I never knowed how before. I've been but little better than a heathen an' didn't know it. But Jesus is at work cleansin' my heart, an' by his grace I am doin' all I can to cleanse myself. By that grace of God I have been enabled to throw away some of the most precious idols here lately, because I saw they wuz keepin' me from my Saviour. [This gave a little light on the mystery in the pig-pen, so Caroline said.] Truly the Lord is good an' greatly to be praised, an' I want to be ready when he comes to gather his people home. He's comin' soon, brethren, he's 'even at the door.'"

Not one friendly response was heard at the close of this heartfelt testimony, but a death-like silence fell upon the little congregation, and the meeting closed with but little ceremony. On the way home that night Mrs. Munson said to her husband:—

"Don't it cap the climax how Barth Biggs has flopped over to that there crazy new docturn?"

"There's nothin' new ner crazy about it, Hanner; it's older'n the hills, an' all that troubles me is that I ain't got the courage of my convictions to live it out like Barth has."

But the time soon came when not only Caleb Munson found courage to obey the truth as it is in our Lord Jesus Christ, but Hannah and Caroline found it pleasant to walk with their faithful companions in the straight and narrow way that leads to life eternal, even tho the doors of the beloved old gray church on the corner were closed to them forever.

PARRIE L. H. ROBERSON. St. Helena, Cal.