Chapter 1

MY CHILDHOOD, YOUTH AND EDUCATION

Practically all people inherit their first religious opinions from their parents, their early environment or both, as I did mine. The trouble with most of us is that we never get beyond that stage. We take it for granted that these opinions, whether about religion, politics or anything else, are correct, because we have been told so, and never go out of our way or trouble ourselves for a moment to investigate their truth or error. And thus we go on from generation to generation, traveling in the same old ruts, thinking the same old thoughts, in the same old way, each of us assuming that our particular ancestors could not possibly have been wrong about anything; and although Christianity is divided into several hundred different denominations and creeds, each believes his creed to be absolutely correct and all the others partly or wholly wrong.

Like Saul of Tarsus, I belonged to the Pharisees of the strictest sect. I was taught from infancy that the church of my parents was the one and only true, scriptural and orthodox church on earth, with an unbroken organic succession from Jesus Christ himself down to the present time; that it was the only true exponent of apostolic faith and practice; the only true and lawful custodian of the word of God, and the only authority for the administration of the ordinances of the gospel; that all other organizations claiming to be churches were not churches in fact, but merely religious societies; and that while some of these societies might do some little good in the world, and some of their members might ultimately be saved, they could never reach those sublime heights of glory reserved exclusively for the truly baptized members of the true and only church. Just when and how these ideas first took concrete form in my mind it is impossible for me now to remember. As above intimated, in the plastic condition of my youthful mind, I naturally absorbed them from the very atmosphere in which I lived, from the common talk I heard around me, as well as from the direct instruction given me.

As far back as I can remember, I understood the Bible to be the word of God, every word of it, from the first word in Genesis to the last "Amen" of Revelation; that it was all divinely inspired, _verbatim et literatim_, just as it appeared in the old King James version; that it was God's revelation to mankind, beside and outside of which there never was, and never would be any other; that every word of it was literally, and infallibly true, just as it read. Such a thing as figurative, or allegorical interpretations I never heard of until I was a grown man, as we shall see later.

This, of course, meant a literal six-day Creation, an anthropomorphic God, a literal physical heaven, and likewise a literal, physical hell, a personal devil, the absolute, literal, truth of the story of Eden, the original perfection and fall of man, total depravity of the race, vicarious atonement and the eternal damnation of all mankind, individually and collectively, who did not accept the prescribed creed of the church of my parents, as the only means of escape.

My first conception of God was that of a great big good man sitting high up in heaven on a great white throne, whence He would judge the world; that heaven was a great city somewhere up in the skies, with streets of gold and walls of jasper; that hell was a literal burning lake of fire and brimstone somewhere down under the world, and that it was presided over by the devil and was made to burn people in who were not good, or who had not believed in Christ as a personal Savior. As a little child I was taught that if I was not a good boy, when I died, the devil, usually spoken of as "the bad man," would get me and burn me in this hell forever and ever; and that I never could burn up or die, and if I called for water he would pour melted lead down my throat. Many a time I would think over this horrible torture that I might inadvertently fall into by doing some bad thing when at heart I really meant to be good, and sincerely wish I had never been born.

In my night visions I could see the devil with his tea-kettle of melted lead, pouring it down the throats of the helpless little ones, writhing in the tortures of the never ending fire!

On the day that I was twelve years old a little incident occurred that so indelibly stamped itself on my mind, and so changed the course of my thoughts thereafter, that it is necessary to mention it. I was proud I had reached that stage of life. I was boasting of it to a hired man, with whom I was doing an errand, informing him that I was now "more than half a man," and that in nine more years I would be a man, when "I could do as I pleased." He informed me that, after all, it was not a thing to be so proud of; that I had that day reached "the age of accountability"; that on that day I became personally responsible to God for my sins; that if I had died before that day I would have been saved from hell by God's free grace, because of my infancy; but that _from that day on_, I must account to God for myself; and that it would be necessary for me to repent, and pray daily for the forgiveness of my sins, lest I die and fall into the "bottomless pit" for all eternity. This was news to me. I had never heard of before. It produced a profound sensation in my thought; and to say it seriously troubled me is to put it mildly. As soon as my errand was done I went to my mother with it. She confirmed it. Then I sincerely wished I had died before I reached that fateful day.

Another serious trouble confronted me. When told I must repent of my sins and pray for forgiveness, I could not comprehend just what it meant to "repent." I was told that it was "to be sorry" for my sins.

To be frank, I was not conscious of any sin. I had tried to be a good boy; I was obedient to my parents, and did no evil to any one that I was aware of. True, I made childish mistakes every day, as all children do. But I could not recognize that I had been personally sinful against God. I knew I had not meant to be. Then they told me that I was _born_ a sinner! That when Adam ate the "forbidden fruit" it made every person that was ever born into the world thereafter, a sinner by nature; and I would have to repent of this sin, as well as all that I ever committed, if I ever expected to escape the lake of fire and brimstone "where the worm dieth not and the fire is not quenched." My whole nature, even as a child, revolted against the injustice of thus making me responsible for, and punishing me for something some one else did thousands of years ago; but I had no remedy and had to take it and prepare to repent of Adam's sin.

What a monstrous doctrine to teach a child! Can any mortal in this age of the world believe such nonsense, or perpetrate such a caricature of God? I wondered how the "Good Man" up in the skies on his great white throne in his beautiful city of gold, could be just and plunge a little child into hell and burn it for ever and ever because Adam ate fruit from the wrong tree! But I believed it then, because I was told so, and knew no better. I don't believe it now, and how any human being with the instincts of justice pertaining to the common brute creation can believe such a thing is a mystery to me.

As time went on I learned more about repentance, faith, conversion, baptism and the current theology of my time and environment. But I was ever anxious to escape from that dreaded hell that ever yawned before me in daytime and disturbed my dreams at night. The thought of it was a veritable nightmare to me. It destroyed the happiness of my early life. As a child I could not reconcile it with any conception of God's goodness or justice. I was often, in the silence of my heart, tempted to rebel against God and defy him. But I was afraid. My thought was to make the best I could of a bad situation, and at the earliest possible moment make good my escape. Perhaps this is as good a place as any to state the fact that my parents were members of the Baptist Church, and that in this faith I was brought up. However, I am glad to be able to state that they were much broader and more liberal in their views than many of their brethren. I do not wish to be unjust to this great organization; but it is necessary here to make some statements concerning its doctrine and practice, in order that my future relations to it may be the better understood--statements, the truth of which, all intelligent Baptists will testify to.

First, the Baptist Church is just as exclusive in its claim to being the only true, scriptural, orthodox, apostolic Church as are the Catholics, Episcopalians, or any other Christian body. But this applies _only_ to their ecclesiastical organization, and _not_ to the character of its membership.

Second, it _does not_ hold that baptism is essential to salvation, but that it _is_ to church membership. They do not baptize people _to make_ them Christians; but because they recognize them as already being Christians, thru repentance, faith in Christ, and the regeneration of the Holy Spirit. Thus, they _recognize_ the true Christian character of any and all others who furnish evidence of these fundamental characteristics of a Christian life, tho they do not recognize them as "church members," no matter to what other ecclesiastical organization they may belong. These statements are necessary to understand what follows.

Now in the country where I was brought up, in the time of my boyhood, there were but two churches,--Baptists and Methodists. In fact I was nearly grown before I knew there were any others at all. These churches were generally friendly--in a way. While there was occasional criticism of each by the other, and some controversy over doctrinal differences, there was no open warfare; and often members of each would attend and worship with the other.

As above said, I was anxious to make terms with God by repenting, being baptized, or anything else that would relieve me of that constant dread of eternal damnation that overshadowed my life.

Perhaps the reader has already surmised that I was brought up in the country districts. Our churches usually held services but once a month. But in the summer, when the "crops were laid-by," we usually had our "protracted meetings," usually lasting a week--from Sunday to Sunday--having two services a day at the church, with dinner on the ground "for all who came." This was the annual revival season, when sinners were "snatched from the eternal burning," back-sliders reclaimed and the cold and indifferent warmed up and aroused.

Well, the summer after I was twelve years old and had reached that fateful period of "personal accountability," at our protracted meeting, I wanted to go to the "mourner's bench," repent, join the church and be baptized, and thus make good my escape and my "calling and election sure." At this time I had no clear conception of the meaning of conversion. Somehow I identified it with joining the church and being baptized. Contrary to the teachings of my church--which at that time I did not understand,--to me, baptism was the main thing. I wanted to be baptized. But they told me I was too young,--and too small to go down into the deep water. This was a great disappointment. But I saw a ray of hope.

The next week the Methodist Church near our home had its protracted meeting and we attended. There I saw children, younger and smaller than myself go to the mourner's bench, join the church and be baptized,--by sprinkling. They even sprinkled babies. While I clearly understood that this was not _true baptism_, I also knew that many of the Methodists were considered truly good people, good Christians, and sure of heaven at death, notwithstanding their lack of true baptism. I therefore conceived the idea that after all, this sprinkling might possess some merit, at least provisionally; and I therefore insisted on being permitted to join the Methodist Church and be sprinkled for the time being, as a sort of emergency measure, until I should grow up to that age--and size--where I might join the Baptist Church and be baptized right. But this pleasure was denied me.

During the next two years I learned much; for I was a close student, altho only a child. My mind also underwent a considerable change. That constant and tormenting fear and dread of hell gradually weakened. In fact I was consciously growing more and more indifferent toward it. Yet I was not altogether uninterested. I had learned much more about the meaning of "conversion" as I saw it manifested in many, and sometimes violent, forms of demonstration. As I saw these I fancied that this was the kind of conversion I would like to have. I wanted to "get happy and shout" as some of the others did.

The time came for the annual protracted meeting at the church of my parents. At this meeting I found myself the object of considerable solicitude. I was now old enough to be converted, join the church and be baptized. They were all anxious that I be "saved." Of course I had to repent of my sins,--and also of Adam's. I was not so self-conscious of innocence now as I was a few years before. I really felt that I had something to repent of.

The preacher, and a good honest, sincere man he was, pictured the flames of hell and the torments of the damned with such power that I almost felt the warmth of its fires and smelled its fumes of sulphur.

I set out in earnest to repent of my own sins as well as Adam's. Repenting was very easy. I cried until the tears refused to flow longer. Believing was easy, for I believed it all. Being baptized was easy. But I had not yet been "converted." There was no miraculous transformation in me. I had not yet "got happy and shouted." I waited for it. My tears dried up. I still went to the "mourners' bench," but nothing came of it. I could not even cry. One day the preacher, noting my condition, had a talk with me. I told him my feelings, and he said I was converted. But I told him that no such change had come over me as the others told about, and that seemed manifest in their emotions and actions. Then he told me that as I was young and had never been a great sinner I could not expect that wonderful "experience" that often comes to the old and hardened cases. I was truly glad to hear it. I really felt saved. I had now escaped the devil. I had already learned the doctrine of "once in grace always in grace," and I felt supremely happy to think that after all I had now escaped from the "eternal burning" and was entirely out of danger. I joined the church and was baptized.

I have thus referred at some length to my childhood for two reasons: It will be seen later how some of these experiences affected my after-life; and also because I feel that in some measure I am only repeating in substance the experiences of millions of others who have passed through similar conditions of life. Also to say to you, who were brought up in the light of a liberal faith and free from these dogmas of dread, despair and damnation, that you ought to be sincerely thankful that you have escaped at least this much of hell, no matter how much the orthodox may have in store for you in the future; and further, to exonerate my parents from any blame in the premises. They taught me only as they had been taught and firmly believed, and did it all for what they honestly believed, to be for my best interests. Like millions of others, they did the best they knew at the time.

THE CALL TO PREACH.--It was a part of the orthodox belief at that time, and is very largely so even now, that after the fall of Adam, practically all the human race was lost except now and then a worthy patriarch like Abel, Enoch and Noah, down to the call of Abraham; and after that only the pious and faithful of the seed of Abraham, thru Isaac, were saved, down to the coming of Christ. All the balance of mankind were utterly and irretrievably lost, both wicked and apostate Jews and _all_ Gentiles. And since the death of Christ those only are saved who repent and believe in him as a personal savior, and accept the prescribed creed of the particular church presenting it. All the balance of mankind, including all Jews and nine-tenths of the balance of mankind are irretrievably lost.

This being the case, the sole end and aim in life is to escape hell hereafter. Nine-tenths of the preaching in my boyhood was to warn men to "flee from the wrath to come." But little was said about the love of God or the brotherhood of man, the nobility of character, human helpfulness, the promotion of happiness here, and the general uplift and advancement of civilization and mankind.

It was wonderful the way they did ring the changes on hell and damnation, and fire and brimstone! It thundered from every pulpit like the traditional thunders from Mt. Sinai.

Taking this view of the world, of life and mankind, I felt that the greatest thing in the world a man could do would be to devote his life to warning men of their danger and pointing the way to safety. I wanted to sound my voice in warning men to "flee from the wrath to come." Believing that all men were lost if they did not follow the prescribed course laid down by my church, I felt that if I did not do all in my power to direct them in the way of eternal life their blood would be on my hands. While I did not feel that I would be "lost" if I failed in this--for the doctrine of my church was, that once being converted all the devils in hell could not keep one ultimately from heaven--yet I felt that my future happiness in heaven would be diminished just in proportion as I failed to do my best in this behalf. This was interpreted to be a "divine call to preach." I accepted it with profound earnestness and deep conviction, and began early to exercise my gifts.

In due course of events I went to college to "prepare for the ministry." I was in love with the work and happy in its prospects. I was ambitious to be thoroly efficient in my work in the future and pursued my studies with diligence accordingly. Incidentally I learned much that was not in the books, as most college students do.

I little knew what was before me. Here in a "school of the prophets," where I was supposed to be thoroly trained, rooted and grounded in the faith of my church, I was to learn the first lessons that ultimately led me entirely out of the orthodox faith, into a broad, rational liberalism! A few of these it will be necessary to state here, not so much because of any immediate effect they produced, as to show the working of the leaven that years afterward "leavened the whole lump."

The first shock I got was in the study of Geology. When I began it I saw at once that it was out of harmony with the Bible account of Creation, the origin of the earth, and organic life upon it. While no one told me so, I somehow conceived the idea that we were not studying it because it was recognized as truth, but just the opposite. Being rooted and grounded from my infancy in the belief in the absolute literalness, and infallible truth of the Bible; and supposing that I was in college only to be more thoroly instructed in this divine truth, I conceived the idea that this book we were studying was merely the "guess-work" of some modern infidel, and that our real purpose in studying it was to be the more able to refute it when we got out into our life work; all of which would fully appear before we finished the book.

One day when we were perhaps half thru, the professor, himself a Baptist minister, catechised the class individually, as to their opinions as to the length of time the earth was in process of formation, previous to the appearance of life upon it. I noticed, with surprise, that the answers varied from a few millions to hundreds of billions of years, until the question came to me, when I answered promptly, "Six days!" Everybody laughed, professor and all. Of course I felt "cheap"; but insisted on the correctness of my answer "because the Bible said so," notwithstanding Lyell and Dana to the contrary.

The professor complimented me on my "loyalty to the Scriptures," but explained that the story of creation in Genesis was to be interpreted "figuratively"; that it referred to six great geological epochs in terms of days; and that what we were studying was to be accepted as scientific truth in its general principles, subject, however, to possible revision in some of its details as further geological discoveries were made.

This was a revelation to me. I know the intelligent reader of today will be provoked to laugh at my native, inherent "greenness." But it must not be forgotten that this was thirty-six years ago; and besides this, there are still, in this year of grace 1919, literally millions of men and women, long past the age of student life, who still hold substantially the same views concerning the relations of science to religion and the Bible that I held then. The simplicity of faith is often sublime. And I am not sure that it is not often the truth that, "Ignorance is bliss where it is folly to be wise"; especially where the "wisdom" is just sufficient to disturb the mind but not enough to settle it. But I had a revelation,--two of them.

First, that modern science is to be taken seriously; and second, that much of the Bible must be interpreted figuratively. The latter was the most disturbing to me. The question that confronted me was this: If the Bible is partly literal and partly figurative, when I get out into my life work as a minister, how am I to be able to always determine correctly just what parts are literal and what figurative; and how to interpret the figures? But the answer came as quickly as the question: This is just what I am here to learn, and before I am thru I will doubtless know it all! Some time after this a discussion arose among the divinity students, about the doctrines of inspiration--as to whether the Bible was literally and verbally inspired, word for word, or was merely an inspiration of ideas, the writers being left to write their "inspirations" in their own language and manner. My idea had always been that of the former, that the Bible was inspired word for word, just as it reads. But I found the more progressive and better educated class among both students and professors had abandoned this idea, and accepted the doctrine of the inspiration of ideas only. It was strange to me that God could not have dictated the words as easily as the ideas, and thus have made sure of their correctness. But it set me to thinking. I had never had any doubt about the inspiration of the Bible, yet I could give no reason for it, except that I had always been told so. Now as progress and education were going to compel me to revise my opinions about the _manner_ of inspiration, I began to wonder what evidence we really had that the Bible was inspired at all. I really had no doubts about the fact. I supposed, of course, the evidence existed _somewhere_, but that they had never been specifically pointed out to me; and I wanted to know just _what_ and _where_ they were. I confided my inquiries to a senior student in whom I had great confidence. He told me the devil was whispering doubts in my ear and I should not listen to him! That there could be no possible doubt about the _fact_ of inspiration; that this question had been definitely and finally settled over eighteen hundred years ago by the wisest and best men of the world, and there had never been a shadow of a doubt about it since; that the evidences of inspiration of ideas instead of verbal inspiration were found in the many different styles and manner of writing found in the Bible itself as represented by the different writers. But as to the fundamental fact of divine inspiration itself, there had never been a shadow of a doubt! So I accepted the new idea of inspiration and said "Get thee behind me, Satan," and after that for many years I did not permit myself to doubt the fact of inspiration. Yet occasionally I could not keep from thinking, and many years later this question arose again in my mind with tragic force and effect.