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CHAPTER

FROM BONDAGE TO LIBERTY IN RELIGION

A RELIGIOUS AUTOBIOGRAPHY

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

SEEKING LIBERTY

Other questions now began to arise that were soon to materially affect my church relations, without, however, any material change in my fundamental theology. As before stated, my sole ambition in life was to warn sinners to "flee from the wrath to come." To this one purpose all other things must be made subordinate. For this one purpose I was pursuing my studies in college that I might become the more efficient in its accomplishment. Impressed as I was with the awful truth of man's total depravity and natural alienation from God, and the certainty of his eternal damnation in the never-ending flames, unless he accepted fully, and followed implicitly the prescribed course which I had been taught was the only means of escape, I felt that "Woe is me, if I preach not the gospel." I felt that any deflection on my part, from the full performance of my duty in this particular, up to the full extent of my power and opportunity, would not only entail eternal torments upon all who might have been thus saved thru my efforts, but would also detract from my own eternal glory in heaven in exactly the same ratio.

I began to look upon the church as being at most but a means, or agency to this end; the channel thru which I might work to accomplish this central purpose. Leaving other churches out of consideration, as not being germane to the purpose of this narrative, while yet in school I had become more fully informed as to the fundamental theology of the Methodist Church; and somewhat to my surprise, I found there was no substantial difference between it and the Baptist Church, to which I belonged. They both appealed to the same infallible revelation; both taught the same doctrine of the fall of man, total depravity and inherited sin; both taught the same doctrines concerning the personality and character of Christ, and the vicarious atonement in his death; the same doctrines concerning heaven and hell; and the same doctrines of salvation by repentance, faith in Jesus Christ, and regeneration by the Holy Spirit. I perceived that the only substantial difference between the two was purely one of ecclesiastical organization and polity. As before noted, the Baptist Church did not hold that either baptism or church membership was necessary to salvation; but that "salvation" was first necessary before one was scripturally entitled to either baptism or church membership. It was also freely admitted that a truly repentant and converted Methodist was just as truly "saved" and as sure of heaven as any Baptist,--and that there were many such there could be no doubt,--true members of the kingdom of God and the Church Universal; true heirs of glory and fit subjects for the heavenly kingdom,--yet not fit for membership in the earthly church, admittedly imperfect at its best, solely because they had not been dipped under the water, an ordinance admitted to be secondary, and wholly unnecessary to the main object!

During the summer that followed the close of my sophomore year in college , an event occurred that so affected my future ecclesiastical relations that it needs to be told in some detail.

The event that so influenced my future thought was this: At a Baptist church, some six miles from my father's residence, their annual protracted meeting had been going on a week,--from Sunday to Sunday. Some eight or ten persons had joined the church during the week and were to be baptized at 10 A.M. on this last Sunday, after which was to follow the regular church services at 11 A.M.; and then the celebration of the Lord's Supper. A half mile away was a Methodist church, and the place of baptism was the ford of a creek about half way between the two.

The Methodist Sunday School usually met at 9.30 A.M. But on this occasion superintendent, teachers and pupils, came in a body down to the ford to see the baptising. After it was over the Methodist superintendent, with several of his teachers and older pupils, remained for the services at the Baptist church. At the close of the sermon two persons presented themselves for membership, and were accepted, by vote of the members, subject to baptism, at the next regular monthly meeting; after which Brother Crawford, the Methodist Sunday School Superintendent, was called on to lead in prayer, a function in which he was earnest, able and eloquent, as well as being universally recognized as a man of unblemished character, sincere and deep piety.

The minister then proceeded to administer the Lord's Supper, prefacing it with the usual apologies and explanations about "close baptism" instead of "close communion"; and to illustrate this point, he referred to the fact that two persons had just presented themselves for church membership, and had been accepted, subject to baptism, concerning whose conversion and sincere Christian character, there was just as sure confidence as there was of any that had been baptized that morning; yet these two could not partake of the Lord's Supper because they had not yet been baptized.

Just at this point there suddenly darted into my mind, almost with the force of a "clap of thunder from a clear sky," the question, "Where is the scriptural authority for this?" I had heard it perhaps a hundred times. I was as familiar with it as I was with the alphabet, but for the first time in life the thought came to me with the suddenness of lightning, "Where is the scriptural authority for it?" I could not remember that I had ever heard a single passage of scripture quoted in its support, or defense. The shock was so great, and my mental agitation so intense, that it threw me into a fever. I went home sick.

It is one of my misfortunes that I have never had sense enough to "keep my counsel to myself." I have always had a habit of "thinking out loud." And when I thus began to express myself, my position in the Baptist Church began to grow "shaky," not to say precarious. Yet, I still held rigidly to the doctrine that immersion alone was baptism, and that with all its defects, the Baptist Church was the most scriptural and orthodox in its doctrines and practices of any church in existence.

The upshot of this whole matter was, that I was soon cited before my "church conference" to answer a charge of heresy, in holding to the doctrine of "open communion." I appeared and wanted to make a defense of my position before the church. I was vain and silly enough at that time to think if I could only make my argument before the church I would be able to convert a majority of the members to my views, and thus save myself and "reform" the church. But this I was not permitted to do. I was told I might answer either "guilty" or "not guilty," and no more. I refused to answer either way, unless I was further permitted to explain my answer. This was denied me. Whereupon, a motion was made to "withdraw fellowship from Brother Ashley"; and without debate or further ceremony, the motion was put, four persons voting Aye, and three, No, altho about forty members were present. And thus I went out of the Baptist Church, whereby my education for the ministry became automatically "finished," and all hope of my ministerial career blasted.

Strange as it may seem there was a sort of personal satisfaction in this. I had not entered the ministry as a pure matter of choice. While I did not shrink from it, but rather took it up joyously, it was because I felt it to be a duty divinely imposed upon me, and therefore an honor of which I was proud; and because it was the means thru which I might gratify my personal desire to be of some real use to God and humanity, in saving souls from the eternal burning.

But now I felt that I had fulfilled my part as far as I possibly could, and was denied the privilege of going further by the action of the church; and that thereafter the church, and not I, was responsible for any failure on my part to go on with the work of warning sinners to "flee from the wrath to come." I was a little like Jonah fleeing to Tarshish. I was rather secretly glad I had gotten away, and shifted the responsibility somewhere else.

But these impressions did not last long. My fundamental theology had not changed. The Bible was still an infallible divine revelation. Humanity was still lost, totally depraved, abiding under the "wrath of God"; hell was a reality towards which all humanity was bound; and the only means of escape was to "believe in the Lord Jesus Christ" according to the prescribed formula. The burden of my personal responsibility soon returned. I could not escape it. True, I was out of the church--the Baptist Church; but it seemed quite evident that God was using other agencies, outside the Baptist Church, for the salvation of souls, and seemed to be doing it quite successfully. If God could so use the Methodist Church for this purpose, why might not I? What did baptism amount to anyway? I was never taught that it was necessary to salvation. And if not, why make such a fuss about it? If a person was already saved, and it was only "an outward sign of an inward grace," what difference could it make how it was administered, who administered it, or whether it was administered at all?

For example, the baptism of so many thousands on the Day of Pentecost in Jerusalem, where the supply of water was very limited, and this all under the control of the enemies of the new religion. The immersion of so many, in so short a time and under such circumstances and conditions was next to a physical impossibility, while easily probable if done by sprinkling.

It is not necessary to go into any lengthy details concerning my work at this time, beyond the fact that I was fairly successful in it, and for the time being, I found it eminently satisfactory and fairly pleasant to myself. However, under the workings of the itinerant system, in a few years I found myself located in the state of Missouri, where I transferred my church relations to the St. Louis Conference of the M. E. Church. This change involved nothing but a matter of personal choice and convenience.

NEW VISIONS AND DISTURBANCES

But this is a digression. While I recognized some merit in nearly all the creeds, I firmly believed mine the best. My faith in, and devotion to the Methodist Church had become so intense that I believed the sum total of all theological knowledge was concentrated and embodied in John Wesley. There could be no more progress, no more discovery. It was a finished science, and John Wesley finished it. There are thousands who still think so, even to this day! I looked back over history to the days of apostolic purity, followed the trend of theological thought in its decline into error and superstition, thru the dark ages, to the first glimmer of light in Wickliffe, followed by Huss, until the flame of the Reformation sprang up in Luther, Zwingli and Calvin, followed by Knox and Arminius; but Wesley was the end of knowledge, and wisdom died with him.

In looking back over the period of years that have since intervened, I am still unable to perceive any selfish, egotistical motive in these my ambitions. My unquenchable thirst for knowledge was inspired solely by my desire to increase my efficiency in that vocation to which I sincerely believed I was divinely called.

Up to this time, and long afterwards, I had never read a book that might be called at all liberal in theology, much less anything of a sceptical character. In fact I had read nothing, outside of school text books, except such books as were authoritatively published by some Baptist or Methodist publishing house. Robert G. Ingersoll was then at the height of his fame, and I would not even read a political speech of his, because he was an "infidel." The strange anomaly of the whole thing is that I was led, or rather driven, clear out of the church into practical agnosticism thru and by my earnest and intense efforts to more strongly fortify and establish myself in my preconceived beliefs about the Bible and religion. This will appear more fully as we proceed.

First of all, all orthodox Christianity is based upon the doctrine that the Bible is the supernaturally inspired, infallible word of God. Upon this Bible as the sole authority, every doctrine, creed, dogma and ecclesiastical practice is based. Take away this doctrine of Biblical infallibility, and orthodoxy crumbles to dust. As long as it is held to be infallible truth, every creed in Christendom can find abundant material in it to prove every point it claims. Every one knows that among the many Christian denominations which fully agree with each other the Bible is an infallible revelation from God; yet the doctrines and conclusions they deduce from it are as diametrically opposed to each other as midnight and noon.

In the last year of my conference course of study, one of the books prescribed was "Harman's Introduction to the Study of the Holy Scriptures." Dr. Harman was Professor of Greek and Hebrew in Dickinson College. I was told that in this book I would find "completely detailed, uncontrovertible proofs of the divine authenticity, inspiration, and infallible truth of the Bible." This was just what I had long been looking for, and just how I found it will soon appear.

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