The best of the sermons Jesus ever preached was from a fisherman’s boat at the water’s edge to a multitude seated on the ground of the shore. He had no vestry into which to retire, no clerical garments, no ornamented pulpit, no pompous processions, no trained choir, no incense or perfumery, but an abundance of good things for the souls of men. He evidently was not a caterer to the sight or senses of the people, but aimed to reach their hearts with the truth.
Let any one read the advertisements of what is to occur in some of the big churches. No mention is made of the religious part, but of the selections from some famous operas, the performance of a brilliant mass, the presence of some noted opera singers, who, from the play houses on week days, take their parts in the churches on Sundays—are the main objects of attraction. The worship of God seems to be a secondary affair, as entirely unworthy of notice. The church busies itself with architecture, painted windows, vestments, surpliced choirs, splendid and impressive services, which appeal to the senses of the flesh, while it becomes dulled to the great pressing sins of the individual and the great wrongs of society.
Let there be museums, art galleries, opera houses and music halls, but there should be no mixing up of the services of God with the pleasures of the world, so that when a heathen like myself happens to go to church, he need not become confused and have to ask the guide if he has not come to the wrong place.
The inconsistency is not all, but the outrageous, sinful incongruity to an honest man, of all these forms and shows, is that the people taking part in them appear as if they were playing a sharp trick on the Almighty in trying to make Him believe they are worshiping Him, when all they are doing is to please themselves. This reminds me of the Romish priests in southern India substituting an image of the virgin for that of Krishna. When remonstrated with, the priests replied that the people did not know the difference, and the virgin would get all the worship. I cannot help thinking that there is no necessity for a man to be a trickster or a hypocrite, even if he be a Christian.
CHAPTER XXXII.
At last we were homeward bound, having “done” Europe, Turkey, Egypt, and seen various objects of interest in Bombay.
It gave me the greatest satisfaction that my wife was delighted with my home, our home. We had made many purchases, and for several months, as we were in no hurry to end this great pleasure, we were busy in unpacking and arranging our treasures. One of our chief delights was in the large stock of excellent books added to my already quite extensive library. I had always delighted in books, and those of the best authors on every variety of subjects. It is a gratification to find so many different views, even on the same subject, and one can appreciate the wise saying, “It is one of the special dispensations of an all-wise Providence that every plank has two sides, and that no man is able to see both sides at once.”
When in trouble enough to crush life out of me, I resorted to my library, and when despised and shunned by those around me I found never-failing friends and companions in my books, and pleasure in my flowers, so that I could well appreciate the beautiful lines of Lander:
“The flowers my guests, the birds my pensioners,
Books my companions and but few besides.”