We want to call attention again to a truth often overlooked: the Devil and demons are never satisfied in a disembodied state; when they cannot enter the souls of men, they seek something else. They will enter a swine when there is nothing better available. We believe “the prince of the air” can wield a powerful influence, unincarnated, in the air, but he schemes and works best when he can possess and direct intelligent flesh and blood.
Just now the machinery of the Church and all the auxiliaries are devoting their energies to various branches of social service; this is good, Christlike, and necessary; the point we raise, germane to this subject, is not the work, but the abuse of the idea: social service and humanitarianism are not religion. They are the fruits of the Good Samaritan spirit in the world, but they cannot take the place of personal relationship to God. “Though I give my body to be burned, and all my goods to feed the poor,” says Paul, “it profiteth me nothing” without love—divine love. The angel-of-light gospel places the emphasis on works without faith. Love the world, enjoy its lusts and allurements, disregard all Puritanic ideals of life, be a part of all worldliness—but be kind, cheerful, optimistic, generous, benevolent: help humanity. “Pay the fiddler,” then dance as you please. Do penance when your conscience lashes you; but buy indulgences by works of supererogation. “On with the dance, let joy be unconfined.”
A concrete example will illustrate the proposition before us, and also reveal the power of polished, cultured emissary of “sunshine and smiles.” The little city had a population of about fifteen hundred people; there were four churches of nearly equal strength. Each congregation had a large flourishing organization of young people. Scarcely any worldliness obtained—dancing and card playing rarely ever. The pious, consecrated young people attracted no little attention. Finally there came to the place a young woman fresh from college and conservatory as teacher of music and delsarte. She was an adept at all the niceties of modern society; things took on new colour at once. The work began with a literary club, then cards, then the dance. She was beautiful and magnetic; in six months the “stupid meetin’s” of the League and Christian Endeavour were abandoned for things more exhilarating. The religious foundation which had been crystallizing for years among the simple hearted boys and girls gave place to the gayeties imported from the classic circles of city and college life. She moved among them “an angel of light.”
X
THE SOWER OF TARES
“The kingdom of heaven is like a man that sowed good seed in his field: but while men slept, his enemy came and sowed tares among the wheat and went away.”—Matthew xiii. 24-25.
“The field is the world; the good seed are the children of the kingdom; but the tares are the children of the wicked one; the enemy that sowed them is the devil.”—Matthew xiii. 38-39.
The parable of the Sower is one of common-sense appeal; the sensible farmer sows only good seed. The growing of tares among the wheat is not in the original plan. Good seed were sown, but behold the tares! Whence came they? While the servants slept an Enemy came and sowed them. The Master gives us His own interpretation: He is the sower—the good seed are the children of the kingdom, men and women into whose hearts the Truth has entered—the converted part of the Church. The sleeping of the servants is the unwatchfulness of the Church: coldness, indifference, backslidden. The Enemy seizes the opportunity—the carelessness of Christ’s servants—and sows bad seed. The enemy is the Devil—the Wicked One; the bad seed are the children of the Devil. Growing side by side in this world-field are the children of God and the children of the Devil.