Common Sense Applied to Religion; Or, The Bible and the People

by Catharine Esther Beecher

I wish now to ask my theological friends to consider the character of my inner life. In all outward manifestations I took the theory of religion trained into me, and did my best to believe it, and talked, and wrote, and prayed, and acted before others on the assumption of its truth. But my inner life was after this fashion: as to prayer in private, I found great comfort in the preface to the Lord's prayer, "After this manner pray ye." It was a short, comprehensive prayer, which amounted to this, that God's will might be done on earth as in heaven; that our temporal wants might be supplied; that we might do right and escape evil. This I could sincerely feel and pray when all details distressed me. But, still better, this prayer began, "Our Father." Now to me, through my whole life, this word "father" had been associated with unparalleled tenderness, sympathy, and love; with truth, justice, and all that was lovable. I could not apply it to God without such associations, and so it comforted me—and that was all. But the prayers, hymns, and sermons conformed to the theory of religion were occasions when I had to struggle with feelings of disgust and abhorrence. Especially, at times, was this so in reference to the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ, until I formed a curious mental habit of letting these things pass through my mind as something I did not understand, and then there seemed to flow in a vague impression of something better, I knew not what.

In the progress of years I came to instruct some of the most vigorous and active minds I ever saw, both in mental science and in the interpretation of the Bible, and thus gradually evolved and applied "the principles of reason and rules of interpretation" in this work. The results will mainly appear in what follows.

Up to this time, my feelings toward God (except sometimes when praying, as above described) were that, as He has said he was wise, and just, and good, I would take his word for it, in spite of all the evidence to the contrary, and feel and act as he required as far as I had power. My service, however, was much like that of a slave to a hard master. If "the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom," I certainly began aright.

But the whole force of my being was turned, not toward Him, but toward my lost, and suffering, and darkened fellow-beings. And when all my darkness was removed, and by a simple intellectual process of argumentation I drew from His Holy Word all my soul had longed for, my chief joy was, not that I was safe, not that I could feel emotions of love to Him, but that He felt as I did for this all-absorbing purpose and end of my existence—to save my fellow-men.

Some minds seem to begin religious life with such emotions of love to the Creator as makes it easy to carry out the purpose to obey him. In my case, I began with the cool intellectual purpose to obey him, while it was love, not to Him, but to my fellow-men, that made it easy to carry out this purpose of obedience. But, in both cases, was it not the spirit of obedience that was the grand requisite? The all-controlling purpose of acting right, by obeying all the laws of the Creator as discovered by the light of Nature, or by His revealed Word—is not this the distinctive feature that marks the "regenerated" soul?

It is theological theories, forced on mankind through popes, emperors, and church councils, by pains and penalties, which has mystified that grand question of life, "What must we do to be saved?" so that the answer to almost every other practical question is more clear than this. What do the great masses of men suppose that they themselves are to do if ever they become "regenerated?" Multitudes imagine that, by going to camp-meetings, or conference meetings, or in "revivals," some Divine efflux will come over them, of which the chief evidence is that the mind is filled with joy, or other delightful emotions. Others deem it a mysterious change, that takes place sometimes in sleep, without any voluntary act of the individual. Others suppose it to consist in certain emotions or mental acts, in reference to Jesus Christ, that come by divine influence. Others consider it an act of the intellect and will, of which emotions may be the preceding state, or may follow as a result. Probably the vast majority regard it as a mysterious indescribable event, that no one can understand till it is experienced, and which can not be made intelligible to an "unrenewed mind."

Thousands of excellent, conscientious persons are moving about with dark minds and heavy hearts, who would instantly become happy and consistent followers of Christ if these theories could be removed from their minds, and they were sure that an earnest spirit of obedience to Jesus Christ is what is required; to which the promises of hope and encouragement are made; which is the highest evidence of regeneration, and the chief feature of that "love to God" required; while all emotions, frames, and feelings are nothing without it. Thousands of children and young persons, religiously trained, are held back from a religious life because it is conceived of as so mysterious, uninviting, and painful that they can neither understand or desire it. At the same time, it is true that, after children have been trained wrong, so that bad habits of mind are dominant, the clear understanding of this subject will not, in many cases, make it easy for them to commence a religious life, or make it look desirable.

The fearful sanctions of eternity can not very directly be brought to bear on the minds of young children without great risk of entirely false impressions. We see, in the Old Testament, that when God was training a race, in the infancy of its development He made visible appearances, used temporal motives, and made no appeals to the sanctions of the invisible world. Like the parents just referred to, his first aim seemed to be to teach habits of obedience to God's temporal laws, while, at the same time, He displayed his sympathy, mercy, and love. And among his ancient people men became his obedient children by just such training as is now best fitted to young children.

But when the race was farther advanced, so as to be able to act more by reason and on general principles, and when His religion, by new motives and forces, was to be extended from one nation to all the world, then the Creator came himself; and while disclosing those most terrific sanctions of the invisible world, at the same time exhibited such a manifestation of His pity, sympathy, and self-sacrificing love as renders these terrors safe and effective in such a conjuncture, as they would not be without.

With these two classes of motives thus intensified, such a moral power has been generated, leading to self-denying efforts to educate and save mankind, as never existed before. In the case of the writer, the power of these terrible sanctions alone has been illustrated. In other cases, the power of Christ's love and example have been the leading motives. It is the union of both, clearly appreciated, and especially brought to bear on those who form the character of childhood and youth, that eventually is to renew the whole race, and bring every human being to perfect obedience to all the laws of the Creator.