FROM BONDAGE TO LIBERTY IN RELIGION
A RELIGIOUS AUTOBIOGRAPHY
CHAPTER I
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!