From Bondage to Liberty in Religion: A Spiritual Autobiography

by George T. Ashley

On the day that I was twelve years old a little incident occurred that so indelibly stamped itself on my mind, and so changed the course of my thoughts thereafter, that it is necessary to mention it. I was proud I had reached that stage of life. I was boasting of it to a hired man, with whom I was doing an errand, informing him that I was now "more than half a man," and that in nine more years I would be a man, when "I could do as I pleased." He informed me that, after all, it was not a thing to be so proud of; that I had that day reached "the age of accountability"; that on that day I became personally responsible to God for my sins; that if I had died before that day I would have been saved from hell by God's free grace, because of my infancy; but that from that day on, I must account to God for myself; and that it would be necessary for me to repent, and pray daily for the forgiveness of my sins, lest I die and fall into the "bottomless pit" for all eternity. This was news to me. I had never heard of before. It produced a profound sensation in my thought; and to say it seriously troubled me is to put it mildly. As soon as my errand was done I went to my mother with it. She confirmed it. Then I sincerely wished I had died before I reached that fateful day.

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.

To be frank, I was not conscious of any sin. I had tried to be a good boy; I was obedient to my parents, and did no evil to any one that I was aware of. True, I made childish mistakes every day, as all children do. But I could not recognize that I had been personally sinful against God. I knew I had not meant to be. Then they told me that I was born a sinner! That when Adam ate the "forbidden fruit" it made every person that was ever born into the world thereafter, a sinner by nature; and I would have to repent of this sin, as well as all that I ever committed, if I ever expected to escape the lake of fire and brimstone "where the worm dieth not and the fire is not quenched." My whole nature, even as a child, revolted against the injustice of thus making me responsible for, and punishing me for something some one else did thousands of years ago; but I had no remedy and had to take it and prepare to repent of Adam's sin.

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.

First, the Baptist Church is just as exclusive in its claim to being the only true, scriptural, orthodox, apostolic Church as are the Catholics, Episcopalians, or any other Christian body. But this applies only to their ecclesiastical organization, and not to the character of its membership.

Second, it does not hold that baptism is essential to salvation, but that it is to church membership. They do not baptize people to make them Christians; but because they recognize them as already being Christians, thru repentance, faith in Christ, and the regeneration of the Holy Spirit. Thus, they recognize the true Christian character of any and all others who furnish evidence of these fundamental characteristics of a Christian life, tho they do not recognize them as "church members," no matter to what other ecclesiastical organization they may belong. These statements are necessary to understand what follows.

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.