What and Where is God? A Human Answer to the Deep Religious Cry of the Modern Soul

by Richard La Rue Swain

Like many others, I was brought up to be honest and hard-working from the beginning. According to ordinary standards, I was living as I should. Yet when I heard of college, and had hopes of going to one, a subtle change came over my whole life. While the old duties were performed in the old way, at the same time a complete revolution was taking place within me. The imagination and will readjusted everything to the new and larger sphere for which I hoped. Since no one thus far had gone to college from our frontier community, some of the neighbors thought me to be a foolish dreamer. What good would it do me anyway, was what they wanted to know, since I was already good in "figgers"? When I was probably fourteen years old, a young man told me of some one in another township who was going to study Algebra. "What is that?" I asked. "Well," he said, "it is something like Arithmetic, only they use letters instead of figures." "Now that," I promptly told him, "sounds foolish. Why aren't figures good enough?" "Ah," said the young man's father, "Algebra is a mighty fine study! You have noticed that merchants mark the price of their goods with letters. Now if you know Algebra they can't cheat you." So I made up my mind then and there that I would study Algebra.

My first experience with college catalogues, which came a little later, was both interesting and amusing. I had often wondered what there could possibly be to study beyond history, geography, and the three "R's." But at last with a college catalogue in my hands here it was: De Amicitia, De Corona, Trigonometry, etc. After reading pages of unheard-of and unpronounceable words, I scarcely knew whether it was about something to eat or something to wear. Theological terms seemed plain English by comparison. In those primitive days it took one more year of preparation to enter the classical course than it did the scientific. For that reason alone I promptly decided to take the classical. Although I knew nothing of what either course was really about or what it was good for, yet I did not want to bear the stigma of any short cut. I wanted to learn it "all."

Though it did not take long to learn what the college course was about, yet it did take some good faithful application to prepare for entrance examinations.

Many people take their religion as some lazy boys—found in every high school—take their education. These boys have a very light regard for college requirements. John is certain that he is as good a student as Charles or a half dozen other fellows. He emphasizes the fact that a "grind" like James is the most unpopular fellow in school. All suggestions of future trouble fall on deaf ears. Every year train loads of these fellows go to take their entrance "exams." Yes, they arrive at heaven, or college, and may chance to see the lord of the institution. But some one calls them in to test their Latin eyesight, and another to determine their mathematical vision, and if their power of penetration is not sufficient for college subjects, back they go. This is a tragic experience for the lads, to be sure, yet they must learn that promotion means fitness. I have known of young men entering the academy of the college town because they were ashamed to go back home. They were good fellows, but they lacked college fitness. Think of a good sensible fellow who has never studied arithmetic going to college! And then think of a good sort of person going to heaven who has never acquired the spiritual insight to know God! A man in college who is mathematically blind, and a man in heaven who is God blind! If one thinks of God as a visible Ghost in heaven, he will overlook many of the essentials until the pitiful disillusionment comes. And if he thinks of the future home as a doll's heaven, he will make no thorough preparation for entrance. When a young girl was once lured to a very superstitious church, a friend said to me:

"Well, what difference does it make—we are all going to the same place." But when I asked her if she would be willing to send her daughter to a poor day school or to some wretched music teacher, she had never thought but what that was different. Everything but religion must be properly taught; how that is taught does not matter, "because we all are going to the same place." On that basis, if all were going to live in New York City, I suppose it would make no difference what kind of superstition they were taught. The expectation of joining a higher and holier society after this life cuts as deeply into my present life plans and purposes as did the expectation of going to college when I was a frontier lad. No matter how upright and industrious one is in the ordinary affairs of life, take away the hope of college or the hope of a future life, and it makes a difference at a thousand vital points.

I once intercepted a stone mason who was building a wall where the specifications called for a window. He was not at all inclined to be convinced of his error. After reading the specifications again he said, "I am right." "But," I replied, "you are confused as to directions." Then he appealed to a weather vane on a near-by steeple. When I informed him that the church had been moved and that the points of the compass were entirely wrong, he pulled down the wall that he had so perfectly built. He did not ask what difference it made so long as he was doing a good piece of masonry. He was glad to get the wall down before the superintendent saw it.

If, now, we go on the assumption that God has no plans in what He is building, then we must conclude that He is the most ridiculous person that ever went into the construction business. The shock of disillusionment when it comes, as it is bound to do, will be tremendous.

It is one of my greatest sorrows that so many of my friends are building solid masonry in their lives where God's specifications call for windows; and windows where there should be solid masonry. The windows in the life of Jesus all looked out on the side of love and eternity. The light of a heavenly kingdom was always streaming into His soul.

We make the same mistake in building our cities and social institutions. They but vaguely represent the human temple called for in God's specifications. And the farther we depart from the plan the more difficult it will be to return to it. Paul told some of the people of his day that they might escape with their lives as from a burning building, but that what they had built contrary to the divine pattern would be reduced to ashes.

I once knew a merchant who had twenty acres of new land broken and planted with onion sets. A temporary house was built to care for a dozen or more workmen. The ground was pulverized to ashes, the onions were planted, and the weeds were kept down so that none ever appeared from the road. It was a fine piece of work. The men toiled, the onions grew and finally blossomed, and the field presented an attractive sight. But alas! the merchant had purchased winter-onion sets, and in all that field there was not one bulb to reward him for his pains. What difference did it make—he and his men surely did some good work?