“I TRIED to be religious for three days, and became so thoroughly sick of it that I gave it up,” said a gay young officer once to me.
“I wonder that you tried for so long,” I replied.
“How so? “said he;” I thought you were religious too.”
“Yes,” I said, “but mine is not a religion of trying. It is, and has been for many happy years, one of trusting. An immense difference!”
My gay young friend had, no doubt, been sickened by sin. Gaiety, instead of satisfying, had nauseated his soul and burdened his conscience. The pleasures of sin (and they are admitted by the Bible itself) are not “only short-lived, but they leave their scar and stain behind them; so that, disgusted by the positive wretchedness they produce, the soul has recourse to religion in order to find, in its reputed comforts, the relief that its burden demands.
The pity is that such people do not first ask themselves, “What is religion?”
Now that is a fair question. The word “religion” means an adherence to certain rules; and the more strictly you adhere to these rules, the more religious you are. The world contains thousands of religions, ―that is, thousands of classified rules for the observance of the worshippers. These rules may be good or bad; they may be Christian or cannibal; they may be true or false; ―no matter, they form a religion; and obedience to them is the duty of the religionist. Such is the meaning of the word “religion.”
Then, does it follow that religion, as such, comforts the mourner, restores the fallen, or saves the sinner? Certainly not; it may but add to his misery. There may be a change of diet, so to speak, but it is only a change of poison. And if you observe the faces of people who are thus religious, you will see poison written on their every feature. They show the presence of an indwelling bondage. They are enslaved. Yes, the Bible speaks of the “pleasures of sin,” but never of the “pleasures of religion.” Never! In fact it is a question whether the devil may not lead more to hell by the regulated road of “religion,” than he does by the slimy slough of sin.
“Sick of religion,” after three days’ fair trial! Most intelligible! Looked at from this point of view, three days was a long period for a wild young spirit to remain in fetters, for fetters they were.
“Legion” tried the same, and added to his chains a good deal of penance beside; he cut himself with stones; he cried day and night in the mountains and tombs, and was one of the most miserable men on earth.
The fact is that “religion” is not the secret. Well, can it lie in infidelity? Would the throwing up of the whole thing, and disbelieving the existence of God, and judgment, and hell, not cause relief to the conscience? No! Infidelity is but a cold negation, and signally fails to meet the sob of the poor, distracted, sin laden bosom, or brighten the clouded heart of fallen man. No, neither Rome with her superstitions, nor Rationalism, with its addition and subtraction sums, is able to comfort the soul that has learned its own deep depravity. Sin cannot thus be cleansed away.
Ah! what yonder prodigal wanted, as he lay destitute and friendless by the swine-trough of sin, was a friend, a heart, a hand of pardoning mercy.
Oh! did such exist? A FATHER!! Granted that, and all would be well. We remember the lovely story as it fell from the lips of Jesus, the Friend of Sinners―how, with a father’s kiss on his brow, and arms of love thrown around his sin-worn shoulders, the repentant prodigal poured out, by willing constraint, all the dreary tale, and how forgiveness was followed by the robe, and ring, and sandals, and the fatted calf, and the glad hospitality of the father’s love, and how they began to be merry!
Merriment! Yes, endless joy! Every want supplied, and every craving met. Three days of this, and the merriment continued. Mercy and merriment are a standing contrast to rules and wretchedness. The Jaw passes a curse. Grace, reigning through righteousness, creates everlasting joy. The prodigal was never “sick” of this “religion”! Never!
You may call Christianity a “religion” if you please, and say that it has rules and commandments too; but it tells of a Father, who loves; of a Saviour, who died and rose; of a Spirit, who dwells within the believer, filling him with joy and peace.
This is life and liberty!
Let me urge you, dear reader, to “rise and come to the FATHER.” “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten, Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:1616For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. (John 3:16)) J. W. S.