"Thou hast made us for thyself, and our hearts are restless till they rest in thee," wrote a saint of old who himself had at one time tasted all the bitterness of being without God in the world. Man is peculiar in this respect, that he was made for God, and can never be happy without God. The human will shall never work its possessor any good or bring any satisfaction till it is sunk into unison with God's will; the outreaching tendrils of man's affections shall never find true hold until they entwine themselves around God; the eye shall never be [116] satisfied with seeing, nor the ear with hearing, till we see and know God.

      It is for this reason that our God is a jealous God. His jealousy is not based upon selfishness, as ours. What glory can we add to him? What advantage is it to him if we obey him and praise his name? What profit does he derive from our service and worship? For he is not "served by men's hands, as though he needed anything," seeing it is he who "giveth to all life, and breath, and all things." Why, then, is he jealous of our affections and worship and service? For our sakes simply. He loves us. His anger burns when he sees men turn away from him, the true God and the only fount of light and happiness, unto false gods and consequently darkness and destruction.

      See what idolatry has done for men. Read in your Bible, and in ancient history, of the human cruelties, of the incredible licentiousness, the abysmal moral degradation, the heartrending miseries that cursed the lives of the idolaters, and you will find why God hates idolatry. Read the first chapter of Romans. Is it overdrawn? By no means. Even today the missionaries of India are accused of interpolating the first chapter of Romans into their Bibles so as to have a text against the prevailing religion, which is a full admission that they found their own lives and works fairly described there.

      When we compare the state of morals and human happiness and welfare in this country with that of heathen countries, we can begin to appreciate the benefit of the word of God. This is not a Christian country. There are no Christian countries. But there are a few Christians in this country, and the Bible has been so widely circulated and read that to some extent public opinion, public morals, and the laws of the land have been affected by it. That is what makes the difference between heathen [117] lands and "Christian," and the respective conditions of the peoples.

      Aside from all question of the soul's salvation, no greater benefit can come to a nation than the breaking in of God's light upon them. "What advantage, then, hath the Jew," asks the objector, "if he is rejected for his disobedience along with the Gentiles?" "Much in every way," Paul replies; "chiefly that unto them were committed the oracles of God." This in any case is a blessing and a glory to any people. The hardened conscience stands aghast at the enormities practiced; the hard heart would melt at the dreariness, suffering and despair hidden beneath the name of heathenism; and the gospel is the only remedy.

      Look now, from a religious view, at the vain struggle of individuals here and there to free themselves from their fetters of brass and iron; their longing for peace; their pathetic groping after light. Here is a man whose conscience is awakened. The law written in his heart condemns him utterly; his conscience judges him. His life is a burden; and the hereafter--if his thoughts have been taught to stray that far--holds no hope. What shall he do? He brings a sacrifice. It does not avail. He realizes the emptiness of the performance. The heart will not be put off with it. He begins on himself. That is better. It brings some relief. It seems like a satisfaction to the outraged sense of justice. He fasts, cuts himself, cudgels himself, torments himself, shuts himself off into silence and solitude. But peace is not thus easily bought. When he rests and the self-inflicted sufferings cease, the sin and the condemnation return. He must go on, on, on. He has not suffered enough, His tortures have not yet counterbalanced his sin. So his life wears away in distress. Oh, for some one to teach him of a Friend mighty to save; of the spotless Lamb of [118] God, and how God has "laid upon him the iniquities of us all."

      See that Hindoo devotee, hopeless resignation written upon his countenance. Ask him what is the chief end of man. With a sad look he answers: "Cutting the eighty-four." What does he mean? The "eighty-four" are "laps" of birth. A "lap" is a hundred thousand. By and by you learn the astonishing doctrine, child of the soul's despair, that every man must pass through existence eight million four hundred thousand times--be born that many times, and die that many times. Each one of these lifetimes is clouded with suffering and woe. As one of their sages put it:

      Says a missionary in Record of Christian Work: "In India you will see, especially at the time of the great festivals, myriads of men and women going on pilgrimages, dragging their weary feet over the hot plains, some of them literally crawling on their hands and knees on the burning sands, measuring their distance with the length of their bodies, and prostrating themselves with their heads upon the earth. They draw a line in the dust with their finger, and then planting their feet upon that line, prostrate themselves again and continue those prostrations for days and sometimes for months. In South India I have seen them again and again making the circuit of holy mountains in this manner, and they make the circuit one hundred and eight times, traveling many a weary mile. Others make a vow to hold their arms up in the air until the arm becomes stiff and rigid and the [119] fingernails have grown to the length of four or five inches. Others lie out on rocks, exposed to sun and wind and rain, summer and winter, day and night. The object of all this is to cut short 'the eighty-four' and obtain salvation. These things seem to you awful, but they are nothing compared with what took place in India less than sixty years ago, when infants were sacrificed to Gunga, when pilgrims threw themselves from precipices, and widows cast themselves alive upon the funeral pyre of their dead husbands. And these very things would be taking place in India today were it not for the firm hand of the British government and the increasing power of Christian sentiment there. Hindooism is cruel; it is a devouring monster that takes from the body of every Hindoo--poor, weak, lean though he may be--its pound of quivering flesh."

      And when this "salvation" they so earnestly toil and suffer for is examined, its blessedness is found to consist in simple annihilation--extinction of being; reabsorption into the infinite, into the everything (or nothing, which is the same). This is the Nirvana, the blessed goal to which they hope to attain; the glorious privilege of non-existence, of rest in nothingness, to be forever let alone by conscience, terrors, pain, and by their monstrous gods.

      Blessed hope, even at that! For who could endure forever the curse of such benighted life? But oh, that some one had been able to show them the true hope in Jesus Christ, and the vision of the city that cometh down "as a bride adorned for her husband"; where they hunger no more nor thirst any more'; where "there shall be no curse any more: and the throne of God and the Lamb shall be therein; and his servants shall serve him; and they shall see his face; and his name shall be on their foreheads"; and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes. Truly it is life eternal to know the only true God and Jesus Christ whom he has sent!

      Much more could be said to impress the pitiable condition of the heathen life. But this suffices to show that Christianity is a blessing even in temporal existence, and does greatly alleviate the condition of those to whom it comes. Yet, after all, that is a side issue. What about the world to come? What, does eternity hold for the idolater? Besides this all other concern becomes insignificant. It is inconceivable that there should be a Christianity that cares only for self--salvation for self, heaven for self, glory and blessing for self--and coldly sees other men go down into darkness. That is not only unchristian, but antichristian. It is proof positive of the utter absence of any thing like a Christlike disposition. It is in its essence, as all other selfishness, of the nature of Satan. It is the old enemy of souls, the Deceiver, who, taking advantage of the natural sophistry of selfishness, suggests such quibbles as, "Am I my brother's keeper?" and "Who is my neighbor?" and "There are enough heathens around us," and "Those heathens will be saved on their ignorance," etc. I write this, not to condemn you who have such arguments, but to open your eyes as to their real source. The man devoted to "saving the heathen around him" is usually the man whose prayers [121] and money and help extend to the benighted peoples far away. The Christ-like mind that impels him to take interest in those near him also constrains him for those greater sufferers of Satan's oppression in far countries. Whereas he who excuses himself from helping them on the pretext that there are so many home heathens, will be found doing next to nothing for those at home. For the same selfish indifference that deadens his heart towards the one does the same toward the other; and the same unwillingness that seeks for an excuse in the one case will not fail to find one to suit the other. Such a man gives evidence that he himself is not in a saved condition. He certainly bears no likeness to Him who gave himself up as a ransom for the many.

      And what about that very common argument that God will save the heathen on their ignorance? I believe that it is Ruskin that calls attention to the fact that the Turk habitually exclaims, "God is good!" when he means nothing more than "I am lazy." Is is only the Turk who does that? That is a peculiar way, indeed, of casting one's burden upon the Lord and finding "rest." How deceitful is the carnal heart!

      Admit that the heathen are saved on their ignorance--that is God's concern. What about our obligation, the debt of love we owe to all men for Christ's sake, and the fulfilling of the charge God has left us? No matter what God is going to do with the heathen--have you been faithful to God's commission? The matter begins to look different when seen in this light. Now, in the next place, whence comes that strange doctrine, that people are saved on the ground of their ignorance? From the Bible? If you have studied the Book only a little, you must have noticed that ignorance is exactly the thing that ruins and damns people. True that Christ says it shall be more tolerable in the day of judgment for Tyre and [122] Sidon and Sodom and Gomorrah, who had less light, than for Capernaum and other cities where his mighty works were done and his invitations and warnings fell on deaf ears. But that makes it worse for the latter, not better for the former. Infer, if you choose, where little is given little is required--that is not salvation on ignorance. That "little" is required. What if they have fallen short of that? Who shall then save them? And then it remains on the other hand, that where much is given much is required. One thing that God requires of us is that we send forth to others the light he has bestowed upon us.

      There is no use in discussing whether the heathens that have had no chance at all shall be damned. It is no time to speculate. It is for us to give them the chance. Wherever the gospel goes souls are saved, men are helped temporally and eternally. Where it does not go they must miss an immeasurable advantage which, but for our ingratitude toward God and lovelessness toward men, they might have had. It is enough.

      What shall we do? Go to the heathen and preach to them the unsearchable riches. That is the first thought. "But I cannot?" Are you sure of that? Or do you mean it would be inconvenient, or bad pay, or that it would upset some of your earthly hopes and plans? Have you ever offered yourself to God to do as he pleases? It may be in your particular case he does not want you to go. He may need you and want you elsewhere. "How shall I know?" Have you ever surrendered yourself entirely into God's hands, wholly, truly, without hypocrisy, without reserve? This do, and he will use you. He will lead you step by step, and will make it clear to you in his own [123] way, so that you need not fear or doubt. Neither need you tremble at God's will. It is the best, sweetest, and kindest government in the world; for God is entirely unselfish and will do for your welfare and blessing also, as well as through you for others.

      But say you can not go. Then what? Pray for the work. "The supplication of a righteous man availeth much in its working." You can be an actual, real helper in the work by your prayers. Do not stop with that. If you belong to God, so does your money. Give freely to the work done among dying souls in Christ's name. It is your duty. It is more than that. May God so fill us with the love of Christ and constrain us that we may forget and lose the word "duty" in that greater word "love."

      (1916)

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