"There is no darkness but ignorance."
Let us flood the world with intellectual light.
A THANKSGIVING SERMON.
MANY ages ago our fathers were living in dens and caves. Their bodies, their low foreheads, were covered with hair. They were eating berries, roots, bark and vermin. They were fond of snakes and raw fish. They discovered fire and, probably by accident, learned how to cause it by friction. They found how to warm themselves--to fight the frost and storm. They fashioned clubs and rude weapons of stone with which they killed the larger beasts and now and then each other. Slowly, painfully, almost imperceptibly they advanced. They crawled and stumbled, staggered and struggled toward the light. To them the world was unknown. On every hand was the mysterious, the sinister, the hurtful. The forests were filled with monsters, and the darkness was crowded with ghosts, devils, and fiendish gods.
These poor wretches were the slaves of fear, the sport of dreams.
Now and then, one rose a little above his fellows--used his senses--the little reason that he had--found something new--some better way. Then the people killed him and afterward knelt with reverence at his grave.
Then another thinker gave his thought--was murdered--another tomb became sacred--another step was taken in advance. And so through countless years of ignorance and cruelty--of thought and crime--of murder and worship, of heroism, suffering, and self-denial, the race has reached the heights where now we stand.
Looking back over the long and devious roads that lie between the barbarism of the past and the civilization of to-day, thinking of the centuries that rolled like waves between these distant shores, we can form some idea of what our fathers suffered--of the mistakes they made--some idea of their ignorance, their stupidity--and some idea of their sense, their goodness, their heroism.
It is a long road from the savage to the scientist--from a den to a mansion--from leaves to clothes--from a flickering rush to the arc-light--from a hammer of stone to the modern mill--a long distance from the pipe of Pan to the violin--to the orchestra--from a floating log to the steamship--from a sickle to a reaper--from a flail to a threshing machine---from a crooked stick to a plow--from a spinning wheel to a spinning jenny--from a hand loom to a Jacquard--a Jacquard that weaves fair forms and wondrous flowers beyond Arachne's utmost dream--from a few hieroglyphics on the skins of beasts--on bricks of clay--to a printing press, to a library--a long distance from the messenger, traveling on foot, to the electric spark--from knives and tools of stone to those of steel--a long distance from sand to telescopes--from echo to the phonograph, the phonograph that buries in indented lines and dots the sounds of living speech, and then gives back to life the very words and voices of the dead--a long way from the trumpet to the telephone, the telephone that transports speech as swift as thought and drops the words, perfect as minted coins, in listening ears--a long way from a fallen tree to the suspension bridge--from the dried sinews of beasts to the cables of steel--from the oar to the propeller--from the sling to the rifle--from the catapult to the cannon--a long distance from revenge to law--from the club to the Legislature--from slavery to freedom--from appearance to fact--from fear to reason.
And yet the distance has been traveled by the human race. Countless obstructions have been overcome--numberless enemies have been conquered--thousands and thousands of victories have been won for the right, and millions have lived, labored and died for their fellow-men.
For the blessings we enjoy--for the happiness that is ours, we ought to be grateful. Our hearts should blossom with thankfulness.
Whom, what, should we thank?
Let us be honest--generous.
Should we thank the church?
Christianity has controlled Christendom for at least fifteen hundred years.
During these centuries what have the orthodox churches accomplished, for the good of man?
In this life man needs raiment and roof, food and fuel. He must be protected from heat and cold, from snow and storm. He must take thought for the morrow. In the summer of youth he must prepare for the winter of age. He must know something of the causes of disease--of the conditions of health. If possible he must conquer pain, increase happiness and lengthen life. He must supply the wants of the body--and feed the hunger of the mind.
What good has the church done?
Has it taught men to cultivate the earth? to build homes? to weave cloth to cure or prevent disease? to build ships, to navigate the seas? to conquer pain, or to lengthen life?
Did Christ or any of his apostles add to the sum of useful knowledge?
Did they say one word in favor of any science, of any art? Did they teach their fellow-men how to make a living, how to overcome the obstructions of nature, how to prevent sickness--how to protect themselves from pain, from famine, from misery and rags?
Did they explain any of the phenomena of nature? any of the facts that affect the life of man? Did they say anything in favor of investigation--of study--of thought? Did they teach the gospel of self-reliance, of industry--of honest effort? Can any farmer, mechanic, or scientist find in the New Testament one useful fact? Is there anything in the sacred book that can help the geologist, the astronomer, the biologist, the physician, the inventor--the manufacturer of any useful thing?
What has the church done?
From the very first it taught the vanity--the worthlessness of all earthly things. It taught the wickedness of wealth, the blessedness of poverty. It taught that the business of this life was to prepare for death. It insisted that a certain belief was necessary to insure salvation, and that all who failed to believe, or doubted in the least would suffer eternal pain. According to the church the natural desires, ambitions and passions of man were all wicked and depraved.
To love God, to practice self-denial, to overcome desire, to despise wealth, to hate prosperity, to desert wife and children, to live on roots and berries, to repeat prayers, to wear rags, to live in filth, and drive love from the heart--these, for centuries, were the highest and most perfect virtues, and those who practiced them were saints.
The saints did not assist their fellow-men. Their fellow-men assisted them. They did not labor for others. They were beggars--parasites--vermin. They were insane. They followed the teachings of Christ. They took no thought for the morrow. They mutilated their bodies--scarred their flesh and destroyed their minds for the sake of happiness in another world. During the journey of life they kept their eyes on the grave. They gathered no flowers by the way--they walked in the dust of the road--avoided the green fields. Their moans made all the music they wished to hear. The babble of brooks, the songs of birds, the laughter of children, were nothing to them. Pleasure was the child of sin, and the happy needed a change of heart. They were sinless and miserable--but they had faith--they were pious and wretched--but they were limping towards heaven.
What has the church done?
It has denounced pride and luxury--all things that adorn and enrich life--all the pleasures of sense--the ecstasies of love--the happiness of the hearth--the clasp and kiss of wife and child.
And the church has done this because it regarded this life as a period of probation--a time to prepare--to become spiritual--to overcome the natural--to fix the affections on the invisible--to become passionless--to subdue the flesh--to congeal the blood--to fold the wings of fancy--to become dead to the world--so that when you appeared before God you would be the exact opposite of what he made you.
What has the church done?
It pretended to have a revelation from God. It knew the road to eternal joy, the way to death. It preached salvation by faith, and declared that only orthodox believers could become angels, and all doubters would be damned. It knew this, and so knowing it became the enemy of discussion, of investigation, of thought. Why investigate, why discuss, why think when you know? It sought to enslave the world. It appealed to force.
It unsheathed the sword, lighted the fagot, forged the chain, built the dungeon, erected the scaffold, invented and used the instruments of torture. It branded, maimed and mutilated--it imprisoned and tortured--it blinded and burned, hanged and crucified, and utterly destroyed millions and millions of human beings. It touched every nerve of the body--produced every pain that can be felt, every agony that can be endured.
And it did all this to preserve what it called the truth--to destroy heresy and doubt, and to save, if possible, the souls of a few. It was honest. It was necessary to prevent the development of the brain--to arrest all progress--and to do this the church used all its power. If men were allowed to think and express their thoughts they would fill their minds and the minds of others with doubts. If they were allowed to think they would investigate, and then they might contradict the creed, dispute the words of priests and defy the church. The priests cried to the people: "It is for us to talk. It is for you to hear. Our duty is to preach and yours is to believe."
What has the church done?
There have been thousands of councils and synods--thousands and thousands of occasions when the clergy have met and discussed and quarreled--when pope and cardinals, bishops and priests have added to or explained their creeds--and denied the rights of others. What useful truth did they discover? What fact did they find? Did they add to the intellectual wealth of the world? Did they increase the sum of knowledge?
I admit that they looked over a number of Jewish books and picked out the ones that Jehovah wrote.
Did they find the medicinal virtue that dwells in any weed or flower?
I know that they decided that the Holy Ghost was not created--not begotten--but that he proceeded.
Did they teach us the mysteries of the metals and how to purify the ores in furnace flames?
They shouted: "Great is the mystery of Godliness."
Did they show us how to improve our condition in this world?
They informed us that Christ had two natures and two wills.
Did they give us even a hint as to any useful thing?
They gave us predestination, foreordination and just enough "free will"
to go to hell.
Did they discover or show us how to produce anything for food?
Did they produce anything to satisfy the hunger of man?
Instead of this they discovered that a peasant girl who lived in Palestine, was the mother of God. This they proved by a book, and to make the book evidence they called it inspired.
Did they tell us anything about chemistry--how to combine and separate substances--how to subtract the hurtful--how to produce the useful?
They told us that bread, by making certain motions and mumbling certain prayers, could be changed into the flesh of God, and that in the same way wine could be changed to his blood. And this, notwithstanding the fact that God never had any flesh or blood, but has always been a spirit without body, parts or passions.
What has the church done?