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THE
AWAKENING
If
you'd live a religion that's noble,
That's God-like and true,
A religion the grandest that men
Or that angels can,
Then live, live the truth
Of the brother who taught you,
It's love to God, service and love
To the fellow-man.
Social
problems are to be among the greatest problems of the generation just moving
on to the stage of action. They, above all others, will claim the attention
of mankind, as they are already claiming it across the waters even as at
home. The attitude of the two classes toward each other, or the separation
of the classes, will be by far the chief problem of them all. Already it is
imperatively demanding a solution. Gradually, as the years have passed, this
separation has been going on, but never so rapidly as of late. Each has come
to regard the other as an enemy, with no interests in common, but rather
that what is for the interests of the one must necessarily be to the
detriment of the other.
The
great masses of the people, the working classes, those who as much, if not
more than many others ought to be there, are not in our churches to-day.
They already feel that they are not wanted there, and that the Church even
is getting to be their enemy. There must be a reason for this, for it is
impossible to have an effect without its preceding cause. It is indeed time
to waken up to these facts and conditions; for they must be squarely
met. A solution is imperatively demanded, and the sooner it comes, the
better; for, if allowed to continue thus, all will come back to be paid for,
intensified a thousand-fold,—ay, to be paid for even by many innocent
ones.
Let
this great principle of service, helpfulness, love, and self-devotion to the
interests of one's fellow-men be made the fundamental principle of all
lives, and see how simplified these great and all-important questions will
become. Indeed, they will almost solve themselves. It is the man all for
self, so small and so short sighted that he can't get beyond his own selfish
interests, that has done more to bring about this state of affairs than all
other causes combined. Let the cause be removed, and then note the results.
For
many years it has been a teaching even of political economy that an employer
buys his help just as he buys his raw material or any other commodity; and
this done, he is in no way responsible for the welfare of those he employs.
In fact, the time isn't so far distant when the employed were herded
together as animals, and were treated very much as such. But, thanks be to
God, a better and a brighter day is dawning. Even the employer is beginning
to see that practical ethics, or true Christianity, and business cannot and
must not be divorced; that the man he employs, instead of being a mere
animal whose services he buys, is, after all his fellow-man and his brother,
and demands a treatment as such, and that when he fails to recognize this
truth, a righteous God steps in, demanding a penalty for its violation.
He
is recognizing the fact that whatsoever is for the well-being of the one he
employs, that whatever privileges he is enabled to enjoy that will tend to
grow and develop his physical, his mental, and his moral life, that will
give him an agreeable home and pleasant family relations, that whatever
influences tend to elevate him and to make his life more happy, are a direct
gain, even from a financial standpoint for himself, by its increasing for
him the efficiency of the man's labor. It is already recognized as a fact
that the employer who interests himself in these things, other things being
equal, is the most successful. Thus the old and the false are breaking away
before the right and the true, as all inevitably must sooner or later; and
the divinity and the power of the workingman is being ever more fully
recognized.
In
the very remote history of the race there was one who, violating a great
law, having wronged a brother, asked, "Am I my brother's keeper?"
Knowing that he was, he nevertheless deceitfully put the question in this
way in his desire, if possible, to avoid the responsibility. Many employers
in their selfishness and greed for gain have asked this same question in
this same way. They have thought they could thus defeat the sure and eternal
laws of a Just Ruler, but have thereby deceived themselves the more. These
more than any others have to a great degree brought about the present state
of affairs in the industrial and social world.
Just
as soon as the employer recognizes the falsity of these old teachings and
practices, and the fact that he cannot buy his employee's services the same
as he buys his raw material, with no further responsibility, but that the
two are on vastly different planes, that his employee is his fellow-man and
his brother, and that he is his brother's keeper, and will be held
responsible as such, that it is to his own highest interests, as well as to
the highest interests of those he employs and to society in general, to
recognize this; and just as soon as he who is employed fully appreciates his
opportunities and makes the highest use of all, and in turn takes an active,
personal interest in all that pertains to his employer's welfare,—just
that soon will a solution of this great question come forth, and no sooner.
It
is not so much a question of legislation as of education and right doing,
thus a dealing with the individual, and so a prevention and a cure,
not merely a suppression and a regulation, which is always sure to fail;
for, in a case of right or wrong no question is ever settled finally until
it is settled rightly.
The
individual, dealing with the individual is necessarily at the bottom of all
true social progress. There can't be anything worthy the name without it.
The truth will at once be recognized by all that the good of the whole
defends upon the good of each, and the good of each makes the good of the
whole. Attend, then, to the individual, and the whole will take care of
itself. Let each individual work in harmony with every other, and harmony
will pervade the whole. The old theory of competition—that in order to
have great advancement, great progress, we must have great competition to
induce it—is as false as it is savage and detrimental in its nature. We
are just reaching that point where the larger men and women are beginning to
see its falsity. They are recognizing the fact that, not competition, but
co-operation, reciprocity, is the great, the true power,—to climb, not
by attempting to drag, to keep down one's fellows, but by aiding them, and
being in turn aided by them, thus combining, and so multiplying the power of
all instead of wasting a large part one against the other.
And
grant that a portion do succeed in rising, while the other portion remain in
the lower condition, it is of but little value so far as their own peace and
welfare are concerned; for they can never be what they would be, were all up
together. Each is but a part, a member, of the great civil body; and no
member, let alone the entire body, can be perfectly well, perfectly at ease,
when any other part is in dis-ease. No one part of the community, no one
part of the nation, can stand alone: all are dependent, interdependent. This
is the uniform teaching of history from the remotest times in the past right
through to the present. A most admirable illustration of this fact—if
indeed the word "admirable" can be used in connection with a
matter so deplorable—was the unparalleled labor trouble we had in our
great Western city but a few summers ago. The wise man is he who learns from
experiences of this terrific nature.
No,
not until this all-powerful principle is fully recognized, and is built upon
so thoroughly that the brotherhood principle, the principle of oneness can
enter in, and each one recognizes the fact that his own interests and
welfare depend upon the interests, the welfare of each, and therefore of
all, that each is but a part of the one great whole, and each one stands
shoulder to shoulder in the advance forward, can we hope for any true
solution of the great social problems before us, for any permanent elevation
of the standard in our national social life and welfare.
This
same principle is the solution, and the only true solution, of the charities
question, as indeed the whole world during the last few years or so, and
during this time only, is beginning to realize. And the splendid and
efficient work of the organized charities in all our large cities, as of the
Elberfeld system in Germany, is attesting the truth of this. Almost
numberless methods have been tried during the past, but all have most
successfully failed; and many have greatly increased the wretched condition
of matters, and of those it was designed to help. During this length of time
only have these all-important questions been dealt with in a true,
scientific, Christ-like, common-sense way. It has been found even here that
nothing can take the place of the personal and friendly influences of a life
built upon this principle of service.
The
question of aiding the poor and needy has passed through three distinct
phases of development in the world's history. In early times it was,
"Each one for himself, and the devil take the hindmost." From the
time of the Christ, and up to the last few years it has been, "Help
others." Now it is, "Help others to help themselves."
The wealthy society lady going down Fifth Avenue in New York, or Michigan
Avenue in Chicago, or Charles Street in Baltimore, or Commonwealth Avenue in
Boston, who flings a coin to one asking alms, is not the one who is
doing a true act of charity; but, on the other hand, she may be doing the
one she thus gives to and to society in general much more harm than good, as
is many times the case. It is but a cheap, a very cheap way of buying ease
for her sympathetic nature or her sense of duty. Never let the word
"charity," which always includes the elements of interested
service, true helpfulness, kindliness, and love, be debased by making it a
synonym of mere giving, which may mean the flinging of a quarter in scorn or
for show.
Recognizing
the great truth that the best and only way to help another is to help him to
help himself, and that the neglected classes need not so much alms as
friends, the Organized Charities with their several branches in different
parts of the city have their staffs of "friendly visitors," almost
all voluntary, and from some of the best homes in the land. Then when a case
of need comes to the notice of the society, one of these goes to the person
or family as a friend to investigate, to find what circumstances have
brought about these conditions, and, if found worthy of aid, present needs
are supplied, an effort is made to secure work, and every effort is made to
put them on their feet again, that self-respect may be regained, that hope
may enter in; for there is scarcely anything that tends to make one lose his
self-respect so quickly and so completely as to be compelled, or of his own
accord, to ask for alms.
It
is thus many times that a new life is entered upon, brightness and hope
taking the place of darkness and despair. This is not the only call the
friendly visitor makes; but he or she becomes a true friend, and
makes regular visits as such. If by this method the one seeking charity is
found to be an impostor, as is frequently the case, proper means of exposure
are resorted to, that his or her progress in this course may be stopped. The
organizations are thus doing a most valuable work, and one that will become
more and more valuable as they are enabled to become better organized, the
greatest need to-day being more with the true spirit to act as visiting
friends.
It
is this same great principle that has given birth to our college and
university settlements and our neighborhood guilds which are so rapidly
increasing, and which are destined to do a great and efficient work. Here a
small colony of young women, many from our best homes, and the ablest
graduates of our best colleges, and young men, many of them the ablest
graduates of our best universities, take up their abode in the poorest parts
of our large cities, to try by their personal influence and personal contact
to raise the surrounding life to a higher plane. It is in these ways that
the poor and the unfortunate are dealt with directly. Thus the classes
mingle. Thus that sentimentalism which may do and which has done harm to
these great problems, and by which the people it is designed to help may be
hindered rather than helped, is done away with. Thus true aid and service
are rendered, and the needy are really helped.
The
one whose life is built upon this principle will not take up work of this
kind as a "fad," or because it is "fashionable," but
because it is right, true, Christ-like. The truly great and noble never fear
thus to mingle with those poorer and less fortunate. It is only those who
would like to be counted as great, but who are too small to be so
recognized, and who, therefore, always thinking of self, put forth every
effort to appear so. There is no surer test than this.
Very
truly has it been said that "the greatest thing a man can do for God is
to be kind to some of His other children." All children of the same
Father, therefore all brothers, sisters. Man is next to God. Man is God
incarnate. Humanity, therefore, cannot be very far from being next to
godliness. Many people there are who are greatly concerned about serving
God, as they term it. Their idea is to build great edifices with costly
ornaments to Him. A great deal of their time is spent in singing songs and
hallelujahs to Him, just as if He needed or wanted these for Himself,
forgetting that He is far above being benefited by anything that we can say
or do, forgetting that He doesn't want these, when for lack of them some of
His children are starving for bread to eat or are dying for the bread of
life.
Can
you conceive of a God who is worthy of love and service,—and I speak most
reverently,—who under such conditions would take a satisfaction in these
things? I confess I am not able to. I can conceive of no way in which I can
serve God only as I serve Him through my own life and through the lives of
my fellow-men. This, certainly, is the only kind of service He needs or
wants, or that is acceptable to Him. At one place we read, "He that
says he loves God and loves not his fellow-men, is a liar; and the truth is
not in him."
Even
in religion I think we shall find that there is nothing greater or more
important than this great principle of service, helpfulness, kindliness, and
love. Is not Christianity, you ask, greater or more important? Why, bless
you, is this any other than Christianity, is Christianity any other than
this,—at least, if we take what the Master Teacher himself has said? For
what, let us ask, is a Christian,—the real, not merely in name? A follower
of Christ, one who does as he did, one who lives as he lived. And, again,
who was Christ? He that healed the sick, clothed the naked, bound up the
broken-hearted, sustained and encouraged the weak, the faltering, befriended
and aided the poor, the needy, condemned the proud and the selfish, taught
the people to live nobly, truly, grandly, to live in their higher, diviner
selves, that the greatest among them should be their servant, and that his
followers were those who lived as he lived. He spent all his time in the
service of humanity. He gave his whole life in this way. He it was who went
about doing good.
Is
it your desire then, to be numbered among his followers, to bear that
blessed name, the name "Christian"? Then sit at his feet, and
learn of him, love him, do as he did, as he taught you to do, live as he
lived, as he taught you to live, and you are a Christian, and not unless you
do. True Christianity can be found in no other way.
Naught
is the difference what one may call himself; for many call themselves by
this name to whom Christ says it will one day be said, "I never knew
you: depart from me, ye cursed." Naught is the difference what creeds
one may subscribe to, what rites and ceremonies he may observe, how loud and
how numerous his professions may be. All of these are but as a vain mockery,
unless he is a Christian; and to be a Christian is, as we have found,
to be a follower of Christ, to do as he did, to live as he lived. Then live
the Christ life. Live so as to become at one with God, and dwell continually
in this blessed at-one-ment. The trouble all along has been that so many
have mistaken the mere person of the Christ, the mere physical Jesus, for
his life, his spirit, his teachings, and have succeeded in getting no
farther than this as yet, except in cases here and there.
Now
and then a rare soul rises up, one with great power, great inspiration, and
we wonder at his great power, his great inspiration, why it is. When we look
deeply enough, however, we will find that one great fact will answer the
question every time. It is living the life that brings the power. He is
living the Christ life, not merely standing afar off and looking at it,
admiring it, and saying, Yes, I believe, I believe, and ending it there. In
other words, he has found the kingdom of heaven. He has found that it is not
a place, but a condition; and the song continually arising from his heart
is, There is joy, only joy.
The
Master, you remember, said: "Seek ye not for the kingdom of heaven in
tabernacles or in houses made with hands. Know ye not that the kingdom of
heaven is within you?" He told in plain words where and how to find it.
He then told how to find all other things, when he said, "Seek
ye first the kingdom of heaven, and all these other things shall be added
unto you." Now, do you wonder at his power, his inspiration, his
abundance of all things? The trouble with so many is that they act as if
they do not believe what the Master said. They do not take him at his word.
They say one thing: they do another. Their acts give the lie to their words.
Instead of taking him at his word, and living as if they had faith in him,
they prefer to follow a series of old, outgrown, man-made theories,
traditions, forms, ceremonies, and seem to be satisfied with the results.
No, to be a Christian is to live the Christ life, the life of him who
went about doing good, the life of him who came not to be ministered unto,
but to minister.
We
will find that this mighty principle of love and service is the greatest to
live by in this life, and also one of the gates whereby all who would must
enter the kingdom of heaven.
Again
we have the Master's words. In his own and only description of the last
judgment, after speaking of the Son of Man coming in all his glory and all
the holy angels with him, of his sitting on the throne of his glory with all
nations gathered before him, of the separation of this gathered multitude
into two parts, the one on his right, the other on his left, he says:
"Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed
of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of
the world. For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye
gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in; naked, and ye clothed
me; I was sick, and ye visited me; I was in prison, and ye came unto me.
Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee
an hungered, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink?
When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and
clothed thee? Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came
unto thee? And the King shall answer, and say unto them, Verily I say
unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my
brethren, ye have done it unto me.
"Then
shall he say unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed. For I
was an hungered, and ye gave me no meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me no
drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me not in; sick, and in prison, and ye
visited me not. Then shall they answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee
an hungered, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and
did not minister unto thee? Then shall he answer them, saying, Verily I say
unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did
it not to me."
After
spending the greater portion of his life in many distant climes in a
fruitless endeavor to find the Cup of the Holy Grail,
thinking that thereby he was doing the greatest service he could for God,
Sir Launfal at last returns an old man, gray-haired and bent. He finds that
his castle is occupied by others, and that he himself is an outcast. His
cloak is torn; and instead of the charger in gilded trappings he was mounted
upon when as a young man, he started out with great hopes and ambitions, he
is afoot and leaning on a staff. While sitting there and meditating, he is
met by the same poor and needy leper he passed the morning he started, the
one who in his need asked for aid, and to whom he had flung a coin in scorn,
as he hurried on in his eager desire to be in the Master's service. But
matters are changed now, and he is a wiser man. Again the poor leper
says:—
"'For
Christ's sweet sake, I beg an alms';—
The happy camels may reach the spring,
But Sir Launfal sees only the grewsome thing,
The leper, lank as the rain-blanched bone,
That cowers beside him, a thing as lone
And white as the ice-isles of Northern seas
In the desolate horror of his disease.
"And
Sir Launfal said: 'I behold in thee
An image of Him who died on the tree;
Thou also hast had thy crown of thorns,—
Thou also hast had the world's buffets and scorns,—
And to thy life were not denied
The wounds in the hands and feet and side:
Mild Mary's Son, acknowledge me;
Behold, through him, I give to thee!'
"Then
the soul of the leper stood up in his eyes
And looked at Sir Launfal, and straightway be
Remembered in what a haughtier guise
He had flung an alms to leprosie,
When he girt his young life up in gilded mail
And set forth in search of the Holy Grail.
The heart within him was ashes and dust;
He parted in twain his single crust,
He broke the ice on the streamlet's brink,
And gave the leper to eat and drink,
'Twas a mouldy crust of coarse brown bread,
'Twas water out of a wooden bowl,—
Yet with fine wheaten bread was the leper fed,
And 'twas red wine he drank with his thirsty
soul.
"As
Sir Launfal mused with a downcast face,
A light shone round about the place;
The leper no longer crouched at his side,
But stood before him glorified,
Shining and tall and fair and straight
As the pillar that stood by the Beautiful Gate,—
Himself the Gate whereby men can
Enter the temple of God in Man.
"And
the voice that was calmer than silence said,
'Lo, it is I, be not afraid!
In many climes, without avail,
Thou hast spent thy life for the Holy Grail;
Behold, it is here,—this cup which thou
Didst fill at the streamlet for me but now;
This crust is my body broken for thee,
This water His blood that died on the tree;
The Holy Supper is kept, indeed,
In whatso we share with another's need;
Not what we give, but what we share,—
For the gift without the giver is bare;
Who gives himself with his alms feeds three,—
Himself, his hungering neighbor, and me.'"
The
fear is sometimes entertained, and the question is sometimes asked, May not
adherence to this principle of helpfulness and service become mere
sentimentalism? or still more, may it not be the means of lessening
another's sense of self-dependence, and thus may it not at times do more
harm than good? In reply let it be said: If the love which impels it be a
selfish love, or a weak sentimental ism, or an effort at show, or devoid of
good common sense, yes, many times. But if it be a strong, genuine,
unselfish love, then no, never. For, if my love for my fellow-man be the
true love, I can never do anything that will be to his or any one's else
detriment,—nothing that will not redound to his highest ultimate welfare.
Should he, for example come and ask of me a particular favor, and were it
clear to me that granting it would not be for his highest good ultimately,
then love at once resolves itself into duty, and compels me to forbear. A
true, genuine, unselfish love for one's fellow-man will never prompt, and
much less permit, anything that will not result in his highest ultimate
good. Adherence, therefore, to this great principle in its truest sense,
instead of being a weak sentimentalism, is, we shall find, of all practical
things the most intensely practical.
And
a word here in regard to the test of true love and service, in distinction
from its semblance for show or for vain glory. The test of the true is this:
that it goes about and does its good work, it never says anything about it,
but lets others do the saying. It not only says nothing about it, but more,
it has no desire to have it known; and, the truer it is, the greater the
desire to have it unknown save to God and its own true self. In other words,
it is not sicklied o'er with a semi-insane desire for notoriety or
vainglory, and hence never weakens itself nor harasses any one else by
lengthy recitals of its good deeds. It is not the professional
good-doing. It is simply living its natural life, open-minded, open-hearted,
doing each day what its hands find to do, and in this finding its own true
life and joy. And in this way it unintentionally but irresistibly draws to
itself a praise the rarest and divinest I know of,—the praise I heard
given but a day or two ago to one who is living simply his own natural life
without any conscious effort at anything else, the praise contained in the
words: And, oh, it is beautiful, the great amount of good he does and of
which the world never hears.
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