DISGUSTING AND BLASPHEMOUS SUPERSTITION
INTELLECTUALLY, scientifically, and in large measure industrially and socially, the world has emerged from the darkness of the Dark Ages. But theologically, the most of it is still back there. Even in the Protestant world, the prevailing theology is the theology of those centuries of ignorance and superstition. We give herewith a specimen of the depths in which the Catholic church still remains. The narrative represents the Virgin Mary as smuggling souls into heaven, despite the watchful guardianship which Peter maintains at the gate, and contrary to the will of Christ. This a Catholic paper hands out as a true statement of divine truth to the ignorant dupes of that vile imposture. We reprint from the New York Independent, the article, which is there entitled, “The Virgin Mary a Smuggler, By Ronile,” and he quotes from a Catholic paper called “Sontags-Blatt, or ‘Sunday Sheet,’” an appropriate paper truly to be the vehicle of such stuff. The reader will observe, moreover, that the whole foundation for such blasphemous nonsense is the wide-spread error that the soul is immortal and the dead conscious. Let us exert ourselves with re-doubled energy to expose that ruinous heresy. But to the article, which reads:— I am not opposed to the Roman Catholic Church, in so far as it preaches truth, heals the sick, and cares for the poor; quite the contrary. But some times the vagaries of members of that Church cause a great strain on my regard for the principles thereof, in spite of the india-rubber character of the principles, and of my regard for them. A Roman Catholic newspaper is lying before me, the Sontags-Blatt or “Sunday-Sheet,” a gratis supplement to the Cologne Bergheim and to the Ehrenfeld Times, the fourth number for 1884, issued on Sunday, the 27th of January. It must be distinctly understood that the Pope does not edit this journal, nor does the Archbishop of Cologne; it is edited, printed, and published by Peter Brandts, in Ehrenfeld. Yet it is a Roman Catholic journal. The first thing under the title is the calendar for the week, with the saints to be invoked day by day (a very fair selection, by the way), beginning with Chrysostom for Monday, giving two saints apiece for Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, not forgetting the Church militant in Charlemagne for Tuesday. I beg Charlemagne’s pardon, but I really did not know before that he had been canonized; indeed, I do not feel sure even now that our editor has not copied his name by mistake from some worldly almanac. After this come the notices of the “Unceasing Prayer” in various chapels. This pleases me. I believe in prayer. Prayer-tests or no, it is good for me, and I think must be good for other people. I am glad when they like it. But then, I may add that I do not like vain repetitions, or a mechanical, Thibet prayer-wheel repetition, even of such good things as the Lord’s Prayer. Further, the first two articles are, to my mind, proper ones. One is a poem of three verses, entitled “Deliverance;” and, if the poetry be only of the kind usual in small papers, the sense and the theology are excellent. The second is a little sermon for the third Sunday after Epiphany, on the text Matt. 8: 1–13, wherein the writer praises faith as the foundation of our salvation. This sermon could find a place in any sound Protestant newspaper, and be welcome. Nor have I any fault to find with the piece of a serial story which forms the fourth and last of the longer articles in the “Sunday-Sheet.” “What does not please you then, and why are you so long in getting at it?” Do not be in a hurry! It is the third article. Read it, and tell me if it does not arouse your indignation at the writer, at the editor, and at the confessors of the two men, who put such a thing in the hands of the poor! It is entitled, “Smuggling in Heaven,” by J. H., and it reads as follows:— “One day our Divine Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, was walking through the land from which death, care, pain, and crying have been banished. Coming upon a number of men and women, old134 people, and children, he stood still in surprise, because he could not remember ever having seen them in heaven. He observed, particularly among the children, a numerous group of little girlish forms, whose lovely faces, radiant with joy, were altogether strange and unknown to him.” “‘What can this mean?’ he thought to himself. ‘The thing looks suspicious. Is it possible that some one has dared to practice smuggling in heaven? Or is Peter beginning to grow careless? Hum! I am afraid that old age has made him somewhat too indulgent.’ Occupied with such thoughts, he turned his steps to the great door of heaven. Peter was standing near it with the great golden keys in his hand.” “The prince of the apostles grew pale, and was evidently embarrassed at the severe look which our Lord cast upon him. Since, however, his conscience did not reproach him in the least, he calmed himself, laid aside all fear, and waited in respectful silence till he should be spoken to.” “‘Peter,’ began the Highest Judge, ‘I have just seen several faces that I did not know at all. I know that for base gold you do not grant unworthy persons entrance into heaven. Were you, perhaps, away a few minutes? Or did you, it may be, forget to lock the door? Give me an open and an honest answer, such as I am accustomed to from you.’” “‘Master,’ replied Peter, ‘I can assure you that I always keep the door locked, and only open it after I have assured myself, rather twice than only once, that the first name and family name, as well as the occupation and residence of those who desire entrance have been booked in the general register. It is true that I sometimes absent myself from my post for a short time; but that happens very rarely, and then I always leave as my representative my brother Andrew, upon whom I can rely in every respect.’” “‘It is indeed strange!’ murmured the Redeemer. He called several of the suspicious-looking people to him, and asked them a few questions. They all gave their baptismal and their family names; but, singularly enough, no one of these was written in the general register.” “‘The features of the Master grew severer than before, and Peter trembled in every limb like an aspen. But our Lord said quickly: “Calm yourself, and do not let your courage fail. I give you three days, during which you can make the necessary researches. As soon as you have ended them, lay a detailed report before me.”’” “‘The gatekeeper of Heaven did not lose a minute. After he had intrusted the keys of heaven’s gate to his brother Andrew, whom he charged to be as watchful as possible, he at once went to the people whose names were lacking in the general register of the Book of Life.’” “‘How did you get into Paradise?’ he addressed them. ‘Certainly not through the door!’” “‘No, sir,’ said a tottering old man, who answered in the name of the rest. ‘Listen. This is the way it came about. After we had knocked for a long time in vain at the great door, and you refused to open unto us, we determined, in our despair, to go clear around heaven. Perhaps—this was our hope—there is somewhere or other a concealed little door, which will grant the entrance we long for with such pain. Unfortunately, however, we soon came to the conviction that the walls of heaven were just as firm and impervious as they are beautiful and artistic. Nevertheless, we did not cease our vain endeavors; an endlessly, inexpressibly beautiful song, which found its way to us through these walls of agate, jasper, and emerald, fettered our steps. Suddenly, at the very moment at which we thought we must give up all hope of pressing our way into the land of the blessed, we heard a voice, which sounded by itself far more harmonious than all the choruses of the blessed spirits together, and it said:—” “‘“Hither, my children, hither!” The sweet sounds had scarcely ceased, when an opening appeared in the walls of heaven which, however, closed again a few minutes later. We had just time enough to slip in through it. It doubtless is not necessary to mention to you the name of the person who called us so mercifully, and led us hither.’” “‘That is indeed unnecessary,’ replied the apostle and prince. ‘Remain here, all of you, in God’s name, until the Highest Judge shall have finally decided upon your fate.’” “‘With speedy feet, the key-bearer went to his Lord and Master. “Lord,” he began, “I have already finished my researches. My supposition has turned out to be correct. The people did not pass in through the door, but—but”—“Tell me the whole truth without hesitation,” said Jesus, encouragingly, to his apostle, who feared to go on. “Your mother called them and let them in through an opening in the wall.”’” “‘I thought so,’ said the Redeemer, with a sweet smile. ‘It is not the first time that she has played such tricks upon me. However,’ he continued, ‘the Book of Life cannot deceive us, and the names of the ones she has let in must, therefore, necessarily be in it. So go and look; see if you cannot find them entered in the daybook of heaven.’” “‘Peter obeyed. He had only turned over a few pages in the great book with the seven seals, when his gaze fell upon a long, fine, elegant handwriting, which clearly was from a woman’s hand. The apostle recognized the writing at once; for he had seen it only too often on petitions. Yes; the mother of God had herself noted here the names of those she had let in; but she had forgotten to add them to the general register.’” “‘Thus all was cleared up. This time, too, justice was forced to yield to mercy. “Poor doorkeeper,” sighed the prince of the apostles sadly, as he went back to his porter’s lodge, “in reality you are only an under-doorkeeper. The real doorkeeper, yes, the door of heaven, is and remains the mother of my Master, and Christians are only too thoroughly right when they name her: “Ianna coeli, ora pro nobis,” “Gate of Heaven, pray for us.”’” There, that is the effort of the Roman Catholic writer. What do you think of it? I confess that it was not easy to write it down, and I will warrant that you have not read it without disagreeable feelings; but some things must be seen to be believed, some warnings cannot be too plainly pointed; and this is a fair sample of the method in which the ignorance and superstition of the poor are played upon, in order to support the extravagances of Mary-worship in the Roman Catholic churches.