Earlier text: The Spirit and the WordTHE SANCTIFIER AND THE SANCTIFIED.
By J. H. D.
“For both He that sanctifieth and they who are sanctified are all of one; for which cause He is not ashamed to call them brethren, saying, I will declare Thy name unto My brethren, in the midst of the church will I sing praise unto Thee. And again, I will put my trust in Him. And again, Behold I and the children which God hath given Me.” Heb. 2:11–13. From the context the pronoun “he” must refer to Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels. See verse 9. Through sufferings he was made a perfect Saviour. For in his sufferings he met the temptations that come to suffering humanity, and thereby was enabled to encourage every one who suffers. He has been over the road and can take every trusting one through all sufferings so as to sanctify them through their trials. To sanctify is to make holy, to hallow, to purify. Jesus is the one who does this work. But he that can make another pure, must first be pure himself. Is this true of him that sanctifieth? “Exalt ye the Lord our God, and worship at his footstool; for he is holy.” Ps. 99:5. When the prophet Isaiah saw the Lord on his throne, everything connected with his temple was holy. “Above it stood the seraphim; each one had six wings; with twain he covered his face, and with twain he covered his feet, and with twain he did fly. And one cried unto another, and said, Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.” Isa. 6:2, 3. The view of his holiness when viewed by sinful man led him to exclaim, “Woe is me! for I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts.” See John 12:41. As Christ and his Father are one in their work, and Jesus is the creative agency of the Godhead, he partakes of the holiness of God. After Jesus had done his work in the flesh and ascended to heaven, the angels sang the same song that they had before he came to earth: “And the four beasts [living ones] had each of them six wings about him; and they were full of eyes within; and they rest not day and night, saying, Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come.” Rev. 4:8. Christ’s word and presence bring purity wherever they abide. Sin and unrighteousness must be cast out wherever the presence of Christ is. When Christ met Moses in the desert and spoke to him out of the bush, he said, “Draw not nigh hither; put off thy shoes from off thy feet; for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground.” Ex. 3:5. In the beginning, when Christ made the Sabbath, he put his presence in that, so it is holy, because he is in it. See Gen. 2:2, 3; Ex. 20:8–11. When he came to this earth and took sinful flesh, in which to dwell among men, his presence made that flesh holy. He did not change the Godhead into flesh, but he transformed the flesh by unity with God. He made God and man one Christ. This is the nature and power of the Sanctifier, the One who humbled himself, and who took upon him the seed of Abraham. He was holy himself, and able to make all who accept him holy. He did no sin, “neither was guile found in his mouth.” Although tempted on all points like as we are tempted, yet he sinned not. This is the character of the One that sanctifies. “They Who Are Sanctified.”
If the Sanctifier is Jesus, they who are sanctified must be those who accept the Sanctifier as the abiding Christ. “By the which will we are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.” “For by one offering he hath perfected forever them that are sanctified.” Heb. 10:10, 14. To sanctify is to make holy, to set apart for a holy use. By the sacrifice of himself Jesus Christ became our Sanctifier. By coming to this earth and living a holy life in the flesh, he showed to man that such a life could be lived on earth amidst all its temptations. How does he sanctify the believer?—“Sanctify them through thy truth; thy word is truth.” John 17:17. Then again he says, “It is the Spirit that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing; the words that I have spoken unto you are spirit, and are life.” John 6:63, R. V. It is not the abstract word that is seen on the printed page, as are the words of a newspaper, that sanctifies the believer. His word as seen thus only gives the receiver knowledge, and makes him argumentative, but the life is no more holy than before. It is the word that contains the Spirit of God and is received into the heart that sanctifies. Receiving the word of truth in this way is to receive Christ. But, as before stated, where Christ takes up his abode, sin must be driven out. He is holy, and where his presence is there must be holiness. The reason so few realize this work in the heart is because they receive the word without Christ in it. The Sanctifier does not sanctify them, because he does not find a place in the heart. The part of the sanctified is to yield to the voice of the Sanctifier. The work is not done on one test, but in everything. It is true that there must come a time when he who would be made holy must decide to give up his life, his ways, and all he has, to Christ, to use in his holy service. But this is only the beginning. But the work is no more complete than was Christ’s giving himself before the foundation of the world. While he fully yielded all the glory of heaven, and freely offered himself for the sinful world, yet he had to be tested over and over again. In Gethsemane he was so burdened that he cried out, “O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt.” They are one in their temptations. “He was tempted in all points like as we are, yet without sin.” His first surrender did not save him from the severest temptations. Neither will the sanctified one’s complete surrender save him from after temptations. The Sanctifier was so pressed that he cried out for the cup to be removed if it could possibly be the Father’s will. At another time he cries, “Why hast thou forsaken me?” Yet in all these trials he refused not to yield to the trial, neither did he commit sin. So it is with the sanctified. They may be surrounded by the darkest cloud, yet as long as they yield it all to Christ, not shrinking from the severest trial, he still abides with them, and there is a growth in their sanctification. “He is not ashamed to call them brethren.” When the draught is so bitter that they are led to say, “If it be possible, let this pass,” he is not ashamed to call them brethren. When the cloud hangs so heavily over them that every ray of light is hid from their eyes, if they still reach out toward him, he will not forsake his brethren. They may be led to cry out as one forsaken, yet he is not ashamed to call them brethren. He knows their feelings, for he has passed through trials and over the ground before them. He knows how terrible is the darkness and how bitter is the cup. He can be touched with the feelings of our infirmities. When we are pained, it pains him. You ask why? Because he is abiding in us, and he is the One that is being tried again. We are to reckon ourselves as dead, and yield to him in every conflict. The Philosophy of Sin and Redemption
By T. H. Starbuck
THE INTERRELATION OF THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. NO. 14.
The Philosophy of Sin and Redemption.
“COME now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.” Isa. 1:18. God wants men to possess all the knowledge they can gather on this subject from the light of reason as it is exercised in harmony with nature and revelation. He invites us to reason together with him, that is, in harmony with him, not against him, as is too often done. When Paul preached the Gospel, he reasoned out of the Scriptures and from nature. He taught wonderful things upon the theme under consideration. It will be safe to follow his example. In respect to sin and redemption, in all their features, there is nothing in them for which a reason can not be given; men, under the darkness and deceptive influences of sin, may be incapable of comprehending the logic of such things. The term reason is not used here in the sense of excuse; for no excuse can be made for sin. But the reasons why it could originate and develop can be assigned; and the reasons for the existence and operation of saving grace can be elucidated. They are all possibilities in the nature of divine government; and there is a philosophy of such things. True philosophy is an elucidation of the nature of things. Those who study the word of God most diligently can enter into such investigations with the clearest perceptions and keenest delights. Philosophy is the love of wisdom as well as the science of things. “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom: a good understanding have all they that do his commandments.” Ps. 111:10. A critical study of the nature and operations of divine law reveals the principles by which sin could originate and develop as it does, and how saving grace springs from the administration of divine government. It has been shown that the614 gift of reason is power that may be turned out of its intended use into sin. Intelligence springs from the divine force of God’s Spirit acting through this physical organization (Job 32:8); and, like any power emanating from God to his creatures, it may be misdirected. “There is no power but of God,” and all evil springs from an illegitimate use of the power which God bestows upon his created intelligences. The intelligent creature can use his endowment for evil purposes, for its existence makes its perversion a possibility. The endowment of power, however, does not include the disposition to abuse it. If it did, God would be the Author of sin. Disposition is something that can be begotten and strengthened in the mind. The tendency to sin is begotten in the heart of the creature by the act of sin, and strengthened by a continuation in the evil course. The act of sin is evidence that the evil tendency is in the heart. Sin can originate only in the mind or seat of intelligence; and from thence it develops into action. God’s laws are perfect, and if allowed to operate according to his design, they are ordained to life; but there is a latent, penal force in them which becomes spontaneous when they are violated; so they are also ordained to death. “The commandment, which was ordained to life, I found to be unto death.” Rom. 7:10. The Creator sets his laws to work invariably in the direction of life, but never in the direction of death. He has ordained death only on condition of sin, and for no other purpose than to limit the results of evil. Sin is the root that produces death. Satan originated sin, and so he has the power of death; but his power is not absolute, for sin limits itself. Death springs from sin naturally because it sets the penal force of the law to work. God can not create intelligent beings without making sin a possibility; but sin is limited by the penal force of his laws. This penal force in his laws establishes the divine government and makes it perfect. The penal force of the law, when once set in operation, develops naturally to its final result, death. Transgression turns beneficent laws against the sinner, and the whole trend of their force is abnormal, or contrary to life, and death instead of life is the natural result. This order of things indicates the perfection of divine government, for it gives God the supremacy over evil. There is an infinite force in the living laws of God. The same law that binds man to sin can also bind him to the Saviour. See Rom. 7:1-6. Divine government is a necessity, for the only alternative is chance. But government stands opposed to chance as order is opposed to chaos. It is only by means of law that the material universe can exist, or that intelligent beings can exist under conditions of happiness. A chance universe is an impossibility, for nothing can exist without an adequate cause, and where there is an adequate cause there will be some kind of order or government. But as divine government is a necessity, it follows that obedience to it is also a necessity, in order to secure happiness. But obedience can not be absolutely secured without the penal force of the law. The order of heaven is just what the scripture states: Obedience and life or disobedience and death. The argument then may be briefly summarized as follows:— 1. The purpose of the Creator is to endow his creatures with the highest order of happiness possible to finite beings. 2. Intelligence is essential to secure such felicity. 3. The endowment of intelligence makes sin a possibility. 4. Sin defiles everything and is destructive of happiness. 5. Unless God’s plan of moral government embraces some provision for the eradication of sin, the happiness of his creatures would be perpetually thwarted if sin should ever originate. 6. To secure happiness, and the supremacy over evil, it is necessary that divine law should be characterized by a penal force, to compensate for the possibility of evil. 7. But as divine law is uncreated and eternal, emanating from the Deity, it follows that its latent, penal force is natural in the attributes of God. 8. The glory of God is revealed in his laws, both in their ministration of death and in their ministration of righteousness. 2 Corinthians 3. 9. Its ministration of life springs from God’s creative act, and its ministration of death from the act of sin; therefore, the transgressor is responsible for his sin, and by the act forfeits all right to life; and death, which springs spontaneously from the violated law, is just. 10. The existence of moral government shows its necessity and the possibility of sin. Laws prescribing a right course of life could not exist if a wrong course were impossible. “Where no law is there is no transgression.” This is equivalent to saying that if sin were made an impossibility in the absolute sense, there would be no divine government. 11. No excuse can be made for sin, for its results are wholly evil, while the effects of righteousness are wholly good. The good results of divine government are so apparent that the righteousness of God’s living laws is fully vindicated. While the death penalty exists potentially in the law, God takes no pleasure in the death of transgressors. (See Eze. 18:32.) The character of God is perfect in every phase. While he is infinitely just, he is infinitely merciful. Justice and mercy are in no sense antagonistic. It is both just and merciful that the sinner should die if he adheres to the ways of sin; and it is both merciful and just that he should live if he forsakes sin. Rom. 3:26. It is just as natural for God to be merciful as it is for him to be just. His manifestations of mercy are no more to be wondered at than his justice. While it was a trying ordeal for him to give his only begotten Son in order to bring a lost world back to the fold, yet his act of love was in strict accord with his nature. Had he not made the effort to save the lost, he would not have acted out his true nature; for God is love, and the act was an expression of that love. If his creatures sin and persist in that course, he could not vindicate his holiness and allow them continued existence. If those who are in sin yield to God’s way, he could not maintain his holiness and let them perish. God’s mercy may be placed even in a stronger light than this. If his creatures, by sin, place themselves in sin’s helpless and cruel bondage, he can not let them perish without an effort to save them, because that course would be contrary to his nature. John 3:16; Rom. 5:10. We know that this is true, for it is just what he is doing for a lost world. He is doing that which is just and right, because it is characteristic of his true nature. What we see of the ministrations of his grace reveals him to us as he is. In the workings of his grace his character is perfectly delineated. There is no revelation of his mercy that is out of proportion with his justice. There is nothing of the nature of policy in his dealings with sin. “His kingdom ruleth over all.” He is unlimited in his exercise of power. He is infinitely above everything of the nature of worldly wisdom. In the controversy with evil he adopts no stratagem to gain or to hold the supremacy. Condemnation and salvation are both just under their proper conditions; and his justice in either case is embodied in the principles of his law. His foreordination in either case is just, because it is the natural outgrowth of his perfect law. The salvation of the penitent and the condemnation of the guilty are both in accord with eternal truth and the nature of God. Ex. 34:5-8. The death of Christ did not change the nature of divine justice so as to make an act just, which was not just before. It was not to change the nature of things so that God could justly save the repentant. Its effect was to change the sinner, not God. God loved the sinner before Christ died for him, otherwise he would not have died. His death signified no change in the attitude of God toward the sinner, but it brought a change in the attitude of the sinner toward God. It was Heaven’s pledge that God can justly save the penitent. The author of sin had said that God could not justly save any, and that the defect was in the stern justice of the law. The darkness of sin leads the mind to view God and his law in that light. As all objects assume the color of the tinted glass through which they are seen, so man, looking at God through eyes defiled by sin, clothes him with human attributes. The idols of the heathen are human conceptions of God defiled. They have made their gods altogether like themselves. The experience of six thousand years in sin demonstrates the fact that it is utterly impossible for man to obtain true perceptions of God. Without a revelation a saving knowledge of God is impossible. So God was manifested in flesh in the person of Jesus Christ, that men might see him in the true light and know his saving power. In the work of reconciliation it is the sinner who is affected. God is not changed at all. He is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever. Sin in the heart leads to the view that God, in some sense, had to be reconciled before he could consent to the salvation of repentant sinners. The evil one has exerted his skill for six thousand years to induce men to view God in that light; but it is only the gods of his own creation that have to be reconciled by a sacrifice. The misconceptions of sin have been engrafted upon our theology for centuries. If God’s system of theology teaches one thing above another, it is this, that Christ died, Not to Make God Willing to Save Us,
but to make us willing to let him save us. There was nothing in God demanding the sacrifice of his Son to make salvation possible. The conditions demanding it were all imposed by sin. Sin placed man where he could not be reached without a revelation of God’s love, and there was no other way but7 the way of the cross to make man understand the love that saves. There was a stern demand for the death of Christ, but it sprang from the awful nature and conditions of sin, and not from God. Sin had separated man from a knowledge of God, and the demand for the Word to become flesh was absolute. There was no other means of insuring salvation. The sufferings of Christ are the logical result of sin. It took the best Gift that Heaven could send to earth to save from the power of transgression. By the revelation of God in Christ it was made possible for man to become acquainted with God, and to be revealed finally in the glorious liberty of the sons of God. 1 John 3:1-3. So then it is strictly true that Christ gave himself for us. In him is revealed all that lost men need. His life is the Gospel exemplified, because it is the law exemplified. The relation between law and Gospel is so intimate that it is impossible to separate them. One can not exist without the other. To believe in Christ is to believe in the law exemplified in his life. To accept Christ as our Saviour is to become loyal to the law of the Spirit of life in him. The Gospel is the natural revelation of God’s power which existed from eternity. The divine energy of his moral government develops and operates as emergencies demand. Before sin originated, its righteousness only was known; when sin developed, its wrath became known; and the Gospel is its divine energy at work reconciling the lost to God, and working out righteousness in them who forsake sin. It is not salvation by our efforts at keeping the law, but by the divine energy of the law at work in us as it operated in Christ’s life on earth. The operation of the law of the Spirit of life in him is an exhibition of God’s saving power. It is the power of God unto salvation working in believers. It was not devised or brought into existence to meet an emergency, for it always existed potentially in God. Like the seed which germinates when the conditions are right, it sprang into activity spontaneously when the conditions demanded it. It is the natural revelation of God under the conditions of sin, because it is the development of the word of his power. So, then, all who have come to know God by this revelation of his grace, can say with Paul, “The law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin and death.” FINAL SUCCESS OF THE MINORITY.
By W. N. Glenn
The “majority” argument in determining right and wrong in controversy has become so strongly intrenched in the minds of the masses in this country, that it is well-nigh settled, popularly speaking, that minorities have no rights. It seems to be the opinion of many that even the Golden Rule applies only in favor of the majority. This thought is made prominent by Sunday-law exemptions of persons observing the seventh day. These exemption clauses invariably provide that Sunday work done by these people shall not be of such a nature as to disturb or interfere with the enjoyment of the day of rest by others. But there never is any thought of their being disturbed on the seventh day in their rest and worship. While the Sunday keeper is disturbed by a very trifling piece of work done on his rest day, he never once thinks of the disturbance of one who keeps the seventh day, although in general it is the busiest and noisiest day of the week. The leading Sunday-law organs will blandly assert that “Saturday keepers” are not in the least hindered in their rest or worship on the seventh day. But what makes the difference? O, the majority! Says one of these organs:— A small minority of the whole population who adopt views and practices so much at variance with the laws and customs of the country where they live must expect some inconveniences, even when those laws are modified to the full extent permissible by the rights of the masses of the people. Well, we do expect inconveniences, but we are sorry to see a great majority of people claiming to be followers of Christ selfishly claiming for themselves all the prerogatives and immunities merely because of their numerical strength. It does look sad to see a host of people so easily disturbed by the labor of a few humble commandment keepers, and then coolly assuming that the few have no rights that the many are bound to respect. Yes, we expect inconveniences, and the word of God exhorts us to “be patient in tribulation.” This we can well afford to do, for the Revelation shows us a happy throng who “came up out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes white in the blood of the Lamb;” and we expect to be among them, for they are the same of whom it is said in another place: “Here is the patience of the saints; here are they that keep the commandments of God and the faith of Jesus.” But we repeat it, we are sorry to see so many who are willing, in the name of Christianity, to add tribulation to the few who see duty and privilege in following in the footsteps of the Master,—keeping the same Sabbath that he kept, amid all its inconveniences, and observing all the ordinances instituted by him on the night before he was offered on the cross. Alas! for the professed followers of Christ who can not see more force in the Golden Rule than in a man-made sabbath law. To the point are the familiar lines of Cowper:— “I would not enter on my list of friends
(Though graced with polished manners and fine sense,
Yet wanting sensibility), the man
Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.” The true followers of Christ never have been the majority. They ever have been, ever will be in this world, the “little flock” to whom it is the “Father’s good pleasure” to give the kingdom. “Enter ye in at the strait gate; for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat; because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.” Matt. 7: 13, 14. WITH OR WITHOUT?
By Julia H. Duffie
“Do you prefer your coffee with or without cream?” or, “Will you take such a dish with or without sauce?” are questions frequently asked at table. It is also often the case that the proposed added portion is the more nutritious and wholesome part of the dish, although the flavor may not be acceptable to every taste. Our Saviour once placed a choice between two conditions before his hearers, and which interests us to-day quite as closely as those who then listened to him. One condition was to cling to earthly possessions and honors, and refuse the trials necessary to fit one for eternal life. The other choice was to renounce this world, accepting such blessings as God bestowed “with persecutions” (or tribulations), and in the world to come life everlasting. I fancy if the choice were placed before us to-day in direct words, we would sometimes be inclined to answer, If you please, Lord, I will take my good things without the tribulations. But if we insist upon this condition, we must consent to forego the future benefits. “There is no man that hath left house, or brethren, . . . for My sake, and the Gospel’s [or, in other words, given everything for Christ], but he shall receive an hundred-fold now in this time, houses, and brethren, . . . with persecutions.” Thus we see that there is no way of escaping the trials without forfeiting the final reward. No provision is made for special cases; all must abide by the same terms. “No man” may evade this divinely appointed arrangement. To many this persecution has come through the rack, the thumbscrew, the dungeon, and many other murderous methods. To many others it comes in a very different manner, but to every one it has or must come in some form. Not a soul who has really made and maintained a full consecration to Christ, but must accept his blessings in this life with persecutions. In some cases this chastening comes simply through the jeers and ridicule of former gay companions, which to some natures are quite as hard to bear as the physical torture would be. To others this daily tribulation may come through the capricious disposition of a suspicious, oversensitive member of the household, who persists in attributing a base motive to every deed and word, no matter how disinterested or well meant it may be. Always on the alert to defend self, they themselves become the attacking party, thus “paying in advance” the harm they imagine is intended them. Or it may be a friend, or one who should be a friend, whose careless, gossiping tongue may bring estrangement between those who otherwise might be the best of friends and mutual helpers. All these things constantly test the patience, forbearance, and generosity of those who encounter them, and these virtues, like all other useful qualities, can only grow and retain8 their strength by a healthful amount of exercise. Can we then afford to dispense with such helpful means, which if rightly accepted can but increase our usefulness? Hannah Whitall Smith calls the permissive providences “God’s chariots,” sent to help us on our upward way, and sensibly puts the question, “Shall we mount these chariots and ride, permitting them to carry us to the heights God designed us to reach, or will we walk and endeavor to push the clumsy things with our feeble hands?” When something particularly provoking occurs, perhaps a belittling, ridiculous construction placed (by those who it seems ought to know and do better) upon a well-intended deed or expression, on such occasions I sometimes say to myself: “Well, now, will you take your blessings with or without the tribulations? Ride or walk, which shall it be?” God help us to be wise and choose the nobler part, thankfully accepting such favors as an all-wise and provident Father may see fit to intrust to us, whether temporal or otherwise, with whatever chastening or polishing portion his unerring hand may add to the cup. For who would become a fruitless branch through lack of proper purging? PAINTING AT THE DOOR.
By J. R. Miller
THERE is a story of a prodigal who came back from the far country and could not find his father's house. He wandered on and on, and at last in the gathering night sank down heartsick and faint, on the steps of a little cottage. Without knowing it he was on his own father's doorstep. Inside sat the aged father and mother, their hearts hungering for their long-lost boy. Outside, bowed and crushed and longing for love and for home, lay the weary, homesick son, on the very threshold of home, but not knowing it. So, near to the gates of heaven is every human soul that is penitent, weary of sin, longing for divine mercy and love. There are many who are not yet in Christ's kingdom, but who have at least some desire for heaven's peace. They do not know where to find what they seek. But close by them is one of heaven's gates, and they have but to arise in their penitence and enter into their Father's house.—J. R. Miller. IN CHATHAM JAIL FOR CONSCIENCE' SAKE.
John Mathews, the Farm Laborer of Mr. Robt. Watt, of Selton, Ont., Incarcerated for CUTTING AND MAKING HAY ON SUNDAY.
Under the above heading the Toronto World, of September 16, gives the following account of Sunday-law prosecution in Canada. It is a graphic but correct picture:— Amid the smiling fields of Selton dwell a peaceful and prosperous community. All the men may not be as brave, nor all the women as beautiful, as in the Elysian days of chivalry and romance, but the majority are honest, pure, and true, which is much better. Most of them have sought to live peaceable and godly lives, and to observe the golden rule and do unto others “as I would they should do unto me.” Dame Nature has blessed the people of Selton with as fair and fruitful lands as are to be found almost anywhere in the dominion. Golden grain and ruddy orchard form a rich mantle to the kindly earth which wears them. Flocks and herds graze quietly in sunny meadows and rest beneath leafy shade. Situate at a sufficient distance from the large cities, these children of the hamlet have grown to man and womanhood untainted by the baneful influences more or less incident to town life. But the influences of the advance civilization of the cities they have felt, and they have been ennobled thereby. To the sojournings of these sons and daughters of the plow may well be applied the beautiful lines of Longfellow concerning the Arcadians:— “Their lives glided on like rivers that water the woodlands, Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of heaven.”
About ten months ago a number of these people, from the study of the word of God and the preaching of evangelists, became convinced that the coming of the Lord was near, and that Saturday, the seventh day of the week, was the Sabbath—the day blessed of Jehovah to holy rest—instead of Sunday, the first day of the week, as they had formerly been wont to believe. The promptings of conscience are sacred with these people. In their minds eternity is a bright vision stretching before, and worth more than all on earth beside. When they read from the sacred page that “the seventh day (Saturday) is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God,” they said among themselves, “Then we have made a mistake in keeping Sunday, which is the first day of the week.” And when they read further, “In it (Saturday) thou shalt not do any work,” their hearts responded, “God must be obeyed.” And so they changed their day of worship. Otherwise their deeds were much as before. They are now kinder if anything to their friends, their neighbors, and their enemies than in days of yore. Believing that their Lord and Master is soon to return to earth, they study to make their hearts and lives ready for his appearing and kingdom. To them earnest prayer to their Father above is the key of the morning and the bolt of the night. By humble and godly lives they daily seek to make their calling and election sure. Their pious supplications ascend for all men—for the queen and all her councilors. Stealing and lying, adultery and murder, are unknown among them. They are not of that foolish kind who prepare ascension robes and set a time—a day or an hour—for the world to come to an end. Peculiar they are in some of their religious views. But in their lives they are quiet, respectable, inoffensive, hard-working men and women. One of these is the incarcerated man, John Mathews, the subject of this sketch. He is about 28 years of age, and earns a livelihood by working as a day laborer on the farm of Mr. Robert Watt, also a Seventh-day Adventist and ex-postmaster of Selton. On Sunday, July 7, John Mathews was cutting9 and raking hay. He had conscientiously rested upon the preceding day, which he believed to be the Sabbath. He was injuring no one, wronging no one, molesting no one. And now the sad part of the story commences. Now, indeed, it was that his life was to be “Darkened by shadows of earth.”
Some one was watching him. Some one was seeking to enforce a bad law which ought to have been long ago repealed, and which would better have never been passed. Suddenly, as like a bolt of thunder out of a clear sky, he found papers served upon him, bidding him appear before a justice and answer for his deeds. “Shadows of earth had darkened” his life. Shades, methinks, from the ill-omened Middle Ages, when Bloody Mary murdered Protestants because they were not Catholics, when Protestants butchered Puritans, when kingly hands of France were imbued in the blood of Huguenots, when men were burned at the stake and women whipped at the cart’s tail. Shades, yes, weird shades from the days of the first Christians, when staunch men and noble matrons and even tender girls suffered for their faith. Men and fashionable ladies were yachting on that July 7; trains bearing her majesty’s mails were running; engineers worked at the throttle and firemen at the tender, but they were not arrested. The screeching of the whistles, the clanging of the bells, though heard for miles around, disturbed no one’s peace of mind or religious rest. Strange, indeed, that the clicking of the mower should have this effect. John Mathews was summoned to appear before Justice George A. Watson, at Ridgetown, Saturday, August 10. He refused to appear on that day, on the plea that Saturday was the day which he observed as the Sabbath, but left word for Justice Watson, who was not in, that he would appear on any other day at any hour he should name, and, moreover, that no further notification than a postal card would be necessary. On Tuesday, August 13, he had his trial. Only one of the witnesses examined testified that his religious feelings were disturbed; and he was some 50 rods away from the place where the work was being done, and could only see it by looking through a grove of trees. The accused was indicted for violating c. 189, sec. 1 of the Revised Statutes of Ontario. The law is entitled, “An act to prevent the profanation of the Lord’s day.” Sec. 1 reads as follows:— “It is not lawful for any merchant, tradesman, artificer, mechanic, workman, laborer, or other person whatsoever, on the Lord’s day, to sell . . . or to do or exercise any worldly labor, business, or work of his ordinary calling.”
The accused admitted that he had worked on Sunday, but denied that Sunday was the Lord’s day. He argued that God himself alone had the right to say which was his day, and that he had distinctly declared in the fourth commandment that his day was the seventh day of the week, not the first. Justice Watson was kind and considerate to the prisoner, but fined him $5.00 and costs, amounting in all to $20.65, or thirty days in the county jail. Mr. Mathews refused to pay the fine, as to do so would be to acknowledge the justice of a religious law. He submitted quietly to the constable, who led him off to jail. On the way the officer left Mr. Mathews at the home of some of his (Mathews) friends, whilst he went down town on business. He was asked if he was not afraid to leave his criminal—if he did not think there was danger of his running away? “Why, no,” was the reply, “I would trust that man anywhere; he is so honest that if he were told to go down to the jail alone, he would go and deliver himself up.” Strange criminal, forsooth, but stranger by far the age that will call so good a man a criminal! What else but woe can await a government which puts behind its prison bars its noblest subjects? While the constable was down town attending to his business, this criminal was seeking his God in prayer—not planning an escape, not cursing his fate, not berating the government which allowed such iniquity to be practiced in the name of justice, but pleading for divine grace and for the blessing of God upon his persecutors. What a travesty of justice is this whole thing! In his narrow cell sits this prisoner. The Bible, his companion of all his trials, is in his hand. His face brightens; his eye lights up with a holy joy as he sees those words penciled by the Holy Ghost, “All they that live godly in Christ Jesus must suffer persecutions.” As the writer looked at the barred windows and high stone walls, as he gazed on the grated gates, he thought how little need there would be of these if all prisoners were like John Mathews. The good people at Selton mourn his absence, and pray for his deliverance. And to the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth daily ascend their prayers in behalf of their brother as being bound with him. Angels bear these prayers above and write them in the golden books. Some day those books will be opened, some day the Supreme Court of heaven will sit, and we know that “the Judge of all the earth will do right.” To that great Judge all men must give an account. By him each will be held responsible for his own deeds. These Adventists are not criminal characters. They are not malicious men and women. But when a law of the land conflicts with the law of God, they say with one of old, “We must obey God rather than man.”