01.03. Religious and Social Dissipation

Religious and Social Dissipation

There is nothing, perhaps, so strongly characteristic of this so-called "age of progress," as the hustle, bustle and excitement which are attendant upon it. The speed of the telegraph and the railway train seems typical of the rapid succession of events in everyday life; one engagement of business or of pleasure following so closely upon another, that there is little leisure for rest, much less for thoughtful reflection. In commerce, in trade, in literature, even in religion — the same, spirit is everywhere observable, and the busy torrent rushes ever onward, with such force and impetuosity, that few can avoid being carried away by it. Even the most sober and reserved are drawn into the whirl; and, notwithstanding protestations and regrets, plunge helplessly into the same exciting round of imagined duty. We are living literally in a "fast age" — an age of hurry and breathlessness, of superficial acquirements and outside show — an age of mad speculation, and desperate struggles, by any and every means, to acquire wealth.

Such may possibly be the consequence of the striving for improvement, which has been awakened by the rapid and general diffusion of knowledge among all classes of society, but it may be doubted whether it is conducive to strength and solidity of character, or to the formation of habits of deep and serious thought. To think has indeed become a somewhat rare acquirement in the present day, especially among the young.

"We have been," says a modern writer, Mr. Isaac Taylor, "during a long course of years, running hither and thither, spending our days in crowds. We have lost all relish for mental labor, have especially abhorred the toil of private meditation — and have applauded only that which tends to maintain and promote an artificial agitation of the spirit." The censure is sweeping — yet we fear it is but too just. Of this, however, we leave the reader to judge. But it is among the professors of religion that this spirit of excitement is chiefly to be deplored. We speak not now of those merely nominal disciples, who are still "of the earth, earthy" — but of those who have been truly "renewed in the spirit of their mind," and desire to reflect the image, as they bear the name, of a risen and ascended Savior. Will our younger sisters bear with us, while we affectionately entreat them to be on their guard against this growing evil, and to remember the injunction by the Apostle, to be "sober minded." Nor is the dissipation of which we speak less hurtful in its tendency, because it seems, at first sight, to bear the aspect of intense earnestness in religion. The same craving which leads one to the theater, the ball-room, or, perhaps, the ale-house — leads another to the crowded lecture-room or the exciting social meeting. It is the same spirit which, in very many instances, actuates both — though differing somewhat in its outward development. And, though in another manner, it is almost equally harmful to spiritual growth and health, and certainly does not tend to increase our love for the quiet and uneventful routine of home duties. But let us not be misunderstood. We are far, very far, from wishing to affirm that it is wrong to attend either meeting or lecture. Both are useful, and have done much to awaken the interest of the Christian public in those noble institutions which seem to be God’s chosen instruments for evangelizing the nations. We do not stop to inquire how much of this interest is genuine, and how much may be due to the attractions of eloquent and popular speakers — for, in this life, the evil must ever be mixed with the good — and, while we deplore the one, we must not overlook the other.

Moreover, we fully believe that, in every audience, there are many whose hearts beat high with pure love to the Savior, and with earnest desires for the extension of His kingdom. But we regret that attendance upon these things should so frequently be made the serious business of life, to the neglect of those less attractive yet sacred duties — which, as women, and more especially as Christian women, we are most assuredly guilty in neglecting. When we hear of a lady whose name is on every church committee, and whose place in the public assembly is never vacant — we tremble for the comfort of the domestic circle which is dependent upon her superintending care, and owes so much of its brightness to her presence. And even if this is scrupulously attended to, and her absence from home of no material importance, so that she can conscientiously say that "these things she has done," while she has not "left the others undone," we should still fear for her own individual welfare. For if, to the time thus spent, is added that devoted to visiting, to morning calls and quiet evening parties, it will be manifest that but a small portion is left. Even the holy Sabbath brings with it no rest, for so much of it is absorbed by other claims, that there is but little leisure for communion with God in solitude.

We are aware that we touch upon a delicate subject, and that the question is one which demands wise and skillful handling. Yet we venture, in all Christian faithfulness, to suggest the inquiry, whether such a state of things is likely to promote the increase of real and personal piety? Is it not true that, among many, the standard of Christianity has, of late years, become visibly lower? that but few, even of the professing children of God, live up to the full measure of their privileges, as heirs expectant of a glorious kingdom? and that a large proportion of them are lingerers in the "border-country," ever looking wistfully back to the world which they have renounced, and striving to introduce into their religion a measure of its spirit.

Instead of the Church purifying the world — the tendency is far too much in the contrary direction, and the world secularizes the Church. If this is so, then may we not say, in the words of Scripture, "Is there not a cause?" And may not that cause be traced to the neglect of that close walking with God, in the secret exercises of the closet, by which alone the flame of heavenly love in the soul can be kept burning clear and bright? Wrong, indeed, would it be, to undervalue those precious means of grace which are as wells of refreshing to our faint and weary souls — yet we are persuaded that more entire dependence upon God, and less on man — more study of His word, and less of the works of human teachers, more searching into our own hearts, and considering our own ways, would bring down upon our own souls and upon the church of God yet larger measures of the Holy Spirit’s blessing.

We must not permit the streams, however precious, to draw us away from the overflowing spring. We have need to take heed, lest, while we are wandering about from one ministry to another, in the eager endeavor to gratify that taste for novelty, which, in these days, is so unhappily prevalent — we come under the condemnation of those who "heap to themselves teachers, having itching cars." It is best to keep to the fountain which is opened for us, provided only that its waters are pure. We shall scarcely gain from others, really lasting benefit and strength.

It is quite possible, that, while we are "busy here and there" about the externals of religion — the Holy Comforter may be grieved, and His warning voice neglected. The flower of divine grace in the soul is too tender, too delicate a gem to bear unprotected exposure, even in the busy religious world. It can flourish only when nurtured by prayer, and unceasingly watered by the "silent dew" of the Spirit.

Nay, more — let us remember that, even while we are anxiously caring for the souls of others, we may endanger the peace, if not the safety, of our own, and so be compelled mournfully to exclaim, "They made me the keeper of vineyards — but my own vineyard have I not kept." Thus our work for God must fail of its intended results, for all words that are not "heart-deep" will be powerless, and we cannot teach lessons which we have not learned ourselves. And though, for a season, the fruit of our labor may seem fair and flourishing, it will not stand the test of that fast-approaching day, when "every man’s work shall be tried by fire, of what sort it is."

We say this, not as countenancing any sickly and cowardly shrinking from active exertion for Christ’s sake, for we believe that the hardest working Christians will ever be the strongest and the happiest. Those who water others will be themselves most abundantly watered; and, forgetting their own doubts and fears and misgivings, will go forward with unfaltering step, singing, as they go, a new song of praise and thanksgiving. But let them guard against the excitement attendant upon their work. Let them see that it never comes between them and God, or interferes with their seasons of privacy and devotion. Let this be their motto: "I seek not mine own glory!" Let them be content to have self hidden — and Christ alone exalted, and careful "Less to serve Him much,
Than to please Him perfectly."

We have alluded to the works of man — and the Word of God. And is it not a danger of our time, when "religious" books are so very plentiful, that they may, perhaps, lessen our relish for the simple teaching of Holy Scripture? Is not this one form in which our religious dissipation manifests itself? There is a constant craving for something new in the world of books; and not to have seen the last-issued periodical is almost equivalent to being altogether out of step with the religious world. There are also so many excellent works for devotional use that it is not by any means impossible that we may learn to depend on them, rather than on that inspired Word — the "entrance" of which can alone "give light." We do not undervalue these helps. Rather would we give God thanks for them. But we must keep them in their proper place. We must not allow the ’Daily Portion’ to satisfy us, without being also fed by the "Bread of Life." We may be strengthened and encouraged in our way by the lives of holy men and women who have passed away from among us to the better rest — but they must not beguile us from the study of the life and character of the Master whom they served; still less should we set them up as models, or be saddened and discouraged because we do not in all things resemble them. "There are diversities of operations, but it is the same Spirit that works all in all." Do not, then, weary yourself in a fruitless effort to keep up with the press. It will do you no good, either mentally or spiritually.

Especially watch against the fascinating attraction of the current light literature of the day. Works of fiction are, to a certain extent, useful and beneficial — but we must not indulge in their perusal to the neglect of more solid reading. They will dissipate, more than they will strengthen, and are not infrequently made the medium of conveying the most deadly error. But make the Book the "man of your counsel." Feed upon this heavenly food — live by it, grow by it. Let it be your guide, your comfort, your strength, your all.

Let the "Word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom." Let it be interwoven with the warp and woof of your being. Pray that it may be illuminated by the Holy Spirit — that your eyes may be opened to see the wondrous things which are written therein, and your heart prepared to receive it with lowly meekness, as God’s message to your own soul. Thus will you be enabled to say, with the sweet Psalmist of old, "Your testimonies have I taken as an heritage forever, for they are the rejoicing of my heart!" But we are to speak of social, as well as of religious dissipation — and therefore must not omit to say a few words on this subject also. We will not allude, at present, to that still more important topic of worldly conformity, which we reserve for distant consideration, but simply to those every-day claims of society which are often felt to be so engrossing and oppressive. In the first place, then, it must be admitted that these claims are imperative, and not to be set aside. It is not by indolently retreating from society that our mission in it is to be fulfilled — but by impressing upon it the stamp of Christian character, and leavening it with the influence of Christian principle. It is not possible for us to go out of the world — and it would not be advisable if it were; but, while in it, we must seek to be like the river, which, as Rutherford says, "keeps its own fresh taste in the salt sea." The Christian in society has a difficult path to tread, beset with dangers on this side and on that. For if, on the one hand, something must be conceded to its claims — it is, on the other, lamentable to think of the precious hours which are wasted in conversation which is often worse than trifling, and this even among those who are partakers of the same blessed hope, and fellow-pilgrims to the same abiding home. Christian meets Christian, as worldling meets worldling; they breathe the air of the wilderness — and they speak as if it were their rest; the things of the kingdom are not upon their lips, and their speech is seldom "sanctified by the Word of God and by prayer."

"How often," says Hewitson, "are we compelled to hide our selves in the secret of God’s presence from the strife even of some of His own children’s tongues! How many speak to you with as much earnestness, about the vanities of this passing world, as if they were still of the world, and not born from above!" Are hours thus spent, likely to help us in our way to Heaven? Are they calculated to promote spirituality? Are they not rather in accordance with the "spirit that is of the world," than with the "spirit that is of God?" Do they not deaden the fervor of our devotions? Do they not weigh down the wings of faith, and prevent it from soaring upward to the bright realities of eternity?

It is true that, in our morning visits and evening gatherings, the glittering display of the ball-room may be lacking, but is there less excitement, less frivolity, less waste of time? My sisters, these things ought not to be! If the light of our Father’s countenance is hidden from us, if the "consolations of God are small with us" — then let us search and see! Let us seek out and bring to light, the secret thing which separates between us and our God. Is He not grieved by our lightness, our earthliness? Does He not often knock at the door of our hearts, and gain no entrance there — because, in the din of other voices, His warnings and entreaties are unheeded? Can we, then, marvel if He withdraws Himself from us in displeasure?

Oh, let us beware. Let us stop in time. Let us dare to be singular. Rather any consequences — than that the luster of our heavenly inheritance should be tarnished, even a little! But even if our own growth in grace be not hindered by this spirit of dissipation; if home duties and the responsibilities of friendship are remembered; the intellectual powers must run to waste, and there can be little time for that mental culture which forms a most important item in the right occupation of our talents.

Yet it is a more easy matter to point out evils, than to devise remedies for them, especially when, as in the case before us, none can judge correctly of the duty of another. Some are compelled, by their social position, to mingle much more in society than others, and to such, though the path is one of danger, it is still one of duty. He who "divides to every man severally as He will," has appointed them a special work, which they are to do in His name and to His glory. They are to be social missionaries, bearing their Master’s message where, perhaps, it might not otherwise find an entrance. They are to lay rank, wealth, and talents, on the "altar which sanctifies the gift," and then, instead of being entangled by their snares and dangers — they will make the offering to God the more costly, and their entire consecration to Him the more visible and impressive in the eyes of the world. Thus may they pass onward to their rest, "Holy fragrance around them flinging, Luring others in the way."

Only let them beware of concealing the cross which they wear. Let them be recognized everywhere as the disciples of Christ, not having one character for the closet and another for the drawing-room — but alike in all places, and in all companies, displaying the badge of Him, "whose they are, and whom they serve."

Let their eye be single in their Master’s service, and their lips ever ready to confess His name. Let them remember also, that, if we are to "live for God in the world — we must live much with God apart from the world." We must be anointed daily with the fresh anointing of the Spirit, and have our hearts touched with a "live coal from off the altar" — so that we may think, and speak, and act, in the ever-abiding consciousness that we are not our own, but are "bought with a price."

Watchfulness is also needed, lest inconsistency should bring disgrace upon our Christian profession. There must be no blot upon the "living epistles" — no stain upon the garments of those who have been "washed in the blood of the Lamb." But there are very many who can shield their social dissipation behind no plea of duty. They are fettered only by the opinion of others, or the usage of society. They allow themselves to be drawn into a multitude of acquaintances, and involved in an endless succession of unnecessary engagements, simply because they lack the moral courage requisite to say, " No." And thus a worm is permitted to feed at the very root of their religion; the graces of the Spirit wither; the privileges of sonship are forgotten; the sacred hours of retirement are invaded by thoughts of things "seen and temporal;" home-work is crowded into the shortest possible space, and the calls to labor in the Master’s vineyard are hastily put aside. The stimulus of artificial excitement, once needless — now becomes essential, and life, without it, is scarcely endurable! Shall there not be a reckoning for these things? Will they pass by, and leave no trace behind them? Dear reader, do not allow yourself to be held fast within these iron shackles. Break through them, cast them from you, while yet you are able. Remember the high calling with which you are called as a citizen of the heavenly Jerusalem. Take heed — you stand on slippery ground. Hasten away from it. Escape for your life; lest, perhaps, the net of the destroyer be woven about you, and your feet never stand within the golden gates of the celestial city!

Thousands have perished where you are now, and thousands more, instead of having an "abundant entrance" ministered unto them, have been "saved so as by fire." Remember the admonition to "avoid even the appearance of evil," to "hate even the garment spotted by the flesh." And, before all else, pray for that realizing faith which will enable you to look at the things of time in the light of a coming eternity. Then will the present world be kept in its proper place, as a shadow that is quickly disappearing into the past, though its record is laid up in the never ending future. You will learn to "endure, as seeing Him who is invisible," and so to keep yourself, "unspotted from the world." The consciousness that the Savior’s eye is ever upon you, will guard you from everything that may grieve Him — and the brightness of His smile will be your support in every difficulty. You will find that, in the strength which He can give, every crooked place will be made straight, and every rough place plain before you; so that, leaning on an unseen arm, stayed by a invisible hand — yet felt, you may go from grace to grace, until at length, when your Father’s work on earth shall be ended, you joyfully pass from grace to glory!