■•'.-.■■ : ■ . /. ' I ■ \ : ■ - l ■ I KBPKV- »..■■- i H '. LIFE'S BIGGEST >>> Ten Human Mysteries. By Rev. C Fr Wimberly, B. A., D. D. *W > . 1 Pentecostal Publishing Company, Louisville, Kentucky. 3>* it*" COPYRIGHTED FEBRUARY 1911 BY PENTECOSTAL PUBLISHING COMPANY. LOUISVILLE, KY. F£B -9/ 9 | 7 CIA {53 983 ... -J Q INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. There is nothing so mysterious as life; within the human body there are millions of things that no 'philosopher has ever been able to understand. Think of all the functions of the body whidh are purely human — yes, animal; yet they are united, entwined, and fused with the divine part — the eternal and immortal in us. The actions of either may be sep- arate, yet, both must suffer alike with the other. Actions entirely within the sphere of the human may bring eternal retribution to the soul; in like manner the body is often called upon to suffer from the conduct of things done in die realm of mind and spirit. The more we undertake the solution of ourselves — this human riddle — the more hopeless it becomes. The purpose of these pages, is to study some of the many difficult problems, that have given to us many sleepless nights and anxious days. We Four are all alike — strangely akin ; that which is a mystery to one — we mean of course such as are serious enough to think at all — the mystery for one is the same to an- other. We do not promise, that all of life's difficulties will be treated or ex- plained in this booklet; nor can we hope that, the reader may find satisfaction for life's perplexities by this brief discussion; but we trust that some light may come to die pathway of many who have felt, as the reader has felt — the inextricable meshes, so often hindering us in the long pilgrimage. We are all feeling in die dark — yea, we are children crying in the night. The heart yearns for light and peace, and we wish for this message a reception — in the same spirit which prompted its preparation. LIFE'S BIGGEST ? ? ? Life is a big question mark. The babe in th ecradle mutely tries to know and 1 understand the unknowable-— it reaches, looks and doubtless wonders. In childhood and youth the eternal mys- tery of things enlarge with the fleeting days ; as the skyline moves out, and the horizon, recedes in maturer years, the floodtide of Why, How, What and Whence, grows more complicated. At five thirty, one December evening, it being dark, a man stumbled from the factory gridiron, tired and depressed, just as the blazing lights from the super- intendent's auto dazzled his eyes, carry- ing that gentleman to a comfortable home in a distant part of the city. It was dark that morning as the human ma- chine -bolted his coarse breakfast, leav- ing the little ones asleep, and thus had been his life for more than ten years. As the superintendent's car swished around the corner, this lump of immor- Six tal substance, known as a man, but val- ued only as so many kilowatts, or dyna- mo power, remarked to a companion, 'Why was I ever born? I've led noth- ing but a dog's life ; never had a day of real pleasure, since I can remember.' There you are, wihy is it? What this hopeless laborer felt that night has clutched millions of worthy hearts, since the race began its grim mardh from time to eternity. Many, oh, so many toil on, satisfied in their poverty and suffering, and never ask why. They see others favored and bountifully sup- plied, and are never disturbed over it; but all who can find time in their mad race and fight for bread, will surely feel the same pangs, this man felt. The man who lives — or ekes out an existence — knowing nothing but want from earliest recollections — sees his own child, poor- ly clad and underfed, cannot help but contrast this situation with the child of opulence, being rolled along the street in a baby carriage, costing as much as he had earned for a month. The one is Seven no more responsible for its lot than the other; but one must shamble from the cradle to the grave — fighting for every inch of ground — in a way, unwelcomed perchance at birth, and crowded to the wall, as it were all through life. The other is protected, loved, pushed to the front, given power and prestige from the start. No wonder, this father cries out : "Why was I ever born?" We are in a universe of phenomena, animate and inanimate, and the solving of problems, getting at the why, is the foundation of all mind development. Life's labors and anxieties are largely spent getting the whys, and he who can solve most of them becomes the wisest. Most of the tragedies of this planet grow out of men's inability to reach satisfac- tory conclusions. A beautiful young woman strolled through a city park the other day, was casually observed by the guard, whereupon, she walked to the boating lake, removed her hat and coat, and sprang into the icy waters. A note was found on her person which read : Eight 'There was no use trying, this was the only way out. I played and lost. What of it?' She had been unable to solve the mystery of life; she got lost in the meshes. There are problems and problems, new and old; some as old as the race. Some of the oldest and most important remain still on the docket. A veil hangs before us ; in a thousand wonderful ways we are piercing the veil of mystery; but with many, oh, so many, it is "deep call- ing unto deep.' All we hear is the echo of our voice from out the darkness. They will remain until the Great Day. 2IL ££> 2JL 2JL 2JL 2JL SIL •t* tx ^x^ ^i^ ^r^ ^r^ ^x^ We ask, therefore, first of all : Why are roe here? Is it by accident, in the great mechanical movements of the uni- verse; did we just happen; are we just an accidental spark struck from the fric- tion of time and things ; is life a haphaz- ard thing of chance? Or is it true we were in the infinite mind of God, He who foreknew and foresaw the end from the beginning? Does He real'ly know Nine and are we a part of His gigantic plan ; we that are only atoms — not comparable to a grain of sand in the Sahara, When the infinitude about us is considered. Not a few have apologized for any lapses, mistakes, or reckless living, be- cause, they say: 'I had nothing to do with being here; I did not fashion my own nature; I am what I am — not from my own choice. Some one is respon- sible for this life — just as it is. How can I help being dishonest, impure, and base in my nature. I am just as I found myself. I shall face my Creator with an indictment, more serious than He can dare bring against me. Why should I be punished for following inclinations born in me? I can no more help being what I am, than I can help being born in the world.' Who can say ought against this man's deduction? He has come face to face with one of life's grim mysteries. To those who are incapable of going beneath the surface, there is much hard truth in the proposition. No greater mystery than ourselves; Ten if we study the problem of self for a life- time, we will reach only to the border- land of an unexplored continent. "Know then, thyself, presume not God to scan, The greatest study for mankind is man.' Yet, we can fathom the mystery of God, just as easily as we can understand the mystery of our own being. Why are we here ? On the surface of things, there seems to be a gigantic blunder somewhere; however, we are here. It is useless to conjecture about what might have been otherwise ; the issue must be met. We are here with passions capable of loving, hating and feeling. What we do with this life — the interpretation we put upon it, makes for us in weal or woe. This much of the problem we have solved. •yi *X* •$* *X* •$• *J* *$• *J* Second. Why is the moral universe so strangely adjusted? Good and evil are so mixed, that it is next to impossible to separate them. All the doors to wrong are either open, or the latch Eleven string hangs on the outside; it is easy to get an entrance into every forbidden garden ; the forbidden fruit hangs with- in easy reach — "take and eat," and wel- come. No bolts, no keys, no grim walls shut us out from things that are wrong. There is a wide-open door, and a press- ing welcome awaiting us at every cor- ner; a place, and an opportunity to in- dulge that side of our nature, which will inevitably debase and wreck. We are taught that God is the Creator of all things, and the moral governor of this universe ; yet, there is a strange twist in die arrangements of things conducive to good and evil. This situation is not the vision of a distorted brain; but a grim, terrible truth, and one that has caused many to stagger. Then, still more problematic; each wrong is followed by a penalty, yes, ex- treme penalty, "thou shalt not come from thence, until thou hast paid the ut- most farthing/ That is the reading of nature's inexorable laws. Help your- self, but remember the penalty. The Twelve physical and moral laws keep close tab on us and we must receive retribution for all the evil we do. Just as noticeable, on the odier hand, we find that doors to the best and the good are closely barred. He who sees an easy road to being and doing good, is ignorant of his own nature, and ob- servations of life as it acted out around us. Why is it so hard to get men to be re- ligious? Why does it require an eternal struggle to keep religious propaganda alive? If the agencies for good are equal to the evil, and even stronger, why do sin, luke-warmness and backslidings come easily and without effort, and why does righteousness require the most strenuous battle all the time? *I fight," says Paul. It is a warfare all the way, but Why is it? The figure Paul uses here to illustrate the Christian pro- gramme — suggests a fierce, powerful enemy. If one inspired as was this great Apostle, must contend with the "p° wers of the darkness of this world," then our proposition is sustained, as to something Thirteen being woefully wrong. All the fight- ing is on one side of the proposition. On the side of wrong — there is the toboggan slide — the visible and invisible currents — trade winds — eternal pulling toward that which is wrong. We repeat our question : Why is this moral universe so strangely adjusted? It is an age-did question, and there is yet to be born the philosopher who can answer satisfacto- rily. *fc sfe *t* *& *l* >J* *&? *I» *!* *l* *j* »|» *|* *j» *^ «j» «|* 5j* Third. Why are the real, worth- while things so obscure? All the roads to wrong and evil may be traveled by the "five senses.' An easy, well beat- en path. No guide is necessary, no map or chart, no log book or compass. Sail in any direction and find that it will bring the craft upon the breakers. Near- ly all die battles, and most of the trag- edies of life come about through the av- enues of our natural senses. The glut- ton, the drunkard, the libertine, the fool- ish votaries of fashion — all become en- snared by the natural propensities of our Fourteen bodies. Hie child thrown on the world, as driftwood, without the barriers of home and education, ninety-nine times in a hundred, will soon be a slave to his passions. A law is discovered — fierce and powerful, and few if any, have will power enough to brook its demands. Even When environment is as good as it can be made — speaking comparatively — the same warfare goes on, and victory usually falls on the side of the animal. No trouble whatever, to lose out, drift, and wreck all that is high and holy in us — by simply following an impulse of the senses. On die other hand, we travel eternal- ly on the road "by faith," to get the things that make up real life, in its full- est and purest sense. 'The just shall live by faith.' It is always reaching into the dark, grappling with the invisi- ble. This is true, whether in mental, moral, or spiritual development. We must follow an invisible leader. If we depend on the things we see and taste, and handle and smell, and hear, the end Fifteen is uncertain, if not dangerous. Evil on every bulletin board; the good sought and found by faith. Now, if a great and beneficent ruler fashioned the machinery of this planet, Why are the worth-while things of life so hard to attain ? When we remember how few can see the Invisible — so few can walk, except by sight — the why of it, becomes harder to fathom. We can become schooled in evil — long before we can exercise any of the stronger pow- ers of our being. If it is a contest be- tween the good and evil — as to which shall be our master — then the evil has all the advantages; in other words: evil 'beats the good to it.' This is a plain every-day fact; serious as we believe it to be — it is nevertheless true. Then why is it? *X* •¥• •¥• *J# •¥• *J* *j* •J* Fourth. Following naturally upon the above question, comes another — very similar; one that is merely a dif- ferent statement of the same proposition. Why is it so much easier to sin, than not Sixteen to sin? Sin is natural — righteous- ness seems to be unnatural. How many apologize for sinning on the ground, that it is natural, and cannot be helped. Any one who denies that this proposition is over-drawn, is not a student of facts or folks. Is all this an accident? Does it so happen that it is thus. Are we liv- ing in a world of chance — things just take their own course, and no power can prevent it being so ? We are brought back to another ques- tion — one we have noticed before : who allowed matters to take this awful and tragic turn? Did a loving Father have it to be so? He who cannot look with any degree of allowance upon sin; yet, here is a race of immortal beings opening their eyes in a strange world, knowing nothing of its nature or demands. The first dawn of reason finds us over-pow- ered by an internal warfare, with all the strength, delights, allurements, and charm on the side of the things, which are discovered by and by, to be evil, and to be followed by retribution and pun- Seventeen i^hment to the fullest extent. Does it not appear, that few are able to meet this strange inconsistency, and not revolt against sudi an organization — such a government of affairs? Must all who cannot fathom such dark, mysterious paradoxies — that is just what they are — paradoxies, if we view this from the standpoint of God as the only wise Cre- ator and preserver of all things, — be made to suffer for it? Where must the re- sponsibility be placed? Are the 1,500,- 000,000 people living on the earth re- sponsible? No, shouts every voice of reason and justice. Is God responsible? No, dedlares the Scriptures. 'He tempts no man of evil/ Then, some wise philosopher please come forward and tell us why it is easier to Sin than NOT TO SIN. The fact remains, and every tired pilgrim — fighting to reach the skies, will agree that it is. But why is it? •J* *J# *J* •Jil %J# *Tt* *3f* *J* Fifth. Why is the human heart so constituted, that it can never be satis- Eighteen fied? The heart is truly a bottomless pit; the plummet has never touched the place where room was lacking. The individual who lives only for sensuous enjoyment: the gratification of passion, an inordinate ambition, accumulation of weaith, seeking power, there is no end. Just what Alexander and Napoleon sought in world affairs, many Americans seek in piling up great fortunes. No man in Wall Street has yet withdrawn from the exchange announcing that he had all the money he wanted. Never! When we read in the Word, that there is a place, in the realm beyond, designated as a "bottomless pit,'" reason at once revolts: it is unscientific, unrea- sonable. But every human being car- ries the same thing — even within the breast. Railroads, more railroads, more steamship lines, more gold mines — more spacious quarters, more dainty food- stuffs, more purple and fine linen — more pleasure — more everything. The heart can literally hold all these things, and instead of filling up, enlarges the capac- Nineteen ity. A Wall Street magnet, worth $200,000,000, was known to refuse to pay for a shine of his shoes, or pay the little newsboy for a paper — just because he happened to own the property where these things were sold — and he just did not have to pay for them. If the eter- nal world is just what our Book tells us, the bottomless pit is the most reasonable thing imaginable. Think of carrying all our powers and passions over the ''great divide,' ever to be hungering, gnawing, yearning — yet, never to be gratified — a sinking, bottomless pit. The same hunger is seen in acquiring higher and even holy things, the mind and soul can never be satisfied. The same hoping, yearning, longing, aspiring for something more. The saint ever looks forward to deeper and brighter ex- periences; the student delves deeper into the truths of the universe, but never leaves off an expectancy of greater dis- coveries. Something else yet to be real- ized ; it is coming, but not yet. Truly, we are pilgrims and strangers here; we Twenty dwell, as it were, in a wilderness with no abiding city; the eternal hunger is ever present — seeking "a city that hath foundation, whose builder and maker is God.' Why is it, we can never be sat- isfied? MM M M M 3ft M 3fc •a* ~A~ ~1~ *X* 1* A X *A Sixth. WTrp do those who seem to care least for their fellowmen, for the thing worth while, generally prosper? The sordid and selfish seem to have few if any worrries. Their eyes stand out in fatness, as David said; their feet never seem to slip while he, himself, was borne down with cares and troubles. Those who are fighting for moral reforms, the liquor traffic, white slave traffic, etc., must do in poverty. Millions are availa- ble for purposes that blight and destroy. Think of what might be done in lift- ing tihis sin-burdened world, if only the resources were available. Our nation will spend enough building one battle- ship, for the purpose of destroying hu- man life, which if it were used in evan- gelization, would more than double our Twenty-One force in the field. England spends enough trying to secure some South Af- rican diamonds to place a missionary, with a chapel in every nook and corner in the world. Those of us who are trying to lift the race, must do it in our poverty ; what we do must be divided from the bare neces- sities of life. Why is it, that the multi- millionaires never get a vision; why is it that the ones who see and feel so much of the world's tragedy, cannot prosper in the things, they might use so well. Looking helplessly on the scene of human wretchedness, the heart cries out : "O God!' 1 I cried, "why may I not for- get? These ha'lt and hurt in life's hard battle Throng me yet. Am I their keeper? Only I — to bear This constant burden of their grief and care? Why must I suffer for the other's sin? Would that my eyes had never opened been!" Twenty-Two That is exactly the way we feel, and Who has not felt it? Another strange fact in this connection, those who have been the world's greatest benefactors have been our greatest sufferers. Some- how the men and women who have spent themselves trying to lift the race, have been persecuted by the objects for whom they labored. Why is it? 'Truth forever on the scaffold. Wrong forever on the throne?" But human history gives but few ex- ceptions. The block, the rack, the gib- bet, the gallows, the stake, and the dun- geon have been die lot of those who sought to bless and save men. There is a tremendous twist in the affairs of this world.. Oh, a few exceptions may be found — where rewards came to living benefactors, but they are so few, writers, musicians, reformers, die usually unher- alded, and unsung. Why is it? Look for a moment at a survey of his- tory: Jehoikim on the throne, Jeremiah in a dungeon ; Herod on the throne, John Twenty-Three the Baptist in a dungeon ; Pilate on the throne, Jesus Christ a prisoner before him ; Nero on the throne, Paul a prisoner under a death sentence ; Caligula on the throne, Polycarp burning at a stake; a Medici on the throne, in league with Pope Alexander VI., and Savonarola hanging on a gallows; a Dauphin on the throne, Joan of Arc in flames; James the I. on the throne, John Bunyan in prison. Many, many similar examples might be mentioned. Why is all this? •J* *Xt *X^ ^Xr ^*r ^V^ ^T^ ^»^ Seventh. Why is there such a diver- sity of gifts and talents? Among the seething millions, only a few, very few, achieve success. Now and then, one will forge to the front, overcome obsta- cles, get above the crowd, and win the race. Even then it is only vanity; to- day they are, tomorrow, they are not. But, the ones who seem to be doomed to plod, and dig, and fail, and suffer, can be numbered by millions. Ninety-five men in every one hun- dred, are dependent upon charity at the Twenty-Four age of sixty-five; only two men in one hundred leave enough: to pay funeral ex- penses, with one year's rations for fam- ily. Only five in one hundred leave an estate of $1 ,000. Failure is written all over the face of the humanity. Some- thing has, or is killing the will power, the ability to succeed in life's battle. Why is strength of character so lacking among us. Manhood, womanhood, girlhood — so few of them — can stem the tide at all. They play and lose. If there is a des- tiny in the affairs of men, which, if taken at the flood, will lead on to fortune — why so few ever see it. They do not — it seems they can not; it is one long toil- some plodding from cradle to grave. Just a little spot of sunshine here and there — but mostly clouds. He who doubts this situation, does not know life as it is lived out before us. A few have no room wherein they can bestow their goods, while the multitude scramble daily for a bare living. Most of us are mediocre, and below; defeated in life's battle while in the cradle. Who Twenty-Five is to blame, when a child is born in a home where they breathe mental, moral, and physical filth; then turned out stunt- ed and dwarfed in body, mind and soul? That child fails, certainly, it sins, it fol- lows only the laws of life it knows. The anima'l ! While on earth, the state pun- ishes, and eternity awaits for her chance to mete out a just retribution — so say all. Another child comes upon the stage at the opposite side, given all the advantages, nourished and cherished, even before birth, preparatory to meet the battles of life. Why is it? •X* *T* *X* *I* *I*