Religion and Solemnity
“Perfect love casteth out fear.”~i John iv. 18.
The fear here spoken ot is that produced by solemnity. St. John says that the sense of religious solemnity declines as religion deepens, until love becomes perfect — when it vanishes altogether. This is not the common view. The common view is that the idea of God is essentially the most solemn thought in the world. How often do you speak of the solemnity of meeting God! You advocate the preparation for death on this ground. You look upon the physical forces of the world as devoid of solemnity — as things you can meet every day without a sense of mystery and without a touch of awe. But to meet God! to meet the Author of your being! — that you feel to be an awful thing, a thing not to be accomplished readily. Now, this is not my opinion. The idea of God is, to me, the least solemn thought in the universe. It may sound startling to say so; yet I feel that my sentiment is founded in reason. I have more relation to God than to any object in Nature — just because he ts the Author ot my being. I know more about Hwt than I do about anything surrounding me; above all, I know that He comprehends me. I am an agnostic about everything else. I am an agnostic about matter, and therefore I am very solemn in its presence. I do not understand it, and I am quite sure it does not understand me. What does the sun know about me! what does the tree know about me! I am a foreigner to them; they are foreigners to me. But God is related to me; God is allied to me; God is my Father. He is the only presence that is not a mystery to me, that does not make me feel awe-struck. My hour of solemnity is my hour in the temple of Nature!
And I come to Thee, my Father, to get that solemnity removed. I come to Thee as the only being who can lift my solemnity from surrounding things. I want one friend in the world — one whom I know, one who knows me. I want someone who will lead me through the mystic labyrinth of the things of sense, and make me feel less strange in the world. When I stand below the stars without Thee I say with Jacob, “How dreadful is this place!” Take away the dread, my Father! Light this solemn world with Thy smile! Dispel with Thy voice the solitude I feel! Guide me amid the things I know not, the things that know not me! It is not death I am afraid of; it is life — life without Thee. Life without Thee is too solemn, too awful, too weird a thing. I must hear a familiar voice if I would brave unfamiliar forms; only trust can stop my trembling, only love can cast out fear. There is no place prepared for me in Nature’s mansions till I have met Thy Christ. The Beautiful Gate of the Temple is too beautiful without Htm; I lie lame and impotent before it. Show me a warm fire within — love’s fire, heart’s fire; and in that hour the solemnity will pass away, and I shall walk through the Beautiful Gate “leaping, and praising God!”