brings men together. Communion, fellowship, these
are the first words they learn. It has been so
from the beginning. One of the great Christians
of the apostolic age admonished his converts against
“forsaking the assembling of themselves together,”
and that admonition has always been heeded. No
other religion has brought people together so constantly
and in so many ways as Christianity has done.
Christian people are always getting together, to pray
together, to sing together, to partake together of
the sacraments, to listen together to the teaching
of the pulpit, to study the Bible together, to take
counsel together about their work, to unite their
efforts, in manifold cooeperations, for the upbuilding
of the Kingdom. They have even come to believe—and
they are profoundly right about it—that
it is a good thing for people to come together just
for the sake of being together, even when no distinctly
religious business assembles them. To establish
and promote pleasant and amicable social relations
between human beings is a Christian thing to do.
It is a sign of the progress of the Kingdom, and a
preparation for it, when men and women enjoy meeting
one another for no other reason than that they like
to be together. It is a condition of the manifestation
of the love which is the fulfilling of all law.
The stranger, as many languages testify, is apt to
be the enemy. The chief reason why he is dreaded
and hated is that he is not known. Acquaintance
allays suspicion and promotes sympathy and kindness.
Not the least of the services which Christianity has
rendered to the world may be seen in what it has accomplished
in bringing human beings together socially. Setting
aside its purely religious function, it has done,
in Europe and America, more than all other agencies
put together to promote acquaintances and neighborly
relations among men. It has done, as we shall
see by and by, far less than it ought to have done
in this direction; its failures in this department
of its work have been manifold and grievous; but after
all this is admitted, it must still be affirmed that
it has done most of what has been done to socialize
mankind, and no other institution or agency is entitled
to throw stones at it because of its deficiencies.
When, therefore, those who read these chapters hear
the criticisms and cavils to which I referred at the
beginning, they will know how to reply to them.
When they hear an argument which assumes that the
church is worse than useless because all social institutions
are worse than useless, they may answer that the reasoning
is unsound, because it repudiates the deepest facts
of human nature; that social institutions, the church
among them, are natural growths as truly as the cornfields
and the forests.