Decision Day

by Ronald R Johnson

A page from the sermon “The Wilderness,” preached by Lloyd C Douglas at the First Congregational Church of Ann Arbor on 2/15/1920. In Sermons [5], Box 3, Lloyd C. Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan. © University of Michigan.

“Jesus was entering upon his life work, jubilant of heart. He did not journey into the Jeshimon Wilderness over a Via Dolorosa. He was led up. All the bright hopes of the future led him up. He had a career before him. He had found his Father, God. His Father was very real to him — not circumscribed by books and laws and holy buildings, but accessible to all His children, regardless of race or country. Someday soon [Jesus] would return and tell the story of his discovery of this spiritual Father.

“Just now, he wished to be alone…”

Lloyd Douglas is speaking to students at the University of Michigan (among others), and he is about to tell the story of Christ’s temptations in the wilderness. This is from a sermon entitled, “The Wilderness,” preached by Lloyd C. Douglas at the First Congregational Church of Ann Arbor on February 15, 1920. (In Sermons [5], Box 3, Lloyd C. Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan. © University of Michigan.)

“There comes a time in every story when all the circumstances, episodes, and incidents of the narrative seem to have converged upon one focal point which is to stand as a sort of decision day. A casual event of a few chapters earlier, passed as merely possessing a touch of color now bobs up wearing a very determined air. And so, when all of these circumstances, accumulated along the way, strike that point of focus where there are some great choices to be made, between love and duty perhaps, or between resignation and struggle, this day and hour and place and condition are encircled with a blue pencil and named ‘The Crisis.’ After that there are definite results which follow as the night the day.

“After the Macbeths have murdered their royal guests, we expect just one eventuality; for murder will out. After King Lear has repudiated his faithful daughter and trusted himself to the tender mercies of flattery and duplicity, we know exactly what will be the end of it. After the senators have finally rounded up enough influences to assure the destruction of Caesar and have planned the crime and gone home to make ready the fateful hour, we ourselves might easily compose the rest of the story. After the moneychangers have been scourged out of the temple, we understand that the cross is already in the making. When the crisis has been reached, the catastrophe is inevitable….

“Jesus is tempted to misuse his divine power by producing bread. It was not a question of starvation for him. He was hungry because he had gone out voluntarily where there was no food to be had. When he finds himself dangerously hungry, in peril of his life through starvation, he may easily retrace his steps out of the wilderness and find food.

“The problem was, What use should he make of his newfound power? For he was conscious now of his ability to perform extraordinary deeds.

“‘Here is all this wonderful energy,’ he was saying. ‘Let me test it out. I am hungry. I need bread. Why should I not use my power to provide food?’

“And as the sense of his power, on the one hand, and his hunger, on the other, associated themselves in his mind, he felt that much could be said in favor of doing this thing. To be sure, he could find bread by going back where bread was to be had. But it was good for him to be out here in this wilderness, planning his campaign. He ought not to be inconvenienced by hunger. It seemed like a temptation of necessity….

“How often do we get ourselves into trouble through such faulty logic as deals with a so-called problem of necessity. A man gives his customers short weight and adulterated goods because an ungodly competition makes it necessary. Overworks and underpays his employees because industrial rivalry makes it necessary. Lies to forward his business interests because if he does not lie, he can’t compete with his rivals — the lie therefore being necessary.

“Sometimes he says, ‘A man must live,’ not meaning that he is likely to die but that a man must live up to a certain standard of convenience, wealth, and luxury….

“Jesus’ reply to his temptation may properly be regarded a motto for all who face what they choose to call the temptation of necessity. ‘Man does not live by bread alone.’ There are other considerations of higher value than bread. Just the satisfaction of knowing that one has maintained one’s principles, at the cost of bodily hunger and inconvenience, is worth more than the satisfaction of serving one’s appetite.”

[I’ll tell you his concluding thoughts in my next post.]

Into the Wilderness

by Ronald R Johnson

A page from the sermon “The Wilderness,” preached by Lloyd C Douglas at the First Congregational Church of Ann Arbor on 2/15/1920. In Sermons [5], Box 3, Lloyd C. Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan. © University of Michigan.

Lloyd Douglas is about to tell the story of Christ’s temptations in the wilderness. This is from a sermon entitled, “The Wilderness,” preached by Lloyd C. Douglas at the First Congregational Church of Ann Arbor on February 15, 1920. (In Sermons [5], Box 3, Lloyd C. Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan. © University of Michigan.)

“One does not rightly understand the setting of this scene,” he says, “unless one is acquainted with another figure in the sacred drama: one John the Baptist. Owing to the fact that this rugged character is cut down in young manhood, paying with his life the costly price of speaking his mind candidly in the court of Herod Antipas, we see so little of him that he is likely to escape observation. Nobody can hope to become fully conversant with the mission of Jesus, however, unless he acquaints himself with this young hermit who plays a part so significant in the life of the Galilean.

“From his youth, John believed that the religion of his fathers faced a crisis and demanded a reform. He never thought of himself as a revolutionist or reformer. He was the forerunner of a reformer. His priestly father, Zacherias, had consecrated him in childhood to the Nazarite order, one of the most severely austere monastic sects ever established; and, in pursuance of that vow, the young Judean had left home at a tender age, to live the life of a recluse.

“Twenty miles east of Jerusalem, flanking the Dead Sea, there was and is an arid waste, in area about half the size of Washtenaw County [the county in which Douglas and his listeners are gathered], where such scraggy vegetation as survived the rigors of the climate only added to the unattractiveness of the sun-drenched, windswept waste of jagged rocks. There, John the Baptist spent most of his life, wandering up and down the parched ravines, shouting, ‘Prepare ye the way of the Lord’ — which any modern businessman would say was poor advertising, inasmuch as nobody ever went into the Jeshimon Wilderness except an occasional caravan en route from Engedi to Joppa.

“Be that as it may, the time came when thousands made the pilgrimage into the wilderness to hear the hermit preach, and vast numbers, infected by his contagious enthusiasm for a revival of the real spiritual interests of the Hebrew monotheism, believed his words and were baptized with water — a brand-new ceremony by which John welcomed his disciples into the rejuvenated kingdom of the heart. At length, as his influence increased and the crowds grew larger, he was persuaded to move northward, out of the dreary, bleak Jeshimon Wilderness into the more pleasant and accessible meadows along the Jordan River, where he continued his preaching and baptizing until one day a stranger appeared, a young man of quiet dignity and great personal charm, and when John saw him, he exclaimed:

“‘This is He!’

“Jesus was baptized that day in the presence of a mystified throng of thousands. They surveyed him with rapt interest; for John had said, ‘This is He of whom I spoke, the latchet of whose shoes I am not worthy to unloose. Behold your prophet, priest, and king!’

“One expects Jesus to make an inaugural address. The time was ripe for it, and the audience was at hand. One expects him to go at once to the Holy City, the glint of whose towers and turrets shone resplendent in the afternoon sun.

“He does neither of these things. Without a word, he emerges from the river and strides rapidly southward toward the Jeshimon Wilderness. He wished to be alone. The great moment had arrived for the inception of his ministry. But he wanted to get away by himself to examine his credentials and take stock of his spiritual resources before beginning his work.

“Thus was Jesus led up of the Spirit into the wilderness for forty days, a period of self-search which we celebrate in the Lenten season, just now at hand.”

[All of this was merely an introduction to Douglas’s sermon. I’ll tell you about that in my next post.]

The Mystery of Christ’s Silent Years

by Ronald R Johnson

The title page from the sermon “The Wilderness,” preached by Lloyd C Douglas at the First Congregational Church of Ann Arbor on 2/15/1920. In Sermons [5], Box 3, Lloyd C. Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan. © University of Michigan.

“Early in the experience of every person who hopes to live a purposeful life,” says Lloyd Douglas, “there comes a consciousness of an ideal. For almost nobody is too absurdly self-sufficient [not] to understand [with Longfellow] that the ‘Lives of great men all remind us/We can make our lives sublime.’ Whether or not ‘We leave behind us/Footprints on the sands of time,’ is, indeed, quite another matter, depending on a variety of circumstances.”

It is Sunday morning, February 15, 1920, and Douglas is preaching to his congregation of students, professors, and administrators from the University of Michigan, as well as townspeople, at the First Congregational Church of Ann Arbor. (This is filed under Sermons [5], Box 3, Lloyd C. Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan. © University of Michigan.)

Douglas holds up Christ as the supreme example to follow. In previous weeks he has been talking about how to develop (or, in his words, “discover” and “express”) one’s personality. Today he turns his focus on the Person whom he considers the Ultimate Personality.

“Jesus of Nazareth was but thirty-three years of age when he closed his eventful career, perhaps only thirty-one, and eighteen years of that short life are wrapped in mysterious silence. Of Jesus’ infancy and early childhood there is abundant record, replete with incident and rich in colorful detail.

“Clear-cut as a cameo [a raised sculpture cut out of a gem, in bold relief], the circumstances of his birth stand out in such high relief that all the world feels acquainted with the Babe of Bethlehem. It is as if we might take him in our arms. Every legend of the Nativity is precious. We see Joseph, the Nazarene carpenter, standing sentinel over the Child of promise, and Mary’s transfigured face as, in ecstasy of love, she clasps her little Son to her breast. We watch the shepherds leave their flocks and the sages journey from afar to pay homage at the manger-shrine. We attend the presentation in the temple and are thrilled at the escape from the murderous jealousy of the governor.

“We see him at the age of twelve, in company with his parents, attending the annual Passover feast in Jerusalem where, having contrived to gain admission to the Hall [of Hewn Stones], the lad converses with the doctors of the law on high themes, surprising and bewildering them all with his queries.

“Thus far, it is as if this sublime epic were rendered by a choir in full view, every syllable of the anthem clearly audible. But at this point there is a decided ritard. The choir recedes into its cloister and shuts the door. We hear, now, only the melody of the song as it trails off into a dreamy diminuendo, wordless and indistinct, until presently it is quite beyond the reach of our tensed ears.

“And it is as if a screened picture, presented with brisk action and bright vividness, had begun to lose its sharpness of detail, gradually drawn out of focus, until only one dim figure seems to be moving about: the figure of a growing youth who, as he increased in stature, increased also in favor with God and man. And the picture is too blurred any longer to be seen clearly, and for eighteen years we completely lose sight of him.

“Imagination comes to our aid…”

[Yes; imagination always came to Lloyd Douglas’s aid…]

“…and in fancy we see this stalwart youth embracing every opportunity to acquaint himself with the life of his fellow men. Caravans passed through the little town of Nazareth, and he talked with the travelers about the great world beyond the hills. He learned the duty and dignity of common labor in the little carpenter shop of Joseph. He attended the rabbinical school and became versed in the holy lore of his nation. He endeared himself to the villagers as a great-hearted, magnanimous youth, slow to believe evil, quick to forgive, pure as the snow, sensitive as a flower, in all things fair and above reproach.

“While he waited — waited for the day to come when he might enter upon the unique ministry, the responsibility of which had deepened within his heart as the years passed by. It is now as if the door of the sacristy had opened again. The choir comes forth, in renewal of the epic song. Jesus, the Galilean teacher, is about to enter upon his great commission.”

This is Douglas’s way of introducing the story of Jesus’ temptations in the wilderness. I’ll tell you more about that in my next post.

Personality III: Sliding

by Ronald R Johnson

A page from the sermon “Personality (Third Phase),” preached by Lloyd C Douglas at the First Congregational Church of Ann Arbor on 2/1/1920. In Sermons [5], Box 3, Lloyd C. Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan. © University of Michigan.

This is an excerpt from the sermon, “Personality (Third Phase),” preached by Lloyd C. Douglas at the First Congregational Church of Ann Arbor on February 1, 1920. (In Sermons [5], Box 3, Lloyd C. Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan. © University of Michigan.)

“There is also that tendency in middle life to slide. After the senses have become jaded, after the bloom has been rubbed off the ideals and anticipation holds out fewer dazzling fingers, then comes the menace of what an old-time bard called ‘the destruction that wasteth at noonday.’

“There was Saul. I would not weary you with a long story. Just a few broad charcoal strokes will suffice; a mere silhouette of him.

“His nation wanted a king. Saul was a brawny youth, handsome as any Terrean ever was. Head and shoulders over any other young man of his generation. And when the old judge, who had it all to say who should be appointed king, spied this super-youth, he called his long quest ended, invited him to an interview, told him to go home and wind up his affairs, and prepare to wear his nation’s crown.

“And Saul was completely overpowered by the high distinction that had come upon him, right out of the blue. He was afraid he wasn’t quite up to the part. Indeed, he hid himself among the freight of the caravan, half-inclined to ‘beat it,’ as we say, and evade the terrific responsibility. But persuaded at length that it was his duty to obey the call to kingship, he acceded to the throne, robed himself in the vestiture of royalty, and looked — and for a time acted — every inch a king.

“The years passed. Saul concentrated more and more upon the interests of his court as against the larger interests of his kingdom. More and more he took on the role of an autocrat, aristocrat — less and less the attitude of service to his nation. Little by little he came to regard with jealous hatred every strong personality in his court. Even the shepherd lad, brought in to play for him upon the harp, excited Saul’s envy until he was filled with murderous rage. Until, bye and bye, it was said of him, in curious words which are spoken in a tone of bleak finality, his spirit left him. And then the chronicler observes, ‘But Saul wist not that his soul had departed from him.’

“It was gone, but Saul didn’t know it. He didn’t miss it. He still had his crown; his scepter; his ermine — or whatever was the equivalent of ermine in Saul’s regal establishment; but his soul was gone.

“Where? How? When? Nobody could say.

“He had just aped the tawdry pomp of his heathen contemporaries a little too long. He had just allowed his own interests to outweigh his vested responsibilities a little too far. He had allowed his soul to come out of him gradually, until there was nothing left of it — even if he wist not that it had departed from him.

“If you have never read this majestic poem which recites the details of Saul’s tragedy and the Nemesis that overtook him, do not much longer deny yourself that experience. I do not mean to narrate any more of it. Just to stamp this one sentence down hard upon your consciousness: ‘And Saul wist not that his soul had departed from him.’

“How many a man who, as a youth, was visited by splendid dreams of a future made bright by loyal friendships, worthy achievements, and the reasonable rewards of fair deeds, has drifted and drifted on toward the twilight of age — morose, dissatisfied; both hands full of gold, perhaps; barns filled with corn, perhaps; ready to eat, drink, and be merry — and when his soul is required, he finds that he hasn’t a soul. It has departed, though he may not have observed its flight.

“And since we have been standing for a moment before an old-world portrait, let us tarry in this closing moment before another. The great emancipator of this same nation has been up on a hillcrest to commune with God concerning his responsiblity as a leader. The whole nation has been waiting in the valley for his return. And when he came down and rejoined them, it was said of him that his face was illumined. And the historian adds, ‘And Moses wist not that his face shone.’

“He was reflecting the glory that was his by virtue of his spiritual contact with his Father, but he didn’t know that his face shone. If he had known it and had thought about it and had prided himself on this distinction, perhaps the strange light would have departed from his eyes. But he was unaware of it, simply because he was too much wrapped up in the love he bore his people, and his sense of high obligation to serve them.

“I think we shall find it true that most men and women who are able to exercise great power over their fellows wist not that their faces are illumined. And just because they do not know it — being too much engrossed with the duties thrust upon them to love, to serve, to lift, to heal, to redeem — their faces shine.”

Personality III: Cynicism

by Ronald R Johnson

A page from the sermon “Personality (Third Phase),” preached by Lloyd C Douglas at the First Congregational Church of Ann Arbor on 2/1/1920. In Sermons [5], Box 3, Lloyd C. Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan. © University of Michigan.

The following is an excerpt from the sermon, “Personality (Third Phase),” preached by Lloyd C. Douglas at the First Congregational Church of Ann Arbor on February 1, 1920. (In Sermons [5], Box 3, Lloyd C. Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan. © University of Michigan.):

“I turn now to the final phase of our subject with much reluctance. Until now we have been talking of the most pleasant possibilities of the theme. Now we must briefly take stock of those conditions by which personality becomes impaired, if not altogether lost.

“What are these conditions?

“Perhaps we had better concentrate upon the most common cause of this tragedy: the withering blight of unwholesome influences during the plastic period of adolescence.

“I am glad that I do not know exactly how many keen-eyed, splendid youths have come to this place of high privilege where we live [the University of Michigan]… resolved to make the very most of their lives, who have failed either to realize their own bright dreams or to justify the investment made in them — all because they early fell easy victims to influences which they had neither the will, wit, nor wisdom to combat. And these influences were human influences, generated by persons whose outlook upon life was wholly opportunistic, selfish, sordid, petty, reprehensible.

“In this dull, gray atmosphere of doubt, distrust, and excessive sophistication which hovers over so many quarters where students congregate, our ambitious youth struggles for a little time to hold on to a group of ideals which seem less and less worth holding, every day, until he himself turns scoffer — and then he is done. He goes out, at length, to make his way, but it is a lonesome way, and his friendships must ever be sought among his own kind — the kind that feels as he feels about life. They are in the world for what they can get, like birds of prey. They will as promptly and effectively invade his rights as any, and he knows it. He mentally puts up his guard to defend himself against a whole race for which he bears no love — a race that will do him hurt unless he practices eternal vigilance.

“I have seen them come to college through these many years past, full of eager enthusiasm, ingenuous, lovable, arms outstretched to the world, ready to greet it with open palms. I have seen many of them go, furtive, suspicious, eyes heavy-lidded with the growing weight of distrust, incipient lines of cynicism penciling the corners of the mouth — so plainly that he who runs may read their message.” [This is a reference to Habakkuk 2:2.]

“Coming in with open palms; going out with clenched fists, to meet and overcome the world. And meanwhile the personality has escaped. Nobody can say exactly where it has gone or precisely when it took its leave — but it is gone.

“The man himself may hardly be aware of his loss, but his personality is gone. Whether he may find it possible, in later life, to retrieve it is a question I should not like to try to answer, because I do not know. All I know about it is that there isn’t room enough inside any human skin for a cultivated cynicism and a forceful personality — and cynicism is a thoroughly disintegrating mental obsession. Once it takes full possession and begins to color one’s thoughts about life, I fear the results are almost invariably dismal in the extreme.”

Personality III: Other People

by Ronald R Johnson

A page from the sermon “Personality (Third Phase),” preached by Lloyd C Douglas at the First Congregational Church of Ann Arbor on 2/1/1920. In Sermons [5], Box 3, Lloyd C. Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan. © University of Michigan.

This is from the sermon, “Personality (Third Phase),” preached by Lloyd C. Douglas at the First Congregational Church of Ann Arbor on February 1, 1920. (In Sermons [5], Box 3, Lloyd C. Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan. © University of Michigan.):

“Now, as sons of God, we automatically constitute a human brotherhood. I do not intend to review that argument, already treated at some length, except to remind you that we found it to be true that no man can properly express his personality until he recognizes this principle as an immutable law of his life. Until he has built this principle into his thinking, he is an Ishmaelite among strangers. His hand is against every man’s hand. His personal interests are always taking priority over every other man’s interests.

“In this connection, I stated that there are no practiced tricks of manner or gesture or posture or appeal or approach to a stranger that will correctly imitate the attitude of a man who, without artifice but in deep sincerity, follows the inclination of his own heart and greets all men as his brothers.

“I was greatly impressed to notice, in yesterday’s Literary Digest, the following, under the department given to ‘Business Efficiency.’ A well known banker was quoted as saying:

“‘When I entered the banking business a good many years ago, I had a number of copy-book ideas about how I should meet people. Always give a firm, strong grip in shaking hands, look the other man in the eye when you talk to him, let him know that you are glad to see him, etc. These were some of my ideas. They didn’t last long, though. Old Mr. Block, president of the institution, called me over to his desk one day in his abrupt manner. ‘Young man,’ he said, ‘you are a promising chap in this bank…. [But] I don’t like the way you meet people. And I don’t think they like it, either. You act as though you were doing it by rule. Act naturally. Don’t be affected. If you are sincerely interested in the other fellow, he’ll know it even if you growl. Take that for what it’s worth.’ So [continues this banker] I believe that ‘man-to-man’ sincerity is the best method of dealing with all persons. This is all there is to it. It’s so simple, it’s hard to believe.”

Douglas continues:

“Now, my reason for quoting this man’s opinion is twofold. I’m glad to hear him say that success in human relations is all based upon sincerity. But it is even more to the point to hear him saying that it is so simple it is almost unbelievable. This is the principle that the Master-man was always insisting upon.

“Religion was everywhere encrusted with old crystallized rites and ceremonies which had quite lost their meaning for all but a very few people. Some said that the temple was God’s headquarters and that there He must be found, if at all. Others were equally sure that He was to be discovered in the sacred groves.

“But, said Jesus, God is a Spirit. And the direct course to Him was a simple recognition of His Fatherhood, our sonship, and the sure consciousness of this indissoluble bond. Indeed, the Nazarene came to believe that only in the ingenuous attitude of childhood could this fact be properly comprehended. ‘Except ye become as little children,’ said He, ‘ye shall not enter into His spiritual kingdom.’

“Equally simple were human relationships. The other man is my brother. If he wrongs me, he is still my brother. If he asks forgiveness, I must forgive him. If not, he is still my brother. When I hate him, I cannot love God, who is his Father as well as mine. Said the Galilean Teacher, if I damn my brother in unmeasured terms, I have done both him and myself and our common Father a grave injustice for which I deserve to be brought to book. But it is much worse that I should call my brother a fool, which reflects upon the dignity of his life and the value of his personality.

“If I would discipline myself to a proper understanding of all men, I must place myself in such a simple-hearted attitude toward them that if I am asked to walk a mile, I shall express willingness to walk two miles. If I am asked for my coat, I shall be willing to part also with my jacket. I may not have to do that in actual practice, but that must be my attitude. And when I have schooled my mind to look upon all men in this way, my own personality has its chance to find expression.

Personality III: Getting Past the Fear of God

by Ronald R Johnson

A page from the sermon “Personality (Third Phase),” preached by Lloyd C Douglas at the First Congregational Church of Ann Arbor on 2/1/1920. In Sermons [5], Box 3, Lloyd C. Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan. © University of Michigan.

This excerpt is from the sermon, “Personality (Third Phase),” preached by Lloyd C. Douglas at the First Congregational Church of Ann Arbor on February 1, 1920. (In Sermons [5], Box 3, Lloyd C. Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan. © University of Michigan.):

“…we are rapidly tending toward a much more satisfactory and reasonable attitude toward God. Men began their thinking of Him by contemplating Him in fear. He was always angry, and they were always afraid. They, then, emphasized their awe of Him and gave themselves over to the invention of poor little superlatives concerning His greatness, thinking that He might be flattered by their praise into favoring them. Their only process of making Him great was to debase themselves, on the ground that the smaller they were, the greater He became.

“Then they began speaking of their love for Him; but it was rather difficult to associate the love-idea with the old fear-concept. Even today, when we fancy ourselves quite freed from most of the crude old terrors once indigenous to theological considerations, we still speak of Him with much reserve, and in hushed voices, usually adopting a tone employed solely for this purpose. And many an admonitory ‘Tut, tut!’ is directed toward small children by their parents when, out of their simple-hearted acceptance of the parental instructions that God is indeed their Father, they venture to play with Him a bit, or invite His interest in their small concerns.

“No, we think, that will not do. God is far too great to be spoken of in the same terms with our work or our play, or to be merry with us, though we do not find it at all incongruous to solicit His attendance upon our dismay, or a witness to our tears. We seem to have a notion that there is something inevitably sad about God.

“Of course, our better judgment tells us, when we stop to think about this matter calmly, that God is apparently much interested in the things we consider small, judging by the growing importance of the infinitesimally little things which only lately have come into being for us by the aid of the high-powered microscopes. And of course He must be interested in the forces and facts of life which make us merry and happy, else He would not have endowed us with the capacity for appreciating them and turning them to account.

“But it is hard to overcome race-memory of a God-concept — age-old — based on fear.

“Now, if this God-consciousness is ever to aid us in the discovery of ‘personality,’ we must leave off the old groveling relationship and stand erect, head up, confident and unafraid, when we contemplate Him; thus

[Douglas indents the following and puts it in quotes:]

“‘If He thought my life valuable enough to endow me with divine aspirations and longings that I cannot myself understand, the best that I can do by way of showing my appreciation is to act up to the part, and be His son, insofar as my capacities and my faith permit.’

“I do not flatter the artist by telling him that his best picture is a hopeless daub. Nor do I honor God by protesting that I, one of His human creatures, am a worthless worm of the dust. It is only as I glory in my heritage and express devout thanks for the supernal, that I find [Him] within me, that I realize what His Fatherhood means to the discovery of my own personality.”

Now, we can argue that Douglas didn’t fully appreciate the complexities of the idea of “fearing” God — and I don’t think he did fully appreciate them — but we mustn’t let that prevent us from grasping the very important point he is trying to make: that the idea of “fearing” God was never meant to prevent us from having a closer relationship with Him. That’s what Douglas is trying to convey. I’ll tell you more about his sermon in my next post.

Personality III: Making Sense of the Human Soul

by Ronald R Johnson

The title page from the sermon “Personality (Third Phase),” preached by Lloyd C Douglas at the First Congregational Church of Ann Arbor on 2/1/1920. In Sermons [5], Box 3, Lloyd C. Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan. © University of Michigan.

The following excerpt is from the sermon, “Personality (Third Phase),” preached by Lloyd C. Douglas at the First Congregational Church of Ann Arbor on February 1, 1920. (In Sermons [5], Box 3, Lloyd C. Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan. © University of Michigan.):

“In coming to what I shall call, purely for accommodation’s sake, the ‘Third Phase’ of this theme which we have been discussing lately, I am conscious that we have only scratched the surface of it. And probably the largest contribution I shall have made to this subject is to have proved, by the feebleness and sketchiness of my treatment of it, how tremendously large and important the matter really is. But if I shall have done little more than excite fresh interest in this vital fact which bears so significantly upon all the practical problems of human experience, the time we have given to it will have been well spent.

“Very briefly, we have adduced the following facts concerning ‘Personality.’

“However he may have come by it, every normal man is possessed of a distinct personality unlike any other. It is his by right of birth. It makes no difference when or where he is born, or of whom — he is unique in that there is but one of his kind, and he is that one.

“When, therefore, he speaks of his ambition to develop his personality, he means that he desires to discover his personality. In no sense is his personality to be likened to a machine which may be assembled or remodeled in the interest of increased efficiency or impaired to the point of uselessness by faulty manipulation. But it is rather to be considered as an organism which grows exactly as a seed grows into a plant, with possibilities for flowering and bearing fruit — but only one particular kind of flower, and one distinctive manner of fruit. Or, lacking suitable care and proper nourishment, eventually going the way of all starved and neglected organisms.

“Again, we noted some of the interesting facts relative to this uniqueness of the individual soul: its infinite longings, its unaccountable aspirations, and its grave concern about its destiny, all pointing to an origin quite above nature and to an inner urge inexplicable on natural grounds.

“It is not at all difficult for biology to explain the human brain as the inevitable product of the increasing demands which the evolving man-type has put upon the nervous system, culminating in a highly complicated nerve-ganglion housed in the skull. It is no less difficult to explain the heart as the natural product of a system of circulation requiring just such a power plant as this cardiac marvel.

“Moreover, when biology sits down beside sociology to discuss the development of human relationships on natural grounds, it is able to make some very plausible deductions about the achievement of such instincts as parental solicitude — maternal sacrifice, paternal courage, etc. — as merely demonstrating the law of race preservation (a principle also attested by certain beasts of the field and birds of the air). Biology may go further and endeavor to show that all chivalry, and the most beautiful and idealistic examples of romance, which bear fruit not only in classic story, art, and masterpiece of music but [also] in the everyday experience of mortals, are proofs only of such sex-attraction as is inexorably demanded by nature, seeking to insure the perpetuity of the human race.

“But, after all these theories have been spun out, ad infinitum, and checked up scientifically and agreed to by everybody, there still remains quite a sizable area of human character and conduct which refuses to be explained on any naturalistic hypothesis.

“How, for instance, certain social groups, at tremendous cost to themselves in privation, loneliness, and loss of everything humanly desirable, including the infraction of the age-old law of self-preservation, have suffered for an ideal whose realization involved no terrestrial rewards and promised no material gains whatsoever. How the very greatest of human leaders were men who not only forgot self, utterly, in pursuit of their ideal but thereby won universal approbation and immortality in the regard of their posterity, proving that humanity in the mass, however much it may lack the capacity for breaking little laws of nature, in order that it may obey the larger laws of the spirit nevertheless recognizes real greatness to be greatness of mind and soul.

“The only possible explanation of this curious fact resides in the ancient belief of men that the human soul contains a spark of the Divine Life. And since the soul is not a machine but an organism, it serves our thinking to speak of the Almighty God as our Father and of ourselves as the spiritual reproductions of his Master-mind. Now, this fact dignifies human life and exalts human personality.

“In this connection, it ought to be said that we are rapidly tending toward a much more satisfactory and reasonable attitude toward God…”

[More about that in my next post.]

Personality II: Reserve Power

by Ronald R Johnson

A page from the sermon “Personality (Second Phase),” preached by Lloyd C Douglas at the First Congregational Church of Ann Arbor on 1/25/1920. In Sermons [5], Box 3, Lloyd C. Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan. © University of Michigan.

It is Sunday, January 25, 1920, and Lloyd Douglas is still preaching his series on “Personality” at the First Congregational Church of Ann Arbor. (This is from Sermons [5], Box 3, Lloyd C. Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan. © University of Michigan.) Douglas says:

“Another desirable grace is Reserve.

“Having sold yourself to yourself and having gone out to market yourself, the very best advertising you can have is satisfied customers.

“There is a type of personality that is good for a short haul but will not stand up under an endurance test. He makes a dreadful mistake who, in an effort to impress his personality on other people, rushes at them with much palaver and a great noise. He gives the impression of having all his stock in the front window. It may be entirely untrue. He may have a great deal in reserve; only he doesn’t act like it.

“People of strong personality always give one the impression of having a tremendous amount of power that is stored against a correspondingly great demand.

“The bubbler, who is always in a state of effervescence, may have a great deal of energy laid back for a rainy day, but it isn’t sure that he has to the casual observer. At all events, don’t feel that this kind of human kinetics that is forever pip-pipping at the safety-valve is to be imitated.

“Of course, if you are a natural bubbler and can’t help it, bubble on. We don’t worry much about your future. You’ll get along, and the world will be a whole lot better off for your having been in it.

“But, all things considered, if somehow you can give out the impression that you have a little spiritual energy in repose — secreted somewhere about you — it helps greatly to make other people think that your personality is strong. And a very good way to make people think that you have it is to have it. In fact, not many people will think that you have it unless you do have it.

“We all need to cultivate Enthusiasm. But that virtue has been sufficiently extolled in our time and needs no advocate.

“Advice can be had, in plenty, to spread your canvas to the breeze; but do not forget also to carry a little ballast. It makes a longer voyage, and a safer one. Don’t talk more than you think, if you would develop some reserve power. Don’t, for the sake of seeming animated and enthusiastic, become a mere chatterbox. Don’t let it be suspected, as you talk, that your voice is in advance of your thoughts, or that, somehow, your mouth and your mind had become disengaged. Keep something back.

“Before you offer your opinions, take them out and look them over carefully. A little practice of this kind makes for that reserve power we were talking about. Mostly we refer to it as poise.

“I am sure it could be shown that they have most in reserve, and are best poised spiritually, who have deliberately planned to give some time, when it could be snatched from other duties, for reflection upon very serious considerations.

“Like ‘Destiny.’ Whence — whither — why?

“The problems of our beginnings and our ends; our future, our ambitions, and our goal; our strivings, our longings, and our consecrations — think of them in whatsoever terms you will, they are, in their last analysis, considerations which throw us back upon God.”

[Then he quotes excerpts from the poem, “Each In His Own Tongue,” by William Herbert Carruth. It’s not clear to me why he chose to recite parts of this poem, but it does address the big questions of life and includes the line, “Some call it Evolution/And others call it God.”] He continues:

“It will give you personal power to have, in reserve, some deductions of your own which have led you irresistibly into the presence of Him who is your Father.

“This is no idle fancy but an attested fact, that ‘they who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.”

Personality II: Graces of Character

by Ronald R Johnson

A page from the sermon “Personality (Second Phase),” preached by Lloyd C Douglas at the First Congregational Church of Ann Arbor on 1/25/1920. In Sermons [5], Box 3, Lloyd C. Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan. © University of Michigan.

It is Sunday, January 25, 1920, and Lloyd Douglas is still preaching his series on “Personality” at the First Congregational Church of Ann Arbor. (This is from Sermons [5], Box 3, Lloyd C. Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan. © University of Michigan.) Douglas says:

“Now, there are a few graces of character which are possible to some degree in every life and worthy of mention in a discussion of this topic. Not for anything would I suggest that you attempt imitation of such graces as exhibited in others, for that would be a flat denial of our course of procedure. But it is well to keep in mind what these graces are, and then to try to express your own thought of them, in your own particular way.

“The first is Optimism.

“We have been fairly well fed up on that principle of late; and perhaps my mention of it is only carrying coals to Newcastle. It has not been long since we were so depressed of spirit that we took the smile cure as a remedy for our dismal mood. Everywhere we went, somebody was coaxing us to ‘pack up our troubles in our old kit-bag and smile.’ The effect of it was very good. Some people were induced to smile who had almost lost the knack. The thing became epidemic, and has, by no means, lost its influence upon our thinking. All things considered, a smile will carry you farther than a frown wherever you go, and with whomsoever you have dealings.

“Just now, however, I am thinking about an inner, permanent optimism that is deep-rooted in a fixed philosophy of life.

“There must be a very definite plan in the mind of the Creator, for the development of mankind. Apparently we are moving, as a race, toward some goal which He thinks is for our good. Then we must be on the way up, for surely He would not plan for the disaster of His own creation. I think that statement will stand, without argument.

“If, then, we are on the way up, every man has within him that which, if rightly used, will contribute toward this achievement. It will do me no harm in the development of my personality to keep saying to myself, quite frequently, ‘We are on the way up!’

“Now, this belief, not unlike the doctrine concerning the brotherhood of man, is much easier to talk about than to accept as a practical fact. There are a great many people in the world whose general conduct fails to reveal even a scintilla of interest in the altus [Latin for ‘high’], to say nothing of the altior [higher]. But we must ascribe this to faulty training, unfortunate environment, and peculiar combinations of ruinous circumstances.

“Some men seem to love darkness rather than light, but it is because they have had so little light that they do not understand its value. We must cultivate something of the sympathy of Him ‘who, looking upon the multitude, was moved with compassion, for he saw them as sheep without a shepherd.’ Whatever depressing sights we see — of human need and organized iniquity — it is our business to understand that, as a race, we are on the way up.

“Part of my life-task is to demonstrate my belief in this theory, in such manner as to call out an expression of it in the lives of others. They want to think so, too. Some of them have met discouragements that were entirely too much for them. But, by instinct, they still want to believe that, in spite of conditions, life is tending upward.

“If this faith is strong enough in your heart, it will show up in the tone of your voice, in the light of your eye, in every word you speak and every act you perform. People will like you. They will think of you with warm appreciation. For you are helping them to hold on to an idea which they desire to have.

“Mostly it works out this way:

“Your belief that we, as a race, are en route to higher attainments gives you faith in the natural willingness of humanity to become party to this upward course. I think it makes a great deal of difference in the development of personality, whether one assumes that humanity would prefer to go up or down.

“Once you assume that every normal man has that within him which makes him desire to rise, your contacts with him inspire him to take a step upward. He likes you for that. You needn’t preach to him about the importance of his being his very best. Not at all. If you have this idea imbedded in your personality, he will see it reflected in your manner. He likes you, because you help him to find himself. You impute your ideals to him which he very greatly desires to have.

“This mental habit of yours makes you on the alert to discern the peculiar points of merit in another man, and you address yourself to the man he might be if he gave these peculiar points of merit a chance to develop. You pick them out and hold them up before his eyes so he can see them. He likes you for that. He is a bigger man, everyway considered, when he is in your presence. Your personality hasn’t overshadowed his or put him at a disadvantage. That would make him hate or fear you. But you have a trick of calling out the very finest attributes he possesses. You can’t do that unless you are on the alert to discover, in every man, the forces which will contribute toward their upward trend.

“If you wish to test this out in your own experience, just mentally call the roll of the people you know whom you think of as having powerful and pleasing personalities and you will find that, in every case, they are persons in whose presence you are at your very best and from whose presence you go with a light step and a sense of self-value. This is easily explained on the ground that such persons are able to recognize, at a glance, your distinctive points of merit and address themselves to your highest potentiality.

“And if you would have this priceless grace of character in your life so that you may address yourself to the potential best in other people, you may have it at the cost of patiently building into your subconsciousness the belief that there is, in all men, that which, if properly utilized, will bring us, as a race, up to the higher ground.

“Plenty of people are to be found who are ready and willing to ‘weep with them that weep,’ who have neglected to learn how to ‘rejoice with them that do rejoice.’ Blessed are they who find time to mingle their tears with the seriously afflicted. The world is very heavily in their debt. But it is a great art to discover in other people what things are promoting their happiness, and share their pleasure with them.

“A very young friend of mine said to me the other day, ‘See my new shoes!’ And I felicitated her upon the shoes, as she knew I would. And she was pleased — with the shoes. I doubt not she considered me rather stupid not to have noticed the shoes without having my attention called to them. If I had been quite on the alert, I should have remarked about the shoes before being invited so to do. That would have been a red-letter day for me in her estimation.

“Now, men and women are, in more ways than this, just grownup children, eager to have recognition of their attainments and merits. The person who is quick to observe all the good and gracious and joy-producing facts in the life of his friend — well, he never needs worry much about how to express his personality. And, as to success, he can have about anything he desires.”

Douglas went into this a little more deeply, and I’ll tell you about that in my next post.

Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started