The world is full of human religion, and judged of from the New Testament, great multitudes who profess to be Christians seem to have been only galvanized by human ecclesiastical methods into a sort of mechanical  Christianity, with whom the first principles of a divine life seems utterly unknown. The more intimately we become acquainted with God, the more delicately and sharply we can distinguish the shades of human character and the lines of truth and error. There are moments of great spiritual vision in which we seem to look out from our heavenly Father’s bosom, and through the luminous atmosphere of his presence upon the peoples and nations of the earth, and upon the different shades of nominal Christianity, like great outspread plains stretching far off in the gloom, with here and there a hill top, made a little brighter by its elevation in the glimmering star-light, and our minds are stretched with great questions as to the destiny of these surging millions, and our hearts ache with inexpressible pity and longing to rescue all we can; and in our utter helplessness the tears will flow and the prayers ascend that the precious right hand that was pierced with the nail would be stretched out to save as many as possible. And amid this pitiful condition of things it is more pitiable still to see the myriads of professed Christians, headed by throngs of elegant, cultured, ease-loving, self-seeking preachers, who are only playing at religion. In the light of eternity the great bulk of the visible church are like little children who play that they are gladiators, with rolls of paper for swords, and little kittens for lions. And the worst of it is, so many who seem to be real sincere Christians are blinded and misled by this human religion, and seem to think that out-and-out holiness, and a life of real self-sacrifice, is carrying religion a little too far.

Human religion has a great many marks about it. It depends on human means, and resorts to the tactics of the creature, to the skill, the planning, the wire-pulling, not to say the downright trickery of unregenerate human nature. It is managed by committees, and majorities, and votes, and resolutions, and influential persons, and man-made legislation. This human religion is born of ecclesiastical assemblies, ecumenical conferences, and parliaments of the world’s religions. It must live op big things, big churches, great preachers, fine music, esthetic culture, college diplomas, stained glass, dignity, churchly starch, ministerial pomposity, high-sounding titles. It preaches human progress, the glory of man, the inventions of the age; the telegraph, the steamship, the diving-bell, the phonograph, submarine cables, vestibule trains, oil-wells, mines, the meteorology of shooting stars, the weather report, the anatomy of a fly’s wing, the X-ray, the splendor of poetry, the brilliance of college training. These are the things that fill the mind of human religion, and are forever dropping in silvery accents from its voluble tongue. It goes in for show and noise, and making startling effects, whether it be a funeral, or a picnic, or a wedding, or a brass band revival, or a sacramental service, or a baptismal performance, or a church dedication, or corner stone laying (in which it calls to its aid the abominations of secret lodges), or in the gathering of its legislative bodies, or in the publishing of its church literature, or in striking attitudes in the pulpit; whatever it does, it must swell and show off, because unlike God’s appointed feasts, it lives on leavened bread, and is full of yeast, and therefore it must puff and swell and strut. This is the stuff that is palmed off on the world as the religion of the meek and lowly Jesus, who went about weeping and casting out devils, and transforming wretched lives.

Human religion must needs be hedged in by all sorts of human wicker-work, social coteries, circles of old friends, social sets, ecclesiastical rings. People who have human religion must needs be held together, like the staves of a barrel, by outside hoops and bandages. Such persons cannot stand alone with God. One single frosty morning of misfortune, or great distress, will wither its fair flowers, and thousands of such religionists combined into one could not endure for one hour the cyclone of desolation that swept around Job. This is why, when persons who have human religion, leave their social surroundings and their little sectarian church-circles, and are thrown on the rough waves of the world, they flounder and fling away their religion, because it was not centered in their hearts, but only put on. It was a house plant, and had to be nursed by prosperity, and human friendships, and narrow, earthly loves; and when these things are stripped from it, the roof is taken from off its head and it cannot live in the great universal outdoors of God’s kingdom.

A preacher of human religion must be flattered, and puffed in the papers, and voted for as a delegate to his sectarian church assemblages. He needs toasting, with invitations to big dinners, carriage drives in the park, summer vacations, winter trips to a warm clime. He must needs have presents and religious bon-bons, and if he were peeled down to old-fashioned primeval vicissitudes, to walk with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, with notable to hold him but faith in God, all his religion would likely evaporate. Church members who have human religion must receive many attentions from their pastors and other church members. They must be coaxed to attend prayer meeting, politely bowed to a half a square away, they must be visited for every headache, their whims must be consulted, they have sore toes that are easily tramped on, they either want to be excused from taking any part in religious service, or else want to be invited to take the lead. Is there anything so abominable as human religion? Its very prayers are stuffed full of humanism, and various forms of self. This human religion is always anxious about results. It knows nothing about living by faith. It is always in a fever about accomplishing great things. It frets over small congregations, or rainy Sundays, or difficulties that prevent its plans. It is anxious about good collections, and about having the sermon to take well, and the hymn to be nicely rendered, and the prayer meeting to pass off smoothly. It does not have a giant’s tread, but walks is if on eggs. It is over cautious, easily frightened, full of compromise, uses human policy as a substitute for divine love, just as the tower builders of Babel used mud-shine as a substitute for lime plaster.

When human religion gets up a revival, it must have from five to twenty churches of heterogeneous creeds and sectarian bodies go into a great union effort. It must have a mammoth choir, with great musical instruments, and many preachers, and multiplied committees, and each committee headed by some banker, or judge, or mayor, or millionaire’s wife. It signs cards as a substitute for the broken-hearted cries of Scriptural repentance. It must count its converts for a few days’ meetings by the hundreds. It must apologize for natural depravity, and plead for its existence in the soul till death, and by professing to top off a few big branches of sin it only feeds and fattens the monster of heart-corruption at the very center of the soul.

Human religion thinks it will conquer the world; it denies holiness, ignores the omnipotent, personal agency of the Holy Ghost, steers clear of all divine manifestations, is terrified at the supernatural in grace, discounts personal testimony, is afraid of weeping, is terrified at a hallelujah, thinks that the sobs of a penitent should be stifled with a lavender scented handkerchief.

Human religion curls its lip at holiness, caricatures divine healing, antagonizes the premillennial coming of Jesus, thinks the world is growing beautifully better, puts outward reformation for soul-salvation, runs off on lines of humanitarianism as a substitute for the indwelling Holy Spirit, is forever forming itself into fresh organizations of “leagues” and “endeavors” and “boys’ brigades.” It dreams of bringing the millennium by social reforms, it denies that Jesus will come and reign on the earth, but seeks to usurp his place and build for itself a kingdom over the world. It is an ease-loving, jovial, laughing, fun-making, fun-loving, superficial thing. Its motives are bounded by time. All its enterprises have an atmosphere of earthliness about them. It despises the day of small things, it scorns little, humble people, and lonely ways. It is eager to jump to the height of prosperity, it is domineering and popish in its assertions over the poor, and yet at the same time cringes like a puppy before the rich and the great ones. Its music has no pathos in it, its laughter lacks divine cheerfulness, its worship lacks supernatural love, its prayers bring down no huge answers, it works no miracles, calls forth no criticism from the world, it has no light of eternity in its eye. It is a poor, pale, sickly thing, born of the union of the heart of the world with the head of Christian theology—a mongrel, bastard thing, with a backslidden church for its mother and the world for its father.

This human religion will be everlastingly wrecked at the appearing of Jesus. Woe to that human being who has a human religion.