The Anatomy of Deception - Lawrence Goldstone [41]
He had paused to allow this question to sit with the congregation. Then he intoned firmly, “No! Scripture is never irrelevant to moral questions, not if we employ it correctly. The word of God does not exist merely to allow us to browse until we discover a passage that we may extract to support a conclusion upon which we have already arrived. God’s word exists to inspire us to seek the truth within ourselves, to probe our Christian consciences in order to determine what is right. Human slavery, as every person in this room of God’s house knows, was not right. It is not then possible that Scripture could justify the enslavement of human beings.”
Reverend Powers concluded by instructing each of us to seek God’s truth, not just in Scripture, but in our daily lives. “God has embedded within each of us a power for good, knowledge of what is right and what is wrong. And it is only by allowing that which God has granted to flower, to be with us as we make our life decisions, that we may live as true Christians.”
I thanked Reverend Powers profusely as I left the church. He could not have known it but his sermon was of particular moment to me. The two aspects of my life that had the most meaning—the spiritual and scientific—were often seen to be in conflict in the modern world, and how the two could be reconciled had become an even greater controversy since the publication of Charles Darwin’s stunning work thirty years ago. (That the world owed the work to the decision by the Professor’s father to opt for Canada rather than the sea is one of history’s ironies.) I was as drawn to empiricism as to God but ever since I had become involved with the science of medicine, I had encountered a surprising degree of prejudice. A shocking number of otherwise intelligent people viewed the pursuit of natural science as an un-Godly act. The misguided Reverend Squires, who had founded the League Against Human Vivisection in his determination to prevent autopsy, was hardly the only example of blind rejection of knowledge in the name of spirituality. There were even some who claimed that disease should not be treated and suffering not relieved, since each represented an expression of God’s will, which should not be interfered with by Man.
Reverend Powers’ sermon, however, had put a fresh perspective on the problem. When one introduced conscience into the question, it became a simple matter to determine whether or not any human pursuit was consistent with God’s dictates. Certainly, one needed look no further than Dr. Osler to find a man of science who lived God’s grace by seeking goodness and truth within him.
When I arrived at Rittenhouse Square, one of the large oak double doors was opened by a tall, pale-skinned, funereal servant who evoked a formally dressed Cadaverous Charlie, the Dead House attendant. When I identified myself, he stood aside, allowing for me to enter.
No one else acknowledged my arrival, nor was I ushered into a sitting room to pass the time. Instead, the servant slid away, leaving me to wait, hat in hand, for Miss Benedict to descend the stairs. This she did five minutes after my arrival, bounding down like a young boy. The energy with which she obviously embraced life was intoxicating. Instead of a dress, she wore green trousers, a pale blue man’s shirt, and a small cap common to the working classes, a mode of attire only possible if one were wealthy enough to avoid identification to the rank one evoked. I might have been scandalized if not for the knowledge that it was I who was the rustic, and she the cosmopolite.
At the bottom of the stairs, she leaned toward me and kissed me on the cheek. It was in no way a match for the passion of her kiss in the garden, but when she touched me, I felt a dizzy surge from the memory of it.
“Do you have a carriage?” she asked.
I told her a brougham was waiting outside. I had thought of engaging a hansom, but could not chance appearing unaware of the proper etiquette.
“Why was I left alone in the