A Noted writer tells the tale of two maiden sisters in Edinburgh who fell out on some point of controversial theology, but fell out so bitterly that never another word passed between them from that day onward.
The pair inhabited a single room in which the doorway faced the kitchen grate. So bitter was the dispute that they even divided the room into two so that neither would trespass on the other's domain. It may have been lack of means or fear of scandal which prevented their separating, but this they did not do. The tragedy can well be imagined of these two sisters separated by perhaps some trivial point of dogma, each waiting for the other to admit that she was wrong. One wonders whether they ever read the Sermon on the Mount or the thirteenth chapter of First Corinthians.
In the early days of the Reformation theological doctrines tended toward harshness, but this is largely accounted for by the persecution which the early Protestants suffered. Even allowing for this, one may well wonder how such doctrines as that of predestination and future punishment ever came to be accepted. Fatalistic teachings are as old as the hills, but the trouble with some ardent theologians was that starting with a false premise they followed it out to its logical conclusion. They started off from the basis that God is all-knowing, infinite, and unchanging, but from this premise they enunciated the doctrine that God destines man to everlasting happiness or misery. This meant that even before a child was born it had already been decided whether it would go to heaven or be everlastingly tortured in the fires of hell. It did not matter what this innocent child might do— no matter what efforts or sacrifices might be made—God in His inscrutable wisdom had already made the decision and it could not therefore be altered. No wonder even John Calvin described it as that "horrible decree."
