Error, indeed, is never set forth in its naked deformity, lest, being thus exposed, it should at once be detected. But it is craftily decked out in an attractive dress, so as, by its outward form, to make it appear to the inexperienced (ridiculous as the expression may seem) more true than the truth itself. - Irenaeus
A pretty maid, a Protestant, was to a Catholic wed To love all Bible truths and tales, quite early she’d been bred. It sorely grieved her husband’s heart that she would not comply, And join the Mother Church of Rome and heretics deny.
So day by day he flattered her, but still she saw no good Would ever come from bowing down to idols made of wood. The Mass, the host, the miracles, were made but to deceive; And transubstantiation, too, she’d never dare believe.
He went to see his clergyman and told him his sad tale. “My wife is an unbeliever, sir; you can perhaps prevail; For all your Romish miracles my wife has strong aversion, To really work a miracle may lead to her conversion.”
The priest went with the gentleman—he thought to gain a prize. He said, “I will convert her, sir, and open both her eyes.” So when they came into the house, the husband loudly cried, “The priest has come to dine with us!” “He’s welcome,” she replied.
And when, at last, the meal was o’er, the priest at once began, To teach his hostess all about the sinful state of man; The greatness of our Savior’s love, which Christians can’t deny. To give Himself a sacrifice and for our sins to die.
“I will return tomorrow, lass, prepare some bread and wine; The sacramental miracle will stop your soul’s decline.” “I’ll bake the bread,” the lady said. “You may,” he did reply, “And when you’ve seen this miracle, convinced you’ll be, say I.”
The priest did come accordingly, the bread and wine did bless. The lady asked, “Sir, is it changed?” The priest answered, “Yes. It’s changed from common bread and wine to truly flesh and blood; Begorra, lass, this power of mine has changed it into God!”
So having blessed the bread and wine, to eat they did prepare. The lady said unto the priest, “I warn you to take care, For half an ounce of arsenic was mixed right in the batter, But since you have its nature changed, it cannot really matter.”
The priest was struck real dumb—he looked as pale as death. The bread and wine fell from his hands and he did gasp for breath. “Bring me my horse!” the priest cried, “This is a cursed home!” The lady replied, “Begone; tis you who shares the curse of Rome”
The husband, too, he sat surprised, and not a word did say. At length he spoke, “My dear,” said he, “the priest has run away; To gulp such mummery and tripe, I’m not for sure, quite able; I’ll go with you and we’ll renounce this Roman Catholic fable.” (Irish Poem; Author Unknown)
Growing up in a small town, I ventured into the perilous and confusing arena of the occult. Later, as a Christian, I was thrust headlong into a much broader view of religion through Biblical apologetics and the life experience of missionary outreach among a variety of denominational traditions. In effort to understand and meet the needs of people from different cultures and religious backgrounds my wife, Peggy, and I have always tried to find some form of practical application to what we have studied. In 1989 we traveled with a medical missionary team made up of an assortment of Christian denominations to Haiti with Peggy serving as the dentist. To get a glimpse at the mind of Islam we listened to the Muslims and Christians debate at “Speaker’s Corner” in London’s Hyde Park in 1988. On the Alaska/Canadian coast we have logged thousands of miles on boats exploring remote towns and villages. Several road trips across the United States put us in Mormon fundamentalist towns where polygamy is still a part of that “old time” religion. We have been to Jehovah’s Witness conventions, Bahai Faith meetings, Muslim Mosques, Buddhist temples and Mormon testimony meetings.