Most of you are probably familiar with the following quote from Carl Sagan:
Doctrines that make no predictions are less compelling than those which make correct predictions; they are in turn more successful than doctrines that make false predictions.
But not always. One prominent American religion confidently predicted that the world would end in 1914. Well, 1914 has come and gone, and -- while the events of that year were certainly of some importance -- the world does not, at least so far as I can see, seem to have ended. There are at least three responses that an organized religion can make in the face of such a failed and fundamental prophecy. They could have said, "Oh, did we say `1914'? So sorry, we meant `2014.' A slight error in calculation. Hope you weren't inconvenienced in any way." But they did not. They could have said, "Well, the world would have ended, except we prayed very hard and interceded with God so He spared the Earth." But they did not. Instead, they did something much more ingenious. They announced that the world had in fact ended in 1914, and if the rest of us hadn't noticed, that was our lookout. It is astonishing in the face of such transparent evasions that this religion has any adherents at all. But religions are tough. Either they make no contentions which are subject to disproof or they quickly redesign doctrine after disproof. The fact that religions can be so shamelessly dishonest, so contemptuous of the intelligence of their adherents, and still flourish does not speak very well for the tough-mindedness of the believers. But it does indicate, if a demonstration were needed, that near the core of the religious experience is something remarkably resistant to rational inquiry. Carl Sagan in "Broca's Brain"
I was recently browsing through the 1975 year book and found this staggering description which serves as a perfect illustration of Sagan’s observation:
*** yb75 p. 73 United States of America (Part One) ***
An incident at the Saratoga Springs convention in 1914 highlights Brother Macmillan’s view of “going home” to heaven in that year. He wrote: “Wednesday (September 30) I was invited to talk on the subject, ‘The End of All Things Is at Hand; Therefore Let Us Be Sober, Watchful and Pray.’ Well, as one would say, that was down my road. I believed it myself sincerely—that the church was ‘going home’ in October. During that discourse I made this unfortunate remark: ‘This is probably the last public address I shall ever deliver because we shall be going home soon.’”
The next morning, October 1, 1914, about five hundred Bible Students enjoyed a lovely ride down the Hudson River on a steamer from Albany to New York. On Sunday the conventioners were to open sessions in Brooklyn, where the assembly would end. Quite a few delegates stayed at Bethel, and, of course, members of the headquarters staff were present at the breakfast table on Friday morning, October 2. Everyone was seated when Brother Russell entered. As usual, he said cheerily, “Good morning, all.” But this particular morning was different. Instead of proceeding promptly to his seat, he clapped his hands and joyfully announced: “The Gentile times have ended; their kings have had their day.” “How we clapped our hands!” exclaims Cora Merrill. Brother Macmillan admitted: “We were highly excited and I would not have been surprised if at that moment we had just started up, that becoming the signal to begin ascending heavenward—but of course there was nothing like that, really.” Sister Merrill adds: “After a brief pause he [Russell] said: ‘Anyone disappointed? I’m not. Everything is moving right on schedule!’ Again we clapped our hands.”
1914, 1925, 1975, Generation 1914, the brothers just clapped their hands no matter what. I think the juxtaposittion of Sagan's observation with this account from the yearbook shows the importance of self-delusion in the WTS from day one.
Pole