01.02. THE FUNCTION OF THE MINISTRY

CHAPTER II THE FUNCTION OF THE MINISTRY Is there any longer need for a Church and a ministry? That men and women are putting this question to themselves, and answering it either with a doubtful affirmative or with a positive negative, cannot be questioned by any student of modern thought.

There are a few who agree, more or less definitely, with Strauss [1] that " instead of a prerogative of human nature it [religion] appears as a weakness which adhered to mankind during the period of childhood, but which it must outgrow on attaining maturity." They rank religion with superstition, believe it to be the product of priestcraft, - something which has been imposed upon the credulity of mankind, - a weakness, not a strength; a feebleness, if not a folly, which belongs to the primitive condition of mankind, and is to be discarded as mankind reaches its higher development. Such men look with contempt upon the institutions of religion, because they look with contempt upon religion itself.

Others believe that reverence and awe are necessary [1] David Friedrich Strauss: The Old Faith and the New, i, 158. experiences of the human soul, but that they are aroused by mystery, and dispelled by knowledge. In their view all that concerns the Infinite and the Eternal is involved in impenetrable mystery. God is the Unknown and the Unknowable. Religion cannot be defined in doctrine, nor taught in textbooks and sermons, nor embodied in institutions.

Such men discard religious teaching and religious institutions, because they hold that the invisible lies beyond the realm of apprehension. They think, if they do not say, with Huxley, " truly on this topic silence is golden; while speech reaches not even the dignity of sounding brass or tinkling cymbal, and is but the weary clatter of an endless logomachy." [1] To those who have clearly defined their views, even to themselves, as thus anti-religious or unreligious, must be added a larger number of men and women whose education has taught them that the intellectual forms in which religion has expressed itself in the past are not consistent with truths clearly revealed to us by modern investigation.

They can no longer believe in the infallibility of the Bible, or in the historicity of miracles as miracles are understood by them, or in the fall of man and the entrance of imperfection and sin into the world as a consequence of that fall, or even in the personality of God, which they identify with the anthropomorphic conceptions of Deity formed by [1] T. H. Huxley: Hume, p. 183. them in their childhood; and as these intellectual forms of religion are still in their minds identified with the Church and its teachings, they either attend the Church and listen to those teachings with impatience or indifference, or discard both the Church and the ’ministry altogether.

More than either, probably more than all these classes combined, are those who discard the institutions of religion, not because they discard religion, but because they think that religion is so pervasive, so universal, so fundamental an instinct of humanity that institutions of religion are no longer needed.

Religion is a spirit, and all the experiences of life are engaged in promoting and developing it. Time was, such men say to themselves, when religious institutions were indispensable, and they are still indispensable to certain classes in the community.

They are, therefore, to be respected, encouraged, perhaps supported; but the world is outgrowing them; other instrumentalities have come in to develop the religious spirit and to make ecclesiastical organizations unnecessary. The apostle Peter catalogues the elements which go to make up a divinely organized character: "Add to your faith virtue, and to virtue knowledge, and to knowledge temperance, and to temperance patience, and to patience godliness, and to godliness brotherly kindness, and to brotherly kindness love." 1 Various instrumentalities in society, say such non-churchgoers, are [1] 2 Peter 1:5-7. developing these virtues in man as well or better than rituals and sermons. Athletics produce virtue, or manliness. The requirements of business promote temperance, because drinking men are no longer wanted in positions of trust. Daily life, by the burdens which it lays upon us, develops patience as no preacher can develop it. Social intercourse evokes in us brotherly kindness. The home, the wife, the children inspire in us love. There remain in the apostle’s catalogue faith and godliness. Concerning these two qualities such skeptics are silent. Perhaps in confidential conversation they will admit that the old religion produced certain qualities of piety and reverence which modern scientific thought, business activity, and social affiliations do nothing to produce, but if so, they will regard the loss with mild regret, as they regard the lost arts of a bygone civilization; possibly they may say with Frederic Harrison and the Humanists, more probably they will think without saying, that the new reverence for Humanity must take the place of the old reverence for God. Says the author of " Letters from a Chinese Official: "

Humanity they [the Chinese] are taught as a being spiritual and eternal manifesting itself in time in a series of generations. This being is the mediator between heaven and earth, between the ultimate ideal and the existing fact. By labor incessant and devout to raise earth to heaven, to realize in fact the good that exists as yet only in idea - that is the end and purpose of human life, and in fulfilling it we achieve and maintain our unity, each with every other and all with the Divine.

Here surely is a faith not unworthy to be called a religion. [1]

If faith is looking upon the things that are unseen, this is not faith. If religion is a perception of the Infinite, this is not religion. Looking at one’s self in the mirror and worshiping one’s own image is not reverence. Spelling humanity with a capital H does not make it divine. But this reverence for an idealized humanity is offered by a few and accepted by many as a substitute for that religion which is the life of God in the soul of man.

Other men in the community, and these probably a still greater number, regard religion as important, and even the Church and the institutions of religion as valuable, but not for themselves. " I always thought," says Moses Pennel, " that my wife must be one of the sort of women who pray." [2] Moses Pennel is a type. Many men desire the inspirations and restraints of religion for others, but do not desire those inspirations, still less those restraints, for themselves. They are glad to have their children in the Sunday-school and their wives in the church, but they do not go themselves; they say in moments of confidence, When we go to church we get nothing from it, we do not hear as good music as at the opera, and the minister tells [1] Letters from a Chinese Official, p. 52.

[2] Harriet Beecher Stowe: Pearl of Orr’s Island, p. 321. us nothing we did not know before; we prefer to remain at home and read. To these classes must be added still another, and a not inconsiderable one, of those who discard the Church because it seems to them to discard religion.

Liberal leaders have told them that Christianity is a life, not a doctrine, that the inspiration of this life is to be found in Jesus Christ, and the ideal of this life in his teachings and his character, and they declare that they do not find this ideal presented or this inspiration afforded by the Christian Church. This class is thus described by the editor of " The Hibbert Journal: " The type of plain man we are considering wants a more valid proof than has yet been offered that the world is serious when it professes the Christianity which is a life and not a creed. He doubts, moreover, whether he could seriously and honestly make such a profession himself. He is by all operative standards an honorable man; he deals honestly in trade, is a good husband and father, faithful to his friends (though perhaps a little hard on his foes), public-spirited, patriotic, munificent. But to pretend that the ethics of the Sermon on the Mount are his, even in their spirit, would be a flagrant falsehood. He admires the beauty, he may even admit the philosophic truth of the principle which bids him lose his life to save it; but he is an acting member of a community whose industrial life is based on the opposite principle of competition! He knows the danger of riches; remembers the saying about laying up treasure on earth; but willingly and eagerly takes his part in an economic system which rests on the accumulation of wealth. He is a firm supporter of the criminal law; holds that great armaments are necessary to the life of nations; takes pride in the majesty and power of the British fleet; upholds the Government when it shakes the mailed fist in the face of foreign nations, - and he will not sully his conscience by pretending that he who does these things is a believer, in any sense whatever, in non-resistance to evil, in unlimited forgiveness, or in the principle of turning the other cheek. If these commandments are involved in the Christianity which is a life, if obedience to them is required of the followers of Christ, then he is no Christian, and will not pretend to be. [1]

Perhaps if, when he went to church, he heard the Christian ideal simply and clearly defined, and the violations of that ideal current in human society candidly and courageously condemned, he might continue to go, though he fell under that condemnation himself; but he declines to go to a church which substitutes a lower ideal, condones where it should condemn, or offers acceptance of a creed, long or short, simple or complex, or participation in a ritual, liturgical or non-liturgical, for a simple and real acceptance of the precepts and principles of Jesus Christ, and an honest endeavor to apply them to the current problems of modern life. The view of these classes, more or less clearly defined, more or less consciously entertained, that [1] The Hibbert Journal, January, 1904, pp. 254, 255. the institutions of religion are no longer necessary for the promotion of the higher life, or that the institutions of religion as they exist in this country to-day no longer do promote the higher life, seems to receive some confirmation from the fact that certain functions which the Church once performed it no longer needs to perform, because other institutions have come in to take its place and to do its work in these departments.

I. The Church was originally the administrator of charity. When the Church was horn there were no organized charities in the world. There are expressions of charity in the ancient moralists, no doubt, but charity, organically, wisely, systematically administered, did not exist in pagan Rome, and was not developed by pagan literature. Says Mr. Lecky, However fully they [the Stoics] might reconcile in theory their principles with the widest and most active benevolence, they could not wholly counteract the practical evil of a system which declared war against the whole emotional side of our being, and reduced human virtue to a kind of majestic egotism... The framework or theory of benevolence might be there, but the animating spirit was absent. Men who taught that the husband or father should look with perfect indifference on the death of his wife or his child, and that the philosopher, though he may shed tears of pretended sympathy in order to console his suffering friend, must suffer no real emotion to penetrate his heart, could never found a true or lasting religion of benevolence. Men who refused to recognize pain and sickness as evils were scarcely likely to be very eager to relieve them in others. [1]

When, therefore, the Christian churches came into existence, they had not only to inspire the spirit of benevolence, but they had also to organize the activities of benevolence. There were no organizations into which they could put the expression of the new life. There were no charitable organizations; and the Church was not in touch with the great political organizations and could not affect them. If the work of benevolence was to be done at all, it had to be done by the Church; and the Church, therefore, became an organized charitable society. This work of charity done by the Church became one of its most prominent pieces of work.

Says Edwin Hatch, The teaching of the earliest Christian homily which has come down to us [Clement on Romans xvi] elevates almsgiving to the chief place in Christian practice, " Fasting is better than prayer, almsgiving is better than fasting: blessed is the man who is found perfect therein, for almsgiving lightens the weight of sin." It was in this point that the Christian communities were unlike the other associations which surrounded them. Other associations were charitable: but whereas in them charity was an accident, in Christian associations it was of the essence. They gave to the religious revival which almost always accompanies a period of social strain the special direction of philanthropy. They brought into the European [1] W. E. H. Lecky: History of European Morals, i, pp. 201, I world that regard for the poor which had been for centuries the burden of Jewish hymns. [1]

Out of these conditions grew the organization of the early churches. They were almoners of charity no less than preachers of religion. The spirit of charity which they created they also organized; the gifts which they inspired they also distributed. That spirit of humanity which leads the rich to provide for the poor, and the competent to care for the incompetent, - the deaf and blind and sick and weak-minded, - existed only very feebly, and only in exceptional individuals, outside of the Christian Church; and as this spirit of humanity was distinctively and almost exclusively a church as well as a Christian virtue, its organic exercise was naturally intrusted to church officers. Out of this charitable work grew, as Dr. Hatch tells us, the bishopric. But in our time the conditions have entirely changed, - changed because the Church has done its fundamental work so thoroughly. The spirit of humanity is still a Christian virtue; but it is no longer a distinctively church virtue. The Church has so permeated Christendom with the spirit of humanity that it no longer needs administer through its own organism the spirit of charity which it has inspired. The city, the state, the nation, have become charitable organizations. The system of penology

[1] Edwin Hatch: Organization of the Early Christian Churches, pp. 35, 36. Comp. A. P. Stanley: Christian Institutions, pp. 210, 211. has become a system of reform. Hospitals and poorhouses and orphan asylums are founded, some by the political organism, others by private enterprise. And it is a little difficult for the philosopher to see why church charities should exist to any great extent. Why should we have a Presbyterian hospital and an Episcopal hospital? Is there a Presbyterian method of setting a broken bone, or an Episcopalian method of curing typhoid fever? Nor can it be said that church hospitals are doing any better or any different work than the hospitals which are inspired by the Christian Church, but not directed by it.

It is not, then, the function of the Christian minister, primarily, to be an almoner of public charity, or to be an administrator of philanthropic work. Whether it is best that a church should be what men call an institutional church or not, will depend altogether upon circumstances. If it is situated in a community where that kind of work is already adequately and sufficiently done, or in a community where it can inspire men to do it by other than distinctively church organizations, that is the better way. It is better to inspire the Young Men’s Christian Association to carry on a gymnasium than for the Church to carry on a gymnasium.

It is better to inspire the city to maintain a hospital than for the Church to maintain a hospital.

Nevertheless, there remains a very fundamental charitable work for the Church to do. Much insist ence is put in our time upon organized charity, - and not too much; but it is quite possible to put all the emphasis on the organization and none on the charity. The primary function of the Church is to inspire in men the spirit of love, not to organize, direct, or administer that love when it has been inspired. There are other organizations - national, state, voluntary - to carry out the requirements of that spirit whenever and wherever it exists. But what institution, other than the Church, makes it a direct, specific, and definite object to create, foster, and develop the spirit of charity? The cry, More money for hospitals and less for churches, is like the cry, More water for the reservoir and less for the springs. For the greater proportion of the money for all benevolent and educational institutions supported by private contributions comes either directly from the churches, or indirectly from them through men whose education has been received in the churches and whose ideals have been obtained there. The Church is to be measured, not by the institutions it sustains, but by the inspiration it imparts.

Even where the conditions of the community are such as to require an institutional church, the more institutional it is, the more necessary that it should be made inspirational. These subsidiary institutions, - the boys’ club, the girls’ club, the gymnasium, the kindergarten, - as carried on by a church, are but the instruments by which the Church is to serve men in the higher life. The clergyman who allows himself to forget his great work, which is the promotion of the life of God in the soul of man, in order that he may establish a philanthropic institution or a gymnasium or a kindergarten or a sewing-school, allows himself to be diverted from the higher and nobler service to one that is less important. It is a great mistake if the modern minister substitutes the charitable administration of a philanthropic machine for the inspirational work of the pulpit, kindling in men the flame of human love and of godly reverence. To do this is to do exactly the reverse of that which the Apostles counseled; they said, " It is not reason that we should leave the word of God, and serve tables." [1] The word of God is the revealing of God to men; serving tables is philanthropic ministry to the lesser, though more apparent, needs of men.

II. A second function which the Church exercised in the olden time, and which it no longer has occasion to exercise, was that of government. When the Roman Empire fell into ruins, and the Imperial autocracy was dissolved, little or nothing remained of government for a time but the municipal system. The members of the municipal governing bodies became discouraged and apathetic, and the priests and bishops, full of the new life, naturally and rightfully offered themselves to do the work of superintendence and administration for the muni-

[1] Acts 6:2. cipalities. They became the principal municipal magistrates, because they were the men of force and honor. " We should be wrong," says Guizot, " to reproach them for this, to tax them with usurpation. It was all in the natural course of things; the clergy alone were morally strong and animated; they became everywhere powerful. Such is the law of the universe." [1] As the result of this cooperation with the civil authorities in the administration of the municipalities, political power gradually passed over to the bishops, and then finally to the Bishop of Rome, and there ensued the next stage of political development, in which the clergy cooperated with the civilians in the administration of the State. They divided the functions, the clergy taking the ecclesiastical side of life, the civilians the civil side of life. Under this system the Church and the State became one, as they had been one in the Hebrew Commonwealth. The identification of the two in one organism is thus described by Professor James Bryce, Thus the Holy Roman Church and the Holy Roman Empire are one and the same thing, in two aspects; and Catholicism, the principle of the universal Christian society, is also Romanism; that is, rests upon Rome as the origin and type of its universality; manifesting itself in a mystic dualism which corresponds to the two natures of its Founder. As divine and eternal, its head is the [1] Guizot: History of Civilization in Europe, i, 36.

Pope, to whom souls have been entrusted; as human and temporal, the Emperor, commissioned to rule men’s bodies and acts. But this, which Mr. Bryce well calls " the one perfect and self-consistent scheme of the union of Church and State," proved to be impracticable; in fact, was attained only at a few points in the history of the Holy Boman Empire.

It was finally supplanted by another view of their relation, which, professing to be a development of a principle recognized as fundamental, the superior importance of the religious life, found increasing favor in the eyes of fervent churchmen. Declaring the Pope sole representative on earth of the Deity, it concluded that from him, and not directly from God, must the Empire be held, - held feudally, it was said by many, - and it thereby thrust down the temporal power, to be the slave instead of the sister of the spiritual. Nevertheless, the Papacy in her meridian, and under the guidance of her greatest minds, of Hildebrand, of Alexander, of Innocent, not seeking to abolish or absorb the civil government, required only its obedience, and exalted its dignity against all save herself. [1]

Thus there were three stages in the development of the political power of the Church: in the first, the clergy went into politics because there was no one else to administer public affairs; in the second, the clergy divided political functions with the laymen, they taking one part, the laymen the other; in the third and last, the clergy assumed the responsibility [1] James Bryce: The Holy Boman Empire, pp. 106-109. of telling the laymen what they ought to do, and enforced their counsels by spiritual authority. By common consent, in America, the first two of these methods of clerical participation in politics are abandoned. It is universally agreed that it is not the function of clergymen, as clergymen, to manage legislatures or municipal assemblies. If Dr. Washington Gladden goes into the Common Council of Columbus, he is not there in his capacity of clergyman. There is nothing in American politics which corresponds to the participation of the Bishops of the Church of England in the English government, through their seats in the House of Lords. But there are those who think that the Christian ministry ought to tell the people how to perform their political duties. When those duties were performed by the Emperor, it was the Pope’s duty to tell the Emperor how to perform them; now that they are performed by all the people, ought not modern ministers to tell the people how to perform them? In other words, ought not the minister to preach politics? This question cannot be answered categorically* It cannot be answered unqualifiedly in the negative, for all duties are proper themes for the minister, and free citizenship imposes certain duties on the citizen. It cannot be answered unqualifiedly in the affirmative, for in politics questions of ethics, questions of policy, and questions concerning party leaders and party organizations are so interwoven that it is often impossible to preach on the current political questions without becoming the advocate of one side of a question of political expediency, if not the apologist or eulogist of a party candidate or a party organization.

There are two things necessary to good government in a free commonwealth: the first is a diffused spirit of patriotism, justice, and good-will; the second is the organization of this spirit of patriotism, justice, and good-will in laws and political institutions. It is the function of the lawyer, the statesman, the political reformer, to formulate the spirit of patriotism, justice, and good-will in laws and institutions; it is the function of the minister to develop the spirit of patriotism, justice, and goodwill that it may be in the community to be formulated. It is the function of the minister to inculcate by every means in his power the fundamental principle that the Indian in this country is to be treated with justice, that he is not to be robbed and kept in ignorance and denied liberty; but the questions, How shall we frame our laws for this purpose? Shall the Indian be under the War Department or under the Interior Department? Shall the reservation be broken up, and in what way? do not belong to him, as minister, to solve. In the nature of the case, the statesman must be an opportunist if he is to succeed; that is, he must consider the immediate effect of the present action. But we need other men in the community than opportunists. We need men with a long look ahead; men who are not considering what will be the immediate effect; men who consider what will be the ultimate effect of human action on the kingdom of God. Such is the minister. He is or should be an idealist. When an idealist goes into politics and undertakes to carry out his ideals in political action, he fails; when an opportunist goes into the pulpit and undertakes to measure human policies by immediate results, he fails. So long as Savonarola proclaimed the great fundamental principles of truth and righteousness and justice, he was a great power in Italy; when he undertook to become a political leader and frame the policies for the State, he lost his power. The function of the minister is not to tell men how they ought to vote in the immediate issue before the community. His function is to inspire in his congregation the faith that God is in his world working out his kingdom, and the purpose to work with him to that end. It is to lift men above the issues of the hour to the eternal issues; above the party conflicts of the hour to the eternal conflict between truth and error, light and darkness, humanity and injustice, selfishness and generosity, good and evil, in which all temporary conflicts are but episodes. It is to cause them to consider the effect of their action, not upon their own personal interests, nor upon those of their party, but upon the kingdom of God. If the minister, strong in that perception of God which constitutes the essence of religion, perceives him in public affairs, and causes his congregation to look there for him also, he may contribute nothing directly to the solution of tariff, or currency, or colonial questions, on which the nation is to vote; but he will do what is far more important, - he will promote that spirit of divine justice which clarifies the mind from the disturbing influences of pride and passion, and that long look ahead which is the best guide for the action of each day. If, on the contrary, the minister fails to do this, no one else will or can fulfill this function; it will remain unfulfilled.

If, then, I could reach my brethren in the ministry with my pen, my message to them would be this, Deal with all the public issues of your time, but deal with them exclusively in their relation to the kingdom of God. As a citizen, you may be a Republican or a Democrat, a Populist or a Prohibitionist, but in your pulpit be neither. Do not undertake to use your ministerial influence to promote the success of special candidates or parties or political policies. It is not certain that you are infallible; it is very certain that your congregation will not believe that you are. You and I are men of like passions as other men. In the midst of a heated political campaign we ourselves get the heats of the campaign burning like a fever in our veins. During the Bryan campaign the ministers who preached on the political issue in the East assured us that the gold standard was the only honest money, and the ministers who preached in Colorado were equally certain that free silver was the only honest money.

Remember, too, that there are men who are shrewder than you are, who will be very glad to get your influence to promote the result of the election of to-day, but who care nothing for the relation of that vote or of your influence to the kingdom of God in the world. Do not work for parties, nor for candidates, nor for immediate results; do not be an opportunist. Carry your idealism into all your teaching concerning political questions. Work for the triumph of the kingdom of God, not for the triumph of a political party. Do not imagine that the triumph of the kingdom of God is identical with or even dependent upon the triumph of a political party. Remember that there are honest men in all parties and dishonest men in all, and seek not to promote victory for the party of your choice, but to promote whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are pure, in men of all parties and in men of none.

III. A third function which the Church formerly exercised, and which is now better exercised by other instrumentalities, is that of secular education. In the first century the only schools for the common people were those connected with the Jewish synagogues. Neither Rome nor Greece made any provision for the education of the common people. Christianity inherited from Judaism, with its free spirit and its free political institutions, its educational system. The Church established, with charities for the poor, schools for the ignorant, and for a long time these parish schools furnished the only provision of any kind for the education of the children of the poor. Out of these parish schools grew institutions of higher learning, mainly devoted, however, to preparation of an elect few for the clerical profession. Protestants ought always to hold in grateful remembrance the monasteries, not only because in their libraries they preserved the manuscripts which have brought down to our time the best thoughts of the ancients, whether pagan or Christian, secular or religious, but also because they handed over to the Christian community from the Hebrew community the provision which the latter had made for popular education. But, on the other hand, Roman Catholics ought not to forget that this educational work of the Church was carried on, not because the Church believed this to be her prime function, but because it was absolutely necessary work, and there was no other organization willing or able to undertake it. It is not the primary function of the Church to furnish secular instruction.

Says the Rev. Thomas Bouquillon, Professor of Moral Theology at the Catholic University of America, Washington, D. C., The Church has received from her Divine Founder the mission to teach the supernatural truths... But the Church has not received the mission to make known the human sciences, she has not been established for the progress of nations in the arts and sciences, no more than to render them powerful and wealthy... Her duty of teaching human sciences is only indirect - a work of charity or of necessity: of charity when they are not sufficiently taught by others who have that duty; of necessity when they are badly taught, that is, taught in a sense opposed to supernatural truth and morality. This is why the missionary, setting foot in a savage land, though he begins with the preaching of the Gospel, very soon establishes schools... There are men who seem to assert that the Church has received the mission to teach human as well as divine science. They give to the words of Christ, Euntes docete (go and teach), an indefinite interpretation. But such an interpretation is evidently false. [1] I do not affirm that this is the authoritative position of the Roman Catholic Church on this subject.

Probably many Roman Catholic authorities would dissent from it. Certainly the doctrine that furnishing education is the primary function of the State is still hotly denied by ecclesiastics, both Protestant and Roman Catholic, in Europe. The religious war now raging in France is the result of an endeavor by the State to take the work of teaching out of the hands of the Church into its own hands. The recent Educational Bill in England is the re

[1] Thomas Bouquillon: Education: To Whom Does it Belong? See also two other pamphlets by the same author and with same title: (1) A Rejoinder to the Civilta Cattolica; (2) A Rejoinder to Critics. suit of an endeavor by the Church to recover the supervision and control of the educational work of that country, partially taken out of its control and lodged in that of the state authorities by a previous administration. But for America we may consider this question decided. The great body of the people, Protestant and Roman Catholic, agree in their support of the public school; and this means that they agree in their belief that education for the common people is to be furnished by the State, not by the Church; that in its control and administration it is to be civil, not ecclesiastical. There will probably always be private schools and church schools in America, but they will be the exception. The education of American boys and girls in the industries, the arts, and the sciences will be mainly furnished, not in parochial but in public schools, not under the control of the clergy, but under the control of the State.

It is true that there are still flourishing denominational colleges. But in most Protestant communions these are denominational in name rather than in reality, in the control to which they are intrusted, rather than in any doctrine which they teach or even any influence which they exert. But although in America the Church has relegated to the State the work of educating the youth in the arts and sciences, it does not follow that the Church has no longer any educational function.

Says Professor Huxley,

Education is the instruction of the intellect in the laws of Nature, - under which name I include not merely things and their forces, but men and their ways; and the fashioning of the affections and of the will into an earnest and loving desire to move in harmony with those laws. For me, education means neither more nor less than this. Anything which professes to call itself education must be tried by this standard, and if it fails to stand the test, I will not call it education, whatever may be the force of authority, or of numbers, upon the other side. [1] The State is, in the main, admirably giving instruction of the intellect in the laws of Nature; but she is doing little or nothing directly to fashion the affections aud the will into an earnest and loving desire to move in harmony with those laws. And that this fashioning of the affections and the will is quite as essential as the instruction of the intellect we are beginning in America to discover.

Man is not governed by his reason; he is guided by his reason, but he is governed by his emotive powers, by his affections and his will, by his appetites, his passions, his love of acquisition, his love of approbation, his self-esteem, or by his reverence, his conscience, his hope, his love. A man whose intellect is well instructed, but whose affections are ill trained, is more poorly educated than one whose affections are well trained and whose intellect is ill instructed; as an ocean steamer is a more helpless object if it is without an engine [1] T. H. Huxley: Science and Education, p. 83. than if it is without a rudder. We have yet to learn how in this country to organize and carry on a system of education which will fulfill the definition of Professor Huxley: which will fashion the affections and the will, as well as instruct the intellect. This is not to be done by dividing education into two departments, and intrusting the instruction of the intellect to the State and the fashioning of the affections to the Church; nor is it to be done by establishing a state church in order to give in the state schools instruction in the doctrines of the Church. A Roman Catholic bishop of this country has in a pregnant paragraph intimated the way in which it must be done. Says the Right Rev. John J. Keane, D. D., A school is not made a Christian school by taking up a good deal of time in doctrinal instruction or in devotional exercises, which would otherwise be spent in acquiring secular knowledge. Some time, indeed, must be given to these, and it ought to be, and can be, made the most instructive and beneficial part of the school hours; but that time need not be, and should not be, so long as to be wearisome to the pupils or damaging to other studies. What, above all, make it a Christian school are the moral atmosphere, the general tone, the surrounding objects, the character of the teachers, the constant endeavor, the loving tact, the gentle skill, by which the light and the spirit of Christianity - its lessons for the head, for the heart, for the whole character - are made to pervade and animate the whole school-life of the child; just as the good parent desires that they should animate his whole future life in all his manifold duties and relations as man and as citizen. This is the kind of a school which a parent, anxious as in duty bound to give his child as thorough Christian training as possible, will naturally choose. [1] As it is not the primary function of the Church to administer charities, but it is its primary function to inspire in the community the spirit of charity; as it is not the primary function of the Church to govern, nor to tell either emperors, aristocracies, or democracies how to govern, but it is its primary function to inspire in the rulers of the land the spirit of justice out of which all righteous policies proceed; so it is not the primary function of the Church to administer systems of education; but it is the primary function of the Church to inspire in the community such a desire to fashion the affections and the will in conformity to the laws of life, that the public school shall fulfill the end of education as defined by Professor Huxley; that is, shall fashion the affections and the will, as well as instruct the intellect, and shall be a Christian school as defined by Bishop Keane; that is, Christian in its moral atmosphere, in its general tone, and in the character of its teachers. Nor can it be doubted that it is a greater work to inspire the community with the spirit of charity than to administer particular charities; to inspire all parties with the spirit [1] The Rt. Rev. John J. Keane: Denominational Schools, p. 9. of justice than to counsel particular policies, or contribute to the victory of any party; to inspire the school system with Christlikeness of disposition than to teach the pupils in a parochial school the tenets and ritual of a denomination. This work the Church can do’ only by being true to its specific work, - that of ministering to the Christian life of the community.

Let us recur to our definition of the Christian religion: The Christian religion consists in such a perception of the Infinite, as manifested in the life and character of Jesus Christ, that the perception is able to promote in man Christlikeness of character. Then a Christian church is a body of men and women who possess in some degree such a perception of the Infinite in Jesus Christ and some Christlikeness of character, and who have united for the purpose of imparting to others that perception, and developing in others that character. Catholics - whether Roman, Greek, or Anglican - believe that the Church was organized by Jesus Christ himself, and that loyalty to him requires his disciples to unite with that historic organization; Protestants believe that any men and women possessing this vision of God, and animated by this purpose to impart it and its fruits to others, have a right to constitute themselves a church of Christ for that purpose. But both Catholics and Protestants agree that a church, if it be a church of Christ, must be animated by the spirit of faith, hope, and charity; faith, that is, the perception of the Infinite in Christ; hope, that is, the aspiration for Christlikeness which that perception inspires; love, that is, a desire to impart both the perception and the resultant life to the world. The message of the Christian Church is very simple and very profound. It is not a series of disjointed messages, though many counsels of perfection grow out of it. It cannot be adequately formulated in a creed, though it involves a new and inspiring conception of life. It cannot be stated in words, because life always transcends definition; and yet a few simple words may suffice to suggest it. It is that God is not the Unknown and the Unknowable; that though he transcends all our definitions, yet he is a self-revealing God; that he manifests himself in nature, in the world’s history, in human experience, and preeminently in the person and character of Jesus Christ; that through Jesus Christ the manifestations of God in nature, in history, and in human experience are interpreted, and, so to speak, vocalized; that in knowing God, in acquaintance with him, in participation in his life, is the secret of life, the fruits of which are love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, fidelity, meekness, self-control; that love, not any ordered selfishness, is the true social bond; that loyalty to God’s law, not any divine right of kings or of democracies, is the foundation of just government; that character building, not any mere intellectual instruction, is the only adequate education; and, finally, that the secret of all social well-being is the individual life, the secret of all individual life is acquaintance with God, and the supreme source of acquaintance with God is Jesus Christ. In giving this message the Church of Christ is more than an instrument of social reform. It is a minister to life. And in its ministry to life it responds to the two deepest and most universal desires of mankind; the desire for peace and the desire for power.

Every healthful man sometimes looks back regretfully upon his past. He is conscious of blunders in judgment, of aberrations of will, of deliberate acts of wrong-doing which have brought injury upon himself and upon others. He wishes that he could live again his life, or some particular crisis in his life. His experience answers more or less consciously to the expression in the General Confession in the Book of Common Prayer: " We have done the things which we ought not to have done, and we have left undone the things which we ought to have done," even if his self-dissatisfaction does not lead him to add, " and there is no health in us." [1] Sometimes this is a keen sense of shame for some specific deed done or duty neglected; sometimes it is a vague feeling of self-condemnation, without clearly defined [1] The Book of Common Prayer: The Order for Daily Morning and for Daily Evening Prayer. specific cause; sometimes it is a passing shadow, evanescent and uninfluential; sometimes it is a morbid self-condemnation, depressing the spirits and tending toward despair. But he who has never felt this sense of remorse in some one of its various forms is singularly lacking, either in his memory, his ideals, or his power of sitting in judgment upon his own conduct and character. It is doubtful whether any desire which the human soul ever possessed is keener or more overmastering than the desire which sometimes possesses it, in certain phases of experience, to be rid of its ineradicable past, and to be permitted to begin life anew,unclogged and unburdened. The other spiritual hunger of the soul relates to the future. The soul is conscious of undeveloped possibilities in itself; it is spurred on to it knows not what future by unsatisfied aspirations. It longs to do and to be more, and rather to be than to do.

It has in the sphere of moral experience aspirations which may be compared to those which have summoned the greatest musicians and the greatest artists to their careers. This sense of unsatisfied aspiration differs from the sense of remorse in that it relates to the future, not to the past; the one is a consciousness of wrong committed or duty left undone, the other of life incomplete. The cry of the soul in the one experience is that of Paul: " Who shall deliver me from the body of this death?"[1] The cry of the other is that of Tennyson, [1] Rom. vii, 24 And ah for a man to arise in me, That the man I am may cease to be! [1] The one is a craving for peace, the other for achievement. The one belongs to a nature which dwells in the past, the other to a nature which lives in the future. Not only are different temperaments differently affected, the one being more conscious of regret, the other of unsatisfied aspiration; but the same person sometimes experiences the one, sometimes the other. One age of the world is more prone to the former, another age to the latter. In our time there is comparatively little experience of regret for the past. There is, to use the phrase current in theological circles, very little " conviction of sin." The age has its face set toward the future. Its ideals lie before it, not behind. It is eager, expectant, hopeful, aspiring. It takes no time to look back, not even time enough to learn the lessons which the past can teach. But it is full of eager expectations for a nobler civilization, a better distribution of wealth, more harmonious relations between employer and employed, juster government, better social and industrial conditions, a nearer approximation to brotherhood. In the Middle Ages, humanity was burdened by the consciousness of past wrong-doing, and it sought relief from its burden by seclusion from the world in monastic retreats. In the present age, humanity is feverish with unsatisfied aspirations, and is driven by its fever into [1] Tennyson: Maud, X, vi. the world, there to engage in ceaseless and excessive activities. Like a mettlesome steed cruelly roweled with spurs, yet held in by a curb bit, is the present age, spurred on by aspiration to even greater achievements, yet held back by prudential self-interest from the great endeavor and the greater self-sacrifices without which the noblest achievements are always impossible.

It is because the Christian religion professes to be able to satisfy these two passionate desires of the human soul - the desire for peace and the desire for achievement - that it possesses the attraction which the failures and the folly of its adherents may diminish, but cannot destroy.

Christianity is more than a system of ethics - though it has revolutionized ethics; more than a method of worship - though it has furnished a new inspiration to worship and given it a new character; more than a philosophy of life - though it has given to life a new interpretation. It is a new life founded on a historic fact; take that fact away and it is difficult to see how the life could survive. The belief of the universal Christian Church in that fact is expressed with incomparable simplicity in the words of one of the more ancient Christian creeds: " I believe... in one Lord Jesus Christ. ... Who for us men, and for our salvation came down from heaven." [1] What is the relation of this Lord Jesus Christ to the Eternal Father from whom [1] The Nicene Creed. he came, and how he accomplishes our salvation, are questions to which Christian philosophers give different answers. But all Christian believers accept the historic fact that there is one Lord Jesus Christ, and that he came down from heaven for us men and our salvation. In its possession of this faith and its interest in this fact lies the secret of the power of the Christian Church. Rob it of this faith, take from it this fact, and its peculiar power would be gone; it would only be a teacher of ethics, or a school of philosophy, or a conductor of religious mysteries in an unintelligible worship of an unknown God. For in its possession of this fact lies its power to take from men the two burdens which so sorely oppress them, - that of remorse for a wrongful past, that of unsatisfied aspiration in the present and for the future.

Empowered by this fact, the Church declares to men burdened that their sins are forgiven them. This is not a philosophical statement founded on a general faith that God is good and therefore will forgive sins; still less is it the enunciation of a general belief that he is merciful and therefore will not be very exacting of his children, but will let them off from deserved punishment if they appeal to him with adequate signs of repentance, in penances or otherwise. It is the statement of the historic fact that God forgave men their sins before they repented; that he bears no ill-will and no wrath against them; that he only desires for them that they shall be good men and true; and that, to accomplish this, his good-will toward them, Jesus Christ has come forth from his Father and our Father into the world. Empowered by this fact, the Church acts as the official and authoritative promulgator of a divine forgiveness, an authoritative and historically reinforced interpreter of the divine disposition; empowered by this fact, the Christian teacher repeats of himself what Jesus Christ said of himself: " The Son of man hath power on earth to forgive sins." [1] He reiterates Christ’s message and with the same authority: " Go in peace and sin no more." [2] He re-declares, not as a theory, but as an historically established fact: " Almighty God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,... hath given power, and commandment, to his ministers, to declare and pronounce to his people, being penitent, the absolution and remission of their sins. He pardoneth and absolveth all those who truly repent, and unfeignedly believe his holy Gospel." [3]

While the Church thus with authority unloosens the burden of the past from those on whom a remorseful memory has bound that past, it also inspires with a hope for the future which turns the anxious and sometimes despairing aspirations into eager and gladly expectant ones. For it tells the story of a Man who in himself fulfilled the spiritual desires

[1] Mark 2:10.

[2] Luke 7:48-50; John 8:11.

[3] The Book of Common Prayer: The Order for Daily Morning and for Daily Evening Prayer. which are in all noble men, and then, departing, left as his legacy the command, which is also a promise: " Follow me." It answers the question, What is human nature? by pointing to the character of Jesus of Nazareth, with the assurance, What he was every man can become. It answers the question, Is life worth living? by pointing to that life and declaring that, as he laid down his life for us, so can we lay down our lives for one another. It presents to humanity not an ideal merely, but a realized ideal, and in this realization of the highest ideal of character gives assurance that our aspirations are not doomed to disappointment, unless we ourselves so doom them. That they are intended by our Father to be realized, and that we can realize them, is historically attested by the life of him who was the Son of man, and who, experiencing our battles, has pointed out to us the possibility of victory and the way to achieve it. This is the secret of the power of the Church, not the excellence of its ethical instruction, not the wisdom of its religious philosophy, not the aesthetic beauty of its buildings or its services, and certainly not the oratory of its preachers: but this, that it is charged with a double message to men burdened by a sense of wrong-doing in the past and tormented by unfulfilled aspirations for the future; a message to the first, Thy sins are forgiven thee; [1] a message to the second, You can do all things

[1] Luke 5:20. through him that strengthened you. [1] Poorly as the Church understands its mission, poorly as it delivers its message, it nevertheless has this as its mission, this as its message. And when it fulfills the one and delivers the other with the power that comes from the conscious possession of divine authority, men gather to its services to receive its gift. This is not the only message of Christianity, it teaches a purer ethics, it proffers a more sacred consolation, it incites to a more joyous and inspiring worship than any other religion; but no other religion has attempted to proclaim with authority pardon for the past, or to give, as from God himself, power for the future. Of the principles which I am here trying to interpret, two illustrations are afforded in the very recent life of the Church, - illustrations which are all the more significant because they come from quarters so dissimilar theologically and ecclesiastically that to many persons they seem to have nothing in common. The first illustration is afforded by the High Church movement in England; the second by the life and work of Dwight L. Moody.

It can hardly be necessary to say that I have no ecclesiastical or theological sympathy with the High Church movement. I do not believe that Jesus Christ organized a church, or appointed bishops, or gave directly or by remote implication any special authority to the bishops thereafter to

[1] Php 4:13. be appointed in the Church, or conferred special grace, or intended that special grace should be conferred, by the sacraments of Baptism and the Lord’s Supper, or made either of them means of conveying supernatural grace, except in so far as they became the expressions of a mood or spirit of mind receptive of grace. I do not believe in the perpetuity of a priesthood, or an altar, or the kind of sacrificial system which a priesthood and an altar seem to typify. And yet it is impossible for any student of current events to doubt that the High Church party in the Anglican Church is really exerting a notable spiritual influence in England; that it is attracting in many cases large congregations to before sparsely attended churches; that it is felt as a power in many hearts and homes. To think that this is because Protestant England is going back to its old-time allegiance to the Pope of Rome, or because a generation which has departed in its social standards from the severer simplicity of Puritan England wants elaborate ritualism in its churches, or because it is easier to conduct an orderly ritual than to preach a tolerable sermon, and easier to go through the first without attention than to give attention to the second, is to misread the signs of the times, and, in judging a movement, to estimate it by the mere incidents which happen to accompany it and not by the essential spirit which characterizes it. The distinctive characteristic of the High Church party is its sacerdotal spirit; 1 its exaltation of the priesthood and the altar; its conversion of the memorial supper into a bloodless sacrifice of the mass; and its use of priesthood, altar, and mass to emphasize the right of the priest to declare authoritatively the absolution and remission of sins. It is because the High Church priesthood assume power on earth to forgive sins, and so to relieve men and women of the first of the two burdens of which I have spoken, that it has its power over the hearts of its adherents. It is for this reason, also, that its power is mainly seen among women. Women’s morbid consciences make them susceptible to painful and sometimes needless regrets, and a church which offers to remove this burden of the past appeals to them more than it does to men, who are more inclined to let the dead bury their dead, and ask for a religion which will help them to a better future. High Church theology has no special efficacy in equipping the soul for the future, and it has, therefore, no special attraction for virile men. But so long as men and women feel the burden of the irreparable past, so long they will come to that church, and only to that church, which declares with authority that the past is forgiven; and they will not always be critical in inquiring whether all 1 It has also been characterized by notable missionary and philanthropic activity. But this is not distinctive of the High Church party; it belongs to the age, and is seen in every denomination within the Church and in some organizations wholly unecclesiastical. the grounds on which that authority is claimed can stand historical investigation. At the other extreme, ecclesiastically, are the evangelists of our time, chief among them all, and type of them all, the late Dwight L. Moody. If I speak of him peculiarly, it is because he affords so striking an illustration of the principle which I wish to elucidate. Mr. Moody belonged to a denomination which discards all notion of the priesthood, whose ministry are only laymen performing a special function in a church without orders. In this church he never had such ordination as is generally required of those who desire to exercise ministerial functions. His services were accompanied neither by Baptism nor by the Lord’s Supper. He believed that the latter was a memorial service, not a bloodless sacrifice; that any Christian, whether lay or clerical, was equally a priest; to him the Church was a meeting-house and the altar a communion table or table of meeting; and most of his services were held in unconsecrated halls. But never did a High Church priest of the Anglican Church believe more profoundly that to him had been given authority to promise the absolution and remission of sins, than did Mr. Moody believe that he possessed such authority. Rarely, if ever, did priest, Anglican or Catholic, hear more vital confessions or pronounce absolution with greater assurance. The High Churchman thinks that he derives such power through a long ecclesiastical line; Mr. Moody believed that he derived it through the declarations of the Bible; but both in the last analysis obtained it by their faith in " one Lord Jesus Christ. Who for us men, and for our salvation came down from heaven." The one no less than the other spoke, or claimed to speak, by authority; both derived their authority from the same great historic fact; and the attractive power which drew unnumbered thousands to the preaching of Mr. Moody was in its essence the same as that which draws unnumbered thousands to the Altar and the Eucharist. This is the function of the Christian ministry, not to administer charity, but to inspire in the community the spirit of charity; not to counsel wise political policies, but to inspire in government the spirit of justice; not to instruct the intellect, but to fashion the affections and the will; and this it is to do by imparting to men peace from the burden of the past and power for the duties of the present and the future. If the Christian ministry is to do this work it must be itself inspired by such a perception of the Infinite in the life, character, and post-resurrection work of Jesus Christ as is able to promote in men Christlikeness of character. If this perception is wanting in the ministry, the ministry will be without power. If we of the so-called liberal faith hope to retain in these more liberal days the attractive power of the Church, we can do it only by holding fast to the great historic facts of the birth, life, passion, and death of Jesus Christ essentially as they are narrated in the Four Gospels, and to the great spiritual fact that in the God whom Christ has revealed to us there is abundant forgiveness for all the past, and abundant life for all the future. And this we must declare, not as a theological opinion, to be defended by philosophical arguments as a rational hypothesis, but as an assured fact, historically certified by the life and death of Jesus Christ, and confirmed out of the mouth of many witnesses by the experience of Christ’s disciples and followers in all churches and in every age.

If we fail to do this, men will desert our ministry for Romanism, Anglicanism, and Evangelism, or, in despair of spiritual life in any quarter, will desert all that ministers to the higher life, and live a wholly material life, alternating between restless, unsatisfied desire and stolid self-content. And the fault and the folly will be ours more even than theirs.

If the Church is to give this message of peace and power it must give it with authority. Whence does it derive this authority? and how is this author*ity attested?