Back to Holy church : experiences and knowledge acquired by a convert

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Contents

Frontispiece.

PAGE PREFACE, / , : ° : 5 ; . : 5 Vv EDITOR’S INTRODUCTION . : - ‘ ‘ ore Lk CHAPTER I. How I Came Back To Hoty CHuRCH . 4 : ° I II]. THE Rock ON WHICH THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IS BUILT. 37 Ill. THe NurTuRING POWER OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH se Ge IV. Love In THE CATHOLIC CHURCH ; ; ‘ : Ya Qe V. LIBERTY IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. . . d Pepe Ay

VI. THE HosTILiTy AGAINST THE CATHOLIC CHURCH . . 246

Chapter I. How I Came Back To Holy Church

WHEN a man has taken animportant step, in a new direction, which affects the future course of his life, he will ask himself, perhaps repeatedly, whether what he has done was right or wrong, wise or foolish. He will weigh and consider all possible inward and outward consequences which may arise from it.

It has not been so with me. After I had once accepted the Catholic Faith—certainly a turning-point of the greatest importance—such thoughts never entered my mind. Any worldly or practical considerations could, of course, not influence me; and conscientious doubts of mind were also entirely absent. This was so because I was absolutely convinced that I had chosen the only possible path open to me. It would not have been in my power to proceed in any other direction. The only alternative would have been to avoid altogether the mental exercise of scientific work and to leave off occupying my mind with the study of religious matters. Then I should presumably have remained at rest, and the motive power inherent in the

Catholic Faith would not have gripped me; because I the point of attack from which my inner change proceeded, lay in my scientific reasoning faculties. The emotions only came into play afterwards, assisting the forward movement, and then it was no longer in my power to determine the direction of the way.

Though I continued for a long time to move with the current of my old accustomed conceptions, the Truth drew me with the power of a whirlpool, more and more compellingly, until I was engulfed by it. The astonishing partis not that the Truth laid hold on me, but that in spite of my inclination towards it, I kept apart from it so long. This shows how erroneous it is to say that I furthered or desired the final decision. It is not the question whether I acted rightly in embracing the Catholic Faith ; it is at most a question whether I followed the Zruth, or succumbed to a particularly enticing error.

I was brought up in the strictly orthodox Protestant Faith, but in spite of this subsequently passed through all the phases of thought usual for an independent youthful mind. I began by doubting the teachings inculcated during childhood; then I was assailed by a succession of materialistic, pantheistic, modernistic thoughts; but beneath them all I retained an under-current of real positive faith and participated, habitually and not insincerely, in devotional practices.

On the whole a positive faith was most congenial to me, with the result that I always defended it (often with great spirit), whenever it was attacked. I also had periods of greatly intensified religious feeling, inclining even then to the Catholic form of worship— instanced by my great interest in Dante’s ‘ Divina Commedia,” and by a poetical attempt of mine on the same lines. Animosity against the Catholic Church was most distasteful to me, though I remained convinced that grave errors were embodied in her. At that time I was unable to understand her teaching, because, not having a firm conviction of the main Christian truths, I lacked the proper foundation.

It was in a very curious way that I gained this firm conviction, so entirely different from the former belief which I had accepted merely on authority. I was in the habit of reading liberal theological books, whenever they came to my notice, and of occupying myself sometimes with the study of larger works of this kind ; therefore, though not accepting everything, I gradually drifted into this channel of thought. In the summer of 1901 I read Harnack’s “‘ The Nature of Christianity ”. In this book I was struck chiefly by the author’s sublime conception of the Person of Jesus Christ. This leader of the “liberal” theologians, this penetrating, exact man of research, attributed to our Lord a nature, a character, and an importance, which far transcended all earthly stature.

“One ray of His light changes the inner life of man” (page 1); ‘‘His Gospel cannot be replaced by anything else” (page 3); _ ‘‘ And is capable of broad and deep development” (page 7); “ His Gospel

1“ Wesen des Christenthums’’. % I stands above all controversies of that time, yea, of all time” (page 11); ‘“ He has done many wonderful deeds, which are partly inexplicable to'this day ” (page 19); ‘‘ Without scientific teaching, without inner struggles He has displayed a mighty original teaching power, and poured forth truths in abundance solely from His own rich mind” (page 21); “ With perfect peace of mind He lived and breathed in a Religion, the inner kernel of which He had Himself created, and His feelings and thoughts existed in constant relation to God” (page 22); “In liberty and serenity of soul He surpassed all the prophets” (page 23); ‘‘ His sermons always exhausted the main thought and yet let it appear inexhaustible. They have lost nothing of their freshness during the centuries” (page 33); ‘The personality of Christ is and remains the only foundation of all moral culture” (page 78).!

Considering that all these utterances (the contents of which I have quoted as concisely as possible), proceed from a scientist who desires Jesus Christ to be regarded only as man, I could surely take it for granted that they described Him in a light, not more favourable than strict science absolutely demands, and that they contain only the minimum of those eminent qualities which must be conceded to our Lord.

1 The following sentence was spoken by Professor Harnack at the recent World’s Congress for Religious Liberty, held in Berlin in the current year: following an assertion of the mere humanity of Jesus Christ: “It is an assured fact that God made this same Jesus to be the

Lord and Christ for mankind; and that faith in Him has always produced children of God, and produces them still”. [Ed.]

These utterances represented a superhuman personality, free from all earthly weakness, rich in sublime virtues, unsurpassed in importance; then is it not unavoidable to explain the appearance of such a personality in the world as a miracle of the highest order, a direct mission from God?

This conviction, which quite overwhelmed me, could not fail to lead me to the Faith of the Church, to the Apostles’ Creed.

From this one fixed standpoint all other deductions of Professor Harnack’s book, so far as they contradicted the old Faith, were overthrown. The teaching about the Person of Christ consumed, so to say, all the rest of Harnack’s teachings. It appeared to me absolutely impossible to accept the position that the gospel preached by the miraculous man Jesus, drawing to itself the noblest forces of many epochs, could have developed into a doctrinal system, untrue in its inner kernel, which yet could have poured forth rich blessings.

How could truth combine with untruth, how could the sublimest moral teaching combine with untenable doctrines, to form a healthy organism? The divine revelation of Christ ought either to have warded off powerfully such arbitrary human additions; or, stifled by them, have disappeared from the world. It was impossible that out of the revelation of Christ such doctrines as His filial relation to God, the Resurrection, the Eternal Life, the Trinity, and many other dogmas, could have been developed, had not their germ been contained in that revelation, or had they not rested on irrefutable facts.

The impossibility of my keeping aloof from such reasoning, now, once for all, severed me from theological liberalism such as that of Professor Harnack. As it now appeared absurd to construct a religion for myself out of the knowledge I had acquired, my choice lay between, on the one side, that advanced liberal thought which denies to our Lord and His Gospel even the qualities that Harnack acknowledges, and, on the other, the acceptance of an orthodox (positive) faith. The former way was so repugnant to my scientific feelings that I rejected it unconditionally. Consequently, with a conviction never before attained by me, I selected and took up the orthodox (positive) standpoint. I cannot say that I was clearly conscious of the inner transformation, as I have described it. It was only later that I recognized its different phases. At the time I felt a sudden change taking place within me, a change from seeking, doubting, and erring to a well-founded faith. I wished to believe, because everything else appeared to me untenable; and therefore I did believe. I accepted as invincible truths the fundamental teachings of Christianity—of orthodox (positive) Protestant Christianity, as well as of Catholic Christianity.

From that moment I felt the blessings arising therefrom in a manner hitherto neither imagined nor expected. I was filled with a joy and happiness such as worldly successes had never given me. The divine word of the Apocalypse: “ Behold I make all things new, seemed to be realized; everything about me— Nature, Life, and Mankind—became actually radiant with a new and a distinctive light. Many things which I had formerly considered devoid of all inner meaning became precious, and a spring of pure joy; while others, which I had considered necessary or desirable, sank downjinto nothingness. Purity, holiness, association with God were henceforth my standard of value, even for earthly things. These precious experiences, which I would rather not enlarge upon, convinced not only my reason, but also my innermost soul that, in order to acquire peace of mind, true happiness, and a sure judgment in all the difficulties of life, it is necessary to accept the dogmatic Truths; that furthermore, such faith includes the striving after moral perfection and that true morality cannot be obtained without it.

I did not shrink from putting the newly acquired truths to every possible test. I still continued to read liberal theological literature, but I can say that I never doubted again; the weak points in their arguments were at once apparent to me, without my having to search forthem. For further instruction I now studied several works of orthodox tendency, and was deeply impressed by those of Bernhard Weiss, through which I recognized the fact that so-called exact science must surrender before the fundamental Truths of the Church, not only because Science is unable to refute them, but also because the results of scientific research cannot fail considerably to strengthen religious Truths, provided always that Science does not primarily deny the possibility of divine interference and does not on principle exclude miracles.

Thus far I had come. I possessed real Christian Faith, I had embraced the Christian Truths and believed to have found zhe Truth, the whole Truth. I now endeavoured to draw all my conclusions from it and to arrange my whole life in accordance with it. But when I attempted to satisfy my longing for a warm and continual worship of God I suffered many a disappointment. That my frequent going to my Protestant Church was criticized and even strongly censured, did not surprise me so much. Anyone who is not himself a believer, would naturally think it strange, especially in a man of science. But what puzzled me was, that even pious Protestants thought I was over-doing it, and that they were inclined to agree with my critics. I felt as if they wanted, with regard to my devotional practices, to fix a limit, to exceed which was considered bad form. This feeling was strengthened by my noticing that even strict church people avoided speaking about religious matters as if out of place amidst everyday work. Of course they wished to hear religion from the pulpit on Sundays, but in everyday intercourse it was considered an affectation—with the exception, perhaps, of purely academic theological points. Even in one’s private correspondence, religious remarks and advice or any lively expressions of faith were disliked. I was not actually told this, but I felt it clearly.

I also felt the want of opportunity for frequent church-going. The Protestant churches in Germany remained closed except for the services on Sundays and Festival days. The Bible classes savoured too much of school-teaching and were soon removed from the churches. There were few other opportunities for worship and even here it was the instruction and the sermon—for which I felt the least need—which prevailed on all occasions. Not that I disdained the sermon. I warmly appreciated the discourses of our remarkably able and truly pious ministers. But that was not enough. I thirsted for united prayer and united worship in a beautiful and solemn ritual; and of this there was far too little (compared with the pulpit teaching), to satisfy my desire.

And even concerning the Lutheran Liturgy, which to me was the chief part of the service, | had a dim feeling that it lacked the inner kernel of divine worship. After all, it contained only arbitrarily collected prayers and Bible lessons, which, though singly of the highest value, had, in their combination, no special significance. The Liturgy seemed a kind of imitation, but I could not discover what it was meant to replace. I often envied the Catholics their richly appointed form of worship, especially the daily early Mass, which I sometimes attended when I travelled abroad. But to adopt the Catholic faith, seemed an impossibility, because from my early youth I had been taught to look upon it with the utmost disfavour.

It is true that the Protestant Church offers something more than sermons and the Liturgy. She administers the Sacraments—Baptism and Holy Communion. But, speaking quite candidly, I was never able to grasp from the Protestant teaching the meaning and purpose of these rites, though I tried sincerely to do so; and though I had the desire to believe. Especially, the Holy Communion absolutely seemed incapable of rising above the standpoint of a pious act of remembrance, which laid the foundation of no closer connexion with Christ than did daily prayer. There was, it is true, greater devoutness, and therefore a greater blessing might be effected in connexion with the sacrament; but I saw no pledge in it for special or extraordinary gifts of Grace. All explanations in theological Protestant books appeared to me to be ingenious, clever utterances without palpable reality, and with no solidity in their foundations.

Everything considered, however, I had gained a very great deal. I possessed the faith enshrined in the Apostles’ Creed. I felt the blessing flowing from my endeavours to live a Christian and a moral life; I felt how my love to the Teacher of such a life—Jesus Christ—increased, and how by this love my faith in its turn was—strengthened.

I now possessed a lodestar to guide me in the ordering of my life; for henceforth it was meant to be lived to the glory of God and not for the furtherance of merely selfish interests. To carry out this intention, I should have to strain every nerve, regardless of personal consequences. I felt strong to bear the buffets of fate, and when these actually befell me I never despaired. I knew that out of these terrible bereavements there would arise for me tasks which I had to face; that I had to turn away from my sorrows and strive with all my strength to fulfil those tasks. To pray for the dead and the living, to comfort, to set an example, to strengthen the faith of others, these were my first duties. These endeavours strengthened me so much that my grief, though not lessened, was overcome. (My turning towards the Catholic Church, however, was not caused by the loss of some of my children as has been supposed. Such suppositions are entirely erroneous.)

In spite of the immense enrichment of my religious life, there was still a void, and a great void ; I was not satisfied. Why not? That the Protestant form of worship did not satisfy me, lay perhaps in my own individuality and was therefore easy to bear. The Church cannot study every one. If people looked askance at me on account of too frequent churchgoing, or so-called bigotry, it was not my place to complain of such trifles. Other circumstances made their appearance which were far more weighty. I had the feeling sometimes that my Protestant Faith ought to be quite sufficient to lead me to salvation. It was firmly grounded and in the main part in harmony with Protestant Church doctrine. In every doubt, I came after careful reflection to the decision that what I believed must be true, because this well-constructed edifice, under whose roof it seemed so good to dwell,

12 BACK TO HOLY CHURCH which stood firm even against Science, could not possibly be a phantom. Yet I felt uneasy, just because reflection was needed to obtain steadfastness. My faith was and remained in substance a reasoning faith, lacking spontaneous reality. Sometimes in my professional historical researches I succeeded in making surprising discoveries which I felt could only be attributed to divine assistance, but here also it was only by reasoning’ that my faith was strengthened through such experiences. Holy Communion derived its value and effect only from my contemplative reasoning about its relation to Jesus. The fact that the Communion, and even all liturgical services, were invariably accompanied by sermons, showed clearly the preponderance of reasoning in the Protestant Church. For a well-educated man like myself this might have sufficed (though as a matter of fact it did not). But could it be admissible to build up the faith of the uncivilized nations, on an ererczse of reason which they were not, and might never be, able to practise? Should the blessings of Religion be dependent on such labour of reasoning alone? Should they all be deprived of true conviction and of divine blessings until they could be taught to understand fully their purpose and their inner meaning? This seemed to me undeniably a grave shortcoming in the Protestant Church. And, eranted that the people could be brought to an adequate understanding, would they be protected against the influence of heretical teachers, of free-thinking theologians? It would be impossible to keep such influences away from them permanently, and how could they, with their incomplete learning, be expected to find the difficult path over which I had had to struggle so painfully? How could their own insight enable them to hold fast or to regain the blessings of Faith? The persuasive oratory of their clergymen could not be an impregnable bulwark, because the free-thinkers would oppose them with equally persuasive eloquence.

If all men had not the same possibilities of acquiring and upholding the real steadfast Faith, resting on the Apostolic Symbol, Zow then could I be satisfied with my Faith? I\f I personally could be satisfied, then true Christian Love was not within me, and in that case my Faith was worthless! I could not find my way out of this labyrinth.

Of course the Protestant Church was quite capable of bringing many blessings to the unlearned also—such blessings which depend but little on faith in dogmas. If a man lived a moral Christian life and attended Church regularly, his conscience was at rest; if he attended Holy Communion and other solemn rites he was edified, moved, and lifted up. Very many educated people satisfy their religious wants with nothing more than this, and there exists accordingly a section in the Protestant Church, which advocates the principle of leaving aside all theological controversies and of making the “cure of souls” the primary consideration. But is a Christianity worthy of its name, which leaves aside all teaching about the future life, which gives no real outlook on comfort, bliss, or punishment? We might just as well be content with mere philosophical paganism, itself perfectly capable of inducing moral development in its followers.

It made me very uneasy, then, that in the Church to which I belonged all blessings were solely dependent on the zeaching, and on the degree of education acquired by each individual, and I considered this to be decidedly a serious fault. In order to deal effectively with it, the first necessity was that genuine apostolic teaching should be ensured to all congregations, so that free-thinking views, incompatible with true Christianity, could be kept in check. But how was this to be enforced? The Protestant congregations consisted, especially in towns, not of believers only (as in the days of the first Christians, the first Calvinists or Presbyterians), but just as much of indifferent or even hostile Church members who favoured every step towards free-thinking. There was no relying on the initiative of such congregations ; they were like quicksand, on which it was impossible to build. The governing bodies of the Protestant Church, though they had the power to suppress all false doctrine and to keep away every unbelieving or free-thinking preacher, did not exercise their powers with energy; the pressure of the unorthodox University professors and of the free-thinking party was too strong. Therefore even the Protestant Church Councils afforded but a weak support to orthodox teaching and faith; and the hostile attacks threatened to overthrow it altogether. The paramount influence in the congregations lay with the majority of the members, and these were naturally, as just explained, not true believers.

Unbelief did not however exercise its full power as yet; through sheer indifference things were allowed to go on as heretofore, so that outwardly the orthodox minority retained the lead; in reality, however, their position was weak and could hardly withstand the constant attacks made upon it, for the zzzward power of orthodox Protestantism had much decreased through the many doubts which had arisen in otherwise faithful hearts.

For all that I did not relinquish courage. By finding the origin of the danger, it might be possible to fight against it successfully at its source. It was Science which had raised the dangerous doubts, for, true to her nature, she has to probe all things without prejudice—even religious questions—and has to dissect and appraise even the Bible, just like every ordinary source of information. In the first frenzy of such free research many things had been cast aside because the sound foundation on which they rested was not at once understood ; a religious radicalism with its denial of dogma had grown up in consequence. Why, I reasoned, should not honest scientific research find its way back to the Truth and establish the correctness of the Christian doctrine? If that could be done, then Faith had not only held the fort, but had gained an unassailable position. Then it would be supported by the whole phalanx of theologians. Their influence would lead back to the Faith all those who had not absolutely surrendered to modern paganism. Then the free-thinking movement in Theology would have been only a passing error, which would even have helped to solidify afresh the foundation of Faith.

But, alas! even this hope proved unjustifiable, because it rested on a wrong supposition. Hazth can certainly be reinstated by Science, but only by such Science which takes tts stand on the fact of Revelation and proceeds to prove from that point the soundness of its position, by the harmony of all incidents and circumstances relating thereto. Sudbmissiton—childlike and humble— zs essential. Such childlike submission being, however, a rare quality among the learned men of to-day, it was more likely that the majority would continue to work with mere worldly arguments and thus never reach a positive faith. Under these circumstances, therefore, an agreement on controversial religious questions could never be reached. Possibly the orthodox party would recover some ground by working carefully and with circumspection, but they could never attain supreme control.

What then was to be done? A high dignitary of the Protestant Church once said to me: We must be pliable, the dogmas have to be softened, so to say, in order that weak Christians be not repelled! I answered that on the contrary, the greatest rigidity was needed, that the dogmas could not be upheld too firmly, however many might apostatize: and that, though only a few were to remain faithful, these few could go out into the world and, like the Apostles, build up the Church afresh. My opinion was that the orthodox church members should gather closely round the Apostolic Belief and uphold the true Church, whether small or large; or that, if need be, they should establish her afresh. I demanded a complete severance from the free-thinkers.

It was a desperate and a fruitless thought. The new Protestant orthodox Church, like the old, would have had no unshakable rock for her support ; and even as the old she would yet have contained the seed of decay. I had considered all possibilities, there remained nothing but to hope for a miracle of God, which would render back to His Church her old vitality and power. For the moment, however, things were not quite so desperate. Inthe great majority of Churches positive doctrine was still preached and the Protestant ecclesiastical authorities, officially at any rate, remained at the same standpoint. It was only the congregations that left so much to be desired.

I might now have let the matter rest here, though with a heavy heart; I might have thought merely that so far God’s Providence for the stability of His Church seemed to have been very deficient, had not for a long time past another development been at work within me—had not already the conviction dawned upon me that the miracle, which I expected from the future, had actually been wrought nineteen hundred years before

My views as a Christian had always been what are called “broad” ; denominational differences had never 2 appeared important to me; I confessed the Apostles’ Creed and accepted the consequences which appeared to arise from it. This position harmonized on the whole with the preaching in the Protestant churches. I was just a Christian, and, being unable to accept the specific Catholic Faith, I reckoned myself a Protestant. But there never had been a real bond between me and any one of the Protestant churches ; for example, I was equally edified whether I attended the Reformed, Lutheran, or Anglican services; and when I visited the Roman Catholic Church it was only my ignorance of the ritual and practice, and my fear of being conspicuous, that hindered me from joining in the services as warmly as I should have wished. I never had party feeling in religious matters, and never cared for denominational controversy. Jesus Christ was everything to me, and I approved of whatever led me nearer to Him, irrespective of the community where I found it. Years ago I had expressed my desire to belong to that Church in which Jesus Christ was most highly revered. ‘This now began to seem to me to be the Catholic Church, because there not only was He Himself honoured, but also all those whom He loved ; and even any material thing, which could claim connexion with Him, was highly valued.

If only the Catholic doctrine had not contained so many articles of faith which I could not accept: the papal infallibility, the adoration (!) of the Mother Mary and the Saints, Transubstantiation, Celibacy, Indulgences, the limitation of free research and the rest. I quite overlooked the fact that I knew all these only from Protestant representations of them; that I never had read Catholic literature, and therefore had never approached the true source. On the other hand many things in the Catholic Church were very congenial to me, the hierarchical order, the sanctity of the places of worship and the splendour of the service so well according with the sacred act, the frequency and variety of religious exercises. Among the dogmas, the teaching about the future life especially appealed to me, and J read once more the deep and grand exposition of it in Dante’s “ Divina Commedia” with more insight and satisfaction than ever.

How trivial did the frequent Protestant pulpit attacks on Catholicism appear—the blame, for instance, thrown on the pomp displayed by the Pope as compared with the humble figure of Christ! Such outward display surely does not represent the inner sentiment. The splendour is employed, where it is considered seemly and of service to the sacred occasion, but is omitted when considered out of place. Beneath the Tiara the crown of thorns may well be hidden.

The first decisive breach into my inherited religious standpoint was made, when I came to the conviction that a teaching power of supreme authority was absolutely necessary, a power independent of the State, as well as of the currents of popular opinion. The confusion which reigns in the Protestant churches in all matters of faith, obliterating as it does the boundaries between Christianity and Paganism, showed me 2 *

20 BACK TO, HOLVIGCHURGH that the great Christian Truths must be protected and safeguarded by a stronghold unassailable by any influences of free-thinking. This stronghold of defence, if at all in existence, could only be the Papacy. The protection of the Faith being a traditional duty of the Pope, each occupant of the Holy See feels the innate impulse to further it. At the nomination of the Cardinals the same impulse is at work with decisive effect, and likewise at each papal election; and it is therefore hardly possible that an unorthodox Cardinal could receive the Tiara. And even if it should happen, he would be so tied by tradition and surroundings that he could do no lasting harm. Therefore what could be given in the way of guarantees, was given here. Better even than in certain ecclesiastical councils where it might easily happen (as in former centuries) that under worldly influence some unwholesome doctrine might find a majority, where even (as in the fifteenth century in Basle), democratic influences had been allowed to find utterance.