Religious education in the church

Contents

CHAPTER PAGE

I. The Problem of Adjustment ...... 1

The questions facing the church. An age of institutional specialization. The significance of present-day criticism. The diflaculties of adjustment. New adjustments. Local situations. Effects of economic changes. Competition and duplication among social agencies.

Chapter I The Problem Of Adjustment

A FEW years ago there appeared a striking essay entitled "Heckling the Church." It called attention to the fact that every person felt fully qualified to sit in judgment on the chui'ch, and to exercise freely his gifts of criticism in this direction. Captious criticism is annoying, but, for the church it is better to be annoyed than to be ignored. If the latter should come to pass the case would be serious indeed. The emphasis of several generations on the primacy of material things has led to the popular assumption that we do not need spiritual institutions. Now we have a renaissance of the spiritual, under the stress of a world agony. But there is a tendency to feel that the spiritual is so implicit in all things that it does not need explicit expression anywhere. Men ask whether a spiritual age needs a special religious institution. Further, various social agencies have taken over many of the activities of the churches. Men are asking whether in the social organization of to-day there remains any special task or place for the church.

These are the questions the present-day church must face. They are not essentially hostile questions. They are expressed by persons of serious minds. They rise within the church rather than without. They are not the questionings of an anti-religious spirit. They come from those with whom religion is taken for granted as a factor in life. The religious institution is not taken for granted. The questions take most serious form under present-day economic pressure. They usually have as a background this inquiry: Precisely where does this special rehgious institution fit into the scheme of things to-day?

The world is not indifferent to religion; it is becoming more conscious of its spiritual needs. There is almost a religious devotion in the principal charge against the church, that "it is not on to its job." This seems to mean not alone that it is inefficient, but that it does not perceive its task. That is the heart of the problem, the lack of a sufficiently clear, distinct, and definite function, one that will meet a need otherwise unmet, one that will convince the minds,, enlist the wills, and win the hearts of all men and women of spiritual perceptions.

The problem of adjustment faces every great social institution. This is the case because society is ever changing in its development, and institutions change and develop also. For instance, the place of the public school is fairly well settled, yet there remain some areas of responsibility in dispute between the school and the family, and, in some countries, large areas in dispute between the schools and the churches.

The problem is intensified for the church, on the one hand, by the fact that this is an age of institutional specialization, and, on the other, by the power of tradition in a religious institution. The age demands that the church accept a clearly defined field and become responsible for this alone. It demands that the task of the church be adjusted to the tasks of other agencies. To do this involves an analysis of

LEARNING FROM THE CRITICS 3

responsibilities, a study of the special powers and aptitudes of the church, and a selection of essential tasks. It means change, and change is difficult in proportion to the age and influence of an institution. The church has to struggle against its own institutional crystallization. A host of inherited activities, bound by the ties of tradition and sentiment, so engross the energies, bewilder the mind, and obscure the vision that there are many who are wholly lacking in any clear concepts of the essential nature of the institution, of the work it has to do, and of why it should be done. The result is erratic effort, confused thought, and that uncertainty of mind which undermines conviction, and results in a half-hearted allegiance within and a wholehearted indifference without.

LEARNING FROM THE CRITICS

Critics rarely acquire the grace of constructive criticism; no one tarries long enough to state what the work of a church really is or ought to be. We are told that the churches fail to relieve poverty; they are helpless before social oppression and injustice; their message is archaic; their methods obsolete; their metier gone; they do not preach the gospel; they preach only the gospel; they do not teach politics, amuse the young, teach sex hygiene, solve the trust problem, clean the civic stables, solve international difficulties, or settle the so-called social problem. The things they leave undone are legion. Often the very persons who demand that the church define its social field and maintain the fences thereof are the ones who, when any moral problem perplexes society, turn to the church and say: "You do it."

Perhaps modern criticism, coupled with high expectations, is a compliment to the church as a recognition of her courage and power. It clearly indicates the changed world-conception of the place of the church; she is no longer a "little garden walled around"; she is out in the hurried, tossing stream of human affairs. The question is, whether she has any particular business there. It is frequently assumed that she is incompetent for the great tasks popularly assigned to her.

But popular criticism is careless and often unfair. By what process of reasoning are we justified in blaming the churches because there are thousands of hungry men seeking work in the cities ? Might we not, with greater justice, blame the public schools where these men secured life training — such as it was? Or might we not blame the theatre, for instance ? True, the theatre has nothing directly to do with the situation, but it has the media for a message, and it withdraws much money which might employ thousands. The point is not that either the theatre or the church is blameworthy or otherwise, but that blame cannot be assigned until responsibilities are determined. We censure hastily because we do not stop to ask, precisely what is the social function of this institution? and we do not seek to determine its social relations and responsibility toward other institutions and toward each of our outstanding modern problems. Even such careless criticism helps, however, by suggesting the need for a careful study of the real task of the church.

We must not forget the criticisms and we can hardly question the sincerity of the large group of ecclesiastical aliens. These men and women are keenly open to spiritual values; they have the vision of the validity and value of the

THE STRESS OF READJUSTMENT 5

spiritual life; they think of all men as more than machines, and better than eating, talking animals. Many of those who criticise the church because it does not minister to the spiritual needs of men have come to its table and found only dishes, menus, cook-books, and disquisitions on dietetics. They are seriously concerned and deeply disappointed because often in their experiences churches have failed to think of people as persons, and failed in the unique task of stimulating and developing people as religious beings. These critics are essentially religious people, but they are outside of the churches because their very religious life came near to being choked in its dry and dusty clouds of theological argumentation. They found the spiritual dwarfed in an atmosphere of mean and petty striving after offices, social distinctions, and personal advantages, or forgotten in the excitement, the hustling and bustling of bizarre performances. To these people it seems as though there were two types of chtu'ches to-day; the one resembles a monastery into which men retire once a week to hear the mystic phrases of the past, and to consider those things the values of which are determined by their remoteness from life. The other type seems more like a noisy, dusty mill in which a hundred machines are whirling, and a thousand people hustling and shouting, now in the unison and abandon of a common feeling, and now in a pandemonium of conflict called competition; but no one can tell what it is all about, or show that it issues in aught but noise and numbers.

THE STRESS OF READJUSTMENT

The wise man welcomes all honest criticism. He tries to get the critic's point of view. He soothes any pain he may suffer by remembering the words about the wounds of a friend. The critic may be wrong in his conclusions, but he must be right in some of his premises. He bases his judgments on observation. To him it seems that the modern churches are engrossed in a distracting struggle for existence. Many of them appear to be willing to grasp at any straw in the flood, to accept any device for their own preservation. One scheme is tried after another. A nation-wide campaign, which depends for its success on advertising, is adopted to get men into churches. Another campaign is conducted, patterned on the "eat-an-apple" slogan and the "raisin-day" plans, to get people to go to church at least once a year. And then he sees the spectacle of churches outbidding one another for the leadership of "popular preachers" who are sometimes simply spectacular orators. Failing to keep pace with population growth, or even to hold their own by sensational topics for sermons* — all the sensation being usually in the label — or by denatured opera in choirs, they hope to win the world by slang, vaudeville antics, scurrilous abuse, and appeals to prejudice and ignorance. Is this our present-day faith in a gift of tongues — slangy, slanderous, and divorced from knowledge? If this is the dependence of the church, it is surely the last resort, the endeavor of despair.

This is as the critic sees the situation. Perhaps he fails to see that, except for those rare instances where single churches seem to have lost all consciousness of religion, these activities are largely endeavors to discover duties and

* A city in Missouri was plastered with posters announcing as the topic of the sermon at one of the churches, "Hot Stuff for Boys" (1916). Another advertised the topic, "Skidoo, Twenty-three."

SOCIAL CHANGES 7

secure adjustments in this day of change. They are essays, often crude and short-sighted, toward right relations and adjustments. Whether one approves or condemns, a little thought will enable him to recognize the phenomena of experimentation.

This is a period of adjustment for all social institutions. Just as men specialize more and more exactly in their professions, so society is specializing in its activities. The world does not expect any one institution to be proficient for all the tasks of to-day. It does demand that each one become really proficient in some special task, that it shall be fit to assume responsibility for that task. But who shall make the assignments ? No matter how wise this generation may be that question has to be settled largely by social selection, by the survival of the most useful and efficient. The result is that a period of adjustment is a period of struggle. There is much experimentation, some competition, some criticism, and constant adaptation.

SOCIAL CHANGES

That the church is engaged in a struggle for existence no one will question. Modern social life has ceased to take ^or granted the leadership of the church. The minister is no longer the "parson," pre-eminently the person of the community; the pulpit is no longer the community's intellectual fountain; the church gatherings no longer satisfy popular demands for social intercourse, and allegiance to the church is no longer the indispensable badge of respectability and the gauge of social credit.

Seen objectively, the situation in many communities presents the spectacle of the minister pathetically struggling to secure influence in community affairs, a small group endeavoring, by increasing sacrifice and effort, to secure financial support, tlie community growing more and more indifferent, the services of worship attended by decreasing numbers. We are assured that the situation is the same everywhere.* Neither the churches that represent religions of authority nor those that express the authority of religion have the place in the affairs of society that once they held. But do the empty pews or the losses in direct political influence tell all the story? Are they sufficient tests? Applied to the church of a century ago they would spell failure. To-day they indicate change, change in modes of influence and power, changes in methods of accomplishing the same purposes. They are symptomatic of adjustment. They may mark the failure of old ways; they indicate the need for new ways. Often the situation rises out of the attempt to put the new wine of this day's life and action into yesterday's bottles.

If the conditions briefly characterized above indicate failure in perfecting adjustments, there are no less striking evidences of serious efforts to effect proper relationships. Consider the changes in church edifices from the single room for worship to the extensive plant providing for classes, clubs, social life, lectures, recreation, consultation, and many forms of activity. Consider the changed curricula of theological seminaries as indicating changes in the minister's professional work. Consider the practical effects of the movement for social service, f Let the critic study the

* On the situation in England, see chap. II, The Church and The New Age, H. Carter, 1912.

t Consult A Year Book of the Church and Social Service, Harry F. Ward, published by Methodist Book Concern.

LOCAL adjust:ments 9

organized movement for community betterment in rm*al districts.* Think of what a really modern chm-ch means to a boy or a girl, and compare it with what your church meant to you in boyhood. Think of new methods in Sundayschools, new educational buildings, curricula, standards, and trained workers. Consider the special organizations for boys and girls. Think of the work of a modern church in relation to recreation as contrasted with its almost single duty as a messenger of warning or denunciation a generation ago. Consider the changes in ideals and methods as to foreign missions. These are but a few of the many changes in the past few decades. They are mentioned not as an inventory of successes, but as indications of endeavors to perfect adjustments. They are s;vTnptoms, precisely as significant as the failures and difficulties are.

LOCAL ADJUSTMENTS

One other complicating aspect of the problem of the present-day church must not be overlooked. Not only is the church as a whole in the stress of adjustment to rapidly changing social conditions, but each church is immediately concerned with adjustments to its own local situation. This generation has come to see how different is the ministry of the church in the city from that of the one in the open country, how the suburban type must differ from the downtown type, and how there may be as many different forms of ministry as there are t^^es of communities. It appears that there can be no uniform t}i)e even in a single commu-

* For example, see the numerous reports published by the Presbyterian Board of Home Missions; the list will be sent on application to the Board at 156 Fifth Avenue, New York City. See also the publications of the Missionary Education Movement.

nion. Just what any church will do will be determined, first, by the general programme and purpose of all churches, and, secondly, by what needs to be done in that particular community. Manifestly there exist remote and rural communities in which the church will conduct almost every form of social enterprise, or, at least, it will cause them to be conducted. There are also parts of cities where the services of the church will be almost as varied as the needs of the community. There are other parts of the city where the church, surrounded by many efficient agencies, will concentrate on a few forms of service. The wide varieties in local situations make this problem exceedingly intricate. The current attempts at its solution often confuse persons of limited observation. They criticise the city church because it is unlike the country church from which they came. If we are looking for uniformity we are sure to be disappointed in the modern church which seeks efficiency.

If our purpose were that of diagnosing the entire situation as to the churches, it would be necessary to point out in particular the far-reaching effects of economic changes. But, at least, we can keep in mind the general effects by considering the difference between the weekly programme, or routine, of the church-member to-day and the church-member of fifty years ago. The latter was a country — or village — dweller with much leisure; the former is under the pressure of the crowded city, under the strain of a packed programme. When Sunday comes, the modern man has endured about all of the intellectual strain he can stand. He has been in a crowd too long. He needs and longs for rest, for quiet, and, perhaps, for solitude. Even though we recognize the fallacy of the common argument for the golf

COMPETITION AND DUPLICATION 11

course as against the church, we must acknowledge that there are very large numbers who must fight inclination, ignore pressing needs, and incur greater nervous strain every time they go to churcli.

COMPETITION AND DUPLICATION

Frequently our modern efforts to make adjustments to the life of to-day seem to increase our difficulties by bringing the church into competition with other social agencies. Some duplications of activities are unavoidable; some always will exist; some are only a part of the process of discovering duties, but others are without excuse. In the stress of social adjustment the church will have to struggle for her field; it will not be found or held without effort. The church is not the only institution tending to pre-empt more than its share. But it must be confessed that not all the activities of the churches have been designed as serious attempts at social harmony and efficiency.

Many churches are in serious and often bitter competition with other social institutions. Some, as the Roman Catholic Church and certain synods of the Lutheran Churches, attempt the work of public schools, while many of all faiths conduct kindergartens during the week-days. A large number have definite programmes, with elaborate plants, for relief and philanthropic work, covering the ground of charity associations, settlements, hospitals, dispensaries, playgrounds, friendly benefit societies, and other similar agencies. Still others appear to be in active competition with the caterers to public amusement, their services are often degraded to the level of a vaudeville performance in the vain hope of attracting the passing crowd. Sometimes one hears a sermon by a popular preacher which scarcely differs at all from the monologue of the professional comedian. Others conduct week-day programmes of popular entertainments, dramatics, etc., and provide elaborate gymnasiums, playgrounds, restaurants, club-rooms. Others spend energy in organizing forms of secret societies and fraternal lodges. Indeed, scarcely any type of interest develops in modern life but that some church will adopt at least its mechanism in the hope that its attractive power will be maintained when transferred to the church. Here often lies the raison d'etre of many of these activities; they are adopted as magnets, not as forms of ministry. A church establishes a gymnasium not with the intent of benefiting boys so much as with the hope of "getting hold of the boys." The point of the criticism is not that these enterprises are improper for churches, but that they do not rise out of a clearly apprehended programme; they are extraneous and sporadic efforts to create interest, to get into the game that seems to go on so successfully outside the churches.

THE DEVELOPMENT OF SPECIALIZATION

Frequently there are historic causes for the duplication of activities and the apparent overlapping of fields. Many of the most useful institutions of modern life have developed from the forms of service which the church once rendered. The public schools are the development of the teaching activities of the churches; settlements and charity organizations have grown out of the direct ministry of the church for the poor and the needy; even popular amusements may be traced to the same sources, the miracle-plays, the

THE TESTING TIME 13

customs of village dances on the open space before the churches, of games and recreations in the church glebe, and, later, the influence of the "socials" organized by the churches. The splendid activities of the Young Men's Christian Associations and the Young Women's Christian Associations are the fruitage of the sincere efforts of churches to meet the physical, mental, and spiritual needs of youth. We can never afford to lose sight of the fact which history so patently records that the church has been the mother of almost all those forms of social service with which her work is to-day so often unfavorably contrasted.

But it is a part of the function of all worthy institutions to give birth to agencies which will ultimately deprive them of phases of tlieir earlier activities. It is an evidence of efficiency when an institution conducts so well one form of service that part of its organization develops into selfsupport and autonomy. The church ought not to talk about competition with social settlements, or with the Y. M. C. A.; it ought rather to be grateful that it has children grown to such stature and so efficient as to bring high credit on their parentage. However, the pertinent question arises. When the offspring take over all the duties and divide all the field among themselves, what remains to the parent institution? What, to-day, is the place of the church, in the social order ?

THE TESTING TIME

Have we come to a time when, because the earlier activities of the churches are now more efficiently carried on by other agencies, the church can pass properly out of existence, a rich historic memory, but no more ? That is much more

14 THE PROBLEM OF x\DJUSTMENT

than a philosophical question. Many return an affirmative answer. Many thousands, who have never given the matter any historical study, assert most emphatically that the "church has outworn its time of service," "outgrown its usefulness," "is a vestige only of the past." These all listen with indifference to the call of the churches; they meet its appeals for support with the charge of inefficiency and economic waste. Some are simply guilty of the very bigotry they usually denounce; but besides these there are seriousminded persons who are asking what right the churches have to the investment which society is asked to make in them.

In an increasing degree the economic test will be applied. The churches will be judged by the economic return they make to society for the investment made in them. The test is neither unfair nor illogical. Here is an institution which holds immensely valuable real estate, some of the best sites in a city, which asks for support in large sums, which withdraws from other occupations many professional workers and makes large drafts on the energies of many thousands of persons. With all this financial, personal, and temporal investment, what are the returns? On what grounds do we justify the investment? Is it simply in order that groups of people here and there shall continue to do in an amateur manner that which other agencies are doing with professional expertness? Is all this cost of life only that churches shall be supported to play at instruction, relief, social amusement, and recreation? Some aim, distinct, clearly apprehended, and commanding, will need to emerge, or society will not long justify the investment it is asked to make.

THE TESTING TIME 15

All this does not mean that we must immediately give up the old ship, saying that her cargo has been transferred to a flotilla of new craft. But it does mean that there must be a square facing of the question as to the precise function of the church in our day. She must cease to carry on traditional activities without regard to whether they are better done elsewhere or are needed at all; she must cease the attempt at winning popular support by a round of factitious activities; she must cease the attempt to manufacture convincing programmes without consideration of the value of the performances.

The Jack of all trades is out of date. The barber who -was also surgeon, physician, chiropodist, and nurse is no more. The teacher who taught all subjects now teaches none. The general merchant remains only in remote districts. Life is specialized. There is no longer need for the church to generalize in all good things, for there are other agencies and institutions much more efficient in some good things. She must specialize, must deliberately discover what is her specialty and then stick to it.

Carter, H., The Church mid the New Age (Hodder & Stoughton, 1912). Strayer, p. M., The ReconMrudion of the Church (Macmillan, 1915). Crooker, J. H., The Church of Tomorrow (Pilgi'im Press, 1911). Mathews, S., The Church and the Changing Order (Macmillan, 1907).

Chapter II What Is The Function Of The Church?

Efficiency depends on the answer. The grave criticism of the church is not that she is doing so httle, but that she is trying to do so many things, and doing few or none of them well. Perhaps it would be more exact to say that the church is attempting more duties than any single institution can discharge and often without a clear understanding of why many of them should be attempted. She lacks the clear consciousness of field and task which would indicate duties exactly.

We cannot answer the question as to function until we know the nature of a church. What is a church, not only historically but objectively as we see it to-day? One does not need to depend wholly on the genesis and history of the church in order to determine its task in the life of to-day. It may well be that the church of the first century had a function quite different from that of the modern church. The church at Ephesus, partially isolated, facing a heathen world ignorant of its philosophy and faith, would take up tasks wholly different from those facing the rich, powerful church in New York or London. The church in Foochow would have waiting opportunities different from either Ephesus or London. The church in Hornby, N. Y., will face rural situations differing widely from those of the scattered congregations of the first century. But, after all, there is an unvarying underlying principle for all, and all have certain common characteristics. No matter how

THE PERSONAL CLEW 17

churches may differ, each one is a group of people agreed on placing the religious values fii'st in life.* Wherever a church may be, whatever its policy and its creed, it is a society united by the concept of the Godlike possibilities of man. ^ A church '*" •> f^crouii r^ pp.rpr/i;s ass-dated and co-

:" ' , ' ;.^ie s. -v.* v.'! -^r: oi sp/ntual, values. This

does not precisely define a Christian Church; it is only a statement of its central ideal in simple, inclusive terms.

Now a church exists, not because there are programmes for its social activity, but, first of all, because people always will get together. The social instinct polarizes human beings, and it is most likely to draw them about the poles of their ideals. Given a sufficiently attractive personal and social ideal, the get-together instinct, or habit, will bring people around the ideal. That is what happens whenever a church is formed. In the Christian religion the ideals are essentially personal and social; the church is a group of persons polarized at the personal ideal of Jesus and the social ideals he taught. The most satisf^ang thing that can happen to any of us is to come along with others to a common consciousness of such commanding, elevating ideals. This is the basic justification of a church. The social unity of the Christian Church in the consciousness of the leadership of Christ and the endeavor to realize his character and ideal are values immeasurable and essential to all permanent human progress.

THE PERSONAL CLEW

A church consists of persons; its processes deal with persons; its product is personal. It is a social institution * See George A. Coe in Psychology of Religion, chap. VIII.

because it is a personal institution in the plural, and wherever you have real personality in the plural you have society. In the last analysis, when we have worked down through ritual, ordinances, services, creeds, and forms of activity, when we can see these as means and processes, the end and the product clearly appear as people. All seek a personal and, therefore, a social product.

The church exists to deal with persons, as rehgious persons, to the end that they may find in themselves, and as a social whole, fulness of life; as one has said, that men might become like God and this earth like heaven; as the apostles put it, that men might be saved, that the world might be saved; and as Jesus put it, that men might have life and that they might have it more abundantly. Here is the ultimate purpose of the church: Godlike men and women in a world of God's will. Here is the programme of the church: To reach all men in all their lives to the end that this purpose may be realized. Here is the process of the church with men : Developing in them this Godlike life according to the laws of that life.

Such a statement as this may seem to be very elementary, yet in how many instances would the application of the principle — that the church exists for the sake of people — work a complete revolution in church methods ! The principle in its simplicity needs to be stated frequently. By it we may test every enterprise and activity in the church. It puts life at the centre. It sets in present-da}^ terms Jesus' teaching on the primary place of personal values. It helps to clarify the message of the church on modern world-problems by the example of an institution definitely and consciously devoted to the democratic task of develop-