Episodes in clerical and parish life

Preface

HE main object of the present work is to

JL place in contrast several of the leading principles of the Anglo-Catholic or Anglo-American Church (commonly called " Protestant Episcopal "), with certain errors and misapprehensions very generally entertained concerning those principles. The advance of the Church in the United States and Territories, though rapid and full of promise, has been seriously retarded by obstructions arising from inherited prejudices, the unfavorable bias acquired under sectarian systems, and misconceptions of the^ Church's real origin and nature, and of the position which she occupies in regard to other religious bodies. Many of these popular errors have, unfortunately, found their way into the Church itself, and exercise more or less influence in determining the grade and force of pastoral teaching. They are removable only by a gradual acquisition of knowledge, and by that breadth and vigor of mind which are gained by breathing a Churchly atmosphere. Clerical life has thus a double aspect — the care of those born and bred within the fold of Christ, and the far iv

Preface.

harder task of giving form and symmetry to the minds of people daily flocking into the Church, but who, for lack of time, opportunity, or perhaps depth of interest, do not bring themselves into harmony with their Churchly surroundings.

In depicting, under various forms, the strifes naturally arising between adverse private opinion and the Church's teaching ; and the struggles often occurring in parish life between the faithful pastor and the uninstructed layman, preference has been given in several cases to the narrative form, in order to add interest to the discussion of principles and objections by associating them with personal characteristics, and with the incidents and scenery of ordinary life. Some of these chapters, however, are based on actual facts known to the writer, and suggestive of the special course of thought with which they are clothed. A few other chapters are inserted to throw light on sundry questions concerning which erroneous opinions are widely prevalent.

Only one article (" The Priest and the Neophyte ") has before appeared in print ; and it is here given, in a rewritten form, to illustrate a popular mistake concerning " conversion."

New York, October 12, 1886.

Contents

PAGE

Preface, iii

I. — An Independent Thinker, i

Chapter I. An Independent Thinker

HILE standing on a dock by the side of the

V V St. Lawrence River, on a bright summer day, I observed, not far off, an elderly man, whose downcast looks and abstracted air seemed quite out of harmony with the exciting scenery around. I soon recognized in him a fellow-townsman, who, like myself, was on a summer trip, when we thus accidentally came together. As he was not one of my parishioners, nor likely to become one so long as he was unfriendly to the Church, suspicious of the clergy, and by no means a model of temperance, I merely gave him a passing salutation as he drew nearer ; for I knew by experience that this would be safer than an attempt at conversation, which would be very certain to end in a wrangle.

It turned out, however, that I was not to make good my escape on these easy terms. He had a fancy, as I soon discovered, for a tilt on the spot with a clergyman ; and it is safe to say that, if selfconfidence could carry him through, he was admirably fitted for the occasion. Without regard for ceremony or waste of words he then stepped in front of me, and let loose his notions about things religious in a speech after the following fashion : " Parson, I drop in at your church sometimes because I like to hear the music. As to the preaching, I don't think I am any the worse for it, which is a good deal to say in these times. But, after all, if there is another w T orld (as you say) I think / know as muck about it as you do" It was a rough speech, to be sure, and not remarkable either for beauty or originality. But there was a touch of honesty about it which I was bound to respect ; for I knew that it exactly expressed its author's mind. And so I gave him the equally honest reply : " Possibly what you say is true. And possibly, also, you know much more about the other world than I do, if your sources of information are better than mine" This turn of things he did not expect; and as there was now nothing left to quarrel about, our exchange of ideas came to a very natural end, without much credit to its promoter or serious damage to myself.

I had long known this man, and it Avas not difficult to form a right estimate of one who valued his own opinions on religion at so high a rate that he gave expression to them on all occasions without the slightest reserve. His mind was naturally vigorous, and not wanting in clearness of discernment except on religious subjects. For want of early discipline and culture there was also a certain brusqueness or self-assertion in his manner, which proved

An Independent Thinker.

rather repellent than attractive, especially as it had led him into the habit of " speaking his mind " (as he called it) in bluff, unqualified, or sarcastic terms, which forbade any near approach to him in cool argument. I do not know how it came about, but so it was, that any reference to religious doctrine or principle seemed to provoke him and stir up his resentment, as if there lay concealed in every allusion to holy things some personal reflection which it was his duty to confront at once with becoming dignity. Whether it was conscience, or pride, or both together, or a sense of disgust at the popular methods of bringing men under religious influence without much regard for Christian ethics, which gave rise to this unfortunate irritability, it would not be easy to decide. It was an obstruction, at any rate, to all friendly intercourse with him on religious topics ; and all the worse when it led him to believe that a clergyman could have no other interest in him than the gaining of a proselyte or the renting of a pew.

There was doubtless another and more secret reason for the bad temper of my old neighbor, the distrustful 'tone of his judgment, his censoriousness, his illimitable self-esteem, and the asperity with which he was accustomed to set forth his sentiments regarding the Christian faith. Perhaps it may not be unfair to surmise that at the root of all this there was something wrong and disquieting in the spiritual part of his nature — something far worse than any fault of the mere intellect. A shadow was upon him which he had no power to remove, though it threatened to destroy all the light and joy of his life. The scepticism of an irreverent age had insensibly gained hold upon all the better part of his nature, obscuring his conscience, controlling his will, and playing sad work with his reason, judgment, and even his common-sense. An honest, truth-seeking doubter one can always respect, because we know that his difficulty is chiefly intellectual, and is open to correction. If he happens to be brought to a sudden halt before two diverging paths, we feel sure that he will hesitate only long enough to read his course from the guide-board, and will then proceed on the right path. But the confirmed sceptic would prefer to stumble along the other route — wrong though it may be — from mere opposition to established precedent. In so doing, however, he not only loses moral force, but becomes, so far, a slave to an illregulated liberty, and a blind worshipper of what he misnames " freedom." It is easy, therefore, to see which way human nature will be likely to lean, when a choice is to be made between the claims of Divine Truth and the charms of what is supposed to be free thought^ however much such thought may be cramped with fetters.

For, what is called " free thought " has so often betrayed itself by an overbearing and hostile prejudgment of the very subjects which it had promised to investigate impartially, that its conclusions — even

An Independent Thinker. 5 for this reason alone — can have no logical or doctrinal value whatever. The very terms, " free thought " and " free inquiry," have become, in ordinary usage, untruthful in their application, and misleading. They no longer describe that mental process which seeks truth alone at all risks, and admits no foregone conclusions to affect its verdict. The unbeliever would do well to remember that free inquiry, properly so called, is as old as the New Testament, with this distinction, however, that, under our Lord and His Apostles, it was serious and conservative, accepting all established facts, and reasoning with those facts in view ; while in modern times free inquiry has become irreverent, querulous, destructive, and averse to the binding power of all sacred facts and principles. Our Lord Himself encouraged such freedom of thought as deserves the name, and even censured those who would not 6 of their own selves judge what was right. 5 The Church also has, from the beginning, promoted free inquiry as legitimate and healthful, when guarded against perversion, and kept strictly within its own appropriate sphere. No one can read the ancient Apologists and Fathers, the history of the first four CEcumenical Councils, and the marvellous results of deep and penetrating thought displayed in the writings of the Churchmen of later times, without admiration of the grand achievements of this spirit of inquiry in the development, illustration, and defence of inspired truth. On this point a late writer remarks : " Where will be found a succession of nobler intellects, of profounder thinkers, of more learned scholars, of more elevated moralists, of more subtle philosophers, or more successful toilers after truth, than within the pale of the Church of Christ ? Freedom of thought, largeness of affection, nobility of character, and political freedom, have all been nursed beneath the shadow of dogma. ... So long as the Church has been faithful to her trust, and has taught no dogmas but what are contained in, or may be proved by, Holy Writ, she has ever proved herself the nursing-mother of free inquiry, religious liberty, and an ever-advancing civilization." *

' But these triumphs of free thought could never have been won, had not the activity and fervor of such thought been confined within the boundaries of its own proper province, instead of wasting its energy amid the fogs of conjecture and wild speculation. It is not absurd or unscientific to say that freedom must recognize and observe certain limitations ; for beyond these limits it degenerates into mere lawlessness, and ends too often in both moral and mental paralysis. Some light may be thrown on this by a simple glance at what we may every day see in the physical world. Nothing, for instance, seems more perfectly unrestricted than the freedom of a bird, as it traverses in all directions the

*"The Dogmatic Faith, by Rev. E. Garrett, M.A.," p. 24.

An Independent Thinker.

lower regions of the atmosphere. But there are higher regions, inaccessible to the strongest wing — regions where the inevitable death-chill threatens even the soaring ambition of the eagle. Our own natural powers and faculties also have limits ; and beyond or above those limits they cannot operate, unless by an accession of force from some external agency, i.e., from instruments, mechanical powers, supernatural aid, or Divine interference. The eye, by its native power, cannot discern the satellites of Saturn or the phases of Venus. The hand cannot raise a ponderous mass without aid from a source independent of itself. In like manner the human mind, however acute by nature and vigorous by dint of cultivation and exercise, is sure to find out at last the limit of its ability. It is not all-comprehensive, nor able to discover and grasp by its own powers that class of truths which relate to the invisible world, the purposes of God, the destiny of man, the origin of sin, the mystery of redemption, and the grave realities of a future life. Free inquiry concerning revealed truths is bounded and restricted by the measure of the inquirer s ability. This ability may be great or small ; but it can never rise above its own level, or dominate over truths which it had not even the power to discover. Man's wit, at the best, is no competent judge of Almighty wisdom. If human reason makes unnumbered mistakes — as it does — within its own realm, we may anticipate still worse mishaps and

Episodes in Clerical and Parish Life.

failures when it ventures to deal with the deep things of God.*

The grand error of modern free-thinkers lies in their oversight or denial of this simple fact. That there are truths of some sort which the limited reason of man is incompetent to discover and set forth, has been the belief of men in every age of the world. It is an opinion in which Jew and Christian, Mohammedan and heathen, coincide. And if, in the great universe around us, and in the designs of God, relative to the human race, any such truths exist which it is important to our happiness to know, revelation not only becomes a necessity, but from its very nature a law which demands our belief, because it is nothing less than a voice from heaven. The primary and only real questions, then, to which the honest doubter should apply himself at the outset, are these, viz.*: Whether a revelation has been made, and whether that revelation was confided to " the holy Catholic Church," and has been safely transmitted through that Church to our own times. Let

* u The subjects belonging to religion lie in their very nature beyond the reach of possible human discovery. In regard to the nature of God and His purposes toward mankind, the human reason has no data for argument. The thoughts of God can, in the nature of things, be known to God alone. The wildest fanaticism has never claimed the power of discovering by intuition the thoughts of man ; and its incapacity to discover the thoughts of God must be as much greater as, on the theory of Theism, Deity transcends humanity." — ("The Dogmatic Faith," p. 108.)

An Independent Thinker.

him approach these questions with the reverential spirit, the purity of motive, and the resolute love of truth which distinguished the Christians of the primitive age, and the result will be the removal of " all scruple and doubtfulness " concerning the one true faith, and the Church, which is its " Keeper and Witness."

Chapter II. " Like Noah's Weary Dove."

HE " elderly man" of liberal sentiments, with

JL whom we had an interview in the foregoing chapter, did not call himself a "Christian." And therein he was greatly to be commended, because he showed that he still retained his respect for truth. Nevertheless, if someone had said to him, " Sir, you are no Christian," or, " Sir, your conduct is not that of a Christian man," he would have felt aggrieved and undervalued. And here again he is to be commended, for thus bearing unconscious witness to the purity and loftiness of Christian morality. Though he was not himself a Christian, yet he knew very well what a Christian otigJit to be ; and this " ought to be " was nothing less than an ideal picture of Christian saintliness, photographed on his mind by that Light " which lighteth every man that cometh into the world." From this I conclude that the resentment of our elderly free-thinker, on being stripped of all Christian prestige and ornament, is not the least among the " Evidences of Christian-

There is another and far more hopeful class of ity.

n

"Like Noah's Weary Dove." n

men to whom we will now turn — a class probablymore numerous than we know — who are not infected and worried with sceptical notions, but are simply baffled in their honest efforts to reconcile the apparent anomalies of visible Christianity with the all-perfect delineation of the saintly life as found on the page of Scripture. Many of these victims of doubt are really " not far from the kingdom of God," and deserve sympathy more than indifference or reproach. Their trouble is not attributable to a wrong bias of the will, the heart, or the conscience ; but springs mainly from an antagonism between these elements of their nature and the persistent clamor of a capricious and undisciplined intellect. No one but the great Searcher of Hearts can take measure of their perplexities, or fathom the depth of their secret griefs. And the only wonder is that they should so much resemble those travellers on a broad prairie, who, having missed their way, stand gazing around for some beaten track to lead them out of the drearysolitude, while, close by, but unrecognized, runs the well-marked highway, with its finger-board bearing the gladdening words, " This is the way ; walk ye in it."

In writing these lines, I have had in view a very worthy neighbor of mine, whose outward respect for things sacred was not to be doubted ; but it was so mingled with indecision and shyness in religious converse, that no one could exactly define his position. He went to church, without being 3, Churchman ; thought well of John Wesley, but disliked the Methodists ; had a good word for the Presbyterians, * but abhorred the Westminster Confession ; and would even have favored the Romanists, had they possessed (like the Anglo-Catholic Church) an unadulterated and unalterable Creed. And so, as time went on, public opinion ranked him alternately with believers and unbelievers, and finally settled down quietly by assigning him a conspicuous place in the school of Dotibters.

Meeting him one day as I was strolling in our pleasant park, we sat down together in the shade, and talked for a while on generalities, as people commonly do, when the only use they can make of speech is to drive off, or relieve, the dreariness of silence. I had no reason to think that my companion's reserve, which had chilled all the gossips of his acquaintance, would melt away in the presence of a clergyman. The chances were all on the contrary side. So, at least, I judged. But I was mistaken ; for, to my great surprise, some chance but timely word of mine unloosed the tongue of my reticent friend, and set in motion a torrent of pent-up thoughts ; for which thoughts — as was now quite apparent — I might long ago have opened an outlet, had I only made the venture. This sudden unveiling of a mind which had long been seeking truth by delusive tests and methods, was to me an unspeakable relief. No mariner out at sea ever felt more jubilant on the lifting of a fog, or the return of sunshine ; for my course was now quite clear. I knew enough about spiritual navigation to point out the rocks and shoals, among which the faith of my neighbor was in hourly danger of shipwreck ; and as things stood, I thought that my services as a pilot might not be untimely or useless. The reader, however, must not expect that, I can here set down, word for word, all that was said by my friend, or interjected by myself, as we sat together, not very unlike a priest and his penitent in an open-air confessional. I can only trace in outline, or by fragmentary sketches, that special bias, obliquity, or one-sidedness which so marked the current of this doubter's thoughts as to expose him to the drift of " every wind of doctrine," and deprive him effectually of the peace and " confidence of a certain faith."

A man must be very far gone in doubt to say, as my friend did, " I would believe if I could. But I cannot create faith by the mere force of my own will. I cannot reconcile contradictories ; nor can I trace the straight line of truth through all the twists and entanglements in which the religious world bids me seek it." Speeches of this kind are, at any rate, of some service ; for they are such pictures of a man's own soul as we cannot otherwise obtain, and are likely to be accurate, because they are painted and exhibited by the man himself. It took not long, after this disclosure, to discover the real source of my friend's trouble. He had been for some years a reader, but not a very critical or close student, of the Holy Scriptures. In those Scriptures he read, in the words of Prophets, Apostles, and Evangelists, and in the sayings of our Lord Himself, the most glowing and vivid descriptions of the Christian Church ; its majesty, as a great empire of saints; its all-embracing dominion, from pole to pole, and from the rising to the setting sun ; its unity, as one vast kingdom, affording shelter and protection to all other kingdoms ; its comprehensiveness, gathering into blessed fraternity all races and conditions of men, rich and poor, wise and unwise ; its glory, as a kingdom of righteousness and peace ; its triumphant march, " as an army with banners ; " its supernatural powers, in the presence and might of the Holy Ghost ; and the sway of its resistless arms under the commanding sceptre of " the King of kings and Lord of lords."

All this our friend had gathered, text by text, out of his Bible. And when the labor of many months was thus finished, he took no further counsel of prudence, logic, or common-sense, but sprang at once to the conclusion that he had now before him the iv hole testimony of God concerning the natter e and destiny of the Christian Church; and then, with equal haste and assurance he inferred that this testimony of God could have no other visible and legitimate counterpart or object than that part o{ the human race which is commonly known as " the religious world."

"Like Noah's Weary Dove"

IS

Closing his Bible he took up a hymn-book, and after reading —

"Rise, crowned with light, imperial Salem rise ; Exalt thy tow'ring head, and lift thine eyes,"

he went out into the great " religious world " to see, in real and substantial form, that Church of which such " glorious things are spoken."

And what did he there find to illustrate and confirm what he had read, and was now waiting to realize ? Instead of resemblance to the testimony, he saw unlikeness ; instead of agreement, he saw antagonism. He found discord where he had prepared his ear for transporting harmony; and the din of conflicting voices where the Book had spoken of unity, peace, and concord. But for such sights and sounds he was not prepared ; and, distrusting himself, he inquired of those around him where, in this confusion of things, he should look for that Church which, long ago, was founded on the Rock of Ages, and against which even the gates of hell should never prevail. And as his eye wandered restlessly around, some one pointed out to him a venerable organization which, he said, was older than the most renowned of earthly kingdoms, but still vigorous, stately, full of might, and strangely attractive, though bearing the scars and tokens of many a conflict with foes and traitors in its eventful progress along the track of eighteen centuries. And while the doubter was gazing at this wondrous sight, he saw also, not far off from it, large groups or bodies of people, who, in days of strife and clamor (as he afterward learned) had forsaken this illustrious homestead of their fathers, and formed for themselves a number of independent commonwealths or fraternities outside.

Others told him that neither this old and majestic organization, nor those groups of Christian people which he had seen around it, were really the true and scriptural Church of Christ ; but that the Church of which Apostles and Evangelists had 'written was an invisible body, far transcending all earthly churches, sects, parties, or communities, and comprising only the holy, pure, and faithful of all lands and ages, whose names " are written in the book of life."

And still others told him that his investigations resembled those of a simple novice, ignorant of the new and progressive theology, and unenlightened by all that science and the " higher criticism " had revealed. For, though in older times the Church was really a magnificent spectacle, when the shades of literary darkness and the terrors of superstition held the nations in awe and abject servility, yet, under the sunbeams of modern intelligence, the Church was in a gradual process of disintegration, and was doomed to leave only its foundations and ruined walls for the researches of the antiquarian and the curiosity of the historian.

The enthusiasm of my friend was already beginning to wane. But he was not yet discouraged. A closer inspection might be made. Fie lived in a populous city, with much " religious world " in it. To the manifestations of this he now applied himself. There were in the city more than a hundred houses of prayer, great and small, noble and ignoble. The doors of a few stood open every day, inviting the " children of the kingdom " and the crowd of passers-by to enter in and worship the Lord their Maker. The others, many in number, were barred against the penitent souls seeking refreshment and peace, except on Sundays, and at some intervening hours on weekly evenings. Many of these edifices had become specially sacred by an act of solemn consecration to the service of the Triune God. Many others were simply " dedicated " for religious uses, with an implied reservation for less sacred purposes. In some of these temples of God, divine worship was celebrated with all the impressiveness of the ancient ritual ; the Creeds of Christendom were reasserted by the uplifted voices of choir and people ; and the altars of God were encompassed by faithful souls seeking " the Bread of life." In others, the inspiration of a glowing ritual was wanting ; the pulpit or platform dominated the altar ; the Churchly choir was supplanted by the frivolous quartette ; heaven's high praises were sung by the indevout, and Eucharistic hymns by the unbaptized and godless. It was also observable that, while some of these temples gave welcome and freedom to " all sorts and conditions of men," there were manyothers gorgeously enriched for the comfort of the sons of affluence, but having no desirable place for Lazarus and his friends, should they chance to return from Abraham's bosom. All these discoveries were made by my distracted friend as he roamed about in the streets and avenues of the great city. Weary and sad, he looked no farther, but sought relief in other scenes.

He entered into a country village, told no man his errand, but waited, like Zaccheus in the tree, to learn, if he could, whether Christ and His loving disciples were near at hand. In the charming serenity of this outlying corner of " the religious world " he might surely find (as he hoped)' the Church of the Bible, attractive and lovely with all the adornments of rural piety. He looked abroad in this abode of a thousand or twelve hundred souls, and saw the towers, the spires, and the weather-cocks, of five or six wooden structures, supposed to be palaces for the Lord, the universal King. In each of these, the people were taught a different Gospel — so different that the law of spiritual cohesion among the people, had yielded — though Divine — to a more energetic law of repulsion, which was " earthly, sensual, and," at the least, human. In none of these houses had an altar been erected on which to celebrate and offer up before the Divine Majesty, in holy Mysteries, the memorial of the great Sacrifice once made for the sins of the world. In none of them resounded the glorious liturgies of the faithful, or the manly proclamation of the one true Faith, or the warnings of God and His Apostles against the sin and the peril of " false doctrine, heresy, and schism." Wondering at all this, my friend was simple enough to ask one of the hard-working but ill-paid " ministers," why it was that all those people, who believed in Christ, and no doubt meant to do right, had been so unwise as to burden themselves with the cost and care of so many separate houses for the perpetuation of their strifes and divisions, instead of rearing up one noble and spacious edifice, which, for ages to come, would be the crowning glory of their village, and where they might all come together to worship their God and Saviour, not with souls torn and racked by emulations and jealousies, but in joyous consciousness of being one body in Christ, compacted together, and holding the mystery of the faith " in unity of spirit, in the bond of peace, and in righteousness of life ? "

The inquirer now began to ruminate seriously on what he had seen, and try to find an escape from the labyrinth of his perplexing thoughts. Of one thing he still remained perfectly sure* — that the Bible, and all things written in it, were and must be infallibly true. But the evidence of his eyes and ears had made him nearly as sure that the so-called " religious " community, torn asunder by relentless faction, and stained with all the hues of a parti-colored Christianity, could not be that one holy Church "which prophets and kings desired to see," the city of God, the earthly type and figure of the Jerusalem above.