THE CHURCHES.

Lyttelton Times, Volume CXXIII, Issue 16034, 14 September 1912, Page 8

THE CHURCHES.

ENGLISH CULTURE. DICAN CHURCH’S SERMONS. “ Dean Church,” said Lord Morley once to Mr AY. T. Stead, “is the oonsunimato flower of the culture ol the England that is passing away. We sliall never look upon his like again. " The best of Church's sermons are among the greatest in the English kuiguuQo,” snys the Ilcv GoorgoJaok- ' soii°in"V most charming and luminous 1 appreciation oi Dean Church in the "London Quarterly Review. ,l Hus. paper," ho says, “ is the acknowledgment of a debt, a personal and almost life-long debt; and for myself I can only say that 1 would gladly barter everything that Liddon ever wrote for one volume of Dean Church, and that nothing that either Lightfoot or Newman has done for me can even he compared with what I have learned from him. 1 riover saw him; I never -heard him; I never had any communication with him. I know him only through his hooks; and yet, if I know myself, Methodist and Nonconformist as I am, it is to him more than to any other'man that I owe my own soul. “I gladly confess myself one of those vrtio have seen in Richard William Church —so, at least, they believe —at onco the most cultured and the most completely Christian mind of his generation,” adds Mr Jackson. “ When in his ‘ Memoirs : Mark Pattirun recalls the election of the young Wadham student to be Fellow of Oriel, he quotes tho saying of another, ‘There was such a moral beauty about Church that they could not help taking him.’ Lord Morley, who seems to j* kindle at every mention of the name of j Church, .writes of him a.s ‘a man who united in so wonderful a degree the best gifts that come of culture, sound and just sense and sustained purity of spirit. The real likeness in thought and will and character to the goodness of Jesus Christ'; this was the ideal which Church kept steadily before him in all lie wrote and in nil he was. It is a high claim, but those who know him best are tho first td make it. Even [ men who had no .sympathy with his re- ! ligious school could not come near bun j without doing homage to the unworidj lines? arid elevation of his character.’ j Writing of the-literary legacy which 1 Church has bequeathed to us, Mr Jack- [ son divides it into three groups— .hie | work as a journalist, as a historian j and man of letters, arc] a?, a preacher. I “ It was in the field of history and I .general literature that the Dean’s mo?, j enduring work was amnpiirii"d. ii 1 we? here, as his son-in-law. the lave. ■ Bishop Paget, says, that his larrcM I and most olijirnctrristio end most ! Ihnt powers on mo to the front. T'e ! study ef human naiure, in it? variety. ; its strangeness, it? complexity: the analysis of broad movements into ih?ir i component forces, or the tracing of i them io their many causes; tbs severance and appraising of good and bar; in the mixed actions of famous men : tho redressing of unjust judgments; the patient observation and description of great courses of policy or action- . these were tasks to which the Dean brought his very keenest interest, on which he spent his most serious and most concentrated work, in which ho seemed to know no weariness. If a men would see how delicate insight, and spiritual passion, and the perfection of literary. form, and, above all, a mind wholly mastered by the, ruling ideas of tho New Testament, may be yoked to the service of the Christian ministry, let him giro himself to the study of the sermons of Bean Church. "What he so well says of Wordsworth is nob less true of himself: ‘ With his power and richness of imagination, and his full command over all the resources of voico and car, an austere purity and plainess and nobleness marked all that lie wrote, and formed a combination as distinct as it was uncommon.’ _ When a correspondent wrote to ask him concorning the secrets of good writing his I reply was that ho did not recognise in himself any special training for style ‘except in'watching against the temptation of unreal and of line words.’ One of his favourite quotations was Newman’s: — Prune thou thy words, the thoughts control That o'er thee swell and throng; They will condense within thy soul, And change to purpose strong. . _ And he never tires of warning men that there is a natural nemesis that waits upon all over-strong and exaggerated speech, that even what is true loses its weight at last through habits of 'idle and loose over-statement. Literary critics arc never weary of praising the winning beauty of Church’s stylo; but let it not he forgotten that it is the beauty which is born of truthfulness and simplicity, and of that sincerity of man with himself as with his readers which is one ol the first conditions of the highest literary excellence. A conspicuous characteristic of Church’s mind was his unfailing recognition of the limitations of our knowledge. It was due, in large measure, to "his life-long study o.f Butler. 1 It is a great wish of mine,’ lie wrote in his early days as a student at Oxford, ‘ to be properly acquainted with Butler, to lay the foundations of my own mind amid his works —to have him ever facing me and' imbuing me with his spirit.’ And henceforth Butler ranks with Dan to and Pascal and Newman as one of the chief influences by which his mind was moulded. . , “All his thinking is 'instinct witn the awful consciousness of our immense and hopeless ignorance of the ways and counsels of God.’ It filled him with wonder, tinged sometimes with something like scorn, to hear men arguing ‘as if the whole of tlvo invisible world was as easy to fie understood as the theory of the steam-engine.' ” "RADICAL OPTIMISM.” A summer school of theology, which will be continued until August 2, was opened last night in the Hall of Trinity ■College. Oxford (said the, “ Daily Telegraph " on July 23). Students attended from all parts of the country. The subjects to be. dealt with include the philosophy of religion, the Old and New Testaments, the early Church and comparative religion. Dr Inge. Doan of St Paul’s, delivered the inaugural address. Intellectual differences. he said, never caused quarrels unless there were very unintellcetunl prejudices behind them. And those attending the summer school had.shown |jv coining there that they felt themselves united by a bond which, was strong enough to resist denominational separation. Other varieties of Christian belief and theory they would welcome, whether they agreed with them (»■ not. He did not believe in a religious Esperanto, in which Parthians and Modes. Jews and proselytes, Crete? and Arabians should all find themselves at homo. He had never got much help, intellectually or morally, bv talking to an honorary member of all religions. It was far better that they should speak their own language, and hold their own convictions, whilst listening with respect to tho equally definite views of others. Taking ns bis subject- “The Christian View of the World,” the Dean .said tho Christian revelation, as it proceeded from the lips of the Master, was a form of radical optimism, based on a unite peculiar standard of values which ii affirmed to correspond with objective truth. The best mid purest of all joys was natural affection, and the acts of kindness in which it found expression were the most acceptable service that J tliev could render to God. The crown ! of a l| the virtues, that virtue in which ' all others wore briefly comprehended. | was no longer justice, as with the j Greeks, but love or sympathy, the j direct experience of self-realisation J 1 trough self-transcendence. The affccJ cions brought thorn nearer to God than either tha intellect or tho conscience.

Christian knowledge was no abstract intelleetualism, but the result of experience which had gone to form character. All experience must enter into their characters before it could become their knowledge, and from the heart of man proceeded that interpretation of experience which could make it either a blessing or a- curse to them. It was impossible to confine Christianity in any philosophic network, or to give it the label of any metaphysical typo, and it was better so. Dogmatism and scepticism wore tho two treasons against faith. It was no advantage to have avoided the one ii they straightway fell into the other. WHY SMITH DOESN’T CARE. THE APPEAL OF THE CHURCH. “Smith doesn’t care a farthing about tho state of his soul . . . he declares' that lie believes churches are a good thing, and he will do almost anything for a church but attend its services. What he really means to say is that he thinks the Church is a. good thing for Jones and me, but that, as for himself, he gets on comfortably without it. And the greatest danger .both to the Oliurch and to Smith lies in the fact that lie does apparently get on so comfortably without it.” “I j: these words Meredith Nicholson states for ‘Atlantic Monthly ’ readers one, of tho tremendous, if quiet, changes that have come about in a single generation.” says the New York “Nation.” “There are literally multitudes of persons who can remember, with him, communities where it is not respectable to miss ‘ divine service.’ To-day there is slight exaggeration in the statement that the apologetic tone has shifted to the church attender. The burden of proof is no longer upon the one who, for whatever reason, stays away. In number, at least, he is too respectable to he denounced, and, if the whole truth ■is t-old, his respectability is a matter of something higher than inrss. Why does Smith not go to church? What

•.unices him act so differently from his fathers? Well, Smith is not deeply concerned with the conduct of his an-

cestors. Art, for instance, might. Info interested some of thorn, hut,that would not strike Smith as any reason why he should bore himself with it. A thing must justify itself to Smith, not by having appealed to the.world in the rash, hut by appealing to Smith now. And the Church simply does not appeal to him. Ho answers your question of why h'a does not go, therefore, by asking whv be .should go. How arc you going to reply to him? “Since he has graciously said that !u» thinks churches are a good thing, poj-haps tho most plausible answer vo'dd he that he owes ii. to them and ro himself to join in making them hd.-tv-itiqrf attractive, that is, to men ’ ; ko himself. Even this will probably afreet, his attitude. You might as d! suggest that he help improve the or literature cv 'newspapers. He te-h that he is only n common human being, and that these things are quite outside the range of his influence. If they apnea! to him, good. But if they do not. ho can only let them alone and got along without them until they do, if being, manifest that he can get along without them much better than they can get along without him. Hie prondo in. then, is not how tr> save Smith, hut tho Church. That this view is just the reverse of that which would have been generally taken in any preceding ago merely emphasises th© difficulty of the situation. To be sure, there are persons who hold the old view. There is the anxious mother, who got a religious society to pay her sen a dollar for every church service he attended, honing to sea him become worthier of her love. The experiment failed. Found guilty of impersonating an officer, the youth was sentenced to a term in gaol. Meanwhile, the streets are filled with young men who almost never enter a church, and yet are under no suspicion of serious misconduct. The conclusion is inevitable: either the Church has exaggerated its importance, or its work is being clone in other ways. Wo think both things are. true. In the past the Church professed to know vastly more than it did know of the origin and destiny of man and more than it is at all necessary to know in order to he a .decent and even religious person; and in the present all of its noil-theological activities are supplemented by other organisations. Why, then, save tho Church? If for no better reason, because it is poor . economy to let an expensive and complicated plant go to waste instead of wearing out and being renewed like living tissue. What shall the Church do to bo saved? Ono set of voices cries for a return to the old ways, which, means, specifically, move theology. Another and larger cry is for greater social .service; that is, more attention to the bodies of mankind. Tt may be doubted whether either alone solves tho problem. Tiie theology of the past may be dead, but, on the other hand, it is as true as it ever was that man does not live ' by bread alone. The question of our day is not faith I or works, but,what faith, what works? To give cofl'eo and rolls to a hungry man out of a job is to serve God, if you want to put it that way, but it the Church stops with coffee and rolls it makes a ludicrously and pitiably inadequate use of its resources. Now, there is a work that is not being done by any other organisation in any formal way, a work that needs to bo performed as sorely as any, and that is tho elevation of the motives that actuate men and women, the strengthening of their better selves. “Tin’s task tho Church lias nobly discharged in previous times, and it should continue to discharge it in the years to come.. But perhaps it is a task that hereafter is to ho attended to incidentally rather than formerly. Character, Governor Wilson has remarked, is n byproduct. Even so, the Church can surely And a way to preach effectively while it is binding up humanity’s wounds. And it will do well to remember that its power, like tho power of any institution, bears no fixed relation to tho number, of persons who identify themselves with it.” THE CHUIIOH AND NATIONAL DEFENCE. In a leading article on the Australian system ol compulsory military training tho Sydney “Church Standard” says: function for mankind: and a citizen owes iiis whole-hearted duly to his nation as part of his duty to God. That being so. it includes the duty of each man to be ready to join in the elementary national duty of self-defence. The Church is, and always will be, luce to face with a dilemma in connection with war. Yet it) endeavours to abolish war must not start' by directing Christians to take no share in national military preparations. The body of Christian citizens of each nation may and must work for the time when wars shall cease; they must labour to create an international atmosphere of friendliness, of favourable interpretation by each nation of others. They may hiIwmr to avert war on oath 'issue that seems to threaten it. But the Church in Australia can have nothing but encouragement ior a national attempt to put our splendid country in a state of safety. An Australia with a citizen army is less liablo to attack; it is also not at all likely to exchange defence for defiance and provoke war Thus tho Church, which hates war can s-rc tiqri and bless the present attempt* (in principle if not m details). And we trust that, if need arise, the Church can produce its Lawrences, Nicholsons and Gordons in the ranks of the Australian army But churchmen wilfcal-i culate the chect of the present movement in terms of eharaeter-uroduction j rather than of armies. What is going to ho the effect upon th© Australian

j citizen, and the Australian home, of J compulsory military training? There is < already enough experience to make the , Christian citizen very hopeful that the jj military training will improve that pest Jof Australia, tiie larrikin. Moreover, ! it will probably offer a. path to the 1* wealthier and better educated classes to show qualities of leadership and eomradcskip in return- for their advantages. The greatest foar that has been felt is the levelling down rather than up I that may result from camp life, if not carefully regulated. Our military system, thank God, is not to be a barrack system, and our military authorities show a keen desire to make military training educative for tho character of the citizen.”

The Bishop of London, in a recent address to society girLs and young vcmen, said: . Now I get on to the subject of my talk with regard to the laws of the kingdom as they rule people in relation to social pleasures and social amusements. And the first thing is tho law of loyalty. I know that J am speaking, or I havo not any doubt that 1 am speaking, to girls and women who have nearly all been confirmed, and I want them to throw back their minds for the moment to what l hope was the happy day of their confirmation\ I. expect that nearly every one of you sang on that day, (), Jesus, I have promised to servo Thee to the end,’ and, unless I am very much mistaken, you certainly meant it then. I want you now to ask yourselves quietly whether you have kept that promise—whether you are obeying the law of loyalty to the King of the Kingdom of God ? Of course, I need not tell you that we live in that kingdom. When we sav 1 Our citizenship is in heaven ’ —which is the real translation of ‘ Our conversation is in heaven’ —wc mean that we owe Malty and loyalty to an unseen King.

‘Whom, having not seen, we love,’ and whatever we are doing here in society on earth, aiid however reasonable and right it is to join in it, we are bound at every step by unseen bonds which connect us to the unseen King and the Person of the Lord ol Glory. I should like to put this first, because I am certain that if any class in the. world' knows what loyalty is, it is you—loyalty to your parents, loyalty to your friends, loyalty to your lovers. Are you nt this moment, and have yon been for tho last few years, loyal to Jesus j Christ? This is a question that I want to ask you. Everything comes round in this: ‘Am f loyal to Jesus Christ ».t every moment of the day? Am I lov.il to my unseen King?’ ”

There are different ways of looking at even Hie most untoward ami seemij,.fly undesirable events ol file- M iicn, for instance, sudden death comes to one who by a life of open or secret sin has won for himeelf an unenviable, reputation, it is indeed a and distressing event. Those who long and strive for the reclamation “of the .sinner deeply regret that such an one should have died in sin. The sudden death in the path of duty of the tried and faithful Christian is an altogether different matter. As th« staunch and faithful soldier longs for no hotter death than that which comes to him on the field of battle, beneath the colours, so to the devoted soldier ol the Cross, rino in faithful years, rich in fruitful deeds, the call to depart, when and wliereso’or it cornea, never comes amiss. For him there is no sting, or stain, in sudden death. It is but the quick and longed-for call to the rest that remainotb, and later on to the reward that enrieheth, not tor a time, but for eternity.—“ Canadian Chuichimin.”