Christianity and the Social Crisis; A Theology for the Social Gospel

they begot children under a sense of sin and shame. What that may sim'rify for the psychical development of the child, we are not wise enough to tell. The Catholic Church has always had an instrument of immense mobility and resourcefulness in the priests and monks and sisters who were not burdened with family cares and ries, and therefore able to give their thought and service wholly to the interests of the Church. When this instrument is tuned to social purposes, it is exceedingly effective and noble. But a married ministry is more likely as a body to share the point of view and social interests of the common mass of men who also have women to love and children to provide for. A cellbate ministry is perhaps more efficient for the Church; an equally good married ministry is of more service to the kingdom of God. t Thus the monastic movement deflected and paralyzed the forces which might have contributed to a Christian reconstruction of society. It also ruade the very idea of such a reconstruction impossible. Every monastery was a concrete assertion that the ordinary life of men was not only evil and far removed from Christian conditions, but also that it was inherently so and incapable of real Christianization. If a man wanted to live a really Christian life, he must get out of civil society and into monastic society. Thereby the common social life was conderrmed like a rotten hulk, and the most potent spiritual authority of that age declared any effort to reconstruct it to be useless in the nature of things. Thus the reconstructive aire of Christianity was declared impossible, and the indomitable reconstructive energy of Christianity was turned to the building of ideal communities outside of the common life. 1 On the entire subject see Lea, "History of Sacerdotal Celibacy."

It was one of the fundamental characteristics of prophetic religion in Israel that the service of God was sought in ethical conduct and not in ceremonial performances. 1 Christianity in its original purity was even more a religion of absolute spirituality, almost wholly emancipated from ceremonial elements, insisting simply on right relations to men as the true expression of religion. If this attitude had been maintained, it would have turned the force of the religious impulse toward social righteousness, and would inevitably have resulted in a progressive insight into moral wrong, and a progressive reconstruction of social relations in conformity with Christian idcas. But even in the first generation few were able to rise to the spirituality of Jesus and Paul. The Jewish Christians clung to their inherited ceremonial and tried to bind Christianity down toit. Christians who had corne out of paganism were imbued with the customs, the instincts, the points of view created by the entire religious past of the race. It would have been an almost inconceivable leap forward in social and religious evolution if Christianity for the mass of men had remained purely ethical and spiritual. As a matter of fact, Christianity did hOt displace paganism, but penetrated its bulk with a kind of chemical force which was destined in the slow processes of human history ultimately to disintegrate and eliminate paganism from human thought and conduct. In a large sense the entire history of Christianity to our day may be understood as an effort of the spirit of Christianity to overcome the inheritance of ethnic ideas and superstitions. The Reformation was an important epoch in that process but it is hot yet completed.  pp. 4-8.

Christianity in the heathen wofld rapidly relapsed toward the pre-prophetic stage of religion. The material furnished by Christianity was worked over into a new ceremonialism, essentially like the magic ritual of the Greek mysteries and Oriental cults, only more wonderful and eflïcacious. Baptism was a bath of regeneration, cleansing the guilt of all prebaptismal sins, and making the soul like that of a new-born child. In the sacrament of the eucharist in some mysterious way the very body and blood of the Lord were present, and the divine could be physically eaten and its powers received to transform the material into the spiritual and immortal. The formulas of baptism and the Lord's Supper were frought with magic powers. Worship became a process of mystagogic initiation into the divine mysteries. All the old essentials of pagan religion were reproduced in Christian form, but with scarcely a break in their essence: the effort to placate God by sacrifice, the arr..ulets, vows, oracles, festivals, incense, candles, pictures, and statues. It was like a tropical jungle sprouting again after it is cut down. In Neo-Platonism, the highest and most refined product of the old pagan religion, we observe precisely the saine process. The whole system of popular superstition was adapted in that, too. In religion the superstitions and feelings of the lower strata usually soak upward and saturate the higher. The leaders of religious thought will hallow by theological thought and ecclesiastical institutions the coarse and superstitious desires appealing to them from the lower masses. But when Christianity turned its deepest interest from ethical conduct to sacramental ritual, it thereby paralyzed its power of moral transformation. Ritualism numbed the ethical passion of primitive Christianity. There was a vast loss of force even in the effects exerted in private morality. Of course the loss was still greater in the less intimate and pressing duties of the wider social life. The parasitic growth of ritualism and sacramentalism on the body of Christianity is one great historical cause why Christianity has never addressed itself to the task of social reconstruction.

A parallel fact is the deflecting influence of dogma. Idmitive Christianity had strong convictions and was very productive in religious thought, but it was undogmatic. In the Epistle of Barnabas, written near the beginning of the second century, we find the noble words, "There are three dogmas of the Lord: the hope of life,... and righteousness... and love." 1 Contrast with that the opening words of the so-called Athanasian Creed, "Whosoever will be saved, before ail things it is necessary that he hold the catholic faith; which faith except every one do keep whole and undefiled, without doubt he shall perish everlastingly." It then proceeds to set forth that catholic faith in a numberof subtle definitions on the relation between the persons of the trinity. Since the second century, and especiaily since the great doctrinal controversies of the fourth century, dogma came to be regarded as the essence of Christianity. A man must assent to the true doctrine, and if he held that, the fundamenta| requirement of religion was fulfilled. But when dogmati¢ and speculative questions absorbed the religious interest, less of it was left for moral and social questions. The polemic bitterness and intolerance engendered by the dogmatism of the Church have been anti-social forces of the first importance. But it was probably an even greater loss to the race that its  Epistle of Barnabas I, 6.

ablest intellects, the natural leaders of humanity, concentrated their abilities on comparatively fruitless speculation and on the formulation and defence of dogmas which too often were not even true. The mass of men are not able to comprehend speculation; but if they see their intellectual leaders vociferating about the incomprehensible, they will echo the catchwords with an ardor equal to their ignorance. In them the constant insistence on dogma induced an unthinking submission of intellect which dried up those powerful springs of free faith and will that had made primitive Christianity so productive. In that respect dogmatism co6perated with ritualism, which likewise requires no intelligence in the worshipper, and which always acts as a narcotic on the intellect of the people. But intellectual independence and determination are absolutely necessary if the moral forces are to make headway against deeply rooted wrongs. A type of Christianity in which pagan superstition and Greek întellectualism had paralyzed the original social and ethical impetus, was in no condition to undertake the immense task of reorganizing social relations on a Christian basis. Even the personality of Jesus, which is the unceasing source of revolutionary moral power in Christianity, was almost completely obscured by the dogmatic Christ of the Church.

One of the profoundest changes in the history of Christian- The ch ity took place when the simple groups of Christian believers, liness ¢ Christi who were bound together in intimate social life by the saine ity. faith and hope, were transformed into a firmly organized, authoritative, and international ecclesiastical organization.

Correct doctrine, as we have seen, came to be essential t« salvation. But the Church alone was the teacher of true doctrine. She alone preserved the deposit of faith received by apostolic tradition and had the promise of Christ that she would be kept in the truth. The sacraments alone could mediate salvation, and the Church and her pricsthood by apostolic succession and ordination alone had the power to administer the sacraments, to pronounce the magic words that would change the bread and wine into the mysterious vehicle of the body and blood of Christ, and to absolve from guilt and save from hell. Thus the Church was the great channel of salvation; apart from the Church there was no salvation. If a man wanted to be saved, — and men wanted it intensely,- he must remain in contact with the Church, obedient to ber teaching and spiritual direction. Perhaps the most distinctive characteristic of Christianity down to our own time has been its churchliness. Christian ethics became churchly ethics. An action was good or bad mainly because the Church said so. It was good always if it served the Church, for the cause of the Church was the cause of God. 1 There was no higher exercise of piety than to build churches or endow monasteries. Avarice was refusal to enrich the Church. Charity to the Church covered a multitude of sins. If a king served the cause of the Church, he was a blessed man, though he might betray the cause of his people in doing so. Gregory of Tours freely nar- 1 In the papal penitentiary of the fourteenth century the gravest crimes are those involving insubordination to the Church. A priest who admitted an excommunicated man to worship had to pay a penalty equal to that of a parricide and greater than that of a perjurer. A priest ving Chrisfian burial while a country was under the interdict was still more severely pun. ished.

rates the shameful life of the Frankish kings, but he naively calls them men of God on whom the divine blessing rested, because they were zealous for the catholic cause and confessed the blessed trinity. Clovis prospered because he was a supporter of the Orthodox Church. Alaric sought the same ambitious ends, but lost his kingdom, his people and eternal life, because he was an Arian heretic, t The medioeval clergy were often notoriously immoral; but the people were kept in awe of them because they were the representatives of the Church, and through them alone could the sacraments and the absolution of the Church be obtained. They might not have the spirit of Christ, but they had the ordination of the Church. Churchly correctness took precedence of Christlike goodness. If sin profited the Church, even sin might be holy. The amount of distortion of facts, falsification of history, and forging of documents practised in order to advance the cause of the Church is quite incredible. The sale of indulgences, which finally unfettered the popular protest of the Reformation movement, was merely a glaring instance of prostituting the spiritual welfare of the people to the financial enrichment of the church organization. Christian morality finds its highest dignity and its constant corrective in ma-lfing the kingdom of God the supreme aire to which all minor aims must contribute and from which they gain their moral quality. The Church substituted itself for the kingdom of God, and thereby put the advancement of a tangible and very human organization in the place of the moral uplifting of humanity. Bv that substitution the ethical plane of all actions was subtly but terribly lowered. The kingdom of God can never be advanced by cruelty and 1 Gregory of Tours, "Historia Francorum," II, 40, and III, i.

trickery; the power of the organized Church can be and has been advanced by persecution and forgery. By that substitution the Church could claire all service and absorb all social energies. It has often been said that the Church interposed between the soul of man and God. It also interposed between man and hurnanity. It magnified what he did for the Church and belittled what he did for hurnanity. It rnade its own organization the chief object of social service. The more churchly Christianity is, the more will the Church be the only sphere of really Christian activity. Only those portions of daily life which are related to the Church will be illurninated by the consciousness of serving God. The test is secular, natural, permissible; it is not religious and holy. The secular calling in the horne, the workshop, or the town is left unhallowed by religion and void of that joy and enthusiasrn which corne through the consciousness that God loves our work. If a man takes his religion seriously, he will then want to devote his life to the Church. The property of the primitive Church was entirely devoted to the needy. The officers of the Church lived by their own labor unless the service of Christ cornpelled them to forego their earnings. As Christianity became ecclesiastical, the Church rnade itself the chief recipient and its clergy the chief beneficiaries of Christian giving. If a man helped a friend in need, he did a moral act. If he gave to the Church, he did a religious act. The Church was able to offer the most enticing eternal rewards to those who gave to her. Thus she discouraged the giving of aid from man to rnan and encouraged the concentration of giving on herself. To some extent this systematized charity, but it also eliminated tho salutary human element from charity, and an ever larger percentage of the gifts never reached the poor. Charitable institutions are apt to use an increasing share of their income for salaries and incidentals. Trustees are apt to regard themselves as the practical owners of the funds they have long administered. The charity of the Church was perhaps the most distinctly social service which it rendered. That service was diverted the more Christianity became churchly in its essence. Since the progress of Christianity was identical with the progress of the Church, the ablest men consumed their strenh in building up the power and influence of the Church and in working their way to the places in the Church from which they could direct its policies. The organizing ability which might have reconstituted social life vas expended on the organization of the hierarchy and the monastic orders. The State is the organization through v«hich men cooperate for the larger social ends. If men conceive of political duties as a high religious service to man and God, the State can be a powerful agent in the bettering of human life. As long as the Church was in opposition to the State, the Church denied that the functions of the State had any sacredness and deterred its members from entering political service. But even when the Church and the State had entered into a compact of friendship, the Church did hOt infuse the moral vigor and enthusiasm into the political life which it might have imparted. It turned aside many of the ablest and choicest spirits to the monastic life and to hierarchical careers. It has often been said that when the organization of the Empire was tottering toits fall, a new social edifice was rising in the organization of the Church. But the question may fairly be asked if the Church did not hasten the rail of the Empire by draining off so much of the best strength from civil life and using it for her own organization. The influence of the Church on humane legislation was neutralized by her anxiety to secure benefits for herselfo The historian Schillcr, in speaking of the failure of the Church to act against slavery, says, "In general it is astonishing how little influence the Church always exerted on the development of law." 1 But the laws conferring financial gifts on the Church herself and exemptions on her clergy were very numcrous and important. In the perpetual conflicts between the civil and ecclesiastical powers in the Middle Ages it is often difficult for us to see that the cause of Christianity was in any sense at stake. Doubtless the great fighting princes of the Church, men of the granite quarry like Hildebrand, were convinced that the supremacy of the Church was essential to the supremacy of spiritual interests and the reign of Goal over man. Doubtless they were partly right, and every good churchman of to-day, if he had lived then, would have gone with enthusiasm into the fight about lay investiture. But from our present perspective xve see clearly enough that the cause of the Church was not at ail identical with the cause of God, and that the power of Christ over humanity did hot advance at even pace with the power of the pope cver tbe princes. It was largely a class struggle, the conflict of an ecclesiastical aristocracy with a secular aristocracy, and the welfare of the people was hOt the real issue. \qaen the Church fought for her own political interests, and hot for the cause of the people, her influence on the State was often a disturbing and disastrous one. Where clericalism is a political power, a Hermann Schiller, "Geschichte der r6mischen Kaiserzeit," I, 96.

it thrusts an alien influence into every political question. Civic questions are not decided on their own merit, but according to the profit the clerical machine may get out of them. This disturbing influence is greatly increased if the Church is nota national body, but is governed from a foreign centre. In that case Roman schemes or the ambitions of Italian upstarts may determine the civil policies of Germany or France. Thus when Christianity was embodied in an all-absorbing and all-dominating ecclesiastical organization, its social effectiveness was crippled. Its ethical influence was lowered and vitiated. Its fraternal helpfulness was largely absorbed by the clerical machine. Its organizing ability was spent on strengthening its own organization. Its influence on the State was used to secure benefits for itself rather than for the people. By connecting all religious life with its own organization, it left the common life unhallowed and unrenewed. In making these histor[cal criticisms on ecclesiasticism, I do not belittle the immense value and importance of Chrisflan churches. Religion demands social expression like ail other great human impulses. Without an organization to proclaim it, to teach it, to stimulate it, the religious life vould probably be greatly weakened in the best, and in many vould be powerless and un'known. The mischief begins when the Church makes herself the end. She does not exist for her own sa':e; she is simply a working organization to create the Christian life in individuals and the kingdom of God in human society. She is an agent with large powers, and like all other agents she is constantly tempted to use her powers for herself. Our modern political parties were organized to advocate certain political principles and realize them in public