7. The Old Home

I am fully aware that what I have been saying here may stir up some controversy. I shall not be surprised if good friends of mine write to inquire why I am pleading the cause of the Roman Catholics, particularly at a time when they are doing very well without any assistance from Protestants whose faith they deride.

Perhaps I can save someone the bother of writing me such a letter if I answer it before it is written.

I am not a Catholic, and I couldn’t be a Catholic. I haven’t had the training for it. It is not for me. Nor am I discharging an obligation to Catholicism for benefits personally received; for the Catholic press, when it has taken any notice of me, has usually warned its readers that my interpretation of events in Palestine during the ministry of Jesus is spurious. In fairness I should add, however, that I have in my files hundreds of friendly letters from Catholics expressing approval.

What I am trying to make clear is that my interest in Catholicism is strictly impersonal and objective. I want no part of it for myself. But I recognize Catholicism’s essential strength which resides in its age-old, unchanging properties and procedures in an unstable, insecure, restless and badly frightened world.

Protestantism, in a time like ours, suffers of many disadvantages. Its over-all label is unfortunate. It is not, and should not be called, a “protesting” institution. It’s a long time since we “Nonconformists” were “protesters.” We have nothing to protest about. In this country we outnumber the Catholics two to one.

Our so-called “free” churches endlessly examine themselves to discover what ails them. Perhaps that’s mainly what ails them—the examination. Practically every denomination continues to tinker with its face and form, redefines its principles, changes its methods, merges with another church and is required to change its name. It lacks continuity. It tries to keep up with the times, and the times are out of joint. It relies too much on the variable popularity of its pulpit and not enough on the steadying inspiration of its altar.

The large majority of our Protestant churches insist on keeping themselves up to date in an era when everything that is up to date is distressing to the spirit. We are living in an era of unprecedented confusion. The political governments of the world offer but little comfort to their constituencies. New laws appear almost daily, many of them promising a little more “security” to one group at the expense of another, but nobody feels secure. We fly the same beautiful flag and rise to sing the same National Anthem. But almost everything under Government control is in a state of alteration. Even in matters so trivial as the price of an airmail postage stamp, nothing “stays put.”

Now shelters are being planned to save our lives should an up-to-date war produce new terrors. Where can we hide?

But our most fearsome insecurity is an affair of the heart. We want something durable and time-testing to cling to; some Spiritual Refuge that we can recognize.

The large majority of our Protestant churches, excepting those of the Episcopalians, are locked up six days out of seven. This is too bad, I think.

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