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"Life corrected the error of thought," says Archbishop Benson of the Cyprianic councils. Right living will usually correct wrong thinking, and in the Church it must be the life of the whole Body that ripens and perfects its thought and enlarges and quickens its work. The corporate life alone can meet the problems of to-day: problems of theological thought, problems of action, problems of economic peace, of national and international justice and fair dealing. Only when we have recovered our hold on this truth, will the Church really be a working Church and a believing Church.

I have enlarged upon this conception of the Christian society because I see no hope of developing an actively serving laity save as we make it clear that between the member and the minister there is no difference of essential obligation in the Christian calling. The only difference is in the way the service shall be rendered and the circumstances in which it is to be fulfilled. The standard of the service is alike, to redeem and consecrate all human life, individual and corporate, personal and social, and to bring it into the kingdom of God.

That demands service of necessity, and the layman will see it the moment he senses his high calling. He will no longer be indifferent; he will no longer be summoned from such indifference by a call to support the Church gratefully as the society which offers him help; he will come to greet it with great joy as the Body which claims of him service. He will not regard the Church, or think of its worship, or listen to its teaching, solely as a varying repetition of the offer, "see what I can do for you. "" He will regard it rather as the great challenging voice which demands, "What will you do for me-and for the cause for which I exist?" That is the very purpose of the priesthood. "He gave some apostles, and some prophets, and some evangelists, and some pastors and teachers, for the perfecting of the saints unto the work of ministering."

In St. Paul's catalogue elsewhere he lists the diversities of gifts in such order as to imply that work for the Church may have its sphere of activity outside the Church. When he speaks of "first apostles, secondarily prophets, thirdly teachers, after

that miracles, then gifts of healings, helps, governments, diversities of tongues," we might easily paraphrase the list in modern nomenclature. By apostles we would understand bishops; by prophets those who are gifted with the ability to discern the times, whether preachers, poets or editors; by teachers, all who exercise the teaching office in any way; by miracles, scientific discoveries, the marvels of engineering, etc.; by gifts of healing, surgeons, physicians; by helps, the whole order of business and professional and industrial life; by gov ernments, the political and economic order; by tongues, the world of literature and scholarship. Every honorable calling is a part of the divine order, working for God's honor and glory and not for self-advancement, working in the power of the selfsame spirit who divideth to every man severally as He wills.

While we need, however, to emphasize the sacredness of all life to recognize all work as religious work, the layman will not actually rise to his responsibility until he discovers that the advancement of the kingdom and the evangelization of men is as much his task as it is the special work of the clergy. Evangelization! The word calls up scenes of crude excitement at revival services, with methods wholly foreign to our ideas of worship and offending our sense of reverence, with a free use of religious phraseology that verges on sacrilege and smacks of canting insincerity. But all this is not of the essence of the evangelistic spirit. The real thing is to think of the man or woman outside and then for every Christian man-mindful of what religion means to him and of what those outside miss in not accepting the faith which has so changed his life-to try to put the warmth of his heart and life against another man's heart and life and fire him with faith, zeal and devotion. The curse of mass evangelism is that it has become professionalized. What we need is to take it out of the hands of the revivalists; for that matter, to cease to act as if the work of converting men were solely the province of a ministerial order, and to make it a matter, not of professional duty, but of spontaneous individual and personal interest. The preacher's work is largely the edification of those who have already accepted the Christian religion;

he ministers necessarily, in some degree of limitation, only within the walls of the Church (though of course he should not be content to have it so), and it is for those whom he is building up in the faith, to bring others to hear the Gospel call which he utters. In the long run lay labor will get more people, and get them harder, and keep them longer, than any other method of evangelistic work.

What, then, is a layman? A member of Christ, called with an high calling, laboring to bring others to the blessings he himself so richly enjoys.

"Science cannot kill war, for science has not the new heart, and whets the sword to a sharper edge. Commerce cannot kill war, for commerce lacks the new heart, and lifts the hunger of covetousness to a higher pitch. Progress cannot kill war, for progress has no heart at all, and progress in wrong directions leads us into bottomless quagmires in which we are swallowed up. Law cannot kill war, for law is nothing but a willow withe tied round the arms of humanity, and human nature when aroused snaps all the gates of Gaza. Education cannot end war, and if by education you mean the sharpening of the intellect, the drawing out of the powers of the mind, the mastering of formulas and laws and dates and facts, education may only fit men to become tenfold more masterful in the awful art of slaughter. Who will end war? The world has had three historic scourges: famine, pestilence and war. Each one numbers its victims by the tens of million. Commerce killed famine. By her railroads and steamships she killed it. It lies like a dead snake by the side of the road along which humanity has marched up to the present day. Science killed pestilence. The Black Plague, the Bubonic Plague, Cholera, Smallpox, Yellow Fever— all have received their deathblow. Science did the work. These foes of mankind lie bleeding and half dead by the side of the road along which the world presses on to a higher day. Who will kill war? Not Commerce and not Science, not both of them together. Only Religion can kill war, for religion alone creates the new heart. Without religion we are without hope in this world. Without God we are lost."

The Rev. Charles E. Jefferson, D.D.


Rome and Development


OME hath charms for the discontented Anglican; nay, even sometimes somewhat of charm when he is not discontented; an imperial glamour, an autocratic effective discipline, a consensus of taste in worship, that have swept many an Anglican across the Tiber to the Utmost Islands of ecclesiasticism.

Such transitions usually have their intellectual defense, and in the majority of cases one of three reasons is assigned. Either there is a claim that the Papacy presents a more tangible authority than we exhibit; that the Roman voice is "living" while ours is presumably paralysed or inarticulate; or, that on the hypothesis of development now generally recognized by science and philosophy Rome represents more fully than we do what was implicit in the Gospel from the beginning.

For our own consolation we should recognize that the first two of these reasons is based on a confusion of ideas; and that the third, though plausible, is unfortunately for them on their own premises inadmissible, as we shall particularly point out. The confusion of ideas arises from the improper identification of authority and discipline. As a matter of fact Rome's authority is not more consistent than that recognized in other parts of the Catholic Church. It is quite as easy to construct a catena of Roman Catholic divines who differ on various points of faith, and particularly with regard to the doctrine of Papal authority, as it is to construct such a catena of Anglican theologians. As for fundamentals we hold the same creeds, and the formularies we impose are as explicit in their interpretation of the creeds as are the Roman. So far as human knowledge is able to ascertain the facts, our belief in the cardinal doctrines of the Faith rests on the same basis as Rome's. If we owe the definitions of the Trinity and the Incarnation, for example, to the Papal See, we are frankly unable to discover when and where a Pope promulgated them. They come to us, as to Rome, as the great heritage of Catholic tradition. That we do not hold the two dogmas

exclusively defined by the Papal See, or by councils dominated by the Pope, we certainly admit; for we see no reason for accepting them except that the Pope has defined them; and his right to do is the point at issue. The truth is, Rome's authority is not more consistent than ours, but her discipline is more effective. If strict discipline be a criterion of the Catholic Faith, one of the "notes" of the Church, we must confess that Rome is Catholic and we are not. But the most enthusiastic admiration for Roman disciplinary methods cannot logically issue in belief in the Infallibility of the Pope, any more than an appreciation of German efficiency leads to acceptance of the Kaiser's aims. We undoubtedly need much better discipline in our communion, and we must come to it in the interest of greater efficiency; or we are apt to pass through the fire of graver trials than we have yet known. But in comparison with Roman discipline, there is something to be said even for our hectic disorder. As for the "living voice" of the Pope, despite the fact that modern Rome has erected the theory of his Infallibility into the central doctrine of faith, one has looked so long in vain for a precise definition of that doctrine that he dares to defy any Roman Catholic theologian to tell him beyond dispute when the Pope is speaking ex cathedra, and the rest of it. Opinions about the utterances of the infallible Pope differ as much amongst Roman Catholics as with us opinions differ about the infallibility of the Church. Papists are agreed upon but two utterances of the Pope as unmistakably infallible during the last thousand years-the definitions of 1854 and 1870. The Living Voice argument reduces itself again to a question of discipline: whenever the Pope speaks, whether ex cathedra or not, in the main he gets himself obeyed; while, on the other hand, singly or collectively the bishops of the rest of Catholic Christendom have no machinery with which to enforce their edicts; and upon looking back we do not observe that Catholic bishops ever had such coercive power until the evil day when they called in the arm of the state to make effective their spiritual admonition. Anglican bishops have unquestionably lost the power of enforcing their wills, but their recollection of the evils that accompa

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