Sermon

March 6, 1995

In the five years I have distributed my “Musings” I have resisted the temptation to include a sermon. But in sorting out files stuffed with papers, I came across “The Beacon of the Wise”, delivered in Akron in 1957. I might say things differently today, but I have not changed a word from the original.

I have broken my rule because what I said then still represents a foundation for my beliefs.

As my posterity now includes three succeeding generations, this statement of my belief basis may be of interest to somebody, some day or year.

The Beacon of the Wise

One of the more erroneous notions that many persons cherish is the belief that doubt is a negative virtue, if it is a virtue at all. Radio voices, sometimes ominously sepulchral, sometimes merely irritatingly “folksy”, have a habit of ringing the changes on the accepted idea that the doubter lives in anxiety and dies in uncertainty. If only the doubter would have “faith”, we are exhorted, not only would his future be assured, but also his digestion would improve because he would have the “power of positive thinking”, and “every-day in every way he would be getting better and better,”

In my opinion much of this “buck-up-old-boy” philosophy is either nonsense, or is the elevation of the trivial, even though it may be complacently called “faith”. Now while I do not deny that there is at least some value in positive suggestions, in this sermon I want to attempt to state the case for the proposition that doubt can function in a manner which will lead us to a more healthy life and a more satisfactory religion.

In Troilus and Cressida (Act II, scene 3), Shakespeare has Hector say,

“The wound of peace is surety,
Surety secure; but modest doubt is call’d
The beacon of the wise, the tent that
searches to the bottom of the worst.”

As he did so many times, Shakespeare demonstrated amazing insight into human character and the human condition when he called modest doubt the “beacon of the wise.”

As one travels the coastlines of our country, the winking beacons of the lighthouses are picturesque scenery to the land-traveler. To the men who go down to the sea in ships, these beacons are a necessity. In ancient days these beacons were signal fires. As men began to know more about optics and mechanics, great reflectors thrust light out to the deep waters so that mariners might be safely guided. We now live in an age where the beacons are carried by radio on invisible sound waves. Beacons, old and new, serve at least two important functions: First, a warning is given of ledges, shoals, and reefs. Second, the beacons and buoys flash the direction of where we should go – the deep waters which are the channel to the harbor and safety of the pier.

Doubt is a personal beacon. Doubt can indicate where not to go. Doubt also guides us in safer channels of living. It should be noted that “doubt” must be distinguished from a barren skepticism. There is a hackneyed, and quite unfair definition of a religious liberal which goes something like this: “a liberal is one who strongly disbelieves anything that anyone else believes, and has a strong, sustaining faith in he does not know quite what.” While Somerset Maugham may have thought this an accurate description of a liberal, it is the attitude of the dogmatic skeptic, rather than the questioning liberal, who, while entertaining doubts, at the same time wants to grow in understanding and to develop more profound and meaningful values.

The doubt that is “the beacon of the wise,” is the doubt that does not reject beliefs with hostility, merely because someone else believes them. The “beacon of the wise” is the “modest doubt” that clarifies understanding by questioning beliefs that have become dogmas in the mind of the majority. Doubt that seeks truth and understanding will cherish something of the philosophy of Thomas Jefferson (quoted by Phillips Russell, Jefferson, Champion of the Free Mind, p. 145):

“Question with boldness even the existence of a god; because if there be one, he must approve of the homage of reason rather than that of blindfolded fear... If it ends in a belief that there is no god, you will find incitements to virtue in the comfort and pleasantness you feel in its exercise and the love of others which it will procure you. If you find reason to believe there is a god, a consciousness that you are acting under his eye and that he approves you, will be a vast additional incitement.”

Tennyson, you will recall, said that “there is more faith in honest doubt than in half the creeds.” Robert Ingersoll commented, in typical fashion something to the effect that there is more doubt in honest faith than is ever admitted in the ponderous certainties of professional theologians.

Victor Hugo, in Les Miserables, with literary genius, illustrates the positive power of doubt in two conversations with non-believers carried on by the good Bishop Myriel. First, he meets the Count. The Count scorned the God ideas, immortality and religious-ethical beliefs. To him these ideas were below the level of the philosopher-rulers of his great stature. He was quite willing that the great mass of persons should believe in God AND be deprived of the satisfaction of enough food, decent housing and cultural advantages. Religious beliefs would take the place of the bread and butter their stomachs craved. The kindly Bishop dismissed the arrogance of the Count with gentle, but penetrating irony. The Count personified the quality of snobbish shallowness which is quite deadly to the recovery of religious significance. Superciliousness is not only arrogant, but ignorant; not only destructive, but non-productive.

In contrast is the conversation between the good Bishop and the dying, agnostic revolutionist. The old radical had seen his dreams come true, only to see the bright hopes clouded over when the Reign of Terror prostituted the ideals of liberty, equality and fraternity which had sparked the capture of the Bastille and the oath of the Tennis Courts. As his life ebbed away, the old agnostic could look back on an old age which had been punctuated by poverty, and worse yet, he had been rejected by his fellow-men for whom he had given his mind and strength. In spite of such blows, his reverence for life was so profound that, even though the agnostic revolutionist cannot honestly use the name of God, the good Bishop goes to his knees, asking for the blessing of one the church called “atheist.”

Why? There is a spirit of reverence in “modest doubt” which can be considerably more religious than enthusiastic recitation of creeds of ages long-gone.

The story told by Hugo is one of those universal stories, true in any age, warning us of the principal peril that any religion must encounter. There is always the danger that religion will be popular simply because it fails to penetrate the darkened crust of our selfishness. Religion always faces the horrible hazard of being nothing but a protective facade, disguising an inner corrosion; -- hiding the decay of things which are most vital.

Thus, it follows that if doubt is a vital religious process, it cannot function healthfully in a vacuum void of values. If doubt is to be a light of wisdom for us, we must have a place to stand. Otherwise we are like the men described by Henry Drummond, the great preacher of another day. He told of being on an ocean liner halted in the middle of the Atlantic because of failure of engines. Dr. Drummond said he became suddenly aware that if all the 500 able-bodied men on the ship clustered around the smokestack and pushed with all their might, -- the ship would get exactly nowhere – would still be controlled by the winds and currents.

We, too, need a place to stand. Otherwise we will be battered and destroyed by all the cross-currents and contradictions.

There is a foundation for modest doubt. Here are parts of such a foundation. (You might add other components.):

First, question, - even challenge, - any religious institution that separates morality from religious consciousness. The institution of religion is justified if it helps people to live more effectively; if it helps persons to achieve individual and group needs for love, freedom, and belonging to a great cause. When an institution frustrates those basic needs of persons, then modest, but courageous doubt must assert the priority of human values over decayed institutions.

Martin Luther’s “A Mighty Fortress is our God,” has become one of the grand expressions of historic Protestantism. Yet Luther developed hist strong and great faith by beginning with sincere doubt. When the ecclesiastical and political nobles were concluding the proceedings at Wurms, they witnessed Luther take his ultimate position on the basis or religious morality. “I can say nothing against conscience, God helping me, I can do no other. Here I stand.”

Furthermore, this stand on morality, rather than institutionalism, must be a person-centered morality. This is a value judgment. The religious institution is but a framework in which people attempt to meet the needs they label religious. This framework is not an end in itself. When the church (institution) becomes more important than the human needs which led to the birth of the church, then it is time to look with doubt on the structure and purpose of this institution. Henry Clay Lindgren cogently expresses this point of view in his recent book, Meaning, Antidote to Anxiety. He remarks, “organized religion can help mankind by providing the place and the opportunity for self-discovery and self-understanding.”

Jesus was a doubter. He doubted the value of institutions when they neglected a person centered morality. There is tremendous impact in Chapter 5 of Matthew. One could describe this chapter as a “person-centered approach to doubt.”

Jesus says, “You are the light of the world.” “You are the salt of the earth.” Starting with these essentials he goes on to list constructive, modest doubts, which can still be “beacons to the wise.” “You have heard it said by men of old, You shall not kill, whoever kills shall be liable to the judgment, But I say to you everyone who is angry with his brother shall be liable to the judgment. You have heard it said ... but I say unto you.” He goes on in the instances of adultery, divorce, false witness, revenge and hate to doubt that the old attitudes are still valid. Why? Because they are not person-centered.

Thus the foundation includes not only religious morality, but also morality that centers in on the needs of persons.

Furthermore, it can be suggested that the “beacon of the wise,” will include the attitude of readiness to face facts and make needed changes. Arnold Toynbee, the historian, said, “But how, I ask you, can one lift up one’s heart and apply one’s mind unless one does one’s best to find out the relevant facts and look them in the face.”

There is a positive value in change which the history of any science, any government, any religion, will supply ample testimony.

The distinguished English actress, Dame Sybil Thorndike is now appearing on Broadway. Recently she was interviewed by a writer for a religious magazine. She was asked if there was any conflict between religious faith and a theatrical career. She answered, “No, there’s no conflict. My acting is really, a confession. I’m a high Anglican, you know, but I quit going to confession. My priest agreed. I said to him, ‘It’s my confession when I’m acting. You have to search in every character for the part of yourself that’s in it. There but for the grace of god ... I might have done that ... You say you don’t like the miracle in the play, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is to be searching. YOU’RE NOT SURE, THEN YOU’RE ALIVE. That’s a negative way of putting it, but its right for our time.’”

The worth of persons and the positive value of change are the foundation of modest doubt. Our religious education series is known as the “Beacon” series. It is well-named in the sense we have been describing. It encourages us to look at people and their religions. The Beacon series asks us to consider ourselves, and our relation to the past and the present. It asks us to be ALIVE by searching.

We must maintain a vigilant attitude of wholesome values, we must search for unfolding truths in intellectual honesty, rather than prudent defensiveness. Changes we must accept, as we accept the changes of wisdom and stature in our individual minds and bodies. Browning said it well:

“Nothing can be as it has been before;
Better, so call it, only not the same.
To draw one beauty into our heart’s core;
And keep it changeless: such our claim;
So answered, never more.

“Simple? Why, this is the woe of the world:
Time, to whose rise and fall we live and die
Rise with it then. Rejoice that man is hurled
From change to change unceasingly.
His soul’s wings never furled.”

End Sermon

CJW Postscript:

3/6/95 – It occurred to me as I was typing from the original that either through ignorance or insensitivity I did not degenderize - “men”, “he”, etc. But in the ensuing 38 years I think I’ve learned.

Worship

November 20, 1957
Akron
Originally Bridgeport February 21, 1954

(HASTINGS) phases: Anointing, Asceticism, Atonement, austerities, baptism, celibacy, chastity, communion, confirmation, confession, consecration, dance, deification, devotions, devotional literature, expiation, fasting, feasting, human sacrifice, hymns, images, idols, initiation, mysteries, oaths, ordeal, penance, pilgrimage, prayer, priest, priesthood, processions, prophecy, propitiation, purification, sacraments, sacrifice, secret societies, tabu, totemism.

--- There are wonders to worship ----- There are weaknesses to worship

There must be many weaknesses in an organized worship because there are so many persons who are consistently absent. There is the story about a man who asked an acquaintance, “why don’t you go to church?” “Too far.” was the answer. Then the second man inquired, “Why don’t you go?” and the answer was, “We live next door to one, and I hate to get all dressed up just to go that little way.”

In a story of the Virginia Colony of 1611 (Behold Virginia, by Willison) there is told the story of how the workers in the colony were compelled to attend church twice a day under military escort. After the bell “had tolled the last time, the (sentinels) searched the homes and commanded everyone who was able to walk to go to church right away. After the last had entered the church, the Captain of the Watch locked the doors and laid the keys before the Marshall, who then called up the roll – and woe to him who was absent without excuse.”

Many church leaders are proclaiming that the United States is the most religious country in the world, and furthermore that we are in the midst of the greatest revival of religion in our history. If this is so, there must be great weakness in worship, for during this so-called peak or religious consciousness, the national average would demonstrate that less than 1/3 of all church members are in their pews on Sunday. The ultimate in advertising weakness in worship is the church that has the slogan, “every Fourth Sunday is go to church Sunday.”

On the other hand there must be strength and wonder in worship because the converse proposition can also be stated, “why do so many people go to church?” We do not have to leave our homes to get the news; we can speak with our friends just by lifting the telephone; we can listen and see religious services through the airwaves; there are countless other and more glamorous attractions to capture our attention and money on Sunday and no longer are there soldiers whose duty it is to round us up and escort us to morning worship.

But worship has enough power so that in some neighborhoods the home-owners object to a new church because the church traffic, crowds, and noise would destroy the residential character of the neighborhood and interfere with their privacy. (Not a thrill for liberals).

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“Let righteousness pour down as a mighty stream.” When you read your N.T. again, count the number of times that Jesus conducted a worship service. “We will now chant Psalm 8!” Isn’t that a striking thought – if Jesus didn’t conduct worship services, why should we? Jesus thrust upon men’s consciousnesses the need for love and service. His whole life was worship. Even Paul, with all his submerging of the religion of Jesus, insisted upon right living and real faith, rather than the performance of ritual acts.

These germinating ideas which are at the heart of worship are the clues to the weaknesses, but also to the wonders of worship.

We no longer offer gifts on an altar in the old sense. But many people come to watch someone else worship, as in olden times people watched the priest slay the animal. One of the most devastating criticisms of the lack of depth of persons in responding to worship was made by a TV comedian. Henry Morgan remarked that he went to church with a friend. As they were coming out Morgan was impressed by the apparent fact that his friend had not felt a thing as far as that worship service was concerned.

Then Morgan went on to say, “Most people go to church the way they go to a filling station. They drive in Sunday morning and say to the attendant, ‘fill her up!’ They expect a full tank of grace. While waiting, they fall asleep and they wake just in time to have the attendant check the tank for the milk of human kindness. They throw a tip into his little basket and leave, figuring they have got enough to last all week. With most of them it runs dry before Sunday night. What they forget is that it is not only last year’s model, but that each year it suffers more and more spiritual depreciation.”

Henry Morgan’s parable has kinship with the criticism that is made at times of persons leading worship (SS and church). You have heard it

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You will find great weakness in worship if you come merely to be entertained. There was a time, perhaps, when the church service offered the most fascinating entertainment. The preacher might have been the most eloquent voice available. The organ and choir the best music, the Sunday clothes the most recent fashion parade. If that was ever true, it certainly is not so now. Let’s face it, -- in terms of entertainment, the church cannot compete with Sullivan, I Love Lucy, Wyatt Earp, the $64M question, Fight Night on television, Bishop Sheep, Elvis Presley or the Cleveland Browns.

There are persons who seek diversion when they attend church. They feel some sort of detached power when watching others worship; they find places where their particular prejudices are tickled rather than challenged; they manage to discover a preacher occasionally who is an entertaining performer. But the real wonder of the worship experience is lost when such are the attractions.

So much for some of the weaknesses of worship. But the worship service is still at the center of organized life of most churches. If there were not some values of deep intensity available, this would not be so.

Paul in his address to the Athenians in the market place, says, “[God] hath made of one blood all nations of men to dwell on the face of the earth, and hath determined the times before appointed, and the bounds of their habitations. They should seek the Lord, if haply they might feel after him, and find him, ... for in him we live and move and have our being.” Paul is saying that we are made for worship. If this be so, when worship becomes weak and flat, then we are denied the full flavor of that which is an essential part of ourselves.

The custom of weekly Sabbath was a development in religion. At first worship coincided with the seasons, when man had reason to be more aware of the mysterious powers that surrounded and enfolded him: seedtime, harvest, the shortening and lengthening sun. But the custom of one day a week set apart for worship had a dual purpose.

First of all it was to be a day when man should consider their creation and existence, when they reflect upon the mysterious, divine source of being. At the same time there was the purpose of a day of needed rest for weary bodies. To overlook either of these functions today is to deny the satisfaction of needs which the human being has recognized for hundreds of generations. Sunday, for many, has become a day of recreation. Too many times the other function is overlooked – that it is a day of RE creation also.

We cannot capture for ourselves the wonder of worship unless there is a renewal of reverence. In spite of the aroma of piety that is popular today, is not reverence a disappearing emotion? How often are we caught up by the holiness of the world that veritably our breath is taken away? Yet we miss so much when we hurry reverence out of our lives. Reverence is something that captures us, -- sometimes with the beauty of a flower, the glorious colors of a sunset, the smile of a child, the calm tragedy of aged life for whom the sands are running out, or the power of the fellowship of worship which runs from “heart to heart and from hand to hand.”

It was said of ancient Israel that Solomon’s temple was such a revered holy place that “all people longed to come there for pilgrimage and worship.” Psalm 84 which begins “how amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of Hosts! My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord; my heart and flesh crieth out for the living God. Yea the sparrow hath found a house and the swallow a nest for herself where she may lay her young, even thine altars, O Lord of Hosts, my king and my God. Blessed are they that dwell in thy house; they will still be praising thee.”

The psalmist expressed the longing of the people of the outlying regions for the opportunity to worship in the Temple. Such a pilgrimage meant so much to them that they envied not only the priests and attendants, but even the sparrows which nested there.

But we cannot hope to the feel the edge of such deep religious feelings unless we renew the spirit of reverence. The conviction persists that there is something more penetrating than habit or social pressure in the great ceremonies of life which the church and the synagogue celebrate: birth, bar-mitzvah, confirmation, church membership, marriage, death. The church is the framework for the celebration of life.

There are people who do not need the regular practice of worship at a set hour each week to plunge to the depths and climb to the heights of this religious spirit of reverence. They can go by themselves by the river’s brink, or in the forest and come to that awareness of beauty, order, and creation which is beyond words. But most of us need the regular habit of worship to condition our emotions, to participate in that feeling which combines in thrilling intensity, joy, sorry, tragedy, and hope. If we enter “into his gates” with hope fullness and teachableness we can learn to appreciate inwardly (in the words of C F Von Weizacher) “body and soul are not two substances, but one, (it is) man becoming aware of himself in two different ways.”

Such may be the reward of reverence illustrated in the gospel according to Luke when it is said of Jesus that “when he was demanded of the Pharisees, when the kingdom of God should come, he answered them and said “the kingdom of God cometh not with observation: neither shall they say, Lo, here! or Lo there! for behold the kingdom of God is within you.” Such an awareness is the wonder of worship.

But worship, whether kindled by a babbling brook, or conditioned by the regular habit of being one of a company of worshippers, cannot rest with the spirit of reverence as a detached, vague, feeling.

Worship, reverence, must be keyed to life itself. The philosopher Immanuel Kant once defined religion as the “attitude of viewing all our duties as divine commands.”

Worship is one of those rare opportunities each of us has to be completely honest with himself. You do not have to be in tune with the preacher to meet yourself as you really are. One man leaving a church said to the minister, “I want to thank you for the sermon, it did me a great deal of good.” The minister was pleased and remarked that not always did he know if his sermons reached people. The worshipper smiled apologetically and said, “I wasn’t speaking about your sermon. I left you a long way back. I was speaking about the sermon I preached to myself after I stopped listening to yours.” You can’t wash the new car in church, you can’t catch up on the housework, -- but there are a few places so well suited for grappling with the real problems, wrestling with the tensions that make us fearful, arrogant, rash or enraged.

It has been said about Immanuel Kant, whom we quoted, that he formed the habit of “thinking about his problems while gazing at his neighbor’s weather vane; and when the neighbor removed it from his building, Kant considered suing him because he claimed its absence interfered with his work.” The weather vane had become the trigger to his thinking.

When a person comes to group worship trying honestly to see himself as he really is; and his fears and hopes for what they really are; then worship can be a healing function of the spirit and the worshipper will go on his way clean and rejoicing. And that’s the wonder of worship.

Lastly, but primarily, worship can create wonder when it is related to conduct. John Murray Atwood emphasized that worship is a way “of winning a man to certain principles and implanting them.” Unless the spirit of worship improves conduct, or holds a person fast to high principles and noble duties, then it is of little purpose, In his words, “day by day, in the common round and in emergencies, if we are going to do well and faithfully, meet the danger, perform the hard duty, do over the oft-repeated tasks, we reach up unconsciously for perseverance, for fidelity, for patience, for courage, for determination, for good-will, for integrity, for love – for God, and find ALWAYS when we do, if we attend to the experience, that there is an upward surge of emotion that enables us to carry on. He girds us when we know it not.”

The Hebrews in the great devotional literature of the psalms, asked, “What does Jehovah require of his worshippers?” In Psalm 15, there is illustrated the temple liturgy performed at the door. The pilgrim asks, “who can worship at the temple?”(1) The priest answers (2-5) those who are honest and righteous, truthful, who refrain from gossip and slander, who do not harm their friends, do not insult neighbors, do not despise the reprobate, who honor those who fear the Lord, who keep an oath, who do not take interest.

Was this not demonstrated in the life of Jesus in the story of the temptation? Jesus resists powerful and seductive temptations to use his time, power to conduct himself so as to glorify himself. Jesus calls on those inward reserves of patience, courage, determination and integrity. He resists the temptation in a mighty tide of moral resistance, and when he does, we are told that Lo angels ministered unto him.

That is the wonder of worship.

Religion in the Garden

June 23, 1957
Akron

Religion in the garden is one of the most highly publicized news stories of the year. The garden is Madison Square; the religion is the revivalism of Billy Graham and his efficient, stream-lined organization. There are other gardens which have the power to direct our minds toward religion. I would like to stimulate your thinking not only in the direction of Madison Square, but also reflect briefly upon two other gardens, Eden and Gethsemane.

(If there were time we could consider another garden of religion, -- the garden of your back-yard. The poet has said, "we are nearer God's heart in a garden, than anywhere else on earth." In the contact with Mother Earth we are renewed as was Anteus of Greek myth. In the impact of seedtime, growth and harvest there comes a consciousness of the mystery and majesty of the workings-out of the living wonder of the world.)

We are informed by the daily releases, usually two column, with a startling headline, that 18000 persons are filling Madison Square Garden in New York to capacity nearly every night for the Billy Graham fundamentalist revival.

The Madison Square Garden revival has been planned to make statistical failure impossible. That in itself is a striking fact: failure is impossible! Every intricate detail of organization has been carefully planned. The financial cost of at least $1,200,000 has been carefully solicited and practically guaranteed.

Billy Graham's advance men secured the support of nearly 1500 churches in the New York City area prior to the beginning of the campaign. The coverage of advertising and public-relations has been a press-agent's dream. The newspapers and magazines have been giving Graham astounding space. TV and radio reporting of the event has been impressive, at least from the viewpoint of persons who have difficulty in getting simple paragraphs about liberal religion into print or on the air. 580 billboards proclaim the personal magnetism and charm of the confident Billy Graham. 500,000 leaflets add to the concentration of mass advertising and appeal.

The Madison Ave., advertising agencies have never planned a campaign to sell whiskey, soap, or de-odorant with more "know-how", more concentrated effort, more skillful use of the "persuaders" which make persons buy a product. News offices of the major metropolitan newspapers and wire services report that Billy Graham's press agents invade, with four or five surrounding each news editor. Those of us who count crowds at Easter and Christmas, but on few other occasions, are staggered by the fact that about 18,000 persons are in Madison Square Garden every evening to experience the preaching power of this famous Christian orator.

11,700 seats are booked in advance. There is a choir of 1500. There are hundreds of counselors, ushers, ministers, and thousands of persons who come in pre-arranged delegations from Fort Worth, Texas, Akron, Ohio, Wheeling, W. Va. and hundreds of other towns and cities. Notwithstanding this, the fact that 7800 seats are taken by the general public each night is overwhelming testimony to the power that this religion of yesterday still exerts upon the general public of today.

What is this religion of power? What is the religion of Madison Square Garden? Is it one that will help us on the rocky road to peace with ourselves and our fellow-men? Will the religion in Madison Square Garden give us the adequate moral under-girding we need in our personal and social worlds which will be to us a very present help in trouble?

There is nothing new about the religion in Madison Square Garden. It is the old fundamentalist creed that we are sinners completely incapable of saving ourselves. As pointed out in the Christian Century, the doctrines of the fundamentalist creed preached by Graham are 1) the virgin birth, 2) the infallible inerrancy of the Bible in every detail, 3) the resurrection of the physical body of Jesus and of the saints at the end of history, 4) the substitutionary blood atonement, 5) the second coming of Christ, soon, to establish the kingdom. Those to Graham are the "essence of the Christian faith." The question is, "are you saved?" You may only answer "yes" if you have been converted; if you throw your helpless, sin-soaked self into the arms of God by confessing Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior.

What one then does after this formula is accepted is left quite vague. Billy Graham himself, in spite of his great talent for speech, has uttered some amazing contradictions. For example, he said in one of his sermons, "It is the gospel of Jesus Christ that made America great. That is the heart and core of American democracy." But on another occasion, although he affirmed that America is great, that American democracy was caused by and equal to the gospel of Jesus Christ, which Graham preaches, Billy also said in obvious contradiction, "I am deadly serious when I say that our country is falling apart at the seams right now. The only thing that can save America is a spiritual revival."

[the following paragraph is typed, but crossed out]

Religion in Madison Square Garden offers a Bible as God's Holy ... but deals not at all with the scholarly and personal problem of "how shall we interpret the laws, drama, sermons, poetry, history and letters written thousands of years before our time, -- written for and to another age? Whose interpretation shall we accept as we seek to apply this "special sacred scripture" to the affairs of our lives?

Religion in Madison Square Garden considers man a worm, irredeemably marked with original sin who can be saved only by throwing himself on the mercy of God and Christ and reciting the Christian formula.

However, the relevant question has been raised even by orthodox Christians, "what good will the revival in the garden do?" Billy Graham has said that New York is the greatest citadel of sin in the world; the prime target for which he has been preparing for years. Even if he exceeds the number of "conversions" that Billy Sunday scored years ago, 100,000, will it make any real difference in the tensions that throttle mankind? Will there be a leavening of love in the relationships between man and men? Will the horrible blight of segregation, the bitter hate and misunderstanding between Negro and White be lessened by this revival of religion? Billy Graham says that no social change is possible until the individual has a new heart, has been "saved." Yet the plain fact is that Billy Graham, a southerner, quite familiar with the patterns of un-Christian behavior between man and man in the South and North, says nothing about what non-segregated churches might and should do to truly make the Christian church a brotherhood of human beings. This religion of yesterday in Madison Square Garden totally disregards all the knowledge that man has accumulated in scientific and historical studies and upon which we base our civilization and culture today. Billy Graham tells us we need only rely on the Bible.

There is no need to spell out for this audience the flaws and difficulties in the old-time fundamentalist religion. But the phenomenon of the success pattern in the Garden is one for us to note. Actually, how impressive, how successful is this glittering campaign of conversions? We read the mounting number of thousands who have "made a decision for Christ," but just what lies behind the statistics? First of all, the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association readily admits that 40 to 75% of the decisions are made by persons who are already members of cooperating churches which have sent delegations to Madison Square Garden. What does a "decision" really mean? Does it mean one joins a church? Makes a financial pledge? Not at all! All Billy Graham asks is that they promise to attend "some" church and "consider" joining. One just questions whether this mammoth, glamorous campaign is justified. It's something like the mountain bringing forth a mouse.

I cannot help but be reminded by a conversation in Sinclair Lewis' novel, Elmer Gantry (still one of the most thought-provoking books about religion). One evening the very successful Dr. Gantry, evangelist, who has built his Wellspring Church to a great institution, is talking with Dr. Andrew Penguilly, saintly, scholarly, aged, Methodist minister of a country church. Elmer in condescending fashion is talking to the old man and says, "You say Brother Penguilly that you have heard of our work at Wellspring? But do we get so near the hearts of the weak and unfortunate as you do here? Oh, no! Sometimes I think that my first pastorage in a town smaller than this was in many ways more blessed than our tremendous to-to in the great city. And what is accomplished there is no credit to me. I have such splendidly loyal assistants. Mr. Webster, the assistant pastor, such a consecrated worker, and yet right on the job. And Mr. Wink and Miss Wezeger, the deaconess, and dear Miss Bundle, the secretary, such a faithful soul, so industrious, -- oh yes, I'm singularly blessed. But given these people who really do the work, we've been able to put over some pretty good things, with God's leading. Why, we've started the only class in show-window dressing in the United States, and I suppose England and France. We've already seen the most wonderful results. Not only in raising the salary of some fine young men in the church, but increasing the approval of business, improving the appearance of show windows. You know how much that adds to the beauty of downtown streets. And the crowds do seem to be increasing steadily. We had over 1100 present in my last Sunday evening in Zenith, and that in Summer. During this season we have often nearly 1800 in an auditorium that's only supposed to seat 1600. And with all modesty, it's not my doing, but the methods we are working up. I think that I may say that every man, woman, and child goes away happy and yet with a message to sustain them through the week. You see, oh, uh, I give them the straight old-time gospel in my sermon; I'm not the least bit afraid of talking right up to them and reminding them of the awful consequences of sin and ignorance. Yes sir, no blinking the horrors of the old-time proven Hell, not in my church I'm running. Also we make them get together and their pastor is just one of their own chums. We sing cheerful, comforting songs. Do they like it? Say, it shows up in the collections."

Old Doctor Penguilly then says to him gently, "Mr. Gantry, why don't you believe in God?"

Something of the same criticism may be made of the fundamentalism of Billy Graham. Is there any evidence in all the ranting, screaming, and headlines condemning man, degrading his essential dignity, -- is there any evidence that Billy Graham, or any of those like him believe in a god of love and forgiveness, a god who will save all persons whether they are converted or not? Is there any such strong faith as Universalists have been proclaiming for nearly two centuries that all souls will be saved and that religion is for the benefit of mankind?

Religion in the Garden is not new. It recurs in American culture. Undoubtedly there are some of you present who remember Billy Sunday and his 100,000 converts in New York City. Did it make any great difference? Then there was Dwight Moody, and a generation before him, Charles G. Finney.

There are basic reasons why revivalism is a basic and continuing part (see NATION - O'Loughlin) of American life. First of all, professional revivalism is a business, with large staffs, publishing houses, and continuous active programming. It exists for its own sake; keeps going in order to keep the business going. Secondly, many Americans have a guilty conscience. Many of us worry about the inconsistency between our ideals and our practice. Therefore it is helpful to purge oneself periodically of self-dissatisfaction. Then, too, as so many of you have told me in speaking of the revival religion in this area, "it's a good show." People like to see good shows.

No one questions the right of Billy Graham to promote his religion in the Garden. Get converts if he can do it; keep them if he can. There is no doubt that people are hungry for heroes. All of us yearn for the easy answer to the complex problems of our lives and times. But reason tells us that complex problems have complex answers. Furthermore, there are those who see in the revival a setback to learning. Educators have told us that the great revival of 1825 did serious disservice to the advance of schooling. Why learn if you can be saved by a simple verbal formula about Jesus Christ? Also, traditionally, revivals have been one of the convenient forms of relief for monotony and misery.

Basically, the main criticism of religion in Madison Square Garden is its low-grading of human beings like your family and my family, like you and like I. We aren't miserable worms. Of course we are far from perfect beings, or anything approaching perfection. But, are we growing together, as persons who seek salvation together. We know not what the final answer may be, and we find it arrogant, presumptuous, even bigoted, to assume that persons can be saved by an individual religious experience, while others will suffer eternally.

In the early centuries of the Christian church when the so-called "barbarians" were being converted, this same deadly doctrine was used. Unless one accepted Christian doctrine and baptism, one would burn forever in hell. There was one notable barbarian chief whom I consider a hero. He was prepared to be converted to Christianity. It was the thing to do in those days. Many barbarians were becoming Christians. It didn't interfere very much with their practices anyway. The chief inquired as he started to step into the baptismal pool, "are my ancestors, the noble Frisians, in Hell?" The priest said, "Doubtless. Of course they are in Hell; they died without the only saving faith." The chief drew back his foot. Walking away he said, "I will not quit those brave men to join the cowards of your paradise. We will follow the ways of our fathers."

As did that ancient Barbarian chief, many of us draw back when we are told that good, fine persons will burn forever merely because they are not persuaded of the merit of a single branch of the Christian faith. Furthermore one can say that this individualistic doctrine of salvation takes no account whatever of the social forces operating in history and in our times. Theodore Herzl, one of the pioneer founders of Zionism in Israel, remarked, "whoever wishes to change men must change the conditions under which they live." In this connection, religion in Madison Square Garden seems to fall down badly. It doesn't seem to care under what conditions men live. You remember how Viola, in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night (OR WHAT YOU WILL), (act 2, sc4) "we men say more swear more... for we still prove much in our vows, but little in our love."

This religion of yesterday, which is building Cathedrals of tomorrow, must demonstrate, not in its vows, its vows are many, exciting, and picturesque. But I believe they must prove more in their love. This is confirmed even from such a conservative notable as Very Rev. Francis B. Sayre Jr., Dean of Washington Cathedral. Speaking of Graham's crusade, he said, "It appears to me that he lets those crowds think that all that matters is for each of them to confess his private sins and give his life to God and if enough press forward to let God change their single lives, then by mere weight of numbers, New York, or America, or the world will be redeemed." Dean Sayre went on to say that preachers should face up to such great concerns as racial brotherhood, foreign aid, disarmament, peaceful uses of atomic energy, and immigration, all important subjects which completely escape attention in the flaming sermons of the religion in the garden.

The corner-stone of the doctrine of the religion in Madison Square Garden is an interpretation of a still more ancient myth of religion in another Garden -- the Garden of Eden. The story of the Creation and Fall of Man in Genesis 2 and 3 is the interpretation of pre-literate peoples of the existence of evil and death in the world.

The fundamentalist interpretation is no more a true and relevant foundation for today's opinions about evil, death and suffering, than is the ancient notion that earth was the center of the universe and the sun and planets revolved around it. The ancient Genesis story says that because Man came to a knowledge of good and evil, he thereby sinned, felt guilt, and could be cleansed of this guilt only by the supernatural act of God, coming to earth as Jesus Christ to save man from the sin from which man could not possibly save himself. That is one interpretation (only).

(speigelberger:) - One of the important viewpoints that has resulted from the studies of such eminent scholars of our feelings as Dr. Freud and Dr. Jung is that these myths can be interpreted many ways. Dr. Jung said no great myth has only one meaning, for myths are levers, not dead weights. The myth and dream have this in common, that they can be interpreted many ways. I happen to be one of those who believe the symbolic meaning of the story of the Garden of Eden represents not an evil act of man, but a good act. Isn't it true that one of the most vital things you want your child, or anybody's child, to learn is the distinction between good and evil? The most important part of living together is that each person shall be aware of what is good and what is evil for himself and his fellow men. To say that mankind "fell" when there emerged the distinction between good and evil is to overlook completely the fact that a knowledge of good and evil is the distinction that makes all human society possible. Because man has culture, he has evolved rules of the game, defining that which is good, that which is evil.

Mankind carries a burden of guilt for many reasons. Some of the reasons are obvious, some of them obscure. Of course when we have been trained in a code of behavior, and violate that code, we carry a burden of guilt. When that guilt becomes too heavy, we become ill, emotionally, mentally, physically. But the cure of sick souls doesn't reside in making a spectacular testimony in front of 18,000 people. Rather it is better to be honest with oneself, accept oneself as one is, with faults, guilts but also virtues and hopes and with the ability to replace old burdens with new responsibilities.

In a world where our dreams do not always come true; in a world where certain choices involve omitting things that should be done, we cannot avoid feeling guilty. But this is a human condition, not a theological stain. Because it is a human condition, we must live with it as we must with most of our unwanted feelings. As Mr. Undershaft remarked in the Shaw play, Major Barbara, "you must share the guilt of the world or get off the planet."

There is a third garden in which there can be uncovered the key to a religion that is worth our time; that will help us to love one another even as we face the conflicts of our own selfishness. That is the religion of the garden of Gethsemane. Contrast the picture: in Madison Square Garden, religion is a howling success! It has the approval of the community, the sanction of business, the trumpeting of the press. Whereas in Gethsemane, religion is a failure. Even the handful of disciples are weary and about to desert. One of them is a traitor. This religion does not have the approval of the community, it is condemned by the community. It is revolutionary and the government will soon take swift steps to apprehend the agitator and punish him in the Roman way, upon a cross.

This is a different religion in the garden, is it not? Religion is not so much a revival in Gethsemane. Can you possibly picture Jesus hitting the sawdust trail? Jesus has become vital to religion, not because he revived religion, but because by his life, his conduct, he created a living spirit, a loving tradition that has endured in spite of those who have sought to transform it into a maximum emotionalism accompanied by a minimum of intellectual discrimination.

"The true religion act is itself the asking of a question." Religion is a task, not a solution. Religion in the garden of Gethsemane is one that recognizes the human reality that we do center in on ourselves. But that sometimes the compulsion of our ideals, the examples of great leaders, the demands of our faith, require us to overcome our self-centeredness and find greater reward, more enduring satisfaction in standing true even though the "self" we prize may seemingly be humiliated or destroyed. Religion in the garden of Gethsemane teaches us as it taught Jesus as he prayed that the cup might pass from him, the greater our devotion to people, the greater proportion of their difficulties and burdens we must carry for them.

In the English language we think of the word "good" by our own characters, g o o d. (Huxley) In Chinese ideograph writing, the same idea of good is represented by a combination of the sign for woman with the sign for child. In other words, "good" has a human meaning. It has no relevance apart from those who depend upon each other, trust each other, illustrated by the woman and child, and pictures for us the inter-relationship of human beings, the necessity of associating human beings with ideas. Otherwise the ideas become either barren abstractions or unattractive parody. This is true no matter how powerful the advertising, how picturesque the performer, nor how satisfying the show.

Do you remember one of the great novels of this century, Thornton Wilder's The Bridge of San Luis Rey? Father Juniper, the Franciscan, tries to search out the causes of the strange mystery of the death of five persons who were pitched into the abyss when the bridge collapsed. Different persons with different backgrounds, ideas, morals, and position, they crashed together to sudden death. There is no answer to this mystery of life which describes so well in the several leading characters our human condition. But at the end of the book, Madre Maria, the Abbess says, "even now almost no one remembers Esteban and Pepita, but myself. Camila alone remembers her Uncle Pio and her son. But soon we shall die and all memory of those five will have left the earth, and we ourselves shall be loved for awhile and forgotten. But the love will have been enough; all those impulses of love return to the love that made them. Even memory is not necessary for love. There is a land of the living and a land of the dead -- and the bridge is love, the only survival, the only meaning."

The Beacon of the Wise

May 12, 1957
Akron

One of the more erroneous notions that many persons cherish is the belief that doubt is a negative virtue, if it is a virtue at all. Radio voices, sometimes ominously sepulchral, sometimes merely irritatingly “folksy”, have a habit of ringing the changes on the accepted idea that the doubter lives in anxiety and dies in uncertainty. If only the doubter would have “faith”, we are exhorted, not only would his future be assured, but also his digestion would improve because he would have the “power of positive thinking”, and “every-day in every way he would be getting better and better,”

In my opinion much of this “buck-up-old-boy” philosophy is either nonsense, or is the elevation of the trivial, even though it may be complacently called “faith”. Now while I do not deny that there is at least some value in positive suggestions, in this sermon I want to attempt to state the case for the proposition that doubt can function in a manner which will lead us to a more healthy life and a more satisfactory religion.

In Troilus and Cressida (Act II, scene 3), Shakespeare has Hector say, “

The wound of peace is surety,

Surety secure; but modest doubt is call’d

The beacon of the wise, the tent that

searches to the bottom of the worst.”

As he did so many times, Shakespeare demonstrated amazing insight into human character and the human condition when he called modest doubt the “beacon of the wise.”

As one travels the coastlines of our country, the winking beacons of the lighthouses are picturesque scenery to the land-traveler. To the men who go down to the sea in ships, these beacons are a necessity. In ancient days these beacons were signal fires. As men began to know more about optics and mechanics, great reflectors thrust light out to the deep waters so that mariners might be safely guided. We now live in an age where the beacons are carried by radio on invisible sound waves. Beacons, old and new, serve at least two important functions: First, a warning is given of ledges, shoals, and reefs. Second, the beacons and buoys flash the direction of where we should go – the deep waters which are the channel to the harbor and safety of the pier.

Doubt is a personal beacon. Doubt can indicate where not to go. Doubt also guides us in safer channels of living. It should be noted that “doubt” must be distinguished from a barren skepticism. There is a hackneyed, and quite unfair definition of a religious liberal which goes something like this: “a liberal is one who strongly disbelieves anything that anyone else believes, and has a strong, sustaining faith in he does not know quite what.” While Somerset Maugham may have thought this an accurate description of a liberal, it is the attitude of the dogmatic skeptic, rather than the questioning liberal, who, while entertaining doubts, at the same time wants to grow in understanding and to develop more profound and meaningful values.

The doubt that is “the beacon of the wise,” is the doubt that does not reject beliefs with hostility, merely because someone else believes them. The “beacon of the wise” is the “modest doubt” that clarifies understanding by questioning beliefs that have become dogmas in the mind of the majority. Doubt that seeks truth and understanding will cherish something of the philosophy of Thomas Jefferson (quoted by Phillips Russell, Jefferson, Champion of the Free Mind, p. 145):

“Question with boldness even the existence of a god; because if there be one, he must approve of the homage of reason rather than that of blindfolded fear... If it ends in a belief that there is no god, you will find incitements to virtue in the comfort and pleasantness you feel in its exercise and the love of others which it will procure you. If you find reason to believe there is a god, a consciousness that you are acting under his eye and that he approves you, will be a vast additional incitement.”

Tennyson, you will recall, said that “there is more faith in honest doubt than in half the creeds.” Robert Ingersoll commented, in typical fashion something to the effect that there is more doubt in honest faith than is ever admitted in the ponderous certainties of professional theologians.

Victor Hugo, in Les Miserables, with literary genius, illustrates the positive power of doubt in two conversations with non-believers carried on by the good Bishop Myriel. First, he meets the Count. The Count scorned the God ideas, immortality and religious-ethical beliefs. To him these ideas were below the level of the philosopher-rulers of his great stature. He was quite willing that the great mass of persons should believe in God AND be deprived of the satisfaction of enough food, decent housing and cultural advantages. Religious beliefs would take the place of the bread and butter their stomachs craved. The kindly Bishop dismissed the arrogance of the Count with gentle, but penetrating irony. The Count personified the quality of snobbish shallowness which is quite deadly to the recovery of religious significance. Superciliousness is not only arrogant, but ignorant; not only destructive, but non-productive.

In contrast is the conversation between the good Bishop and the dying, agnostic revolutionist. The old radical had seen his dreams come true, only to see the bright hopes clouded over when the Reign of Terror prostituted the ideals of liberty, equality and fraternity which had sparked the capture of the Bastille and the oath of the Tennis Courts. As his life ebbed away, the old agnostic could look back on an old age which had been punctuated by poverty, and worse yet, he had been rejected by his fellow-men for whom he had given his mind and strength. In spite of such blows, his reverence for life was so profound that, even though the agnostic revolutionist cannot honestly use the name of God, the good Bishop goes to his knees, asking for the blessing of one the church called “atheist.”

Why? There is a spirit of reverence in “modest doubt” which can be considerably more religious than enthusiastic recitation of creeds of ages long-gone.

The story told by Hugo is one of those universal stories, true in any age, warning us of the principal peril that any religion must encounter. There is always the danger that religion will be popular simply because it fails to penetrate the darkened crust of our selfishness. Religion always faces the horrible hazard of being nothing but a protective facade, disguising an inner corrosion; -- hiding the decay of things which are most vital.

Thus, it follows that if doubt is a vital religious process, it cannot function healthfully in a vacuum void of values. If doubt is to be a light of wisdom for us, we must have a place to stand. Otherwise we are like the men described by Henry Drummond, the great preacher of another day. He told of being on an ocean liner halted in the middle of the Atlantic because of failure of engines. Dr. Drummond said he became suddenly aware that if all the 500 able-bodied men on the ship clustered around the smokestack and pushed with all their might, -- the ship would get exactly nowhere – would still be controlled by the winds and currents.

We, too, need a place to stand. Otherwise we will be battered and destroyed by all the cross-currents and contradictions.

There is a foundation for modest doubt. Here are parts of such a foundation. (You might add other components.):

First, question, - even challenge, - any religious institution that separates morality from religious consciousness. The institution of religion is justified if it helps people to live more effectively; if it helps persons to achieve individual and group needs for love, freedom, and belonging to a great cause. When an institution frustrates those basic needs of persons, then modest, but courageous doubt must assert the priority of human values over decayed institutions.

Martin Luther’s “A Mighty Fortress is our God,” has become one of the grand expressions of historic Protestantism. Yet Luther developed his strong and great faith by beginning with sincere doubt. When the ecclesiastical and political nobles were concluding the proceedings at Wurms, they witnessed Luther take his ultimate position on the basis or religious morality. “I can say nothing against conscience, God helping me, I can do no other. Here I stand.”

Furthermore, this stand on morality, rather than institutionalism, must be a person-centered morality. This is a value judgment. The religious institution is but a framework in which people attempt to meet the needs they label religious. This framework is not an end in itself. When the church (institution) becomes more important than the human needs which led to the birth of the church, then it is time to look with doubt on the structure and purpose of this institution. Henry Clay Lindgren cogently expresses this point of view in his recent book, Meaning, Antidote to Anxiety. He remarks, “organized religion can help mankind by providing the place and the opportunity for self-discovery and self-understanding.”

Jesus was a doubter. He doubted the value of institutions when they neglected a person centered morality. There is tremendous impact in Chapter 5 of Matthew. One could describe this chapter as a “person-centered approach to doubt.”

Jesus says, “You are the light of the world.” “You are the salt of the earth.” Starting with these essentials he goes on to list constructive, modest doubts, which can still be “beacons to the wise.” “You have heard it said by men of old, You shall not kill, whoever kills shall be liable to the judgment, But I say to you everyone who is angry with his brother shall be liable to the judgment. You have heard it said ... but I say unto you.” He goes on in the instances of adultery, divorce, false witness, revenge and hate to doubt that the old attitudes are still valid. Why? Because they are not person-centered.

Thus the foundation includes not only religious morality, but also morality that centers in on the needs of persons.

Furthermore, it can be suggested that the “beacon of the wise,” will include the attitude of readiness to face facts and make needed changes. Arnold Toynbee, the historian, said, “But how, I ask you, can one lift up one’s heart and apply one’s mind unless one does one’s best to find out the relevant facts and look them in the face.”

There is a positive value in change which the history of any science, any government, any religion, will supply ample testimony.

The distinguished English actress, Dame Sybil Thorndike is now appearing on Broadway. Recently she was interviewed by a writer for a religious magazine. She was asked if there was any conflict between religious faith and a theatrical career. She answered, “No, there’s no conflict. My acting is really, a confession. I’m a high Anglican, you know, but I quit going to confession. My priest agreed. I said to him, ‘It’s my confession when I’m acting. You have to search in every character for the part of yourself that’s in it. There but for the grace of god ... I might have done that ... You say you don’t like the miracle in the play, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is to be searching. YOU’RE NOT SURE, THEN YOU’RE ALIVE. That’s a negative way of putting it, but its right for our time.’”

The worth of persons and the positive value of change are the foundation of modest doubt. Our religious education series is known as the “Beacon” series. It is well-named in the sense we have been describing. It encourages us to look at people and their religions. The Beacon series asks us to consider ourselves, and our relation to the past and the present. It asks us to be ALIVE by searching.

We must maintain a vigilant attitude of wholesome values, we must search for unfolding truths in intellectual honesty, rather than prudent defensiveness. Changes we must accept, as we accept the changes of wisdom and stature in our individual minds and bodies. Browning said it well:

“Nothing can be as it has been before;

Better, so call it, only not the same.

To draw one beauty into our heart’s core;

And keep it changeless: such our claim;

So answered, never more.

“Simple? Why, this is the woe of the world:

Time, to whose rise and fall we live and die

Rise with it then. Rejoice that man is hurled

From change to change unceasingly.

His soul’s wings never furled.”