of the minister but to his mental and spiritual degeneration, it is obvious that the ministry is a menace rather than a benediction. The whole lake, no matter how sparkling the water may appear, is contaminated if the fountain be impure.

The professional attitude influences the minister's whole life. It warps his definition of honesty. Surely, the most important characteristic of a minister's life should be honesty. He is the spokesman of God, responsible not to man or government or church board, but to God alone. Being an "ordained man," and assuming -as he most emphatically does-that his ordination is "of God," he must speak what God gives him to speak-not half of it, but all of it. "The whole truth and nothing but the truth" must be his motto, from which he departs only at the cost of his own self-respect and the confidence of those over whom he has been placed as "shepherd." But he is not in the ministry long before he comes to understand that there are certain subjects upon which he is expected to preach. His church is founded on a distinct system of theological doctrine. This system he must advocate. In some denominations he is questioned by those in authority as to his fidelity to this part of his work, and if he admits that he has "neglected" it he is reprimanded. The writer recalls one incident which furnished the group of ministers present not a little amusement. A middle-aged minister was being questioned as to family prayers. He had admitted that he did not have family prayers and was being severely reproved with much stinging sarcasm. The official at last, in great exasperation, demanded why the offender did not have family prayers, whereupon that gentleman replied: "Bishop, I am a bachelor." The event, however, is not always so pleasantly terminated. Many a man is frightened by this whip, and consequently defends the dogmas more earnestly than if he believed them.

Other and more subtle forms of control are employed. For example, on one occasion a prominent minister, whose word would go far toward recommending a young and ambitious minister in seeking promotion to a better church, rose in an official gathering to make a report as a

delegate to a national convention of the denomination. After vigorously condemning the trend of ministerial thinking, he concluded his report by saying: "If I had my way about it, I should not permit any young minister to read any book on theology published within the last fifty years!" The writer could not refrain from asking himself what would have happened if these words had been used by a medical doctor in an address to his fellow practitioners. Doubtless, the speaker would have been driven from the platform with laughter. In this case he took his seat amid hearty applause, though a few sly winks were exchanged in his clerical audience.

The minister is even more rigorously controlled by his "flock." Does he have people in his congregation who own stock in a sweat-shop or in a concern which employs child-labor? Will he speak against such forms of inhumanity when he remembers that his salary depends upon the liberality of the individual who owns that stock? Well, perhaps; but when he sits in his study and thinks of his wife and children and their immediate needs, will there not be a tendency to rearrange the sermon so that it will not offend that particular individual? "Oh, there are so many other topics on which you can preach; why speak on that at all?" Such was the answer that a brother minister gave the writer. Suppose that one of the most liberal supporters of the church was the daughter of a man who had made his fortune as the proprietor of a distillery. Wouldn't there be a tendency to speak softly on that subject, though one might wield a big stick on all other topics? Imagine a minister's predicament in Tennessee during the Scopes trial. Would he be likely to advocate the freedom of investigation and the possibility of the validity of the theory of evolution while he looks into the faces of his leading members and realizes that to a man they applaud the action of the Tennessee legislature? Well, he may be that honest, he may follow the divine leading and speak forth boldly the convictions of his mind, but if he does, let him have his grip packed before he preaches the sermon. However, the probability is that he will begin to rationalize his position. In this art of

rationalization the preacher is a past master. It will not be disputed that the minister, at the beginning of his career, wants to be honest. He is an idealist whose conscience lashes him into honesty. He detests subterfuge and evasion. But he is not long in the profession before he realizes that forth-rightness is impracticable. At once the conflict between these two opposing forces compels him to discover reasons which are only camouflaged excuses. His position is tolerable only by that worst form of dishonesty-dishonesty with one's self. His situation is well illustrated by a conversation which I heard not long ago. Two very sincere ladies were discussing the question of racial equality. Both of them expressed belief in racial equality. One, however, candidly admitted that when she entered a crowded car and came to a seat occupied by a colored person she passed on further to find a seat with a white person. Admitting that such an action was inconsistent with her theory, she said: "Now you, I suppose, would sit with the colored per

"Oh, no," returned her companion, "I wouldn't; but I have figured that out. I assume that the colored person would be as much embarrassed as I would, and so, to save her feelings, I would go on to sit with a white person."

Obviously, that is a case of rationalization, but not more so than that of the minister who once said to me: "I don't believe in the Genesis story of creation, and neither do I believe in the story of the virgin birth; but it would confuse my congregation if I were to say so. For their sakes I say nothing as to my position on such questions."

Perhaps this position might be laudable if we were living in primitive times, but evidently that preacher has forgotten to observe the fact that books and magazines are filled with questions, that high schools and colleges are asking questions, and that the theatre and motion-picture are asking questions, and that 95 per cent of his congregation are affected by these various agencies. Of course, the position. of the preacher is not laudable at all because he is not really thinking of his congregation. He is thinking of his payenvelope and of the effect that his public

espousal of liberalism would have on his "continued usefulness in the ministry." In addition to the control of his brother ministers and of his congregation, the preacher is subjected to a community control which forces him to be professional despite his desire and determination. Let us assume that a man enters the ministry determined to elude the critics by avoiding altogether those subjects which would bring him into conflict with those who hold different opinions. Let us also assume-though it is almost impossible for one who knows the ministry from the inside to make such an assumption—that he is able to keep clear of doubtful doctrines, as well as escape the control of his superiors and his congregation. He preaches a gospel which save for its negative attitude satisfies his convictions. He refuses to become entangled in the current controversies. He stands nobly for social justice, that is, in an abstract sort of way, for to stand for social justice in any positive manner would mean inevitable conflicts. He cannot, of course, hold the student spirit; for that, too, would introduce conflicts which he has determined to escape, but he follows a sane and helpful ministry which, if it is not enlivened by the spirit of investigation, certainly is enhanced by the absence of controversial preaching. Has he freed himself from the charge of insincerity? Has he avoided professionalism? Not at all, for he will be understood as standing for those things which he fails to preach about unless he bluntly denies them, which, of course, he cannot do without confronting the very thing he has determined to be free from. Since conservative theology is accepted as the background of the orthodox churches, he will be understood as holding all that conservativism teaches unless he denies, and denial will bring him at once into trouble with the authorities. The minister is a professional, inevitably. He cannot have the distinction of playing the game for love of the game. He takes money for his playing and cannot avoid. the stigma of professionalism.

The professional attitude of the minister springs out of the ceremony through which he is introduced to his work. He believes himself to be "called of God" to preach. This idea was suggested to him

when he was a boy. His parents, probably very good people who have been unconsciously influenced in their desire for the son's welfare by the social status a minister occupies in the community, have encouraged the boy to "give himself to the Lord's work." He has been fed on the idea that he is separated from others in some mysterious manner. He enters the seminary with a superiority complex. The "call to the ministry" is different from all other calls. It is a divine setting apart. He is not simply a man endowed with teaching ability, devoting himself to religious teaching. He is different. The elaborate ceremony of ordination completes the process of creating a different kind of being, a sort of infallible being intrusted with the magic word that opens to him the eternal verities that remain mysteries to all but those who have felt the "laying on of hands." The possession of this knowledge is not his because of any superior intellectual powers or because of deep spiritual experiences or unusual evidences of wisdom, but because he has been admitted into the sacred rites of ordination. He is an "ordained man." He looks upon himself as specially favored of the Almighty, God's interpreter to men less fortunate. He feels keenly the distinction and resents contradiction. He has become the standardized product of theological training, a dogmatist. From his pulpit, thereafter, he speaks by special sanction. He is a divine oracle and speaks on any subject with equal assur

ance.

this class consciousness prevents the minister from coming into intimate contact with those he would like to help. They have temptations which he has never met and with which he knows not how to deal. They have struggles into which he cannot enter. Behind his study doors he applies to these struggles his doctrinaire treatment, thinking that he is offering some valuable assistance to burdened souls. In fact, he is only serving up a new dish to his appetite for self-glorification. His ordination and the professional attitude it creates disqualify him as a genuine minister to humanity. Let him get out of his cleric's robes. Let him take off that high vest and back-buttoned collar. Let him escape from his position of cloistered security, and by the sweat of his brow earn his bread, dependent, as other men are, upon the economic condition for the continuance of employment. Let him face the challenges of every-day life away from the shelter and the sweet protection of his profession. In short, let him come into contact with the hard, stern life of the world where men reckon achievement and worth otherwise than in terms of belief in ancient shibboleths. Then he will know the problems of life in such a way that whatever advice he offers and whatever sympathy he gives will be straight to the point and eagerly listened to. But then, too, he will probably be less inclined to give advice, less inclined to preach and more disposed to recognize the inevitable limitations of human nature. All this first-hand knowledge of life is denied him as a minister. As a preacher he says to the discouraged man: "The Lord will provide." As an outsider he will discover that the Lord is a mighty good provider when provisions are not needed, and that when they are needed it is a pretty good plan to forget the obligation of the Lord to provide for his elect, and get out and dig. The Lord's provision for his elect is not so obvious to the man in the street as it appears to be to the man behind the pulpit.

doubt that there are a few who by reason of favorable conditions are able to maintain control of themselves and be exponents of the highest ideals. Men who are financially independent and who are socially sympathetic may have that freedom and courage that will enable them to strike deep and let the chips fall where they may. But few, indeed, are thus situated. The financially dependent man is at the mercy of his masters. He will be either a professional or a bolter. And since the vast majority of ministers are economically dependent, the majority will sink into professionalism as man's remote ancestor sank back into the water. That was a rare and fine spirited beast that first elected to risk itself on land. He was the ancestral spirit of Jesus, of Hus, of Gandhi.

It is my observation that the ministry divides itself into two classes: the one class obviously professional but quite unconscious of the fact; the other, cognizant of the danger, constantly harassed by it, and struggling against it with but little assurance of victory. There is a third class which recognizes the influences as too deeply intrenched to be overthrown. These, a growing number but still a very small minority, are gradually leaving the ministry in order to attain a position of intellectual and spiritual freedom. They are seeking a chance to be honest and to serve human needs without

endangering their own mentality and spirituality-a chance to be, first of all, men, then ministers, ordained by no imposition of clerical hands, but ordained by an urge to fellowship with others, like themselves, humble seekers after "the light and the truth." They are not ceasing to be ministers; they are ceasing to be professionals. They are refusing to continue an alliance with any institution which requires, either publicly or secretly, a vow to believe to-morrow what they believe to-day. They are demanding the right to study spiritual life as carefully and as frankly as the scientist studies the wrigglers in a jar of slime or the constellation in the grand arch overhead. They are willing to affirm neither theism nor atheism as a settled question. They regard the matter as a quest. They refuse to think of religion merely as a restraint. They insist that it is an adventure.

Such a ministry, liberated from the entanglements of antiquated formulæ and freed from the control of economic dictation, is bound to supplant and destroy the fossilized forms which corrode the soul of the idealist, not by fighting over those forms but by forgetting them and looking away to the hills whence another day's sun is lifting its glow, and by bringing to the hungry human soul the dear assurance of a real kingdom of brotherhood among men.