The Churches have been an easy target for the critics for a very long time. There are some admirable gibes at them in early literature, gibes which must have been enjoyed greatly when their cleverness was fresh. They are a little worn and faded now. It is astonishing how quickly criticism of the merely negative kind grows old and outworn. The churches are still at work in the world, although, according to many clever people who confidently prophesied that they had no future, they ought to have been dead long ago. But if the church goes on, so do the critics, and they have done a lot of talking during recent years. Neither their diagnoses nor their remedies agree but perhaps that is too much to expect. Variety is the salt of life.
But there is as great a difference in the spirit of different critics as there is between their opinions. One kind of criticism comes from the mere spectator. It is often clever and pointed, but it is spoilt by its superficiality. It does not intend anything except to win a reputation for a smart saying or a pungent jest. Criticism of that kind is valueless for any serious purpose. I happened the other day to be present at a match in which two famous clubs were engaged. It was a keen contest, with skill and resource shown equally on both sides. Behind me stood a man of generous proportions, smoking a cigar which suited his stature, and all through the match his remarks revealed him as an infallible authority on the game. He could tell you all the mistakes of the players. His flow of opinions never ran dry. He was smart and witty. But he was behind the ropes, and I very much doubt whether even when he was slenderer he had been an active sportsman. A good deal of the criticism passed on the church is of that order. It comes from behind the ropes. It is clever, and has an air of infallibility about it, but when one considers that it is passed upon people who have really tried to do things, and have made some sacrifices to do them, it is seen in its true light.
But there is another kind of criticism of an entirely different quality. It does not come from outside, and it aims at something higher than a cutting verdict crystallised into a clever phrase. There are many people to-day who are very much concerned with the purpose the church has in view, but who are deeply dissatisfied with the current forms of religious life. They want to see things altered, and they are prepared to take a hand in the work. This feeling is widely shared among the younger and keener members of the churches. They are not content with the limitation commonly applied to religion, namely, an influence on individual character. Any ideal of life must have social implications, and a message which concerns itself with God, and man, and the world cannot be imprisoned within any narrow boundaries. The water-tight compartment conception of religion is rejected by all thinking people to-day, because it reduces its meaning and robs it of reality. Of what use is it to preach on Sundays an ideal of human dealings and relationship which cannot be applied through all the days of the week? A Christian conception of life must either be workable or not, and if it is not, then the most honest thing to do is frankly to confess that it is impracticable, and to set it aside as a practical guide for the world.
But the policy which the modern spirit rejects as unreal is to affirm belief in principles without making any sustained attempt to apply them to present conditions. That is the crux of the religious situation at the moment. The new spirit is at work in two main directions. It is first of all enquiring into what are the fundamental principles of the Christian ethic, and at the same time it is trying to find some way of relating those principles lo the problems of the world. It is asking questions about the conduct of industry, the difficult questions of sex relationships, the thorny problems of war and peace. It may not be possible for the churches to agree altogether on debatable matters like these, but it is all to the good that the attempt should be made. At all events, the modern spirit has no use for a religion which cannot be applied in daily life, just as the modern spirit has no use for a false romanticism in literature and art, which is remote from the actualities of human experience.
In this attempt to apply religion to many debatable problems of ordinary life the outside critic can at least be asked to spare us from merely negative criticism. The tasks of humanity are common to all men, and it is an urgent demand on every serious man and woman to-day to find the clearest light they can upon them. The world problem is not like a professional match in which some people play the game and others watch it from a distance. Every citizen is engaged in the game himself, and while criticism may rightly be passed upon solutions which are superficial and panaceas which are merely paper programmes, humanity cannot afford to ignore or stand aside from any serious attempt to find the secret of a higher life for the individual, or inner social order. The church has been a target for long enough. The time is surely ripe now for a wider co-operation of purpose in the interests of the welfare of the race.