of organized religion we are bound to admit that in
thousands of rural parishes, and in many towns too,
it is still possible to grow from infancy to old age
as a member of church or chapel without once receiving
any first-hand teaching on the powers and needs of
the soul or the technique of prayer; or obtaining
any more help in the great religious difficulties of
adolescence than a general invitation to believe, and
trust God. Morality—that is to say
correctness of response to our neighbour and our temporal
surroundings—is often well taught.
Spirituality—correctness of response to
God and our eternal surroundings—is most
often ignored. A peculiar British bashfulness
seems to stand in the way of it. It is felt that
we show better taste in leaving the essentials of
the soul’s development to chance, even that
such development is not wholly desirable or manly:
that the atrophy of one aspect of “man’s
made-trinity” is best. I have heard one
eminent ecclesiastic maintain that regular and punctual
attendance at morning service in a mood of non-comprehending
loyalty was the best sort of spiritual experience
for the average Englishman. Is not that a statement
which should make the Christian teachers who are responsible
for the average Englishman, feel a little bit uncomfortable
about the type which they have produced? I do
not suggest that education should encourage a feverish
religiosity; but that it ought to produce balanced
men and women, whose faculties are fully alert and
responsive to all levels of life. As it is, we
train Boy Scouts and Girl Guides in the principles
of honour and chivalry. Our Bible-classes minister
to the hungry spirit much information about the journeys
of St. Paul (with maps). But the pupils are seldom
invited or assisted to
taste, and see that the
Lord is sweet.
Now this indifference means, of course, that we do
not as educators, as controllers of the racial future,
really believe in the spiritual foundations of our
personality as thoroughly and practically we believe
in its mental and physical manifestations. Whatever
the philosophy or religion we profess may be, it remains
for us in the realm of idea, not in the realm of fact.
In practice, we do not aim at the achievement of a
spiritual type of consciousness as the crown of human
culture. The best that most education does for
our children is only what the devil did for Christ.
It takes them up to the top of a high mountain and
shows them all the kingdoms of this world; the kingdom
of history, the kingdom of letters, the kingdom of
beauty, the kingdom of science. It is a splendid
vision, but unfortunately fugitive: and since
the spirit is not fugitive, it demands an objective
that is permanent. If we do not give it such
an objective, one of two things must happen to it.
Either it will be restless and dissatisfied, and throw
the whole life out of key; or it will become dormant
for lack of use, and so the whole life will be impoverished,
its best promise unfulfilled. One line leads to
the neurotic, the other to the average sensual man,
and I think it will be agreed that modern life produces
a good crop of both these kind of defectives.