Among the priceless benefits of the ecumenical Christian movement has been an increase of interest in the idea of the church. One result of this has been to throw into light the condition of the thought of American Protestantism on this subject, and thus to accentuate what has been observed, the considerable poverty of this thought. An illustration of this appeared not long ago in the work of an interdenominational commission formed to study “The Nature and Meaning of the Church,” whose documents have not been published. One consideration to which the commission paid particular attention was the effect of the American environment in relation to its main subject on forms of organized Christianity transplanted from Europe, as were most of the American Protestant forms. For this commission there were prepared studies of historical developments in most of the principal American denominations, by members of them. It was a striking fact that only one of these studies said anything about the effect of the American environment on the conception of the church. The writers of these reports were as likely as any men in their respective communions to be interested in this. It was to be expected that they would give attention to it, in view of the inclusion in the commission's program of “The Nature” of the church. But the result was as stated. The writers, except one, had much to say about the effect of American conditions on the organization and life and action of the church, but about doctrine, about the idea of the church—no.

In 1770 John Murray came to America, and in a few years was recognized as the foremost advocate of Universalism in this country. Today he is heralded as the Father of Universalism. The Universalist Church is well aware of its debt to this apostle, but the indebtedness of John Murray to James Relly is not seldom overlooked. Murray claimed no originality for the framework of his theology, and unhesitatingly admitted that his doctrines were those preached and published by his Welsh friend whose acquaintance he had made several years before coming to America. When the news of Kelly's death reached Murray, he wrote that his “reasons for attachment [to Relly], for homage, were similar to those which actuated Timothy in his devotion to the Apostle Paul,” and although he was constantly drawn into controversy, John Murray held unswervingly to Rellyan theology to the last days of his life.

About 1594 a young English poet, then in his twenty-first year, composed a satire on religion, described by Professor Grierson as “one of the earliest and most thoughtful appeals for toleration, for the candid scrutiny of religious differences, which was written perhaps in any country.” The satire directs its jibes at all men who choose their religion uncritically—whether they blindly turn to Rome or to the Church of England, whether to Geneva, to Atheism, or to religious relativism. The author advises, instead, a diligent searching out of the “right” and the “best” religion. The task, as he pictures it, is a difficult business, demanding of us that we inquire patiently and “doubt wisely”; for the Truth stands at the top of a steep and craggy hill, and only by a most careful circling of that hill can we reach the summit.