The period of the Civil Wars and the Commonwealth marked a turning point in the development of the English people. With the insight that comes from historical perspective, we can see that the Glorious Revolution of 1688–1689, the accession of a new dynasty in 1714, the American Revolution of 1776, and even the defeat of Napoleon at Waterloo in 1815, were to a considerable degree influenced by the significant events of the period 1640–1660.

The subject I have chosen for my Address tonight is the present plight of Church History, its causes, and a possible cure. It is an old story. Thirty years ago, the late Professor H. M. Gwatkin wrote:

Church History has not always had a bad name in England. It was as respectable as any other till it was covered with reproach by the partizanship and credulity of the Tractarians. Whatever service they did by calling attention to the subject was far outweighed by the scandal of their uncritical methods and unhistorical dogmas. The reproach is not yet done away, for the literature with which the successors of that school have flooded the country is little better than a dream. Its writers often have their merit; but their fundamental dogmas compel them to set aside the plainest facts of history and human nature. So the outsiders who take their ideas of the subject from its professed experts are still too much inclined to set it aside with sarcastic politeness, or by way of reaction to rush into excesses of scepticism.

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.

The influence of the Lollard movement on the Scottish Reformation was pointed out by John Knox in the sixteenth century; and in the latter part of the nineteenth century the same point was stressed by the Historiographer Royal for Scotland, P. Hume Brown. Yet in spite of such illustrious advocacy, with one or two minor exceptions, little attention has been paid to the Wycliffite tradition in fifteenth century Scotland. It has generally been taken for granted that the Lollards were unimportant and possessed little or no influence. When all the information on the movement which we possess, however, is brought together, one cannot but feel that they had a greater influence on their own time than has heretofore been allowed: Not only did the early reformers consider them very important, but today also, in spite of predilections for economic interpretations of history, they must be regarded as one of the important sources of the Scottish Reformation.

The Reformation was the first religious movement which had the aid of the printing press. It was the first intellectual movement in which the printing press had a popular effect. The importance of printing for the spread of the Reformation has long been recognized but there has been little detailed investigation of the interaction of the two great revolutionary developments.

The growing tension between the American colonies and England in the decade preceding the Revolution confronted conscientious colonists with the necessity of making a difficult decision. Pressure to reach a decision was immeasurably increased when friction developed into war. It was relatively easy for some colonists to make up their minds as to whether or not they should remain loyal to the British crown. Those who were called Whigs or Tories recognized no serious problem; political ideals and allegiances, considerations of self-interest, and long standing prejudices united in various ways to make them zealous patriots or ardent loyalists. But these extremists were in a decided minority at the beginning of the Revolution. The majority of the colonists occupied ground somewhere in between; they were conservatives who hoped for a compromise solution of the differences between England and America, or wavered in distrustful indecision, or had no conviction whatsoever in the matter. It would be unjust lightly to prejudge their motives as of necessity either nobler or baser than those of the patriots and loyalists. Particularly unhappy was the lot of those who were unable to reach a conscientious decision either for or against the struggle for independence.

The christianization of the Magyars or Hungarians took place, as an extended process, at the turn of the first millennium of Christian history. This new acquisition to the forces of the Church signified a glorious victory for the missionary zeal that wishfully looked toward the new frontiers of the East. It also saved a nation from the folly of its ways, the end of which assuredly would have been annihilation, as in the case of the Dacians, Huns, and Avars before, in the vast sea of nationalities undulating westward from Asia, “the cradle of nations.”

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.

An important development in 1886 was the interest which the religious forces of the country showed in the problem of capital and labor. It was an interest that was not confined to a few socially minded religious leaders. The religious press, the pulpit and church gatherings showed a deep concern in the relations of workingmen with their employers. It was a natural concern because it was a year of labor unrest that was symbolized in the public mind by the phenomenal growth of the Knights of Labor and by numerous strikes and boycotts.

The non-intrusion controversy in the Church of Scotland grew out of a demand of the evangelical group in that Church that the intrusion of ministers on unwilling congregations be stopped. The patrons, who had been accused of intruding unsatisfactory ministers on parishes, insisted that the presentee must be accepted by the parish unless valid objections were raised to his theology, literary style, or moral character. On the other hand, the more zealous of the Scottish clergy and laity vehemently insisted that the presentee, in addition to possessing those qualifications, must be personally “acceptable” to the congregation. In fact, many insisted that when the presbytery was moderating in the call, the question of the presentee's “acceptability” outweighed all other considerations.

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.