The Henson Journals

[8]

Tuesday, June 1st, 1920.

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"What Christ freed us from was not externalism, but its abuse; not the letter, but its oppression of the spirit: not the priesthood, but sacerdotalism: not ritual but ritualism; not the Altar, but the exploitation of the Altar."

Father Tyrrell.

That is true of Christ's teaching to his Jewish contemporaries, but hardly adequate for the Religion which, through His Apostles, He gave to mankind. Lightfoot's opening paragraphs in his famous dissertation give a truer description of that Religion. Catholicism is Jewish Christianity in a modern dress, wonderfully larded with paganism.

The post, for some unexplained reason, was late, so that I did not get my letters until after prayers. Among a number of quite unimportant letters was one "On His Majesty's Service" marked 'confidential', and with the ominous formula "Prime Minister" in the corner. It was what I had been half–dreading, half–expecting for three weeks past. After breakfast, I wrote an answer, &, of course, it was necessarily an acceptance, though probably never did any man go to that throne worse equipped physically, mentally, & morally than will its latest occupant. But if there be any reality in one's belief in Divine Vocation, as the Supreme factor in one's personal life, how could it be anyway possible for me not to hear that Vocation in a summons to such a work?

[9] [symbol]

Ella and I motored into the country and paid three calls. Our way ran through the loveliest & most secluded part of this lovely county ̶ through Byford and Letton to Whitney, then through Eardisley, Almely, and Weobley to Hereford. I have never seen Herefordshire to better advantage. The hills, line upon line, in a blue haze fringing meadows radiant with daisies & buttercups intersected in all directions with hedges covered with may. Everywhere the profusion of colour was amazing ̶ laburnums, rhododendrons, broom, roses, peonies in full bloom ̶ a prodigal spectacle. And I am to leave all this for the endless succession of grimy pit villages, which make up the county of Durham! From a personal point of view what have I to gain by going again to the North? There is, of course, the distinction of sitting in that famous chair, & coming into that great succession: &, in quiet times, this would mean much. But with Revolution knocking at the gates, it signifies little indeed. The coal–field with its turbulent population will be one of the danger centres when the Revolution does come: and I am not the man to yield or to be ignored. It is difficult to imagine a more unenviable position than that which will be held by the Bishop of Durham when the economic crisis which we have been preparing, actually breaks out. My old notion of a violent death in street rioting which haunted me curiously when I was Vicar of Barking may come to be translated into fact after all. These are depressing thoughts which my great "preferment" suggests!

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