The Henson Journals

[123]

Wednesday, July 4th, 1928.

[symbol]

What is the general impression made by the Archbishop's statement? Probably, among the mass of Church people, there is relief that the "crisis" has been postponed, perhaps averted. Nobody really minds much that undiscipline should continue and develope, for in fact few are inconvenienced by it, and an increasing number know that it provides the only condition of their getting what they want in the churches which they attend. As always, the Archbishop has "a good press", and nothing more can rightly be inferred from the leading articles than the fresh evidence they provide of the personal popularity and remarkable organizing ['diplomatic' inserted above] ability of this aged ecclesiastic. The 'press' has probably led him to overrate his own influence and to underrate the popular opposition to his policy, throughout this prayer–book revision controversy. The more intelligent and considering Churchmen have not failed to perceive the ambiguous and question–begging character of the Statement. They fasten on the "unanimity" of the bishops as stripping it of all coherent meaning. What, they ask, can be its relevance to the actual situation created by the vote of the House of Commons, since the bishops who secured that vote & defended it find themselves free to join with the majority in a protest against it?

[124]

Macmillan told me that he had been in the Temple Church when Barnes preached the Sermon which perturbed some of the Benchers as being patently unorthodox. He said that the impression left on his mind was that only a Unitarian could have preached it. There was much admirable moral teaching in the discourse, and its effect on the candid hearer could hardly be anything but beneficial. Only the distinctively Christian note was wanting. This accords with the impression made on me by the report of a recent sermon in the Abbey in which Christ was referred to as "a Galilean peasant with a flair for spirituality", a phrase which could hardly have been used by an orthodox Christian. Of course, the phrase may have been wonderfully mitigated by its setting, & this I cannot recall; but the phrase stuck in my memory, & startled me. Am I also to become a hunter of hereticks in my old age? I hope not: but the situation of the reluctant persecutor, compelled by his duty to coerce those who quite flagrantly conflict with official beliefs, becomes more intelligible. "Major, Barnes, and Inge are creating a Fundamentalist movement in the Church of England" observed Headlam to me this afternoon: and he may be right. None of the three knows anything or cares anything about the 'pauperes Christi'.

[125] [symbol]

I did not stay long in the Assembly, finding the discussion of Finance interminable & boring beyond endurance. After a vain attempt to see Vernon Storr, I returned to the Athenaeum, and there lunched with my Suffragan. Knight is disposed to acquiesce in the rather humiliating situation in which the Archbishop's statement leaves us: but I find this unacceptable. After lunch, Headlam and I drove to the British Museum, and saw the finds from Ur. They are extraordinarily interesting. Then we went to University College, and looked at an exhibition of his Palestinian finds by Sir Flinders Petrie.

Ella called for me about 7 p.m., and we went together to the Mansion House for the Lord Mayor's Banquet. There was a mighty crowd, a good dinner, and the usual interchange of flattery & platitude in the post–prandial speeches. How I do hate these public functions! Yet attendance at dinners, meetings, and 'functions' must constitute a considerable part of an Archbishop's official life. Even if ^'per impossible'^ the opportunity were given me, could I in cold blood surrender my last years to the unceasing round of make–belief & verbosity? I really don't think I could bring myself to do it. Ella would dawdle and drivel to the last minute of these preposterous fatuities!!