LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
 
 AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 
 
 IN MEMORY OF 
 
 STEWART S. HOWE 
 
 JOURNALISM CLASS OF 1928 
 
 STEWART S. HOWE FOUNDATION 
 
 B 
 
 G36832:l
 
 a 
 memoir 
 
 of 
 
 happy years
 
 a memoir of happy years 
 
 1916 • 1953 
 
 E. ASHLEY GERHARD 
 
 CHRIST CHURCH, WINNETKA, ILLINOIS
 
 The author in 1916
 
 -3 
 
 ;^ o ^ o o a, I 
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 X HIS is not a history of Christ Church, Winnetka. Nor is it 
 intended to be in any important degree an autobiography. What 
 I have attempted to do, and all I have attempted, has been to recall 
 in writing something of what went on in the parish during the 
 thirty-seven years of my rectorate, various characteristic incidents 
 that occurred, certain personalities with whom it was my good for- 
 tune to have been most closely and helpfully associated and who 
 played particularly important parts in my Winnetka ministry, and 
 to expose my thinking and elements of my personal conviction that 
 underlay and motivated my pastoral, as well as my teaching and 
 preaching, ministr>% while it was my God-given privilege to serve 
 as Rector of Christ Church. 
 
 They were exciting and cataclysmic years in the life of the 
 Nation and of the world. Their span covered three great crises, 
 namely World War I, the Great Depression, and World War II. 
 They confronted the Christian Church with problems, responsibili- 
 ties and opportunities of vast significance and importance. Herein 
 is the story of how one Christian congiegation undertook to meet 
 and respond to the challenge of that era. 
 
 I should be less than gracious were I to fail to express to the 
 present Rector of Christ Church my warm appreciation of his action 
 in asking me to write up this story. For it was in response to the 
 urgent and generous request of Dr. William S. Lea that the task 
 was undertaken. Nor can I fail to make known my gratitude to 
 Mrs. Ethel B. Doolittle, who provided me with much material out 
 of the archives of the parish to supplement my faulty memory; to 
 Mrs. Hilpa S. Wood, to whom I turned for a great deal of docu- 
 mented information regarding the Churchyard development; and 
 to Mrs. Bernice T. Vander Vries and Mrs. Mary R. Wilson, who 
 placed in my hands valuable material relating to The (iuild. With- 
 out their valued assistance what I have written would surely have 
 been both inaccurate and incomplete. 1 pass it on for whatever use 
 Dr. Lea and his people may decide to make of it. 
 
 There is one omission in iny story that to some, jx'rhaps to 
 many, may appear curious and possibly unwarranted. With one or 
 two exce])tions, there is no mention of our rectory family, of the
 
 life within our parish home, and especially of the part — and indeed, 
 it was an important and vital part — that my Dorothy played in my 
 Winnetka ministr5^ There is a reasonable explanation of this. Many 
 clergymen need, and fortunately receive, the energetic and active 
 sharing of their ministry by their wives. Many parishes expect such 
 sharing by the wives of their rectors. I happen to be so constituted 
 that, while I was involved in my pastoral and administrative activ- 
 ity, it was invariably a total, and not infrequently an exhausting, 
 involvement. For this reason it was a matter of compelling im- 
 portance that, when I came away from the parish and returned to 
 our rectory home, I should find myself in an environment of com- 
 plete change, relaxation and rest. Only so could I be assured of the 
 nervous, mental and physical restoration that was required. For 
 this reason — and it was a matter about which we were both in 
 complete agreement — Dorothy never held an official position in 
 any of our parochial activities. Nevertheless, she was deeply in- 
 volved in everything that I thought and said and did. She took her 
 place and constantly played her full part as a loyal and devoted 
 member of the congregation. She labored unceasingly in The Guild. 
 She and I were in every real sense co-workers. She was always by 
 my side and, without her never-failing sympathy, understanding 
 and support, my efforts would have been inadequate indeed. 
 
 E. A. G. 
 
 Manchester, New Hampshire 
 May, 1963
 
 CHAPTER ONE 
 
 The Call 
 
 OTRANGELY ENOUGH, I had never heard of such a place as 
 Winnetka, Illinois. It was strange because, as I was later to learn, 
 there were at that time living in Winnetka three members of the 
 Class of 1906 of Princeton University, all intimate friends of mine 
 from my college days who, with their respective families, were to 
 be members of my new congregation. All I knew about where they 
 lived was that it was somewhere out there in the Middle West near 
 Chicago. I mention this because, as will later appear, it was to 
 have an important bearing u})on my pastoral ministry as Rector 
 of Christ Church. 
 
 It was Palm Sunday, April 16, 1916. I had completed my three- 
 year apprenticeship in the Missionary District of Wyoming. Since 
 September, 1912 I had been Minister-in-Charge of St. Andrew's 
 Church, Baltimore. Situated in the northeastern section of the city, 
 St. Andrew's actually held parochial status in the Diocese of Mary- 
 land with its own vestry but, because the members of the congre- 
 gation were all people of very limited means, for Avhich reason the 
 stipend of their pastor was paid in part by the Vestry of Emmanuel 
 Church, St. Andrew's was regarded as a chapel of that important 
 down-town parish, and I was there by the appointment of the 
 Rector of Emmanuel, Dr. Hugh Birckhead. 
 
 I was completely devoted to those underprivileged and gen- 
 erally impoverished people. Almost everything they had by way of 
 social opportunity outside of their meager homes they found in our 
 Parish House. Never before or since have I known a people who so 
 appreciated what the Church had to offer and who were so respon- 
 sive to its ministry. Once before, after my first nine months as 
 Rector of St. Andrew's, I had been invited to become Rector of one 
 of the wealthy suburban parishes of Baltimore. The call was rejected 
 because I could not persuade myself that it was God's will that I 
 should at that time leave those people, for whom I cared so deeply.
 
 I finished our Palm Sunday morning service. As I stood at the 
 door of the church, greeting the people as they left, I was ap- 
 proached by two men whom I had not previously noticed in the 
 congregation. They introduced themselves as Mr. Mcllvaine and 
 Mr. Elting, Vestrymen of Christ Church, Winnetka, Illinois. They 
 informed me that the Rector of their parish had recently resigned 
 to become Rector of St. Peter's Parish, Chicago, that Mr. Mcllvaine 's 
 wife had recently heard me preach at a Lenten service in Emmanuel 
 Church, that they had come east to look me over and, if sufficiently 
 impressed, to ask me if I would consider a call to the rectorate of 
 their parish. My immediate reaction was again to refuse. Again I 
 couldn't bear the thought of leaving a people to whom I was so 
 affectionately committed. But this time I was confronted by a 
 changed situation. Now there were two children in our rectorj^ 
 family. The environment within which they were to grow, the 
 contrasting educational advantages of such a community as Win- 
 netka, made a difference. All this must now be given serious 
 consideration. My answer was, "Yes. If the Winnetka vestry were 
 to extend to me a call on their recommendation, it would be given 
 prayerful and possibly favorable thought." 
 
 I am reminded of the young parson's son, whose father had 
 received a call to another parish and who met up with one of his 
 friends and was asked, "How about it? Is your father going to 
 accept that call?" "Don't know", was the reply. "Dad's saying 
 his prayers. Mom's upstairs packing the trunks." 
 
 Under date of April 26, 1916, I received a letter signed by 
 George Higginson, Victor Elting and William B. Mcllvaine, serving 
 as a committee of the Vestry of Christ Church, stating, "At a 
 meeting of the Vestry of Christ Church, Winnetka, held on Thurs- 
 day last, April 20th, we were instructed to invite you to come to 
 Christ Church as our Rector." Subsequently, I received a copy of 
 the minutes of that Vestry Meeting with a covering letter signed 
 by Samuel A. Greeley, Clerk. 
 
 So it was that I resigned my post in Baltimore and accepted 
 the call from Christ Church. On June 19, 1916, I wrote the follow- 
 ing letter to the members of my new congregation :
 
 My Dear Friends: 
 
 The relationship between a pastor and his people in its 
 most real meaning is like no other relationship in human life. 
 It contains elements which all others lack. It possesses a value 
 and a significance that are to be found nowhere else. 
 
 I have been made particularly aware of this fact during 
 the past few weeks. For it is when we are about to part with 
 that which we love that we best understand its meaning and 
 most accurately estimate its worth. 
 
 It was so, you will remember, during the closing days of 
 the Master's association with His friends. All the beauty and 
 intimacy and eternal significance of their three years together 
 then found their full expression. It has been so too during 
 these past weeks, when I have been approaching the end of 
 my pastorate in Baltimore. I am sure that never before did I 
 fully realize what our association meant until the time came 
 when I must leave these people to go to you. 
 
 Now all that is behind me, and I am thinking only of you. 
 And you will understand, I am sure, why I want to write you 
 now, just before I go to you. For I feel that everything in our 
 future together will depend upon how we now enter our new 
 relationship, upon what we now expect of one another, upon 
 how thoughtfully we regard the experience upon which we 
 now embark. 
 
 I want you always to require of me my very best. I want 
 you ever to hold up to me the highest ideals of my pastorate 
 and priesthood. For what I shall be to you will be very largely 
 of your making. And I want particularly our common rela- 
 tionship now at the beginning to be in your minds, as I assure 
 you it will be in mine, the .sacred thing that I am convinced 
 God intends it to be. 
 
 For this reason, I am asking every communicant member 
 of Christ Church to attend the service and receive the Sacra- 
 ment at either 7:30 or 11 o'clock on the morning of July 
 2nd next. 
 
 So at the beginning we shall start together with the Master,
 
 when together we shall meet Him at His Table. It will mean 
 more to us all throughout the years of my ministry to you 
 than we can now appreciate. 
 
 Faithfully yours, 
 E. Ashley Gerhard 
 
 So it all began. How little did I realize when I wrote that 
 letter that the years of the ministry to which I was referring would 
 stretch out to number almost thirty-eight! How far short I fell 
 from a full comprehension of the joy with which they were to 
 be filled!
 
 CHAPTER TWO 
 
 By Way of Background 
 
 J\ FEW WORDS must here be inserted to provide something 
 by way of an historical background for my story. In the early 
 days in Winnetka there lived on Sheridan Road at the corner of 
 Humboldt Avenue a Mr. John Garland and his family. An Eng- 
 lishman and a devout churchman, he had built on the southeast 
 corner of his property a small frame chapel, in vi'hich he and his 
 family worshipped and the use of which was offered to "any Chris- 
 tian body". To the north of the chapel were buried the bodies of 
 Mrs. Garland, a son and a daughter. In the year 1876, his children 
 then having married and moved away, and knowing that his days 
 were numbered, Mr. Garland deeded the property to the Rt. Rev, 
 William E. McLaren, Bishop of Chicago, and to his successors in 
 office. The gift w^as gratefully accepted by Bishop McLaren, to 
 be held in trust for the congregation of Christ Church. 
 
 Through the ensuing years, services were held sporadically in 
 the chapel by various clergymen who drove out from Evanston 
 until October, 1897, w^hen the Rev. Henry G. Moore arrived to 
 assume his duties as Minister-in-Charge of what was then Christ 
 Church Mission. The congregation grew and flourished under Mr. 
 Moore's godly and consecrated administration until, in January, 
 1904, it was admitted into the Diocese of Chicago as a self-support- 
 ing, independent parish. Some years later, during my rectorate, on 
 the death of Mr. Moore a stone tablet was placed on the wall to 
 the left of the altar as a memorial to, and to bear permanent testi- 
 mony to, the Christian service of that godly man. 
 
 In December, 1903 occurred the tragic Iroquois Theatre fire 
 in Chicago. In the audience were Mrs. Emilie Hoyt Fox and her 
 three children, all of whom lost their lives. Mrs. Fox was the 
 daughter of Mr. and Mrs. William M. Hoyt, devoted members of 
 Christ Church. The following year, Mr. and Mrs. Hoyt came to 
 the Rector and Vestry of the parish with an offer to build a new
 
 stone church, to replace the Garland chapel, as a memorial to their 
 daughter and three grand-children. The offer was accepted on May 
 23, 1904. During one of their many travels in England, the Hoyts 
 had visited Canterbury and there had found what impressed them 
 as the most beautiful village church they had ever seen. It was 
 St. Martin's, the oldest parish church in the English-speaking world, 
 with a record of continuous Christian witness that stretched back 
 to the 6th century. Now, they decided, that lovely church in Eng- 
 land must be duplicated as their memorial in Winnetka. Forthwith, 
 they sent Mr. William A. Otis, a well-known and highly-skilled 
 architect who lived in Winnetka, to Canterbury; there to study 
 St. Martin's and to prepare his plans for the new Christ Church. 
 In due time all was ready for construction to start. The little frame 
 chapel was moved bodily from its location, south on Sheridan Road 
 and Maple Street, west across the railroad tracks to a lot on West 
 Elm Street, where today it stands, greatly remodeled, as the house 
 of worship of what is now known as the Winnetka Bible Church. 
 
 On November 12, 1905, Bishop Charles P. Anderson came out 
 to Winnetka to consecrate the new Christ Church. Over the altar 
 was placed a beautiful stained-glass window, given by Phelps and 
 Landon Hoyt in memorv^ of their sister. On the wall behind the 
 altar, at a somewhat later date, was set an equally beautiful oil 
 painting of the Christ, for which an English artist was commis- 
 sioned by Mrs. Hermon B. Butler. The chimes in the tower were 
 donated by Mrs. Phelps Hoyt to memorialize her husband, who died 
 tragically in an automobile accident sometime after the consecra- 
 tion of the church. And still later, the Houghteling memorial 
 window was placed at the east end of the church to commemorate 
 the Christian life and service of Mr. James L. Houghteling, an 
 outstanding churchman and warden of the parish. 
 
 Mr. Moore resigned his rectorate in 1907 to become a canon 
 of the Cathedral in Chicago. After a short locum tenens ministry 
 of five months of the Rev. George Forsey, the leadership of the 
 parish fell into the hands of the Rev. Homer W. Starr. He was 
 succeeded in 1912 by the Rev. Frederick G. Budlong. And then 
 in 1916 I arrived.
 
 CHAPTER FHREE 
 
 A Personalized Ministry 
 
 HROUGH THE YEARS, ever since my seminary days, there 
 has been a clear and persistent distinction in my mind between two 
 contrasting types of Christian ministry. For want of a better or 
 more adequate terminology, I have thought of one as the ministry 
 from above-down, and of the other as the ministry from within- 
 out. The obvious exponent of the first of the two is the ministry 
 that is practiced in the Roman Church. The minister is the priest. 
 He is commissioned, ordained, set apart, and he lives on a level 
 above those to whom his ministry is offered. He wears a distinctive 
 uniform. That uniform is the mark of his difference. Neither he 
 nor those to whom he ministers shall ever forget or disregard the 
 fact of his difference. The second is generally characterized by 
 the ministry of the Protestant Churches. There, the life and daily 
 activity of the minister is closely and intimately identified Avith 
 the living experience of the people whom he serves. The more com- 
 pletely he shares that experience, the more helpful and effective 
 his ministry is. He operates from imthin that common experience. 
 Both types prevail wdthin the structure of the Episcopal Church. 
 The High Churchman or Anglo-Catholic and the Low Churchman 
 or Evangelical each has his distinctive and important part to play. 
 But, as I fashioned my thinking regarding my own ministry, there 
 came to be no doubt in my mind as to which of the two comes 
 closest to the way Christ ministered to the people among whom 
 He labored and served. I chose that way. 
 
 I was glad that I arrived in Winnetka in early June. It 
 meant that, with the activity of the various parochial organizations 
 suspended through the vacation months, I could fill my days and 
 evenings with calling in the homes of my new congregation, meeting 
 and coming to know my people. By September 15th, I succeeded 
 in ringing the door-l)ell of every home in the parish. It was a rich 
 and heart-warming experience. By the time the strenuous labors 
 of the fall and Avinter months arrived, the people of Christ Church
 
 and I had at least made a start towards establishing that close, 
 pereonal contact and relationship for which I so greatly yearned, 
 and upon which I had determined my ministry in Winnetka was 
 to be established. Of course, there was something of importance in 
 my favor. Those three men, my Princeton classmates to whom I 
 have already referred, were already my close friends. To me, they 
 were Don and Mervin and Fred. To them, I was Ashley. With 
 them and their families, the relationship was already accomplished. 
 Through them, and as a result of their generous welcome, a similar 
 contact was made with their friends. The use of the Christian names 
 was quickly and naturally achieved. 
 
 There were delightfully amusing incidents that occurred during 
 those first summer months. I shall recall just one of them. I 
 stopped my car one afternoon at the curb in front of a home 
 where, of course, I was completely unknown. Alighting, I started 
 to walk up the long pathway that led from the street to the front 
 door of the house. When I reached half-way, the lady of the house, 
 upon whom I was making my pastoral call, opened the front door, 
 saw me as I approached, and called out, "Oh, I am so glad you 
 have come. I liave been waiting for you. My car is in the garage. 
 It has a flat tire. Please go around and change it!" I said, "In- 
 deed, I shall be glad to change the tire of your car. But firet, 
 may I come and shake hands with you? I am your new rector." 
 Greatly embarrassed, she apologized for her unhappy mistake, wel- 
 comed me into her lovely home, and we sat dovm in the livingroom 
 from which a stairway led to the upper floor. We had hardly 
 begun our conversation when one of the loveliest two-year-olds 
 I have ever seen, aroused from her afternoon nap, unclad as she 
 had been when she was born into the world, descended the stairs 
 with her clothes in her arms, solemnly placed them in my lap and, 
 with an unmistakable expression in her dark blue eyes, informed 
 me that she would like to be dressed. Of course, over her mother's 
 protests, I performed the solemn ceremony. All in all, it was a 
 highly successful pastoral call. When I left that house, I was no 
 longer an unknown stranger; contact had been established; a rela- 
 tionship of precious potential had been firmly based which was to 
 flourish and bear rich fruit throughout the years of my Winnetka 
 pastorate. Years later it was my joy to stand at the altar of 
 Christ Church and unite that child, now grown into quite as 
 
 8
 
 beautiful a young woman as she had been as a two-year-old, descend- 
 ing that stairway, in the bonds of Holy Matrimony. 
 
 This use of the Christian names, naturally and spontaneously 
 expanding through the yeai-s as an expression of a growing and 
 deepening pei-sonal relationship with the people of the congrega- 
 tion, was something that I both encouraged and treasured. But in 
 a diocese in which the title Father was expected if not actually re- 
 quired as the proper form of address, it was rank heresy. What- 
 ever my own feelings in the matter might have been, whenever I 
 was referred to or addressed in diocesan contacts it was always 
 "Father Gerhard". At first it annoyed and distressed me. As time 
 went on I gradually became accustomed to it, although it was 
 something to which I never quite accommodated myself. However, 
 the problem was finally solved some years later, when I was awarded 
 an honarary D.D. by Rockford College. Now the choice was no 
 longer between Mister or Father. Whatever may have been the 
 diocesan misgivings with respect to the use of the term Mister, 
 when addressing or referring to a priest of the Church, there were 
 none in connection with Doctor ! 
 
 I must here recall a strange and interesting experience that 
 I had in connection w'ith one of Bishop Andei-son's annual visita- 
 tions to the parish. Again and again through the years, the Con- 
 vention passed a resolution appropriating funds to provide an 
 automobile and a chauffeur for the Bishop s use. Every time the 
 action was taken, he refused to accept the decision of the Conven- 
 tion, declaring that he would not have a car as long as there was 
 one of his missionary priests for whom such provision had not 
 been made. Consequently, on the occasion to which I now refer, 
 he came out to Winnetka from his home on Chicago's South Side 
 on the North Shore Electric. Following the morning Confirmation 
 Service in Christ Church he was invited, with Dorothy and me. 
 for luncheon in the lovely home of Mr. and Mrs. Raymond Durham. 
 Ijuncheon finished, I announced that I was going to drive him in 
 my car back to his home. He protested, and I insisted. Finally he 
 agreed with my proposal and we were on our way. For a long 
 time, as we drove south on Sheridan Road, he was very quiet. Not 
 a word was spoken either by him or by me. I thought that he 
 was tired and just wanted to relax and rest. Presently, as we were 
 passing the Northwestern University campus in Evanston, 1 glanced
 
 out of the corner of my eye and, to my amazement, there were 
 tears on the Bishop's cheeks. I drew to the side of the road, stopped 
 the car, turned to him and said, "Bishop, why the tears?" Here 
 is his answer: "Do you know, I would give anything in the world 
 to have what you have ! " I was dumbfounded, stunned ! Here 
 was a man whom I had come to look up to, to respect, and to admire 
 more than any other person I had ever known. Toward him I 
 had acquired something in the nature of hero-worship. What could 
 he possibly mean? What could it be that I had and that he either 
 desired or lacked? I said, "Wlw, Bishop Anderson, I can't imagine 
 what you are thinking about. You have everything. What can it 
 possibly be that I have and that you wish you had?" He said to me, 
 "I sat all through that hour at the Durhams' luncheon table, and 
 I listened. I listened as they called you Ashley and Dorothy, and 
 you called them Raymond and Eleanor. It was all so natural, so 
 friendly, so spontaneous. What wouldn't I give to have with the 
 people to whom God has sent me to minister the kind of relationship 
 that the use of those names implies. In all my life — and I am an 
 old man — there have been just three people who have ever called 
 me 'Charles'!" 
 
 Of course, it was all a matter of native temperament. Bishop 
 Anderson was endowed by birth with the type of temperamental 
 reserve that so generally characterizes the Canadian. He found it 
 difficult, possibly embarrassing, to give outward expression to 
 emotion. To many people, he was stern and cold. That afternoon, 
 as he and I drove into Chicago, I discovered a man who, whatever 
 may have been his outward expression and manifestation, was 
 possessed of a heart that yearned for warmth that might be both 
 given and received. 
 
 10
 
 CHAPTER FOUR 
 
 A Ministry to the Community 
 
 0<) IT ALL BEdAN. But there was something in that com- 
 munity to which I had so recently come that distressed me. Win- 
 netka in 1916 was a village of some 4500 population. It was growing 
 rapidly. People of every Christian communion were moving in, 
 there to establish their homes. If they were Roman Catholics, 
 Father Hearth up on Tower Road would take care of them. Con- 
 firmed Episcopalians would naturally enough gravitate into Christ 
 Church. Congregationalists would of course find their places in 
 the Congregational Church on Lincoln Avenue. But what about 
 the others? There were only these three churches in Winnetka, 
 %vith the exception of a small Scandinavian congregation on West 
 Elm Street, to minister to the increasing population. No Presby- 
 terian, no Baptist, no Methodist or Lutheran, or churches repre- 
 senting the various other Protestant communions. Was I to be 
 willing to confine my ministry exclusively to confirmed Episco- 
 palians? That was the practice and policy of Christ Church at 
 the time of my coming. The doors were wide open; but it was 
 made clearly understood that if people of other Christian com- 
 munions were to be admitted into membership and were to receive 
 the full ministry of the parish, it was conditioned upon their 
 confirmation. 
 
 That was a policy to which, because of deep conviction, I 
 could not subscribe. Mine must be a whole ministry to the whole 
 community, without respect to previous ecclesiastical association. 
 I had read and studied the Gospels and I believed that I had come 
 to know something of the spirit and purpose of the ministry of 
 Christ. My ministry must be patterned after His. I had read St. 
 Paul and was aware of his strong injunction : "Let this mind be 
 in you which was also in Christ Jesus". It was simply impossible 
 for me to envision that Mind ever thus expressing itself: "Come 
 unto me, all ye upon whose heads have been placed the hands of 
 a bishop in the sacred rite of Confirmation". His was an unlimited 
 
 11
 
 ministry, offered to all who needed what He had to give without 
 restricting reservations. Of course I was not unaware of the rubric 
 at the close of the Order of Confirmation in the Book of Common 
 Prayer, which states that "none shall be admitted to the Holy 
 Communion until such time as he be confirmed, or be ready and 
 desirous to be confirmed". But I had long ago been taught, and I 
 believed, that that ruling, when it was originally introduced into 
 the Prayer Book of the Church of England, later to be transferred 
 into the Book that we now use, was never intended to be applied 
 to adult members of other Christian bodies, of which at that time 
 in England there were none. It meant simply that children, grow- 
 ing up in the Church, were not to receive the Holy Communion 
 until such time as they had been confirmed. Every time I stood 
 at the altar and celebrated the Holy Communion, I was reminded 
 of the fact that Christ's Church, His mystical body, is "the blessed 
 company of all faithful people". Is an adult baptized member of 
 the Presbyterian Church not a "faithful person" and a fully consti- 
 tuted member of the mystical Body of Christ? Or a Baptist or a 
 Methodist or what have you? No, in this parish throughout the 
 days of my ministry here, Confirmation shall be a priceless privilege 
 that is offered and should be cherished; it will never be a require- 
 ment or a condition to which a person who desires that total min- 
 istry must submit. The Communion Office itself makes unmistakably 
 clear the three conditions of admission to the altar rail, by which 
 every person, confirmed or unconfirmed, shall examine himself: 
 (1) Do you repent you of your sins? (2) Are you in love and 
 charity with your fellowmen? (3) Do you intend to lead a new 
 life? These, and only these, will be required. 
 
 Thus my total ministry was opened to "all sorts and conditions 
 of men". The adopted practice was printed and published in our 
 parish bulletin. It was gratefully accepted by many. Interestingly 
 enough, the vast majority of those who enlisted in our congregation 
 in response to the invitation, soon after their admission, of their 
 owTi volition came to me and asked that they be confirmed! I firmly 
 believe that this action, taken in the summer of 1916, was most 
 largely responsible for the increase of the communicant member- 
 ship of Christ Church from 406, which it was in 1916, to something 
 over 1500, which it had become when I retired in 1953. 
 
 Of course, what I did was in direct conflict with the established 
 
 12
 
 policy and practice that prevailed in the Diocese of Chicago. One 
 of our bulletins drifted into the hands of an irate parishioner of 
 another parish and was sent by him to the Bishop of the Diocese. 
 Bishop Anderson was one of the tinily great men of the Church. 
 That I already knew. I still think of him as one of the greatest 
 and most deeply spiritual personalities I have ever known. He 
 called me into his office. He said to me, "My son, I don't approve 
 of what you have done in Winnetka. I couldn't and wouldn't do 
 it myself. But you are Rector of Christ Church. For what you 
 do in that parish you, and you alone, are responsible. If this bul- 
 letin that I have received represents your true feelings and con- 
 victions, as I believe it does, so be it." On that subject, I never 
 heard from him again. 
 
 An example of the results of this policy came to light not 
 many months after its announcement. It happened on a Sunday 
 morning at the 11 o'clock service. I noticed in the congregation 
 a woman whom I did not know, sitting in a pew with two young 
 girls and an elderly man. As they left the church after the service, 
 she introduced herself as a Mrs. Randall, said that these were her 
 two daughters and hor father, and gave me her address on Walden 
 Road. She went on to say that they had recently moved to Winnetka 
 where they expected to make their permanent home, her husband 
 having accepted a position with the Inland Steel Company, that 
 her father was Senior Warden of a parish in the northern peninsula 
 of Michigan, and that she and her daughters would of course be 
 members of our congregation. But, she continued, her husband was 
 quite as strong a Presbyterian as she was an Episcopalian, his 
 previous experience with the Episcopal Church had been rather 
 unhappy, and, because there was no Presbyterian Church in Win- 
 netka, he would of coui-se affiliate with the Congregational Church. 
 
 A few days later (it was Washington's Birthday) I was driv- 
 ing south on Walden Road and found myself at the Randall resi- 
 dence. "Perhaps", I said to myself, "that resolute Presbyterian is 
 home. I shall see." I stopped my ear, walked up to the front door, 
 rang the bell. Sure enough, there he was. He invited me into the 
 house, we sat down in the living-room, and talked. I said, "Mr. 
 Randall, I met your wife in church last Sunday and she told me 
 that, in terms of church interest and affiliation, you are a divided 
 family. I want to tell you that there is no necessity for that unfor- 
 
 13
 
 tunate condition to prevail here in Winnetka. You can be a member 
 of the congregation of Christ Church, receiving the complete min- 
 istry of our parish, and remain a Presbyterian till the end of your 
 days. All you need to do is to bring me a letter of transfer from 
 the church to which you now belong." He was startled and sur- 
 prised. He said that he had never heard of an Episcopal parish 
 in which such a state of affairs existed. "However, that is how it 
 is here. Think it over", I replied. "If you want to share the full 
 life of this parish, receiving with your wife and daughters every- 
 thing we have to offer, it is yours for the asking." "By 'every- 
 thing' ", he said, "do you mean that, without my being confirmed, 
 I may receive the Holy Communion in your church?" "Exactly", 
 was my answer. "In this parish. Confirmation is a precious priv- 
 ilege that is offered. It is never a condition or a requirement to 
 which one must subscribe." 
 
 So I left the Randall home. The following Sunday, and week 
 after week through the following months, the Randall family sat 
 together in the pew (I can see them there as I write these words) 
 half-way down on the south side of the church. The following 
 spring, I announced the start of our adult classes for Confirmation 
 instruction. As I always did, I invited non-Episcopalians, who 
 wished to learn more about the ways and teachings of our com- 
 munion, to attend these classes with the definite understanding 
 that by such attendance they would not be committing themselves 
 to Confirmation. Mr. Randall accepted the invitation. A few days 
 before the Confirmation Service, he came to me and said that he 
 had decided that he would feel more definitely a part of the parish 
 to which he now belonged if he were confirmed. And confirmed 
 he was. There is no doubt in my mind that, if that man had been 
 told on his arrival in Winnetka that he could share the ministry 
 of Christ Church only if and when he was confirmed, the Randall 
 family would certainly have remained divided in their church 
 affiliation, the parish would never have received the invaluable 
 service of Clarence Randall that it was later to receive, and that 
 his life would not have been enriched, as I have every reason to 
 believe it has been enriched through the years and is being enriched 
 today, by his association with Christ Church. 
 
 There were many such incidents. For the purpose of my story 
 I shall relate only one. 
 
 14
 
 It was my custom in those days to receive every Monday from 
 a friend of mine in the Water Department at the Village Hall a 
 listing of the houses in the community in which water meters had 
 been installed during the previous week. In this way I was kept 
 regularly informed of new Winnetka arrivals and it was my respon- 
 sibility to see that every door-bell represented on those lists was 
 rung each week before the following Saturday evening. In this 
 way, I arrived one evening at the home of a Mr. and Mrs. Gren- 
 ville Davis. There I met the Davis family — father and mother 
 and their two young children, Peter and Sarah. They had just 
 moved from New York City, where they had been closely and 
 actively identified with the Riverside Church. There, Mr. Davis 
 had ushered at the Sunday services and for years they had listened 
 to the eloquent preaching of Dr. Harry Emerson Posdick, who was 
 probably the best known and most gifted preacher in the United 
 States. This aroused my special interest. I thought of it as some- 
 thing in the nature of a challenge. Could I with my meager preach- 
 ing ability hope to cope successfully with what these people had 
 been accustomed to? However, I told my story and issued my 
 invitation. 
 
 The following Sunday, Sarah and Peter were enrolled in our 
 Church School and Mr. and Mrs. Davis were sitting together in 
 our congregation. Their attendance continued with regularity week- 
 after-week. The following spring, they heard my announcement 
 regarding the classes for adult instruction, with my usual assurance 
 that attendance at these classes would not commit those attending 
 to Confirmation. They enrolled, attended the classes regularly, and 
 were confirmed. 
 
 When our Church School was about to open the following 
 September, we were desperately in need of teachers for one of our 
 boys' and one of our girls' classes. My thoughts turned inevitably 
 to Mr. and Mrs. Davis. There were the two I was looking for. One 
 evening I went to their home, was ushered in and the three of us 
 sat down. I told them of our need of Church School teachers. With- 
 out a great deal of persuasion, they accepted the assignments. In 
 all my ministry, I have never known more consecrated or more 
 competent Church School teachers. They ran away with the job. 
 
 A year or two later I had another, an even more difficult, 
 problem to solve in connection with our educational program. The 
 
 15
 
 choir-boys, who at that time sang at the 11 o'clock service, were 
 not enrolled in the Church School classes, that met in the Parish 
 House, because of the difficulty of transporting them after their 
 class sessions to the church in time for their vesting before the 
 service. Therefore it was arranged to have them meet in their own 
 class in the basement room of the church. For sometime, the teacher 
 of this class was George Getgood. George was a genius with boys. 
 He was Director of Community House and a member of our con- 
 gregation. The boys sat spellbound under his teaching. But now 
 he had resigned his post at Community House and moved to Okla- 
 homa. His place had to be filled. My thoughts immediately turned 
 to Grenville Davis. "But what shall I teach them?", he said when 
 I put it up to him. "Those boys range in age from 8 to 14 or 15. 
 What can I possibly offer such a group that would hold their 
 attention and do for them what George Getgood has been doing 
 so well?" "Tell them about St. Paul", I said. "Help them to know 
 St. Paul as the massive Christian figure that he was. There are 
 books in my library that tell the story. I shall give them to you 
 and you will come to know him not as a stained-glass saint, but 
 as a great Christian disciple who can be admired and emulated 
 today." Under Grenville's leadership that class became something 
 that I am sure those lads, now grown to manhood, have never 
 forgotten. 
 
 Since my retirement, Sarah and Peter have married and are 
 living with their rapidly growing families out on the West Coast. 
 Grenville and Kathryn have moved from Winnetka to make their 
 home in Barrington, Illinois, where Grenville is a vestryman in 
 the newly-formed Episcopal parish in that community. 
 
 16
 
 CHAPTER FIVE 
 
 A Diocesan Maverick 
 
 1 WAS ALWAYS a maverick in the Diocese of Chicago, and it 
 was my own fault. I was never able to release myself from the 
 background of my past experience and training. Born and bred in 
 Grace Church, Orange, New Jersey, raised under the spiritual 
 guidance of Dr. Alexander Mann (later the distinguished Rector 
 of Trinity Church, Boston), who was succeeded by Dr. Charles 
 Walkley, from my earliest years I was committed to the evangelical 
 tradition. My three years of theological training at the Cambridge 
 Seminary only served to deepen and strengthen that commitment. 
 
 My first experience in the convention of the Diocese of Chicago 
 stamped me as the odd-ball that I was to remain throughout the 
 years of my canonical residence in the Diocese. How can I ever 
 forget it! As I sat in my seat as a member of the delegation from 
 Christ Church, Dr. John Henry Hopkins, at that time (as I remem- 
 ber it) the senior priest in the Diocese, out of the goodness of his 
 great heart rose to his feet, gained recognition from the chair, and 
 proceeded to address the Convention somewhat as follows: "Gentle- 
 men of the Convention, it gives me great pleasure to welcome and 
 to introduce to the assembled delegates to the Convention of this 
 Diocese the new Rector of Christ Church, Winnetka, Father 
 Gerhard." Here was something shockingly new and strange in my 
 youthful experience in the priesthood of the Episcopal Church. 
 Never before had I heard that title applied to me. Before I was 
 actually aware of what I was doing, I was on my feet addressing 
 the Convention. My address, short and to the point, was somewhat 
 as follows : "I am grateful, indeed, for the kind and generous words 
 of welcome and introduction of our good friend. But I am impelled 
 to say this to the Convention of the Diocese. There are just two 
 persons in all the world who have the right to call me Father, and 
 1 don't see either of them here!" 
 
 It was a brash, crude response to a generous gesture. But it 
 
 17
 
 sened a purpose, however understandably impulsive it may have 
 been. It left no doubt in the minds of those who were there as to 
 who and what I was. The Diocese of Chicago, even then in the days 
 of the beloved Bishop Anderson, was solidly committed to the High 
 Church, Anglo-Catholic tradition. With equal solidity, I was an 
 incurable, unrepentant Low Church evangelical. There were a few 
 of my clerical brothers in the Diocese who were in agreement with 
 me, but we were an increasingly small minority. As new mission 
 stations were established, in every instance the clergymen who were 
 brought in to be placed in charge of the newly-organized congrega- 
 tions were invariably hand-picked with reference to their Anglo- 
 Catholicism. Each one of them had the same vote in Convention 
 that I did. The result was that there developed a state of imbal- 
 ance that became increasingly serious. 
 
 Inevitably, I became more and more aware of this unfortunate 
 condition. More and more I became deeply concerned about it. 
 For it meant that we of Christ Church, and the few congregations 
 who were in agreement with us, were invariably out-voted on every 
 question that might be brought up in Convention for decision, in 
 every election, in every committee appointment. We were contribut- 
 ing more to the operating costs of the Diocese and of the National 
 Church than were any other congregations in the Diocese, but we 
 had less and less to say about how those contributed funds were to 
 be used and about where and how they were to be allocated. It was 
 rapidly becoming a condition of "taxation without representation." 
 
 So it happened that I found myself, quite unconsciously and 
 involuntarily, moving in a direction opposite to the established 
 traditions of the Diocese and of the growing majority of my fellow- 
 clergymen. As the trend continued, I arrived at a decision that I 
 had never before contemplated. I must do something to make 
 unmistakably clear my resistance and protest. I must become a 
 marked man. Wherever I should move, whether it be in my parish 
 or beyond my parish out through the Diocese, I must be conspicu- 
 ously what I was. Once and for all, I shed my clerical collarl It 
 must have seemed to many of the people of Christ Church a strange 
 and unaccountable decision that I made. However, just once 
 through all the years was any question or comment made in my 
 presence about it. 
 
 Perhaps there may have been — as a matter of fact, now as I 
 
 18
 
 look back to those days I am sure there was — yet another motive for 
 Avhat I did. There was that ever-increasing number of unchurched 
 non-Episcopalians to whom I have already referred, to whom I was 
 so eager to offer my ministry in Winnetka. As I moved among them 
 I came to realize that in their thinking, a clerical collar most often 
 meant a Roman Catholic priest. Of course, it was a uniform that 
 was also common to Anglican clergymen. But even then, I came to 
 feel strongly that it was a handicap in my ministry to the non- 
 Episcopalians. It was an obstacle over which I had to climb to 
 reach them. So I did it. I didn't really like it. I was conspicuous, 
 and I didn't like being conspicuous. But I was led by what I be- 
 lieved then, and still believe, to have been sound reasoning and in 
 a good cause. Here for the first time, I have undertaken to give my 
 reasons for what must have appeared to many a strange perform- 
 ance. I am glad to take this belated opportunity to express my 
 gratitude to one and all for their forbearance. 
 
 However, there is one fact that I must emphasize as I reveal 
 the differences and difficulties that developed in my relationship 
 with the Diocese of Chicago. However serious they may have been, 
 they were never permitted to affect or interrupt my personal loy- 
 alty to my Bishop — a loyalty which was consistently shared by the 
 people of my parish — nor were they allowed to result in anything 
 in the nature of estrangement from my fellow clergymen, among 
 whom I counted many close and valued friends. Had this not been 
 true, it is hardly likely that, in 1933, I should have been awarded 
 by Bishop Stewart the Distinguished Service Cross — an award that 
 was made at a diocesan gathering each year "in recognition of 
 conspicuous faithfulness and effectiveness as a priest of the Diocese 
 of Chicago". 
 
 As I now think back to those days following the death of our 
 beloved Bishop Anderson, I feel that the thing that caused me most 
 distress was the increasingly immoderate and, I believed, unjus- 
 tifiable assertion of episcopal authority on the part of his suc- 
 cessors. It was evidenced on many occasions and in various forms. 
 
 On one occasion, there came to my office, shortly after V-.I 
 Day, a mimeographed edict issued by Bishop Conkling and ad- 
 dressed to every priest in the Diocese of Chicago, in which I was 
 informed that the "rule" that stated that no weddings should be 
 performed during the Lenten Season, and that had been suspended 
 
 19
 
 during the War, was now to be enforced. I wrote immediately to 
 the Bishop and asked him to let me know where I might find the 
 "rule" to which he referred. His answer referred me to certain 
 books that had been written by three priests of the Church of Eng- 
 land. I wrote again to Bishop Conkling saying that when I was 
 ordained into the ministry of this Church I committed myself to 
 loyal obedience to the Constitution and Canons of the Protestant 
 Episcopal Church and to the rubrics of the Book of Common 
 Prayer; I never vowed to acknowledge the authority of indiscrim- 
 inately-selected priests, who might write their own opinions or 
 convictions. 
 
 Within twenty-four hours. Bishop Conkling was in the rectory. 
 We sat down in our living-room and he said, "My dear friend, 
 you don't understand what I am doing. I am offering you my 
 godly admonition. You must realize what the Marriage ceremony 
 is in the thought of the world and of our modern society. It is a 
 social affair, involving a great deal of parties, dinners, and all 
 that kind of thing. Surely, you must agree with me that there is 
 no rightful place for that in the Lenten Season." "Exactly," was 
 my reply. "That is indeed what the world and modern society 
 would make of the sacramental rite of Holy Matrimony. A social 
 affair. In my ministry, I am at war with the world and modern 
 society for precisely that reason. I cannot and will not yield or 
 give ground, which is what I would be doing if I were to accept 
 your 'godly admonition'. In all my teaching — every time I meet 
 with couples who come to me to be married, as I always do before 
 the ceremony is performed — I try to make clear the distinction 
 between what is commonly known as Marriage and what the Church 
 calls Holy Matrimony. Marriage, as it is known in our modern 
 society and as it is defined in the laws of the state, is a contractual 
 agreement that is entered into by two people by their voluntary 
 action. It is a partnership, which should be but which most often 
 is not a sacred and holy thing. Having been entered into by mutual 
 agreement, by mutual agreement it can be dissolved without dis- 
 honor. To the contrary, Holy Matrimony is a covenant relationship 
 into which two people enter with God. There are not just two — 
 there are three parties to this contract. When a man and woman 
 stand before me at the altar rail and, in answer to questions that 
 are asked, say, 'I will', surely they are not talking to me (I am 
 
 20
 
 acting solely in a representative capacity) nor are they talking 
 to one another. They are addressing God. This is my justification 
 for declaring at the end of the ceremony, 'Those whom God hath 
 joined together, let no man put asunder'." "Now, my dear Bishop," 
 I concluded, "that is why I cannot accept your 'godly admonition'. 
 I can see no more reason why I should not perform the Marriage 
 Ceremony in the Lenten Season than why I should not celebrate 
 the Holy Communion or why I should not exercise my priestly 
 office in the Sacrament of Holy Baptism." And there the matter 
 rested. 
 
 But there was ever the impact of society upon our wedding 
 ceremonies. There was a certain dress-maker on the North Shore. 
 She was exceedingly artistic and very skillful in her profession. 
 Her services were engaged by many of our brides for the design- 
 ing and fashioning of the brides' and bridesmaids' gowns. It was 
 her apparently fixed idea that, at the time of a wedding in which 
 she was involved, she should take over. On one occasion I was in 
 the church to conduct the rehearsal for one of our "fashionable" 
 weddings. There were, as I remember it, besides the bride, groom, 
 maid-of-honor and best man, six bridesmaids and a like number 
 of ushers. Our dress-maker friend was sitting in one of the pews, 
 watching what was going on. When we reached the end of the 
 betrothal, I instructed the bridesmaids and ushers to remain where 
 they were at the foot of the choir steps and the bride and groom, 
 with their two attendants, to advance to the altar rail. Our friend 
 jumped up from her seat in the nave of the church, rushed for- 
 ward, and declared in no uncertain tones, "No. We can't do it 
 that way. They must all go up into the chancel." "But you see," 
 I replied, "our chancel is too small to accommodate so large a 
 number. If they all come forward, the people in the congregation 
 will not be able to see what is going on at the altar rail." "But 
 if they all don't come forward," she said, "the people in the con- 
 gregation will not be able to see the bridesmaids' dresses!" That 
 settled it. There was only one thing for me to do. I said, "I have 
 this one question to ask. Is this to be a sacred, religious ceremony? 
 Or is it to be a fashion show?" The bridesmaids and ushers re- 
 mained where they were at the choir steps. 
 
 21
 
 CHAPTER SIX 
 
 The Mind of Christ 
 
 In HIS LETTER to the Christian people of Philippi, St. Paul had 
 this to say: "Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ 
 Jesus." They are great and meaningful words. The Biblical scholars 
 and theologians have had a wonderful time with them. Which is 
 perhaps all to the good. Out of them they have spun an elaborate 
 theology and we are unwise if we ever allow ourselves to under- 
 estimate the importance of theology. Out of this admonition of St. 
 Paul there has come the important doctrine of the Kenosis. That in 
 turn is closely associated with the doctrine of the Incarnation; and 
 that is the very heart of our Christian conviction. I am sure that 
 St. Paul, who was himself a theologian, would have approved of 
 this reading of his words. But also it would seem that he was most 
 of all interested in impressing upon the minds and hearts of his 
 readers the importance of the primary Christian virtue of Humility. 
 By the consistent practice of this virtue, they were to imitate in 
 their own lives the impulsive action of God in sending his Son 
 into the world. 
 
 The words have always impressed me. They have set my mind 
 as a pastor to thinking how important it is, in all our thought of 
 the Church, of the functioning of the Church, and particularly of 
 the activity of the Church in the developing of a witnessing disciple- 
 ship, that we shall get ourselves back to the Mind of Christ. How- 
 ever important theology is, it is always so easily possible that in our 
 theological speculation the Mind of Christ may be obscured. We 
 must know that the mind of the Church and the Mind of Christ 
 have not always been one and the same, and we would do well to 
 face the fact that they are not always one and the same today. So 
 far are we in disagreement with the claims of the Eoman Church 
 for the infallible institution. 
 
 Surely it should not be difficult for us to recognize the Mind of 
 Christ when we see it. There is nothing complex or involved about 
 
 22
 
 it, as we find it in the Gospel record. He was a simple man talking 
 to simple people. They understood what He was talking about. If 
 we might only get back beyond the elaborations of theological specu- 
 lation — beyond the involvements of ecclesiastical practice and pro- 
 cedure — to the elemental simplicities of the Mind itself! And hav- 
 ing so penetrated, if we might only subject every question concern- 
 ing the thinking and the life and the practice of the Church today 
 to that acid test! 
 
 What is the ]\Iind of Christ with respect to the Church that 
 is His? It is a question of vast importance, especially when we 
 are dealing with the religious education of the child. He is being 
 trained into an experience within the corporate fellowship. If that 
 training is effective, he will one day find his place within that 
 fellowship and the witness that he shall bear will be part of the 
 corporate witness. But will the Church in which he finds his place 
 and within which he functions be the Church as we observe it today, 
 offering, as it does, a partial and ineffective witness most largely 
 because of its unhappy divisions? Surely we may hope for some- 
 thing truer and better than that. Surely we may keep in all our 
 thoughts, as we prepare the child of today for adult membership 
 in the Church of tomorrow, that that Church will more nearly ap- 
 proximate the fulfillment of Christ's own prayer that ''they all 
 may be one". Indeed, we shall fail unless he is now encouraged 
 to make that prayer his own and unless he is taught to think of the 
 Church actually as "the blessed company of all faithful people". 
 
 Therefore — what is the Mind of Christ with respect to the 
 points of difference that keep us Christians apart from one another 
 Avithin the body of the Church? We know what the mind of the 
 Church is. Tradition tells us that. What is the Mind of Christ? 
 Do we dare face that question? It is dangerous — dangerous be- 
 cause devastatingly unpopular. It will not be approved by those 
 whose primary concern is the institution. That was true of Christ 
 Himself, was it not? He found Himself in conflict with the insti- 
 tutionalists. and His daring cost Him His life. And He warned 
 His disciples that their lot would of a certainty be no better than 
 His. So must it always be. What is the Mind of Christ as He 
 thinks about the things that are to be held as true about God and 
 about man and about the relationship between the two? We know 
 what the Church has said and savs. But what about the Mind of 
 
 23
 
 Christ? If we might only restore that to all our thinking! If that 
 might only once become our central concern, much that tears and 
 fractures our tortured world might once for all be driven from 
 our lives. 
 
 I remember sitting in some years ago on a meeting of church- 
 men of varying shades of theological and ecclesiastical thought and 
 conviction. The subject under discussion was, 'Shall we have in 
 the Church of Christ intercommunion before reunion?' May it be 
 wise and right, for example, that an agreement be entered into 
 between the Presbyterian and the Episcopal Churches at the present 
 time, before actual union is effected between these two Christian 
 bodies, so that adult members of the Presbyterian Church might 
 be permitted to kneel at the altars of Episcopal Churches and that 
 confirmed men and women of the Episcopal Church might in turn 
 be allowed to make their communions in Presbyterian Churches? 
 Is this perhaps a step that can be taken now in the direction of 
 the final restoration of the unity of the Body of Christ, for which 
 we all so earnestly pray? Two masterly papers were read, one 
 from each side of the theological fence, and after the reading the 
 meeting was to be opened for general discussion of the subject. The 
 first of the papers started with the premise, "What is the mind of 
 the Church on this matter?" Read it. It is all there in the consti- 
 tution and canons and in the rubrics of The Book of Common 
 Prayer. And what is there is backed up by the historic position 
 of the Church and by long centuries of Christian tradition. It was 
 perfect reasoning. And the logical conclusion was unmistakable 
 and inevitable. The second paper was read. It started with the 
 Mind of Christ. What has He to say about this important matter? 
 The premise established, again the paper followed through with 
 perfect logic, and it arrived at the opposite conclusion. Of course 
 it did ! It had to. If you are consistent and logical, the end at which 
 you arrive is determined by the position from which you start. 
 
 So this is what we are to be concerned with first of all as we 
 deal with the child in the parish. In all his original thinking, the 
 Mind of Christ is to be central. We are to present to him this as 
 the test by which he shall learn to think about life and to measure 
 every decision that relates to life. We are to help him so to know 
 Christ, and we are to introduce him into such an experience of 
 Christ by all that he is told and taught, that the Mind of Christ 
 
 24
 
 will become that which owns and controls his life. "Let this mind 
 be in you." That shall be the acid test. 
 
 It is the night before His death. He has chosen the twelve. 
 He has tied them into Himself with an unyielding and undying 
 devotion. He has brought them through experience into conviction 
 — at least, to a degree of conviction. They have said with one 
 voice, "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the Living God!" He has 
 made clear to them the task. It has been His task. His Father's 
 business, the performance of which has dominated His life. It is 
 now to be theirs. And with it all He has told them what is going 
 to happen tomorrow afternoon. They find it verj- hard to believe. 
 Persuaded that He is God's Anointed One, and retaining as they 
 do the sure conviction of their Jewish tradition, it is difficult indeed 
 for them to give credence to the thought that God would suffer 
 His Only One to see corruption. But now they must believe it. 
 Events have closed in on them. It is true. Tomorrow afternoon He 
 will hang on a cross! 
 
 I wonder if we can visualize the state of mind and heart with 
 which those men faced the inevitable fact. The record tells us that 
 their hearts were troubled. That is putting it too mildly. They 
 were in a state of abject despair. They had so depended on Him. 
 They had been schooled to rely upon His physical presence. Everj^- 
 thing was possible as long as He was there with them. They could 
 have courage and confidence when they could look into His eyes 
 and hear His voice and by physical contact feel the surpassing 
 power of His presence. But now! He is no longer to be there. 
 At least He will no longer be there as they have known Him. 
 Of course He said, "I shall be with you always." But He meant 
 spiritually present. And they were very human; and humanity 
 requires something that can be seen and heard and felt with the 
 hands to be made aware of spiritual presence. And what might 
 they now have to take the place of that of Him that before could 
 be seen and heard and felt, upon which they may now rely and 
 from which they may now derive the power to go on? 
 
 Bishop Anderson used to say that "religion is power that 
 comes to man from God through contact." It is an excellent defini- 
 tion. This is what religion always is. It is a spiritual and moral 
 energy derived from God, without which a man's life cannot be 
 
 25
 
 fully lived — or his problem solved or his questions answered or 
 his burdens borne. And it must be supplied by a man's contact 
 with God. 
 
 During my lifetime, I have known just three men who have 
 helped me to appreciate what the presence of Christ must have 
 meant to those men while He lived with them on earth. One was 
 the teacher of mathematics in the school where I was prepared 
 for college. That was strange, because I was never greatly interested 
 in mathematics. But it wasn't the subject he taught that mattered. 
 It was the man himself. And in my boyish eyes what a man he was! 
 One was the head of the department of English literature at 
 Princeton University. The third taught the New Testament in 
 the Cambridge Seminary where I studied for the ministry-. About 
 each of these three men there was an intangible something radiating 
 from his presence that did something for me. An inspiration, shall 
 we call it? A spiritual invigoration? An energy that flowed from 
 them to me? Who knows? Whatever it was (and I shall leave it 
 to the psychologists to tell what it was) when I was with them 
 what they said and did activated my mind and stimulated my soul. 
 They gave me assurance, confidence, courage. They made me feel 
 that all things were possible. 
 
 One hesitates to employ so human an analogy to suggest what 
 it was that transpired between Jesus and His disciples. But may 
 we go so far as to say that what came into my life from those 
 three men was not unlike what Peter and James and John and 
 the others received from Him? And they were schooled to utter 
 dependence upon it. What now can they have in their lives — 
 what tangible, visible, material thing can be made available to 
 them — from which they may now derive the power to go on? 
 This question in their minds and on their hearts was the occasion 
 of their despair. And the question was in His mind too. They 
 were at the time together in an upper room of a certain house 
 in Jerusalem. As devout and pious Jews, they were engaged in 
 the observance of the most solemn and sacred rite of their ritual 
 performance. It involved the breaking and eating of unleavened 
 bread and the drinking together of wine that had been blessed. 
 Suddenly He had the answer! I have always been very sure that 
 what He now said was unpremeditated and unplanned. It was 
 completely spontaneous. It came to Him in a moment as a flash 
 
 26
 
 from Heaven. He said to those disciples of His, "I tell you what 
 you can have. This is what you can do. Do it — this that we are 
 doing here now. Take bread and bless and eat it. Take wine and 
 consecrate and drink it. Do it together. It has had sacred and 
 powerful meaning for you in your Jewish past as you have done it. 
 It will have more sacred and powerful meaning for you now. 
 Because, as you do it, you will remember Me, what I have meant to 
 you by way of courage and confidence and inspiration and dynamic 
 power. The bread and the Avine will always represent to you My 
 presence — My body and blood. You will remember our days to- 
 gether — the joy of them, the peace of them, the thrill of them. 
 Especially, you will remember the sacrifice I offer that all men 
 everywhere may have life. And you will know that I am with 
 you always, even unto the end of the world." 
 
 The Sacrament of Holy Communion. The Lord's Supper. 
 The Mass. The Holy Eucharist. The Divine Liturg\\ What differ- 
 ence does it make by what name we call it? It is still and always 
 the outward and visible sign by which we may be made aware of 
 His presence, and from which we may derive the power by which 
 we may live. What a tragedy it is that this superbly beautiful 
 and simple thing that He gave them to do has been so ritualized 
 and theologized that we have largely lost the reality and the rich- 
 ness of the thing itself. For that is what has happened. It is all 
 part of what has been well termed the movement away from 
 Christianity to churchianity. The thing that He gave them to do 
 was in His mind not only the Sacrament of Power. It was also 
 to be the Sacrament of Unity and Fellowship. They were so very 
 different from one another, those disciples of His. Different in 
 background, different in perspective and point of view, different 
 in nature and temperament. It was so important to the doing of 
 the task that they should be one in Him, in spite of those differences. 
 And this was to be the place where the differences should be 
 submerged and unity should be found. Strangely and tragically 
 enough, because of what the people of Christ have done with it, 
 it has become the one place above all others where the differences 
 have been accentuated and where, because of the things that keep 
 them apart. Christians of varying persuasions cannot meet! So far 
 have we departed from the Mind of Christ! 
 
 27
 
 But it need not always be so. It may be, indeed it must be, 
 that the child in the parish congregation, advancing into the years 
 of his witnessing discipleship, shall find the parish altar, and what 
 goes on there, the center of everything that pertains to the active 
 life of the parish. For that he is to be taught and trained. To that 
 end all his thinking is to be directed. But it shall be the action 
 at the altar, as it was ordered and directed by the ]\Iind of Christ, 
 so far released from all the theological ramifications that have 
 accumulated about it that its original beauty and simplicity may 
 be recovered. That is our responsibility today. A new generation 
 of witnessing disciples is in process of becoming. Shall they, grown 
 to manhood and womanhood, be able to use this most precious of 
 all the Church's possessions as Christ meant it to be used? Will it 
 be for them both the Sacrament of Power and the Sacrament of 
 Fellowship? 
 
 Here we must emphasize certain things that such effective 
 use of the Sacrament entails. Because the mere fact that it is there, 
 at the center of the parish thought and activity, does not necessarily 
 mean that the disciple can or will make effective use of it. For 
 this he must be schooled. To this all his education in religion 
 within the parish is to be directed. 
 
 1. He must be made aware of the peculiar character of the 
 age out of which we are emerging and of the nature of the age 
 within which he will live and bear his Christian witness. 
 
 For the past many years men have been encouraged to live in 
 disregard of God and without vital understanding of their need 
 of God. Man was himself self-sufficient. He had within himself 
 everything he needed to live by. It was the age of science and of 
 technological advance. By his cleverness and by his wits he had 
 conquered nature and brought the resources of nature under his 
 control. By that same cleverness and by the exercise of those 
 same wits he would live. He would of himself answer all the 
 questions and solve all the problems and carry all the burdens 
 that life might ever fling at him. God was a superfluity. Of course 
 He was there. It was not an age that denied the existence of God. 
 But it was an age that disregarded God. Actually, for all the 
 ordinary purposes of the common life. He was non-essential. Such 
 was the heresy upon which a civilization was built. 
 
 28
 
 But the heresy has been exposed. Two world wars and what 
 has happened since were largely responsible for the exposure. 
 Hiroshima and Nagasaki finished the job. Now we see the dangers 
 that are inherent in the development of the human intellect when 
 it is allowed to increase in its knowing without a corresponding 
 enlargement of man's sense of responsibility for what is done with 
 that which, by his ingenuity, he has brought under his control. 
 The civilization that was constructed upon the theory of man's self- 
 sufficiency is in a state of collapse. We are verj^ rapidly becoming 
 aware of man's need of (xod and of the power that only God can 
 supply wherewith to live. 
 
 2. But it is not only a man's need of God that the child must 
 come to know and acknowledge. It is his own personal need, in 
 terms specific, of which he must become aware. The temptation that 
 is to be resisted, the habit that is to be mastered and overcome, the 
 hard problem that is to be solved, the disappointment and frustra- 
 tion that are to be known and recognized for what they are — this 
 specifically is to be in his mind as he comes to the alter seeking 
 power. He must learn the necessity of so preparing himself before 
 coming that he can put his finger on the thing for which the power 
 is needed and to which it is to be applied. 
 
 How wise the Roman Church has been about this in its efforts 
 to make available to its people the full purpose and meaning of the 
 Mass. Before they come, they are to make their confessions. They 
 are to present themselves to a priest of the Church, make acknowl- 
 edgement of their failures, expose their need in detail, declare their 
 desire. The wisdom of what is done, and the understanding that it 
 involves of how it is that human nature operates, are perfect. We 
 are unwise indeed if, because there is so much in the employment of 
 the confessional of which we disapprove, we fail to acknowledge 
 what there is in it that is of importance and value. 
 
 The child at the time of his Confirmation can know the meaning 
 of this. He can understand the importance of clear understanding 
 of his specific need as he comes to the altar. Say this to him : "When 
 you go home this evening, say to your father, 'Dad, please give me 
 five dollars.' What do you think he will say to you? Listen to the 
 reply. It is certain and inevitable, "What do you want it for?' So 
 it is, my child, that when you come to the altar seeking God's 
 power, God says to you, ' What do you want it for ? ' And you must 
 
 29
 
 be prepared to answer the question. And you will not be so pre- 
 pared unless you have taken time before coming to make yourself 
 ready. Go to the priest if you will, or to some other person who will 
 know and understand. There is an advantage in that. We are so 
 built, we humans, that it helps to tell somebody of our need. But 
 in any event, be sure that you cannot hope to receive from God 
 His most precious and needed gift unless you can answer His ques- 
 tion. You must so make yourself ready that you know and acknowl- 
 edge your need." 
 
 3. There is something else. And it can be best expressed by the 
 single word Regularity. This, too, the child can be made to under- 
 stand. Sound physical health requires regular diet. People do not 
 grow in strength and they do not maintain sound health if they 
 eat their food as and when the thought happens to occur to them to 
 eat. Hunger is an indication of health. Loss of appetite is the first 
 indication of the fact that a man is under par physically. And it is 
 just as true of our spiritual well-being. Was this not what Jesus 
 must have had in mind when He said, "Blessed are they which do 
 hunger and thirst after righteousness " ? If we are wise, we shall see 
 to it that the laws of spiritual health are faithfully observed. A 
 habit will be formed, and the habit will be followed with regularity. 
 In the Prayer Book, the Church lays it down as a bounden duty that 
 the Christian disciple shall worship God every Sunday in his 
 Church. It is more than a duty. It is wise and sound counsel. 
 
 4. There is one thing more. When the disciple engages in the 
 act of worship, especially in the sacrament of Holy Communion, he 
 shall approach the experience in the attitude of Expectancy. It is 
 an event. Something is meant to happen. The worshipper in the 
 pew has come there with need pressing upon his mind and heart. He 
 is a man seeking. Do you remember how Christ emphasized that 
 word "seeking"? And he comes hoping and expecting to find. He 
 is there that that need may be satisfied. He has come with sin on 
 his soul. He has been promised that, on condition of repentance, his 
 soul shall be relieved of that sin. He is there expecting to be freed 
 and cleaned. He has come seeking a fresh vision of Christ. It may 
 be that there and then that vision may be his ! He is there needing 
 and desiring power, power to become, power to become that which 
 God wills that he shall become. He has come uttering a prayer that 
 
 30
 
 that power shall be his. The prayer continues to be uttered through- 
 out the hour of the experience. This is what he is there for. This is 
 what it is all about. Out of his experience he must come with some- 
 thing that will make a difference. And what he gains will depend 
 upon how earnestly and eagerly he seeks. It will depend upon how 
 greatly he expects to gain it. 
 
 How silently, but silently 
 
 The wondrous gift is given ! 
 
 So Grod imparts to human hearts 
 
 The blessings of His heaven. 
 
 No ear may hear His coming, 
 
 But in this world of sin, 
 
 Where meek souls will receive Him, still 
 
 The dear Christ enters in. 
 
 This of course must be true of all who are involved in the act 
 of public worship. It is more particularly something of which the 
 men who are most of all responsible for the services and who are 
 there to conduct them must be everlastingly aware. How easily we 
 drift into a perfunctory performance. If that is what it is to us who 
 lead in worship is it likely that it will be other than a perfunctory 
 performance to those whom we lead ? Just the regular eleven o 'clock 
 Service of Morning Pi-ayer or the customary early service of Holy 
 Communion. It is the kind of thing that happened in the worship 
 experience of the Day family in "Life with Father". Just some- 
 thing that well-bred and well-behaved people do with their Sunday 
 mornings to maintain their respectability. Could anything be more 
 deadly ! Could anything be less likely to produce results in spiritual 
 invigoration and advance ! What it is and what it becomes are 
 mostly largely determined by the attitude of the man who conducts 
 the service. Do we plan our services with thought and care? Of 
 course we do so plan and prepare our sermons and addresses. We 
 spend long hours on them, as indeed we should. But how careless we 
 are about the rest of it. Do we pre-read and study the Epistle and 
 the Gospel for the Day? Do we set our minds to the discovery of 
 new and fresh meanings in the prayers of the liturgy? Those mean- 
 ings are there if we will only take time to seek them. Do we select 
 the hymns with care so that they will fit into and contribute to the 
 central thought that is to be presented with force to the members of 
 the congregation? Or is that left to the choirmaster to attend to? 
 This may be the Damascus road for some member or members of 
 
 31
 
 the congregation who sit and kneel in the pews. Do we approach the 
 experience with that thought in our minds? And is it there as we 
 conduct the service 1 All of which means that we of the clergy must, 
 ourselves, plan and prepare the service, whatever service it may be, 
 in the attitude of expectancy, making ourselves ready for an ex- 
 perience into which we lead our people and from which both they 
 and we shall come with something that we shall have received be- 
 cause we hoped and prayed for it and expected to receive it. This 
 must always be true. 
 
 32
 
 CHAPTER SEVEN 
 
 A Faith Articulate 
 
 JTEOPLE have difficulty with the creeds. Of this I became in- 
 creasingly aware as I engaged in my Winnetka ministry. The 
 people to whom I had been sent to offer a teaching and preaching 
 ministry were often unhappy and always baffled by what they were 
 called upon to say when they stood up in their church and declared 
 their faith. It was something that they had been taught and which 
 they had learned to say by heart when they went to Sunday School 
 as children. It was an essential part of the Church's ritual. The 
 creeds, as they accepted and used them, were historic statements of 
 the Christian faith which had an importance and value in the 
 Christian tradition similar to the importance that is attached to the 
 Bill of Rights and the Declaration of Independence in the life and 
 tradition of the nation. Those great and honored statements serve 
 the important purpose of expressing in words what we as Americans 
 believe, as the creeds express in words what Christian people have 
 believed through the years as Christians. But, as I came to know 
 the people of Christ Church, that wasn't good enough. If they were 
 to use the creeds at all, they wanted to use them as declarations of 
 their own personal faith and conviction and, in most instances, that 
 was something they couldn't do. At least, they thought they couldn't. 
 There were certain of these articles of the Christian faith over which 
 they stumbled. This was the reason for their distress. And this, I 
 came to believe, was a problem to which I had to address myself. 
 
 The main difficulty, as I came to understand and evaluate it, 
 was that most often these troubled people were starting at the wrong 
 end. They had never come to grips with the question that must come 
 first. They were trying to describe the full circle before they had 
 established the center, and that was an impossible thing to do. They 
 were struggling with the secondary before they had settled the 
 primary. They were deeply concerned about certain of the related 
 doctrines of the Church, particularly those that concern the birth 
 
 33
 
 of Christ and His resurrection from the dead and His ascension into 
 heaven, before they had made up their minds about Christ Himself. 
 
 Of course, there was nothing new or exceptional about this. It 
 took Peter and James and John — especially Thomas — a long time 
 to make up their minds. They, too, found it very difficult. It was 
 not hard for them to believe that He was the best and wisest and the 
 most gracious person who ever lived. From the day they first met 
 up with Him, they were ready — almost too ready — to acknowledge 
 that. ' ' Never man spake like this man ' ', they said. ' ' He speaks with 
 a degree of authority of which we were never aware as we listened 
 to others who talked to us about God. ' ' And what they said served 
 to reveal the depth of the impression He made upon them. But that 
 wasn't good enough. It wasn't good enough to satisfy Christ. He 
 had said that He and His Father were one and the same, and that 
 they who had seen Him had seen God. So He had identified Himself 
 with God. At Caesarea Philippi, it would seem that they had almost 
 arrived when Peter, obviously speaking for all of them, declared, 
 ' ' Thou art the Christ, the Son of the Living God. ' ' But the limita- 
 tions of even that openly-expressed conviction, which Christ ac- 
 cepted as the foundation upon which His Church should be built, 
 were exposed when they were put to the test at the time of His 
 crucifixion. It was the resurrection that clinched the matter. This 
 was what finally did it for them. When He showed Himself to them 
 alive by many infallible proofs, when He sat and ate with them, 
 when, after they had watched Him die. He appeared before them 
 and spoke to them of things that pertain to the Kingdom of God, 
 when He said to them, "Reach hither thy fingers and behold my 
 hands, and reach hither thy hands and thrust them into my side, ' ' — 
 then and only then did they make known their full and final con- 
 viction: "My Lord and my God!" And once that final conviction 
 was theirs, all other questions were answered. Their difficulties were 
 over. 
 
 So, I came to believe, it must be with the Christian disciple 
 today as he undertakes to build his faith. That faith must never 
 be permitted to be a mere something that he has inherited and that 
 he unthinkingly recites when he comes into his church to worship. 
 It must become something that he has made his own by intelligent 
 and questioning effort. And the primary question must be faced 
 up to and answered : What think ye of Christ? Whose Son is He? 
 
 34
 
 Once that question has been honestly answered, all else falls into 
 place. Once we are sure that He was and is everything He claimed 
 to be, that they were not false claims that He made for Himself 
 but claims that could be substantiated, that He was actually the 
 Way He proposed and the Truth He proclaimed and the Life He 
 offered — once that conviction has become oure as it was His, then 
 those other questions that seem so difficult will have their answers. 
 
 It is the original venture of faith. Of course it cannot be 
 comprehended, grasped by the human intellect, analyzed, dissected, 
 proved, understood. If that were possible, it would not be venture 
 nor would it be faith. It is true of the building of a faith as it is 
 true of anything else that we undertake. We must start somewhere 
 if we are ever to hope to arrive any^vhere. And here the Christian 
 disciple starts. How could it be expected or hoped that the mind of 
 man could ever comprehend the mystery of God becoming man! 
 But this much may be said : If the records we have are honestly 
 faced and accepted as true records of historic fact, it is easier to 
 believe that Christ was indeed what He claimed to be than it is 
 to believe that He was merely the best and the wisest and the 
 most gracious pei-son who ever lived. For if what He said could 
 not be substantiated and upheld. He was not even a good man. 
 He was a braggart and the victim of self-delusion. His delusion 
 was transmitted to His disciples. Christendom was built on fraud. 
 That would indeed be hard to believe! 
 
 Here then is the base upon which the Christian disciple is 
 to build his faith. Jesus Christ was right, absolutely right. What 
 He said was true, absolutely true. We are dealing with the Mind 
 of Christ, as it was exposed and expressed while He was here 
 on earth and as we find it in the Gospels. He was and is the 
 Unique One, the New Creation, the Chief Cornerstone. What 
 was it that He said and what was it that He held to be true? 
 What was the Gospel of Glad Tidings that He proclaimed about 
 God and about man and about the relationship between the two? 
 Once the answer to that question has been found and accepted, 
 the faith of the Christian disciple rests upon a sure foundation. 
 
 Some years ago I spent a memorable evening with Dr. Edward 
 B. Frost, the blind astronomer. He was universally recognized as 
 one of the great astro-physicists of his day, in spite of the fact 
 that during the last fifteen years of his life he never saw the light 
 
 35
 
 of day. He was the head of the great Yerkes Observatoiy at 
 Williams Bay, Wisconsin, and it was there that I met him. For 
 two wonderful hours one beautiful July evening, he talked to me 
 about his beloved stars. He permitted me to gaze through the giant 
 telescope. We discussed light years, interstellar space, Saturn and 
 Arcturus, the galaxies of the heavens. It all led up to a question 
 that was irresistible. There were young people in my parish, 
 many of them, who were having great difficulty with their faith. 
 In spite of everj^thing that had been done to lay firm foundations 
 during their early years, when they went off to school and college 
 they were being told by their teachers of science that there is no 
 God and that, if there is, He doesn't matter. Christ was a myth. 
 In the world of modern science there is no place for God or for 
 the things of the spirit. I was greatly troubled. Again and again 
 I talked with them, but I was always just the parson talking. 
 And what do parsons know about modern science ! So the irresistible 
 question came out. "Dr. Frost", I said, "you are a scientist. 
 A great and world-renowned scientist. You enjoy a world-wide 
 reputation because of your scientific learning. You speak with 
 authority. You have spent a long lifetime studying the stars. 
 What about your faith? To what conclusions about God have 
 you come as a result of your scientific study and research? What 
 do you believe?" His answer came without a moment's hesitation. 
 "These two things", he said, "I have come to believe, to both of 
 which I have been led by my study of science, of both I am very 
 sure. First, I believe that back of and above and beyond the created 
 universe is a Creator. To believe otherwise doesn't make sense. 
 I cannot accept the conclusion that those stars arrived where they 
 are by and of themselves. Something or Someone must be respon- 
 sible for their being there. That, I believe, is true of everything 
 that has life, and particularly it is true of man. To that that gives 
 life, I give the name of God. Second, I have been led to believe 
 that what is in back of and above and beyond the created universe 
 is possessed of what we call Mind. How else can we account for 
 the order and the precision and the regularity of movement within 
 the created universe? There is law in operation; law necessarily 
 implies a law-giver; a law-giver implies the capacity to think. 
 I can conceive of no other possible or reasonable conclusion. 
 Such, my friend, is my faith!" 
 
 It was something, and a great something, by way of personal 
 
 36
 
 conviction. I was grateful to have it come from such a source. 
 We may well pray that many more of our teachers of science might 
 say the same kind of thing with like assurance and humility. 
 If they did, there would be fewer of our young people coming 
 out of our schools and colleges with minds full of what they don't 
 and can't believe, and there would be many more coming out 
 with positive and affirmative conviction. 
 
 But was it enough? "Would it satisfy the Mind of Christ? 
 Evers- religion down through the years has involved a belief in 
 the kind of God of whom Dr. Frost was speaking. If Christ had 
 offered nothing more than that. He would have added nothing to 
 what had alreadv been brought into the minds and lives of men 
 by many hundreds of other teachers of religion. It would not 
 have been the Good News of Glad Tidings, because it would not 
 have been news nor would it have been particularly good. Christ 
 took it for granted that men believed in Dr. Frost's God. He never 
 discussed it or argued about it or attempted to per.suade men of 
 its truth. He assumed it. But one thing He did that no other 
 before His day had ever done. He gave God a new name. He 
 called Him Father. This was His unique and unparalled contribu- 
 tion to the religious and theological thinking of the race. That 
 new name defined God's nature. It told what God is like. By the 
 use of the title Father, Christ was saying that God not only creates 
 that which lives and that there is intelligence in back of the 
 processes of creation, but that He continuously is concerned about, 
 cares for, loves that which He creates. Such is the very nature of 
 a father. And such was the faith that Christ brought into the 
 world. This is what the Christian of today must mean when he 
 stands in his church and declares, *'I believe in God the Father 
 Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth." 
 
 But even this was not all there was to it. Now He is talking 
 about man as the final achievement of (Jod's creative effort. He is 
 saying that not only does God give man life but that He is continu- 
 ously interested in, cares for, loves man whom He creates, and 
 not just man generally in the abstract but men one by one! Now 
 we are coming very close to the heart of the Glad Tidings. We are 
 His own, and He calleth His own by name! Even in our stupidity, 
 in our selfishness, in our willfulness, in our waywardness, in our 
 sin He loves us. This was Christ's point of greatest emphasis. 
 
 37
 
 About this there must be no mistake. He was determined to 
 drive it in, and He told story after story to make it unmistakably 
 clear. A shepherd has a band of a hundred sheep. One of them 
 is lost. So what? He still has ninety-nine left, has he not? Why 
 be concerned about one lost? Not so God. So greatly does He care 
 about the one that He leaves the ninety-nine and seeks that which 
 has been lost till He finds it. A woman has ten pieces of silver. 
 She loses one piece. So what? There are nine left, are there not? 
 Why be unhappy and concerned about the one? Not so God. 
 He is like that woman who lights a candle and sweeps her house 
 and seeks with diligence until that which has been lost has been 
 found. A father has two sons. The younger of the two, having 
 possessed himself of his patrimony, takes himself into a far country 
 and engages in a career of sinful degradation. But when he returns 
 to his father's house, having come to himself and having achieved 
 a contrite heart, the father is waiting to greet him with a love 
 undiminished. "So greatly does God care for the one", said Christ. 
 "If you would know what God is like, this is it. Such is the worth 
 of the individual human personality in the sight of the almighty 
 Father God." 
 
 What an incredible faith it was. But it was central. And 
 they took His word for it. Upon this original disclosure of Christ, 
 a civilization was built. And for the defense of this central truth, 
 tens of thousands of brave men in our own day have gone out 
 to lay down their lives. For this reason, and for this reason alone, 
 we call the cause for which they fought and for which we are 
 called upon to live a Christian civilization. 
 
 Now let us ask this question : How does love operate? What 
 does it do? How does it function on behalf of the beloved? It is 
 human language that we use and it has its limitations, but it is 
 the only language that we have to use. At least it will help us 
 in our approach to the meaning of the greatest of God's mighty 
 acts in the redemption of man. A man has a friend. He has 
 known him all his life; they grew up together; he loves that 
 friend of his. In course of time the friend moves away and they 
 are separated by years and miles. Word comes to this man that his 
 friend whom he loves is in trouble, serious trouble. It is true of 
 course that what happened to cause the trouble is the friend's 
 own fault. He himself is to blame. No one else could reasonably 
 
 38
 
 be held responsible for it. But that doesn't affect tlie thought and 
 feeling of the man himself. It doesn't alter his love. He is never- 
 theless impelled. Because he loves he must do something about it. 
 He must act. What shall he do? 
 
 It would seem that there are just three possible courses avail- 
 able to him. First, he can write his friend a letter. He can put 
 into his letter all the love he has for him; he can admonish him; 
 he can advise him ; he can and will express his hope and desire for 
 him. The letter is written. It is warmly appreciated. It helps. 
 But it doesn't succeed in changing or saving the friend. Second, 
 he can send to the friend in trouble a person in whom he has 
 confidence, to whom he makes known his desire and hope, who will 
 represent him as his agent or representative. This also is done, 
 and it helps. But the friend is still unsaved. There is just one 
 course still open. It is difficult ; it is dangerous ; it may cost him his 
 life. But because he loves he cannot stop short of the ultimate 
 resource. For surely, it is the surest and most effective thing he 
 can do. Yes, he will do it. He goes himself! 
 
 So it was with God and with His love for men. Man sinned, 
 and all the pain and suffering that were his lot were the result of 
 his sin. He could not save himself. God, because He loved, must 
 act. And the three possible courses were available to Him. He 
 could write a letter, and that He did. We call it the Holy Bible, 
 the Word of God. In written form it is God 's revelation of His will 
 and desire for sinful man. It helped, but it didn't wholly succeed. 
 He could send His agents or representatives to speak and act for 
 Him. This also He did. They were called prophets, and they spoke 
 for God to man. They also revealed to men the will and desire of the 
 loving God, and they too helped. But their coming was at best a 
 partial success. At long last, He came Himself. In the person of a 
 man named Jesus of Nazareth He came, now not just to tell men 
 of God's love, but to make that love known by demonstration. If 
 it be true that "greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down 
 his life for his friends ' ', what shall be said of the Love of God ! It 
 was the surest and truest way by which man might be saved. He 
 came Himself — and it cost Him His life. 
 
 Such was the conviction at which the disciples arrived as a 
 result of their experience of Christ. This was the meaning that 
 
 39
 
 they found for all that He said and for all that He did and for all 
 that He was. In their thinking, He could not be explained or de- 
 fined in any merely human terms. This was why He died. It was 
 God 's way of making His love known by demonstration. It was the 
 Good Shepherd going out into the wilderness to seek and to reclaim. 
 It was God lighting a candle and sweeping the house diligently. It 
 was the Father rushing out to welcome the son who, even in the far 
 country filling his belly with the husks that the swine did eat, was 
 never allowed to be unmindful of the Father's continuing, pleading 
 love. So we stand in our churches and declare, "I believe in Jesus 
 Christ, God's only Son our Lord, who for us men and for our 
 salvation came down from heaven." 
 
 The last part of Christ 's disclosure of who and what God is was 
 reserved for the night before He died. It was then that He com- 
 pleted the picture. We read about it in the Gospel of St. John 
 from the 14th through the 16th chapters. Now the disciples were 
 to know that God is not only He who creates and loves that which 
 He creates, but that He provides to them who will have it the light 
 and the strength and the power by which they may fully live. He 
 is the indwelling, the enabling God. He is God the Comforter. The 
 word as we have it in the text with which we are most familiar is 
 misleading. It was not misleading at the time the King James 
 translation appeared. In our day, to comfort has come to mean to 
 give solace or consolation. The meaning that was in the mind of 
 Christ was so very much more than that. He was assuring His 
 disciples that the loving Father God does not leave men without 
 resources that they need to carry on. He is not a distant, far-away 
 God who is separated from men in time and space. He is God with 
 men and God within men. He is God the Holy Spirit. 
 
 This then was the promise that Christ gave His disciples in the 
 hour of their deepest despair and dismay. "Ye shall receive power 
 — power from the indwelling and enabling God. He will not leave 
 your powerless. He will not withdraw and desert you. Let not 
 your hearts be troubled. Just believe in that kind of God." 
 
 And that promise was fulfilled. On the Day of Pentecost it 
 was fulfilled. Every year we commemorate the great event in the 
 historical experience of the Christian Church on the day we call 
 Whitsunday. We shall not hold the account as we have it in the 
 
 40
 
 Book of Acts to an exact and literal reading. St. Luke, who wrote 
 the record, was using highly symbolic and imaginative language. 
 He was trying to describe the indescribable. He talked about "a 
 sound from heaven as of a rushing, mighty wind" and of "cloven 
 tongues like as of fire that sat upon each of them". All that is 
 relatively unimportant. It doesn't affect the stunning reality of 
 the actual experience. "They were all with one accord in one 
 place". That was important. They were together, as Christ had 
 bade them to be together, knit solidly into the fellowship for which 
 He had made them responsible. They were agog with expectation, 
 waiting for that to happen that He had promised. They believed 
 with all their hearts that what He had said must come true. And 
 the Spirit came into their lives, to make everything possible to 
 them and, through them, to the world! 
 
 Such was the faith that the disciples gained through their ex- 
 perience of Christ. Such was the faith that they proceeded to carry 
 out into the world in which they lived. It was the Gospel of Glad 
 Tidings, which they were charged to transmit to men of all time 
 every^vhere, who were and are today in desperate need of it. It 
 is the story of God who gives life, who cares for that to which life 
 has been given, and who is continuously within that which lives, 
 charging it with the dynamic force by which life may be lived fully 
 and abundantly. 
 
 But what about this business of the Trinity. To the mind of 
 the man in the pew, the very terms are confusing and baffling. 
 "God in three persons". The expression is baffling because the word 
 "persons", in the language that is commonly used, means people. 
 How, I was asked again and again, can it be possible that there is 
 one God and three different distinct people? What does it mean 
 when we talk about God the Father, who creates, and God the Son, 
 Jesus Christ, who saves and redeems and who is present with us 
 in the Sacrament of the Holy Communion, and God the Holy 
 Spirit (Holy Ghost) who dwells within and guides and offers 
 spiritual and moral power? Doesn't that mean three different and 
 distinct Gods? 
 
 Of course, the difficulty arises from the use of the word "per- 
 sons". It is a word that is never found in the teachings of Christ. 
 It doesn't appear anywhere in either the Old or the New Testa- 
 
 41
 
 ments. It never appeared in the language of the Christian Church, 
 until the simple Galilean Gospel which had been so readily grasped 
 and comprehended by the simple minds to which it had been or- 
 iginally presented, had been taken out and introduced to the 
 Greco-Roman world. We have only to read the Epistles of St. 
 Paul, who was the God-elected instrument through whom chiefly 
 that penetration was accomplished, and compare the Gospel as 
 there expressed with the utter simplicity of the teachings of Jesus, 
 to appreciate the change that took place. 
 
 There were two characteristics that especially marked the 
 world out into which St. Paul moved with the Gospel. In the first 
 place, it was a highly sophisticated and intellectualized world. 
 Those were the days of the great philosophers and metaphysicians. 
 In all the years before or since, there has never been an age when 
 the human mind has been so deeply involved in and concerned with 
 the profundities of human knowledge as it was when St. Paul went 
 out to plant the Christian Gospel in Ephesus and Athens and 
 Corinth and Rome. The transformation that took place was un- 
 doubtedly necessary and inevitable ; but nevertheless it was most 
 largely responsible for the difficulties in comprehension which today 
 exist. Throughout my Winnetka ministry, I was constantly con- 
 cerned with an effort to penetrate back through the elaborations and 
 accumulations of the Pauline theology and to re-interpret Christian 
 theology in terms of what I believed to be the simple Galilean teach- 
 ing of Jesus. 
 
 The other important characteristic of that Greco-Roman world 
 was its intense interest in drama. It was inevitable that Paul's 
 teaching should be translated into terms that were related to that 
 active interest. And here we come to the use of that word "person". 
 In the dramatic presentations of the Greeks it was not unusual, in- 
 deed it was customary, for one actor to take several parts or roles. 
 In one act or scene he might be the hero, in another the villain, in 
 another some quite subordinate role. For each he wore a different 
 mask, to effect a disguise and so to make his dramatic presentation 
 complete. So, it was said, in the drama of Life there is one Actor 
 (God) who plays three different parts or roles. One God — three 
 Impersonations. 
 
 42
 
 Such was the burden of my teaching and preaching through- 
 out my years in Christ Church. Was it completely orthodox? 
 Would it be approved generally by our present-day theologians? 
 I was not sure ; nor indeed was I greatly concerned about gaining 
 that approval. At least, I was making an honest effort to render 
 the message and teaching of the Church intelligible to the man in 
 the pew, and especially to the young people of our parish. When 
 Jesus was here on earth, we read, "the common people heard him 
 gladly". That could never have been said if the words He had 
 employed to articulate His message had been unintelligible or 
 difficult of comprehension. I was merely concerned with offering 
 that same message in similarly comprehensible terms. 
 
 43
 
 CHAPTER EIGHT 
 
 He Calleth His Own By Name 
 
 HE TERM Pastor is a word of great and honorable meaning 
 in the language of the Christian Church. I was never aware of 
 the full implications of the term until long after I had completed 
 my theological training and had been ordained. At that time I 
 had yet to come to an understanding of the actual significance of 
 this most important of all the functions of the Christian ministry. 
 
 Perhaps that is how it must always be. It may well be that only 
 through experience after ordination can a man be expected to come 
 to a full appreciation of what is meant by the pastoral ministry. 
 From the reading of books and by keeping his ears open in the 
 classroom he can learn much about the methods of operation and 
 about the psychological techniques of that ministry. But the ministry 
 itself involves a deeply personal relationship between the pastor 
 and the people to whom it is offered. Upon the vitality of that 
 relationship the effectiveness of the ministry depends. That knowl- 
 edge comes to a man only through active, soul-searching experience. 
 
 With the offices of bishop, priest and deacon it was all very 
 different. That we were taught in the theological seminary. We 
 came to a high appreciation of those orders of the sacred ministry 
 Avithin the structure of the historic Church and to an understanding 
 of what they are and of what they involve. We learned in the 
 classroom about their respective ranking and duties and essential 
 importance. With the ministry and the office of rector it was also 
 different. Our dean, who lectured to us on what was strangely 
 referred to in the school catalogue as "pastoral theology", had 
 himself at one time been the highly respected and successful rector 
 of a large and important metropolitan parish. He was a real 
 teacher, and he taught us out of his experience all we needed to 
 know about the office and functions of the rector as the adminis- 
 trative head of a parish. He gave us to read and study a book, of 
 which he was himself the author, that told the story of a great 
 institutional parish in New York City, and when I left the semi- 
 
 44
 
 nary I had done a fairly good job of mastering the contents of that 
 book. As I now remember it, I passed my final examination in 
 pastoral theology with a creditable grade. And too, with the min- 
 istry of the preacher it was different. At least, in the seminary I 
 gained a fair knowledge of what a preacher should be, of how 
 sermon subjects should be selected and of how sermons should be 
 prepared and constructed and delivered. Our class in homiletics 
 did that for us. 
 
 But the ministry of the pastor was something else. When I left 
 the seminary, presumably ready to embark upon my ministry, I 
 knew very little about that. As I now look back to those long-ago 
 days, I am very sure that I hadn't then derived anything in the 
 nature of a clear conception of the profound meanings of that 
 ministry. I think I came close to it when I read a book, anonymously 
 authored, entitled "Pastor Pastorum". I have lost that book. Some- 
 where along the way it was loaned, and it never came back! But 
 I have always remembered it as the story of the intimate relation- 
 ship that existed between Christ and His disciples. It was rich in 
 suggestion and it made a deep and lasting impression as I read it. 
 
 The thing that I had still to learn, when I graduated from the 
 seminary and was ordained, was that Pastor is not an ecclesiastical 
 title. It is not an order of the sacred ministry, as are Bishop and 
 Priest and Deacon. It is not something that a man comes by neces- 
 sarily and almost automatically as a consequence of his ordination. 
 It is not an office that a man acquires, as in the case of the Rector, 
 by virtue of his election by a group of men who constitute the 
 vestn' of a parish. It is none of these. It is not official at all; rather, 
 it is deeply personal. It is a way of operation within the whole 
 ministry of the Church. It is something that may belong to every 
 order and to every office. Indeed, it must belong, if the man occupy- 
 ing the office shall ever reap the fairest fruits and find the greatest 
 satisfactions of his ministry. It is warm, intimate, affectionate. It 
 is a relationship, supremely personal, that may exist between the 
 minister and the people to whom he is sent. It must be earned and 
 won; it can never be simply bestowed. It is to be achieved always 
 by living in close personal contact. He who shall have it must live 
 so close to his people that he comes to know them by sharing inti- 
 mately both their joys and their sorrows, to love them both for 
 what they are and, more particularly, for what they may become. 
 It is a ministry that is built upon the pastor's faith in his people. 
 
 45
 
 It is exercised from within-out rather than from above-down. It is 
 never a duty, an obligation, a chore. (Is anything more tragically 
 ineffective than is the pastoral call that is made as a matter of duty ! ) 
 It must always be a joy, a rich and precious privilege. 
 
 Such was the ministry of the Good Shepherd, as we read of it 
 in the Gospels. Surely there was nothing official or institutional 
 about it. Surely it was ever warm, intimate, personal. It was 
 founded upon and it was motivated by His love for people and His 
 faith in them. It was made possible by the intimacy of His relation- 
 ship with those to whom His ministry as pastor was offered. So 
 closely did He identify Himself with them in their living experience 
 that He became a scandal to the institutionalists. They charged 
 Him with being "a gluttonous man, a winebibber, a friend of publi- 
 cans and sinners". He offered no answer to the charge. They were 
 the ones whom He had come to seek and to save. If this w^as the 
 way it might best be done, it was the way He would most surely 
 do it. 
 
 The man who aspires to be a pastor is wise if he follows the 
 pattern of Christ's ministry. He will seek to establish that kind of 
 contact with the people to whom he ministers. This will be true of 
 the adult members of his congregation. More particularly will it be 
 true of his ministrj^ to the children and the youth in his congrega- 
 tion. Whatever they shall grow into by way of spiritual maturity 
 and witnessing discipleship will be largely the result of his success 
 in accomplishing this end. Much will depend upon the educational 
 program that is set up in the parish, upon the teaching material 
 and the equipment that are made available in the Church School, 
 upon the willingness of qualified men and women of the congregation 
 to accept the responsibility and to make the necessary sacrifices 
 involved in their educational leadership. But everything will depend 
 upon the pastor himself, upon the relationship that is established 
 between himself and the children of his congregation, and upon his 
 ability so to impress his vision of the pastoral ministry upon the 
 parish that it will permeate every parochial activity that is in any 
 way related, as the total program of the parish should and must be 
 related, to the growing and expanding life of the child. 
 
 My education into the meaning of the pastoral ministry and 
 into an understanding of what a pastor is began one morning as 
 I was riding my horse through a canyon in Wyoming. I was a 
 missionary in that western district, and I made this trip every week 
 
 46
 
 from my rectorj' home to a coal mining town that was one of the 
 stations to which I had been assigned. It was a seven-mile ride 
 each way. I would ride up Sunday afternoon, conduct the evening 
 service in the small frame chapel, spend the night with Grandma 
 Dudley, and ride back home the following morning. In the spring 
 and autumn, the ride through the canyon was gloriously beautiful. 
 In the summertime, it was apt to be insufferably hot. This happened 
 to be mid-winter, and the thermometer registered 35° below zero. 
 As I rode, my mind went to musing: Only fifteen people out last 
 evening. Not much of a congregation. Pretty hard to work up much 
 enthusiasm for this kind of a thing. Talk about the drama and the 
 thrills of the life of a missionary! Not much drama or thrills about 
 this. Not too bad in May or October. Pretty tough when it means 
 riding seven miles in 35-below weather. So it went on and on. 
 Suddenly there sprang into my thinking a phrase. It was something 
 I remembered saying last Sunday morning, as I stood at the altar 
 celebrating Holy Communion. I was haunted by it. There it was; 
 and, as I rode, I found myself repeating it to myself over and over 
 again : "Who for us men and for our salvation came down from 
 heaven". Why, that means those fifteen people up there in Cambria, 
 each and everyone of them! For them and for their salvation He 
 came down from heaven. So greatly did He care. That is why I was 
 there last evening. They don't know it, and I was there to tell them. 
 So greatly did He care. This is what all ridiiig up and down through 
 this canyon is about. So greatly must I care! Right there my edu- 
 cation into the meaning of the word Pastor began. That kind of 
 thing isn't learned in classrooms or from reading books. It must 
 be discovered through experience. 
 
 The education continued some few days later. Again I was on 
 my horse. (It must be remembered that those were days when 
 automobiles were not available to the missionaries of the Church, 
 as they so fortunately are today!) This time I was on my way to 
 perform the marriage ceremon}' for a man and Avoman who had 
 been living together unmarried as man and wife for several months, 
 and to baptize their child, in their ranch home some forty miles 
 from where I lived. I had started early in the morning, ridden 
 through most of the day, and it was now well on towards evening. 
 Out on the range I came on a shepherd, his horse and dog, and his 
 band of sheep. I had never before talked with one of these men. 
 I had heard about them. I had been told that the life of the shepherd 
 
 47
 
 is the loneliest life a man can live. I wanted to find out how he 
 lived so completely alone for weeks at a time without human 
 companionship, what he thought about, how he bore his loneliness. 
 I stopped, and we talked together far into the night. Many things 
 I learned as we talked. But most of all I discovered how he thought 
 about and how he cared for his sheep. He even had names for them! 
 That interested me immensely. As far as I was concerned, they were 
 just a band of sheep, utterly indistinguishable. I couldn't tell them 
 one from another. Except for some differences in size, they all looked 
 alike to me. Not so to the shepherd. He knew them as distinct, 
 separate, individual sheep, each one of them the object of his 
 personal interest, his concern, his caring. He had an explanation 
 for it. He explained it by the fact that the sheep has not been 
 equipped by its Creator with the means of self-defense. It is a 
 defenseless creature and it needs protection. Later I came to learn 
 that such concern for the individual sheep is characteristic of 
 shepherds. 
 
 That night, before I went to sleep, I opened my New Testament 
 to the 10th chapter of St. John's Gospel and read: "He that entereth 
 in by my door is the shepherd of the sheep. The sheep hear his 
 voice, he calleth his own sheep by name, he leadeth them out. He 
 goeth before them, and they follow him, for they know his voice. 
 I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd giveth his life for the 
 sheep. I know my sheep, and am known of mine. I lay down my life 
 for the sheep." How often I had read those words before. Now I 
 was beginning to understand something of what they mean. He 
 was talking to people who were familiar with the habits of sheep 
 and shepherds. He was of course talking to them in their own 
 language. They knew what He meant when He spoke to them about 
 the shepherd whose own the sheep are not. He did it for pay. He 
 was a hireling; and, when danger appeared, as it so often did, "the 
 hireling fleeth because he is an hireling and careth not for the 
 sheep." Before I closed my eyes that night, I was on my knees 
 saying, "Dear God, keep me from ever being a hireling. Help me, 
 teach me, to be a good shepherd of the sheep." 
 
 I was beginning to learn — learning by experience. The shepherd 
 means the pastor, and the pastor means the shepherd. The two words 
 are interchangeable. This is the inner character of the pastoral 
 ministr3^ "He calleth his own by name." 
 
 48
 
 CHAPTER NINE 
 
 The Church And The Child 
 
 J, HE CHILDREN of the parish and I had a game that we played 
 together. This was some years after my days in Wyoming. It all 
 started one morning as I stood at the door of the chapel to welcome 
 them as they streamed in for the worship service with which the 
 sessions of the Church School always began. One after another, as 
 they came up the steps, greeted me with a grunted and almost 
 inaudible "Hello" or with a smiling "Hi". Something had to be 
 done about that! When the time came for my address, I announced 
 that I had discarded the address that I had prepared for that 
 particular morning and that the subject of my meditation would 
 be "Gi-unted Greetings". We decided then and there that thereafter, 
 whenever we met up with one another, whether it be at the door 
 of the chapel or in the corridors of their schools or anywhere out 
 in the village, if either they or I should indulge in any such im- 
 personal greeting, the one greeted should say to the greeter, 
 "What's my name?" If the right answer wasn't forthcoming, a 
 penalty must be paid; and the penalty we agreed upon was one 
 ice cream soda or its equivalent. 
 
 Of course I was at a great disadvantage playing that game. 
 There were three or four hundred of them and only one of me. But 
 I found a way of overcoming the disadvantage. I prepared in my 
 ofifice a filing drawer with 365 cards, one for each day of the year. 
 On each card were the names, the nicknames, the home addresses 
 and the years of birth of the children of the parish whose birthdays 
 occurred on that particular day. The first thing to be done, when I 
 arrived at my desk each morning, was to write a letter to each of 
 those whose birthdays fell on the day following. It was a personal 
 letter, written in longhand, never typed or dictated. That was im- 
 portant. They had a hard time reading my handwriting, but we 
 had to take our chances with that. The important thing was that it 
 was my own letter, written by myself, to each of them, on what was 
 for the particular child the most important day of the year — My 
 
 49
 
 Day. The lettei-s finished, a prayer was said for those to whom they 
 were addressed, referring to each one by his or her name. This too 
 was of very special importance. And they were mailed. 
 
 There were those who asked me, "How do you possibly find the 
 time for those birthday letters?" and, "How can you afford to give 
 so much time to writing them?" The answer was easy. I was exercis- 
 ing my pastoral ministry. The whole operation each day consumed 
 possibly a half -hour of my so-called precious time! It paid out 
 richly in spiritual dividends, and the rewards were great. It wasn't 
 long before my disadvantage was evened out. We were calling one 
 another by name. 
 
 But there are others within the organized life of the parish to 
 whom the pastoral ministry belongs. It is a shared ministry and a 
 team activity. Every person who is in contact with the growing life 
 of the child and who holds a place of leadership in that life must 
 catch the idea of "calling his own by name" and share with the 
 pastor his concern for the individual. They too are to be pastors. 
 
 Some years ago I sat in with a group Of my brother clergymen 
 discussing many things connected with the work of the Church and 
 with our common ministry. We had that kind of informal get-to- 
 gether from time to time, and not infrequently it proved to be even 
 more profitable than were the more formal gatherings in conference 
 and convention. On this occasion, there were perhaps a dozen of us, 
 all close friends. As we talked, the conversation gravitated to a 
 discussion of what it was that had brought each one of us into the 
 ministry of the Church. The interesting fact emerged that every 
 man in the room had in his boyhood sung in a parish choir and 
 that the original impetus that had eventually carried him into the 
 priesthood had come into his life while he was engaged in that 
 service. Furthermore, more than half of us singled out the choir- 
 master as the one person in his life through whom, more than 
 through any other, the impetus had been imparted. 
 
 It was a revealing incident. It fortified my conviction that 
 the boy choir is a training school of incalculable importance, and 
 that the man who occupies the office of choir director is entrusted 
 with an exceptional opportunity as well as with a responsibility of 
 far-reaching significance. 
 
 But everything depends upon the man himself and upon how 
 
 50
 
 he regards his job. He will avail himself of the opportunity and 
 he will discharge the responsibility just insofar as he succeeds in 
 establishing between himself and those under his leadership the 
 pastoral relationship. As he thinks about his choir, he must visualize 
 it as a single important section of a total parochial program, the 
 primary purpose of which is the development of Christian person- 
 alities and the production of awakened and aroused disciplesliip. 
 
 Unfortunately, this is not always what happens. Too often the 
 choirmaster is a man whose thought of his job begins and ends with 
 the putting on of a first-rate musical performance. It is that for 
 which he has been appointed and it is that that he is expected to do. 
 If he does it well, nothing more can be expected of him. He is 
 probably a man of rare gifts as an organist. He is highly qualified 
 as a trainer of singing voices, and he knows all that he can be ex- 
 pected to know about choral music. But he has a blind spot — and 
 this is the tragedy of it. He has no inherent liking for or interest 
 in boys as boys. To him, in his thinking of them, they are not unlike 
 the stops in his organ. Just as impersonal as that. They are (at 
 least, potentially they are!) musical instruments, to be trained 
 and used as such. All will be well, and he will have done Avhat he 
 has been called and is expected to do, if the congregation on Sunday 
 morning, and especially the vestiy of the parish and its music com- 
 mittee, approve of the performance they render. 
 
 It is indeed a tragic misconception. The boys of the choir are 
 not musical instruments. They are human personalities. The first 
 job of the choir and of the choirmaster is not to turn out an approv- 
 able musical performance. Rather, it is to take the raw material, 
 represented by those human personalities, and to transform it into 
 converted witnessing discipleship. 
 
 During the years of my parochial ministry, it was my good 
 fortune to have two men as choirmasters who splendidly avoided 
 the error. I refer to Horace Whitehouse and to Robert Birch. They 
 thought of themselves first of all as pastors; and they thought of the 
 young people in their choirs primarily as .objects of their pastoral 
 minist^\^ Fortunately, they were both also accomplished musicians, 
 excellently qualified as trainers of voices; for which reason the 
 parish, while they were with us, Avas doubly blessed. 
 
 One of the two had a special reason for his interest and atti- 
 
 51
 
 tude. He had five sons of his own. During the years he served our 
 parish probably two hundred lads came under his inspired and 
 inspiring leadership. The contribution he made both to them and to 
 the Church cannot be fully evaluated. Just one instance must suffice. 
 
 I have in mv hands a letter, dated December 15, 1953. It was 
 written by Ernie Campbell, and I shall let Ernie speak for himself: 
 
 "This morning I received two letters in my mail from two men 
 who had a great deal to do with mj' being ordained last Saturday. 
 One of them was Dr. Horace Whitehouse and the other was you. 
 I have never been sure that you ever knew the whole stoiy of how 
 I came to Christ Church, but I am sure that I will always remember 
 it as one of the greatest days of my life. It was the beginning of a 
 new life. I was baptized a Christian in the Roman Catholic Church, 
 of which both of my parents were members, and almost at the same 
 time they became disturbed about something, which I never really 
 understood, and they dropped completely out of active membership. 
 This left both my sister and me in a very sad position, for neither 
 of us went to Sunday School. I used to delight in making fun of the 
 kids who had to 'dress up' on Sunday morning while I could play 
 around and read the funnies. It Avasn't until I was nine years old 
 that my father gave me the idea to join Christ Church Choir. 
 
 "I remember very elearlv how Dad and I walked over to the 
 Parish House one Saturday morning and I made one of the most 
 important steps of my life. As I recall, the Choir was rehearsing 
 in the auditorium for some reason and Dr. Whitehouse was the 
 Choirmaster. After the rehearsal I told him that I wanted to sing 
 and he asked me if I could. He hit a few notes on the piano, I sang, 
 and he told me I was in. 
 
 ''Little did I know what I was getting into, especially when I 
 walked out the front door and was hit by a stream of water and a 
 tennis ball at the same time. 
 
 "The next great man that was to come into my life through 
 joining the Choir was Skipper.* I am sure that I worshipped him 
 long before I worshipped God, but it was he who helped lead the 
 way. I still have that letter from Skip telling me tliat half of my 
 tuition at Camp Douglas Smith would be paid if I could pay the 
 
 * George Getgood 
 
 52
 
 I 
 
 other half. I think it was about $35. This was the beginning of my 
 life as a camper, and every summer since I was nine 1 have been 
 at a summer camp. My tenth year at being a camp counselor came 
 at Teton Valley Ranch, where T was head counselor and was making 
 top pay. I have come to love that kind of life more than many people 
 will ever understand, and it all started through the Choir. 
 
 "Your part in God's plan came my Freshman year in college. 
 You called me into your office and sugge.sted that I should consider 
 going into the ministry. I remember that I was really floored! At 
 that time I could never see myself as a priest and I think at the 
 time the whole idea seemed impossible. Through your inspiration 
 and prayers and through the many people who came into my life 
 and pointed the way to God, I Imow now that it wasn't impossible — 
 because I am now a priest!" 
 
 A single incident re-called out of a long parochial ministry. 
 But it v.as neither exceptional nor unrepeated. Indeed, it has hap- 
 pened again and again in many another parish. A lad drifts into 
 the orbit of a parochial contact. He finds himself in association 
 with men who think of themselves in terms of the pastoral ministry. 
 They offer him the opportunity to yield his life to Christ. At some 
 point that opportunity is seized. A new disciple is born. A life is 
 richly dedicated to the service of God. 
 
 Again and again it is said that "The children of today are the 
 Church of tomorrow". It is one of those dangerously deceptive 
 half-truths which, however impressive and appealing on the surface, 
 can easily do untold damage in the working-out. It is true of course 
 that the young people who are growing up in our congregation at 
 the present time are they to whom the Church must look for leader- 
 ship and for devoted and intelligent service in the days that are 
 ahead. Upon them, grown into Christian manhood and w^omanhood, 
 great responsibility will rest. As spiritually mature Christians, 
 they will be challenged by the problems of the community, of the 
 nation and of the world which, however compelling those problems 
 are todav, will surelv be no less so in the tomorrow in which these 
 young people will have to live. Whether or not the Church of to- 
 morrow will address itself to those problems more effectively and 
 with greater influence than it is doing at the present time will 
 depend upon what is done now. 
 
 53
 
 The whole truth is that the children who are with us in the 
 present hour are not just "the Church of tomorrow". They are a 
 vital part — indeed, the most vital and challenging part — of the 
 Church of today. They must now be our first and most constant 
 concern. The total active life of the parish must be built around 
 and for them. The pastor's ministry is to be exercised on their be- 
 half. His interest in them, his understanding of them, his love for 
 them must be communicated to every person in the congregation 
 who stands in the position of educational leadership. 
 
 Most important of all, whatever happens by way of training the 
 children of today into an awakened and intelligent Christian dis- 
 cipleship will depend upon the quality of Christian life that is 
 lived in the parish, upon the wholesome fellowship that prevails, 
 of which the children of the congregation are made aware, upon 
 the Christian standards that are not only taught and proclaimed 
 but lived. This is why those of us who operate within the structural 
 life of the Church, as it functions on the parish level, have come 
 more and more to realize the importance of taking stock of the 
 spiritual attitudes that prevail within the congregation. Every 
 parish is called upon to make an honest and accurate evaluation of 
 its faith, as that faith is not only proclaimed from the pulpit and 
 enunciated in a creed, but as it is manifested in the lives of the 
 people. What they do for and with each other is the barometer by 
 which the faith is to be determined rather than what they say and 
 do when they meet together on Sunday mornings. The children of 
 the parish are to be introduced into a fellowship that is charged 
 with the spirit and purpose of the Living Christ. They are to be 
 proud and glad to enjoy the high privilege of becoming a part of it. 
 
 This is what is meant by "taking stock". Is this parish, of 
 which I am a part and for which I am responsible, a reflection of 
 the Christ whose Name we so proudly bear? Is the stranger, as he 
 comes to us, easily made aware of the warmth that Christianity 
 most surely implies? Do men "take knowledge of" us that we have 
 "been with Jesus"? Are the members of this congregation known 
 and evaluated for who and what they are rather than for what they 
 have? Do we as parishioners live lives that have God at the center 
 or is something or someone else at the center? They are soul-search- 
 ing questions; but they are the questions that must be asked and 
 answered. For they bear heavily upon the effectiveness of the min- 
 
 54
 
 istry that is offered to the children for whose growth in Christ the 
 Church, as it functions within the life of the parish, is responsible. 
 
 All of which means that the ministiy of the Church to the 
 child is the business not only of the rector but also of every adult 
 member of the congregation. The rector cannot be expected to do 
 the job alone. He must lead and direct, and he must provide the 
 vision and the inspiration. But the lay members of the congregation 
 must accept his leadership and must share his vision. They also 
 have their ministry, into which they were ordained when they knelt 
 before the bishop and were confirmed. "The priesthood of all be- 
 lievers" is an expression that has come to have great and important 
 meaning. It means that the Christian faith is not something that 
 is to be accepted and kept but rather it is something that is to be 
 won and shared. It means that the lay membership of the Church 
 must become articulate about their faith. It means that they who 
 "profess and call themselves Christians" shall be "led into the way 
 of truth", that they shall "hold the faith in unity of spirit, in the 
 bond of peace, and in righteousness of life". It means that they will 
 "show forth God's praise not only with their lips but by and in 
 their lives, by giving up themselves to God's service, and by walk- 
 ing before Him in holiness and righteousness all their days". 
 
 Such is the parish that has undertaken so to re-order its think- 
 ing and so to re-establish its ways of operation that it will exercise 
 an effective ministry- to the child. Whatever the Church may be in 
 the future will depend upon how well that ministry' is performed 
 now. We have come a long way since the days when we thought 
 of Christian education as a matter of bringing together the children 
 of the parish once a week and pouring into their immature minds 
 certain information and certain facts relating to the Bible and the 
 Church and the creeds. We have at long last discovered that it 
 actually means introducing the child into an experience within 
 which he will find himself confronted by the Living Christ. Some- 
 where along the road he may make his glad surrender. That is our 
 hope and our prayer. At some point of time he may be able to say, 
 "When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, 
 I thought as a child. Now that I have become a man, I have put 
 away those childish things." For that we strive. 
 
 55
 
 CHAPTER TEN 
 
 A Parson In War Service 
 
 On march 12, 1917 the United States declared war against 
 Germany. At long last our Country was committed to aggressive 
 involvement in the war which, ever since 1914, so many had hoped 
 and prayed might be avoided. I had been engaged in my ministry 
 in Christ Church a bare nine months. I felt a clear duty to get into 
 uniform. I couldn't bear to watch so many of the young men of my 
 parish go out into their military service while I remained safely 
 and securely at home. What would I have to say to them, what 
 would they think and what would they have to say to me, if I 
 remained behind while they went out? And yet, I could not release 
 my thinking from my sense of obligation to my parish. I was torn 
 between two conflicting duties. 
 
 I took my dilemma to the Vestry. With one voice they told me 
 that I should go. They refused to accept my offered resignation and 
 said that I should be granted an extended leave of absence to con- 
 tinue as long as my services were required, that my stipend as 
 Rector should be continued, and that my family should remain in 
 the Rectory. It was action of extreme generosity for which I have 
 always been grateful. 
 
 Immediately, I applied for admission to the Chaplains Corps 
 of the United States Army. I waited patiently until the following 
 June, when I received orders to report for training at Camp 
 Zachary Taylor in Louisville, Kentucky. There I spent six long, 
 torrid weeks — studying, drilling, being made ready for my military 
 service. At last the training-period was over and we were ordered 
 to report in the mess-hall after supper to receive our orders. There 
 w^e sat as the names were read out in alphabetical order, each of 
 the 400 of us wondering who would be the lucky ones to be sent 
 overseas. That wa.s what we had enlisted for. That was what everj^- 
 one of us most of all wanted. They went through the A's, the B's, 
 the C's and on through the F's. So far every was ordered to report 
 
 56
 
 at one or another army camp in the States. As his name was read, 
 each slunk out of the hall in an attitude of utter dejection. Then 
 the G's! Now my turn had come! Now I should know! And then I 
 heard the voice of the Commanding Officer: "E. Ashley Gerhard, 
 Lieutenant. Report September 1 to the Chaplain at the Port of 
 Embarkation, Hoboken, New Jersey!" 
 
 I leaped to my feet and rushed out into the night. I had just 
 a week to get together my overseas equipment. Completely ready, 
 I walked into the office of the Port Chaplain in Hoboken on Sep- 
 tember 1. He read my orders, turned to me, and said, "Glad to 
 welcome you. Chaplain. There is your desk over in the corner of 
 the room!" 
 
 So there I was, not after all on my way overseas, as I had 
 hoped and planned, but stationed, as far as I then knew, in the 
 office of the Chaplain in Hoboken, New Jersey. Words could not 
 express my disappointment and dismay. Not that there might not 
 be interesting and probably important work to be done there at 
 the place of my assignment; but I had so anticipated European 
 duty. However, I was to discover that there was to be relief from 
 m}' dismay. Troops were pouring into the Port of Embarkation from 
 camps scattered all over the country, to be embarked and sent on 
 their way. They were to be forwarded with words of encouragement 
 and cheer and with prayers for their safe return. In equally large 
 numbers, sick and disabled men were coming back from their com- 
 bat duty overseas, to be welcomed with underetanding and sym- 
 pathy and to be provided in ever\' case with the necessary attention 
 and care. Very soon I found myself involved in a Christian ministry 
 to which I became completely committed. 
 
 I find in my files a copy of a letter that I addressed to the 
 people whom I had left behind in Winnetka, under date of October 
 3, 1918. I reproduce it here to give some idea of what at that time 
 my war service involved : 
 
 Dear People of Christ Church: — 
 
 More than a month has passed since that wonderful service 
 on the First Sunday in September, our last together before I left 
 you to take up my work amongst the men of our great Amer- 
 ican Army. As I look back on it now and try to appreciate what 
 it meant to me, I realize how strange it all seemed — how in- 
 comprehensible that I should put behind me all those associa- 
 
 57
 
 tions upon which I had come so to rely and that ministry that 
 I treasured above all else and launch myself into an experience 
 of which I knew so little. How little did I know then of where 
 my new work should lie. How vague was my thought of what I 
 should be given to do and of how I should do it. All I thought 
 of, all I cared for, was that somewhere were thousands of 
 American men who had ventured to pledge their all for an 
 ideal, that their venture constituted my responsibility and my 
 opportunity, and that someday I should value my present 
 ministry according to the measure in which I might now fulfill 
 that responsibility and meet that opportunity. I thanked God 
 then that you so willingly made possible my going; and daily 
 since that time my gratitude to Him and to you has increased. 
 For I have become increasingly conscious of the value of this 
 that He and you bade me do. 
 
 No, I must qualify that statement. There were days when, 
 I must acknowledge, I questioned the advisability of the step 
 I had taken. Those were the days when I realized for the first 
 time that my assignment overseas was to be postponed, if not 
 entirely and permanently denied me. France was my objective 
 — the only goal for which I cared. And Hoboken was the end 
 at which I was destined to arrive! Only one who has lived as 
 I have in the immediate neighborhood of that much-joked-about 
 German-American city can appreciate the inevitable humilia- 
 tion attaching to that destiny. 
 
 But at that time I did not reckon with the possibilities 
 involved in a chaplaincy at the Port of Embarkation. I had not 
 then had the experience of clasping the hands of men who had 
 said the final good-bye to their loved ones and who were setting 
 forth upon a voyage whose perils were the greater because 
 unknown. Nor had I had then the privilege — the high and 
 blessed privilege — of being the one who should do for them the 
 first thing and say to them the first word as they again set their 
 feet upon the soil of the homeland. Now I know. And now, 
 although I have been told that I am not to be of that favored 
 company which ministers in the Name of God to American men 
 upon the field of battle and although my orders prevent my 
 sharing of their hardships and my joining in their sacrifices, 
 I give thanks. For I have come to understand that the most 
 important work to which I can give myself now and for months 
 to come, not even excepting that at the Front, is to be found 
 in Hoboken and New York City. 
 
 It may be that you will be interested in knowing why and 
 how I have arrived at this valuation of this work. I can help 
 you to know that by telling you of certain instances which 
 reveal the mind and the spirit of the men to whom I am 
 ministering here. There I have found the meaning of this work. 
 
 58
 
 My business is, so far as I can, to conserve the results of this 
 warfare as those results are to be found in the hearts and minds 
 of the men whom America has sent forth. Those men are to 
 remake our Country. The character of the nation that we shall 
 be, the nature of the people that we are in the process of 
 becoming, are to be determined by the manhood which shall 
 flow back into our home communities out of this welter of 
 struggle and bloodshed. It is for us, by suggestion and by 
 influence, to help these men appreciate the meaning and the 
 value that the spirit which they bring back with them has for 
 the America of Tomorrow. The more I see of them the less I 
 fear for the Nation that we are to be. 
 
 Jerry is a red-headed lad, some six-feet-two-or-three in 
 height and with a smile that would warm your heart, who 
 looks as though he might yesterday have been following a plough 
 in some Kansas field. He has just returned to the land he loves 
 after eight months active service at the Front. There he lies 
 on the wire litter on which he has been carried out of the cabin 
 in which he has spent the nine weary days of the trip across, 
 waiting to be borne across the gang-plank to the little Govern- 
 ment vessel and thence carried to the hospital down-harbor. 
 As I kneel by his side, seeking the word which will tell him 
 something of the joy we have in his safe return, I discover 
 why he is carried rather than being allowed to walk. Both of 
 his legs constitute the price he has paid for being a soldier of 
 this free nation. "Well, old fellow," I say, "you have certainly 
 given almost everything to your Country, haven't you?" "That 
 isn't the way to look at this thing, Chaplain," is his splendid 
 reply. "You see, it is this way. Before I went into this scrap I 
 was a stone-cutter by trade. Ever since I was a kid that was 
 how I made my living. And now I am back, able and ready to 
 take it up again. True, they got my feet. But any time I can 
 get someone to roll me up to my block of marble and put my 
 chisel in one hand and my hammer in the other. Thank God 
 they left me those!" I should give much to be present to mark 
 the note of possession in Jerry's voice the next time he sings, 
 "My Country, 'tis of thee." 
 
 And too the young Italian lad. I think he was on that same 
 ship. Before he went into the Service he sold newspapers on the 
 streets of New York. Then came the great call and he volun- 
 teered. That was something more than a year ago. Now he was 
 returning — the life of the ship, they told me he was, in spite 
 of the fact that a German bullet had taken the sight of one eye 
 and another had left him with but one foot. He was hobbling 
 about the deck when I went up to him, to offer him my 
 acknowledgment of the service he had rendered and to cheer 
 him with the thought that he still had an important place to 
 
 59
 
 fill in the common life in America. And then he told me his 
 story. Oh, how they love to tell their stories, these undaunted 
 lads! "It happened at Chateau Thierry, Chaplain. We had 
 made our first advance and I was one of the first over the top. 
 Then the Hun got me just as my company fell back. There I 
 was, lying on the field with nothing left of this eye and my foot 
 feeling as though a steam-roller had just gone over it, when 
 along came a German officer. He gave just one look at me and 
 saw that I wasn't yet done for. So he pulled out his gun and 
 he plugged me right here." And then that Italian hero, with a 
 look of pride on his face, that I shall never forget, turned back 
 his shirt to show me a wound not more than a half-inch above 
 his heart. I thought of him this past week, when I saw a poster 
 calling upon the American people to offer their dollars to the 
 cause to which we have pledged our all, and read there, "Lend 
 the way they fight!" If we should lend the way they fight 
 Uncle Sam would have had his Six Billions within twenty-four 
 hours. 
 
 Sometimes I am asked if the Chaplain, doing this kind of 
 work, has a real chance to minister along definitely religious 
 lines. My answer is that, provided the question has to do pri- 
 marily with winning men to the Master and only secondarily 
 with drawing them to the Church as the means to that all- 
 important end, the opportunity is boundless. Never have I 
 seen men so alive to the worth of ideals and so ready to ac- 
 knowledge the Ideal of the Christ as the single hope of the 
 world. The door is wide open. If we will only have the 
 faith and the hope and the love to avail ourselves of that 
 open door! 
 
 Casey is a lad who only today was discharged from the 
 Hoboken Hospital after four long weeks of Influenza and its 
 dread complications. Day after day I have sat at his bed-side, 
 waiting and praying that the delirium should pass. For a whole 
 week the doctors told me there was no possible hope. At last 
 though, the fever broke and the upward climb began. I had 
 never "talked religion" to him. But one morning just a few 
 days ago, I carried in my hand a little book containing some 
 prayers and Bible readings, and a few of the more familiar 
 hymns, and I said to him, "Casey, would you have any use 
 for this?" "If you had asked me that a month ago" he 
 answered, "I would have said, 'Not on your life.' But things 
 are different now. I know now that, when a fellow gets as 
 sick as I have been, the doctors have done all that they can do 
 and the nurses have done all that they can do — and then it is 
 up to God. Well, a fellow -would be a pretty poor sort who 
 would come out of this kind of thing and then forget the One 
 who pulled him through. I don't think I'll wait again till I am 
 
 60
 
 down before I say the prayer I used to say at my mother's 
 knee. Yes, Chaplain — I sure do want that book." 
 
 And here is my final answer to the question. I walked up 
 the gang-plank of a vessel a day or two ago which had just 
 docked. Across the deck stood a group of twenty men — 
 wounded men, I thought, just returned from France. Going 
 up to them I said, "Well, lads, how did it go with you over 
 there?" "We haven't been over there" they answered. "Well, 
 how do you happen to be on the boat?" "Oh" they replied 
 in a chorus, "they picked us up five hundred miles out at sea. 
 We were on the 'Ticonderoga' going across when she was 
 torpedoed. We all got into the lifeboats and were well clear 
 of the vessel, when the blooming submarine began to shell us. 
 They sank all the boats but ours and killed a hundred men. 
 Our boat, they tied to their stern — and then they submerged. 
 I guess that Hun captain thinks to this day that he took us 
 down with him. But something happened — it must have been 
 the Hand of God — and the hawser snapped and we were set 
 adrift. For four days and three nights we drifted — drifted 
 without an idea of where we were going or if ever we would 
 be picked up. We managed to keep alive with the food that we 
 found in the life-boat. And at last, along came this boat and she 
 took us in." And then they told me this. You will forgive me, 
 my people, if I say that it was the most thrilling part of their 
 wonderful story. "And you know. Chaplain, nobody can tell 
 us that it was anything but God's own Hand which kept the 
 bow of our boat headed through all those days and nights in 
 the direction of the spot on the surface of the ocean where the 
 transport should find us. Nobody can tell us — because we 
 prayed and we know. Every morning we detailed those who 
 should hour by hour do the day's work. One man was de- 
 tailed to keep the look-out, one was detailed to row, one was 
 detailed to steer, one was detailed to bale out the boat, and one 
 was detailed to pray. And here we are." Is there a chance for a 
 chaplain to bring to hearts, touched as those hearts had been 
 touched, the Word of God! 
 
 So this is the work to which you have sent me and for 
 which I daily give thanks. At the present time there is being 
 constructed, in the Grand Central Palace in New York City, a 
 hospital which shall have a capacity of three thousand pa- 
 tients. It will be the greatest institution of its kind in the 
 country and it will receive day after day the men who are 
 today rendering their splendid service overseas. My orders are 
 to take charge of all work that will be done there, other than 
 medical and surgical, for the welfare and comfort of the men. 
 It it difficult now to refer in detail to what that work will be. 
 Sometime in the future I shall write you of it and try to tell 
 
 61
 
 you what it is. But what I have said in this letter will help 
 you to understand why I count it a high privilege. It will be a 
 continuous chance to meet these men as they return and to 
 help them to know and feel that that which they bring back 
 with them is what America needs above all to make her really 
 great. 
 
 God bless you all. I miss you more than I can say. 
 Faithfully your Rector, 
 
 E. ASHLEY GERHARD. 
 
 I spent six weeks in Hoboken, working mainly in the hospitals 
 amongst the Army and Navy personnel who were victims of the 
 influenza epidemic which was raging at the time. In mid-October 
 I was assigned to the staff of the Commanding Officer of the hos- 
 pital, to which I refer in my letter to the Parish. The Army had 
 taken over the Grand Central Palace, a 12-story building that oc- 
 cupied the block that was bounded by Park and Lexington Avenues 
 and 46th and 47th Streets. As Chaplain, I was made responsible for 
 the entire welfare activity in the Hospital — Red Cross, YMCA, 
 Knights of Columbus, Jewish Welfare Board, etc. 
 
 As I came to understand and know it, it was a fascinating job. 
 Almost daily the transports were bringing into New York harbor 
 shiploads of disabled men. They were brought into our hospital, 
 to remain and be cared for until they should be transferred to the 
 various general hospitals all over the country. With most of them, 
 during the few days while they were with us, it was a problem of 
 re-building morale, and that was the problem that had been as- 
 signed to me. 
 
 I had as my assistant a man by the name of Rem Ogilby. Rem 
 and I had been close friends and classmates in the Cambridge 
 Seminary. On his ordination he had gone out to the Philippines 
 to work under the great Bishop Charles Henry Brent. When the 
 war broke for the United States, Bishop Brent was appointed 
 Chaplain General of our overseas forces, on the staff of General 
 Pershing. He wrote to Rem, who Avas then Headmaster of a boys' 
 school in the Philippines, told him to get himself back to the 
 States and into the Chaplain's Corps, and assured him that he 
 (Bishop Brent) would see to it that he was called to overseas duty. 
 One day I ran across my friend on the streets of Hoboken. He 
 
 62
 
 was the unhappiest man I had ever seen. He had followed his 
 bishop's directions, had received his commission as Chaplain, had 
 arrived at the Port of Embarkation on the very day that orders 
 had come out from Washington that no more chaplains were to be 
 sent overseas. I was just at that time setting up my welfare or- 
 ganization in the debarkation hospital. I needed the help of a 
 man like Rem. I succeeded in securing his appointment as my 
 assistant. 
 
 One afternoon there came into my office a Mrs. Whitelaw Reid. 
 Of course I knew Mrs. Reid as the widow of the former United 
 States Ambassador at the Court of St. James. She told me that she 
 had heard about what we were trying to do, with very limited 
 funds, in our welfare organization in the hospital and that she 
 wanted to help in any way that I might suggest. Of course I had 
 plenty of suggestions to offer, all of which she gladly accepted. 
 And then she said, "I don't know where you two men are living. 
 I should be glad to have you occupy the top floor of my house on 
 Madison Avenue." So there we were, Rem and I — our barracks 
 in one of the most palatial mansions in the City of New York. 
 
 Now an amusing thing happened. Don Dallas, one of our 
 Christ Church vestrymen, dropped in to see me while he was on a 
 business trip in New York. I welcomed him, told him about what 
 we were doing, showed him over the hospital. He left me with a 
 promise to carry my greetings back to my beloved people in Christ 
 Church. He happened to return to Winnetka on the day of the 
 annual parish meeting. Mr. Mcllvaine, as Senior Warden, was 
 presiding in my absence. My Dorothy was seated at his right. In 
 the middle of the meeting Don stood up to fulfill his promise to me 
 and to make his report to the assembled parishioners on his visit in 
 New York with the Rector. He said, "You will all be glad to know 
 that I have just returned from New York, where I had a delightful 
 afternoon with our Rector in his hospital. He is well and very happy 
 in what he is doing. He asked me to bring his loving greetings to 
 you. And he is living with Mrs. Whitelaw Reid!" Dorothy collapsed 
 and all but fell under the table. The assembled people of Christ 
 Church let out peals of uncontrollable laughter. "Imagine! Our 
 Rector, away from home, living with Mrs. Whitelaw Reid!" One 
 and all agreed that that was one of the most successful meetings of 
 the people of Christ Church ever held. 
 
 63
 
 There was an interesting aftermath to my war service. I was 
 discharged from the Army in March 1919 and returned to my people 
 in Winnetka. Shortly after my return, Dorothy and I were dining 
 one evening in the home of Winnetka friends and I found myself 
 seated at the dinner table next to Mrs. Donald Forgan. She had 
 been very active during the War in Red Cross work, working 
 especially with the blind. I had become greatly interested in and 
 concerned about several blind men who had been brought into 
 our hospital after their combat service overseas. Apparently their 
 morale was fairly good until their ships entered New York harbor. 
 They were becoming reconciled and adjusted to their tragic state. 
 Then, strangely enough, they underwent a kind of a moral collapse. 
 The prospect of meeting families and friends and of not being able 
 to see and recognize them was something that was too much to bear. 
 They were invariably a serious and extremely difficult problem in 
 morale. So it was natural that my dinner-table conversation with 
 Margaret Forgan should gravitate to the topic in which we were 
 both so deeply interested. 
 
 Suddenly my thoughts turned to a blind man who lived right 
 there in our community. For some years I had known William 
 Hadley intimately in the Rotary Club and was devoted to him. For 
 years a teacher in the Chicago public schools and a brilliant scholar, 
 at the age of 55 he had become totally blind and was retired on a 
 meager pension. He had then come with his wife to Winnetka, 
 here to live out the remaining years of his life. "Wouldn't it be 
 wonderful" I said to my dinner companion, "if you and I might 
 do something right here at home about William Hadley?" 
 
 A day or two later, the two of us called on him. He was a 
 great-hearted man of indomitable spirit. From time to time he 
 would say, "When your life's ambition has failed you, pick up 
 a new thread of endeavor. Make your renewal of effort count for 
 other people and eliminate yourself entirely from the gain." Now 
 he told us of a dream that he had for years entertained. It was 
 a dream that he had discussed with others in the community, but 
 at the time no progress had been made towards its fulfillment. His 
 idea was to prepare question-and-answer lessons on various subjects 
 in Braille, either in his home or in some other available place, to 
 send them out to blind people whoever they were and wherever they 
 might be, and to receive and correct the "papers" as they were re- 
 
 64
 
 turned. In other words, he was interested in resuming his teaching 
 career in spite of liis blindness by setting up and operating from 
 Winnetka a correspondence school for the blind — something that 
 had never before been attempted. 
 
 It was a fascinating idea, but costly to put into operation. I 
 discussed it with Dr. E. V. L. Brown, a noted Chicago ophthalmo- 
 logist who lived in Winnetka. He assured me that the Hadley 
 dream was both sound and feasible. It was not long before the 
 enthusiastic interest and support of others were secured, funds 
 were found to make at least a beginning, the required equipment 
 was purchased, space was provided in Community House as a base 
 of operations. In the year 1921 the Hadley School for the Blind 
 was incorporated as a non-profit organization under the laws of the 
 State of Illinois, with William Hadley as its operating head. There 
 he carried forward the fulfillment of his dream until his death in 
 1941. He was succeeded by Franklin Dean, another blind man and 
 a devoted member of Christ Church, whose cremated remains now 
 lie in our Churchyard. 
 
 The School now has its own beautiful new building on East 
 Elm Street. As I write I have before me its annual report for the 
 year 1961. It shows a student enrollment of 1800, of whom 1504 
 are citizens of the United States and the remaining 296 are scat- 
 tered in foreign countries throughout the world. As I look back 
 over the years it is interesting to know that the origin of this truly 
 great enterprise was a least partially involved in a casual dinner- 
 table conversation in one of our Winnetka homes! 
 
 65
 
 CHAPTER ELEVEN 
 
 A Missio?iary Parish 
 
 X HE General Convention in 1919 took revolutionary' action relat- 
 ing to the missionary program of the Episcopal Church. The funds 
 available to carrv forward the missionarv work of the Church 
 were woefully inadequate. Missionary bishops were leaving their 
 various districts for months every year to travel to wealthy parishes 
 in the east, to appeal for the funds necessary to the carrying-on of 
 their all-important work. Some were more successful than others. 
 At the 1919 Convention it was decided that this method of raising 
 money for the vast missionary enterprise of the Church was waste- 
 ful and inefficient. From then on the program of the Church was 
 to be set upon a sound, economic base. There was to be a carefully 
 prepared general budget. Proportionate quotas were to be assigned 
 to every diocese, and in each diocese quotas were in the same way 
 to be assigned to every parish. There was to be a great Nation- 
 wide Campaign, operated in very diocese and in every parish, to 
 secure the money required to give full and adequate support to 
 the whole work of the Church. 
 
 I was frankly excited by the news of this action of General 
 Convention. Since coming to Christ Church, I had been distressed 
 by the lack of understanding in the parish of what the Mission of 
 the Church was and by the corresponding meagerness of extra- 
 parochial giving. As I now remember it, our parish budget at that 
 time was approximately $15,000.00. Our total annual missionary' 
 giving was $1700.00! My impoverished congregation in Baltimore 
 had been doing better than that! I discussed it with the Vestry 
 again and again, and I was told that the people of Christ Church 
 could not and would not be persuaded to give more. Now, I said 
 to myself, is our chance to discover what the mission of the Church 
 really is. Here is the challenge this parish has needed. Now we 
 are provided with an opportunity to make known to the people of 
 Christ Church what the real job of the Church is, both at home and 
 
 66
 
 abroad, and to awaken them to a full appreciation of their re- 
 sponsibility for the support of that work. Now we shall listen and 
 respond to Christ's challenge when He said, "Go ye into all the 
 world". 
 
 The first thing I had to do was to find the man who would head 
 up the campaign in our parish. I didn't have far to look. Howells 
 Coffin, a member of our Vestry and a devout and devoted church- 
 maji, was equipped with the vision and imagination to see what this 
 all meant in terms not only of raising money, but, far more im- 
 portant, of re-vitalizing the spiritual life of the congregation and of 
 bringing our people to a full understanding of the meaning of 
 Christian discipleship. Equally important was the fact that he had 
 had experience in the kind of effort that this undertaking would 
 involve. Throughout World War II he had headed up the Liberty 
 Loan campaigns in Chicago and Cook County with striking success. 
 He was the one man in Christ Church who was born to the job. 
 
 I took the challenge to Howells, and he accepted without ques- 
 tion or hesitation. Immediately he went about setting up his 
 campaign organization. Within a matter of days he had chosen his 
 team captains and gained their agreement to serve. Through them, 
 the team members were found and appointed. Meetings of the 
 campaign organization were held and every man was given full 
 information as to what it was all about and as to why he had been 
 called upon to play his particular part in this great effort. Group 
 meetings were also held throughout the congregation so that the 
 people, upon whom the calls were to be made, would be made aware 
 of what the ringing of their door-bells would mean in terms of their 
 sacrificial giving. 
 
 Three weeks before the campaign was to be launched, the 
 wholly unexpected happened. I had a telephone call from Lewis 
 B. Franklin, Treasurer of the Church, from his office in New York 
 informing me that I must be released for six weeks from my parish 
 in Winnetka — that I was to go out into the Pacific Northwest and 
 set up and operate the Campaign in the Missionary District of 
 Spokane and in the Diocese of Olympia! I was to meet with the 
 vestries of the various parishes throughout that area and tell them 
 the story that was being told in Winnetka. Of course I had to go, 
 and I went. Now it was up to Howells Coffin, as far as the success of 
 
 67
 
 the Nation-wide Campaign in Christ Church, Winnetka was con- 
 cerned. Before I returned, I received the welcome news that the 
 missionary pledges of the people of our parish for the 3-year period 
 totaled $24,000.00 per year! 
 
 What an awakening it was! From that day until the present, 
 Christ Church has been a missionarv' parish. Not once since then 
 have we failed to accept and to pay in full the quota assigned to 
 us for extra-parochial giving. Year after year we have held first 
 place among the parishes of the Diocese of Chicago in the amount 
 of missionary contributions. It is a place that we have been glad 
 and proud to hold. A tradition was established back there in 1919 
 which, I have no doubt, will continue undisturbed down through 
 the years ahead. 
 
 68
 
 CHAPTER TWELVE 
 
 The Guild 
 
 HE EARLIEST available records of Christ Church state that 
 in 1905 the President of the Woman's Guild was Mre. Elizabeth 
 PoAvell, that there were 37 members of the Guild who held 42 
 meetings during that year with an average attendance of 11, and 
 that the year's receipts were $1,026.66. That same year the Rector's 
 wife, Mrs. Henry G. Moore, was President of the Girls' Friendly 
 Society, the membership of which was 30. Also there were the 
 Woman's Auxiliary, the President of which was Mrs. James G. 
 Weart, and the Altar Guild under the leadership of a Mrs. Martin. 
 
 This seems to have been the origin of what was later to become 
 the Woman's Guild and Auxiliary of Christ Church. On my coming 
 to the Parish it was decided, in the interests of more effective 
 organization, to unite all the groups that involved the women of the 
 congregation into a single inclusive organization. In 1916 Mrs. 
 William H. Merrill was President, in 1917 Mrs. Donald Dallas, in 
 1918 Mrs. George Farnsworth. Thereafter the presidents seem 
 generally to have been elected for two-year terms : 1919-1920 Mrs. 
 Charles McKinney; 1921-22 Mrs. Edward P. Bailey; 1923-25 Mrs. 
 William Woolfolk; 1926-27 Mrs. Randolph Buck; 1928-29 Mrs. 
 Ernest S. Ballard; 1930-31 Mrs. John N. Vander Vries; 1932-33 
 Mrs. Ralph Sargent; 1934-35 Mrs. George Wilson. Mrs. George 
 Nelson served a one-year term in 1936 as did Mrs. Hill Blackett in 
 1937. Mrs. Harold Wilder was elected to the presidency in 1938 
 and continued in office through 1939. The office was occupied in 
 1940-41 by Mrs. D. Bligh Grasett, in 1942-43 by Mrs. Erskine 
 Wilder, in 1944-45 by Mrs. Chester Cleveland, in 1946-47 by Mrs. 
 Joseph Houston, in 1948 by Mrs. W. Donald Roberts, in 1949 by 
 Mrs. Donold B. Lourie, in 1950-51 by Mrs. Jerry Voorhis, and in 
 1952 until the time of my retirement by Mrs. Thomas C. Jones. 
 I recount in this way the leadership of The Guild, as it came com- 
 monly to be known, because these several women, with their various 
 
 69
 
 and many co-workers, were responsible for the development of the 
 coordinated effort of the women of Christ Church, which grew in 
 loyal and immensely valuable service not only to the Parish but 
 also to the Episcopal Church at home and abroad. Again and again 
 I turned to The Guild for assistance in various projects with which 
 I found myself especially involved. That support was in every in- 
 stance extended in full measure. To enlarge the intelligent appre- 
 ciation of the faith and work of the Church was ever the dominating 
 motive in back of the Guild's program. Lenten classes were provided, 
 to study various phases of the missionary work of the Church, 
 which were invariably well attended and helpful. Courses for 
 instruction in the Bible and in the faith of the Church took place 
 during the Advent and Lenten seasons, usually led by the Rector 
 but not infrequently by members of the faculty of the Seminary 
 in Evanston. At the weekly meeting on the first Wednesday of each 
 month, speakers were brought in to address the members of the 
 Guild on subjects of timely and important concern. Throughout it 
 all, funds were raised to support the work of the Church in parish, 
 diocese, nation and throughout the world. 
 
 Much has been said and written both pro and con about rum- 
 mage sales as means of raising money in the Church. This main 
 money-raising activity of our Guild was a project of which I always 
 strongly approved and to which I invariably gave my whole-hearted 
 support. It began in 1925, while we were still in the old Parish 
 House on Oak Street. Discarded articles of every sort and descrip- 
 tion — clothing, furniture, household goods, toys, books — were 
 brought in by the women, sorted, cleaned when necessary, priced by 
 a committee which labored with unremitting zeal, eventually to be 
 sold at low cost. The receipts of that first sale were $1,312.12. Year 
 after year it grew as the idea caught hold and more and more people 
 became interested in using this way of disposing of their worn-out 
 and out -grown possessions. Not only did the interest of our women 
 increase, as expressed in the increasing amount of the articles to be 
 sold, but more and more people of limited means, all the way from 
 Chicago on the south to Milwaukee on the north, came to look 
 forward to the second Thursday in October each year — the day on 
 which the Sale always took place — as an opportunity to buy at low 
 prices the various things they needed for their families and in their 
 homes. For sometime there was the problem of storage of the many 
 articles that were delivered to the old Parish House. This problem 
 
 70
 
 was solved when we moved into our new quarters on Maple Avenue, 
 where the unfinished attic space on the third floor, originally de- 
 signed as a curate's apartment, became available. During my years 
 in Christ Church, the high point was reached in 1946, when the 
 Sale was conducted under the chairmanship of Mrs. Richard 
 Parsons and when the total receipts amounted to $15,017.91. Since 
 that time they have been more than doubled. To me the most satis- 
 fying feature of the whole project w^as the genuine satisfaction and 
 pleasure that the women themselves derived from it, in spite of the 
 long hours of hard work that it involved. Always eagerly looked 
 forward to was the first meeting after the Sale, when reports were 
 received from the chairman of each of the several committees, 
 strange and amusing incidents that had occurred were recalled, 
 suggestions offered as to how" the next Sale might be improved in 
 one way or anothei'. And then the meeting of the Executive Board, 
 when the proceeds were allocated : so much for each of the diocesan 
 agencies, so much for this, that or the other missionary enterprise, 
 so much to the Vestry to be applied to the missionary program of 
 the Parish. Altogether it was an exciting and exhilarating experi- 
 ence. 
 
 There were other money-making activities of the Guild. Each 
 year a Christmas Sale and another in the spring of the year, at 
 which were sold articles that had been made by the Guild members 
 at their w^eekly meetings. Veiy little of the funds raised was assigned 
 to the needs of the Parish or to the overhead expenses of the Guild. 
 Almost all was appropriated to diocesan activities and to the work 
 of the Episcopal Church at home and abroad. It was indeed a paro- 
 chial guild, stimulating and strengthening the friendliness and 
 fellowship within the congregation. The contribution that the Guild 
 has made through the years in welcoming new families as they moved 
 in to make their homes in Winnetka, in cementing friendships, in 
 creating within the congregation of Christ Church an atmosphere of 
 Christian companionship cannot be over-evaluated. And it was an 
 auxiliary — auxiliary to the whole Church in parish, diocese and 
 throughout the world — providing to our women an invaluable op- 
 portunity to know their Church, to gain an intelligent appreciation 
 of its work, and to provide the means with which that work might 
 be generously supported. 
 
 71
 
 One other of our women's groups, meeting separately but actual- 
 ly an integral part of The Guild, was the Evening Guild. It con- 
 sisted of a group of women who, due to their household duties, were 
 not able to attend the Wednesday meetings of The Guild but were 
 eager to have a share in the organized activities of the women of the 
 Parish. They met in the Parish House on Thursday evenings, for 
 many years under the leadership of Mrs. Frank Smith, subsequently 
 under Mrs. Arnold Thorsen and Mrs. Peter Blasius. It was always 
 a joy to drop in on them at their evening meetings and to share 
 their happy and satisfying fellowship. 
 
 72
 
 CHAPTER THIRTEEN 
 
 Upon These I Relied 
 
 At the annual Parish Meeting in 1917 Mr. William B. Mc- 
 Ilvaine was elected Warden of Christ Church. From that time until 
 the day of his death in 1943 he continued to serve the Parish in that 
 capacity. Words cannot express the value of the contribution he 
 made to the life and activity of the growing congregation, and more 
 especially what he meant as "Warden to the Rector of the Parish. It 
 involved a relationship not unlike that of father and son. When I 
 became Rector I was 32 years old. It is true of course that I had 
 had my three years in Wyoming and my four years in Baltimore. 
 Nevertheless, I was young and inexperienced as far as the responsi- 
 bilities involved in my new work were concerned. Constantly I 
 found myself turning to Mr. Mcllvaine for the kind of advice which 
 he was so exceptionally well-equipped to give. Again and again he 
 would call me to his house to warn me when, in his judgment, I was 
 turning in the wrong direction; not infrequently to chide me when 
 he felt that I was not measuring up to my job. But ahvays it Avas 
 with genuine affection and warm personal concern, of which I was 
 never allovred to be unav.are. 
 
 Those tv enty-six years established in vay thinking the meaning 
 and value of what the relationship between a rector and his warden 
 can and should be. There are others in the congregation with whom 
 the rector may live in close and precious intimacy and from whom 
 he may derive valuable cooperation and advice. But no one can take 
 the place of the warden, when that office is occupied by a man of 
 the quality and kindly judgment of a Mr. Mcllvaine. 
 
 Sometime in the 1930's, I believe it was, a resolution was 
 adopted by the Vestry establishing the policy of "i-otation" for 
 the office of vestryman in Christ Church. At the following Annual 
 Meeting it w^as presented and accepted as the established practice 
 of the Parish. It meant that a man, having served five one-year 
 terms as vestryman, was not to be available for re-election. I was 
 
 73
 
 strongly in favor of the resolution. It seemed important, because 
 it would feed into the lay leadership of the parish each year two 
 new men; it would avert the kind of stagnation which has afflicted 
 and stunted the growth of so many parishes; it would offer to the 
 younger men of the congregation the stimulus that is involved in 
 looking forward to moving on themselves into positions of congre- 
 gational leadership. The resolution did not apply to the wardens. 
 With this I was also strongly in favor. My experience with Mr. 
 Mcllvaine had proved to me the importance of permitting the 
 relationship between Rector and Warden to continue undisturbed 
 year after year. 
 
 In the late 1940's this question was again brought up in a 
 Vestry meeting and a resolution was offered, this time to make the 
 "rotation" practice apply also to the office of Warden. By this time 
 Ernest Ballard had succeeded to the office on the death of Mr. 
 Mcllvaine in 1943. With him I had gained the same intimate, per- 
 sonal relationship that I had enjoyed and had found so valuable 
 in the case of his predecessor. He and I were of the same age; but 
 he too was possessed of the same exceptional judgment, the same 
 understanding and love of the Church, the same capacity for 
 personal intimacy and friendship that had meant so much to my 
 ministry in the Parish during the Mcllvaine years. This time I 
 opposed the resolution. As far as I can remember, it was the first 
 and only serious difference that ever arose between the vestry and 
 me during the thirty-seven years of my Christ Church rectorate. 
 Over my opposition the resolution was adopted, and it was sub- 
 sequently approved by the Annual Meeting of the Parish, and it 
 prevails today. 
 
 But again I was fortunate. In 1943, when Ernest Ballard 
 found it necessary to resign because of illness, Thomas C. Jones 
 was elected to succeed him as Senior Warden. He had been a mem- 
 ber of the Vestry during the previous two years. He, too, was a 
 deeply-committed churchman of exceptionally sound judgment, 
 great devotion to and understanding of the Church, and, during 
 the years since he had moved into the community and become a 
 member of our congregation, between him and myself there had 
 grown the same close and responsive personal friendship that I 
 had known and treasured with Mr. Mcllvaine and Ernest Ballard. 
 Indeed, how fortunate I was! Through all those thirty-seven years 
 
 74
 
 I had at my right hand those three men, encouraging, advising, 
 sometimes admonishing, always helpful. To them, more than to any 
 others, must be assigned the credit for whatever progress and 
 success were achieved during the years of my Winnetka ministry. 
 
 But as I have said, there were others to whom I turned and 
 upon whose counsel I relied. Mrs. Frederick Greeley had been a 
 member of the congregation for several years before I came to the 
 Parish. She was a devoted churchwoman, exceptionally well- 
 informed regarding the work of the Church at home and abroad. 
 For years she conducted a class, which met weekly in her home on 
 Chestnut Street, to study and teach the missionary work of the 
 Church. There are women in the congregation today who, I am 
 sure, remember gratefully the hours they spent in that class. While 
 I was out on the West Coast during the Nation-Wide Campaign, 
 I ran across an unhappy situation in the City of Seattle involving 
 two down-town parishes. Situated only a few blocks from one 
 another, each with a strong-willed and aggressive rector, there had 
 developed between the two an unhappy inter-parochial feud. At 
 the time I was out there, the Rector of one of these parishes had 
 recently resigned to become Bishop of the Diocese of Nebraska; 
 the Rector of the other parish had indicated his intention to resign 
 because of old age. In convei-sations that I had with the vestries of 
 these parishes I made the suggestion that they might find the 
 solution of their problem, which was seriously affecting the work 
 of the Church in Seattle, by combining the two congregations and 
 calling a qualified man to head up the single consolidated parish. 
 A few days after my return to Winnetka I received a letter telling 
 me that the two vestries had met, that they had decided on the 
 consolidation, that the new parish was to be the Cathedral of the 
 Diocese, and that I had been called to be the Dean of the Cathedral. 
 It was a tempting invitation, which I was strongly inclined to 
 accept. To be Dean of the Catheclral in a rapidly growing commun- 
 ity out in the great northwest! What a challenge! What a tempta- 
 tion! But I had been in Winnetka only three short years, one of 
 which I had spent away from my parish as a chaplain in the Army. 
 That year had been made possible to me by the generous action of 
 the Vestry in giving me a leave of absence with my stipend un- 
 affected and with my family comfortably in residence in the rectory. 
 How could I conscientiously now leave my post even to accept so 
 
 75
 
 attractive an offer? I needed advice from someone who would look 
 at my problem with an unbiased mind, not only from the point of 
 view of my immediate interest but more especially with a consid- 
 eration of the vital interests of the parish to which I was already 
 committed. The one person who could and, I was sure, would give 
 me that advice was Mrs. (rreeley, and to her I went. It took her 
 less than an hour to turn me right-about and to make me see with 
 complete clarity the mistake that I had almost made. I had been 
 thinking about immediate advancement and about my personal 
 career, and I had almost lost sight of my present duty and of the 
 responsibilities to which I was immediately committed. That eve- 
 ning my letter went back to Seattle declining the call. How grateful 
 I have been through the years for the wise and understanding 
 counsel of that kind and far-seeing friend! 
 
 There were Victor Elting and his lovely wife, Marie. Victor, 
 of course, felt a special responsibility for me. He and Mr. Mc- 
 Ilvaine had come to Baltimore and brought me out to Winnetka. 
 The delightful Elting home on Mount Pleasant Road became our 
 other home in our new community. The relaxing Sunday luncheons 
 after the strenuous schedule of Church School and two morning 
 services. Dinner every Christmas Day, with the gathering of con- 
 genial friends. And Victor always available to discuss problems as 
 they arose and to advise where advice was needed. Marie was 
 Directress of our Altar Guild. It was a work that she loved and 
 to which she brought all her extraordinary powere of deep rever- 
 ence, personal devotion and meticulous care. The records indicate 
 that she was originally appointed to this important position in 
 1911 and in it she remained until the day of her death in 1925. 
 Year after year there was gathered around her a group of women, 
 to each of whom she imparted her concepts of reverent concern 
 about everything that involved the sanctuary. She established 
 standards for the work of the Altar Guild that were rigidly main- 
 tained throughout her yeare and have been continued with like 
 rigidity to the present time. The altar linen and vessels ahvays 
 immaculate. The Rector never allowed to wear a surplice a second 
 time without a re-pressing. A prayer that was hung on the wall 
 of the sacristy which was quietly and reverently recited by each 
 member of the Guild before she went about her duties in the sanc- 
 tuary. Her successors were Mrs. Austria DeLay (1926-1941), Mrs. 
 
 76
 
 Ralph Rockwood (1942-1943), Mrs. James Donovan (1944-1947), 
 Mrs. Will Kelley (1948-1951), Mrs. Rowland Williams (1952) and 
 Mrs. Roswell Chrisnian (1953-57). Each of these devoted women, 
 with the single exception of Mrs. Chrisman, had discovered the 
 sacred significance of the work of the Altar Guild under the inspired 
 guidance of Marie Elting. It is something, I am sure, that can never 
 bo disregarded or forgotten. 
 
 Of course there were many others. If I were to recall the 
 names of all who were my close and valued friends, to whom I 
 looked for a support and cooperation which were never denied, I 
 should have to call the roll of every warden and vestryman who 
 served during those thirty-seven years, of every Church School 
 superintendent and teacher, of eveiy officer of the Women's Guild 
 and Auxiliary, and many others. My years as Rector were indeed 
 blessed by the loyal support which I sought and which I invariably 
 received. Of this I was always aware, and for this I shall always 
 be grateful. 
 
 This part of my story would not be complete were I to fail 
 to make reference to certain members of our parish staff who played 
 important roles in the active life of the Parish during the term 
 of my rectorate. To them must be assigned in large measure credit 
 for the smooth and harmonious, as well as efficient, running of our 
 administrative organization. 
 
 Cora B. Lamb held the post of Parish Secretary upon my 
 arrival in 1916. "Lambie" was the name by which she was affec- 
 tionately known within the circle of our reetoiy family. Our chil- 
 dren, particularly Peter, were devoted to her and she was to them. 
 Indefatigable in her constant attention to every administrative 
 detail, she carried on her invaluable service to the Parish and to 
 me until advancing age made necessary her retirement in the late 
 1920's. She went west to make her home in California, where later 
 she died. 
 
 Ethel B. Doolittle took her place on our staff on March 1, 1934, 
 She, with her husband and two young sons, had been members of 
 our congregation for several years. Upon the death of her husband, 
 she was offered and accepted the position of Parish Secretary, and 
 she was there at the time of my leaving. Words cannot express 
 what her presence in the office meant both to the Parish and to me. 
 
 77
 
 She knew everj^ member of the congregation; she was unfailingly 
 cooperative in every move that I made; she was amazingly patient 
 with my vagaries and rendered a service to which I gladly and 
 gratefully pay my tribute. Shortly after my retirement, she resigned 
 and is now comfortably and happily settled in her home in Florida. 
 
 Hans K. Larsen became our Sexton in the early 20 's and con- 
 tinued his unremitting and tireless service to the Parish for well 
 over twenty-five years. It was an exacting job, involving as it did 
 care of our properties both on Sheridan Road and at Oak and 
 Linden Streets, and later on Maple Avenue. The excellent condi- 
 tion in which those properties were always maintained bore elo- 
 quent testimony to his faithful and conscientious concern. 
 
 There was Hannah Brown Bishop. She and her husband had 
 been devoted and active members of Christ Church before I came 
 to Winnetka — he a member of the Vestry, both of them teachers 
 in the Church School. On Mr. Bishop's death, Mrs. Bishop was 
 appointed Director of Religious Education in the Parish and 
 accepted the appointment. As far as I know, that was the first 
 time that that title was ever used in connection with the educa- 
 tional activities of the Episcopal Church. Mrs. Bishop continued 
 to render extremely efficient service to the Parish during the first 
 two or three years of my Winnetka ministry, until she resigned 
 to accept a similar post under her former rector in St. Peter's 
 Parish, Chicago. 
 
 And then there was Elizabeth M. Eddy. From the earliest 
 days, Winnetka has been a community that has taken the training 
 and education of its children with exceptional seriousness. Educa- 
 tional standards were established and rigorously maintained, both 
 in the public school and later in the Country Day School, that were 
 known and acknowledged throughout the nation. The names of 
 Carleton Washburn and Perry Dunlap Smith were known and 
 highly respected from coast to coast. This was a constant challenge 
 to our parish of which I was more and more aware. It was in- 
 evitable that we should feel that the religious training that was 
 provided to the young people of our congregation should not suffer 
 by comparison with the corresponding educational experience that 
 those same children were offered in the schools they attended 
 throughout the week. For this reason I was in constant search of 
 
 78
 
 trained and well qualified educators to head up the educational 
 program of Christ Church. 
 
 No one who came to us through the years more effectively 
 measured up to those qualifications than did Elizabeth Eddy. I 
 found her in Wellesley, Massachusetts, where she had attended 
 college and, after graduation, had for sometime been Director of 
 Religious Education in St. Andrew's Parish in that city. She came 
 to us in the spring of 1950, and she was there when I left. Under 
 her able administration, our Church School undenvent a complete 
 re-organization. An extended two-hour Sunday morning session 
 was instituted. A new and greatly improved curriculum was pro- 
 vided. The teaching staff was strengthened, and intensive training 
 of our teachers was arranged both in private conference and in 
 group meetings. While Elizabeth was with us I felt, as I had never 
 felt before, that we of Christ Church were beginning to measure 
 up to our responsibilities for the religious training of our children. 
 
 Only three times during the years did we add clerical assist- 
 ants to the staff of our parish. To many this seemed strange, con- 
 sidering the rapid growth of our congregation and the obvious 
 need of such assistance. The fact was that we couldn't afford it. 
 Our budget made it necessary for us to choose between a clergyman, 
 probably a young man, recently ordained and without the training 
 and experience necessary to qualified education leadership, and a 
 well-equipped educational leader who could render acceptable serv- 
 ice as a Director of Religious Education. True, we might have 
 avoided the necessity of facing that alternative choice by reducing 
 our extra-parochial contributions, and that suggestion Avas made. 
 But in every instance it was rejected. We had established standards 
 for our missionary giving both in the Diocese and in the National 
 Church, and those standards we were determined to maintain. 
 
 I shall make reference to Jim MacColl in a later chapter of 
 my ston'. Malcolm Ward I found in the graduating class of the 
 Cambridge School, where I had received my theological training, 
 in the spring of 1927. He came to us immediately upon his gradua- 
 tion and ordination, and remained with us three years. It was a 
 happy association. Both he and his wife, Isabelle, were greatly 
 loved by one and all and we were sorry when he received a call to 
 the Cathedral in Manila in the Philippine Islands, which he felt 
 
 79
 
 compelled to accept. After five years there, he came back to the 
 States to become Rector of St. Paul's Church, Maumee, Ohio, where 
 he has exercised a distin^ished pastorate until the present time. 
 Chester Hand came to us in the spring of 1950, when he graduated 
 from the Seaburj^-Western Seminary in Evanston. He remained 
 on our staff slightly more than a year, married a young woman of 
 our congregation, and moved on to become Vicar of St. Paul's 
 Church, Brookings, South Dakota. 
 
 80
 
 CHAPTER FOURTEEN 
 
 The Campaign 
 
 r\S FAR as I was concerned, the campaign for our new buildings 
 began shortly after my return from military service in 1919. It 
 was then that I arrived at the firm conviction that the quarters 
 that we then occupied would within a very few years become com- 
 pletely outgrown and inadequate. This was perhaps strange in view 
 of the fact that the Parish House in which we were then operating 
 was only five years old. But it was obvious that in 1914 there was 
 no idea of the rapidity of gro\\i;h of the community or of the 
 corresponding expansion of the parish, particularly of the Church 
 School. So my ' ' campaign ' ' began, very quietly and unostentatious- 
 ly at first. Just a suggestion here, a hint there, always in private 
 convei"sation, never in open, public pronouncement. 
 
 Gradually the idea began to take hold. Late in the 20's the 
 mind of the congregation, especially of the Vestry, was ready to 
 consider and possibly accept what must have seemed an extravagant 
 plan of positive, aggressive action. Of three facts I was sure : ( 1 ) 
 Whatever we did, it must be substantial enough and large enough 
 to satisfy the needs of the Parish for years ahead; (2) It must be 
 beautiful in architectural design; (3) The lot we then occupied 
 was not large enough to accommodate our new buildings. New and 
 larger property must be found and purchased as an essential part 
 of our project. The matter was finally brought before the Vestiy. 
 Almost without debate it was adopted. We were ready to sell it to 
 the congregation. We would go to the people of Christ Church and 
 ask them to contribute $300,000.00 for the construction of a new 
 Parish House, Chapel and Rectory on property presently to be 
 found and bought! 
 
 The first thing I had to do was to find the man who would 
 head up the projected campaign. I didn't have far to look. Clarence 
 Randall was my man. Since coming into the Parish, he had become 
 an enthusiastic, 100% Episcopalian. A great and devoted church- 
 
 81
 
 man. A born leader. A man gifted with exceptional fluency when 
 talking in public. True, he had never before attempted this kind 
 of financial campaign. But that didn't worry me. He would quickly 
 get hold of the techniques of the job. So I went one evening to call 
 on Clarence. He wasn't very hard to persuade or convince. Very 
 little urging was required. He accepted almost without question. 
 
 The next question was : Shall we engage the services of a firm 
 of professional money-raisers to organize and direct the campaign ? 
 This was the customary- procedure in many, perhaps most, instances 
 where so large an amount of money was to be raised. There were 
 those Avho said that we should and must, if we w^ere to entertain 
 hopes of success. I was opposed. In the fii^t place, I didn't feel 
 that we needed such outside assistance. I had watched Howells 
 Coffin in action during the Nation-Wide Campaign. I had had my 
 own experience during that campaign out on the West Coast. For 
 several years Bishop Anderson had entrusted to me the campaigns 
 that were carried on throughout the Diocese. I was sure that we 
 we should go it alone. Secondly, I couldn't bear the thought of 
 turning over to professionals the 10% of the money raised, which 
 was the customaiy fee that was charged for their services. I felt 
 that we could put that $30,000.00 to better use right here in our 
 parish. But finally, and by far most important, this was not to be 
 a mere money-raising job, which it would certainly become if pro- 
 fessional money-raisers w^ere employed. It was to be a great spir- 
 itual enterprise. We were not going out just to build new buildings; 
 we were committing ourselves to share, by sacrificial giving, in the 
 extension of the Kingdom of God. That was my essential purpose. 
 That was mj- dream. When this great task was brought to a success- 
 ful and final conclusion, the spiritual life of the people of Christ 
 Church would be raised to a level from which it would never recede. 
 I succeeded in making my point. It was decided by the Vestry 
 that we should proceed without outside help. 
 
 Incidentally, at just that time, the parish in Orange, New 
 Jersey, where I had been born and raised, was engaged in an effort 
 to raise the same amount of money that we were seeking, also for 
 the building of a new parish house. They had engaged the services 
 of professionals to run their campaign. I was asked, as one of the 
 young men of that parish to go into the ministry, to go east and 
 address one of their meetings. While there I had long talks with 
 
 82
 
 the man who was running their project. With his full knowledge 
 and consent I came back to my parish with my valise filled with 
 the printed material, letters, posters, instructions to team captains 
 and canvassers etc. which I had no hesitation in copying and using 
 in our Winnetka campaign. 
 
 Clarence went to work. With precision and care, he selected 
 the fifteen team captains that he needed; they in turn found and 
 appointed the members of their teams. As far as I know, every 
 man who was approached accepted this assignment without reluc- 
 tance or hesitation. 
 
 It was my understanding that, in any effort of this kind, if 
 it was to meet with success, 60% of the total amount to be raised 
 must come from 10% of the potential contributors. This was what 
 was coimnonly known as the Special Gifts List. In our case it 
 meant that approximately $200,000.00 must be secured from ap- 
 proximately forty people. They were to be called upon before 
 approach was made to the so-called rank-and-file. Within days, 
 four contributions, each for $25,000.00, were in hand. Mr. Mcllvaine 
 drew his check and handed it in. Mr. R. Floyd Clinch, our Junior 
 Warden, signed his pledge, to be redeemed over a five-year period. 
 He died before the five years were over, but his pledge was paid 
 in full by the executors of his estate. Albert Pierce also made his 
 contribution in cash. 
 
 The fourth $25,000.00 was particularly interesting. Mr. Lucius 
 Baker, an elderly Winnetkan of large means, was the father of a 
 young woman who was married in Christ Church to Austin Jenner, 
 the son of an Episcopal clergyman. Before her wedding she was 
 baptized, and later I presented her for Confirmation. Shortly there- 
 after, Mr. Baker entered the Evanston Hospital, where he was 
 cared for and lived for two or three years. Every time I went to 
 the hospital to call on the sick, I dropped into his room and we 
 talked. On one occasion he said to me, "Do you know, I have 
 never been baptized. Would you be willing to baptize me?" Of 
 course I was willing and I did, there in his hospital room. A few 
 days later I brought Bishop Anderson to the hospital and Mr. Baker 
 was confirmed. Shortly thereafter, during one of my visits, he 
 said to me, "In the Tribune I read this morning that the Episcopal 
 Church is going to build a new seminary in Evanston. That means 
 money. I should like to make a contribution." "I am delighted 
 
 83
 
 to hear it" I replied. "What would you like to contribute?" His 
 answer was "$25,000.00." I said, "That is a fine and generous 
 contribution, my friend, and I know that it will be gratefully 
 received. Now I want you to know that I expect that, before very 
 long, we shall be doing some building in our parish in Winnetka. 
 I hope that, when that time comes, you will be inclined to con- 
 tribute a like amount to Christ Church. " " Indeed I will, ' ' was his 
 reply. "You can count on it." As soon as I could reach a telephone 
 I called my friend Dean DeWitt of the Seminary and told him that 
 there was an elderly man in the Evanston Hospital who wanted to 
 give him $25,000.00, and I suggested that he get out there as soon 
 as possible and collect the money. That he did immediately and 
 the contribution to the new Seabury-Westem Seminary went into 
 the bank. 
 
 All this happened years before our campaign. I went to Mr. 
 Mcllvaine and told him what Mr. Baker had said to me. I asked 
 him to prepare a pledge that I could take to our generous friend 
 for his signature. Mr. Mcllvaine, one of the best informed laAvyers 
 in Chicago, knew his law and proceeded to tell me that, because 
 our project at that time was a mere unimplemented hope, he could 
 not prepare a document such as I suggested that would hold up 
 in the probate court. So there I was, with a verbal promise for 
 which there was no written commitment. 
 
 Now we come back to our Special Gifts List and to that fourth 
 $25,000.00 contribution. Mr. Baker had died, and Mrs. Austin 
 Jenner had inherited his estate. I called on Mrs. Jenner. I told her 
 the story of what her father had said to me that day in his hospital 
 room. She said to me, "You tell me that my father promised to 
 give $25,000.00 to Christ Church? That is good enough for me! 
 I shall redeem his promise." So our first $100,000.00 was in hand! 
 
 At last the time arrived to open our campaign. The Randall 
 organization was complete. Every man had received his instnictions 
 and was ready to go. Bishop Anderson had agreed to come out to 
 address the kick-off dinner meeting, that was to be held in Commu- 
 nity House on Thursday evening, October 31, 1929. On Wednesday 
 the 30th I was at my desk when my telephone rang. At the end 
 of the line was the voice of our Senior Warden telling me that 
 there was to be a special meeting of the Vestry that day at 12 
 o'clock, in the University Club, which I was to attend. I put every- 
 
 84
 
 thing aside, rushed into the City, and at noon walked into a private 
 dining-room of the Club to find my Vestry, with the exception of 
 one vestryman, awaiting my arrival. The meeting was called to 
 order and opened with the customaiy prayer. Mr. Mcllvaine turned 
 to me and said, "Rector, you probably don't know what has hap- 
 pened. The bottom has fallen out of the stock market. The New 
 York Stock Exchange has closed. The United States is faced with 
 the worst financial catastrophe in its history. We have brought 
 you here to tell you that our campaign must be called off. It would 
 be sheer folly for us to try to carry forward our plans!" 
 
 Words cannot express my thoughts and inner feelings as I sat 
 there and listened to those words. Here was something of which 
 I had dreamed and for which I had striven for ten long years. 
 All those dreams and all that striving were now threatened with 
 total and final defeat. If this enterprise, to which the people of 
 my parish were committed, were now suspended it could never be 
 revived within the fore-seeable future! I pulled myself together 
 and said, "Before we reach final action on the subject that is before 
 us, I want to hear the personal thoughts with complete and out- 
 spoken frankness of every man in this room." Starting with Mr. 
 Mcllvaine at my left, one after another spoke the three dreaded 
 words: "Call it off!" Everj' one, until they came to the last man, 
 seated at my right. Victor Elting rose to his feet and in a few 
 well-chosen words, preached the most thrilling sermon I have ever 
 heard. I can't repeat word-for-word what he said, but I can give 
 its substance. He said, "Gentlemen, I must stand on my feet to 
 say what I have to say. For months our Rector has been telling 
 us that we were about to engage in an enterprise that involved 
 something more than the raising of $300,000.00 for the building 
 of new buildings. He has been saying again and again that what 
 we are about is a great spiritual effort that, if successful, will re- 
 vitalize the spiritual life of the people of Christ Church. He has 
 challenged us to accept our responsibility, as members of a Christian 
 Church, for the building of the Kingdom of God! I, for one, have 
 believed every word he has spwken. We, the wardens and vestrymen 
 of Christ Church, are the responsible representatives of this Chris- 
 tian congregation. Do we dare lo say that we are willing to permit 
 something that has happened in Wall Street to threaten the things 
 that pertain to the Kingdom of God? Gentlemen, I am amazed and 
 shocked by what I have heard you say." And he sat down! 
 
 85
 
 Forthwith the vote was taken. By unanimous action, the Vestry 
 voted to go ahead as planned. The following evening we had our 
 meeting in Community House. There were some 400 eager, enthu- 
 siastic members of Christ Church present. Bishop Anderson made 
 one of his characteristically-stirring addresses. Clarence and his 
 well-instructed and organized teams went out into every home in 
 the Parish. At the end of two weeks, he reported that there were 
 gifts and pledges totalling $326,000.00! 
 
 But this wasn't the end of it. Attached to every pledge that 
 was made were two stipulations. They were redeemable only when 
 and if two conditions were fulfilled : ( 1 ) the entire amount must 
 be subscribed. (2) The property at Oak and Linden Streets must be 
 sold and the new property that had been found two blocks east, 
 covering the entire frontage on Maple Avenue between Oak and 
 Cherry Streets, must be purchased. The first condition had been 
 fulfilled. We had not found a buyer for the old property. 
 
 A few evenings after the conclusion of the campaign, the 
 Vestry met to consider this problem. We were all aware of the fact 
 that, if it were generally knoMTi that we had to sell our property 
 before the pledges could be considered redeemable, we would not 
 be able to derive from the sale what we hoped it might bring in. For 
 a long hour the problem was discussed without any satisfactory 
 solution having been found. Then Albert Pierce spoke up. "What 
 do you hope to secure from the sale of this property?" he asked. 
 "$125,000.00" was the answer he received. He drew from his pocket 
 his check-book, made out and signed a check in the amount of 
 $125,000.00, drawn to the order of Christ Church, signed it, and 
 said, "Gentlemen, I am buying your property. Now you can sell 
 it for me. There is no hurry about it. Take your time. If, when 
 you sell, you sell for less than this, I shall take the loss. If you 
 sell for more, you can take the profit." Within a week the property 
 was sold to the Illinois Bell Telephone Company for $125,000.00. 
 
 So ended the most exciting and most satisfying experience of 
 my Winnetka ministry. Don Dallas was appointed Chairman of 
 the Building Committee; Albert Pierce, Chairman of the Finance 
 Committee. Mr. Charles Collens of Boston, one of the outstanding 
 gothicists in the United States, was employed as our architect. On a 
 beautiful spring Sunday morning, I led the congregation after 
 our morning service in the church on Sheridan Road to our new 
 
 86
 
 property on Maple Avenue and there, in a solemn ceremony, we 
 offered our thanks to God and broke ground for our new buildings. 
 In the fall we laid the corner-stone in the wall of the chapel. In the 
 spring of 1931, with glad and grateful hearts, we moved into our 
 new parish home. 
 
 87
 
 CHAPTER FIFTEEN 
 
 Whom Shall We Trust? 
 
 JdOB was an exceptional lad. This was not his real name. For 
 obvious reasons as my story unfolds that must be withheld. He, his 
 mother and father and sister were members of Christ Church. I 
 baptized him as an infant. He was trained in our Church School. 
 I instructed him and presented him for Confirmation. He grew to 
 be a strikingly handsome lad in his teens. He became our crucifer 
 and I can see him now as he strode down the aisle with proud 
 dignity, carrying the cross in the procession before the choir. 
 
 When he graduated from New Trier, Bob decided that he must 
 not undertake a college education. He was unwilling to permit his 
 parents, who were people of limited means, to make the financial 
 sacrifice that his four years in college w^ould involve. It was a hard 
 decision to make. He was an excellent student and he graduated 
 from high school in the top 10% of his class. But he was sure that 
 he was right; and he found a job with the Swift & Co. organization 
 and was sent out to their plant in Omaha. 
 
 I had frequent letters from him while he was in Omaha. He 
 was immensely enthusiastic and happy about what he was doing. 
 Two years went by. I had a letter from him telling me that he had 
 met and married a beautiful girl. At least, he said she was beauti- 
 ful, and I was quite ready to take his word for it. A year later 
 word came from Omaha that Bob's lovely wife had died while 
 giving birth to their child. 
 
 A broken-hearted lad returned to his family in Winnetka, 
 transferred to the Swift offices in Chicago. He seemed to find 
 comfort in the parish, in which he had grown up and which he 
 loved. He seemed to be recovering from the tragic blow that had 
 fallen on him in Omaha. Just two months after his return, his 
 father took a gun in his hands and shot himself through the head. 
 This second tragedy was apparently too much for that fine lad to 
 
 88
 
 stand np to. I was not a psychiatrist; but it didn't take a psy- 
 chiatrist to see that Bob's mental and nervous constitution was 
 shaken to the foundations. 
 
 Weeks went by. It was a Sunday morning. I had returned to 
 the Rectory from our morning Service and was about to sit down 
 for our Sunday lunch. The door-bell rang. There stood Bob's 
 mother, tears streaming down her cheeks. Bob has been arrested. 
 He was in jail in the Winnetka police station, charged with theft. 
 
 1 went immediately to see him and to find out from him what 
 had happened and why. He was completely frank with me. He 
 acknowledged that for weeks he had been signing his mother's 
 name to checks and having them cashed at various places in 
 Winnetka and Chicago. He had also stolen money from his em- 
 ployers. He made no excuses for what he had done, was utterly 
 contrite, humiliated, crushed. The next day he was transferred 
 to the Cook County jail in Chicago. There I went to see and to 
 talk with him again and again. There was no money available to 
 pay for the services of a defense counsel. The court appointed a 
 public defender. 
 
 Through the weeks before the trial was to start, I called on 
 everyone of the people w'ho had cashed the checks that Bob had 
 presented. Most of them were "Winnetka people. Some were shops 
 in Chicago. In each instance I spoke of the lad I had known through 
 the years in Christ Church ; I asserted my continuing confidence in 
 him in spite of what he had done; I told about the dual tragedies 
 to which he had been subjected and which, I was so very sure, 
 were responsible for his moral collapse. Everyone to whom I went 
 agreed not to prosecute, until I reached the offices of the bonding 
 company which had Bob under bond as an employee of Swift & Co. 
 There I was told that there could be no withdrawal of charges and 
 that the trial must proceed. 
 
 At last the day arrived. I was called into court to offer my 
 testimony. It was my first and only appearance in a court of law. 
 When I was called to the witness stand I repeated, as clearly and 
 as forcefully as I could, what I had been saying again and again. 
 I was convinced that this young man, although under the law he 
 was guilty as charged, was the victim of the two tragedies that 
 had befallen him. As I finished my testimony, the judge called me 
 
 89
 
 into his chambers. He told me that he felt sure that I was right 
 about why this had happened, and he asked me. if Bob were released 
 and placed in my custody, would I accept the responsibility for his 
 rehabilitation. This I gladly agreed to do. Bob was declared guilty, 
 his sentence was suspended. Now it was up to me. 
 
 The first thing was to find him a job. I told him that every 
 cent that he had unlawfully taken must be returned. With this he 
 agreed. I went to Clarence Randall and told him in detail the 
 whole story of Bob. He did exactly what I had every reason to 
 believe he would do. He found a job for Bob in the Indiana Harbor 
 mills of the Inland Steel Company. It was hard, manual labor. 
 There wasn't large pay. But week after week, as Bob received his 
 wages, he took everything he could find outside of his actual living 
 expenses, and he went to one after another of those who had 
 cashed his forged checks and little by little returned the money 
 he had stolen. 
 
 A year later came the attack on Pearl Harbor; the United 
 States was in the War; Bob was drafted for military service. He 
 went into camp for his training as a private in the army of his 
 Country. One day he wrote to tell me that he had been accepted 
 for further training in an officers' training camp. Then, one Sunday 
 morning, there he was in our congregation, proudly wearing his 
 uniform with the gold bars on his shoulders. Shortly thereafter 
 he was sent out into the Pacific theatre of operations where, for 
 eighteen months, he was engaged in constant combat action. The 
 War over, he was returned to the States and stationed at a camp 
 on the West Coast. On his chest he wore two medals that had been 
 awarded to him for braver^-. Since then he has remarried and has 
 two fine children. He elected to remain in the Army and, when I 
 last heard from him, he was a Captain stationed at a camp in New 
 England. It is a satisfaction to entertain the sure knowledge that 
 my confidence in Bob had been justified and that his rehabilitation, 
 for which I assumed the responsibility, is complete. 
 
 90
 
 CHAPTER SIXTEEN 
 
 What Do Ton Mean — Investment? 
 
 It would be difficult to imagine two more radically dif- 
 ferent types of human beings than Phil and Father David Gibson. 
 Phil was a worldling — highly cultured, sophisticated, self-centered. 
 David was a totally dedicated Christian. He came nearer genuine 
 sainthood than any other person I have ever known. The son of 
 well-to-do parents in the east, Phil had received his preparatory 
 education in one of the exclusive eastern schools and was a graduate 
 of an Ivy League university. David grew up on the streets of 
 Chicago's west side and his formal education ended when he finished 
 high school. Phil was engaged in the investment business on La 
 Salle Street and had been highly successful. David was a penniless 
 priest of the Church, housed in two sparsely furnished rooms on 
 the upper floor of the Cathedral Shelter, his priesthood committed 
 to a ministry to the wretchedly depraved and underprivileged out 
 of whose ranks he had himself come. The coming-together of these 
 two men was probably the most dramatic episode of my Winnetka 
 ministry. 
 
 Phil and his beautiful wife, Kathryn, with their two young 
 children, moved out to the North Shore in the mid-twenties to 
 make their home on one of the more expansive Winnetka estates. 
 Shortly after their arrival, the two children were enrolled in our 
 Church School, which resulted in my calling in their lovely home. 
 When I asked about their church affiliation and interest, I was told 
 with complete frankness that they had had no previous affiliation, 
 that neither of them had been either baptized or confirmed, that 
 they were not interested in the Church. They had the idea, that was 
 not infrequently expressed by others under similar circumstances, 
 that they wanted their children to have some religious training but 
 that they themselves were aware of no need of what the Church 
 had to offer. When I said that they could hardly expect our min- 
 
 91
 
 istry to their children to have any appreciable effect unless we had 
 the active interest and cooperation of their children's parents — 
 unless what was said to those two children in our Church School 
 on Sunday morning was reflected and reinforced by what they 
 experienced in the home in which they lived — my words fell on deaf 
 ears. 
 
 As time went on, Dorothy and I saw a good deal of Phil and his 
 wife socially. We had many mutual friends. We played bridge with 
 them ; we swam with them in the lake ; we entertained them in our 
 rectory and there were barbecue suppers with them on their beach. 
 If and when the subject of religion and the Church came up in the 
 course of our conversation, it was skillfully and carefully averted. 
 It was a subject with which they were simply not concerned and 
 which they found both uninteresting and embarrassing. 
 
 It was on one such occasion, when Dorothy and Kathryn were 
 chatting together after dinner and Phil and I were together in the 
 patio of their home, that I said, ' ' Phil, I am going to say something 
 to you that will probably shock you. I hope it won't annoy you. 
 I am impelled to say it nevertheless. You are in the business of 
 investment. You have given your life to the problems involved in 
 the investment of money. You have worked hard and your efforts 
 have been richly rewarded. I am a clergyman, and as such I am 
 not supposed to know anything about this business in which you are 
 so deeply involved and about which you know so much. I am con- 
 vinced that you don't know what the term investment can really 
 mean ! ' ' 
 
 It was a bold, brash remark, but it was deliberate. I meant it to 
 be shocking as it undoubtedly was. It was part of a campaign that 
 had been at work in my mind for weeks. Jesus knew enough about 
 fishing to know that the bait you use depends upon the kind of fish 
 you want to catch and upon the way you use it. I had been using 
 the wrong bait. Now I would use another. 
 
 "Go on" said Phil, "tell me more. You say that I don't know 
 what investment really means. Tell me what you think it means." 
 ' ' To you ' ' I replied, * ' investment means putting money to work to 
 make more money. It has never occurred to you that it can mean 
 more, much more, than that. You have never come to grips with 
 the fact that investment may mean putting money to work to re- 
 
 92
 
 deem and save human life." "Frankly" said my host, "I don't 
 know what you are driving at. How can I invest money to save life, 
 and if I can, why should I ? " " I am not going to try to answer your 
 question with words," I said. "But I shall show you what I am talk- 
 ing about. What about lunch next Tuesday? If I call for you at your 
 office next Tuesday noon will you go with me where I shall take you 
 and lunch with me?" "Gladly" said Phil. "I shall be looking for 
 you." 
 
 Now I must return for a moment to David Gibson. In his teens 
 he had been brought in off the streets of the west side through the 
 efforts of the Very Rev. Walter T. Sumner, Dean of the Cathedral 
 of SS. Peter and Paul at the corner of Washington Boulevard and 
 Peoria Street. He might so easily have become a juvenile delinquent, 
 a member of one of the west side gangs, ultimately an habitue of 
 Skid Row. Through the extraordinarily wise and consecrated min- 
 istry of Dean Sumner, he was rescued. He was baptized and con- 
 firmed, served at the altar, became a devoted and enthusiastic mem- 
 ber of the Cathedral congregation. One day he walked into the 
 office of Bishop Anderson and said, "Bishop, I want to be a priest 
 in Christ's Church. Will you accept me as a candidate for Holy 
 Orders?" 
 
 It was a strange request. Ordinarily in the Episcopal Church, 
 young men are not accepted for ordination unless they have had 
 a full four-year education in college and three years in an 
 accredited theological seminary. Here was a man whose formal 
 education had gone no further than high school, standing in the 
 presence of his bishop and saying, ' ' Such as I have, I give. ' ' Bishop 
 Anderson was wise enough to recognize pure gold when he saw it. 
 David Gibson's offer of himself was accepted. In due course, he 
 knelt at the altar of the Cathedral which he loved and surrendered 
 his life to his Saviour as a priest in the Church. 
 
 Shortly after my coming to Winnetka, a disastrous fire de- 
 stroyed the Cathedral of SS. Peter and Paul. Nothing was left 
 standing except the clergy house in the rear on Peoria Street. To 
 the Diocese of Chicago, it was an unrelieved disaster. To David 
 Gibson the saving of that clergy house was an act of God. Here 
 was the place from which he might exercise the ministry upon which 
 his heart was set — a ministry to the wretched underprivileged from 
 whom he had come and to whom he must give the remaining years 
 
 93
 
 of his life. Again he went to his bishop, this time to lay before him 
 his plan for the establishing of what was to be known as the 
 Cathedral Shelter. The plan was formally adopted by the Diocese 
 and within a short time, the Shelter was in active operation under 
 the direction of Father David Gibson. 
 
 Now for my luncheon date with Phil. At noon on Tuesday, I 
 drove my car to his office building on La Salle Street. He was 
 waiting for me, climbed in, and we drove — north on La Salle, west 
 on Washington Boulevard, through the tunnel under the North- 
 western Railroad tracks, on and out to the Peoria Street corner. 
 This was an area in the City of Chicago that my friend had never 
 before seen. As he sat by my side, the expression on his face showed 
 increasing bewilderment. More and more he wondered what could 
 be in my mind as we drove on into this God-forsaken neighborhood. 
 I had already told David that I was bringing a friend to meet him 
 and, if possible and agreeable to him, to lunch with him. I parked 
 my car in front of the Shelter ; together we walked through the 
 front door, through the hall, into the office. As I introduced the 
 two men, David said, "Come with me." He led us down the hall- 
 way, into the chapel, up to the altar step, and said, ' ' Please kneel. ' ' 
 Before he realized what was happening, Phil found himself doing 
 something that he had never before done. He was kneeling silently 
 before an altar in a house of God! 
 
 And David stood at the altar and prayed. He prayed for Phil, 
 his wife and children, the security and sanctity of his home, his 
 business. He prayed for me, my wife and family, my parish and 
 its people. He took two small crosses from his pocket, blessed them, 
 turned and hung them about our necks. Then he placed his hands 
 on our heads and pronounced the benediction. As we rose from our 
 knees, I looked at Phil and saw tears on his cheeks. "Now," said 
 David, "I must show you what we have here at the Shelter." He 
 took us to the attic room where were stored the various articles of 
 wearing apparel with which the men and women who came to him 
 in rags were to be reclothed — suits and dresses, underwear, shirts, 
 shoes. He led us into the rooms on the second floor with their beds, 
 where his people might sleep until rehabilitated. Then to the dining 
 room for our lunch. It was not what Phil was accustomed to. It bore 
 little resemblance to his luncheon club in the Loop. It was meager 
 
 94
 
 fare, but it was eaten with relish. And as we ate, David talked in 
 terms of statistics about his work and ministry ; how many men 
 and women had come into the Shelter during the past year ; how 
 many clothed ; how many meals served ; how many services held ; 
 how many jobs found for the unemployed. He went on to recount 
 the number of calls that had been made in hospitals and jails, the 
 number of homes visited, the hours spent tirelessly to meet the 
 never-ceasing demands of his unrelenting ministry. 
 
 Then Phil spoke. "But Father Gibson, all this must cost money. 
 Where do you find the funds with which all this that you have 
 been telling us about is financed?" It was the question that I had 
 been waiting for. David was queer about the financial operations of 
 the Shelter. Bishop Anderson, the Diocesan Council — nobody ever 
 seemed able to uncover the sources of income. All we could ever get 
 from him was "This is God's work. Because it is His work, He 
 will provide." And apparently He did, through the unending efforts 
 of David Gibson in his appeals to people, whoever and wherever 
 they were, who heard about what he was doing and gave in amounts 
 both large and small. That was about all we could derive by way of 
 answer to Phil "s question. 
 
 It was time to leave. I had to get back to my parish and Phil 
 to his office. As we arose to express our appreciation of Avhat we had 
 seen and heard, Phil drew his checkbook from his pocket, made out 
 and signed a check to the order of the Cathedral Shelter, and 
 handed it to our host. He said, "Father Gibson, I want to invest 
 in this enterprise." And as he said it, he looked at me, and he 
 smiled. 
 
 95
 
 CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 
 
 The New Churchyard 
 
 W HEN the Garland gift was accepted by the Bishop of Chicago, 
 and for several years thereafter, it seems generally to have been 
 assumed that the triangular section of the property, extending 
 some 100 feet north from the church to Lloyd Place, would even- 
 tually be the location of a home for the pastor. As time passed, 
 however, it became obvious that the operating headquarters of the 
 parish should be established nearer the geographical center of the 
 community. Consequently, in January 1900 during the rect orate 
 of Mr. Moore, a house and its adjoining property at the corner 
 of Oak and Linden Streets were purchased, and there the rectory 
 was placed. In 1914 a parish house and chapel were erected on the 
 western section of that property. 
 
 After I came to the Parish, I found myself becoming increas- 
 ingly concerned about that 100-foot frontage on Sheridan Road. 
 It was completely unimproved and uncared-for. Overgrown with 
 weeds and ill-assorted shrubbery, the only use to which it was 
 put was a place where rubbish from the church was hauled out 
 and burned. Surely, I came to feel — and I am sure that my 
 thoughts were shared by many others of the congregation — that 
 something could and should be done to make better and more 
 appropriate use of that valuable piece of property. From time 
 to time the matter was taken under consideration by the Vestry 
 without any practical solution of the problem being uncovered. 
 At long last what we were looking for came to light in a letter 
 that I received from Ernest Ballard, at the time one of our 
 vestrymen, dated April 5, 1934. In it he said, "I propose that 
 .serious consideration be given to the setting up of a plan by which, 
 upon the making of a contribution on a stated basis to the Parish, 
 members of the Parish be permitted to erect memorials on the 
 Church property on Sheridan Road and to dispose of the ashes 
 of their beloved dead on that property." He continued, "Such an 
 
 96
 
 arrangement, elaborated and provided for in a proper manner, 
 would meet the needs of many families in the Parish who have 
 come from other parts of the world and who are seriously per- 
 plexed by the problem of the burial of their loved ones." 
 
 It was a startling suggestion. It not only meant that at long 
 last our valuable property might be improved and beautified; but 
 more important, it meant that members of our congregation, who 
 had come from distant places to make their permanent homes in 
 Winnetka and who had made no provision locally for the burial 
 of the mortal remains of their beloved dead, might find such pro- 
 vision here, under the eaves of the church where they worshipped 
 in the place that they loved. It was this that w-as especially in 
 Ernest's mind when he made his brilliant suggestion. It awoke an 
 immediate and generally favorable response when it was presented 
 to the Vestry at a meeting a day or two after I received the letter. 
 A committee was appointed, to act under the chairmanship of 
 Ernest Ballard, consisting of William T. Bacon, Hill Blackett, 
 William S. Elliott and Rollin D. Wood. William B. Mcllvaine, our 
 Senior Warden, and Stanley Eich, Clerk of the Vestry, Avere in- 
 cluded as ex-officio membere of the committee. This group of men 
 was charged with the immediate responsibility of making an 
 exhaustive study of the proposal and of determining its practi- 
 cability from every possible angle. Such a study had to be made 
 before the project could be presented to the members of the con- 
 gregation as an operating project. 
 
 For four years the committee carried forward its investigation. 
 Very soon it was made clear that there were serious and difficult 
 obstacles that had to be overcome. First was a village ordinance 
 that forbade burials within the corporate limits of the Village, and 
 the proposed plan was brought before the Village Council. There 
 it was determined that the ordinance was intended to apply to the 
 possible establishment of commercial cemeteries in the Village and 
 was not intended to prevent private burials in private property. 
 As long as the proposed use of our church property was restricted 
 to members of the congregation, it did not conflict with existing 
 village law. 
 
 Next was the question of possible taxation. Our Sheridan Road 
 property was not subject to federal, state or municipal tax as long 
 
 97
 
 as it was used by the Church for exclusively religious purposes. 
 If permits were issued for burial in our churchyard following 
 financial payments that were made to secure those permits, would 
 our property then be put to commercial use and become therefore 
 subject to taxation? The question was submitted by the committee 
 to the appropriate authorities and an answer favorable to the 
 Parish was received. 
 
 But now we were confronted by our most difficult obstacle. 
 The original Garland deed contained two clearly specified conditions 
 which were acknowledged by Bishop McLaren when the gift was 
 accepted. First, the property and the church that was located on 
 it must for all time be used by the Church for the purpose of public 
 worship. And second, for all time members of the Garland family 
 and their descendants should have the right of burial in that church- 
 yard. Did our proposed plan conflict with the second of these two 
 conditions? 
 
 Months were required to resolve this difficulty. Members of 
 the Garland clan had drifted away from Winnetka and were scat- 
 tered not only throughout the United States, but also in many 
 foreign countries. They had to be found, written to, told of our 
 plan, and their consents had to be received before we could proceed. 
 One of them, a Mr. Charles Eastman, was found living in Winnetka. 
 Through him the names and current addresses of others were 
 secured. To each one a letter went out. Gradually the answers 
 came back, and in every instance the consent was given. Not content 
 with this, the committee decided upon one final item of procedure. 
 A friendly suit was entered in the Circuit Court of Cook County 
 seeking formal legal approval of our project. In due course a court 
 decree was issued, holding it to be a proper Church use within the 
 deed under which the Sheridan Road property is held as a gift 
 from John Garland and his wife, providing interment permits were 
 restricted to members of Christ Church and their families. 
 
 Now we were ready to go forward. At a meeting of the 
 committee on February 2, 1939, specific functions were assigned 
 to its various members and Mr. Ralph Rodney Root, a landscape 
 architect well-known in the Chicago area, was employed to prepare 
 plans and specifications for the development of our new church- 
 yard. Mr. Root proceeded immediately with his assigned task and 
 
 98
 
 his blue-prints, when they were presently laid before the committee, 
 were unanimously and enthusiastically approved. On May 17, 1939, 
 a letter was addressed by the committee to all members of the 
 congregation, informing them of the progress that had been made 
 on our project and enclosing a return card for the use of those 
 who wished to express their interest by the purchase of a burial 
 permit. The response to this letter gave clear indication of the desire 
 of our people to support the plan as outlined by the committee and 
 to have as their own the new and beautiful churchyard. In July, 
 the committee voted unanimously to proceed with the construction. 
 The work was completed that December, at which time enough per- 
 mits had been sold and contributions received to defray the total 
 construction costs. 
 
 On December 17, 1941, steps were taken to guarantee the 
 continuing maintenance and care of the property as it had been 
 developed. A trust fund was set up and an agreement was entered 
 into between the Rector, Church Wardens and Vestrymen of Christ 
 Church and the Northern Trust Company in Chicago. By this 
 agreement the principal of the fund was to be invested and the 
 income was to be used to defray the costs of this care. The principal, 
 which was to be derived from the sale of permits and contributions, 
 was to be allowed to accumulate until it reached the amount of 
 $38,000. Beyond that sum, it could be used for other parish purposes 
 as determined by the Vestry. 
 
 Now it became evident that a special group of women should 
 be found, to whom should be assigned the responsibility of caring 
 for our churchyard throughout the year. In the autumn of 1940, 
 this Churchyard Guild, as it came to be known, was appointed. The 
 Chairman was Mrs. Raymond E. Durham and the other members 
 were Mrs. Ernest S. Ballard, Mrs. Hill Blackett, Mrs. William W. 
 Darrow, Mrs. William S. Elliott, Mrs. Langdon Pearse and Mrs. 
 John N. Vander Vries. Through the years the loving care as ex- 
 pressed by this group of women and the labor that has been per- 
 formed, most largely by their own hands, in planting, weeding, 
 trimming and in many other ways, have constituted an invaluable 
 service to our beloved parish. There have been additions to the 
 Guild from time to time. Each year a letter has been addressed to 
 the members of the congregation seeking additional funds for the 
 
 99
 
 maintenance of the churchyard. Because of his other heavy respon- 
 sibilities both at our Sheridan Road and our Maple Avenue prop- 
 erties, Larsen was relieved of all duties in our new churchyard and 
 a gardner, Paul Weiler, was employed to care for the area exclu- 
 sively. In the autumn of 1942, Mrs. Rollin D. Wood succeeded Mrs. 
 Durham as Chairman of the Guild, and she continued to serve 
 throughout the following eighteen years. 
 
 So the Ballard dream was fulfilled. It was and is a Garden of 
 Remembrance, not a cemetery. It spoke and speaks of life, not 
 death. It proclaims the Christian faith in Life Eternal as that faith 
 is proclaimed not only year after year on Easter Day, but every 
 Lord's Day week after week. Nothing, I am sure, that happened 
 in our Parish during the thirty-seven years of my ministry in 
 Winnetka served more effectively to strengthen the faith of our 
 people and to cement their personal attachment to their parish. 
 
 When Dorothy and I learned of the death of our son, Ted, in 
 December, 1944, we wanted to place a memorial in the Churchyard 
 which would express his love for the parish in which he had grown 
 up as well as our own sure confidence in his continuing life. We 
 decided upon a marble plate, into which would be cut the words 
 of a prayer which I had used again and again through the years 
 and which had brought comfort and reassurance to many in the 
 hours of their bereavement. With the consent of our Vestry, our 
 desire was fulfilled and the prayer is now there, set in the pavement 
 in the shadow of the cross at the north end of the garden : 
 
 We seem to give him back to Thee, dear God, who gavest 
 him to us. Yet, as Thou didst not lose him by the giving, neither 
 have we lost him by his return. Not as the world giveth givest 
 Thou, Thou Lover of Souls. For what is Thine is ours always, 
 if we are Thine. And life is eternal; and love is immortal; and 
 death is only an horizon ; and an horizon is naught save the 
 limit of our sight. Lift us up, strong Son of God, that we may 
 see further. Cleanse our eyes that we may see more clearly. 
 Draw us closer to Thyself, that we may know ourselves nearer 
 to those who are now with Thee. And, as Thou hast prepared a 
 place for us, so do Thou prepare us for that happy place, that 
 where they are and where Thou art we too may be. Amen. 
 
 100
 
 CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 
 
 At War On The Home Front 
 
 On DECEMBER 8, 1941, the United States declared war on 
 Japan. At last our country was actively involved in World War II. 
 During the first War, I was away from my parish, too far removed 
 and too busily involved in my duties as chaplain to maintain con- 
 tact with my parish or to exercise my pastoral ministry. This time, 
 age precluded my active involvement. Therefore I registered a 
 resolution : as long as the War lasted, I would do everything in my 
 power to establish and to maintain continuous and helpful pastoral 
 contact with every man of my parish who went out into military 
 service, as long as that service continued. He was to be an object 
 of my pastoral concern from the day of his enlistment until his 
 return — if he did return. 
 
 To this end I arranged a personal talk with each of these men 
 before he left Winnetka. At this time I urged him to keep in touch 
 with me through the mails, as I assured him that I would maintain 
 that contact from my end; I promised that we at home would have 
 him ever in our thoughts and prayers; and I presented to him a 
 copy of the Soldiers and Sailors Prayer Book that had been put out 
 by the War Commission of the Episcopal Church and, later, a small 
 metal cross that he could hang with his dog-tag around his neck. 
 When such a personal interview could not be arranged, a letter 
 went out from my office, enclosing the Prayer Book and cross. 
 
 I was particularly anxious that the people of the parish should 
 know and be constantly reminded of who these men were. We had 
 a beautifully-designed board made and placed on the north wall of 
 the church, in full view of the congregation, on which were lettered 
 in gold leaf the names of our men in service. Week after week more 
 names were added as more and more men went out. Three times 
 the board had to be enlarged. Gold stars were placed opposite the 
 names of the men who were not to return. By the end of the War 
 the board contained 346 names and sixteen gold stars. At the close 
 
 101
 
 GOLD STAR MEN 
 
 Robert Bowen Brown, Jr. 
 
 James Sallee Browne 
 
 John Hutchison Darrow 
 
 Malcolm Whitlock Duncan
 
 GOLD STAR MEN 
 
 William Sprague Eddy, Jr. Edward Ashley Gerhard, Jr. 
 
 Frederick Charles Gordon George Kellogg Hooker
 
 GOLD STAR MEN 
 
 Stanley P. Klores 
 no picture available 
 
 A . L 
 
 Samuel Adams Lynde III 
 
 Donald Macomber 
 
 Claude Seymour Reebie
 
 GOLD STAR MEN 
 
 Earl Seymour Wharton Reebie William V. Scribner 
 
 David S. Strong 
 
 Richard Everett Thatcher
 
 of every morning service, with the flag held at attention at the altar 
 rail, as the congregation knelt, the listing was read in a prayer for 
 the safety of our men and on our knees the hymn was sung : 
 
 O God of love, king of peace. 
 Make wars throughout the world to cease; 
 The wrath of sinful man restrain, 
 Give peace, God, give peace again! 
 
 Remember, Lord, thy works of old, 
 The wonders that our fathers told; 
 Remember not our sin's dark stain, 
 Give peace, God, give peace again! 
 
 Whom shall we trust but thee, Lord? 
 Where rest but on thy faithful word? 
 None ever called on thee in vain, 
 Give peace, O God, give peace again! 
 
 After the War was over, Mr. George E. Frazer offered to have 
 this board reproduced in bronze and to give it to the Parish as a 
 perpetual memorial. His offer was gratefully accepted; and it is 
 now to be seen on the wall of the vestibule, at the south entrance 
 to the church. Shortly thereafter, by popular subscription, funds 
 were raised for the re-construction of the steps leading up to this 
 south entrance, to complete the Frazer memorial with special refer- 
 ence to the sixteen gold star men. 
 
 On May 1, 1942 I prepared a listing of our men who were then 
 in war service, indicating in each instance the military assignment 
 of the man whose name was listed and his military address. Those 
 men had grown up as lads in our congregation. They were most of 
 them close personal friends. My thought was simply that they 
 would be interested in knowing who and where they were. There 
 were 71 names on the list. Almost immediately — on May 20, to be 
 exact — I had a letter from David Hoffman from which I quote: 
 "Yesterday I had an idea which might interest you and which may 
 have been suggested to you already. Providing that the incoming 
 mail warrants it, a letter could be mimeographed and mailed to 
 those on your list once a month, such a letter to consist chiefly of 
 short paragraphs concerning the activities of members in the service. 
 After a couple of letters, I think the idea would catch on and the 
 church would become a clearing house of news of the members." 
 
 102
 
 Interesting idea indeed! On June 1, and thereafter on the first 
 of every month, the expanded bulletin went out. It contained the 
 names and addresses of the men who had gone out during the 
 previous month, changes of address, items of interest as they came 
 into my office. I quote a few of such items selected at random as 
 they appeared in the June 1st mailing : 
 
 Roy Emerson Bard Jr. is in training as a machinist's mate at 
 the Glenview Air Field. Joseph Addison Moller is a Major in the 
 Army Air Corps — address, Warren Hotel, Indianapolis, Ind. Henry 
 Augustus Carpenter Jr., Marshall Forrest Jr., Robert Kitchell 
 Strong and James Roy West have been inducted into the Army — 
 addresses unknown for the present. 
 
 Ted Ballard now has his commission as Ensign in the Naval 
 Reserve and is teaching at Abbott Hall, Chicago, where he gradu- 
 ated on May 14. 
 
 A fine letter from John Danley at Camp Forrest. He says, "On 
 looking over your list, I tried to recall where some of the Sea Scouts 
 from the S.S.S. 'Albatross' are. (The 'Albatross' was the sailboat 
 on which our Scouts cruised on Lake Michigan.) There are to my 
 knowledge two in the Coast Guard, three in the Navy, and one 
 naval aviator. Four are in the Army and one Army aviator who 
 has been in the Pacific and the Philippines. Not a bad score." 
 
 At Camp Wolters is Fred Greeley, a private in Company D, 
 52nd Infantry Training Battalion. Fred discovered Lloyd Schipfer 
 there at Camp Wolters through the previous list that we sent. He 
 writes: "When one is so far from home and may have to face the 
 possibility of being much further, it is always enjoyable (sic) to 
 find those about you with whom one has the common ties of home." 
 
 Ted Gerhard, an Ensign in the Naval Reserve, was in the 
 Manila area at the time of the Corregidor capitulation. He is listed 
 by the Navy Department as missing, pending further information. 
 Dorothy Gerhard, a 2nd Lieutenant in the Army Nursing Corps, 
 is stationed at the William Beaumont Hospital, El Paso, Texas. 
 
 Jonathan Strong, writing from Fort Knox, Ky. where he is 
 assigned to 6th Company, O.C.S., says : "They try to put four years 
 of West Point into thirteen weeks, and it's a job." Thanks, Jon, for 
 your fine letter. 
 
 Bob Brown's name is not on our list because, with his family, 
 he moved from our parish a year ago to Gambler, Ohio. But he 
 was raised in this parish and loved Christ Church. He was an Army 
 test pilot and was killed while testing a new plane over Texas early 
 in March. On May 24 we dedicated a very beautiful new Ameri- 
 
 103
 
 can flag in memory of Bob, which from now on will stand in our 
 choir and will be regularly carried in the choir procession. 
 
 This from the July 1st bulletin: 
 
 I hope that this information will help Bob Steinhoff and Mar- 
 shall Forrest to find each other there at Fort Monmouth. And 
 George Connor, Henry Carpenter, Bob Strong and Roy West to 
 get together out at Fort Francis Warren in Wyoming. Malcolm 
 Haven, you will find not only David Hertel but also John Holland 
 there in the Training School in Miami Beach. And how about you 
 three fellows at Camp Wolters, Texas: Lieut. David Gallagher in 
 the Infantry Replacement Center; Fred Greeley, a private in Com- 
 pany D, 52nd Infantry Training Battalion; and Lloyd Schipfer, a 
 private in Company C, 59th Infantry, 1st Platoon. 
 
 John Reilly finished his training at Fort Sill, Oklahoma on 
 June 30th. He promises to let me have his new assignment when 
 he knows what it is to be. I am glad to have him say this : "As 
 we move on, I want you to know that my choir days and member- 
 ship in Christ Church are held in my mind wherever I go. I have 
 travelled in many directions during the past few years, but I have 
 never found the equal of our parish and the good old church on 
 the hill." 
 
 This was the first time, as far as I can recall, that that term 
 was ever applied to our church. But it was not to be the last. Again 
 and again, in letters that came in from our men at the front, affec- 
 tionate reference was made, and is still made, to the Church-on- 
 the-Hill. 
 
 This from the August bulletin : 
 
 Jared Danley's first letter came through this month, written 
 from Hawaii. Says, "Here in the Army we are interested in just 
 two things : complete defeat of the Axis and going home. We're 
 confident of both. One without the other would not be enough, 
 although if we had to choose between the two we would all take 
 the former. I can hardly look a pineapple in the face any more. 
 We've been eating them whole two or three at a time." Let's have 
 more of them, Jared — letters, I mean, not pineapples. 
 
 And so it went on month after month. Bulletins going out — 
 responsively appreciative letters coming back. I have here in my 
 home, as I write, a box full of them, which has been preserved as 
 one of my most cherished possessions, as is a complete file of these 
 bulletins. I read the following conclusion to the bulletin that was 
 dated December 1, 1942: 
 
 104
 
 I 
 
 "It will be a strange Christmas for us all, will it not — for you, 
 wherever you are, and for us back here in the old home town? How 
 desperately we shall miss you, one and all. But I promise you that 
 the lights will be burning on our altar, as they shall burn in our 
 hearts and homes, in token of the fact that even the clouds of war 
 cannot dim the hope that came into the world when the stars shone 
 over the Bethlehem manger. You have gone out to justify that 
 Hope, and all it implies of faith in God and in the worth of the 
 common man. God keep you, each and every one of you — and at 
 this Christmastide may He bestow upon you His richest and fullest 
 blessings." 
 
 Perhaps I have said enough to make clear what the project was 
 all about; its motive, its central purpose, my hopes of its possible 
 consequences. It was merely an eflPort to exercise a helpful and 
 effective pastoral ministry to members of my congregation, scattered 
 over the face of the earth, who were beyond the reach of my voice 
 and outside of my physical presence, but never beyond the reach 
 of my thoughts or of my constant prayer. What I was doing became 
 known to those back home. There was brought to my attention a 
 desire on the part of the fathers, mothers and wives of those men 
 to receive the bulletins as they were issued. It was a desire that 
 was warmly received and to which I earnestly wanted to respond. 
 But it posed a problem. The preparing and mailing of those 
 monthly letters to the constantly increasing number of men in the 
 field already exhausted the resources of our office staff. How could 
 I hope to extend the mailing to another 500 or 600 addresses? In- 
 evitably, and as I might well have expected, the solution to the 
 problem was found. A group of women, mostly mothers of the men 
 in service, volunteered to do the job after the mimeographing had 
 been attended to. Prom then on, under the leadership of Mrs. 
 Dorothy Chancellor, they met on the 1st of every month in the 
 Parish House library. There they spent the morning folding, enve- 
 loping, sealing, stamping and getting the bulletins ready for the 
 post office. This volunteer work, for which I have never ceased to 
 be grateful, continued until the end of the War. 
 
 A few more items selected from the bulletins : 
 
 January, 1943. At our Christmas services, I announced that 
 from then until the arrival of warm weather, in the interests of 
 fuel conservation, the Church-on-the-Hill is to be closed and all our 
 services are to be held in the chapel. There have been some, not 
 many, who have spoken regretfully, almost resentfully, that this 
 
 105
 
 should be. But why? Why shouldn't we as a congregation, as well 
 as individuals, share gladly, even gratefully, in whatever sacrifice 
 may be involved in the job that we have on hand? Of course the 
 chapel may be uncomfortably crowded. It may even be that we 
 shall have to hold our morning services in the auditorium of the 
 Parish House. If by doing so we may be permitted to accept our 
 little part — inconspicuously little by comparison with what ever^^- 
 one of you fellows are doing out there on the firing-line — we may 
 well count it a privilege to do so. You can count on us. We shall 
 be thinking not of how much we can get of gasoline and fuel oil 
 and sugar and meat and of other things that must be conserved in 
 order that this War may be won in the shortest possible time, but 
 rather of how little we can possibly get along with. I give you my 
 word that, as far as the people of Christ Church are concerned, 
 that shall be the case. 
 
 April, 1943. All of you men have had my prompt and grateful 
 replies to your letters. Here is further acknowledgment. When 
 Bob Davis speaks of how much contact with the home base means 
 when we are separated, as we are, by so many miles, he speaks of 
 what is in all our hearts. Whatever may be the distance that sep- 
 arates us, we are bound together by memories, associations, loyalties. 
 It is for that that we make our effort — and whatever sacrifice that 
 effort may mean. It is that for which we pray. God bless you, one 
 and all. You are doing your part. We back home will continue to 
 do ours. We shall not let you down. 
 
 June, 1943. We have a gold star on our Service List. Word 
 was received during the month of the death, somewhere in the South 
 Pacific area, of Capt. George Kellogg Hooker. Only a day or two 
 before this news was received, I had a happy, enthusiastic letter 
 from Kelly. He loved his work in the Marine Corps. He was loyal 
 and devoted to the men under his command. The Church-on-the- 
 Hill was filled for the service which we held in his memory (how 
 appropriately) on Memorial Day. A fine officer; a loyal son of his 
 Church; a Christian gentleman. 
 
 September, 1943. We have another gold star on our Ser\'ice 
 Board. P\i;. Samuel Adams Lynde III was killed in the line of duty 
 on maneuvers at Fort Jackson, Columbia, S. C. on August 5th. It 
 seems only yesterday that I waved good-bye to Sam as he went 
 eagerly and happily on his Army way from the North Shore station. 
 No one ever gave himself to his Nation's service with greater enthu- 
 siasm, with a finer spirit. On Tuesday, the 10th, we gathered in 
 the Church-on-the-Hill to pay our final, grateful tribute to a gallant 
 soul. Afterwards, the committal service was conducted in the 
 Churchyard and, with bowed heads, we stood at attention as taps 
 was sounded. 
 
 106
 
 October, 1943. Word has come through from Ted Gerhard. Two 
 undated postals, written from Military Prison 2 in the Philippines, 
 bring the reassuring news that he is in excellent health, has been 
 under no medical care, and is in fine spirits. 
 
 May, 1944. Dorothy Gerhard has been appointed Head Nurse 
 in Evacuation Hospital No. 44 somewhere in England. 
 
 May, 1944. Here is a letter just received from Ted Ballard, 
 from somewhere in the Southwest Pacific. He suggests air mail for 
 these bulletins that go overseas so that they may be received "in 
 a matter of weeks instead of months". (A bit costly, Ted, but a 
 good suggestion nevertheless and it shall be adopted.) 
 
 July, 1944. A bit of parish news for you men. The Vestry 
 has decided on a drive, to be undertaken in the fall, to liquidate 
 the balance of our mortgage debt. As of next December it will stand 
 at $20,000.00, and it would normally be cleared in the next three 
 or four years. But why wait, using annually $7,000 of current 
 revenue to do the job? Why not now put our house in order against 
 the day of your return? Contributions will be received either in cash 
 or in war bonds. It will mean something to you, when you come 
 homo, to return to a Christ Church completely debt-free and ready 
 to take on the job that we all know will be waiting for us at that 
 time. (Note. Under the leadership of Arthur Chilgren, Chairman 
 of our Finance Committee, this campaign was put across in De- 
 cember and resulted in a 50% over-subscription. Our new buildings 
 v/ere consecrated by Bishop Conkling on January 14, 1945.) 
 
 August, 1944. Our fourth gold star has gone up on the board 
 and, as in the case of the other three, it hurts. Word has just come 
 to us that Sprague Eddy gave his life in the invasion of Saipan. 
 Sprague was in the Marine Corps — a member, I believe, of Jim 
 Donovan's outfit. I know that everyone of you men will join with 
 me in deepest sympathy for his mother and father back here at 
 home. Jim came through the invasion unharmed, for which we 
 thank God. 
 
 February, 1945. Two mailing cards have just been received 
 from Ted Gerhard. One, undated, came from Philippine Military 
 Prison Camp No. 2 (Davao) and, from his reference to his 30th 
 birthday, was apparently written in November, 1943. The other is 
 dated July 10, 1944 and comes from Phil. Mil. Prison Camp No. 1 
 (Luzon). We have no information as to whether our men have 
 been evacuated from the Philippines since the American invasion 
 last summer. On both cards, Ted indicated that his health was good 
 and his spirits high. He had received messages from home. 
 
 March, 1945. Again I must report to you the addition of a 
 Gold Star on our Service List. It has been placed opposite the name 
 of Donald Macomber. He gave everything he had to his Country — 
 
 107
 
 bravely and gladly, you may be sure — as be served in the 3rd 
 Army. Now, on February 2nd in Germany and with the same fine 
 spirit, he has offered the supreme sacrifice. "We shall have a 
 memorial service for him in the Church-on-the-Hill on March 4th. 
 
 May, 1945. The twelfth and thirteenth Gold Stars have been 
 placed on our Service List. Dick Thatcher was killed on April 4th 
 at Will Rogers Field when, having landed after a training flight, 
 he was struck by another plane of his squadron which had gotten 
 out of control. Dick grew up here in Winnetka and was a lo.val and 
 devoted member of Christ Church. The Church-on-the-Hill was 
 crowded for his funeral service, which was held on April 9th. 
 
 On the 25th we received word of the death of Bill Scribner, the 
 result of wounds received in combat on the European front on the 
 13th. I remember so well my last talk with Bill just before he left 
 for over-seas duty, proud of his Lieutenant's bars and eager to take 
 on the combat duty for which he had been trained. A lot of you 
 men claimed him as a friend and you will be saddened, as we are, 
 by this information. 
 
 September, 1945. The fourteenth Gold Star has been added 
 to our Service List. It stands opposite the name of Edward Ashley 
 Gerhard Jr. Ted, a prisoner-of-war since the fall of Corregidor, 
 lost his life when a Japanese ship, on which he was being trans- 
 ported from the Philippines, was sunk in the China Sea on Decem- 
 ber 15, 1944. With us when the news came were his sister, Capt. 
 Dorothy who had recently returned from the European continent, 
 Sgt. Peter and his sister, Patty. The five of us met on August 5th 
 in the little chapel in Fish Creek, where for several years I have 
 officiated at the Sunday services during our summer vacation, and 
 there we held our memorial service for Ted. 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 But there was much else to be done on the home front. Im- 
 mediately after the attack on Pearl Harbor and the entry of our 
 country into the War, with the consent of the Vestry, I offered the 
 accommodations in our Parish House to the American Red Cross 
 for whatever use to which they wished to put them. Our offer was 
 readily accepted and, from then until the War was over, Christ 
 Church Parish House was the Winnetka headquarters for all Red 
 Cross activities. Day after day, the rooms were filled with women 
 of the community, brought together under the dedicated leadership 
 of Mrs. George D. Kane and Mrs. Arthur F. Weston for the all- 
 important task of rolling bandages and making surgical dressings. 
 At one point the demand for these supplies became so insistent and 
 compelling that the services of men of the community were called 
 
 108
 
 for to supplement the labors of the women. Consequently I issued 
 the call to the men of our congregation at one of our Sunday 
 morning services, and the following week I brought the summons 
 to the members of our Rotary Club. The result was Wednesday 
 evenings in the Parish House, when the rooms were filled with men 
 and women, all seriously determined to render this important 
 service to the Nation's war effort. I have in my hands a letter, 
 dated April 11, 1946 and written from the Red Cross Chicago 
 headquarters, stating that during the years 1942 to 1945, the 
 Winnetka Center Production Unit had put in a total of three 
 thousand, three hundred and seventeen hours of production service, 
 that the members of the unit had earned the Production Roll of 
 Honor card, and that the name of the Winnetka unit had been 
 entered on the Chicago Chapter Roll of Honor. I have no idea 
 that the women of our community had anticipated or expected 
 such recognition. At the same time I am sure that they were in- 
 wardly gratified that their labors were in this way acknowledged. 
 
 There was one other activity, in which we were involved during 
 those war years, to which brief mention should be made. Very early 
 in the morning of one day each week, draftees were going out from 
 the township for training and war service. They met in Community 
 House to receive their necessary instructions and then to leave on 
 the T o'clock train from the North Shore Electric station. To 
 lighten the atmosphere of what might otherwise have been a gloomy 
 and emotion-ridden hour, coffee and doughnuts were served by 
 women of the Red Cross, under the leadership of Mrs. Morris K. 
 Wilson ; brief addresses were made by the Mayor of the Village 
 and by the Commander of the Winnetka Post of the American 
 Legion ; and each week I was there, representing the churches of the 
 community, to wish the men God-speed and to assure them of our 
 continuing hopes and prayers for their safe return to their families 
 and fire-sides. 
 
 So the long war years came and went. They were years that 
 were filled with never-decreasing anxiety, but at the same time with 
 strong and unyielding determination to carry on to a victorious 
 conclusion. We of Christ Church were proud and glad to bear our 
 share of the war effort on the home front. 
 
 109
 
 CHAPTER NINETEEN 
 
 The Closing Days 
 
 At long last V-J Day arrived on September 2, 1945. On 
 that day the formal surrender of Japan was accepted in Tokyo 
 Harbor. World War II was at an end. But it was not to be the 
 end of our monthly bulletins. The people of Christ Church were too 
 accustomed to receiving them month-by-month to let them go. There 
 was a generally-expressed demand that they be continued. Con- 
 tinued they were for another two years. 
 
 In the February, 1946 issue I note the following item : " At the 
 11 o'clock service on February 3, the sermon will be preached by 
 Chaplain James K. MaeColl III. Chaplain MacColl has for the past 
 several months been attached to the Naval Air Station at Vero 
 Beach, Florida and is now bound for sea-duty in the Pacific. ' ' 
 
 Throughout the closing months of the War, I entertained the 
 hope that, peace having been declared, we might secure the services 
 of a discharged Chaplain to come to us as our Assistant Rector. 
 We desperately needed such assistance. Especially needed were 
 the services of a younger man, whose ministry might be offered 
 particularly to the great number of young people of our parish. 
 More and more I was aware of my limitations as far as that section 
 of my parish ministry was concerned. As I listened to Chaplain 
 MacColl that Sunday morning, my mind was made up. Here was 
 the man for whom we were looking and whom we must have. 
 
 The March bulletin contained this welcome information: "We 
 are to have an Assistant Rector. The Vestry extended the call at 
 our meeting on February 12th to Chaplain James R. MacColl III, 
 U.S.N.R. The call has been approved by the Bishop of Chicago ; it 
 has been accepted by Chaplain MacColl. He cannot come to us until 
 he is released from his duties in the Navy, which means probably 
 next May or June." 
 
 110
 
 He arrived in June. Immediately, he engaged in an aggres- 
 sive and determined effort to make himself known to our teen-agers 
 and to set up a program that would attract their interest. He organ- 
 ized what was called a Young Peoples' Church. It was to be a 
 completely organized congregation, with its own Vestry, Altar 
 Ouild, Choir, Servers, etc. and it was to meet for worship, under 
 Jim's direction, in the Chapel Sunday mornings at 11 o'clock. 
 
 The project met with instant success. The first service of this 
 Junior Congregation was held on October 20, with an attendance 
 of 110. The program went forward with mounting success. It be- 
 came widely-known throughout the Diocese and was written up in 
 the November issue of the Diocesan magazine, on the cover of which 
 appeared a picture of our Junior Congregation emerging from the 
 front door of the Chapel after their Sunday morning service. 
 
 Not only in this but in many other directions, Jim's ministry 
 in the Parish was extended. He became a vital factor in our ever- 
 growing activities. In 1948, by action of the Vestry, he became 
 Associate Rector of Christ Church. But unhappily it was not to 
 last. In the spring of 1949, he received a call to the rectorate of 
 Trinity Church, Newport, R. I., which he felt impelled to accept. 
 He left us with the lasting affection and to the deep regret of one 
 and all. 
 
 So again I was left alone to carry on my Winnetka ministry. 
 Again and again, in every possible direction, we sought the assist- 
 ance we so much needed. More and more I became aware of my 
 inadequacies. I felt completely competent to carry on my ministry 
 to the adult portion of our congregation. But those 200 or 300 
 young people were ever on my mind. I could not feel that they 
 were receiving the ministry to which they were entitled and which 
 they so greatly needed. 
 
 At last I arrived at my decision. Under date of April 9, 1953, 
 I addressed the following letter to Mr. Thomas C. Jones, Senior 
 Warden of Christ Church : 
 
 My dear Tom : 
 
 After careful and prayerful consideration, I have reached 
 the conclusion that I should at this time offer to the Vestry of 
 Christ Church my resignation as Rector of the Parish. I shall 
 
 111
 
 The author in 1952
 
 appreciate it if you will present it at the meeting next Monday 
 evening. 
 
 I am led to this action by what I believe to be the best 
 interests of the Parish. It is not an easy thing to do. It is 
 hard in this way to terminate a relationship which has been 
 mine for almost thirty -seven years, and which has brought me 
 great satisfaction and joy. I came to Christ Church in response 
 to what I believed to be Cod's will. I have kept that thought 
 in ni}' mind constantly as I have exercised my ministry in this 
 place. It is in my mind today as I take this action. 
 
 I feel very strongly that the time has now arrived when 1 
 must make way for a younger man under whose leadership the 
 staff of the Parish may be completed and under whose wise 
 guidance this congregation may move forward to still greater 
 achievement. Once my resignation has been accepted, the 
 Vestry will be in a position immediately to seek and find that 
 man and to place the Parish in his hands. 
 
 The time of my retirement I leave to the Vestry to decide. I 
 am convinced that the sooner it takes place, the better it will 
 be for the Parish. I particularly hope that it will not be 
 later than December 31 of the current year. 
 
 Faithfully yours, 
 E. Ashley Gerhard 
 
 On April 13, my letter was acted upon and my resignation was 
 accepted. In the bulletin of the morning service on April 19, ap- 
 peared the following: 
 
 My dear Friends : 
 
 You have received word this week of my resignation as 
 Rector of Christ Church. This action was taken only after long 
 and prayerful thought. I cannot express my gratitude to the 
 Vestry for their sympathetic understanding of the difficulty 
 involved in my decision and for the generous way in which 
 they handled it. It is desperately hard to contemplate the 
 termination of a relationship which began almost thirty-seven 
 years ago and which has meant everything in the world to 
 Dorothy and me. We simply feel that we must not allow our 
 personal desires and interests to stand in the way of the real 
 welfare of this wonderful parish. The need of younger leader- 
 ship has become so apparent to me that there is no doubt in 
 my mind as to where my duty lies. There is a ministry to the 
 youth of this congregation for which I, at my age, simply am 
 not qualified. Now, my resignation having been accepted, the 
 Vestrv is free to undertake its search for that younger leader- 
 
 112
 
 ship. You may be sure that this search will be prosecuted with 
 energy, wisdom and devotion. This parish needs and deserves 
 the best. Those who are now charged with the responsibility of 
 finding my successor may well be trusted to bring here a man 
 who will measure up to the vast opportunities that lie before 
 this congregation. May God bless you all. 
 
 Faithfully yours, 
 E. Ashley Gerhard 
 
 So ended thirty-seven years that for me were filled with un- 
 interrupted joy and satisfaction. They constituted a hallowed priv- 
 ilege for which I hold an unceasing gratitude to God, at Whose 
 hands it was granted. On September 15, 1963, I conducted my last 
 service and preached my last sermon as Rector of Christ Church. 
 On Monday morning my son, Peter, and I climbed into my car 
 and started our journey to Jamestown, Rhode Island, where I was 
 to finish my summer vacation among friends whom I loved. 
 
 113
 
 WARDENS AND VESTRYMEN OF CHRIST CHURCH 
 
 1916 — 1953 
 
 1916 — Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen : 
 
 1917 — Wardens: 
 Vestrymen: 
 
 1918 — Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen : 
 
 1919— Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen : 
 
 George Higginson, Jr. James G. Weart 
 
 Samuel A. Greeley, Clerk 
 John T. Boddle 
 R. Floyd Clinch 
 Raymond E. Durham 
 
 James G. Weart 
 
 John T. Boddie 
 Francis P. Butler 
 R. Floyd Clinch 
 Charles D. Dallas 
 
 James G. Weart 
 
 Godfrey H. Atkin 
 John T. Boddie 
 R. Floyd Clinch 
 Charles D. Dallas 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine 
 
 Godfrey H. Atkin 
 John T. Boddie 
 R. Floyd Clinch 
 Charles D. Dallas 
 
 1920 — Records not available 
 
 1921 — Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen: 
 
 1922— Wardens: 
 Vestrymen: 
 
 1923— Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen : 
 
 i 
 
 1924— Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen: 
 
 Edward P. Bailey 
 
 S. A. Greeley 
 E. S. Ballard 
 Harry Street 
 C. H. Coffin 
 C. L. Day 
 
 Edward P. Bailey 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 Charles Howells Coffin 
 Arthur M. Cox 
 Charles D. Dallas 
 C. Colton Daughaday 
 
 Edward P. Bailey 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 Charles H. Coffin 
 Arthur M. Cox 
 Charles D. Dallas 
 C. Colton Daughaday 
 
 Edward P. Bailey 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 Arthur M. Cox 
 Charles D. Dallas 
 C. Colton Daughaday 
 Victor Elting 
 
 Victor Elting 
 John H. Hardin 
 William B. Mcllvaine 
 Joseph C. Wlnship 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine 
 
 Raymond E. Durham 
 Victor Elting 
 Samuel A. Greeley 
 Harry L. Street 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine 
 
 Raymond E. Durham 
 Victor Elting 
 Samuel A. Greeley 
 Harry L. Street 
 
 James G. Weart 
 
 Victor Elting 
 Samuel A. Greeley 
 Harry L. Street 
 John Warmington 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine 
 
 J. B. Guthrie 
 
 B. K. Smith 
 
 C. D. Dallas 
 G. H. Atkin 
 Victor Elting 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine 
 
 Victor Elting 
 John B. Guthrie 
 Benjamin K. Smith 
 Harry L. Street 
 Walter A. Strong 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine 
 
 Victor Elting 
 John B. Guthrie 
 Charles C. McKinney 
 Benjamin K. Smith 
 William G. Woolfolk 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine 
 
 John B. Guthrie 
 Robert S. Laird 
 Charles C. McKinney 
 Donald F. McPherson 
 Benjamin K. Smith 
 
 I 
 
 114
 
 1925 — Wardens: 
 Vestrymen : 
 
 1926— Wardens: 
 Vestrymen : 
 
 1927— Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen : 
 
 1928— Wardens: 
 Vestrymen : 
 
 1929— Wardens: 
 Vestrymen : 
 
 1930 — Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen: 
 
 1931— Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen: 
 
 Edward P. Bailey 
 
 Godfrey H.Atkin 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 Francis P. Butler 
 Arthur M. Cox 
 C. Colton Daughaday 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine 
 
 Victor Elting 
 Robert S. Laird 
 Donald F. McPherson 
 Benjamin K. Smith 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine R. Floyd Clinch 
 
 Godfrey H. Atkin 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 Francis P. Butler 
 C. Colton Daughaday 
 Frederick A. dePeyster 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 Francis P. Butler 
 C. Colton Daughaday 
 Frederick A. dePeyster 
 John B. Guthrie 
 
 Robert S. Laird 
 John B. Guthrie 
 Victor Elting 
 Benjamin K. Smith 
 Erskine Wilder 
 
 R. Floyd Clinch 
 
 Robert S. Laird 
 Joseph F. Page 
 Clarence B. Randall 
 Benjamin K. Smith 
 Erskine Wilder 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine R. Floyd Clinch 
 
 Francis P. Butler 
 Charles D. Dallas 
 C. Colton Daughaday 
 Frederick A. dePeyster 
 Thomas W. Hearne 
 
 Robert S. Laird 
 Clarence B. Randall 
 Benjamin K. Smith 
 John N. Vander Vries 
 Erskine Wilder 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine R. Floyd Clinch 
 
 Francis P. Butler 
 Chas. Donald Dallas 
 Frederick A. dePeyster 
 Victor Elting 
 Thomas W. Hearne 
 
 Robert S. Laird 
 Albert E. Peirce 
 Clarence B. Randall 
 John N. Vander Vries 
 Erskine Wilder 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine R. Floyd Clinch 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 Chas. D. Dallas 
 Frederick A. dePeyster 
 Victor Elting 
 Thomas W. Hearne 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 Charles D. Dallas 
 Frederick A. dePeyster 
 John B. Guthrie 
 Thomas W. Hearne 
 
 Albert E. Peirce 
 Clarence B. Randall 
 John N. Vander Vries 
 Erskine Wilder 
 Rollin D. Wood 
 
 Victor Elting 
 
 Albert E. Peirce 
 Clarence B. Randall 
 John N. Vander Vries 
 Erskine Wilder 
 Rollin D. Wood 
 
 1932— Wardens: William B. Mcllvaine Victor Elting 
 
 Vestrymen: Ernest S. Ballard 
 Charles D. Dallas 
 Frederick A. dePeyster 
 John B. Guthrie 
 Thomas W. Hearne 
 
 Albert E. Peirce 
 Clarence B. Randall 
 John N. Vander Vries 
 Erskine Wilder 
 Rollin C. Wood 
 
 115
 
 1933— Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen: 
 
 William B. Mcllvalne Victor Elting 
 
 1934— Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen: 
 
 1935 — Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen : 
 
 1936— Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen : 
 
 1938— Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen : 
 
 1939— Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen : 
 
 William T. Bacon 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 Paul G. Chace 
 George E. Frazer 
 John B. Guthrie 
 
 Richard Yates Hoffman 
 William Jones Smith 
 Cornelius B. Watson 
 Rollin D. Wood 
 John N. Vander Vries 
 
 William B. Mcllvalne Victor Elting 
 
 William T. Bacon 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 Paul G. Chace 
 George E. Frazer 
 John B. Guthrie 
 
 Francis E. Hinckley 
 Richard Yates Hoffman 
 William Jones Smith 
 Cornelius B. Watson 
 Rollin D. Wood 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine Victor Biting 
 
 1937— Wardens : 
 
 Vestrymen : 
 
 1940— Wardens: 
 Vestrymen : 
 
 William T. Bacon 
 Paul G. Chace 
 William Ogden Coleman 
 John B. Guthrie 
 Francis E. Hinckley 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine 
 
 William T. Bacon 
 Alfred Brittain, Jr. 
 Paul G. Chace 
 William Ogden Coleman 
 Greorge C. Getgood 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine 
 
 Alfred Brittain, Jr. 
 Paul G. Chace 
 William Ogden Coleman 
 George C. Getgood 
 James L. Houghteling 
 
 William B. McHvaine 
 
 Alfred Brittain 
 William Ogden Coleman 
 Chas. E. Galloway 
 George C. Getgood 
 Harry R. Kimbark 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine 
 
 Arthur D. Chilgren 
 William O. Coleman 
 Charles E. Galloway 
 George C. Getgood 
 Harry R. Kimbark 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine 
 
 Arthur D. Chilgren 
 Charles E. Galloway 
 Gustavus T. Hellmuth 
 Donold B. Lourie 
 Arnold D. K. Mason 
 
 Richard Yates Hoffman 
 James Lawrence Houghteling 
 Stanley Rich 
 Lewis B. Rock 
 William Jones Smith 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 
 Francis E. Hinckley 
 James L. Houghteling 
 Harry R. Kimbark 
 Stanley Rich 
 William Jones Smith 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 
 Donold B. Lourie 
 Harry R. Kimbark 
 Stanley Rich 
 Rollin D. Wood 
 William Jones Smith 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 
 Donold B. Lourie 
 Stanley Rich 
 Ralph K. Rockwood 
 Walter F. Straub 
 Rollin D. Wood 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 
 Donold B. Lourie 
 Arnold D. K. Mason 
 Stanley Rich 
 Ralph K. Lockwood 
 Walter F. Straub 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 
 Stanley Rich 
 Ralph K. Rockwood 
 Walter F. Straub 
 Harold Wilder 
 William P. Wiseman 
 
 116
 
 1941— Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen: 
 
 1942 — Wardens: 
 Vestrymen : 
 
 1943— Wardens: 
 Vestrymen: 
 
 1944 — Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen: 
 
 1945 — Wardens: 
 Vestrymen : 
 
 1946— Wardens: 
 Vestrymen: 
 
 1947— Wardens: 
 Vestrymen : 
 
 1948— Wardens: 
 Vestrymen: 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine 
 
 Arthur D. Chilgren 
 Gustavus T. Hellmuth 
 Scott W. Hovey 
 Donold B. Lourie 
 Arnold D. K. Mason 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine 
 
 Arthur D. Chilgren 
 Gustavus T. Hellmuth 
 Scott W. Hovey 
 William A. Magie II 
 Arnold D. K. Mason 
 
 William B. Mcllvaine 
 
 Arthur D. Chilgren 
 John K. Coolidge 
 Grenville Davis 
 Holden K. Farrar 
 Paul C. Fulton 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 
 William T. Bacon 
 Thomas B. Chace 
 John K. Coolidge 
 Grenville Davis 
 Holden K. Farrar 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 
 William T. Bacon 
 Thomas B. Chace 
 John K. Coolidge 
 Grenville Davis 
 Holden K. Farrar 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 
 George C. Bunge 
 Thomas B. Chace 
 John K. Coolidge 
 Grenville Davis 
 Holden K. Farrar 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 
 George C. Bunge 
 Thomas B. Chace 
 John K. Coolidge 
 Grenville Davis 
 James A. Donovan 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 
 George C. Bunge 
 Thomas B. Chace 
 James A. Donovan 
 Frank F. Fowle, Jr. 
 A. Lucas Gardiner 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 
 Clarence B. Randall 
 Ralph K. Rockwood 
 Walter F. Straub 
 Harold Wilder 
 William P. Wiseman 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 
 Clarence B. Randall 
 Ralph K. Rockwood 
 Walter F. Straub 
 Harold Wilder 
 William P. Wiseman 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 
 Scott W. Hovey 
 William A. Magie II 
 Clarence B. Randall 
 Harold Wilder 
 William P. Wiseman 
 
 Clarence B. Randall 
 
 Paul C. Fulton 
 Scott W. Hovey 
 William A. Magie II 
 Harold Wilder 
 William P. Wiseman 
 
 Clarence B. Randall 
 
 Paul C. Fulton 
 E. Osborne Hand II 
 Tom E. Hough 
 Scott W. Hovey 
 William A. Magie II 
 
 Clarence B. Randall 
 
 Paul C. Fulton 
 Malcolm D. Haven 
 Tom E. Hough 
 William A. Magie II 
 Arnold D. K. Mason 
 
 Clarence B. Randall 
 
 Holden K. Farrar 
 Paul C. Fulton 
 Malcolm D. Haven 
 Tom E. Hough 
 Arnold D. K. Mason 
 
 Clarence B. Randall 
 
 Tom E. Hough 
 Richard N. Jones 
 Arnold D. K. Mason 
 R. Kingsley G'Hara 
 Avern B. Skolnik 
 
 117
 
 1949 — Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen : 
 
 1950 — Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen: 
 
 1951 — Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen: 
 
 1952— Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen : 
 
 1953— Wardens: 
 
 Vestrymen : 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 
 George C. Bunge 
 James A. Donovan 
 Frank F. Fowle, Jr. 
 A. Lucas Gardiner 
 Tom E. Hough 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 
 George C. Bunge 
 James A. Donovan 
 Burnham M. Fisk 
 Frank F. Fowle, Jr. 
 A. Lucas Gardiner 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 
 James A. Donovan 
 Burnham M. Fisk 
 Frank F. Fowle, Jr. 
 A. Lucas Gardiner 
 Joseph C. Houston, Jr. 
 
 Ernest S. Ballard 
 
 Robert H. Brew 
 Burnham M. Fisk 
 Frank F. Fowle, Jr. 
 A. Lucas Gardiner 
 Joseph C. Houston, Jr. 
 
 Thomas C. Jones 
 
 Robert H. Brew 
 Gordon G. Brittan 
 Burnham M. Fisk 
 William L. Heiser 
 L. Martin Krautter 
 
 Clarence B. Randall 
 
 Joseph C. Houston 
 Thomas C. Jones 
 Arnold D. K. Mason 
 R. Kingsley G'Hara 
 Avern B. Skolnik 
 
 Donold B. Lourie 
 
 Joseph C. Houston, Jr. 
 Thomas C. Jones 
 Arnold D. K. Mason 
 Avern B. Skolnik 
 Howard E. Sommer 
 
 Donold B. Lourie 
 
 Thomas C. Jones 
 Warren F. Sarle 
 Avern B. Skolnik 
 Francis E. Senear 
 Howard E. Sommer 
 
 Donold B. Lourie 
 
 Thomas C. Jones 
 John S. Loomis 
 Warren F. Sarle 
 Francis E. Senear 
 Howard E. Sommer 
 
 Howard E. Sommer 
 
 John S. Loomis 
 Arthur T. Moulding 
 Warren F. Sarle 
 Francis E. Senear 
 John Byron Spaulding 
 
 118
 
 Book design by Joseph Haas 
 
 Typesetting and offset printing by La Salle Street Press, Chicago, Illinois