In a dark and mysterious world the Catholic is an enlightened man. It is true that mysteries remain, even for him. But he knows what life is about, why he passed through the gates of birth, why he acts and suffers on this brief stage we call the earth, why the curtain must at last fall, and what he may expect beyond.
It is also no exaggeration to say that he is surrounded by men lost in a fog, and in perilous country. Certainly the non-Catholic has his lights–hints from the natural reason, and heirlooms from the Catholic tradition. But these are no more than fitful gleams by comparison with the sun of truth which has risen in the mind of every convinced Catholic.
Our non-Catholic friends are in darkness and danger for want of that great range of practical information which God has so generously bestowed upon us, and it is certain that if a few words from us may save a man from disaster, then those words must be spoken.
But there are difficulties. A man lost in a fog is not necessarily aware of the fact. What appears to be the main road may be, in fact, the canal, but the wanderer may not believe it before attempting the crossing. The wrong path may seem to be safe and the right road ridiculous to the man with only a dim view of either.
Then again, a man may be lost and have no confidence in our ability to guide him. He has met several guides before, and they have pointed in different directions. If he is to put himself in our hands, we must show him some very good reason.
There is also the question of opportunity. To some extent this is answered by the very conditions in which we live. We are Catholics in a non-Catholic world, and every day we associate with people who are with us in business and social life, but not yet with us in the Mystical Body of Christ. Casual conversations do not always turn upon income tax and the weather. Ultimate questions of life and death will arise, and when that happens we must answer, and answer well.
These occasions can be rich with opportunity, and should never be wasted. But they are not enough. Catholic apologetic must find more direct and positive expression. We cannot be content with waiting to be properly introduced, or for the non-Catholic to turn to us with inquiring eyes. We must go out and teach, publicly and openly, and for this we shall need authority.
Filling a Need for Laymen
For the average Catholic layman there is a practical answer to all these problems. That answer is the Catholic Evidence Guild, for that society supplies, in generous measure, training, opportunity and authority.
Since 1918 the Guild has steadily taught the non-Catholic at the street corner, in the market-place and the park. Every kind of opposition has broken upon the society’s platforms. Representatives of every sect and shade of opinion have stated their cases at its outdoor meetings. Much has been done, but there are great fields of opportunity as yet untouched, and will remain so until our fellow Catholics join us. When that happens, the outward movement of the faith, which is at present a steady trickle, will burst upon England in full flood.
The Guild is a lay society, and its object is well expressed in an official prayer:
“Grant unto us thy laborers, called in to help thy priests in the work of the vineyard, by thy grace so to labor throughout our lives.”
It might be as well to add here a word as to the respective labors of priest and layman upon the Guild platform.
Every guildsman, of course, loves to see a priest upon the platform, for the power to teach is enshrined in Holy Orders. Further, the lay teacher sometimes discovers that he has made contact with a man in need of moral guidance of a deeply individual nature–in other words, he has found ground that a priest should tread. He feels it to be providential, therefore, if one should succeed him on the platform.
The Layman’s Advantage
On the other hand, the very “ordinariness” of the layman is a useful bridge across which the faith can pass to his fellows. The fact that he wears a tie, catches the 8:15 in the morning and takes his wife to the cinema, means that many doors are open to him which are at present closed to the clergy.
The priest and the layman supplement each other wonderfully on the platform, and the loss of either would be loss indeed. We must follow our clergy into the vineyard if the full fruits are to be gathered.
From the point of view of simple arithmetic, in addition to the question of sympathetic contact, there is, as there always has been, a vital need for the teaching layman. Wherever men foregather, in the street, the marketplace or the park, his voice must be heard, teaching those truths which alone give divine warmth and color to the lives of very ordinary men.
But what is this catching of the breath, this strange sinking of the heart, which afflicts so many suitable Catholics at the very thought of publicly teaching the faith? To many of them, the idea of mounting a Guild platform is for all the world like climbing the steps of the scaffold. In fact, I seriously believe that thousands of them would rather climb the scaffold to die for the faith than mount a Guild platform to talk about it.
As we have seen, Guild work is a matter concerning which the average Catholic needs to satisfy his conscience. So it is important here to examine some of the negative ways in which we do so, to enable us to consider whether they really ought to bar us from positive action.
The first is rather neatly expressed by Shakespeare: “For I have neither wit, nor words nor worth, action nor utterance, nor the power of speech, to stir men’s blood.”
Now this feeling is not a handicap, for it is based upon a misunderstanding of the nature of Guild work. Our object is not to stir men’s blood, although it is undoubtedly better for a little stirring sometimes. There are public speakers of whom it is said that they cast spells over audiences and hold them entranced. But the Guild is not looking for witch doctors or magicians, but simply for men and women who love their faith and who can talk about it.
All It Takes Is Sincerity and Truth
It cannot be over-stressed that Guild work is for the ordinary man and woman. People have no particular faith in smooth and easy tongues–they have heard too many of them. Inferior goods may need brilliant packing to sell them in the world’s markets. But it so happens that the goods we have to offer are precisely what men need because they are made by God. The words in which we wrap them need only be sound and suitable.
This does not mean that there is no scope in the Guild for the talents of the orator. He can work wonders if his sincerity is obvious, but not greater wonders than the man who is just a convinced Catholic and able to explain why. We do not need special aptitude for the Catholic platform–only that ordinary aptitude which emerges after training.
When it is realized that the guildsman’s object is not to sway crowds but to talk to people, it will be seen that the work could be done by thousands of Catholics to whom at present the idea is remote and even amusing.
Is the Faith too Holy for Outdoors?
The second objection relates to the work itself–a serious view that it should not be done at all! The faith, it is argued, is a holy and a beautiful thing. At street corner wrangles, it is dragged through the mire and sullied with the dust of debate. Nothing is sacred to a heckler, and the only result is the ravaging of Catholic feeling. It is surely better to deal with non-Catholics individually when they are in the right frame of mind.
This objection is also based upon a misunderstanding, but this time it concerns the nature of the faith. Catholicism is not a hot-house plant! It combines the glory and the delicacy of the rose with the hardiness of the desert cactus.
Otherwise it could never have reached these shores of ours, or returned again after exile. It is not a museum piece, but a living entity that goes out to all the world, and is thus able to survive and develop in any atmosphere. Sometimes it must be dragged through the mire, as were the English martyrs, if men are to see it, as they must.
Still, it is worth noting that the type of meeting which this objector has in mind is very much on the wane. Non-Catholics are turning to the Church with interested eyes, and when they themselves are treated with respect, they have no more sympathy than the man on the platform for the mere mud-slinger. Today, more than ever, the guildsman draws his own response from his crowd by his matter and manner. It is the harvest from his own seed.
Study Necessary, but no Burden
But this fosters another objection–the weariness of study, particularly to older men and women. Even Scripture tells us that “of making many books there is no end: and much study is an affliction of the flesh.” Should we ill-treat our flesh in this manner?
Now books are an essential, but not a dominant, feature of Guild training, which is something vital, real and belonging to the moment. It is at least as important that the Guild.aspirant should feel a platform under his feet and see an audience before him.
It is also as important that he should be able to air freely his own difficulties before experienced fellow Catholics. As we shall see, all this is arranged before he mounts the outdoor platform, and he will find that the training is a fresh wind conveying all the necessary seed and at the same time dispersing the cobwebs.
It is worth noting that a number of Catholics who, for various reasons, are unable to undertake the outdoor work, have found the Guild course of enormous value to their Catholic life. As we have seen, every Catholic has a potential audience for the faith wherever he meets his friends and associates in train, restaurant or office, and he has a clear duty toward them. In addition, his personal life in a non-Catholic world needs to be continually watered by the flow of revealed truth, as otherwise all the advantage is with the enemy.
To the man, therefore, who hesitates to enter the Guild on account of the study involved, I would say this: “Do you not need it anyway? If you live in the world, must you not be able to answer the world?”
All things considered, I would suggest that the reader should see what the Guild can do for him, and a little later, what he can do for the Guild. As a source of practical information for the normal Catholic life, the Junior Course is, I believe, unsurpassed. As a divine service, Guild activity is second to nothing short of Holy Orders.
How the Courses Work
The beginning of a guildsman’s career is attendance at the Junior Classes, which are taken by senior members of the society. A highly important qualification of the classtakers is that they are human beings who have made mistakes.
That is to say, their knowledge of the right road is often due to the fact that they themselves have wandered about on tracks which lead nowhere. Having learned the hard way, they can make matters immeasurably easier for those who follow.
A typical example is the question of bad popes, or, more accurately, popes who were bad men. There are two possible methods here. The first insists that these pontiffs were neither so numerous or so abandoned as is commonly believed, and adds a few facts and figures. The second points out that had their numbers been double and their iniquities a bottomless pit, the Catholic case could not suffer. It adds that such scandals as we have known would have wrecked any human society making the same claims.
The experienced guildsman might not altogether abandon the first line, if only because he may personally meet the departed popes in question at a later date. But from the point of view of the Catholic case the second line is altogether more satisfactory. The first answer modifies the difficulty–the second uproots it.
The classtaker can also be a friend indeed on a host of technical points. He knows, for example, that the supports of a platform are at the back, and that if a speaker, in a burst of zeal, throws his weight forward, he may find himself in the arms of his audience.
The aspirant learns how to keep his balance, mentally and physically, how to throw his voice, treat insult and check b.asphemy. There is, in fact, no reason why any kind of Guild disaster should ever be repeated, and the various roads into the mind of England become clearer and more defined at every training class of the society.
Everybody Speaks in Class
At one of his early attendances, perhaps the first, the beginner may be a little startled to hear the sound of his own voice. This is because of an old Guild custom of insisting upon two-minute speeches from members of the class. It is a necessary prelude for those people who have not so far raised their voices in public, and is a foretaste of the practice classes so essential to the practical training of a guildsman.
To enter fully into these, the beginner must select his subject and shape his lecture. The rich and varied nature of Catholicism makes it quite necessary that he should master one feature of it at a time, and thus build up his apologetic piece by piece. Because the first step is often more difficult than those which follow, a few suggestions here may possibly help to clear the way.
How will he select his subject?
Perhaps he is a convert? In that case, something drew him across the threshold of the Church–perhaps the strength of authority or the beauty of the Sacraments. But whatever the road was, he has trodden it, and is thus in a position to invite others along that way. That precise element which won his allegiance may very well captivate another. If, with this in mind, he carefully scans the Junior Course of subjects, he is almost certain to find the theme in which reposes the secret of his own conversion and the hope for that of others.
But suppose he is a “born” Catholic? Well, the circumstances are a little different, but here again, reference to one’s personal history may be of great assistance. Every Catholic, I imagine, has been troubled from time to time with scruples, fears and depressions which have overshadowed his spiritual life. But if he is still practicing, it is probable that he has shaken off these nightmares, and in so doing has become something of an authority on them. Why should not those victories of grace be extended? Those trailing ghosts of his past may be haunting others, perhaps obscuring the light of faith. Could he not exorcise them again on the platforms of the Guild?
Using Examples
An example may help. Catholics have sometimes been dismayed at the apparently harsh words of our Lord to his Mother at the marriage feast at Cana, which in their mildest form seem to convey a reproof and a refusal. This has resulted in a careful review of the incident as a whole, which gives birth to two interesting questions:
1. Our Lord’s words were forbidding. Why, then, was she so certain of the coming miracle that she warned the waiters to prepare for it?
2. Why did our Lord say: “My hour has not yet come,” and yet perform the miracle?
The answers to these questions spell death to the difficulty, but they also supply first-class material for a lecture on Our Lady.
Examples can be multiplied, and it is safe to say that any beginner, raking over his spiritual past, will find the most promising soil for his future work. And although, generally speaking, it is inadvisable for guildsmen to talk about themselves on the platform, the personal element can never be quite absent from the successful lecture.
But how will the beginner shape his lecture?
Little need be said here. The Guild outlines are rich with suggestions, and individual help can be demanded from senior guildsmen as a right. But there is one guiding star that must shine on all occasions, and which should be indicated now.
The beginner must spiritually stand in his own future crowd with his selected subject in mind. He must say to himself: What is there in this that could arrest me, hold me, convince me? What would arouse my interest and break my prejudice? What theme would keep me a member of the crowd and send me away with the right impression? No amount of study can replace this essential “othering” of ourselves. We must follow St. Paul, who said: “I became all things to all men that I might save all.”