The Federal Council

When the Republican Party meets in quadrennial convention, the layman is content to know that, somehow, it has a prescriptive right to nominate a presidential candidate. It has met for this purpose; and the right requires no definition. When the College of Cardinals assembles behind closed doors, the layman knows well what its business is. Last week, the Federal Council of Churches of Christ in America met in Atlanta. One of the reasons for its meeting was to define and redefine its purpose. Follows an attempted definition in the light of history: General History. Since the 1st Century, there has always been more than one society or "church" calling itself Christian. But about the year 1000 most of civilized Europe recognized one as supremely valid--the Holy Roman Catholic Church. With the year 1500 began such a tremendous movement of diversity that by 1900 there were at least 100 Christian "churches." In the U. S., the largest group is commonly known as Evangelical and includes the Baptist, Congregational, Methodist, Presbyterian and other "churches" or variations of the same to the number of 30.* During the last Century, most of these churches yielded their claims to being the sole depositories of Christian truth and informally recognized each other's essential Christianity. The pendulum began to swing back from diversity to unity.

Particular History. After several years of talk, conferences, pamphlets, prayers, most of the Evangelical Churches ratified the idea of a Federal Council and voted to become constituent members. In 1908, the Council began, consisting of about 400 members from the 30 churches. It organized itself into committees and committees within committees. In 1912, it met at Chicago and decided to go on. In 1916, it met at St. Louis and decided it was a success. It pointed out that it had not infringed on the autonomous liberty of action of any of the member churches; it rejoiced that it had been effective in giving weight and publicity to the views which all its member churches shared on moral welfare and the importance of religion. In 1917, a memorable special session united the churches on the War. In 1920, it met at Cleveland, received Protestant representatives from many countries, pointed to its expanded activities in war and peace, took over the moral authority of the expiring Inter-Church Movement, found itself indisputably an institution of great pitch and moment.

Today, the Federal Council spends about $300,000 annually--a paltry sum. Its paltriness is significant. And even two-thirds of this is spent, not on its self, but on special work, such as its Commissions on Race Relations, on International Goodwill, on Temperance. And even this comes more by large private donations than from the constituent member churches. Thus the Council is in no sense a superchurch. It has no power over any church. It has no long pay roll. It has no material interests. It does not cost much because: (Definition) the council is simply a voice. It speaks for two purposes. First, it tells one church how to cooperate with all the other churches. Second, it tells the world what U. S. Protestantism feels about this or that. The voice vibrates through a few secretaries and mimeographs. It is echoed by as many printing presses as can be interested in what it has to say.

Personnel. Every four years, the Council elects a President. Dean Shailer Mathews (1912-16), original theologian and famed University of Chicago educator, was representative of the worth which religious thinkers have attached to the Council. Frank Mason North (1916-20), Secretary of a Mission Board, was representative of the unity urge which has come from American missionaries abroad. Robert E. Speer (1920-24), also Secretary of a Mission Board, is regarded as one of the greatest churchmen and pulpit orators of this quarter century. He is perhaps most representative of the church-going public. But most of the Council's work has been done by its General Secretary, Charles S. MacFarland. Stoop-shouldered, square-jowled, limping a little, a deeply earnest Christian, he travels indefatigably from state to state, from nation to nation. In 1923, he made 225 speeches at 250 conventions. Last year, he organized the Hugue-not-Walloon celebration, selling $25,000 worth of tercentenary coins, for which he was bitterly assailed as an "unscrupulous propagandist." He it is who must keep the 30 churches harmoniously in line. Says he to one of the churches: "You must trust the other 29," and it does. He makes the Council's voice to speak, its mimeograph wheels to go round.

* For example, there is a "Presbyterian Church in the U. S. A." and a "Presbyterian Church in the U. S." The first is in the North; the second in the South. The first contains modernists; the second does not, perceptibly.