At the point at which I enter this discussion, 2† I am able to take for granted that a Christian Britain is desirable. But to agree that something is desirable is not the same thing as desiring it; and if we are seriously to entertain the idea of a Christian Britain, we might as well consider in advance what an extraordinary aim this is, and how different from any of the kinds of reform or revolution that men commonly undertake. In the first place, it is unlikely that any of us, if we were presently translated to this Christian Britain, would find ourselves perfectly at home in it. It is something which demands an inner change of the individual as well as an outer change of society. I can, of course, imagine quite a different and much pleasanter society from that in which I live, so long as I assume that I shall be the same Tom, Dick, or Harry in it. I know that I should have to be different too; but to see this changed myself at all clearly is beyond the scope of imagination. We must recognise that a Christian Britain demands sacrifice from all – sacrifice of mean, petty, and selfish desires; and that what we stand to gain by it is not merely something that we now desire, but a change and perfection of our present desire and will.
Beside this thought, there is a question I should like to put to you for consideration after you have heard me out. The question to which I am to speak is: what can we do to help to bring about a Christian Britain? The question I put to you is: what sort of an answer do you expect? If you do not consider what is possible, you will not know what to ask for, and you will be dissatisfied with whatever I say. If I propose certain definite things that we can do, they will probably seem to you quite inadequate to the magnitude of the task: if I try to avoid this kind of anti-climax, I may leave you with the feeling that I have uttered only amiable platitudes which have got us nowhere. I do not want merely to offer some scheme of worldly reform which would have no need of Christianity to make it appear desirable. And I do not want to talk that language of spiritual aspiration which is nothing but words. But if you see that I have to try to avoid both of these pitfalls, you will make things easier for me.
The simplest way to begin, I think, is this. We recognise three kinds of Christian duty: duty towards God, duty towards one’s neighbour, and duty 163towards oneself. The first can be represented by worship, the second by the effort for social justice, and the third by personal and private morality. But we have only to think for a moment to realise that each kind of duty implies, and in a sense comprehends, the others, and that none is wholly itself unless it is the others too. We are not doing our duty towards God if we are indifferent to social injustice, or if we neglect our own moral and spiritual development; we cannot truly cultivate our own moral and spiritual nature and remain indifferent to God and to our fellow men; and finally, we cannot build a Christian social order if we neglect worship or belittle the duty of self-improvement. This is obvious: but in point of fact we always tend to emphasise one duty to the neglect of others, and from this lopsidedness many of our troubles spring.
During the second part of the nineteenth century and the earlier part of this, a great deal was written urging social reform, and a good deal of action was taken. People tended to think that the problems of this world could all be solved in terms of this world except when they supinely assumed that God did not mean us to solve them at...
