We are well past the halfway mark in what is to be two months in Europe and have already had almost a month on a conducted tour of the continent—the Netherlands, Belgium, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Italy (10 days), and France, with brief stops in “nations” called Liechtenstein, Vatican City, and Monaco. Now we are centered in Cambridge from which point we are using a rental car for forays around the British Isles. One is tempted to reach very sage conclusions concerning life in these places, conclusions based on very superficial observations; a longer stay would make us more hesitant and could eventually give us greater wisdom and more understanding, maybe even some compassion. I am reminded of a cartoon which appeared one time in The Pittsburgh Press. In a crowd of Hopkinson-type club women the chairman was introducing the speaker: “Mrs. Bronson who has just finished a three-day auto trip to Washington will now review the political situation in the country.” If you will allow for our superficial observations to be superficial, we should like to make one or two.
On the right good ship “R.M.S. Queen Mary” there were announcements for Romish masses for three days before the announcement appeared for “Divine services” for all the others. A Roman priest conducted the masses with a proper altar and, I am sure, with some blessed and holy item there to make it all significantly Roman. Our “Divine” service was held in the lounge of First Class, and the ship’s captain read the service assisted by another officer who read the Scripture. Out of about 2,500 passengers and about an equal number of crew, there were a few more than 200 in attendance seated somewhat informally in the loungiest of first-class lounge chairs. The little organ was well played, but the singing was quite desultory and one may judge from the confusions in the service that we were not all Anglicans. The Scripture for the day was from its proper place in the year’s readings but cried out for some word on historical setting to say nothing of a little exegesis; the ratio of Scripture to Prayer Book was about one to ten, there was no sermon, all was wrapped up in 35 minutes, we all stood up while the captain and his retinue marched out. Then we all went our separate ways with nothing faintly resembling fellow-ship. As one firm-type nonconformist commented on the way out: “No wonder they don’t go to church in England.”
What disturbed me most on the ship was that in about five days, in the midst of drinking, horse-racing, a pool on the ship’s mileage, lots of twist, lots of eating and sleeping, the latest movies like “A Touch of Mink” in which Doris Day spends a couple of hours drunk and sober trying to decide on the pros and cons of adultery, the only public and external evidence of Protestant Christianity was that church service in the lounge. If the strength of Protestantism lies in Britain and America, what shall we say of its weakness? On the whole of our trip I have been increasingly uneasy about the apparent irrelevancy of Protestantism—not opposition, just complete unawareness in terms of commitment, language, ethics or culture, or even forms of amusement; meanwhile formal services are held in which one could hardly guess from what is said or done, what Christianity is or what Christianity requires.
On succeeding Sundays on a tour made up of Canadians and Americans, mostly Protestants, the Romanists went to early mass each Sunday, and we had to make special arrangements to leave the tour, sometimes awkward arrangements. We had difficulty even finding a Protestant church. In Venice we attended church with only about 80 people, and yet I am sure the city was stuffed with tourists who would count themselves Protestant. Again the indifferent approach to the whole service appalled us—as Margaret Halsey once said, “They announce the news as if it hasn’t happened.” In Rome we attended church by “watching” a Roman mass. In Paris we were warmed and fed at the American church where the service and sermon lifted our hearts and where De Pauw University’s choir on tour gave us the gift of their music. If one may judge by the bulletin of the American church, the chief social outreach of the church is to alcoholics. By the general look of things France needs the wine industry for her basic economy; at the same time, however, the entrenched habit of drink appears injurious to her culture. Our Scotch and Soda Protestant friends drank well and often on the trip, but that is all another problem. Or should we discuss Sabbath observance by Protestants at home and abroad?
Preparations are going forward in St. Peter’s for Pope John’s coming ecumenical council, and Time magazine tells us that Protestant groups are scrambling to get representatives there. The bleacher seats in St. Peter’s nave look very hard, and they will be very crowded and awkward, and the WC’s of Italy, you know, are notably inadequate. Don’t go to that meeting unless you have to; there is something about St. Peter’s (except for the Sistine Chapel) which can be very disenchanting. The most noticeable characteristic of Romanism in Europe is the central place of the Mary images. In every church we visited the worshipers and the lighted candles were around the Mary worship centers, and there the prayers were being made; the adoration is for the mother not the Son. Axel Munthe in his San Michele tells of his experience of conversing with Catholic priests, “Seldom, very seldom, I heard the name of God mentioned, the name of his Son never. I once ventured to express my surprise to a … Frate who was a particular friend of mine over this omission of Christ in their discussions. The old Frate made no secret of his private opinion that Christ owed his reputation solely to His having the Madonna for His Mother.” What have we to do with Rome in that kind of non-sense. But “conversations” will now begin “looking toward union.”
