Love as Unifying Might

The great fact, to which I have alluded at the beginning of this article, is the fact of the unifying influence of religion in the history of Jugoslavdom during the past century, and especially during the tragic happenings of the present war. Orthodox and Catholics found themselves united in the self-same practical work—in this case in one and the same idealistic struggle for nationality and in common suffering. In this common struggle and suffering they have realized that they are brothers, and were amazed to think that religion could even for one moment divide them. They were amazed to think that such abstract details of religion, like the dogma of the filioque could divide them, brothers, who shared so much common ground in their beliefs,—the belief in the Trinity, belief in the Saviour, in Immortality, in Righteousness, in one Apostolic Church, in the Sermon on the Mount, in the beauty of self-sacrifice for others, and in suffering for what is good and ideal.

It may be objected that this may be so in the day of trouble, but that all may be different to-morrow, with the return of peace. For even in the early days of Christianity there was no division in the Church because of the common suffering, but as soon as persecution ceased, the spirit of sectarianism crept into the world.

On this point I venture to say that history will not repeat itself: what has been, will never be again. No sacrifice of blood and human life has ever been made without causing a great stride in history, and a great change in human life. The present world-war, which is calling for unprecedented sacrifices in blood and life, must mean a correspondingly great stride, (forward, let us hope) for humanity, and fundamentally change the aspects of history.

The nations will be drawn more closely together, with or without the approval of the churches. But the Churches, too, should be drawn together, and ultimately be united. They will be united on those great matters, which they all have in common—evangelical, theological, and in the forms of Divine services. The Churches, too, must learn their lesson from this war. They must be careful always to unite in practical work, which needs the inspiration of the Christian spirit and Christian love. For if the Catholic, English and Presbyterian Churches in Great Britain, the Catholic and Protestant Churches in Germany, and the Orthodox Churches in Southern Slavdom have in war-time found one another in the self-same charitable work and the same patriotic enthusiasm, surely they can be united in peace-time in the sublime work of human civilization.

You will object that there are differences. And I reply: “Certainly there are differences; but the individual differences between myself and my neighbours are much greater than those between the Christian Churches, yet nevertheless my neighbour and I meet in the same road, in the same work, and at the same table, and we live together under the same laws; we both rebel against the same evil, and we both defend the same good.” You will repeat, that there are differences. And again I reply: “As these differences could be forgotten in war-time, they can also be forgotten in peace-time.”

At least this must be the case with us Jugoslavs. During the last centuries we have passed through a repetition of the sufferings of the early Christians. Common struggle and common suffering have taught us to live under the Christian spirit, which animates both Orthodox and Catholic faiths. The State for which Serbia is now fighting will include many Orthodox and Catholic members. The people of this State who have learnt, not from theories, but from life and suffering, will always know how to respect the faith of their neighbours in so far it differs from their own, and to love it in so far as it coincides with theirs. And as the similarities between the Orthodox and Catholic faiths are in a proportion of 90%, there will be 90% of reasons for mutual love inspired by faith, and only 10% scope for mutual tolerance as regards their “individual” differences. The future Jugoslav State will contain about fifty dioceses, half of them Catholic, and the other Orthodox. All the inhabitants of all these dioceses are at this moment praying that Serbia and her Allies may be victorious, even as the Bishop of London and Cardinal Bourne are praying. The people who were united in bondage, will certainly not be divided in freedom, otherwise freedom would not be better than bondage, but rather worse. The people, who learnt the lesson of love in bondage, will surely continue in love in freedom, otherwise freedom would merely mean a worse temptation for them. The people who learnt tolerance in bondage, will not forget to be tolerant in freedom. Therefore the Serbian government was merely the mouthpiece of the Serbian people when directly after the Balkan wars it proceeded to place Serbia’s relations with the Catholic Church on a proper footing, because with the extension of Serbia the number of her Catholic inhabitants would likewise increase. In the midst of the war, the Skuptchina in Nish discussed the project of the Concordate with the Holy See and accepted it. It is known in the Vatican and elsewhere with how much sincerity and broad-minded good-will the Serbians strove to meet the needs and wishes of Catholics living within the borders of Serbia. In the future every Serbian democratic government will be equally sincere and broad-minded in religious matters; and it behoves the Orthodox and Catholic clergy to be unanimous in upraising their people in cultural respects, even as during the dark centuries of slavery they were active in awakening the national consciousness and now are unanimous in suffering with their flocks and in the struggle for righteous ideals of freedom and unity.

All we Jugoslavs are sure that there will be harmony and unanimity between the two priesthoods, the two confessions, and the two Churches in the future Serbian State. It is very difficult for us to prove this beforehand. Whatever may now be said or written, people will reserve the right to believe nothing until they see it, just as they reserved their right to believe in Serbia’s physical strength until it could no longer be denied. But we have this conviction, because we know ourselves. Our national watchword after this war will be:

“Love first, and then logic.”

This watchword should be the watchword for all the Christian Churches, for it is true to the Gospel, to which all the world,—now plunged into a terrible war because of logic without love,—must eventually return. The fences set up between the Churches are incredibly petty. But it had to be that for a thousand years men lived isolated and secluded within these fences, and for a thousand years there was isolated labour and development, strife and discord, passionate reproach and logical recrimination, much blood and many tears, the sin of Cain, and the ever-repeated Crucifixion of Christ, and in the end the European War became necessary. All this had to be, so that Christian humanity might ripen and grow, and outgrow these petty fences, and that each man might behold his neighbour over the fence, that he might feel his heart, hear his lamentations and might extend a helping hand over the fence and clasp him in a brother’s embrace. All this was necessary through thousands of years, till Christian men became convinced that the distance between man and his brother is not to be measured by miles, as he had imagined, but by inches! All this had to be so that all Christian Churches, and all humanity might repeat with conviction:

“Love first, and then Logic!”