Religion: Sealed Lips

Bishop Brown (TIME, Feb. 25, 1924, Jan. 26) once of the diocese of Arkansas, wrote to the Episcopal Bishop of New York:

It is true that I have been adjudged guilty of heresy and it is quite possible that you concur in the judgment and intend, at the coming meeting of the House of Bishops, to vote for my expulsion from the Christian ministry. But such considerations, it seems to me, are quite irrelevant. Religion, we are both agreed, is deeper than intellectual belief, and the known divergence in pur points of view, in case you were to invite me to speak in the cathedral, would emphasize the truth.

Bishop Manning replied:

Acting therefore under the law of this Church and by the authority vested in me as Bishop of this diocese, I hereby inhibit you from officiating or speaking in St. Mark’s Parish or any other parish or mission in this diocese.

Bishop Manning wrote to the rector of St. Marks-in-the-Bouwerie, Dr. William N. Guthrie:

Your action therefore in inviting Bishop Brown to officiate in your parish is in open contempt arid defiance of the authority and law of the Church of which you are a minister . . . and I hereby admonish you that if you proceed in defiance of the inhibition of the Bishop of the Diocese such action upon your part will be in direct violation of the constitution and canons of the Church, and will be regarded as conduct unbecoming a clergyman under the terms of Canon 28 of the General Convention.

Next day, both Bishop Brown and

Dr. Guthrie gave out that the Bishop of New York notwithstanding, Bishop Brown would speak at St. Marks-in-the-Bouwerie.

Crowds filled the pink-steepled church. The ritual of the service toned on. Finally, at the ritual’s end, curtains were drawn across the sanctuary. The church, according to Rector Guthrie, was no longer a church but an auditorium.

The old heretical Bishop sat on the dais, folded his black-gloved hands. A fascinated crowd waited the defiant climax when he should rise to utter swift-footed words. He walked to the front of the dais. Cheers resounded. He stretched forth his hand in benediction. He put his black-gloved finger to his lips, signifying they were sealed. He beamed with childish delight, returned to his seat.

Rector Guthrie proceeded to announce that Bishop Brown’s speech would be given a few days later in another edifice. The crowd, disgruntled, disintegrated.

Charged with bad faith, Rector Guthrie broke forth upon reporters: “Do you think I’m a damned fool? I don’t propose to be tried on another man’s quarrel.”

Later, the bad bishop said his secret idea had been to address the audience in the park outside the church. He had forgotten that there was no park near that church, that a police permit was necessary.