respect of our eternal interests and responsibilities: using for this
real discipline, and the influences of liturgy and creed.

(2) Yet it must not so standardize and socialize this life as to leave
no room for personal freedom in the realm of Spirit: for those
"experiences of men in their solitude" which form the very heart of
religion.

(3) It must not be so ring-fenced, so exclusive, so wholly conditioned
by the past, that the voice of the future, that is of the prophet giving
fresh expression to eternal truths, cannot clearly be heard in it; not
only from within its own borders but also from outside. But

(4) On the other hand, it must not be so contemptuous of the past and
its priceless symbols that it breaks with tradition, and so loses that
very element of stability which it is its special province to preserve.

I go on now to the second aspect of institutional religion: Cultus.

We at once make the transition from Church to Cultus, when we ask
ourselves: how does, how can, the Church as an organized and enduring
society do its special work of creating an atmosphere and imparting a
secret? How is the traditional deposit of spiritual experience handed
on, the individual drawn into the stream of spiritual history and held
there? Remember, the Church exists to foster and hand on, not merely the
moral life, the life of this-world perfection; but the spiritual life in
all its mystery and splendour--the life of more than this-world
perfection, the poetry of goodness, the life that aims at God. And this,
not only in elect souls, which might conceivably make and keep direct
contacts without her help, but in greater or less degree in the mass of