- Feb 5, 2002
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[IMG alt="Interiors of a Unitarian church (l) and the Catholic parish church of St. George and Pancras, part of the former Cistercian monastery in Raitenhaslach, Germany.
"]https://publisher-ncreg.s3.us-east-...4fafdd5ac23a54bd538cf4b974.jpg[/IMG]Interiors of a Unitarian church (l) and the Catholic parish church of St. George and Pancras, part of the former Cistercian monastery in Raitenhaslach, Germany. (photo: Jorge Salcedo / Chris Redan / Shutterstock)
The rough-and-tumble correspondence between two women, one Catholic and one Unitarian, provides one model of how people who disagree can speak to each other.
It is not a book anyone would publish now. It’s an artifact from a bygone age. People don’t talk this way anymore:
“Theologically, I’m afraid you have nothing to offer,” the Catholic wrote the Unitarian with whom she’d started exchanging letters on the differences between the two beliefs. Months later, after reading an official Unitarian booklet explaining the religion, she described Unitarianism as “like Diet-Rite cola: no calories, very little taste, and a throw-away bottle.”
In another letter, she objects to the Unitarian’s attempt, obviously sincere, to understand Catholic teaching, but almost always making it simplistic: “Not everyone can take a profound Christian doctrine (a doctrine that the theologians may have toiled over for several centuries) and so quickly reduce it to the level of ‘I see the cat. Do you see the cat? It is sitting on the mat.’”
The Unitarian was a religiously curious housewife (her word) and social activist named Betty Mills (no relation to me), who had written Hasley a fan letter about Reproachfully Yours, while noting, “I can’t swallow the religious porridge you serve up.” She, much younger than Hasley, wanted to know what Catholics believed and had even enrolled in an inquirer’s class at the local parish in Bismarck, North Dakota, just to find out what Catholics thought.
Continued below.
www.ncregister.com
"]https://publisher-ncreg.s3.us-east-...4fafdd5ac23a54bd538cf4b974.jpg[/IMG]Interiors of a Unitarian church (l) and the Catholic parish church of St. George and Pancras, part of the former Cistercian monastery in Raitenhaslach, Germany. (photo: Jorge Salcedo / Chris Redan / Shutterstock)
The rough-and-tumble correspondence between two women, one Catholic and one Unitarian, provides one model of how people who disagree can speak to each other.
It is not a book anyone would publish now. It’s an artifact from a bygone age. People don’t talk this way anymore:
“Theologically, I’m afraid you have nothing to offer,” the Catholic wrote the Unitarian with whom she’d started exchanging letters on the differences between the two beliefs. Months later, after reading an official Unitarian booklet explaining the religion, she described Unitarianism as “like Diet-Rite cola: no calories, very little taste, and a throw-away bottle.”
In another letter, she objects to the Unitarian’s attempt, obviously sincere, to understand Catholic teaching, but almost always making it simplistic: “Not everyone can take a profound Christian doctrine (a doctrine that the theologians may have toiled over for several centuries) and so quickly reduce it to the level of ‘I see the cat. Do you see the cat? It is sitting on the mat.’”
Neither Was a Diplomat
The Catholic was a once-popular writer named Lucile Hasley, who had published three collections of essays with Sheed & Ward, the first in 1949 with the lovely title Reproachfully Yours. Once a Presbyterian, she had entered the Church in her 20s, describing her conversion as “tripping blindly over a threshold and being thrown flat on one’s stomach into the House of Light.” Her husband taught English at Notre Dame and they lived in South Bend.The Unitarian was a religiously curious housewife (her word) and social activist named Betty Mills (no relation to me), who had written Hasley a fan letter about Reproachfully Yours, while noting, “I can’t swallow the religious porridge you serve up.” She, much younger than Hasley, wanted to know what Catholics believed and had even enrolled in an inquirer’s class at the local parish in Bismarck, North Dakota, just to find out what Catholics thought.
Continued below.
The Catholic Who Told the Unitarian She Had Nothing to Offer
COMMENTARY: The rough-and-tumble correspondence between two women, one Catholic and one Unitarian, provides one model of how people who disagree can speak to each other.
