Mass Meeting to Key Up Campaign | Two Christian Clergymen to Share in Program on Eve of Start of Jewish Welfare Fund Drive

The Cincinnati Enquirer · 15 Nov 1934

Roosevelt and Jefferson

April 1945

On Patriotism

Patriotism need not be construed as being synonymous with racial arrogance or national selfishness. Nationalism can run rampant and defeat its own purpose.

The United States should lead in peace, pressing upon other nations a unilateral pact for non-aggression suggested by President Roosevelt in which each nation should pledge itself not to send military forces across the border on any other nation.

The President should be authorized to place an embargo on credits to nations that send military forces across the boundaries of other nations. This should apply not only to arms and munitions, but all credit.

--Jesse Halsey, c1934

ALL SOULS; Acts 27:37

Jesse Halsey | 1934 | Part II 

Private collection

  

“And there were in all the ship two hundred, three score and sixteen souls.”

In a neighboring factory, one day last week, an emery wheel “let go,” as they say, and flying off into space, worked havoc. Something in the conglomerate composition of the carborundum was not able to stand the stress, and break-up resulted. This is a picture, to many contemporary minds, of our civilization. It is flying to pieces. On the other hand, there are many whose picture is much more moderate. Forces of disintegration are undoubtedly at work, they say, and for better or for worse, changes have come and are coming; but the essential fabric is sound. The emery wheel still revolves and has cutting quality, though its spindle may be slightly eccentric.

No one but the extreme Tory believes that the machinery of our social and political life is in anything like perfect alignment. To begin with, there are no end of personal and party differences. The President last week very pointedly told the bankers that their group did not agree among themselves. There is certainly a divided counsel in the administration itself. No one can predict whether it will swing right or left. Take any church group, and it is hard to find a dozen people who absolutely agree about any one thing.

Four ministers sat at lunch last Friday. After rather vigorously criticizing the President, one of them pointed out that if they four were committed with the destiny and policy of their own denomination, they could not agree among themselves, not only in details of administration, but on some points of, what their fathers would have considered, basic theology.

Everywhere you find it:

Catholic versus Protestant

Jew versus Gentile

Democrat versus Republican

Charter versus Organization

Blacks versus Whites

Capital versus Labor

The haves versus the have-nots

Conservative versus Radical

Pacifist versus Militarists

The list could easily be doubled. It looks like a football schedule, only in this game there is generally less sportsmanship than is manifest on the intercollegiate gridiron. What is it, then, that holds our conglomerate society together? With all the causes of faction and division, what is it that makes the whole cohere? There must be something in the life of our body politics, for in spite of all the disruptive forces, in peace and in war, the nation, for over one hundred and fifty years, has held together.

It is encouraging to note, in the first place, that these divisions are nothing new. The present agitation in political circles, induced by Catholic interest in public school money, is a mere echo of the thunders of the “Know-Nothing” agitations of sixty years ago. We will always have some “Klansmen” with us. Likely, all that we can ask is, that they go unmasked.

The newer and more accurate historians of our Revolutionary War indicate very clearly that sentiment in the colonies was anything but unified. John Adams says that in Massachusetts, likely the most patriotic colony, nearly forty-five percent of the people were opposed to the Revolution. (Curiously enough, the loyal people in those days were those that supported the king. In this case, as often, the revolutionist of one period becomes the patriot of another.)

Fifteen Years Ago . . . To Day

Jesse Halsey | 1934

2726 Cleinview Av

Cincinnati, O

John Harley is always in church. He is proud of his church, is one of its trustees, and is a loyal and friendly toward his minister. He is a capable lawyer, direct and plain spoken, though not profound.

Last Sunday the minister preached on a curious text, “The Holy Ghost saith, Today!” It hardly made sense in itself. And then the minister was—well, he said something about the New Deal and the President’s latest message. Being a Democrat, Harley agreed, though he wasn’t sure that the minister gave entire approval. That didn’t matter.

Then the minister had something to say about that two-thirds of Protestantism who seldom or never go to church. That was true—and that was fine. Harley is always there.

But then he started on war, the minister did. Its terror and its devastation, its awful waste. Harley knew all about it; he had been over there. And just fifteen years ago to the day, and the hour, Harley had been sailing up the Bay coming home. The band had been playing and there was the Statue of Liberty—the world had been made safe!

The breeze, cool from the night’s thunder shower, blew in through the church window and summoned the minister to an extra five minutes—and Harley to his thoughts.

What was he saying? The danger of the hour is in a nationalistic religion whether you look at Germany or America? There was a reference to the MacIntosh case. Harley is a great admirer of Mr. Justice Hughes. So apparently, in this instance, was the minister.

Then bang—“never again”; “the method is wrong”; “naval preparedness is the worst possible gesture . . .”; “Christ said men were brothers”; “I must act that way even in the face of propaganda . . .”; “I can’t say categorically, in advance, in face of any or all conditions that I won’t fight, but I wish I could.”

That was good but likely camouflaged pacifism—(Harley wears a legion button). Hang it, he came here to worship, to get a start for the week and its problems, to get out of himself and find God, and here the minister was shooting ethics. Well, that was a minister’s privilege, his honest soul replied, and likely his business.

But why today? Fifteen years ago he had come home after eighteen months in the trenches and all he had believed then was held false now. What was the matter? Anyway, there was no use getting mad about it and—well, the minister had been over there, too. His church had sent him and paid his salary to his family; he had served the government without pay.

The sermon went on to a swift conclusion. God is Lord of the Conscious. The state is not supreme . . . God comes first  . . . In a Christian state there is room for the conscientious objector . . . No Christian should ever cross the boundary of another country with any but good intent, in peace or in war—and then there would be no war. No thorough-going pacifism, but enough to irritate the veteran who was sailing up the bay just fifteen years ago to the minute—allowing for daylight saving time; this careful lawyer.

So Harley tackled the minister, expressing not his anger, but his doubts. “Fifteen years ago we (that was generous) went. Now you advocate a philosophy just the opposite.”

“Yes, because the other didn’t work. Only ideals got us in and none of those objectives were accomplished.”

“That was the miserable politicians,” countered Democrat Harley. “But when the duly constituted representative of the people in congress assembled vote for war, every loyal citizen who can bear arms must respond, regardless.”

“Miserable politicians” then perverted the peace, “high minded statesmen” shall mould the future issue?

The minister’s logic, for the moment, was better than the lawyer’s—and they agree to defer further argument until after the Trustees’ meeting on Monday night.

Meanwhile, Harley is puzzled. Nor is the minister entirely sure. It would be so much easier to be a thorough-going Pacifist than a reasonable (and reasoning) Idealist.

Seneca

Reverend Jesse Halsey | Chicago c1942

“Come after Me and I will make you . . .”    Matthew 4:19

A group of Roman boys went with their troubles to Seneca, the philosopher. After hearing them patiently, he said: “What you need is someone to follow.”

The obverse of that coin I saw on Sunday at the Ravenswood “L” Station. On a billboard was chalked in big black letters, “Heil Hitler. To H--- with F.D.R.” Someone to follow!

Sabatier said that man is incurably religious. I believe it and have seen no end of people forsake the faith of their fathers to go off into some new ism. We al follow someone. It is a matter of choice what kind of a leader it is. Some years ago, after preaching in an Eastern Prep School, at lunch the young Headmaster told me very frankly, “That was ‘old stuff,’ the boys no longer think of heroes.” (I had preached a sermon on Joshua.)

That evening the senior class met for supper at the Headmaster’s house. I was asked to talk to them, so I asked them to ask me some questions. They said, “Tell us about Grenfell.” “Tell us about Lenin.” (They had been told I had been in Labrador and in Russia.) Here it was—“old stuff” sure, but “someone to follow.”

The Roman boys asked Seneca, “Whom do you suggest, sir?” He said, “Socrates.””

Immediately (likely with bad grace) the young men began to pick flaws in the character of Socrates.

Two seminary students years ago were spending the weekend in the home of a Moravian saint and learned Bishop. They had been airing their ideas on the Trinity, the person of our Lord, and whatnot. Finally, one of them with a belated courtesy turned to the Bishop and said, “Uncle Eddie, what do you think?” And the old Bishop simply said, “He is my hero,”—someone to follow!

Sir John Seeley in Ecce Homo indicates that unless we find Christ as a man, we are not likely to discover Him as a Savior. That is the experience of many, including the writer. “Someone to follow!” He is my “hero”! (I suggest that during the month that we read one of the gospels through every day. Suppose, for example, that the next thirty days we should each day read St. Luke (the most beautiful book ever written, Renan said), and intimately associate with the character there portrayed by the beloved physician.—“Someone to follow!”

He is my hero because of His infinite patience (one reason among a thousand others). I see him take shifting Simon in hand and of that characterless quantity make Peter—the rock. John, “the son of thunder” is transformed into the beloved disciple. It took a long time; the process is slow; but the grace irresistible. Thomas the doubter I am glad he was included, he is so like so many of us, included among the disciples not for his doubts’ sake, but for his loyalty—“Let us go up to Jerusalem and die with him.”

Patient with them, patient with us!

And then He is my Hero “because of His courage.” With the small cords and blazing eyes He cleanses the temple of grafters, overturning the money changers’ tables with indignant speech, “Make not my Father’s house a den of thieves.” Demosthenes, himself, never equaled the fiery invective in which my Hero denounced those who “steal widows houses and for a pretext make long prayers.”

The red badge of courage is worn by those who do the will of God, but even a greater courage is required to bear the will of God, and with a “face like flint” Christ set himself to go up to Jerusalem, where a cross awaited—“For this hour came I into the world.” Soul agony, but no hesitations—“My God, why?” “Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit.” Courage to bear the will of God—My Hero!

A group of children were wrestling with a jigsaw map of these United States. Maine and Florida and California and Washington—they knew the corners. Square Utah and Kansas, they were easy, but crooked Cape Cod—Massachusetts, and funny little Delaware didn’t fit. Finally, in desperation they turned the puzzle over and with swift progress put it together, for on the wall of their grandfather’s study they had seen many times the features of the “Father of His Country,” and the picture puzzle of Washington went together much faster than the States on the other side. This is a parable of the experience of many:

“That one face, far from vanish, rather grows,

            Decomposes but to recompose,

Becomes my universe that feels and knows.”

“Someone to follow”---and Jesus said, “Come after Me and I will make you!”

By Default

Jesse Halsey / Radio Address c1935

The World Court protocols have again failed to pass our Senate. If the prestige of a President, who can get a blank check for four billion, could not bring the Senators into line, what can? Apparently, a “barrage of telegrams” is more effective than the influence of the Chief Executive.

Anyone who listened to Father Couglin or Senator Reynolds or Huey Long, when they were on the air, realized, as never before, the awful power of the radio in the hands of propagandists, not to say demagogues.

(I realize it is very easy to call the other fellow bad names.) If we are to change the picture, we must, in the future, not take anything for granted; but begin to organize our forces and be prepared to make vocal, in Washington, such public opinion as we can create and direct. This presupposes a consistent policy of education in the cities and at the crossroads, to proclaim the ideals of brotherhood and the international implications of the Gospel, to make “Americanism” something more than a narrow nationalism, to take the best idealistic traditions of our history and to exalt them.

Whoever is responsible for the policies of mission study deserves credit for placing the emphasis on Japan for this year. With current increase in armaments and our naval gestures in the Pacific, it is of great value for the churches to be studying and trying to understand Japan. Certainly, it is but a drop in the bucket, but, as a wise woman said, “The place for the drop is in the bucket.”

The Senators from Ohio voted on opposite sides on the World Court. The day following the vote, from Washington comes a dispatch to our morning paper, intimating that the anti-Senator has been deluged with telegrams of congratulations whereas the pro-court Senator had received no congratulatory messages. However large the “barrage” of anti telegrams may have been, eight names are mentioned in our paper. None of them happens to be known to me (and I have lived in our town for over twenty years). However, an array of fifty or sixty names of our “leading citizens” appear on the letterhead of our World Court Organization. None of us apparently have wired and, likely, few have written, either congratulating our pro-Court Senator or criticizing our anti. I imagine that is symptomatic the country over.

It is our business to sow the seed and plant the leaven, but on occasion it seems necessary that we count our sheaves or bake our loaves of bread. In other words, put pressure where it will make votes in Washington, or, quite frankly, engage in straight-forward, above-board “lobbying.” For our encouragement in this dark time when we desperately need it, let me rehearse in brief a bit of history that ought to give us hope and teach us some lessons.

President Nicholas Murray Butler [of Columbia University], after spending some time with Premier Briand, came home and, in a Sunday evening address to less than four hundred citizens at an eastern summer resort, outlined in substance what we now know as the “Pact of Paris.” A small committee of citizens selected that night went to Washington. President Coolidge and Secretary Kellogg thought the plan impossible and “unconstitutional.” Senator Borah said that he “would not oppose it”; and there it seemed to stall.

A Roman Catholic member of this citizen’s committee said to the others that the only method of approach was through the Federal Council. They saw Dr. Cadman and started the Council’s machinery and as it became evident that individuals and groups the country over were interested, the plan began to take form. Its unilateral feature became multilateral, and other minor changes were introduced, but under the pressure of public interest in high places, it became possible and constitutional and, curiously enough, in most quarters it now bears the name of the “Kellogg Pact.”

Apparently, we do have the machinery to make vocal our idealism. None of us say that the League of Nations is a synonym for the Kingdom of God nor that the World Court will bring universal peace, but we do feel ashamed and humiliated that our great country, whose statesmen designed and set up the machinery of peace, seems afraid to use it herself. The world must judge that we have things or fear things in the future, that we are afraid to adjudicate of public opinion. Nationalism is in the ascendant; preparedness races are eminent. America, at least officially, begins to line up with the unidealistic and anti-Christian forces. The next decade will be a “testing time”—a period of judgment. The weapons of our warfare are not carnal. We need to teach and live, but it is perfectly legitimate and entirely necessary that we make vocal in places where it will count our determined opposition to increased armaments, to isolationist policies—to Chauvinism in all its forms.

Dr. Freiberg & Mr. Roosevelt

Rare Documents Reveal Long Correspondence Between FDR and Cincinnati Physician 
Letters, telegrams detail efforts to open Warm Springs

Telegram from FDR to Dr. Albert Freiberg from the collections of the American Jewish Archives in Cincinnati, Ohio

CINCINNATI, OH: The Jacob Rader Marcus Center of the American Jewish Archives (AJA) in Cincinnati, Ohio has received a correspondence series that took place over a period of years (1925-1939) between President Franklin Delano Roosevelt and Dr. Albert Freiberg, a Cincinnati orthopedic surgeon. Roosevelt elicited the help of Dr. Freiberg during his quest to establish Warm Springs, Georgia as a place of treatment for victims stricken with polio. The collection was given to the AJA by the family of Dr. Richard Freiberg, grandson of Dr. Albert Freiberg.

Dr. Albert Freiberg (1868-1940) obtained his M.D. in 1890 from the Medical College of Ohio, now the University of Cincinnati Medical School. He served as professor of orthopedic surgery at the University of Cincinnati from 1902-1939 and was an emeritus professor until his death.

His son, Dr. Joseph Freiberg, became an orthopedic surgeon, succeeding his father in directing the orthopedic services of the hospitals affiliated with the College of Medicine of Cincinnati. Albert Freiberg's grandson, Dr. Richard Freiberg, began a practice now known as the Freiberg Orthopaedic group. Now Richard Freiberg's son Andrew– Albert's great-grandson– is an orthopedic surgeon practicing in Massachusetts.

The series includes telegrams and letters that describe the efforts to open a sanctuary for those afflicted with the debilitating effects of poliomyelitis.

Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion