Yinger states that it is plain to see the universality of religion, though it has a wide variety in forms of expression. While societies were in relatively infrequent contact with each other the facts of universality and variety were insignificant, but when contact became extensive, with mobility and change creating situations of religious diversity within societies, these facts became more important. Though religions share many things in common, their values and effects can be differentiated, and informed value choices are still needed. The sociologist and the scientific study of religion makes certain assumptions that the methods of objective science can be applied to religious phenomenon and that religion, when it is being examined within the framework of science, is dealt with as a part of the natural world, subject to the laws of cause and effect and the rules of logic. Yinger believes his tentative efforts to state how religion and society interact under certain conditions are valuable not only to other sciences, but to the religious quest itself. The intricate ways in which religion is involved in the life of society are revealed by exploring religious movements in their social settings. Yinger's interpretive essays explore some of the religious consequences of the growth of cities, of minority status, of the decline of ethnic groups, of prosperity, and of rapid social change. He looks at religion from the perspectives of sociology, anthropology, and social psychology seeing it as one of the processes of social life while recognizing the limitations of these views.

The sociologist begins with the basic proposition that religion cannot be understood in isolation from the rest of society. Religion is part of a system, interacting with the economic and political aspects of society, the family patterns, the technology, and the nature of the communities. If one part of a system changes, the other parts are influenced in various ways. Yinger proposes that if literacy, mobility, and science develop in a community, its religions will undergo important changes, not just superficially, but fundamentally. If a new religion moves into a society, the whole social structure feels the impact, while at the same time modifying the religion it absorbs.

Every society has some pattern of belief and action by means of which it performs certain vital functions; in essence every society has a religion, even if it is an anti-religion. The ultimate question of many religions is how man spends eternal life, but Yinger claims that most people today are more likely to ask of their religion that it helps them to understand the suffering, loneliness, and meaninglessness of life. He says that religion can be defined as a group-supported road to salvation, but asks salvation from what?

Yinger claims the major religions of the world developed in rural settings, and says even today religion is tied to rural societies. The growth of cities with the development of urbanization has posed new problems for religious institutions as well as for political, economic, and familial institutions. Urban societies create a situation for the first time in human history where individuals interact daily with strangers whose values and goals are different from their own. Literacy and mobility expand horizons of contact, and with contact, disenchantment and secularization come into play. In the urban setting, kinship units lose some solidarity and functions, but despite this loss, the family remains a vital part of urban life. These urban societies are characterized by increased normlessness, witnessing a reduction in the value consensus of the majority of people who have been influenced by mass media and mass production. Although agreement on norms and values decrease, functional interdependence and tolerance tend to increase. The profound changes in the nature of life in urban societies, Yinger says, has enormous consequences for religion. Most of the religious movements in cities reflect the efforts of various groups to come to terms with urban life, while searching for some stability in this ever-changing setting. The revival of interest in religion is a manifestation of these conflicts and anxieties of contemporary life.

Religion is believed to be good for society in that it softens some of the harsher consequences of the pursuit of secular values and that it makes it easier for diverse groups to live with one another without sharp conflict, emphasizing a common humanity. In the search for some ultimate meaning to existence, some system of beliefs that lends dignity to life and makes suffering less severe, few are likely to be persuaded by a religion that disregards the conflicts and the institutions that make life harsh and meaningless to many. With the central areas of most of our metropolitan districts deteriorating, the consequences are well recognized. Physical decay is followed by disease, delinquency, crime, racial conflict, political corruption, and value confusion, while gangs, narcotics, or alcohol might be used in a desperate effort to find a sense of well-being in the midst of a society that crushes the sense of self-worth. These religious substitutes derive from the botched efforts of conquered individuals to find a road to salvation. If established churches pass them by, moving out to the suburbs and resisting those lower in status, and often different in race or ethnic group, then they will inevitably accept these substitutions. Just when the stabilizing efforts of the churches are needed, its members tend to look for more comfortable circumstances, turning their back on the harshness of the inner-city and its inhabitants. .

In functional analysis, emphasis is placed on both the possible contribution of religion to society and its contribution to individuals, in lending dignity and significance to their lives, even in the face of crushing difficulties. It is not enough today for religion to give vitality and support to a shared system of values, but it must also negotiate among groups who have different values in an effort to maintain in them a sense of common humanity. Modern societies are held together by political and functional interdependence despite the lack of kinship identity and in the face of cultural differences. Urban man has responded by inventing religious tolerance, though it is safe to say we are never tolerant about our basic values. Yinger believes that if there is a return to religion, it is to an organization that makes few creedal demands and rouses in us few fundamental values, but many people continue to use religion as the final judge of life's values, and are likely to be intolerant when basic issues arise. Some kind of religious conflict is likely in a complex society consisting of a variety of religious traditions. We tend to minimize these problems by counting them as the inevitable fruits of religious freedom. In a period of such repeated crises as we have known, renewed attention to man's capacity for evil comes into the Theologian's mind, while sociologists try to relate their work to the whole series of forces that influence man in modern society. Theological approaches are highly abstract, seeking to reduce religion to a few fundamental propositions, free from the distortions of particular times and places, but the people flock to popular interpreters, largely unaware of the work of intellectual leaders. If these religious leaders continue to insist that only their own tradition contains fundamental truths, Yinger says we will find folk religion and religious substitutes performing the integrating function of the churches. The universalism of world religions is ready to declare that all men are brothers; but man's salvation depends on his acceptance of the particular religions own temporally and culturally bound revelations and traditions.

Social change begins with technology, with a population increase or decrease, with economic improvement or decline, with an increase of interaction with other societies, with the pronouncements of a prophet, or in other ways. Institutional arrangements that are taken for granted or thought of as independent are brought forcibly to attention, by rapid change as parts of a system. Religion is part of this complex system, with its developments best understood as responses to fundamental changes in their social environment which feed back into the system from which it came. The influences set in motion become, in turn, conditioning and constraining forces that affect the religion that released them. The development of religious sects and cults have appeared among groups caught in severe disprivilege, frequently being racial or cultural minorities who have been overrun by a more advanced or more powerful society. With their traditional way of life destroyed, belief in the old ways declines, values and desires are taken over from the invading force, yet full acceptance of the new way and its religion is neither possible nor permissible. The resulting religions that arise out of this context are alien from the perspectives of both the invading and the invaded cultures and often involve a strong emphasis on group conflict. These religious cults and sects have the potential to carry their members over into a new life, drastically readapting their personalities. The likelihood of these functions are not certainties, depending on the responses of the surrounding society. The phenomenon found in these cults are the product of attitudes of a culture torn between hatred of the people who had destroyed the old way of life and now dominated them by force, and the desire to obtain for themselves the possessions of their conquerors. But such malice toward the dominant society is not limited to conquered peoples. If, within a society, a group lacks an independent and successful past which can serve as the focus for its future, they can affirm that they are the true defenders of a tradition shared with their oppressors who have fallen into sinful ways. They are scarcely less critical of the existing institutions than a conquered people, attacking that society by downgrading its institutions and refusing to give it final loyalty. Even in a society where freedom of religion is the rule, there is little tolerance for those efforts to win salvation that involve direct attack on the social order and its dominant religious organizations. Almost universally, the response of those in power is suppression and curtailment of activities, making the movements relatively short-lived. But if the movement is suppressed while the basic forces that produced it remain in operation, the group will reappear in new guises time after time. Two kinds of religious groups may evolve from a revolutionary movement. If hope for restoration and independence fades, a more accommodative group will form, but if there is growth in hope, along with status improvement, the group that forms will orient toward that of the dominant members of society, with the sect to church transition likely taking place. Depending on the variables of hope and discipline, groups will differentiate into several types of religious activity, from gang membership to strictly disciplined militant and religious groups, representing the range of endeavor among disprivileged persons to wrest some dignity and meaning from life.

On the other end of the spectrum, many people in modern societies find themselves in relative comfort, with the changes affecting them quite different. With the reduction of illness, lengthening of life, an increase in mobility, more leisure time, increased education, and the extension of contact across cultures many people in these societies are concerned with loneliness in a sea of acquaintances, meaninglessness amidst conflicting values, self-alienation in context of contradictory role requirements, and tense interpersonal and intergroup relations. Two trends among these privileged members are a renewed interest in religion along side of secularization, and religious separatism in the context of ecumenicity. The decline of authentic religious content along with the rise of humanistic and nationalistic themes is usually a hidden process carried on underneath symbols of non-change. The churches of those who are comfortable in a society are usually well accommodated to that society, which does not necessarily denote secularism. The church works within the structure of the established social order, adjusting to dramatic changes in the world within which it works. We are in fact witnessing religious change, the development of new religious forms, which can be a sign of strength. The catastrophic wars of the last few generations, the vast cruelties of totalitarian governments, and the incredible threats of future war make it apparent that man has won no salvation from death, injustice or hostility. These developments support revival among the religious professionals, but these theologians seem less accustomed to dealing with the new crises of affluence, mobility, and anomie. The other aspect of religious separatism and ecumenicity is strongly affected by the social forces which continue to operate to preserve religious differentiation despite the reduction of some of the separating influences. While a few religious leaders engage in discussions concerned with the reduction of religious separation, many economic, political, and educational associations cut across religious lines, with interfaith marriages being the best index of the extent of separation or integration. The consequences for religion may reinforce ecumenicalism in the context of extensive growth of interfaith marriage. Because it is the marginal member who is most likely to intermarry, the ranks of the unchurched may swell, or could lead to new religious identities or conversions. Opposition to intermarriage is one way family and societal influence is widely assumed to promote ethnic-religious group continuation. Different classes, races, ethnic groups, and regions develop different religious values and structures, according to the variation in needs and experiences in a heterogeneous society. Although the ethnic lines which reinforced religious divisions may be fading, the religious lines of distinction remain clear. Future developments of ethnic-religious groups depend on the external situation in which the members find themselves. Yinger states that only after we have developed pluralistic patterns appropriate to the needs of modern societies can we create a system for the world, in which similarities are not coerced and differences do not divide.

Yinger concludes by saying that first physics and astronomy, then biology, and now sociology and psychology have brought into question some of the assumptions of a stable religious world-view. He observes that after centuries of presumed conflict, both science and religion continue to prosper. The religious forms that are developing in the context of science may not be meaningful and creative to some, with too much richness being lost or too much that has lost its significance being retained. But this much we know, claims Yinger, by the growth of knowledge, religion may be changed, but it will not be destroyed. The social sciences will modify contemporary religious expressions, but it cannot satisfy the needs from which religion springs. Yinger speculates that in a society where science has become a vital part of the world view of most people, either religious expressions in harmony with that fact will develop, or religious substitutes will prevail which would only marginally help us deal with the human condition. In dealing with the individual and group powers of the world, religion is working in a constantly more complicated situation. He proposes that in a world in which brotherhood has become an absolute necessity rather than an exciting vision, accepting forms of religious expression that had meaning a century or decade ago could be an utter failure.

His essays were quite convincing in some aspects, but I disagree with his assumption that accepting religious forms of the past can be seen as a failure. The faith that has been handed down to us by our forefathers is just as significant today as it was when it was first formed. The ways we express that faith may be different somewhat, but its inherent meaning will ultimately never change.

Luckmann's assumption, that individual existence and its relation to the social order is historical, produces the problem that individual existence in society has reached a critical point in the contemporary world. He maintains that the relevance of sociology for contemporary man derives primarily from its search for an understanding of the fate of the person in the structure of modern society. He states that in order for the sociologist's theory to be relevant to his fellow man, he must not fail to formulate it objectively and in a manner, which permits the inspection of evidence, which should be his most important aim.

The problem of individuality within society, according to Luckmann, can be unified in the sociological theory of religion, which he says, can be attributed to Emile Durkheim and Max Weber. He states that both were interested in the fate of the individual in modern society and recognized that the character of society had serious consequences for the individual person. Their concern for the social conditions of the individual, he claims, clearly expresses the moral engagement of their sociological theorizing. Both Durkheim and Weber sought to understand the social position of the individual in the study of religion. For Durkheim, the symbolic reality of religion is the core of the collective conscience and its internalization by man makes him into a social and moral human being. For Weber, the social conditions of individualism is more specific in the historical context of particular religions and their relation to historical societies. Both Durkheim and Weber linked the problem of the individual in modern society directly to the secularization of the contemporary world. Both recognized this as a religious problem.

The sociology of religion consists of an increasing number of studies in the demography of churches, statistics of participation in church related activities, analyses of sectarian movements, monographs of ecclesiastic organizations, and various studies of religious beliefs. But according to Luckmann, finding theoretical significance amidst all these studies is disappointing. The new sociology of religion has neglected its most significant theoretical task, which is to analyze the changing social basis of religion in modern society. The answer to this problem may be found in the cumulative findings of investigations in areas such as industrial and occupational sociology, the family, mass communications, leisure, and those few studies in the sociology of religion which go beyond the scope of traditional church religion.

In the absence of an organized theory, Luckmann proposes that some assumptions have developed that perform the function of theory. The main assumption consists in the identification of religion with the church, which has the most important consequences for research and theory in the sociology of religion. Religion becomes a social fact either as institutionalized ritual or doctrinal ideas. The identification of religion with the church fits into sociology as the study of social institutions. The well known thesis, that religion is a primitive stage in the evolution of human reason and would eventually be replaced by science has contributed to the misunderstood assumption that secularization is measured by the decline of the churches. This view of secularization tends to be explained by transformations in other areas of the social system, such as urbanization and industrialization, which were believed to undermine traditional institutions such as the church. The assumption that church and religion are identical is accompanied by the idea that individual religiosity is based upon psychological needs which are both defined and met by the church.

Luckmann says, this is an inadequate system for understanding the relationship between the individual, religion, and society. He believes individual religiosity cannot be understood without reference to a given historical and institutional reality of ritual and belief. These assumptions are based upon an identification of religion with its institutionalized form; therefore, the discipline of sociology accepts the ideology of the churches as valid interpretations of the range of their subject matter. The new sociology of religion is exclusively concerned with church oriented religiosity, but has failed to continue the theoretical traditions of the classical sociology of religion. It fails to concern itself with the location of the individual in society, whose position is essentially religious.

Individual religiosity, Luckmann acknowledges, is shaped by a historical church, which forms a doctrine that is codified in sacred texts, which in turn are transmitted and interpreted by an official body of experts in a binding manner for the laymen. As an historical institution, the church also develops traditions rooted in the interests of these administrative elites. The individual is socialized into the official model of religion to the intent that it constitutes his system of ultimate significance, which is incorporated into a worldview. The internalized model retains its meaning in the life of the individual by integrating and legitimizing the norms of conduct that govern the routines and crises of his existence. This model is elaborated by the experts and its various dimensions become the subjects of specialized knowledge in the form of doctrine, liturgy, and social ethics which places an emphasis on faith, good works, or ritual correctness.

The internalization of the model formulates in the individual specific norms of conduct and belief, which in turn defines role requirements. Religion may be perceived by the individual as the fulfillment of the particular role requirements. The segregation of these norms from the world, Luckmann says, could weaken the integrating function of religious representations for everyday conduct if not countered by the pervasion of religion in society. The fulfillment of these requirements becomes highly routine, threatening the ultimate significance to the individual, although the sacred quality of the norms continues to be nominally recognized. The model may still be plausible enough to motivate the fulfillment of specific norms, but could decrease to the extent that the institutionalized requirements are no longer observed by the typical members of society, unless non-religious motives are substituted for them. Since the official model is interpreted by the experts, who may become oblivious to the typical routines and crises of the laymen, this poses a danger of separation in the views of the experts and the matters of ultimate significance for the laymen. This can be countered, though, by interpretive translations of the doctrines of the theologians into the language of the laymen by a body of pastoral specialists. Combined with distinct models of church oriented religiosity and the routinization of the fulfillment of specific religious norms, this separation of views can be an important factor in the genesis of secularization.

Institutional specialization of religion transforms the relation of the individual to the worldview and in turn to the social order in general. The church enters into relationships with other specialized institutions whose primary functions are secular. The relations of the church to political and economic institutions range from mutual support to accommodation to competition to open conflict. In contexts of these relationships, the church inevitably develops secular interests of its own in addition to its doctrinal and liturgical traditions. Economic, political, and administrative practices are designed, which compromise the original intents of the church in the understanding of those who take the specific religious claims of the church literally. If the official model is taken at face value, they may question the legitimacy of these operations. In transmitting the official model to the laity the religious experts must give sacred explanations for the secular activities of the church. This pluralistic situation threatens the stability of the model. Competing institutions vie for official status habitually claiming doctrinal superiority and a higher degree of purity from secular involvements. The history of sectarian movements in Christianity provides ample support for this observation, Luckmann states.

The doctrine of the visible and invisible church in Christian theology serves as an example of the divergence of the official model of religion with the socially predominant view of ultimate significance. Institutional specialization of religion which includes standardized transmission of the official model, a doctrinal cannon and controls against deviation, decisively reinforces its textual stability, which is one of the most important vested interests of the influential body of religious experts. Under conditions of rapid social change, perspectives of consecutive generations will inevitably differ causing a serious problem for the specialized religious models. Due to its textual and organizational limitations, the official model of religion predictably changes at a slower pace than the social conditions that modify the predominant individual view of ultimate significance.

Some individuals may continue to adhere to the claims of the official model, eliminating any secular inconsistencies, which can lead to an inability to perform nonreligious roles effectively, and to a form of martyrdom resulting in a partial withdrawal from the world, accompanied by tolerable compromises with the world. But the conflicting requirements of religion and the world stimulate the individual to reflect on possible solutions. In the leap of faith solution to the problems of life, individual religiosity is reconstituted after a phase of doubt. If a plausible solution is not found, the routine of the pre-reflective attitude will continue to be followed. Another possibility is the formation of a value system in which religious roles are performed for secular reasons or wholly abandoned. Luckmann claims that at various levels of reflection, the individual tends to restrict the relevance of religious norms to areas that are not anticipated by secular institutions, making religion in essence a private affair. The institutional specialization of religion increasingly transforms it into a private reality, in which the liberation of individual consciousness from the social structure and the freedom in the private sphere provide the basis for the sense of autonomy characterized by the typical person in modern society.

The consequences of specialization and the observations on the relation between the official model and individual religiosity prepare for the analysis of religion in modern society, which cannot honestly attribute the decline of Christianity's traditional forms to the advent of secularist ideologies. The decline of traditional Christianity, Luckmann believes may be symptoms of a more revolutionary change, which could implicate the replacement of institutionalized religion by a new social form of religion. Factors that cause a growing incongruence between the official model and individual religiosity, disrupting the identity of church and religion, are present in this social form of religion. With a sense of autonomy, the individual is more likely to confront the culture of religion as a consumer, choosing from the assortment of ultimate meanings as he sees fit. Through a certain level of subjective reflection and personal choice, he constructs both his personal identity and his individual system of ultimate significance. The autonomous consumer selects certain religious themes from the available assortment and builds them into a private system of ultimate significance, making individual religiosity no longer a replica of an official model. Church religiosity can be viewed as one manifestation of an emerging, institutionally non-specialized social form of religion, which continues to occupy a special place because of its historical connections to traditional Christianity. This social form of religion emerging in modern industrialized societies is characterized by the direct accessibility of an assortment of religious representations, which makes religion essentially a phenomenon of the private sphere. This implies that there is no obligatory model of religion, but that religious themes continue to be socially mediated in some form.

Luckmann speculates that religious themes originate in the private sphere, resting primarily on emotions and sentiments that are sufficiently unstable to make their articulation difficult. These highly subjective themes are not defined by primary public institutions, but can be taken up by secondary institutions such as advice columns, inspirational literature, and popular song lyrics, which expressly cater to the private needs of the autonomous consumer. The primary institutions regulate the legal and economic frame within which the competition of the ultimate significance market occurs. The selection is based on consumer preference, Luckmann states, which is determined by the social biography of the individual, while similar biographies will result in similar choices. The autonomous individual will not only select certain themes but will likely construct a well-articulated private system of ultimate significance. The prevalent individual systems will consist of an unstable hierarchy of opinions legitimizing the priorities determined in private life.

In the absence of external support by primary institutions, subjectively constructed religiosity with its diverse systems of ultimate significance will have an uncertain reality for the individual. While these systems are characterized by considerable variability in content, they are structurally similar and relatively flexible. These systems of individual religiosity are supported by other persons in the private sphere, partially sharing and jointly constructing their ultimate significance, with no apparent conflict with the norms of the primary institutions. Support for these subjective systems may come from family, friends, neighbors, and significant others who share in the construction and stabilization of private universes of ultimate significance, with family being the most important medium. If these private universes unite to some degree, the groups may assume sectarian qualities, developing the secondary institutions referred to earlier.

The character of religious institutions was radically transformed by their loss of monopoly in defining the sacred universe. They are forced to compete with many other sources of ultimate significance for the attention of autonomous individuals. Since they are recognized as religious and claim a connection to the Christian universe, they continue to enjoy a certain advantage in the open market. To the extent that traditional Christian conversation survives, Luckmann alleges that it provides a vocabulary that disguises some newly emerging themes. These themes are internalized in a significantly different manner in different social sections. The dominant themes in the modern sacred universe bestows an almost sacred status on the individual by articulating his autonomy, which is consistent with the finding that ultimate meaning is found by the typical individual in modern industrial societies primarily in the private sphere of his private biography. The traditional symbolic universes become increasingly irrelevant to the everyday experience of the typical individual and lose their character as a reality.

Luckmann states that man's individual autonomy represents the absence of external restraints and the traditional taboos in the private search for his identity. Since the inner man is an undefinable entity, its supposed discovery involves a lifelong quest. The individual embarks on a journey of self-realization and self-expression that is intermittent because it is immersed in the recurrent routines of everyday life. Since his conduct is controlled by the primary public institutions, he recognizes the limits of his autonomy and learns to confine his search to the private sphere. Luckmann concludes that the modern sacred universe symbolizes the social-historical phenomenon of individualism, which bestows ultimate significance on the structurally determined private sphere. The structure of the modern sacred universe and the theme of its content represent the emergence of a new social form of religion, which is determined by a radical transformation in the relationship of the individual to the social order.

The secularization of the church, therefore, is not simply a symptom of the modern industrialized society, but is in fact a metamorphosing of the church within the church. As the external church appears to be declining to the undisciplined eye, its members are in essence becoming a new creation within the cocoon of the traditional Christian Church. The autonomy of the individual is a necessary stage in the development of the true church, which will worship in spirit and in truth rather than in the ritualistic outward manifestations of the traditional church. The convictions by the Holy Spirit of the autonomic individual must take precedence over the traditional model of institutionalized practices and faith. As the metamorphosing completes its cycle, the true church will emerge in a social revolution that will change the world. The divisions between denominations will fall as Christians abandon the disguises that have so long kept us in the ritualistic garb of the cocoon, though it was necessary to protect us through the cold season of reformation. The invisible religion will emerge from its cocoon and feed on the sweet nectar of the Spirit, and rest safely in the hand of God until we fly to the heavens a new creature.

Cloud and Townsend believe that the Word of God tells us clearly what our boundaries are and how to protect them, as well as what is not within our borders of responsibility, but that our families, and other past relationships, confuse us about our property lines. “We are responsible to others and for ourselves.” Being responsible to others is doing what they cannot do for themselves. Being responsible for ourselves is carrying our own daily loads. It is when one's daily load is exceeded beyond what he is capable of carrying, that we should bear one another's burdens. Both those who cannot set boundaries for themselves and those who do not respect the limits of others have boundary problems. While we are not responsible for others feelings, attitudes, and behaviors, we do have responsibilities to each other. The inability to respond to others genuine needs is neglecting our responsibility to them. Cloud and Townsend purport that setting boundaries does not mean building walls. They propose that our boundaries need to be passable in order to allow good relationships in, yet strong enough to keep out danger.

Some examples of boundaries that Cloud and Townsend expound on are the physical body boundaries, verbal boundaries, truth boundaries, geographical distance, time management boundaries, emotional distance, other people's boundaries, and consequences of boundaries. “The most basic boundary-setting word is no.” Cloud and Townsend say the Bible is very clear about letting your yes be yes and your no be no. The word no lets others know that you are in control of yourself. Those who cannot say no to others demands passively comply, but are inwardly resentful much of the time. When we say yes, it should be a reflection of our love, not simply an expression of guilt or compulsion. Our physical self is our first and foremost boundary that separates us from others. Victims of early physical or sexual abuse often have trouble setting clear boundaries. Our verbal boundaries should clearly express who we are and who we are not to others. Honesty about who we are and who God is are truth boundaries. Distortions of this reality have disastrous consequences in our lives. If we live in the truth, we are much happier. Those who do not accept the truth of who they are and who God is, live outside of their own and God's boundaries. Living a lie is a sure path to destruction.

Cloud and Townsend suggest that “the concept of boundaries comes from the very nature of God.” God limits what he allows in His presence. “He confronts sin and allows consequences for behavior.” He guards his property and allows no evil to abide in his presence. He invites all who repent of their evil to come in, while closing the gates on those who do not. “We need to develop boundaries like God's.” Sometimes we must create geographical distance by physically removing ourselves from a situation in order to clarify and maintain boundaries. We must do this at times in order to replenish ourselves physically, emotionally, and spiritually just as Jesus often did. Other times we must remove ourselves from evil and dangerous situations. The Bible urges us to separate ourselves from those who continually hurt us in abusive relationships (Mathew18: 17,18; I Cor5: 9-13). Time apart often heals relationships, while leading those who suffer a loss of fellowship to repentance and a change of behavior. Cloud and Townsend show us that setting limits on others behavior is not really possible, but that we can limit our own exposure to people who behave poorly. God lets us behave as we choose, but He does not allow evil to come into His house. All are welcome, but only the repentant can enter in. “God limits his exposure to evil, unrepentant people, as should we,” purports Cloud and Townsend.

Cloud and Townsend truthfully state that our most basic need in life is relationship. We need to be able to both give and receive love. Many people withhold love from others and cannot accept it from others out of fear of relationship due to past hurts. The heart must be able to trust enough to feel safe enough to love. Fear of being alone keeps many of us in abusive relationships for years. God does not enable us to continue acting irresponsibly. The Bible sets consequences for certain behaviors. We reap what we sow. We must also back up our boundaries with consequences when others trespass against us. Threats must be followed through with when behaviors continue to violate in order to let people know the seriousness of the trespass and teach them to respect our boundaries.

Behaviors always have consequences because of God's law of sowing and reaping, but when someone interrupts the natural progression of this law, that person often reaps the consequence of the other person's deed. To rescue one from the natural consequences of his behavior only serves to enable him to continue in that pattern. Cloud and Townsend pose that parents often fall into this trap, but propose that “parenting with love and limits, with warmth and consequences, produces confident children who have a sense of control over their lives.” We need to take responsibility for our choices, which produces the fruit of self-control in our lives. Often we try to lay this at someone else's feet, thereby relinquishing control over our behavior to someone else and avoiding the responsibility of that behavior. But we must realize that we are in control and if we choose to live by the spirit, we will live; and if we choose to follow our sinful nature, we will die.

We are reluctant to set boundaries in various areas of our lives because setting them causes conflict, especially when we have neglected to do so before. Setting and maintaining boundaries teaches others to respect your needs and desires as well as their own. If you do not maintain your boundaries, you will inevitably be in bondage to others whims. People with no boundaries respond automatically to the anger of others by rescuing them, seeking their approval, or getting angry back at them. Good boundaries allow us to be separate enough to love others. You can use physical distance as well as other limits to enforce consequences for those who do not respect your boundaries. When boundaries are enforced, others are forced to use self-control rather than other-control. As long as their behavior controls you, they have no need for changing that behavior. God says he will only do what is right and that he will not participate in evil. So when people continue to go their own way, he lets them alone, and often that is just what we must do in our relationships. One should consider the consequences of setting boundaries and be willing to accept risk and sometimes loss of relationship.

Setting limits is the first step in a long process of gaining freedom from others controlling behaviors. When one is physically overpowered by a controlling person, often abusive behavior escalates. Sometimes we need outside help to enforce our limits. Remaining in an abusive relationship is not a required for forgiveness to take place. Forgiveness is the responsibility of the abused, but reconciliation is the responsibility of the abuser as well. We may not be reconciled to an abusive person if they refuse to change their behavior, though we can still forgive them. We can forgive others, while guarding our heart until we see “fruit in keeping with repentance.” They should produce the fruits of repentance, the evidence of change, before we are reconciled to them in relationship. God is reconciled to his people when they are truly repentant, just as we might be reconciled with a person who has shown himself repentant and trustworthy. Forgiveness is for past offenses, where reconciliation is about future behavior. When people deny responsibility for their own behavior, without really trying or seeking help to change their behavior, then we need not accept reconciliation at the expense of our personhood.

Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend's book on boundaries is one of the best self-help books I have read. The psychological perspectives of understanding differing personalities, helps you to see where you fit in to the relationships that may be controlling you and limiting your freedom and peace. Learning to have peace in your self and in your relationships is dependent on your ability to set appropriate boundaries on yourself and respecting the boundaries of others.

Satan, in his many guises, is at again. Some poor, unsuspecting citizen has been attacked; or, some “buddy,” has been shot and killed. This story gets old. Day after day, we read about it. Robbing, killing, rape, atrocious offenses; sin-sick souls doing Satan's bidding. And, day after day, people are becoming more and more afraid to leave their homes after dark - and even sometimes during the day. No one is safe! What a frightening reality!

Author Bram Stoker created the fictional vampire, “Dracula,” and since the late thirties, Stoker's protagonist has been characterized on the movie screen many times. There was a time in my life when I spent a lot of time reading and going to the movies. I liked action movies that had such stars as Chuck Norris, but horror stories were my favorite, and vampires, I liked them best! But, always, I wanted the good guy to win. I made it a point to see every movie portrayal of this fictitious destroyer of men's souls - from Bela Lugosa to Boris Karloff, to Christopher Lee and other later actors.

But, in all the vampire movies there was a good guy, and in many of the movies, the good guy's name was Van Helsing. He was the one with the cross. In every ending the vampire was bested, cornered by the cross. The good guy, Van Helsing, would then beat him down and drive a wooden stake into his hateful heart, and the vampire king would disintegrate before our very eyes.

Today, when I think of this ending, I'm reminded of another ending, an ending that has been declared, prophesied and foretold in the Book of Revelations. The ending I'm referring to is the one where the foe is cast into the lake of fire. The one where the doom has been signed and sealed. The doom of the master of destruction - Satan's doom! For now, though, we have to fight this tempter of men's souls with God's Word.

Story has it that wherever the vampire strikes, it leaves another vampire in its place - another monster to roam, searching the night, seeking innocent pray to feed on - innocent and unsuspecting prey who, once bitten, become involuntary inductees into his army of evil.

We are taught that sin begets sin. A perfect example of this is the forbidden, addictive crack-cocaine and all the other mind-deadening drugs that Satan uses to lure his victims. Don't get me wrong I am not saying sin is limited to drug addiction . We know that Satan uses many guises. Drugs is just one of the many. And, they are just what their name exemplifies - they are drugs. Think about what the word means.

When the tiny white crystals of this deadly powder enters into the nostrils, bursts into the brain cells, and invade the senses of some bewitched, and confused person, another addict is born. This addict then makes his/her way to find another like him - others who too have been fooled by this deadly, poisonous lure of Satan. They introduce others, and the army begins to grow.

Because, as the vampire story goes, sunlight burns them up, vampires must have somewhere to sleep in the daylight hours. Thus, it's always at night that they parch the atmosphere with their evil. And, unlike their master, the new recruits have no place, or rather no “coffin” of their own to contain them in the daylight hours, so they must hide wherever they can from the sunlight which is so deadly to them.

As you read this story, I want you to think about something: SUNlight was deadly to the vampire; SON-light is life to the sinner.

Crack cocaine addicts can be caught in the same predicament as the fictional vampire. Very often they too have nowhere to sleep - nowhere to lay their heads. They have become so abusive, both verbally and physically, to parents, relatives and friends, that they're afraid to let them live in the same house with them.

If they don't get help, they become so hooked on the drugs that they'll do anything to support their habit, which means they'll steal from anybody, and they'll steal anything that isn't nailed to the floor. They simply cannot be trusted! They're like scavengers - grabbing whatever, whenever, and wherever they can - living solely for their habit. The hunger consumes them!

Vampire lore tells us the vampire has unlimited strength. It tells us it can burn holes through a human with it's eyes. We also read that the vampire is ageless; that it is called the undead. But, with all these formidable attributes, there is One whose attributes are even more formidable. He, too, is ageless. He, too, is undead, for He rose from the dead! He is Jesus Christ, Who, when He had risen, declared, “All power has been given to me both in heaven and in earth” (Matthew 28).

In reference to Jesus' crucixion, we sing the song, “There Is Power In The Blood.” Bram Stoker, creator of the vampire Dracula also used the blood to show power. His story was based on that very fact. First he used the blood for evil, then he turned it around to kill the evil with it.!

Jesus shed His blood at Calvary. He hung on a cross, and this Cross, this horrid piece of wood, became sacred because of His blood. It is the power of the Cross that is the nemesis for all sin. The fictional vampire couldn't even look upon it!

Here lies the same end for the addict. To quote a friend, “Drug addiction is a package deal. With the drugs come sex, and with the sex come horrible diseases! Diseases that can and do cripple, blind, and even kill! What then, is the solution?

The crack cocaine addict (and all who are addicted to sinful atrocities) must develop a thirst for righteousness - the righteousness of God. In Matthew 5:6, Jesus tells us, “Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness; for they shall be filled.”

“The hunger of a man's soul must be satisfied. God will answer the heart that cries. God will answer the soul that asks. Christ Jesus comes to us with divine assurance and invites us, when we are hungry to pray, to believe, to take from the Lord that which our soul covets and our hearts ask for.' (1)

Every person must hunger to have the righteousness of God in his spirit, in his soul, in his body, in all his affairs, in everything he does. When he does, he will be filled.

Stoker points out that the vampire's blood is evil, poisonous to all who would take of it - and it would have all to drink its tainted blood. The blood of Jesus Christ is precious. It cleanses, and not just once - it cleanses over and over! 1 John 1:9: “If we confess our sin, He is faithful and just to forgive us, and the blood of His Son cleanses us from all unrighteousness…..”

The blood of Jesus is the only cure for the sinner, but the only way the sinner can receive this precious blood is to come by the way of the Cross. How do they get to the Cross? We have to lead them there. It's all up to us. We have to tell them about Jesus. We have to tell them how He gave His life for us. Most important, we have to tell them that - above all - Jesus saves! But, more than tell them, we must show them! We must get their attention! We have to let them see that our commitment to Jesus Christ is real! They must see it in our talk and in our walk!

Stocker's Dracula is a work of fiction, but the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ is real! We must use our faith in His death, burial and resurrection to make the sinner understand. We must make them understand that just as Jesus Chris is real, and just as His way is the only way - so is their inevitable death real, if they “neglect so great a salvation,” (Hebrews 2:3).

I quote from a book on sermons by John G. Lake, “Let the throne life, and the throne love, and the throne power and the throne spirit and the Holy Ghost in heaven possess you and you will be a new man in Christ Jesus!” (2)

With this new life comes a new kind of hunger - a hunger for righteousness. Jesus tells us when this hunger occurs, the hungry one will most assuredly be blessed!

THE END

Note: Postscrips (1) and (2) are both quotes from Sermons by the late John G. Lake.

In his 1940 novel The Power and the Glory, Graham Greene portrays the life and struggle of a Catholic priest who is being persecuted for not forsaking his faith in the aftermath of the Mexican Revolution. The social and emotional hardships he has to endure are not only inflicted upon him externally, they also emerge from his own consciousness and his sense of moral. Issues like his alcoholism, his inability to leave the country and, thereby, protect his people from being treated as his collaborators and the fact that he has fathered a child constantly haunt him during his attempt to escape his conviction. Additionally, the nameless priest undergoes a serious crisis of faith as each of his actions marks another step closer to or away from Jesus' example of selflessness.

Throughout the novel, Greene makes extensive use of literary symbols and equips his characters, scenery and story line with certain aspects that hint on a deeper, yet cryptic meaning. The aim of this term paper is to give The Power and the Glory a close reading in regard to selected incidents of symbolism and to analyse the way Greene manages to entwine different layers of sociological, emotional, religious and political issues in a single plot through the application of allegory and symbols. Further, it will be focussed on the explanation and interpretation of his allusions and possible ways of relating them to the larger context of his novel. Finally, an identification of the characters' classical role allocations will be attempted with an emphasis on their particular purpose within the story and with paying attention to their embedding and relevance within the plot.

The Power and the Glory draws its narrative strength and literary depth from Greene's skill to build up a world filled with controversy that, nonetheless, in itself does not lack plausibility. Malamet calls it “a remarkable example of how the fundamental structural principle of the mystery story, that of deferral, can help to unfold the meaning of one of Greene's starkest theological dramas” (31), although the overall tension that his work evokes is not least based on a tightly woven network of symbols that can be traced throughout the novel. Thus, a critical analysis of his modus operandi concerning symbols and allegories appears promising.

Symbolism in Greene's Characters

One of the key factors that The Power and the Glory owes its vivid density to is the arrangement of the main and supportive characters, whose interactions and sentiments set the foundation on which the whole novel relies. The plot unfolds around a central protagonist, a Mexican priest who throughout the course of the story line remains nameless. The reader witnesses his torn personality as well as a process of constant motivational change that results either from his intervening consciousness or his encounter with various supportive characters. A striking feature of the characters in question is that each of them seems to typify one of the priest's emotional properties. Pattern explains:

[T]he people whom the priest meets are all symbolic of some aspect of the human condition: a trapped man (Mr. Tench), a criminal (the American gunman), purposefulness without purpose (the lieutenant), children who cannot be well understood (Brigida and Coral), a lapsed priest (Padre José), Judas (the mestizo), a beggar with inside information (nameless, but like the priest), a pious woman (likewise nameless, but art of his old self), lovers (his temptation) - in short,

[. . .] he travels an unknown way, continually meeting portions of his own character[. . .]. (321)

Apart from their collective existence in the priest, Greene's supportive characters hold further figurative value and attest an overwhelmingly complex character conception to the author.

2.1 The Priest

As the main protagonist of Greene's The Power and the Glory, the priest occupies a unique position within the plot's framework. Not only does his destiny set the readers' focus of attention, but he is also the character which unveils the most detailed insight into his personal sphere of emotions and, thus, becomes most approachable. This idea finds support in the assumption that he is far from being an ideal Roman Catholic priest who is by definition obliged to honour his vows given to his church and, thus, to completely submit to his god's commandments. On the contrary, the portrayal of the nameless priest as a simple human being, who is not immune to vice and sin rather than an example of moral values, crosses the gap between audience and lead character.

The concept of the sinful priest is elaborated on by minor transgressions which occur rather casually. When he is asked his name during the village raid he replies with the name of one of the hostages who was killed for harbouring the priest, Montez (cf. Greene 75). In itself, this already opposes God's commandment “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour” (The Holy Bible, 2Mo. 20.16), but it might also hint on an allusion within a larger context. The priest refrains from abandoning his alias on two further occasions, namely when being arrested (Greene 120) and when being questioned in jail (Greene 139). These three incidents of disowning himself can be interpreted as a reference to the biblical story of Jesus' last supper and the prediction he makes regarding his disciple Peter who is to deny his lord three times before the cock crow twice (cf. The Holy Bible, Mk. 14.30). The fact that the nameless priest does not reveal his real identity and rather negate his true name, while it is his own name he negates in contrast to Peter who negates his association with Christ (cf. The Holy Bible, Mk. 14.72), establishes a dualistic structure in the character of the priest. He is both at the very heart of his own faith as well as a traitor in respect of his religious sturdiness.

Other parallels between the priest and Christ can be detected in the motif of being chased, captured and finally executed by the regimes against whose ideological predominance the perseverance of either men stands. When the priest has finally decided that he's “had enough of escaping” (Greene 190), he leaves behind his former modes of action, which involved lies and disguises. He openly returns to the wounded American to aid him, knowing that this means “walk[ing] into [the] trap” (Greene 186) set up for him by the authorities and the mestizo. In conjunction with being betrayed by the half-caste it is striking that the priest “bore no grudge because he expected nothing else of anything human” (Greene 198). As Jesus does not condemn Judas, the nameless priest forgives his betrayer, although Jesus' motivation must be identified as love towards mankind (cf. The Holy Bible, Lu. 23.34) whereas the priest is simply disillusioned regarding human nature. As a result, certain aspects of the priest's personality first allude to Christ's ideals but are then unmasked as side effects of a misanthropic world view. His pessimistic approach is, nonetheless, shaken by the honest “love” (Greene 82) to his daughter and the sincere care he expresses for her mother. Their relationship remains distanced (cf. Greene 78-82) , though, and a close emotional connection to the two reminders of his failing as a Catholic priest cannot be established. A pattern that dominates the nameless priest's behaviour is a distinct tendency to fall into religious routines. He constantly urges himself to fill acquired religious concepts with feelings, which makes him confess his sins to himself relentlessly, yet mechanically (cf. Greene 207-210). Generally, his faith is often perverted by a shift to stiffened religious customs. Triggered by the respectful and uncloaked interest that the parishioners on the other side of the mountains bestow him, he suddenly is seized by an unintended vanity when “he could feel the old life hardening round him like a habit, a stony cast which held his head high and dictated the way he walked, and even formed his words” (Greene 187f). Combined with the manner in which the parishioners haggle for the prices of baptisms (cf. Greene 167, 170), this self-awareness possibly forced him to rethink his position and to finally return beyond the mountains when the half-caste again enters the scenery. However, it certainly puts his religious self-conception into perspective and makes him get closer to an inner stabilisation and to emotional settlement.

The most prevailing aspect of the priest's psyche is his personal conflict between responsibility and carelessness, which becomes observable in numerous situations. Not only is he an alcohol addict and, thus, often referred to as “a whisky priest” (Greene 60), and a self-proclaimed “coward” (Greene 49, 190) , but he also has a tendency to depressive notions and self-pity (cf. Greene 49, 141). Sudden onsets of spontaneous heroism (cf. Greene 77f) and his general awareness of the negative implications of his actions (cf. Greene 208), nonetheless, shine through the image of the failing priest and re-balance his portrayal. He is neither a typical literary role model, nor is he an average anti-hero. The nameless priest falls from one extreme into the other, which can be accredited to the extraordinary circumstances of his life. As a result, the main protagonist of the novel never ceases to surprise the reader and to highlight unexpected facets of the human character.

2.2 The Lieutenant

As a Mexican whose job and main aim it is to contribute to his people's safety and well-being, the lieutenant sees it as a duty of utmost importance to track down and capture any remaining active priest within his range (cf. Greene 25). The regime's argumentation has apparently influenced him in his personal opinion, which is rather opposed to engaging in any religious acts or commitments, as is depicted by the fact that “it infuriated him to think that there were still people in the state who believed in a loving and merciful God” (Greene 24). Though his personal structure of belief remains concealed, it is possible to assume that a belief in social revolution and the ideals of Marxism have taken on the role of religious eagerness in his motivational scheme. Under this perspective, his obedience to orders bears aspects of his people's obedience to God's commandments. This contrast also manifests itself in the lieutenant's disability to establish a bonding to his people (cf. Greene 220). His exterior position in the Mexican community lets him feel out of place and leads to the interdependent disconnection dominant in the relationship between self-proclaimed protector and unwillingly protected.

Curiously, the lieutenant, like the priest, remains nameless and anonymous throughout the entire story line, making his identity interchangeable. Greene presumably has equipped both roles with the quality of carrying historical relevance. It is thinkable that his conception of the priest and the lieutenant depict the two dominant, yet opposing, political and cultural positions that Greene witnessed during his stay in Mexico in 1938 (cf. Erzgräber 424). In addition, the lieutenant appears to have switched places with the priest in regard to ideological self-conception in relation to the individual profession. Pattern explicates:

The police lieutenant who successfully tracks down the priest may at first look like a perfect antithesis to the hunted man; he believes in the social revolution, he has a purely materialistic view of life, and he is fanatically anticlerical, but actually he, too, symbolises a side of the priest's character, and, fundamentally, the two men are more alike than different. Like the priest, the lieutenant has a vocation to which he has given his life. (312).

This thought is underlined by the fact that “there was something of a priest in his intent observant walk” (Greene 24).

In contrast to his socialist and anti-religious ideological credo, the lieutenant, in the end, seems to be impressed and affected by the priest's newly discovered dignity. This notion even makes him “[wait] till after dark and then” (Greene 202) go and see Padre José in order to bring him to the priest for his last confession (cf. Greene 203). When this request is rejected (cf. Greene 205), he returns to the moribund clergyman, disappointed for the sake of the nameless priest (cf. Greene 206f), yet content “with acid satisfaction” (Greene 204) that his prejudices concerning clerics have been confirmed. In total, the encounter with the man he has been hunting all along appears to have changed the lieutenant's opinion towards clergymen in general. The hint that, at this point, “he couldn't summon up any hate of the small hollow man” (Greene 207) any longer implies that the humane aura of the priest has convinced him that “he's not a bad man” (Greene 204) after all.

2.3 Padre José and Juan

Padre José is often referred to as “despicable” (Greene 27) and presented as the most negative role model within the novel. The reader learns that he has publicly forsaken his faith, taken a wife and come to terms with the regime's conditions as “a Government pensioner” (Greene 30). The negative image of Padre José hardens, when he refuses to grant the nameless priest his help. This particular scene involves an enormous amount of hate on the side of José as the reader learns that “he tried to gather up his venom into spittle and shot it feebly at the [nameless priest's] face” (Greene 118). José's overall status of failure is mirrored by the fact that “it didn't even reach, but fell impotently through the air” (Greene 118). This and other forms of impotence are attributed to Padre José manifold (cf. Greene 29).

It remains unclear whether he chose to obey the regime's demands out of fear and timidness, as is believed within his community (cf. Greene 27) or out of a more altruistic motivation, knowing that he can be of more use when he remains alive than when becoming just another martyr. This would imply that he puts the well-being of his fellow men before the salvation of his own soul, which could be signified by him stating that “he was more of a martyr than the rest” (Greene 27). As a result, José becomes the real martyr which is underlined by the idea of the townspeople's ignorance of his sacrifice and their mockery of his decision (cf. Greene 204f).

In direct contrast to José's public perception, Juan is depicted as “a true young Mexican boy” (Greene 26) and an ideal of humble faithfulness and piety. His life's story is presented as that of a true martyr's and his deeds are told in a tone of praise and adoration. As the hero of religious stories that a mother repeatedly reads to her children, Juan occupies a central position in the community's constancy (cf. Greene 26ff), almost making him a tool of religious propaganda, as the books containing his stories “were smuggled in every month from Mexico City” (Greene 26). One of the anecdotes of his life can even be interpreted as a satirical criticism of the political situation, as Juan “was chosen to play the part of Nero” (Greene 26) in “a little play before the bishop” (Greene 26), whereas his “young manhood was to be cut short by a ruler far worse than Nero” (Greene 26).

Together with the nameless priest, Padre José and Juan form a triangle of different approaches to religious life. José, at least for the people in his vicinity, stands for abandoning values for personal protection, the nameless priest is constantly transcending the lines of selfishness and responsibility, while Juan is the archetypical Christian. This structure can be interpreted as an allusion to the image of God's trinity in Roman Catholic religious contexts: three individual aspects or entities of the deity are joined into one larger concept. Likewise, the three cleric characters seem to form a more comprehensive union, a combined figure that comprises multiple approaches to individual faith and different perceptions of personal ethics.

2.4 Mothers and their Children

One of the most basic elements of a classical family image is the central unity of mother and child. Multiple constellations of this relationship and of the relationships that surround this bond are embedded in The Power and the Glory. Trixy Fellows and her daughter Coral lead a rather desolate and lonely life at the local plant of the “Central American Banana Company” (Greene 31). While Trixy is afraid of “death coming nearer every year in the strange place” (Greene 33), her daughter has developed a morbid form of self-reliance which is summed up by stating that “she was prepared” (Greene 34) which can be seen to refer to much more than just communication. This wisdom is mirrored as “maturity” (Greene 81) in the priest's daughter Brigitta. Both she and her mother Maria treat the nameless priest with hostility. Maria accuses him of endangering Mexican communities wherever he goes and she tells him that he is “no good any more to anyone” (Greene 78). Brigitta, on the other hand feels that her father is useless and a disgrace because “everyone else has a father . . . who works” (Greene 81). A third party is introduced by the mother who reads her children the story of Juan. The mother, though very pious (cf. Greene 26ff), is still extremely unforgiving regarding “traitor[s] to God” (Greene 27), by which she refers to Padre José. Moreover, she utters that she was “so worried about the boy” (Greene 27) while the two girls “are two little saints already” (Greene 27). The boy, however, has a fatalistic interest in death and weapons (cf. Greene 218f) which does not stop him from obeying the rules of the Roman Catholic church, which becomes apparent when he kisses the hand of the unknown priest (cf. Greene 222). Finally, there is the tragic mother and child relationship between the Indian mother and her shot boy. Although her son is killed, the mother insists on taking him to a plateau with “a grove of crosses” (Greene 154) in order to set him to rest there under the symbolic protection of God. The Indian woman alludes to a simple, basic, yet indestructible “faith in the spittle that healed the blind man and the voice that raised the dead” (Greene 155).

Within these relationships, another case of triangular structure can be made out as Coral, Brigitta and the nameless priest all feel rejected by a father figure in their lives. Coral cannot relate to her father in a loving manner (cf. Greene 33f), Brigitta even accuses her father of being useless (cf. Greene 81) and, ultimately, the nameless clergyman feels the absence of his heavenly father (cf. Greene 151). Concluding, it can be derived that neither wisdom, as presented in Coral, nor knowledge of life, as attributed to Brigitta, nor sturdiness, as it is visible in the priest, will provide shelter from feeling abandoned and lost, once this feeling has found a way to establish itself in a person.

2.5 Mr. Tench and the Gringo

Two of the supporting characters whose existence is solely entering the readers' awareness in short episodic encounters are Mr. Tench and the American gunman. As the glances into Mr. Tench's life enclose the story line's beginning (cf. Greene 7-19) and ending (cf. Greene 214-217), the gringo is mentioned continuously and finally introduced in person at the novel's dramatic peak (cf. Greene 187).

In association with Mr. Tench, quite a number of symbolic references are alluded to. As a dentist, he is concerned with the physical condition of the public and, thus, their sanitary well-being. He is professionally related to one of the half-caste's most protruding properties, dental decay. Bearing in mind the option of physical decay being allegoric of social decay, Tench's intention may well be to stop or even reverse the ongoing ruin of the Mexican country. This image finds support in the persistence with which he waits for his “ether cylinder” (Greene 7), a possible relief from the pain of dental operations and symbolic of the general relief from the sufferings the oppressed Mexican people has to endure. Certain facets of his depiction are shared by that of the nameless priest. Tench, for once, sees himself as abandoned by God (cf. Greene 10), causing him to experience the feeling of being trapped in the darkness of divine absence, a sentiment the clergyman also has to sustain. Tench's drinking and the priest's alcoholism make them fellow sufferers. What's more, both allusions to drinking, drug addiction and the resulting numbness are expanded to their professional lives, as symbolised by the ether cylinder and altar wine (cf. Greene 78). Figuratively, the clergyman even tranquillises and calms people by providing religious guidance, absolution and peace of mind.

The American gunman can be traced as a mere aim of various references along the story line. It is only in the moment of the priest's change of attitude that he enters the scenery in person. The fate of the two men are intertwined as symbolised by their two photographs being pinned up next to each other (cf. Greene 121) and as later becomes noticeable when the priest returns to the dying gringo (cf. Greene 187). A uniting factor in both men is the disregard for other people when it comes to decide about what measures to take in different situations. Neither man is willing to give up easily, the American struggles with his last breath to reach for his knife (cf. Greene 189) whereas the priest is a fugitive that is very hard to catch for Mexican authorities. Their endurance even results in their passing away without having been absolved (cf. Greene 189f, 205), which consequently, for a Christian, means the arrival before God without being cleansed of sins. At least is this fate brought upon the priest and the gringo due to their last attempts to help another man, be it the gunman's try to hand his knife to the priest for self protection or the clergyman's effort to save the criminal's soul from damnation.

Once more, a triangular structure emerges between three of The Power and the Glory's characters. The figures of Mr. Tench, the gringo and the priest share a general dream of escaping their lives' misery, be it caused by political, religious or social problems. In spite of their issues with the particular situations they are trapped in, they all still uphold a hopeless tenacity in clinging to life. Also, all three men are united in loneliness and desolation.

2.6 The Mestizo

The man who finally delivers the priest to his persecutors is referred to in The Power and the Glory alternatively as “the mestizo” (Greene 181), “the half-caste” (Greene 182) or even “Judas” (Greene 99). Still, all these denotations imply a racial or ethical mixture of incompatible pre-sets. As a mestizo is usually the offspring and genetic combination of Spanish and Mexican parents, the term half-caste also alludes to the lack of a cultural identity and to the feeling of being lost between two different cultures. The name Judas, thus, points at the duality in moral values. Connoted with Judas Iscariot is his relationship with Jesus Christ. As one of Jesus' disciples, Judas first accepts Christ as his lord, but betrays him afterwards (cf. The Holy Bible, Lk. 22.48), dooming him to a horrible death. Shocked of his own deed, Judas, in complete desperation, commits suicide (cf. The Holy Bible, Mt. 27.5). This final sin against God's commandments will result in eternal damnation for his soul, a fact of which Judas was certainly aware. The idea of opposing moral values is mirrored in the mestizo's claim that he is “a good Christian” (Greene 90) while he seeks to lure the priest into a trap. Like Judas, the half-caste becomes the bane of his own faith's impersonation and, thus, knowingly condemns himself to perdition under the rules of his religion. The request for the priest's blessing (cf. Greene 197) forms a parallel to Judas' remorse and his wish to clear his conscience (cf. The Holy Bible, Mt. 27.3+4) which for him cannot be achieved. Unable to live with the guilt of having assisted in his lord's execution, Judas only sees the option of killing himself, whereas the mestizo counts on the power of a blessing to rid himself of his sin. This concept of faith is rebuked by the priest who explains that he cannot cheat God and that no matter how much he denies his betrayal, it will not be undone by disclaiming it to yourself, God or anyone else (cf. Greene 197). Here, the half-caste's understanding seems to fail. The decision to turn the priest in to the authorities with all the consequences that are to result from it creates a parallel between the mestizo and his victim. The obvious deceit of the nameless priest finds its counterpart in his determination to temporarily forsake his child, though involuntarily it may be conducted. A diverse stance in coping with the moral implications persists, though. The priest is well aware of the hardship he inflicts upon his child (cf. Greene 132), whereas the half-caste is of total ignorance concerning this issue. Ultimately, although there is evidently a basic factual knowledge and faith in Catholic belief, the mestizo's selfish and egocentric attitude marks him as an opportunist and a hypocrite.

Concerning his physical appearance, it is remarkable that his teeth are referred to as “canines” (Greene 84), reminding the reader of the mongrel with the broken back that roams the banana station which the priest uses as a shelter after his release from prison (cf. Greene 140). This comparison can be expanded by both creatures being in a desolate physical condition and of mixed origin, as signified in the denotations used for reference within the novel (half-caste, mestizo, mongrel). Animal connotations and the primal urge of feeding are introduced into the context of the mestizo's character, his need to earn a living in order to survive is expressed through the hunt for his prey. The predominant colour in correlation with the half-caste is “yellow” (Greene 86), the colour that usually is a synonym of fear and dread. This fear might be of repressions from the regime or of fear of survival due to extreme poverty, however, the nameless priest is well aware of the calamitousness his people has to endure. This can be seen as one of the reasons for his understanding of the impending betrayal.

In the end, the half-caste depicts an evil and early foreboding of the disastrous end the priest and the story as a whole are heading to. This evil contains a definite necessity, for it is the driving force behind the clergyman's emergence as the martyr he was set up to become. Like the vultures, the continuous appearance of the mestizo overshadows the protagonist's path and he is established as a constant reminder of a morbid fugacity.

4 Conclusion

The Power and the Glory, which is, according to Woodman, mainly concerned with “the tremendous spiritual drama of salvation or damnation in Catholicism” (140) presents the full scape of Greene's ability and skill to develop a multi-level story line and a plot that, though complex and extensive, never shows a hint of dubiety. Throughout the novel, the reader is bound to experience an atmosphere of suppression and persecution while the protagonist and his supportive characters are engaged in their lives of longing and desolation, hunting and being hunted, love and indifference. Whole new aspects of faith and religion are highlighted and common conventions regarding character development are overturned for the sake of his characters' uniqueness.

Greene's use of symbols and allegories in The Power and the Glory must be deemed an extraordinary literary achievement both for its subtlety and for the effectiveness of his images. The analysis of some of his instances of symbolism has clearly shown that under the obvious surface of character depiction, there is an entire network of correlations and interdependences that contributes to the epic extent of his work. The idea of creating a set of very diverse and individual protagonists, though difficult it may be to implement their particular modes of action, has successfully formed the structural basis for a compelling and thrilling novel. Moreover, designing the characters in the fashion of a radial shape with the nameless priest at the very centre and his supportive characters as the corresponding spokes of the wheel presents Greene as an expert in evaluating social relationships in regard to their potential value for a plot.

The numerous layers of thinkable allusions between the different figures of The Power and the Glory and the fact that Greene enhances these underlying foundations of his work with additional symbols in environment or setting give an even more elaborate facet to his novel. Without question, his writing, especially in The Power and the Glory, has, not least through the application of said symbols, transcended the boundaries of average plot lines and established a new understanding for interdependent character preconditions and developments.

In early December of 1863 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow penned these words which are familiar to many of us. The song was performed that year and possibly for several others and then lay somewhat dormant and unperformed till a new tune was affixed to it in the 1950’s. I am not sure the original tune has survived but with the new tune it became well known. Two verses fell into disuse. I'll mention them later.

"I heard the bells on Christmas day...
And in despair I bowed my head, there is no peace on earth I said,
For hate is strong and mocks the song of peace on earth good will to men..."

This was a reflection of Longfellow's time. Let us stand briefly on that spot on of the timeline with him and see the world as he saw it. His wife had recently died. His son was wounded in battle and in a hospital. A war raged in his country. Were we with him a hundred and forty three years ago what would we have seen?

The sixty thousand casualties of the Battle of Gettysburg were vivid memories of the previous summer. Men were dying daily on battlefields on our own soil. The War of the Rebellion was now more than two years old and no end was in sight. Men and women were still chained in slavery because of their color. Hatred between brothers had reached a zenith. These were probably the darkest days of The War of The Rebellion – recently known as the Civil War.

We see that war so vividly through his eyes in the almost unknown fourth and fifth verses.

"From each black accursed mouth,
the cannon thundered in the South.
And with the sound the carols drowned,
of peace on earth good will to men."

It was as if an earthquake rent The hearth-stones of a continent, And made forlorn The households born Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

As if the 60,000 casualties in Gettysburg in early July were not enough November brought over 12,000 more near Chattanooga, Tennessee at Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge. Other "minor skirmishes" contributed tens of thousands more. With the carnage could we fault Longfellow for being discouraged? "And with the sound the carols drowned." Knowing what we do now had he stopped writing at the end of those verses could we have criticized him? Were we writing this poem could we end with a like verse today? Could we be criticized today if we too loose heart? With hatred, strife, mall shootings, school shootings, church shootings, what do we think? But to do so we must forget Christ and His life on this earth. What if we were in Bethlehem 2000 years ago? Let’s move to that point on the time line. What would we have seen?

He came into a world that was full of hate and strife. Roman legions occupied Jerusalem and ruled it with an iron fist. Religious sects argued continually the insignificant points of the law. Dishonest tax collectors extracted excessive tribute from the poor. Thieves and robbers waylaid people on the roads. Executions and imprisonment for minor crimes and at rulers’ whims were common.

Many who were there in 4 AD did not see the babe in the manger because of the noise around them. Others did not see Jesus because of the blindness of their religion. But let’s be careful in blaming them. If we were there, would we have seen Him? That thought is humbling to me.

It would be easy to look at the world around us today and be discouraged. With the corruption in our government, dishonesty in business, the decline of morals, fallen church leaders, abuse by the clergy, hatred, malice, strife in our land, terrorism, war, economic instability, it is easy to see nothing but the darkness. The hatred today has certainly tried to drown the carols. Hatred for our president has hit a zenith. Hated for Christians by other Americans has never been this high. There has been no time since 1863 that one group of Americans has hated another group of Americans so much. Places of worship are under fire both verbally and with firearms. Businesses are caught in a crossfire from Christians and non-Christians and sometimes in gunfire. Churches are burned because they are places people of different creed or color worship. Men and women are killed for a pittance or because of hate. A man's word and a handshake is no longer a bond. They have been depreciated to a formality. A sworn statement that is a lie is not important even by corporate heads or government leaders. Contracts are documents to be torn up or ignored. Killing can be justified in the name of any God and even by some of those who call themselves Christians.

And we too could easily say today... "For hate is strong and mocks the song of peace on earth good will to men..." I must admit I too have fallen here at times and turned to wringing my hands. May God forgive me for my lack of vision! May he daily open my eyes to His power and goodness. When I am like the young man who stood by the prophet and saw the hosts of the enemy around him let me see the hosts of the Army of the Lord who are more than those who are arrayed against me. The 400,000 of the ACLU should not be important when there are 12 legions of angels at our disposal. The ACLU and its fellows are as insignificant as a hand grenade against a nuclear weapon.

This babe who was born in a stall 2000 years ago grew to manhood. He taught a law of love, a law that many have followed down through the years, even if imperfectly. And he gave his life for all of us that we may have power over sin. We only need to accept that sacrifice. He set a high standard and His death and resurrection gives us the power to press toward that same mark. From my vantage point those who even make a halting attempt to follow Him benefit their fellow man. Thank God that in this time of trial Longfellow could somehow look through the veil of the smoke of the rifle and cannon, hear above the noise of the battle and the voices of hatred the more profound truth of God's word and penned it in the sixth and final verse.

"Then pealed the bells more loud and deep; God is not dead nor does he sleep, The wrong shall fail, the right prevail, Of peace on earth good will to men."

God is alive, He is awake. Many thought God didn't care. Many thought the War of the Rebellion was the beginning of Armageddon. Many thought time was about to end. Longfellow saw the future, possibly as Paul wrote, through a glass darkly, but I am sure he saw it. “The wrong shall fail, the right prevail.” He lived to see slavery legally repealed. He lived to see the war end. And in 1863 with nothing but God's word to refute what his eyes saw so vividly he penned that verse in faith, "The substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen."

What about us? Many today see the same picture those in 1863 saw. And if we look past the sin in our world we will see with Abe Lincoln that there is a great task remaining before us. It is to tell the story of Jesus, the great commission. It is to as Peter, Paul and Mary sang, to ring out the love between our brothers and sisters, the great commandment. It is what we are called to do as believers. I call it GC*2. Martin Luther King had a dream where he saw blacks and whites walking together. Let me ask this. Is our vision clouded by evil today that we cannot see the truths that these and many others have seen? Two of my favorite passages are from Lincoln's Gettysburg address. "It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated to the great task remaining before us... " and from I John 4:7 "Let us love one another."

Only with His help can we take on that unfinished task. Only with His help can we truly love one another. And only if we do can Peace on Earth come to our hearts and to men of good will everywhere. Only then can we push back the darkness of hatred and see the plan that the Father and Son knew from the foundation of the world come to pass.

"Christmas Bells" (The original poem, complete with all seven stanzas) Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 1863..

"I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!


And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!


Till, ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!


Then from each black accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!


It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!


And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is no peace on earth," I said;
"For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"


Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!"