Word: churched
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...years Bishop Rowe visited the U. S. only ten times, to lecture and raise money. Four times he refused bishoprics in the States. Never a great missionary church, the Episcopal Church kept Alaska on meagre rations. The Presbyterians and Roman Catholics kept larger staffs in the territory. But although Alaska's baptized Episcopalians number only 6,360, Bishop Rowe could say that his church has "a prestige among the people of Alaska which is not enjoyed by the other communions." He plans to return to Alaska in January, to be among the Indians whose faith he admires. They will...
...county declamation contest. Schoolmarm Campbell was there, too. So was laughing-eyed little Irene Leonard. Irene, 7, stepped up and recited a story, entitled "Paddy's Pets," about a little girl whose pet dog and cat jumped out of her father's overcoat pockets in church. When her pupil was declared winner of the contest, Miss Campbell permitted herself a proud smile...
When Bishop Rowe went there in 1895, the Episcopal Church had three missions in its Alaska diocese (586,400 square miles). To reach them, he had to mush with a dog sled. From Indian and Eskimo companions, the Bishop learned to keep his socks dry at 78 below zero. He learned the knack of building a fire in a howling gale, learned to pick off wolves outside the camp circle with a rifle. Bishop Rowe mushed 2,000 miles each winter-in sum, he said, more than any other man in Alaska...
...Charles Edward Coughlin. It is also the name of a loose federation of anti-Semitic societies, with an estimated 100,000 members. Some of these Christians (like the German-American Bund, the Christian Mobilizers), have actually been tut-tutted by Father Coughlin.* Last week the Brooklyn Church and Mission Federation, representing nearly all the Protestants in that strongly Coughlinite borough, sounded off against the Christian Front in no tut-tutting terms...
...Sawdust Caesar, Author George Seldes stuck out his tongue at Benito Mussolini. In Lords of the Press, he thumbed his nose at U. S. journalism. Last week, in The Catholic Crisis (Messner, $3), Author Seldes uttered some hoarse Bronx cheers at the Roman Catholic Church. His thesis is that the Church has dallied too long with Fascism, and his book suggests that his way of fixing things would be to have someone like Oswald Garrison Villard for Pope. He devotes more than 300 pages to accusing Catholic churchmen and laymen of all manner of misdeeds-pressure against the press...