Harrison Court
Boston University
Boston, Massachusetts
February 3, 1918
Lt. Edwin Paul Dudley
26th Engineering Division
United States Army
Verdun, France
Dear Eddie:
As I sit by my residence house window this morning, I wept as I read your letter of Christmas Day. As the sun breaks across North Boston, it is so quiet. I can only imagine the horror and destruction you are witnessing in Verdun. I grieve that you are fighting for my liberty while I celebrate my 28th birthday engrossed in the archaic language of theology. The deferral allowing me to stay in college now seems like weak excuse. I have such remorse to be in the States while your every move places you in harm’s way.
I thank you for your courage and I love you for the patriot you are.
Our days together at Trinity United Methodist Church in Fort Madison were the best years of my life. We had no cares excepts the farm chores. Dad said that we would never grow up to be anything special when we acted so irresponsibly in town. You dreamed of driving trains like your dad; I dreamed of becoming a lawyer like Clarence Darrow. We never needed a wristwatch because the trains were so consistent in their daily runs.
Where did our dreams go? You spent a decade with the Santa Fe Railroad before you left for war. I got your letter before they shipped you out from Hoboken last fall. You could have knocked me over with a feather. I thought you were safe out in Colorado. Now you assemble rails for Uncle Sam to keep his troops moving. It does not seem possible that time has passed so quickly. We grew up in an era of peace; it seemed it would never end.
Eddie, when I finished at Iowa Wesleyan (IW) and married Edna Ruth, in 1912, I still planned to go into law. It was the youngsters I served in the Mount Pleasant Methodist church who stirred up my call to seminary. I believe God’s call for me is as a religious educator. Edna Ruth grew up in Cheshire County, New Hampshire and wanted to be close to her parents. I finished my seminary degree last year at the Boston University School of Theology but have stayed on as a graduate assistant. We live in campus housing and I serve a church in Newburyport, Mass. It is a gracious congregation who love the Lord and serve faithfully.
Your letters weave an upbeat tale of a macabre adventure in the European war. I do not believe I remember you ever being discouraged. Still, I sense from your letters how you grieve for the thousands of individuals you help transport into war on the rail lines you build and the dying soldiers you transport back. It seems that all the Boston Globe reports are the missteps of General Petain and the death of Teddy Roosevelt’s son Quenten. However, these events bring the reality of war to folks on the home front.
In the midst of injuries and death from mustard gas, you must ask: Where is God in all this? Why are the finest young persons in the world suffering in the cold, French winters eating horsemeat and black bread? Why do people of faith attempt to settle their disagreements in battle? How can I find serenity in the midst of world disorder?
Edna has been using the language skills she obtained at I.W. translating copies of Le Monde for editors at the Globe. They write about events of the war. Lately, she has been bringing home some extra money, working for an undergraduate B.U. religion professor. She is translating some war dairies written by a Jesuit priest serving in French Army near you in Coblenz. His name is Teilhard de Chardin. (I believe his first name is Pierre and his last name is Teilhard. He is from Chardin.)
I am not sure why a young Jesuit priest stirs my Wesleyan senses so much. In the midst of the gruesome news in the Globe and New York Times, I believe it is his cosmic sense of connection to God in all the disorderliness of war. Teilhard writes from the trenches of war:
“Just as, when I turn my mind and reason to things that lie outside of me, I have no right to disassociate myself from their destiny, so I cannot, in my personal being, escape from the divine, whose dominating power I can see growing ever more supreme wherever I look…I cannot, Lord, evade such massive power I can only yield to it in a blissful surrender.”
The gift Teilhard possesses is the serenity of God disclosed through Jesus Christ, the mediator. This peace that transcends the horror of the battlefield that may be useful for you. The discipline of transcending beyond the war gives you the ability to set your circumstances aside to focus on a loving God. While the world around us is chaotic, we can find serenity in God. The world cannot change but we can, Eddie.
You and I debated how Christ fit into our theocentric world. We believed that others, good people who influenced our lives, could be saved without looking to Christ. Perhaps they can. God is sovereign and can act far beyond the arena in which we have knowledge. We do know from Scripture that we can come to God, one way, through Christ. Only a sovereign God knows if another path exists.
The faith we have is to find God through Christ. Teilhard said he could not think of a single “diaphany” that caused him to be reborn in Christ. Of course he was a priest so he must have had some call to religious belief. Yet, he writes in his dairies of a mystical experience he had of an image or likeness (Edna Ruth had difficulty making a precise translation) of Christ offering his heart on the wall of a church where he had gone to pray. Even the fuzzy drawing of the face of Jesus Christ that hung on Miss Muncey’s wall at Trinity church can guide, and perhaps sustain, our faith. Sustaining your faith in God, day to day, will allow you to get through the war. Then from a distance of time and space, we can make sense of these struggles.
We know the word of God through the face of Christ. In the Epistles, Paul said: “For God who said, ‘Let there be light in the darkness,’ has made us understand that it is the brightness of his glory that is seen in the face of Jesus Christ.” (2 Cor 4:6, KJV) Scholars are perplexed about where those exact words appear in the Hebrew Bible. Was Paul thinking of Genesis 1:3 (“…Let there be light”) or Psalms 112:4 (“Unto the upright there ariseth light in the darkness…”) or the prophesy of Isaiah 9:2 (“The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: they dwell in the land of the shadow of death upon them hath the light shined.”)?
You can be confident that those things disclosed to human beings about God come from the transformation of Christ. Eddie, I think you like to call it morphology but that is not a very reverential term for our Lord and Savior! Teilhard uses the term “Christic.” In the midst of the battlefields of France, God Almighty shapes human affairs and the incarnate Word is personified through Jesus Christ. Will you indulge me so I can impress you with my new knowledge of Greek. We need no noetic (noetikos) enlightenment. God speaks equally to me with my book learning as to you with your knowledge of the real world helping to build a railroad.
Eddie, you and I can have diaphanous moments. Can you recall the wonderful hymns we sang in Trinity church. I cannot send you music. I hope, through your mind’s ear, you will be able to hear the remarkable praises to God that Charles Wesley wrote.
Oh for a thousand tongues to sing
my great Redeemer’s praise,
the glories of my God and King
the triumphs of his grace.
My gracious Master and my God
assist me to proclaim
to spread through all the earth abroad
the honors of thy name.
Jesus! The name that charms our fears
that bids our sorrow cease;
‘tis music in the sinner’s ears,
‘tis life and health, and peace.
He breaks the power of cancelled sin,
he sets the prisoners free;
his blood can make the foulest clean;
his blood availed for me.
He speaks, and listening to his voice,
new life the dead receive;
the mournful, broken hearts rejoice,
the humble poor believe.
In Christ, your head, you then shall know,
shall feel your sins forgiven,
anticipate your heaven below,In Christ, your head, you then shall know,
shall feel your sins forgiven,
anticipate your heaven below,
and own that love in heaven.
My great and distant friend, how I long to reach out and touch you with a word of encouragement as you carry out your noble tasks. You have always had a passion for life. It is that human trait John and Charles Wesley called zeal. Teilhard calls it zeste. “This is one more proof that truth has appeared only once, in one single mind, for it to be impossible for anything ever to prevent it from spreading universally and setting everything ablaze.” (Teilhard)
Edna Ruth and I pray for you daily. We pray for your safety. We pray for your mission to help the European people to be free. We pray for an outpouring of God’s grace in your life.
Unequivocally,
Ed Bartlett
The soldier, Edwin Paul Dudley, was my grandfather. Edward Randolph Bartlett was his best friend from their childhood in Fort Madison, Iowa. Gramps spent nearly five decades with the Santa Fe Railroad and retired in a senior management position in 1956. In retirement, he typed a 300 page autobiography for each of his three grandsons. Much of the background material was gleaned from that unpublished book. Edward Bartlett received a D.D. from the University of Chicago (1933) and a Ph.D. from Northwestern University (1936). He was an ordained minister in the United Methodist Church. He was a professor of Old Testament and religious education (1924-1947) and dean (1941-47) at DePauw University in Greencastle, Indiana. From 1947 until his death in 1952, Dr. Bartlett was president of Iliff Theological Seminary in Denver, Colorado. Gramps was a pallbearer at his funeral.