Christendom (n.) is a signpost: seeing at the start of a journey that this road leads to your destination does not mean you have arrived.
Christendom (n.) confuses both loves: poets relax passion into loving many times, Christians relax eternity into thinking that loving a great deal is Christian love — and what results is neither.
Christendom (n.) contains no “world” at all if every baptized man is a Christian — as proved by the lists of the sexton and the police superintendent.
Christendom (n.) is, in its secular form, always dead against: where Christianity wants inwardness it wants the external, and where Christianity wants the external, it wants inwardness.
Christendom (n.) made Christian by removing the offense is now offended at the real Christian — not enough to kill him, only to mock him: worse confusion than the first persecutions, which at least had meaning.
Christendom (n.) is so far behind that one must begin with paganism: begin straight with orthodoxy and people say "that isn't for us" and go on the defensive.
Christendom (n.) has its own heathen, sunk deeper than those abroad: these were never lifted up, those were lifted and fell again, further.
Christendom (n.) is mocked most briefly by quoting Peter to its worldly Christians: "Behold, we have forsaken all and followed thee." It fits them perfectly.
Christendom (n.) makes the preacher cry like a navigator in a starless storm, "Great God, where are we?": so many baptized, confirmed, as many Christians as inhabitants, and what does that settle?
Christendom (n.) makes it far easier to become a Christian, or at any rate far easier to fool oneself into living one's whole life in that conceit.
Christendom (n.) makes the believer more a stranger than he would be among heathen: another people's indifference to a faith not theirs is natural, but those who claim the same faith being indifferent to it is strange.
Christendom (n.) is a monstrous illusion: the belief that in a land like ours everyone is, of course, a Christian of a sort.
Christendom (n.) is where even those who say there is no God are Christians — recognized by the State, buried by the Church, certified for eternity.
Christendom (n.) turns becoming a Christian into a problem of reflection: how to become one when one is already a Christian of a sort.
Christendom (n.) established is a caricature of true Christianity: masses of misunderstanding and illusion mixed with a sparing little dose of the real thing.
Christendom (n.) commits its original sin by slowly trying to trick God out of his rights as owner of Christianity, as if the human race had invented it.