SERMONS 

A Score and More of Unitarian Universalism

I found a fascinating statistic while checking out some of General Assembly on the web, as recommended by Anna Belle in last week’s GA Sunday. It was from a workshop led by Unitarian Universalist Communications Director, Deb Weiner. She offered this multiple choice question (please don’t give it away if you were there or have read it yourself). How often does the average Unitarian Universalist invite a friend to church? You have four choices. A) Once every three years; B) once every ten years; C) once every twenty-seven years; or D) once every six months.

The answer is: once every twenty-seven years. This may seem like pretty bad news for us, but when I read it to my husband John, he noted that at least our 25 year members are coming up on the time when they will invite someone! That’s John for you—always looking on the bright side of things! As I reported in the newsletter, I am right at twenty years as a Unitarian Universalist myself, so I have a ways to go before I have to invite anyone.

Actually it is not uncommon for me to invite people. In fact I did it this week with someone who knocked on my door. She wasn’t a religious knocker. My neighborhood is apparently being targeted by some liberal political groups. It was the second liberal knock we’ve gotten this summer. This one for environmental causes, the first one for gay and lesbian rights. After hearing her spiel, I asked if she attended church. Oh, don’t worry, I made it clear that it was okay with me that she didn’t. But I did tell her about us. Because of some of the things she said, I just thought she might be interested. Her eyes glazed over pretty fast—so I only hit the high points. I’ve had better experiences inviting people than that. Most people are interested and appreciative and do not come. Some, though, do come and find the home they’ve been looking for. I encourage you to try it before we recognize you as a twenty-five year member.

One of the hesitations I’ve heard from people who are reluctant to tell friends about Unitarian Universalism is that they aren’t quite sure how to say what we are. I really don’t believe the problem is that our approach is so complex so much as that our approach is so different from most approaches to religious community. We don’t have a formula. We use different language to speak about what we consider holy or precious. This morning I want to offer one possibility for answering the question of who we are—for a friend who might be interested, or simply for yourself.

The first thing I would say is share with them what you consider holy or precious. Is it God? Or Love? Or creation? Or Life itself? Do you call upon the Goddess? Or laws of the universe? Or Chi, perhaps? If you’re not sure, tell them that. And then you might try on some of the names for that which transcends. Next, try sharing how you strive to respond to this ultimate value you hold. Do you seek the goodness in others as a way to acknowledge the divinity within all? Do you pray in an effort to understand more fully your work in the world? Do you attempt to surrender so that chi may flow freely? Do you struggle against racism, poverty, violence, or other injustices because of your understanding of the Goddess? Do you work to make the world better because of your humanism? This is a discussion worth having. Try it out on someone here, if you’d like. Try it out on me; in fact, I’d love to hear it.

The next step, I would suggest, to talking with someone new to our faith, would be to tell them that while your conscience and experience have led you to these individual beliefs, you come to services with people who believe differently from you. And instead of this diversity of belief making us nervous—we love it! And then they will say, “but what holds you together as a community?” This is the critical moment in the conversation. One way I talk about this is to say that what holds us together is process not content. Content is, of course, very important. But it is not what keeps us together in community. That’s another way of saying we organize around a covenant, not a creed. We do not commit to each other that we will believe certain things. Instead, we make promises to each other about how we will be together. Here’s my list for this morning: What holds us together is our commitment to each other to be together freely, compassionately, responsibly, joyously, hopefully.

Put another way, Unitarian Universalism offers a safe place to search for meaning, a caring place to heal, a challenging place to grow, a joyous place to celebrate life, and a hopeful place which inspires us to make the world more just. Safety, compassion, challenge, joy, and hope are vital to the realization of our liberal religion.

Safety relates to freedom. We do not believe that it is appropriate to compel anyone to hold beliefs that are not true for them. In fact we believe individuals should have the freedom to be exactly who they are, within the limits of a responsible community. A safe community is a place where people will not be ridiculed for their beliefs, where free expression is appreciated, and where individuals are free from physical, emotional, and spiritual abuse by another person. Safety makes integrity possible.

In our congregation this is treasured. I learned from the group of 25 year members I had lunch with this week how refreshing and welcome this safety was to them when they found this community. They spoke of the radical acceptance they found. All eight of the folks I met with were actively involved in the singles group in those years. They described it as a group that was known around town for its acceptance of a wide variety of folks. Different ages, beliefs, and lifestyles were embraced. Safety is a complex thing, though, and while freedom of belief and lifestyle were protected with vigilance, this freedom sometimes actually got in the way of safety and integrity by allowing the violation of the freedom of some. I am struck by what is perhaps a trivial example of this. But it is a picture that sticks in my mind. In those years, the mid to late seventies, people were allowed to smoke during services. Smokers sat up in the social area. It’s my guess that any suggestion about limiting this freedom would have been considered blasphemy.

It was a period when individual freedom took precedence. It was also a period when personal boundaries were pretty blurry. The 25 year members remembered many divorces. No one in the group celebrated this. This congregation had to struggle hard to understand the importance of boundaries. We have also had to come to terms with boundary violations of a previous minister. We have had to learn to partner responsibility with freedom in order to ensure safety for all.

Balancing safety as a value is compassion. We come together as broken people, we do not live up to our own highest ideals. We are damaged by disappointments and ravaged by grief. By practicing compassion we make human relationship possible. Through compassion we offer comfort to one another in difficult times. It is compassion that makes it possible for us to accept one another in our imperfections.

Challenge is critically important to our individualistic approach to religion as well. While individual conscience is our highest authority in religious matters, we come together, in part, because it is not enough, and we value the reflections of others. We are challenged, directly and indirectly, when our values become self-serving, or our lives are not consistent with our values. This community and our companions within it help us test our conscience.

And then there is joy. I couldn’t bear any of it without joy. Life is a beautiful, precious gift. Even in the midst of loss and suffering, we find love and truth and beauty. It would be the greatest sin, I believe, to receive these gifts without joy and gratitude. Together, in community, we celebrate life. We do it in our worship, with song and silence; we do it when we go on a retreat together; we do it when we pick up trash along the road or collect supplies for refugees together.

We could really learn something from our twenty-five year members, though. If there is one remarkable thing I heard from them, it is how much fun they had together. Sitting around the table in the fireside room they tripped over each other to tell stories of remembered joy. From washing the windows—and someone moving a ladder with people on it (though I didn’t quite catch that); to playing on the church volleyball team; to cooking for the canvass dinners; to just plain parties (lots of them). (We do not need to discuss the details of those parties, it was a different time.) I was struck by how much joy they obviously found in being together.

Finally hope keeps us together. It gives us strength and courage to break out of our sometimes cynical resignation and get out there and do something. Remembering we can make a difference. One of the gifts of community is the history of individuals who have acted with courage and themselves made a difference. They keep us honest. They take our hands and lift us out of resignation into action. Our faith depends on this. Values and commitments mean little if we are not willing and able to practice them. We don’t have to fix the world. But we must do something. Something that reflects our beliefs. In this community we sometimes do these things together and sometimes act on our own for what we believe in. Hopefully we have the opportunity to do a little of both. And in our turn, we offer hope to those who come after us.

Okay, so you’re on an elevator. Somehow it comes up that you are a Unitarian Universalist. The person next to you really looks interested. Perhaps all that I’ve shared is just too much. Here’s a simpler, more concise stab at it. The elevator version. At our best, our religion is simply the practice of love. At our best. All religious traditions speak of love in one way or another. But so often love takes a back seat to doctrine, practice, or creed. At our best, we do not reduce our faith to these less important things. This is the power of our liberal tradition. Specific expressions of our faith (principles and practices) may change. But as Unitarian minister Theodore Parker pointed out 150 years ago, while most things are transient, there is something permanent. We must search with passion for that which endures and be vigilant in guarding against idolatries (of doctrine or practice) of any kind. We must be careful not to confuse the transient with the permanent. I believe that practicing love, even as imperfectly as we do, is our only hope for holding on to that which endures.

I want to thank our twenty-five year members for holding on. For embracing this liberal faith and bringing its values into the world. Your faith and commitment have made this community possible for us. You have worked for safety, compassion, responsibility, joy, and hope at First Unitarian Universalist. And we are here because you have done this.