During our UU Roots class I suggested that at least once, everyone should walk out into the foyer at our York St. entrance, stand there for a moment quietly, and then look up.
I also suggested that people take a look at the plaque to the left of the York St. door. It lists the 23 ministers who have served here since 1832. Only one of the names does not have a date when their ministry ended here. Except for me, every minister who has ever served here has left. Some day, I too will have my name plate updated to show the date I left. As of this very moment, however, I can honestly say that I have never once personally regretted having been called to serve this congregation. Nor is it my intention to leave anytime soon. Of course, as the names on the plaque make clear, in one very real sense, every minister is an interim minister.
I say all of that because as a general rule, I like to re-frame the word SIN as an acronym for self-inflicted nonsense. Which is not the same as saying that I nor anyone else ever does anything wrong, ever behaves poorly toward another, or is ever deceitful to another, etc.
I am all too painfully aware that much of what I am about to say -- which some of you may think is directed personally toward you -- could just as easily have been directed toward me. As I have been writing this week I have been mindful of the Bible verse in the Gospel of John, chapter 8, verse 7. It says, "Let him who is without sin cast the first stone."
However, as much as the remarks that are about to follow could be about me, I will in fact one day be leaving. So, whatever I offer up to you which may be of any use whatsoever ultimately needs to be about this church and those of you who choose to make it your church from this day forward. My hope is that you will try to hear what I have to say in the spirit, care and authenticity with which I am trying to offer it.
That said, let's get started with the questions you all came here to have answered today. What's wrong with creeds and do I believe that we are truly creedless, mostly creedless, or creedless for all practical purposes? In case you have plans for the afternoon and want to leave early, I'll give you the short answers to those questions.
Why do I think absolute statements of faith, i.e. creeds are not something I want to be a part of my religious journey? Let me count the reasons.
I think that Bertrand Russell expressed it well when he said, "The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves, and wiser people so full of doubts."
Creeds lead to Crusades and Holy Wars and Jihads. Perhaps even Unitarian Universalist Jihads, who knows? For me, creeds and absolute dogmas are too often the weapons of fundamentalist thinkers, true believers, "fools and fanatics."
In many cases they are what lead us away from the religious traditions of our early years.
As to the second part of the question, I do believe or at least hope at this point in my journey, that Unitarian Universalism is truly creedless, or at least mostly creedless, or creedless for all practical purposes.
However, despite my current confessed hope that we are truly creedless, even I at first had some real difficulty with the statement by the Rev. Davidson Loehr in an address entitled Why "Unitarian Universalism" is Dying. In that address he referred to our "seven principles. . . as the Seven Banalities or the Seven Dwarfs -- which [he says, after their adoption in the mid-80's] soon became the de facto creed of a brand-new religion called Unitarian Universalism, a religion that had never before existed anywhere."
Despite my initial visceral reaction to Rev. Loehr's dismissive comment, - I have since come to believe that despite what many of you say about how much you may love "Our Principles" or "Our Covenant" or what you read is "our Object in Our Constitution" or how you feel about "our" current mission statement - you probably don't believe in your heart that you understand any of them the same way that I do or vice-versa. I personally can't believe that we are all so precisely clear on all of those things - despite how lovely the words are - and they are admittedly quite lovely and attractive.
I suspect we would have trouble coming to a consensus agreement on what "Bloom where you are planted" means.
Or how about just these two words, beloved community?
To simplify things around here -- how would you feel about changing "our principles" to "Bloom where you are planted" in this our beloved community? It sounds pretty good to me. If I was looking for a creed, I might give that one a try. Whaddya' think?
I have often said that being a UU isn't easy. One of the reasons is that we don't usually accept simple sound-bite answers to life's difficult questions - answers that we can all agree that we agree upon.
Let me try to be a little more explicit about my concerns over anything we have that resembles a creed whether it's "Our Principles" or "Our Covenant" or whatever. Please believe that I think probably all of the words in all of our pseudo-creeds are very nice words. I'm just not sure that we really agree sufficiently on what they mean. At least not just yet. Nor will we in another hour.
Let's start with "Our Principles." For discussion might we also think of them as the same or almost the same as "our core beliefs" or "our core values?" Personally, I tend to think that those three terms are pretty similar to one another. I have heard from a psychology professional that core values in psychology actually mean something that I am not talking about. I apologize for any confusion my clinical mis-use of the term may cause you.
I'm a community dancer. Historically, in that form of dancing there is a saying that has been used to invite people to dance. It is some variation on, "form long lines [or circles or squares] for as many as will." So, for the purpose of this sermon I ask as many as will to either accept or to find something else along the lines of our "core beliefs" or "core values" which you can comfortably substitute for "Our Principles."
Let's suppose that you chose "Our Core Values" or maybe you chose "Our Favorite Pizza." For purposes of this discussion it may not matter all that much which you choose. Here is the next question; do you think that "Our Core Values" or even "Our Favorite Pizza" are substantially identical? My choice of substitutions for "Our principles" was "Our Core Values." After our congregational meeting last week did you come away thinking that "Our collective Core Values" or "Our Principles" were anywhere close to being in sync with one another?
So, if we were to accept that "Our Principles" could be considered "Our Core Values" or something similar - surely we don't believe that every one of us has the same core values. Miles Davis, whose birthday [May 25] is later this month said, If you understood everything I said, you'd be me . . . . It seems to me, who has admittedly been wrong before, that to think that "Our Core Values" are identical is absurd beyond even my wildest imagining. It is an idea made only slightly more absurd by the fact that many of us self-identify as Unitarian Universalists.
So, whose core values are we talking about when any one of us points a finger at another and says, "Our Principles mean that we have to do this or behave that way to be considered good UUs." Or instead of "Our Principles," someone might say that Justice with a capital "J" demands that we do something the way that they understand that it should be done.
Are they saying that "Our Core Values" mean that? Or, are they telling me that "Norm's personal core values" mean that he has to behave the way that they are prescribing? Or, are they saying , "their core values" mean that I have to behave the way they are prescribing?
Huh?
Let me posit that for purposes of what I hope will soon be a much wider conversation, we are not talking about whether anyone's core values are right or wrong. For example, in most medical ethics situations it is not a question of what's right or wrong that is the problem. It is a dilemma between what is right and right that is the problem.
Let me preface an example by saying that I am not talking about legal rights here, I am talking about moral or ethical rights.
Who among you believed that the husband of Terry Schiavo was in the right when he made the decision to remove life support from his wife?
Who among you believed that Terry's parents were in the right wanting to save her and hope for a miracle?
Now when I talk about "Our Core Values" and I believe that when many of you talk about "Our Principles" we are both attempting to talk about religious matters; what Guy Noir might call "life's persistent questions" and what James Luther Adams would call that which is most intimate and ultimate in each of our lives. It is not the place of any liberal religious community to overtly try to change "my core values" by telling me what "Our Principles" say that I must do. It is just too easy for "Our Principles" to be confused with "your core values." To put it as bluntly as I can, in my version of things, that is not what the Free Church does.
Let me give you one example to illustrate my point.
Suppose that you are in a relationship with someone that you care very deeply about. Let us suppose that you are passionate about that person and that you are also passionate about your Chosen Faith, Unitarian Universalism. Let's suppose however that your partner is not nearly so passionate about your Chosen Faith as you are. They might actually be passionate about their faith choice and barely interested in your way of being religious at all. Maybe they're a Methodist, or a Presbyterian, or Blessed Mary, a Catholic for example.
Let's suppose that you don't really understand how your partner could not see that the Unitarian Universalist faith is the only way to be religious -- at least for anyone who can think for themselves. Suppose that you begin to try to influence your partner to see the light, subtly at first but more and more enthusiastically as the years go by. Suppose that your partner had no interest in discussing this matter in the first place and that they were very satisfied with their own faith choice - thank you very much. After many years of your urging your partner decides that they have had enough of your lack of respect for their core values and they end the relationship and says that they are "out of here."
And you say, "what happened?"
Now many of you have proposed that we settle our differences in core values in this church by finding some consensus, going into mediation, or doing more conflict resolution and management training. Those all strike me as noble efforts to end certain kinds of disputes.
Here's why I am hesitant to embrace those ideas in our most recent divisive issue. I think that we are trying to mediate our core values based upon things like "Our Principles" which I for one am not very clear that we agree upon yet. Suppose I say to my wife, "I respect that some of our core values are very different. However, I think we should go to mediation over our different religious choices." I say this knowing full well that I could never in good conscience go to a good liberal Methodist Church even once a month. Nor do I want to. She feels about the same.
We both love our chosen faiths.
Perhaps my wife and I could talk about it more and come to some consensus on the matter. However, with just the two of us consensus isn't really a very practical option. Maybe if there were 3 or 4 of us or even ten of us we could come to a consensus and get the one of us who doesn't already go to First Unitarian to see the light.
Somehow, even that doesn't feel right for me.
What happens when we get 250 members, or hopefully 500 someday, and want to come to consensus on a matter where our core values are deeply divided in multitudinous ways.
I believe that most people go to church hoping to have their core values nurtured, supported, challenged, and at an absolute minimum respected. After some while, I would probably quit going to a church when my core values were not being sufficiently nurtured, supported, challenged, and at a minimum respected. I would not expect everyone in the church to share my core values completely.
I've spoken about future stories before. Your future story is what you believe consciously and unconsciously about what is coming in the future for you personally, and perhaps for us collectively. It is largely based upon your history, what has already happened to you in the past and what is happening to you now. Your future story is not set in stone. It is not pre-determined, at least not completely. You have the power to alter it. One of the things that pastoral counselors are trained to do is to help people uncover their future story and then decide whether that is story that they would like to support or perhaps change in some ways.
Churches have a collective future story also. It is a collective story created to a high degree by the future stories of the members, friends and children of the congregation.
There was an exchange on the "unofficial" church Chat line last week that caused me to think more deeply about the future story of the First Unitarian Church of Louisville. Someone made a comment in reference to a divisive issue we have been actively grappling with in this church for nearly five years if not longer. The author of the comment said something to the effect that they would just like to see this "finished."
Another participant on the Chat responded with rhetorical questions about what "finished" might mean personally for the respondent . The questions painted a bleak scenario. I must admit that the implied picture of what "finished" could look like was not any place I wanted to be.
A calling, a vision, a mission and hope are some of the positive things that can change our congregations's future story. They can help us create a future story that many of us "might could" get excited about.
From what I can determine, we haven't been very enthusiastic about who we are called to be or serve for at least several years before I arrived here, we don't have much of a vision, and not many of us seem very excited about our mission - if we happen to know what it is.
I decided to write privately to the author of what I think was the original "I just want to see this finished" comment on the chat line. I wrote to her first with a thought about what liberal religion is and also about what "finished" might look like for me.
This is what I wrote about Liberal Religion last Wednesday. It is by no means comprehensive, it is merely what I said last Wednesday on the subject.
Liberal religion for me is not about "more spirituality"- it is about "more discernment and more service." It is about more self-examination of what is most intimate and ultimate for me. It is about how I put whatever that might be into better serving my personal health and wholeness, as well as that of my family, my church, my community and my world.
Here is what I said last Wednesday to the Chat line poster about what "finished" look like.
For me. . ., I think that at least for now, "Finished" looks like we agree that in a Liberal Religious community we can agree that we don't agree on what ideas, behaviors, etc. are of the most "intimate and ultimate" concern in each of our lives.
We can agree that that is O.K.
"Finished" looks like the majority of us have agreed that the best way we now have to make decisions on what is O.K. is the democratic process, with large doses of common decency and civility thrown in to improve the taste.
We can agree that it is O.K. to say "no" even if we are wrong in doing so.
We can agree that we can change our mind[s] after continued dialogue and relationship building, etc., etc., etc.
Since Wednesday, I have expanded my ideas about what "finished" might mean or look like. I hope that my ideas will prompt each of you to think about what being "finished" could look like here at some point in the future.
For me, "finished" means . . .
I plan to have this sermon and these very preliminary ideas about what "finished" means to me posted to our website soon. I hope in your conversations with one another you will begin to think about what "finished" might look like for you.
Twenty years ago, after this church burned to the ground, we took solace in something T. S. Eliot had written. He told us that what seems like the end, i.e., what seems like being "finished" may actually be just the beginning. I hope to the very depths of my heart that he is right once again in our case,
. . . otherwise maybe we are already "finished."
Blessed be -- Amen -- Asé
Good advice, that old adage: bloom where you are planted, but my life and I still have questions with specific words.
Like "bloom".
What does it mean to "bloom"? How will I know when my budding life has reached the stage called "bloom"? How will I know when my life has enlarged and spread and softened enough to be in full flower, neither more nor less than my unfolding was meant to be? What are the finite bookends that divide off vigor/freshness/beauty/prime from what is not those things
Like "where".
Oh, my grounding feels deeper than this specific spot of earth where I hold property and vote and there are many "wheres" that could feel like home. But how far should I roam from here, an arbitrary place where fate has plunked me for now? Is it a matter of finding the right "where" or going to any "where" and making it right but what if I can't and I have chosen a barren place where my spirit cannot soar and dive in dizzying winds, a place where my loves cannot flourish?Like "you".
Now is that "you" singular or plural? Al and I tug sometimes at the "you", sometimes wanting "I" a little better represented than "we". Those golden handcuffs of pensions and benefits and already planted gardens tussle with the pull of other places that send a hither whistle that only my heart can hear. On the fulcrum of the seesaw where you and I push off skyward until bumped by the reality of the other partner. A game, a game, but why do I feel that his yesterday commitments count more than my today search
Like "are".
"Are" sounds real present oriented, rooted in now and here, without the trust to lay my ear to the railroad tracks and try to hear the sounds of something that is somewhere else, straining to hear/feel what is told to me in vibrations only when my eyes are clenched tight closed. How to live in the tension between being and becoming, today and tomorrow, now and then, what is and what might be, a bird in the hand but maybe six in that bush...
Like "planted".
That sounds kind of passive as if I am a seed or plant upon which growth and change are laid. What if I am also the gardener who shops the catalogues while winter's snow comes from above and trickles off to the field I cannot even see? What if I am also the hired hand who walks the rectangle with a heavy tiller, turning up great gashes of earth before I can get in to sit and break up the chunks into powdery loam? What if I am also the Aztec woman who draws rows in the earth with a magical branch cut from the pussy willow near the brook? What if I am also the one who drops the seeds and covers them up as gently as if the seed thing were my own baby? What if I am also the wind who sighs across the garden and the one who waters the earth with my tears and the one who sends the sun to coax the seeds to wake them up?
Except for those few words, I have no problem with the words. Good advice, that old adage: bloom where you are planted,
Cynthia B. Johnson
April 23, 1992
SINGING