Sunday, February 3, 2013

Evil


Evil is icky.

It is never really any fun, it always includes pain, and even the most dastardly villain is harmed by performing an act of villainy, although the payback may not be quick enough for some.

Evil is also hard for us, as Unitarian Universalists, to theologically engage in. As I mentioned two weeks ago, our lack of a theological response to evil is, according to Coretta Scott King, one of the primary factors that she and her husband didn’t become Unitarian Universalists, even though they regularly attended a historically famous Unitarian Universalist church in Boston while he was attending university there.


Our faith started out as two faiths, both of whom were born during the Age of Enlightenment. The Age of Enlightenment itself was a response to the superstitions of the Middle Ages, where evil roamed freely in the woods and in the night.

After all, the Age of Enlightenment is all about reason, and reasonable people do not commit evil.

In some way, it could be argued that since rational people do not commit evil, evil has no place in our systematic way of thinking about the world except to “other” it.

Evil happens over there. Evil happens in some other corner of the globe.

Evil is the abuser, the oppressor.

We are not this thing called evil, we are nice people doing all that we can to make the world a better place.


Recently, the Revs. Denis Paul, Lucas Hergert and I were discussing evil.

From that discussion rose the thought that evil existed in a corporate body, a body of many, many people, each making decisions,  decisions that are not in themselves evil, but as a collection, become a kind of corporate evil.


This led us to a discussion about Thomas Hobbes’s book, The Leviathan, from which I quoted in January. Hobbes’s book describes the society as a great living body of individuals, from whom a monster is made.

Hobbes, it may be suggested, didn’t have the highest opinion of humanity.

And when I say “may be suggested” I’m really only kidding. Everybody who reads Hobbes knows that he doesn’t have a very high opinion of humanity.

Jonathan Edwards, the Puritan Minister who is most famous for his sermon “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God,” in which he compares humanity in the precarious predicament of being dangled over the fires of Hell by a God who is supremely disappointed in us. Edwards looks like a lightweight when compared to Thomas Hobbes.

And while I’m confessing things, yes, talking about Thomas Hobbes did bring up Calvin and Hobbes.

Which also it brought up John Calvin. Who it can safely be asserted, did not think too highly of humanity, either.

John Calvin had Michael Servetus burned at the stake. Servetus published a book called On the Errors of the Trinity, in which Servetus, the medical doctor who first articulated the human circulatory system, says that there is no text evidence for a Holy Trinity in the Bible, but in fact, there is only a Unity of God. God is one being, not triune. For his Unitarian heresy, Calvin had Servetus burned at the stake, his book strapped to his leg, using green wood, so that it would take longer.

It may seem odd now, but this faith of ours has some of its roots in Calvinism, which believes predestination, in the salvation of the select saints, and the eternal damnation of those who are NOT the “elect.” In the Calvinist view we are either condemned or saved, depending on what God has to say about it, and nothing we do, for good or ill, while we live plays any bearing on the outcome. This is what our Pilgrim and Puritan ancestors believed.

We rebelled against that notion and embraced the two theologies that are at our core. There is only one God, man is made in that image, and God has given us reason and minds, and a desire to improve the world around us.

In our modern expression, this has evolved into the idea that each person must find what is, for them, the ultimate value, using both our heart and our minds.

The second theology is that God is a loving God, that God would never condemn any person to eternal punishment after death, and instead loves the wicked and the just equally. Because God’s capacity to love is so much greater than human understanding.


But still we carry some of that Puritan work ethic, and part of that Puritan ability to judge our neighbors quite harshly.

The upside to the Pilgrim work ethic is we have an underlying "understanding" or belief that hard work will result in a good life. That if we keep our noses to the grindstone, if we don't stray too far from the path, we can retire when we're old, and be okay.

The downside is that somewhere in the back of our psyche we make the connection that since those who work hard are rewarded and good, and their life will reflect that.

This also means that in our subconscious we equate a life that is less than desirable is the result of a poor work ethic, or poor moral compass.

Which of course, is not true.  But it is deeply imbedded in the American subconscious.


America is the wealthiest nation on Earth, but it’s people are mainly poor, and poor Americans are urged to hate themselves… It is in fact a crime to be poor, even though America is a nation of poor.  Every other nation has folk traditions of men who were poor but extremely wise and virtuous, and therefore more estimable than anyone with power and gold.  No such tales are told by American poor.  They mock themselves and glorify their betters. - Kurt Vonnegut, “Slaughterhouse Five”


If evil is in fact, many small acts motivated by indifference or anger, or hate, what does it mean when I tell the homeless person that I have no change for them?

What prompted this burning question behind this sermon was one act.

Denis and I were walking the dog, and this guy, I’d guess in his mid-20’s, with a bottle of what I assumed was alcohol wrapped in a small bag, asked us for some change.

And afterward I wondered about the role of this one act on the way to a more corporate evil.

It is only one act, and it may even be a true statement, that I had no change, but when does my statement, echoed by the voices of many people, over time, when do we slip from a single interaction of indifference into a corporate act of evil?

It was a true statement. I didn’t have any change, and more and more I find this to be the case, as I pay for everything with a debit card, but is that the part that matters?

Here is, as Paul Harvey might have said, part of the rest of the story.

When this man asked me for money, I made a quick assessment of him. He was sort of unwashed, stumbling around a bit, it was about 9:00am. He was carrying a bag that I was pretty sure had a 40 ouncer in it, and I didn’t have any change to give him.

But did I stop and ask him about his life?

No.

Did I ask him if there was something else I might help him with?

No.



So here you have, in just about 5 seconds, a small number of acts that I committed.

Judgment.
Disregard.
Apathy.
Dismissal.

How many small acts of indifference does it take to make a corporate evil?


If you have spent any time in a city of any size, you have been asked for spare change by some stranger. And perhaps you’ve become callous to it. Blind to it.


But what if someone really did need just $5 in gas to get home? What if that person was really just looking for enough money for something to eat?


The world is full of stories of great kindness shown to someone in need. There’s been a whole “Pay it Forward” movement, there are people who offer kindnesses, with no expectation of return, but that the generosity will be offered, in its due time, to another, of your own acquaintance who needs a little help.

Think back for a moment to little Chen, who loved his grandfather so much that he planted a little seed in a pot made by his grandfather. This seed he loved and nurtured for a whole year, even with the seed did not respond to his care.

Think, for just a moment, about how kinder the world would be if people had a little faith in their fellow humans.

More faith than I displayed on that Thursday morning a few weeks back.

Here is a quote from a person named “D. Sutten.” In all of the years that I have had this quote, I have not been able to figure out this person’s first name, or anything else about them.

Some go through life getting free rides; others pay full fare and something extra to take care of the free riders.  Some of the free riders are those who make an art of “knowing the angles,” others are rascals, others lazy; but some really need help and could not ride unless they rode free.  I don’t spend much time worrying about the free riders; but I am a full-fare man, first and last

I am not suggesting that you leave this sanctuary, and offer all of your worldly possessions to those who may ask. Jesus had many, many great ideas, and some of them weren’t so practical.

I am not suggesting that you give away all your worldly goods and follow me.

What I’m saying to you is that if we follow the advice of D. Sutten, we will not spend any of our precious time worrying about how the other person got on the bus. If we let D. Sutten be our bodhisattva about this, our teacher who helps us to see the path of the Dharma, if Sutten can show us to be unattached to the idea of fairness…

If we can let go of our own Puritan work ethic…

Just long enough to be charitable to our fellow humans…

And I don’t necessarily mean charitable with spare change,

But a kind word or two. A gentle inquiry…

Then it won’t matter to you if the $5 for gas is really for gas.


The important thing is that in an act of kindness, whether with change or not, you will not, at the very least, be contributing to the act of corporate, collective evil, if you act in kindness.


There but for the Grace of God go I.

I heard this phrase once while square dancing. My club, Chicagoland’s largest Square Dance club, was hosting a dance, and people from other clubs had come into the City to participate.

It was a sight to behold.  The Chi-town squares was founded 27 years ago to give same sex dance partners a place to square dance, because they weren’t allowed to dance together in any existing clubs.

I don’t want to get too far down the rabbit hole with this story, so I’ll cut to the chase.

During the dance, NPR was there, doing a story on our club. They were interviewing an 80 year-old woman from the Republican suburbs of Chicago about being at our dance.

When the interviewer asked her about dancing with this gay club, she responded:

Well, at first I wasn’t to sure about all this. I mean, I’m just not used to watching men dancing together, holding hands and the like. But this is my 10th year coming to this dance. They always serve the best food, and they’re always so genuinely welcoming to us, more traditional folks. And they dance so well. Like I said, I was nervous the first year I came, but then I met these people, and I thought; “There but for the grace of God go I.” These people could be my children, just as easily as they are the children of some other parents. And after that I decided that God must love them, and I should, too. And in all these years, they have been nothing but gracious hosts to us.

This is the kind of response that I wish I’d had two weeks ago when that man asked me for some change.


JRR Tolkein wrote, through the voice of Gandalf the Great:

“Some believe it is only GREAT POWER that can hold evil in check. But that is not what I have found. I have found that it is the small, every-day deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay. Small acts of kindness and love.”

This woman could’ve easily forever stayed away from dancing with my old club, but she didn’t. She stretched herself, and found herself expanded by Love.

Don’t we deserve also to be expanded by Love?

It can happen to you, one act by one act.

The choice is yours.

Make it a good one.