Unitarian Universalism is a faith in motion.
We do not
have a creed nor a dogma. We do not have a test of faith that one must pass in
order to belong.
We are,
though, a covenantal religion. By definition, a covenant means an agreement,
usually formal, between two or more people that the parties will or will not do
a specific something. An ecclesiastical covenant, a covenant that is
specifically religious, is defined as a solemn agreement between the members of
a church to act together in harmony with the precepts of the gospel.
It is worth
noting that the phrase “the gospel” in the above definition does not make
reference to “the Gospels” of Christianity, rather “the gospel,” or good news,
of one’s own faith.
We, too,
have a gospel. A Unitarian Universalist “Good News” of our own. And because we
are a faith that is in constant formation, our gospel is changing.
You will
sometimes hear or read that we are a liberal faith.
This does
not mean that we are all liberals.
It means
that our theology is open to be questioned and reflected upon. Ours is a faith
that is motion.
The United
Church of Christ has a slogan that they’ve been using for a couple of years
now. “God is still speaking.” It
is an awesome slogan.
What it
means, in part, is that God is still revealing the universe, that faith is not
set in stone.
We, not
surprisingly, share a very similar outlook. We also believe in the continual
revelation of the universe. Faith is not set in stone.
Almost 10
years ago, Rev. Dr. Bill Sinkford, then President of the Unitarian Universalist
Association of Congregations, of which we are a member congregation, gave a
sermon in which he spoke about a need for us to engage in a “language of
reverence.”
The Fort
Worth Star-Telegram, misquoted Bill,
reporting that we needed to bring God back to Unitarian Universalism. And oh,
some of you may remember the firestorm that followed.
Bill
Sinkford wrote in an open letter exchange with Rev. Dr. Rebecca Parker,
President of the Starr King School for the Ministy. There was also a very
important open letter written by Rev. David Bumbaugh, a very strong and
eloquent voice for humanism, from the Meadville Lombard Theological School.
In his
letter, Sinkford writes that since this misquote in Ft. Worth, he, as then
president, had the opportunity to hear from thousands of Unitarian
Universalists. And in this opportunity, he has learned a few things. Here are
some of Bill’s words:
The most important learning is that our
faith community is ready for, even yearning for this conversation. It is, of course, not a surprise that
those congregants who crave more “spiritual” worship have been energized. More of a surprise was the response
from those “new” Unitarian Universalists from an unchurched background. They have been eager, almost hungry to
engage with this conversation and the invitation to share their spiritual
journeys. But perhaps most
surprising has been the response of those who name themselves “Humanists.” It is from persons with that identity
that I have received the most correspondence, first in anger, but now
frequently with open minds and tender hearts.
I’ve also learned that the language
which would pit the “Humanists” against those desiring “Greater Spirituality”
is truly unhelpful. To frame this
conversation as a process which will separate the sheep from the goats, the
right from the wrong invites argument and debate, but not discernment
reflection and learning.
The reality is that, in the broad
definition, every Unitarian Universalist is a humanist. We know there are no other hands on
earth but ours.[1]
David
Bumbaugh, full disclosure here, David served as my advisor and mentor in
seminary, David Bumbaugh responded in a public forum at General Assembly. From
the UUA World, our denominational magazine:
The debate about a language of
reverence has proved to be quite divisive. According to Bumbaugh, some Unitarian
Universalists saw the call for a language of reverence as "a profound
threat," a part of a "neo-conservative thrust within our
movement." The debate has degenerated into "a struggle over who will
predominate within the movement," he said, "who will win and who will
lose [but] when we allow ourselves to engage in that kind of struggle, all of
us will lose."
Bumbaugh does not want to return to
traditional language to create a language of reverence. Nor does he feel that
such traditional language will help us make a difference in the world. "I
do not believe that sprinkling 'God-talk' in our sermons" will be help
Unitarian Universalists to be more relevant. Instead, such a return to
traditional language "will make us opportunists."…
"In fact, religion is [now] a part
of the entertainment industry," he said. "In the process, it has been
stripped of its power to stand in opposition" to a world that is filled
with injustice. Instead of religious communities standing in judgment on
secular political power, religion has become a tool of political power. In
Bumbaugh's opinion, using traditional religious language "is to ask us to
employ a tongue so corrupted and exploited" that it is no longer useful.
"Do we new language of reverence?
Yes," he said. "The old language has been captured and
enslaved."[2]
As was true
while I was in seminary, I find myself sheepishly, and not completely,
disagreeing with my old professor.
What
Bumbaugh is saying here is that if we merely pepper our sermons and newsletter
articles with God-language, we are not making ourselves more relevant, we are
cheapening our message, our gospel.
With this I
agree.
What I wish
David had said, though, is that not only is the old language been captured and
enslaved, but that we ourselves are enslaved to this language only because we
allow it.
So many in
our congregation and in Unitarian Universalist congregations around the globe
are carrying wounds from the religious experiences of their past. Many of these
wounds have never healed because as individuals, we have not done the work we
need to do to process through these wounds, to do the necessary emotional work
to heal ourselves.
What we end
up with, then, is a congregation of people, each with a series of words that
they have a reaction to. Words like: God, altar, sexton, prayer, and worship.
We are a
covenantal faith. This congregation decides for itself just what this covenant
is. But whatever the details, the covenant will be an ecclesiastical covenant
because we are a house of faith. Our covenant will serve our gospel.
Gospel,
there’s another one of those sticky words.
When I first
became a Unitarian Universalist in 1995, our Gospel, our “good news” was that
we were largely a humanist institution that, at least in my church, didn’t have
much use for God or things that were “spiritual and wu-wu.” We were smart,
educated, rational people, and that’s just they way we like it, thank you very
much!
Except it
really wasn’t enough for me. There was a time when I considered leaving
Unitarian Universalism for something that struggled with the mystery of life.
Happily, for
me and others, just as in the post World War I era, Unitarianism is shifting. I
say Unitarianism on purpose, because the merger between Universalism and
Unitarianism hadn’t yet happened.
After the
atrocities of World War I, a strong Humanist Movement began. World War II’s
atrocities brought yet more into Humanism.
David
Bumbaugh grew up a Universalist. As he grew older, the concepts of God he grew
up with were challenged by the 20th century. David never, never lost
his reverence for life, but, like many, increasingly he found God irrelevant to
his religious life.
I am on an
almost opposite path. I grew up—essentially—secular and un-churched. Sure,
there were some brief flirtations with church while I was growing up, but
nothing too serious. Like my advisor, my reverence for life grows as I get
older. But I find myself looking for something beyond humanity.
By this, I
don’t mean God in the “old man with a beard in the sky” God. I mean, it seems
to me that there is something more than human on this planet.
Rebecca
Parker, responded to Bill Sinkford’s open letter, in part, this way:
Can Unitarian Universalists speak of
God? Some outside of Unitarian
Universalist circles would find the question itself astounding. “If you can’t mention God in church,
where can you talk about God?” But we have been wary of God-language and for
good reason. God-talk has often
aided and abetted injustice and oppression. Unitarian Universalist theologian William R. Jones, in his
ground-breaking book “Is God a White Racist?,” argues that traditional theology
which speaks of God as requiring redemptive suffering has blessed white
privilege and sanctioned social structures that multiply black suffering.
Feminist theologians have noted that patriarchal patterns in society have been
authorized by imagining God as Father, King and Ruler. The struggle for racial justice and the
rights of women and children continue.
Why resurrect language and images that have caused so much harm?
Over the course of the past 200 years,
in the name of justice and liberation, religious liberals have hastened the
death of God. We have presided at
the funeral of God the King, God the Father, God the Unmoved Mover, God the Old
White Man in the Sky, the Able-Bodied God, the Straight God, the All-Knowing
God, the Leave-It-All-to-Me-I’ll-Take-Care-of-It God, and more. In place of God, we have emphasized
human responsibility. We know it
is in our hands to create justice, equity, compassion and peace. As Marx said, faith in God too often
becomes a way for people to abnegate our responsibility, deny our power and
become passive in the face of a sacrosanct status quo. The way the name of God has been so
easily on the lips of those who bless acts of war is only the most recent
example of people leaning on God to rationalize human actions that are far from
holy.
Your call for a renewed religious
language is heard by some among us as a threat to this hard-won sobriety in the
face of religious language that sanctions injustice and obscures human
responsibility. But I hear something else in your call. It is not a call to return to old ways
that we have learned are inadequate.
Your call is something new -- something that could only happen in the
wake of the death of God.
Those who have moved through the death
of God find themselves entering a new space -- a space in which the divine can
be experienced in a fresh way. The
baggage of oppressive images has been left behind. In the ensuing openness, a sense of sacred presence emerges
and invites articulation. People
come again to the realization that in the face of overwhelming threats to our
lives and the life of all we love there is a source of sustenance, resistance
and hope that moves within us and beyond us.[3]
Parker’s
words encourage us to be open to experience the Divine in new, fresh ways.
Where are we
going? I alone cannot say. It is not up to just one individual.
It is up to
us, the body of this Fellowship, and our fellows around the globe, to determine
together, in gentle and strong covenant, to figure this out.
This is the
third and final service focused on our monthly theme of Vision. And so I’m
going to leave you with a question this morning.
What is your
vision of beloved community, and how do we foster such a community? How do your
actions and words help to you to be a co-creator of a congregation that helps
bring this ideal become reality?
