A Unitarian Universalist View of Prayer

by Posted in Audio available, Guest Speakers, Nell Newton, Sermons

Nell Newton

November 28, 2010

Do you pray? Really?

Is there “something” you do – almost automatically – in certain situations?

I mean, outside of the times, when midway through our service we are invited to “join in an attitude of prayer” and someone reads something worthy of pondering. Do you really pray? Or do you just adopt an attitude?

If you do pray, would you admit it to anyone else — to the person sitting next to you in these pews? Would you tell me?

Our practice has no fixed liturgy of prayer. We have no cannon, no formal recitation of holy words to use in times of turmoil to calm our hearts, or focus our thoughts. If you walk into any Unitarian or Universalist church in North America, you will not hear the same words spoken in the same way at the same part of a service. We have no shared doxology for giving thanks or acknowledging blessings. We have freed ourselves from any requirements that would dictate how and when, or even IF we should pray. And, for the most part we seem to be getting along okay.

In fact, some of us are probably pretty glad to be done with certain prayers. (Our father who art in heaven… hmmmm…, lift up his countenance… uh hunh… , and it is in dying that we…. hmmmm….) It well might have been in the middle of a standard prayer that you stumbled, and were caught up short when you realized I Cannot Say That And Mean It.

So what DO we say?

Maybe we don’t. Maybe prayer isn’t a part of your life. Maybe, you are a pragmatic person like my Aunt Ruth. Ruth lives outside a small town in southern Michigan. While her family is not particularly religious, plenty of her neighbors attend the many Christian churches. One day, while fixing supper for her family, Ruth collapsed on the kitchen floor in an epileptic seizure. It was a one-time thing, it never happened again. But it meant countless trips to medical specialists, and the inconvenience of losing her drivers license for a whole year. After the initial scare, she heard from too many members of the community “Oh Ruth, we’re praying for you.” It wore on her patience. She told me “I don’t want their damn prayers – I want someone to help me pick up my kids from school and take me grocery shopping!” Like I said, she is a pragmatic woman.

At its worst, “We’re praying for you” carries a whiff of condescension. As if the speaker can plainly see from your sorry condition, that your own prayers have been insufficient, so they’ll lend you some of theirs.

Perhaps that is why UU’s tend to shy away from that particular exchange.

From the get-go, that type of prayer is beseeching and calling upon a god for intervention or intercession. Could you lend me a hand down here? In its most immature, prayer is wishing – wishing for a puppy, a sparkly pony, a good grade on the test. Up one level comes the bargaining – “I’ll give up cussing and taking your name in vain if only you’ll…” And many of the wordiest of prayers amount to flattery: “Oh all powerful and merciful god…” The speaker is but a humble servant buttering up a vain and capricious deity. I’ve had some bosses like that, and, for me, such a character is not a god worth serving.

So we’ve grown up and we’re past the wheedling and pleading prayers. We’re not waiting for god to bring about changes we’re not ready to make for ourselves. We know better than to bargain with the universe. If we are going to make a personal connection to a greater power, it better be one we respect. And for several of us, god simply does not fit into a deity-box. And that’s where it gets a little complicated… To what address should we send such messages?

And what do we say – almost reflexively, after the first gasp of sadness follows bad news? What do we say when someone has had a loss – a death – and there is nothing one can do. And yet there is the wish to affirm for that person’s well-being and the longing to offer healing. These are the times when prayer would be a traditional response. What do we say when our heart is pained with sympathy? Do you have prayers to offer? Would you consider them of any value to offer?

I’ll stop asking you questions and quickly tell you straight up. I do pray. And it is a physical and quiet practice with almost no words – only names. Each day I pray specifically for a family I know. Earlier this year Jim died from a brain tumor. He left behind his wife and teenage sons who now must reconstruct their lives without him. Each day I still my body, clear my head, and think of each one of them completely, and open my heart to hold them all. Do they know about this? No. Should they? No. Do my prayers have any effect upon them? Honestly, that’s not the point. But this action keeps them present in my life, and makes it easier for me to pick up the phone, invite them over to dinner, offer to pick the kids up from music lessons, and be of some real use.

Frankly, the efficacy of prayer has yet to be proven definitively. There have been assorted studies that mostly show the placebo effect is alive and well. Many have tried to measure change in patient outcome following intercessionary prayer, and when the double-blind data is reviewed, prayer does not seem to improve the sick people who are prayed for.

But like so many studies, I wonder if the researchers were measuring the right part of the process. Perhaps, rather than measure the outcome of the people prayed for, perhaps we should measure the outcome of the people who are praying for someone else. Or we might examine the outcome of the family members who know their loved one received prayers.

Reverend Ed Brock told me how upon the death of his wife’s mother their family received many kindnesses from friends. The most unusual was a special gift made by two nuns they know professionally. They sent a card that said, in effect, we have made a gift to a convent in upstate New York and for a year the sisters in this convent will give payers for your family.

There was nothing in the note suggesting a wish for conversion, or that the prayers would produce any specific outcome. But to Ed and Alphise it seemed like and felt like an act of love. The idea that out there, amid the crazy frenzy of society, a group of people somewhere were simply mentioning her name daily — that idea was powerful. It wasn’t the potential supernatural dimension, but the caring dimension that touched them.

There is the other type of common prayer – the act of giving thanks. As Meister Eckhart explained “If the only prayer you ever say in your whole life is “thank you,” that would suffice.”

My favorite instruction came from my Korean martial arts master who was raised in a Buddhist temple. In his broken English, he scolded us: “Before you eat the pig, thank the pig! Because, if they could, the pig’s family would sue you!!”

As UU’s we’re a bit more comfortable here. Giving thanks doesn’t presume that we’re flawed, or helpless, just appreciative and observant. And we can be munificent in our thanks to the animal, the farmer, the cook!

In stopping to give thanks, we allow ourselves a moment to experience beauty and bounty more fully. Who wouldn’t want to spend time in this type of prayer? But do we – other than for formal occasions? Do you offer thanks over the morning’s oatmeal or the leftovers eaten at your desk? Have your kids ever seen you pause at breakfast on Tuesday and say “thank you” before the fork touches the food? What would that be like? Are you really up for three-squares of thankfulness every day?

Years ago, I worked as the Kitchen Manager and cook at a Quaker residential house on Beacon Hill in Boston. It was the Quaker custom of that community to have a good solid minute of silence before we ate our evening meal. There was nothing structured and no one led us with instructions or guidance through that silence. As the cook, it was generally the first time I had sat down in 6 hours and the first few times, if god spoke to me it was through bone-deep fatigue and if I gave thanks it was for the chair under my butt. But in time, I found myself placing a final blessing upon the food. It had passed through my hands, and was about to be received by people (who were grateful that they had not had to cook), and who would use the energy it gave them to study medicine, choreograph new dances, arrange flowers, build houses, and change their world. Eventually I found whole afternoons of chopping onions, crimping pie crusts, washing pots became an extended action of prayer. Living in an intentional community can do that sort of thing to an impressionable young person.

However, these days, I’m like most folks, hurrying to fix dinner, with NPR telling me about the horrible state of the world. I snap off the radio and fling the food at my tired and surly family who generally do not bother to thank me, the pig, the farmer, or anyone else. It is not ideal, but at least we have a place to work up from…

Just as many UUs have started to reclaim the language of god-talk, some of us are starting to reclaim prayer on our own terms. Perhaps there was a baby in that bathwater. But to rescue it we’ll have to do more than simply deconstruct or demythologize the practice. In short, to understand it, we’ll have to do it.

One splendid Unitarian Universalist woman I know set out to develop her own ritual of prayer and tied it to her every day. She turned some of her daily actions into sacred rituals. Each morning, first thing, she scoops up a handful of birdseed and steps out onto her patio. She scatters the seed in a small mandala marking the four directions and recites a scrap of a Navajo prayer “There is beauty before me, there is beauty behind me.” She fills in her circle with peanuts for the blue jays, and pauses just long enough to feel connected with nature. Then, every evening, after the dishes are done, and the dog is walked, she stops and simply gives thanks for her guardians who have helped her that day. She calls for blessings on her children and grandchildren. She calls for blessings upon her animal companions and asks that the presence of love be with people she knows who are having troubles in their lives. This is simply what she does.

I came to prayer sideways – through meditation. They aren’t the same thing, but they improve one another. In meditation, a person looks inward to consider their actions and find where they might be wanting. Once the internal landscape has been surveyed, then the individual is ready to connect to the outer in prayer. Many time I found that I might dive down into meditation only to rise up in prayer — prayers of resolve and prayers of remembrance — prayers of thanks and prayers of acceptance. Sometimes a deity is referenced, and sometimes not. And that last detail, so far, has not proven injurious to my health, or limited the usefulness of the practice.

When I pray, I am not asking for anything, I am not expecting any change in the world, only a change in myself. If I surrender anything, I offer up my ego and selfishness, and invite Grace to enter and fill that space. And afterwards, I take my changed self forward, with that small spark of the divine inside me, burning just a bit brighter.

So, how do you pray? How might you take old words and blow new breath into them? Have you created a ritual and observed any changes within you? When faced with a crisis, would you have the humility and trust to open up and allow a caring person to pray with you, to help fan your divine spark so that it might burn a little brighter as you go forward to face what you must?

Now, I have an assignment for us here. You see, this topic is too big for one sermon and I need your help.

Honestly, I suspect that many of you do pray, in your own fashion, and for your own purposes. Being the humble and private people you are, I’ll predict yours are humble, private, prayers. But, if you could, please tell me about them. Tell me how you might have retained or reclaimed prayer. Where it fits in your day, and what you say when life rises up and threatens to overwhelm you. Tell me about it. And in another couple of months, I’d like to be back up here, and I’d like to share some of your stories about prayer.

Until then, if prayer isn’t in your life, be a diligent UU and at least question why. And then question “why” again. For those who would consider “why not?” may I invite you to bring along your god, your breath, and your willingness to be changed.

Blessed Be

© Nell Newton 11/28/2010

Unmasking Courage

by Posted in Audio available, Chris Jimmerson, Guest Speakers, Sermons

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Chris Jimmerson

October 31, 2010

Happy Halloween! One of Halloween’s main themes is fear. On this Halloween, what do Unitarian Universalists fear as a religious community and where do we find courage, one of our churches values, in the face of those fears?

I’ve been studying our earliest Unitarian predecessors and have found in their stories remarkable examples of courage – courage in a religious context, what we might call “spiritual courage”. So, I’ll ask you to indulge me for a bit, as we travel back to the 16th century, Reader’s Digest version.

Very frightening things are happening. The Gutenberg press has allowed for the wide scale printing of the bible, so people outside the Catholic Church hierarchy can actually read it! The protestant reformation has begun. The Renaissance in literature, arts and sciences has begun. Those scary Humanists have started studying things. Now, all of this is a great threat to the Catholic Church, so the Inquisition is in full force also.

It is a time when the power and wealth of governments and that of the Church are tightly intertwined, and biblical interpretation, doctrine, has been a major role of the Church in this power structure.

So, to protect their own influence (not to mention to avoid becoming victims of the inquisition themselves), the leaders of the larger reformation movements have expressed their differences with the church as points of practice, not essential doctrine.

Into this volatile situation, a book appears, On the Errors of the Trinity, by a Spanish Scholar in his early twenties named Michael Servetus, questioning one of the sacred creeds of the Church – God in Trinity; the Father, Son and Holy Ghost.

The year was 1531, and young Servetus had published his book hoping to convert the Reformers to his position that there was but one eternal God. His hopes were dashed. The Reformers quickly reaffirmed the Trinity. After trying and failing again with a second book, Servetus realized his books had put him in danger, changed his name and went into hiding in Lyons, France. He eventually become a medical doctor and is even mentioned in medical history texts for having elucidated the pulmonary circulatory system – like a good proto-Unitarian, he couldn’t be satisfied with only one field of excellence.

However, also like a good proto-Unitarian, Servetus had a little trouble letting go of things, and so, 15 years later, in 1546, he began another book AND, using his assumed name, struck up a correspondence debating theology with none other than John Calvin, the influential Protestant reformer who had established a powerbase in Geneva.

Calvin was courteous at first but quickly grew exasperated and sent Servetus his own views, as set out in Calvin’s, “Institutes of the Christian Religion”.

Upon receiving Calvin’s seminal book, Servetus responded with one of the first recorded instances of a long and beloved religious tradition still practiced in Unitarian Universalist churches across North America even today. He scribbled disparaging notes in the margins on where he thought Calvin was wrong and sent it back to him.

This may not have been wise.

An incensed Calvin, realizing he had actually been corresponding with Servetus, wrote to a friend that if Servetus should ever come to Geneva “I will not suffer him to get out alive”.

In 1553, Servetus published his new book, “The Restoration of Christianity”. By April 4 of 1553, the French Inquisition had arrested and jailed Michael Servetus for heresy, with evidence for the charge supplied by Calvin.

By April 7, 1553, Servetus had escaped from jail. After convincing the jailer to let him out so he could relieve himself in the jails walled garden, our proto-Unitarian ripped off his nightgown, and fully dressed underneath, scaled the wall and ran away. Inexplicably, he headed to Geneva. This most definitely was not wise.

In Geneva, he was recognized, arrested and convicted of spreading heresy, in a process largely manipulated by Calvin.

On October 27, 1553, Michael Servetus was burned at the stake. They used moist, green wood so that it would burn more slowly and prolong the suffering. They placed a crown sprinkled with gunpowder on his head.

And as the flames grew and the terror consumed him, as flesh was slowly turned to ash, Michael Servetus cried out in agony, but he never renounced his beliefs.

I wonder if today our religious beliefs could cost us our lives, could we summon that kind of courage? If facing that kind of terror, could I? Of course, I’m just speculating, because in modern America, such a situation seems to be a long ago and far away threat.

On September 21, 2005, the DuPage Unitarian Universalist Church received a bomb threat because of their support for marriage equality for gays and lesbians. It would be only one of many such threats against supporters of marriage equality.

On July 27, 2008, Jim David Adkisson walked into the Tennessee Valley Unitarian Universalist Church and opened fire with a shotgun, murdering two people and injuring several others because “he wanted to kill some liberals”. Not so long ago. Not so far away.

Perhaps the crazed acts of disturbed individuals. Perhaps the consequences of a growing rhetoric of violence over disagreement in “modern” America.

Michael Servetus left two legacies; 1. His execution led to a slow growth in religious tolerance and 2. His writings influenced many to reconsider some of Christianity’s most central doctrines, including the Unitarians in Poland and those in Transylvania.

The histories of both are fascinating and contain lessons in spiritual courage.

The Socinians, as the early Polish Unitarians came to be known, thrived for a while in the 16th century protected by the Polish minor nobility, even establishing their own township. However, it was not to last. The Catholic Counter Reformation, a series of invasions by surrounding peoples and shifts in economic and social influences led to growing persecution, until by 1660, the Socinians faced a choice – recant their beliefs, leave Poland or be but to death.

Many did recant. A few gave up all they owned and left, seeking the freedom to practice their beliefs elsewhere, some eventually joining the Unitarians in Transylvania. After only a little over a century, the Unitarian religious movement in Poland had all but perished.

Again, having to make such a choice – to have to summon the courage to migrate, destitute to a foreign land in order to remain true to our religious convictions – may seem like a distant and remote possibility to us now.

Any yet, thousands of people from throughout the world come to the U.S. every year seeking asylum, having fled religious persecution in their home countries, having made exactly that choice. We imprison most of them as soon as they arrive here and, since 9-11, fewer and fewer are seeing their asylum requests granted, especially those we consider to have the “wrong” religion.

Even closer to home, a group calling themselves “Repent Amarillo” has been attacking our Amarillo UU Fellowship, using techniques learned from the “New Apostolic Reformation”, an international organization that provides training on, quote, “taking communities though militant spiritual warfare techniques” — mapping whole geographic areas to identify where the sinners are located (such as in UU churches apparently) and either convert them or “drive the demons out”. Now in case you’re picturing me wearing a rather large tinfoil hat at this point, consider that, before his disgrace, the Rev. Ted Haggard in Colorado Springs adopted these same techniques to harass people he had decided were witches. Ten of his 15 targets sold their homes and moved away because of the harassment.

Last week, Reverend Brock spoke about America’s rising intolerance toward Muslims. Interesting then, that the Unitarianism that exists in Transylvania today was able to develop in the 16th Century because of the tolerance extended to them by the Sultan of the Islamic Ottoman State and because an intermixing of Islamic and Christian cultures bred an ethos of religious acceptance.

Their history is a long one, and religious tolerance toward the Unitarians in Transylvania has waxed and waned, as governments and societal influences have changed, yet they have persisted, providing us lessons in courage.

One such lesson is that spiritual courage requires standing up for religious tolerance. Our Amarillo Unitarian Universalist Fellowship knows this! You see, on September 11 of this year, the head of Repent Amarillo, part-time Reverend David Grisham, had planned to burn a Koran in a public park. The UU Fellowship organized a counter demonstration.

As the good Reverend doused his copy of the Koran with lighter fluid and held it over a barbeque pit preparing to set it on fire, the counter-protesters held their hands over the pit to stop him. Twenty three year old skateboarder, Jacob Isom, an avowed atheist, came up behind the Reverend, grabbed the book from his hands, said, “Dude, you have no Koran,” and ran away with it.

And so it came to pass that thanks largely to a bunch of Unitarian Universalists and a skateboarding atheist, no holy books were burned in Amarillo Texas that day.

A second lesson is that courage is not always one short act in time – that courage may be required over the long run, in the face of societal challenges and changes. We must practice a vigilant and a persistent courage. Only a few years ago, the Texas State Comptroller at the time, Carole Keeton Strayhorn, some of you may have heard of her, denied non-profit status to the UU church in Denison because they did not have one system of belief.

The Texas State Board of Education has been busily rewriting the rules for our childrens’ textbooks to, among other things, strengthen requirements for teaching the “Christian beliefs of the Founding Fathers” and to deemphasize Thomas Jefferson because he was a deist.

At the national Values Voters summit this year, attended by several of the nation’s most well-known politicians, the following statements were issued: that the U.S. should ban the construction of any new mosques anywhere in America; and that the 1st amendment to the constitution does not justify the separation of church and state.

Of the politicians attending, several of whom stand a chance of becoming our next President, not one of them disavowed these statements.

How are we to have courage in light of such challenges? How we do we avoid becoming discouraged in a culture filled with dogmatism and intolerance?

Well, research has found that practicing small acts of courage in our daily lives, such as reaching out to those with whom we have disagreed, builds confidence and prepares us to act with courage when confronting far greater risks.

Research has also found that discerning our values, and reflecting on them often, provides a higher purpose and the impetus for acting courageously. And this idea of finding courage in our values is why, this Halloween, I have resurrected our Unitarian ancestors; although, saying ancestors is a stretch. For the most part, Unitarianism in the U.S. developed independently of that in Europe. Still, each embraced a set of strikingly kindred core values, a shared religious DNA if you will, which UU historian Earl Wilbur identified as commitment to religious freedom, unrestricted use of reason and tolerance of differing views and practices.

This religious DNA is still a key element in the blueprint for Unitarian Universalism today, when we proclaim, “One religion, many beliefs”, or when we affirm our 4th principle, “a free and responsible search for truth and meaning”. This religious DNA drives our congregation’s support of individual spiritual practice and growth.

You see, this foundational core of our belief system requires that we not only work for religious tolerance in the outside world, but that we practice religious freedom within our very religion itself.

And that is good news. That is a saving message that people, whether secular or spiritual, need in our world today.

It demands that we proactively invite people into a place of spiritual exploration without creedal requirements. It compels us to evangelize. Now, I know this idea of UUs evangelizing is controversial. Nonetheless, I will risk being branded a heretic even among Unitarian Universalists by advocating for evangelizing!

Evangelizing is controversial because we’re afraid of it. We don’t even like the word. For many of us, rightly or wrongly, it carries connotations of an irrational, overly emotional form of religious worship; of fundamentalism and restrictive dogma; of conversion and coercion, promises of heaven and threats of eternal hell.

Those of you who are Star Trek nerds like me will understand when I say that the evangelism practiced by the small-town Baptist church I grew up in felt more like a “church of the Borg” – “Resistance is futile. Freedom is irrelevant. You will be assimilated.”

We are also afraid of evangelism, because if we bring to the world our good news (what evangelize means by the way), people might just join us, we might just grow, and growth means change and change can be scary. We are afraid of it because we are much better at talking about what we do not believe than what we do believe. But what we do not believe is not a saving message. Taking about what we do believe takes a lot more courage, but we might start practicing it with our UU principles or our churches’ values: “We find meaning in acceptance of one another, justice, equity, the right of conscience and the use of the democratic process.”

“We believe there is eternal beauty in transcendence, community, compassion, courage and transformation.”

“We find there is God in the inherent worth and dignity of every person; in the interdependent web of existence of which we are a part.”

Wherever your personal beliefs meet those of our shared religion, that is our faith. Our core values, our religious DNA, will not allow us to keep it to ourselves. As the President of our denomination Rev. Peter Morales so aptly demonstrated in a recent sermon, there is a tremendous need for a safe community within which to explore life’s deeper questions.

After I found this church, I realized that I have been a Unitarian Universalist all of my life and just had never known it. I’ll bet many of you had the same experience or have heard the same thought expressed. Sometimes, we seem almost proud of this, but I think it is heartbreaking. I wonder how many more people have never found community with us because they have never heard of us; never heard from us.

If we were to evangelize, if we were to radiate the light from that chalice out beyond these walls and into our community and our world with our saving message of religious freedom, hope, dignity, peace, love, justice, compassion — the sacred beauty of shared existence, well, we might just transform the world, reclaim this paradise we have been given. Here. And now.

And that is what terrifies us the most.

“How DARE we dream that?” we ask ourselves. We dare it because our most deeply held values compel us to do so. We have the spiritual courage. It is in our religious DNA.

The Joy of Giving

by Posted in Audio available, Guest Speakers, Sermons

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Nell Newton

October 10, 2010

Click the play button to listen.

Prayer:

After performing the miracle of the loaves and fishes, Jesus and his disciples made a quick get away in a boat to leave the Pharisees to themselves. Once in the boat, the disciples realized that someone had forgotten to grab one of the seven baskets of extra bread, and there was now only one loaf of bread among them. While Jesus warned them against the leaven of the Pharisees and of Herod, the disciples got fixated on their one loaf of bread. Jesus was not impressed. “Were you not paying attention? Do not you yet see or understand?”

Now, you and I do not perform miracles. If there is a great crowd who have nothing to eat, we cannot break apart seven loaves and expect more than crumbs to reach every mouth.

So instead, let us gather the flour and water to bake more bread. Let us share our leavening among our neighbors. And let our efforts fill the hungry empty places in our world with love.

Great Spirit, I ask that we might each know the comforting weight of a small smooth stone in our pocket, waiting for its chance to become soup.

I ask this in the name of every thing that is holy, and that is precisely every thing.

Amen

Sermon:

Have I told anyone recently how much I enjoy being the past president of our church? It’s really quite nice. As past president, I attend all of the board meetings, but don’t have a vote. Instead I simply serve as advisor and offer insight when asked. And if anything goes kaboom, I genially defer to our current president Eric Stimmel who will smilingly attend to the clean up. It’s really very relaxing. And it’s allowing me more time to do other things that I enjoy around the church, like washing dishes, greeting guests, and assisting with our worship.

+++++++

From an imaginary posting on a website for Unitarian Universalist ministers:

“Fun-loving, plus-sized church seeks compatible minister for long-term commitment and growth. Turn-ons: stimulating Sunday morning chats and community engagement. Turn-offs: Calvinism and put-downs. Must like self and others. Ability to nurture souls, transform lives, and do justice a plus. Please, only serious inquiries.”

Or, so that is how I imagine how it might read if our search for a settled minister read like a personals ad.

Instead our Settled Minister Search Committee is preparing a detailed congregational report and a fat packet of information that will make the rounds of ministers in search. Many will pore over it and try to imagine what it might be like if they came here. Some will quickly realize they are not up to the challenge, but several will lean forward and re-read some sections excitedly and wonder “What would it be like to be with First Church Austin?”

But, let’s back up a bit…

Susan Smith is our district executive overseeing the Unitarian Universalist churches in the southwest, and in a conversation she explained that in some ways the relationship between a minister and congregation is a bit like a marriage. It is a covenantal relationship, with shared goals and mutual respect. Like actual marriages, the joys are mixed with tough spots – but the agreement to stand in right relationship with one another helps keep both partners on track.

And, like actual marriages, the relationships generally end in either death or divorce. At the end of our last settled ministry, some of us wondered if we would ever feel such a connection again. Others felt we might not even deserve such connection. And still others were ready to find someone new right away.

But, have you ever been on a date with someone who is on the rebound? Over a plate of otherwise good fettucine, you get hear about that person’s last love’s awful habits or endearing charms, and then all of the disappointments, betrayals, and bitterness that accompanied their parting. It’s enough to put you off your pasta.

Congregations can behave much the same way, which is why the advisors from the Unitarian Universalist Association recommended we spend at least two years with interim ministers before calling our next settled minister. We were encouraged to play the field, so to speak, before making a serious commitment. Bring some new voices into the pulpit – they told us. Try out new ways of doing things, take some classes, look hard at some old habits, and dream about your future!” And that is exactly what we’ve been busy doing for the past 18 months.

But all along, we have been looking forward to finding a special someone to share our dreams and journey with.

Unlike in other denominations, our congregations and ministers do not have arranged marriages. Our ministers aren’t sent down from a central authority. There is no bishop to play matchmaker. Instead, like modern marriages, UU congregations and ministers choose one another after careful consideration. So, into the documents the search committee has prepared, they have compiled our most appealing attributes, but have also been frank about our weaknesses. Yes, we’re attractive, but we’re also modest, and good company.

The report and packet are almost ready, and they will be sent out by the end of this month. They tell a rich story, and you are all in there! Your dreams are included in there because you’ve already given so much of yourselves. You participated in groups to build our covenant, name our weaknesses, define our values, and shape our mission. You completed a survey of what is important to you in a minister. Your voices will come through loud and clear to anyone who will read through the pages. Many thanks to our Settled Minister Search Committee for the hours they spent compiling them. I know they will represent us well.

Now, like a small town, in our small denomination news travels fast and most of the ministers know that First Church Austin is entering into search. Some have been waiting to see our documents for a long time. “Would it work out between us?” they wonder.

There are several months of more work ahead for the Search Committee. They will read many packets posted by ministers in search. They will listen to countless sermons. They will eventually travel to see the strongest candidates preach and have many conversations. By next spring it is likely they will recommend a candidate for us to consider.

What do the rest of us do in the meantime? Well, there are a few specific things we can do – keep up with the self improvement – our leadership development classes, our move to policy-based governance. And, while this might not be an arranged marriage, there are a few traditional touches that it is time to attend to. Namely, the trousseau and the dowry.

Like birds and mammals that line their nests by pulling fluff from their own breasts, this fall we will be making a nice soft, warm budget to hold our vision and welcome our new minister.

Now, in traditional communities, there are uncles and aunties who make sure that a good arrangement is made, and they will put up the extra resources to seal the deal. While the bride-to-be weaves and sews the linens she will need as a wife, the extended family sets aside extra resources to give the new couple a good start. One uncle provides a few extra goats, another buys a modern stove for the couple’s home. Aunties sew coins onto the ceremonial garments and set aside extra food for the feast. With all these preparations, family alliances are secured, and everyone deepens their commitment to the community.

We are now in the middle of our stewardship campaign, and each of us has the chance to be the aunties and uncles whose commitment to the community will seal the deal. Several of us have already dug a little deeper than usual to make our congregation’s next budget look healthy and attractive. The search committee’s documents will include a proposed budget based upon the results of the stewardship campaign. You can be sure that interested candidates will look closely at that detail. And who would really want us if our budget were scrawny and underfunded?

Are you in? Will you set aside a few extra goats? Will you help stuff grape leaves for the feast? Will you raise your pledge a bit to secure your family’s alliance, and deepen your commitment to this union?

Ask yourself: What will you bring to the feast and are you ready to be fed?

Benediction:

Ean Huntington Behr

You are in the story of the world.

You are the world coming to know itself.

May you trust that all you will ever say or do

Belongs in the story of the world.

Salvation – A UU View

by Posted in Audio available, Guest Speakers, Mark Skrabacz, Sermons

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Rev. Mark Skrabacz

August 29, 2010

Yesterday was the 47th anniversary of Dr. Martin Luther King’s “I Have Dream Speech.” He gave his soul-stirring message to 200,000 on the Washington Mall in what has been called the crowning moment of the Civil Rights Movement. It was ranked the top American speech of the 20th century by a 1999 poll of scholars of public address.

I suppose you know that yesterday Fox Network Commentator Glenn Beck held a Tea Party Rally on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. Beck says Christians should leave their social justice churches. He says social justice is a code word for communism and nazism. I don’t know if Beck is just strange, or just trying to be controversial, or just trying to make money. But in any case, what he has said attacks the very heart of Dr. King’s message and of the Christian faith, and I wonder how many Christians will express their faith by no longer watching his show, and even decrying his rally, since Beck denies one of the central teachings of the Bible, and Jesus and Dr. King — that of social justice.

Of course Unitarian Universalism is largely a social justice advocacy movement. The fact that we meet as a church and in a church building just might cause many of our neighbors to wonder exactly what it is our church believes. No doubt some of us have searched for ways to express our UU experiences and, hence, I continue to speak about our roots, practices and understandings. No doubt our UU views can appear as disperate as the contrast between Dr. King and Glenn Beck. Today, I’m going to entertain the notion of a controversial topic, that of salvation, salvation from a UU View.

Are you saved? This is a question that is usually only asked by evangelical Christians. What, if anything, might a Unitarian Universalist answer?

If we’re feeling facetious we might be tempted to respond with something like this, “Saved from what? or Saved for what? or Saved by whom, or what? ” But those answers might end the conversation. And if, like me, you believe that Unitarian Universalism has something marvelous to offer a tired and troubled world, you might want the conversation to continue. I would instead offer something like “Yes, I’m saved, but I’m not sure we mean the same thing. What do you mean when you say saved?” And I would ask the person to tell me his or her salvation story. And then I would tell mine.

Because you see, I am saved, just not in the same way fundamentalist Christians mean. That is the reason I am here in this pulpit today, proclaiming with enthusiasm the good news. So what do I, a Unitarian Universalist, mean by salvation?

Well, part of my answer has to do with theology, and goes back to our roots in Universalism and Unitarianism. In America, both began as reactions against the prevailing orthodox Calvinist doctrines of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. These said that human beings were “totally depraved,” with no free will and no ability to make choices that would bring good into the world. The God of Calvin and many Biblical literalists had elected from the beginning of time which humans would be saved and which would be damned to suffer in a fiery hell for all eternity. Jesus was crucified and died in order to pay the penalty for the sins of the elect. The way to know whether a person was one of the elect, who would be saved and resurrected in the new and perfect world that God would create at the end of time, was to read the “signs.” One of these signs had to do with how much material wealth a person had; prosperity was therefore a sign of election. Perhaps this theology describes part of Glenn Beck’s view of what a true Christian should be about? There would be no need for social justice if humans were merely pawns in God’s chess game of life. Besides who could possibly do good and just things for another when only God can effect such goodness?

Two of our best known Universalist preachers were John Murray and Hosea Ballou, in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. They could not accept the Calvinist conception of God. For them, God was a good and loving father. This God would no more condemn any of his creatures to an eternal fiery hell than a loving parent would place a child in an earthly fire. Further, a God who would require the cruel and tortured death of a beloved son as atonement for the sins of some of humanity was not fit for our worship. Ballou argued that God’s purpose was to “happify” people, sending Jesus to teach us by example how to live a happy, healthy and holy life. If we lived in accordance with God’s purposeÑto love God and God’s creation and one another, yes, and practice social justiceÑwe would be happy. If we did notÑif we lived, instead, separated from God and from each otherÑwe would be unhappy. We, ourselves, would create our own heaven and hell here on earth.

Now, here is what I think is the essence of Ballou’s theology, the part that rings as true today as it did two centuries ago. And this very same idea was argued by Unitarians William Ellery Channing and, a generation later, Theodore Parker. It is this: what we need to be saved from is not original sin, and not the fiery pits of hell. What we need to be saved from is the concept of the angry, vengeful God who redeems humanity through violence and divides people into the saved and the damned. Ballou, Channing, and Parker argued that since people model their own behavior on what they imagine God to be, this concept of a wrathful, bloodthirsty God results in earthly hell. It results in the division of people into the worthy and the worthless, and it sanctifies violence against and oppression of those deemed to be worthless. This theology causes people to live in and from fear. A theology of a loving God would enable people to live in and from love.

Ralph Waldo Emerson put it this way: “It behooves us to be careful in what we worship, for what we are worshipping is what we are becoming.” For Ballou, the critical thing was to liberate people from fear so they could live in love. And fear resided in what Ballou called the carnal mind, by which he meant in the body. Fear resided in the body. So Universalist thinking in the nineteenth century made salvation not about where our individual, personal souls go after we dieÑthat was a non-issue. Instead, salvation was a collective enterprise. In both Universalism and Unitarianism, this enterprise meant attending to conditions in the here and now, in this world. If we could liberate people’s bodies from fear of hunger and violence, they could live in love.

We North American UUs can proudly remember the heroes and heroines of our heritage of social justice, like Benjamin Rush and his timely defense of social equality in the late 18th century. And Theodore Parker’s passionate advocacy of abolition in the mid-19th century. We remember Adin Ballou and his critique of the industrial society, and William Ellery Channing with his abhorrence of poverty. Olympia Brown was ordained into the ministry in 1863, the first denominationally ordained woman minister in the US. We remember her along with Red Cross founder Clara Barton, women’s sufferage pioneer Susan B. Anthony, and Dorothea Dix, a social justice activist on behalf of the indigent insane who, through a vigorous program of lobbying state legislatures and the United States Congress, created the first generation of American mental asylums. During the Civil War, she served as Superintendent of Army Nurses.

The UU view of salvation is for life here and now, in love. In the Gospel of John, Jesus says, “I come that they might have life, and have it abundantly.” Present-day Unitarian Universalism still reverberates with these ideas about salvation. While some of us believe in a personal deity and some do not, we agree in our covenant of seven principles that are underpinned by the following theological notions: the equal belovedness of every person, the importance of caring for this beautiful world here and now, the need to live in love and not fear.

This is part of my explanation of what I mean by salvation, but only part. Why do I say so joyfully that, yes, I am saved?

I grew up as the eldest son in a family whose Catholic roots were generations deep. Our image of God was that portrayed as the rule maker and law enforcer in the sky and of the fear of the final judgment. I began more than 20 years of formal Catholic schooling before I was 5, where I was taught that people are inherently sinful because Adam and Eve disobeyed God at the beginning of creation. Still I tried my best to be good and do everything right, but still I felt that God was angry with me and I was motivated by fear. In order to redeem myself and reach heaven someday, I must do all I could to be like Jesus. I must suffer, and forgive, suffer, and forgive. I was smart, and strong-willed, and I loved earthly things like Nature, and my friends and all things artsy, and it was hard for me to focus on getting to heaven. But I wanted more than anything to be good enough to be loved, so I did my best. I suffered and I forgave. Some fundamentalist Christians would say that this Catholic view of God is inaccurate and that basically all I have to do is accept the sacrifice of Jesus and his Lordship over my life and that all will be well, because God will only see Jesus when looking at me.

Perhaps this next part will sound familiar to many of you because this is your story too, and I have heard it from you many times. When I first began to attend a UU church in Midland during breaks from college I was overwhelmed that people cared enough to listen to me…and I didn’t have to worry about towing the party line. I found I was encouraged to develop my own ideas. This was in the late 60s and I was upset about the conflict in Vietnam and the continuing racial prejudices supposedly righted by integration, yet when I went to the UU church, I could express myself and be heard. That meant a lot to me. Sometimes I’d go to church services and just sit in the back and cry. There was a lot of stuff in my life to process, much of it from my Catholic upbringing. Then I started participating around the edges a little bit, joining demonstrations and small groups to discuss and act on social justice issues.

Finally, years later at the same Midland UU church, after my father’s death in early 1986, I started a men’s group, in which we gathered around and talked with each other and listened to our real stories. When it was my turn, I couldn’t resist being open. The other men had shared deeply, and their stories were riveting. No one had been judged, no one had been rejected. So I told my truth. And instead of turning away from me in disgust, the men leaned in and listened, nodding in recognition of what they heard. It was the first place I had ever been where I felt I could be my whole self, and be accepted for it — truly loved. My community looked into my face and saw light there, and reflected it back tenfold — a hundred fold.

In this way was I saved. Unitarian Universalism taught me that I have inherent worth and dignity, and that I am a beloved member of the interdependent web of all existence. The community that embodied this theology liberated me from fear by gathering around me in love. It gave me the ability to break out of the cycle of codependence and violence in which I was trapped for so long. I finally developed the strength and courage I needed to pursue my dreams and clarify my intentions. I also had the help I needed: my community showed up, with meals, work, rides when my car broke down. People visited me in the hospital when I had surgeries and held my hand when the stuff of life appeared bleak. This was redemptive.

Learning I was inherently lovable helped me to accept the profoundly generous love of others. Knowing all people have inherent worth and dignity helped me share my life in ways that bring me closer with others and to get upset when their freedom is limited. My community helps me create a life that is worth living. This is what I mean by salvation. This religion saves lives. And I think it can help save the world.

At this moment in time we are in the midst of economic, ecological, and political chaos that is unprecedented in our life’s experiences. We know that the sheer scale of change means that nothing will ever be the same again. We have no road map for the future. Some of us have lost many of the securities we were accustomed to. I’ve learned that whenever the human organism is confronted with sudden, potentially life-threatening change, its first response is fear. This is automatic. And right now fear is rampant in our world, as the religious fundamentalists and persons like Glenn Beck and others in many countries and many religions skillfully use apocalyptic rhetoric to manipulate people into acting from their deepest fears rather than from hope or love. This strategy has and is working very well in American debates on health care, immigration and economic reform, as people are manipulated into thinking their individual lives are endangered by changes that may actually benefit the whole.

But shall we have a little compassion for these people who ask us if we are saved? Their God would cast them into the depths of a fiery hell for all eternity if they do not believe just the right thing. They are sore afraid. They are alone and far from home; salvation for them is so individualized, and involves going to a world that is not this one. But we can offer something different in this time of crisis. We can offer real liberation from fear, and a fall into love. We can offer a theology that recognizes our interdependence with each other and with the larger community of life, in which salvation is collective and involves healing this world. We can embody this theology by doing what we do best: gathering together, and listening to each other’s stories. Singing songs, speaking words that matter and making life and art that give us hope and courage. Let’s help each other imagine what might come next. Then, show up to help.

My friends, we have here a religion that could be the salvation of the world, if we will but claim its power and take it to the streets. The stakes are too high for us to hide our light under a bushel. What do we say in the face of a culture that preaches salvation from hell and damnation? We could echo the words of John Murray, “Give them not hell, but hope”

I hope today’s message will encourage you to think, what will you say? I hope today’s message will encourage you to act, what will you do?

Abner Kneeland and Freedom of Religion

by Posted in Audio available, Guest Speakers, Luther Elmore, Sermons

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Luther Elmore

August 22, 2010

READING

“PHILOSOPHICAL CREED” (Abner Kneeland – 1833)

… I believe that the whole universe is NATURE, and that the word NATURE embraces the whole universe; that GOD and NATURE, so far as we can attach any rational idea to either, are synonymous terms. Hence, I am not an Atheist, but a Pantheist; that is, instead of believing there is no God, I believe that in the abstract, all is God; and that all power that is, is in God, and that there is no power except that which proceeds from God. I believe that there can be no will or intelligence where there is no sense; and no sense where there are no organs of sense; and hence, sense, will and intelligence, is the effect, not the cause of organization. I believe in all that logically results from these premises, whether good, bad or indifferent. Hence, I believe, that God is all in all; and that it is in God we live, move, and have our being; and that the whole duty of man consists in living as long as he can, and in promoting as much happiness as he can while he lives.

SERMON

Freedom of religion is a concept that we in America claim to have achieved and practice. Is that true? Do we have freedom of religion, legally and socially, and do we as a society really believe in it?

In this country we have a long history of religious intolerance. The early colonists in Massachusetts Bay certainly did not believe in freedom of religion. Thousands came to America in the 1630s and 1640s to escape religious restrictions in England, but once they arrived in New England, they did not allow it. Religious doctrine and practices were established and non-conformists were punished.

By 1648 the colony had organized its laws into an alphabetized code called the “Lawes and Liberties.” These Lawes and Liberties specified rights and responsibilities as well as penalties. For instance, Baptists or anyone else who “openly condemn(ed) or oppose(ed) the baptizing of infants” were banished. The law also provided for the banishment of Catholic priests. If a banished priest returned, upon a second conviction he was “put to death.” You could also be banished for denying the immortality of the soul or the resurrection of the body, or that mankind was not justified by Jesus’ death and resurrection.

These restrictive laws continued throughout the colonial era into the early years of American independence. In 1782 – with independence not yet won – the state of Massachusetts made it illegal to “blaspheme the holy name of God… his creation, government or final judging of the world…or the Holy Ghost, or…the Holy Word of God.” Punishment could be up to one year in jail.

Of course, the first amendment to the US Constitution adopted in 1791 provided that “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof…” Early on the Supreme Court interpreted this amendment literally, that is CONGRESS shall make no law, states – if they chose – could, and regularly did.

Into this world of laws and intolerance, Abner Kneeland was born in 1774. Born in Massachusetts, at about age 21 he moved to Vermont, worked as a carpenter, taught school, and served as a Baptist lay preacher. He came across universalist writings, met Hosea Ballou, and became a universalist. At the age of 31 (1805) Kneeland was ordained as a Universalist minister and called as the settled minister in Langdon, New Hampshire. He became active in the New England Universalist General Convention, serving as its standing clerk and as its treasurer. He also served two years in the New Hampshire Legislature. Along with Hosea Ballou he compiled a universalist hymnal, with Kneeland writing 130 of the 410 songs. (Our hymnal has none of them). He subsequently served churches in Charlestown, Massachusetts, Whitestown, New York, Philadelphia (1818) and in 1825 (1825-1827) Prince Street Church in New York City.

During this time, he was as busy as a bee. He served his churches, published a second hymnal, published a new spelling book (The American Pronouncing Spelling Book) which used phonetics and removed all silent letters, edited a monthly magazine (The Philadelphia Universalist Magazine and Christian Messenger) and completed a translation of the Greek New Testament.

Kneeland’s social thought also began to change and he became in the eyes of some a radical. He met and became supportive of the utopian socialist Robert Owen. Owen was a wealthy Scottish industrialist who had made a fortune in cotton mills, but came to see problems in the newly emerging industrial society. Owen called for small socialist communities where people would combine agricultural and manufacturing enterprises, live in prosperity and harmony, and avoid the ravages of a changing world. He purchased 20,000 acres on the banks of the Wabash River in Indiana and established New Harmony. By 1825 about 800 people were living in his new community. Within 2 years New Harmony had failed, but not Owens’ idea. Across America up to 20 Owenite communities were established, including one on the Red River in Texas. But Owen had caused a stir in addressing the inequalities of wealth and the problems of the early 19th century

A friend and fellow traveler with Owen in his radicalism was Francis “Fanny” Wright. In her early 20s, she visited the United States from Scotland and eventually became a US citizen. Concerned with the situation of slavery in America, in 1825 she established an interracial communal society in Tennessee, named Nashoba, where slaves were purchased and then allowed to work off the purchase price of their freedom. As you might imagine, this interracial community in Tennessee was not well received in the South. Rumors circulated of interracial sex, marriage, and free love at Nashoba. On July 4, 1828, Wright shocked much of America when she publicly spoke at a mixed meeting at New Harmony. Like Owen, Wright backed the abolition of slavery, universal suffrage, equal rights for women, public education and cooperative care for all children, and birth control. Wright also attacked capitalism, greed, and religion, becoming known as “the red harlot of infidelity.” Kneeland embraced the radical proposals of Owen and Wright and in 1828 had Fanny Wright speak from his pulpit.

Wright and Owen organized The Association for the Protection of Industry and the Promotion of National Education, a group that sought to establish “state guardianship” of children. Here all children in the country would be fed, clothed, and educated at public expense. Abner Kneeland became president of the association.

Opposition to Kneeland within Universalist churches increased. Many passed resolutions denouncing him as one of their ministers. At the time Universalists themselves were under attack with many conservative Christians fearing their message of universal salvation. After all the thinking went, if there is no punishment in the afterlife for an immoral and licentious life, why should humankind be restrained from living the most immoral life imaginable? This mindset was so pervasive that the state of Connecticut passed a law in 1828 that testimony by Universalists in court was not to be accepted. In May of 1829, having served as a Universalist minister for over 20 years, at the age of 54 Kneeland resigned from the pulpit of his church, never to return to the Universalist fold.

He did not, however, abandon his public career. He moved to Boston and established the First Society of Free Enquiry. The Society of Free Enquiry had Sunday and Wednesday services and both soon drew about 2,000 people. One attendee described the sermons as tending to “ridicule the Christian religion to persuade the congregation that there is no God, no future life, no soul.” Instead of reading from the Bible, Kneeland often read passages from Voltaire or Thomas Paine. On one occasion he read a passage from the Biblical book of Leviticus, passages referring to women’s menstrual cycle and a women being unclean for 7 days. Kneeland screamed in response, “that is not true: women are not unclean anytime. They say this is a good book. I don’t think it is a very good book at all in its attitudes toward women.” He then hurled his Bible down the center aisle where it slammed against the back doors. The Wednesday evening services were festive occasions of singing and dancing. As you might imagine, these antics shocked much of Boston.

Almost immediately upon arriving in Boston Kneeland had also begun to print a newspaper, “The Boston Intelligencer.” He stated that the paper would support the abolition of slavery, the rights of women, public education, and the rights of the laboring classes. Soon it had 2,000 subscribers.

In the second issue Kneeland published a “Marriage Cathecism” which read in part: Q: How long is the marriage vow, covenant, or contract, binding on the parties: A: As long as it exists, let that be longer or shorter. It is morally and virtually binding so long as it is productive of the happiness of the parties immediately concerned and no longer.” A few months later Kneeland wrote that women should have equal rights, even extending to equal pay, stating that “women’s wages should be exactly, per week, per day, or per hour the same as those of men.”

He even supported interracial marriage. In August of 1831 he wrote, “The basic principle of society should be the perfect equality as to rights and privileges, totally regardless of sex, and now I will go one step further, and say, totally regardless of color…What! To marry each other: YES, to marry, if they love or fancy each other.”

In addition, to his radical social positions, in front page headlines, he offered a $1,000 reward to any clergyman who could prove to his satisfaction that Jesus had ever existed and that the four Gospels of the New Testament had truly been written by four men named Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.

Kneeland continued to invite controversial individuals to speak from his pulpit. When William Lloyd Garrison – the polarizing abolitionist – moved to Boston to begin printing his abolitionist paper “The Liberator,” the first place he gave a lecture in Boston was from Kneeland’s lectern. Garrison would later write, “It was left for a society of avowed infidels…not by any of the Christian ministers or churches of Boston…to save the city from the shame of sealing all its doors against the slave’s advocate.”

After two years of a very successful but controversial public presence in Boston, in 1833 he published his “Philosophical Creed.” As was read earlier, he stated, “I believe that the whole universe is nature, and that the word nature embraces the whole universe; that God and nature…are synonymous terms. Hence I am not an atheist, but a Pantheist.” Thus, he clearly separated himself from Christians in Boston.

Within a few weeks Universalist minister and editor Thomas Whittemore challenged Kneeland in his magazine “The Trumpet” and Kneeland responded. Kneeland’s letter to Whittemore was published on December 20, 1833, in the “Boston Intelligencer.” Kneeland wrote:

Dear Sir: You observed to me the other day, that people still consider me a Universalist, and said to me that “if you will acknowledge that you are not, I will publish it.” I told you, in substance that in some respects I am still a Universalist; but that in others, I am not… I still hold to universal philanthropy, universal benevolence, and universal charity, in these respects, I am still a Universalist. Neither do I believe in punishment after death; so in this also I agree with the Universalists. But as it respects all other of their religious notions in relation to another world, or a supposed other state of conscious existence, I do not believe in any of them; so that in this respect, I am no more a Universalist that I am an orthodox Christian. As for instance: 1. Universalists believe in a god which I do not; but believe that their god, with all his moral attributes (aside from nature itself,) is nothing more than a chimera of their own imagination. 2. Universalists believe in Christ, which I do not; but believe that whole story concerning him is as much a fable and a fiction as that of the god Promotheus… 3. Universalists believe in miracles, which I do not; but believe that every pretension to them can either be accounted for on natural principles, or else is to be attributed to mere trick and imposture. 4. Universalists believe in the resurrection of the dead, in immortality and eternal life, which I do not: but believe that all life is mortal; that death is an eternal extinction of life to the individual who possesses it, and that no individual life is, ever was or ever will be eternal. Hence, as Universalists no longer wish to consider me as belonging to their order, as it relates to a belief in things unseen, I hope the above four articles will be sufficient to distinguish me from them and them from me…

Ultimately, that statement…”Universalists believe in a God which I do not” would lead to a trial with Kneeland being convicted and sentenced to jail for 60 days for blasphemy. He would become the last man sentenced to a jail term in this country for this crime.

Between 1834 and 1838 Abner Kneeland would undergo five separate trials for various charges relating to his blasphemy. One of those charges involved articles he had reprinted in his paper what had previously appeared in the Owens – Wright journal “Free Inquiry.” The most shocking article compared beliefs among various peoples. It said, “A Parisian would be surprised to hear that the Hottentots cut out one of the testicles of every little boy; and a Hottentot would be surprised to hear that the Parisians leave every little boy with two. Neither the Parisian nor the Hottentot is astonished at the practice of the other because he finds it unreasonable, but because he finds it differs from his own. The Frenchman will ask why the Hottentots allow their boy’s but one testicle, but that same Frenchman, though he be too stupid to understand the laws of evidence, or too illiterate to apply them to history, firmly believes that Jesus Christ was begotten without any testicles at all.”

This reference to the testicles of Jesus was considered so shocking by four of the five judges that they would not let the passage even be read in court.

The second item was from Kneeland’s paper and ridiculed contemporary concepts of prayer. That article, said in part: “Think of the prayers that are offered up every Lord’s Day in this country…one is asking for one thing, another for another, one for rain, another for dry weather; one for an east wind, another for a west wind…Only think of it seriously for one minute…and then say whether you think it possible that there is such a prayer-hearing and prayer-answering god…? Superstition may answer in the affirmative; philosophy will answer in the negative.”

The most serious charge by far was his letter to Thomas Whittemore in which he proclaimed that he no longer believed in God.

His defense against these charges should make any trial lawyer proud. As far as the reprinted articles were concerned, his lawyer argued that, as a matter of fact, opponents of Kneeland had reprinted the articles themselves to help build a case against him. So, if the act of publishing the articles was the crime, how had those individuals escaped trial?

Kneeland also argued that he had been out of town when the articles were printed, that they had been printed in error, and that he obviously had nothing to do with their publication because they contained spelling errors and that he would never have allowed that.

Kneeland also defended his letter to Thomas Whittemore. In this case he argued punctuation. His statement to Whittemore was “Universalists believe in a God which I do not.” That is, he did not believe in the SAME god as the Universalists. Had he meant to deny the total existence of God, he would have placed a comma after god, making the sentence read, “Universalists believe in a God, (comma) which I do not.” He also proclaimed that not only did he not believe in the God of the Universalists, neither did the members of the jury. After all, they believed in eternal damnation and punishment and the Universalists did not. Nevertheless, Kneeland was convicted and a series of appeals followed, ending in a fifth trial before the Massachusetts Supreme Court which heard the case in 1836. The Supreme Court handed down its decision two years later. On his 64th birthday Abner Kneeland was called before the court to hear that the previous guilty verdict was upheld and that the accused was sentenced to 60 days in jail.

On June 18, 1838, gray-haired, 64 year old Abner Kneeland began his sentence for blasphemy in the Boston common jail. Released on August 17, he was greeted by a cheering crowd of 300 people. Although his release caused a temporary stir, the huge crowds at his gatherings began to drift away. By the following April he announced in his paper that his free inquiry group was to be disbanded and that his supporters should “just go to some Unitarian meeting, for the sake of being in the fashion.”

Kneeland was headed west. By May he was in Iowa, trying to establish a new free thought community he named Salubria. He purchased 230 acres, built a home, and advertised for like-minded thinkers. Only about 10 other families would move to Salubria and the community did not grow as he had hoped. They were accepted in the surrounding area, with one neighbor merely saying that the inhabitants at the community just read a lot of books. Kneeland taught school briefly, became chair of the Van Buren County Democrats, and ran unsuccessfully for the state legislature. In August of 1844 at the age of 70 Abner Kneeland died.

So, where do we stand 166 years after the death of this Universalist minister and social critic? Have we left behind the mindset and statutes that in 1838 would send a man to jail for 60 days due to his beliefs and statements? In 1961 (Torcaso v Watkins) the US Supreme Court ruled that there can be no religious test for any office. Although I know of no one who has been tried for blasphemy recently, several states still have statutes on their books -although they have no legal standing- that allow discrimination in religious beliefs and practices. These states include Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Tennessee, North Carolina and Texas. The North Carolina law is especially of interest to us UUs. It provides “The following persons shall be disqualified for office. First, any person who shall DENY the being of Almighty God.” In Asheville, North Carolina, journalist Cecil Bothwell, a member of the Unitarian Universalist Church of Asheville, was elected to the city council. He was sworn into office using an affirmation that did not include an oath to God or a Bible. Some local citizens tried unsuccessfully to have him removed from office due to the religious clause in the state constitution. The local newspaper in a satirical cartoon referred to Bothwell as our “Village Atheist.” With this unexpected notoriety, Mr. Bothwell now often travels to UU churches throughout the Southeast telling his story.

Even our own state of Texas has an exclusionary clause in the state constitution that has never been removed. It states, “No religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office, or public trust, in this state; nor shall any one be excluded from holding office on account of his religious sentiments, PROVIDED he acknowledge the existence of a Supreme Being.” Anyone who denies the existence of a supreme being, therefore, cannot hold public office in Texas. However – and this is purely conjectural – if there were a move to amend the Texas Constitution and remove this phrase, what do you think would happen? What type of opposition and rhetoric would emerge? Would a majority of Texas voters remove the requirement to believe in a Supreme Being or would they vote to retain it?

Aside from the legal technicalities of freedom of religion, what about our personal actions? This summer (2010) a Muslim congregation in New York City and a developer plan to build a worship center about two blocks from the Twin Towers where the 9-11 attacks took place. Due to this being an Islamic center, a firestorm of protest has erupted. One has called this proposed building a “sacrilege.” Another has proclaimed that the center is meant to “celebrate” the 9-11 murders. According to syndicated columnist Leonard Pitts (7-22-10), Sarah Palin has called upon moderate Muslims to “refudiate” the idea, although she presumably meant that they should “repudiate” it. When President Obama defended the right of this religious community to built the center, he was attacked. Today, (August 22, 2010) there is a planned public protest in New York City to oppose this center. Some construction workers have announced that they will not work on the job.

Freedom of religion is only one part of a life of tolerance and respect for others. Freedom of religion begins with each of us, in our own hearts, with a lack of arrogance in our own beliefs, and a respect for the beliefs of others. We UUs include that concept in our Seven Principles when we affirm “the right of conscience…in society at large.” That concept is central to who we are.

Today we will have a church-wide discussion of Greg Mortensen’s fine book, Three Cups of Tea. I hope you can attend this discussion which will be led by Religious Education. Toward to end of the book, Mortensen explains why he has spent almost 20 years building schools in Pakistan and Afghanistan. He says, “What motivates me to do this? The answer is simple: When I look into the eyes of the children in Pakistan and Afghanistan, I see my own children’s eyes full of wonder-and I hope that we will each do our part to leave them all a legacy of peace instead of the perpetual cycle of violence, war, terrorism, racism, and bigotry that we adults have yet to conquer.” Freedom of religion, if truly felt in our hearts and applied to our lives, allows more than the right to believe and worship as we choose without being thrown in jail. It also helps combat religious hatred, violence, and bigotry.

Abner Kneeland was a man ahead of his times. He was a bold, but divisive, figure. During his first trial the judge asked his attorney that if the defendant was not an atheist, then what God did he believe in? The attorney retorted, “That is an affair between him and God, and not between him and your honor.” That is the way it should be. Abner Kneeland’s stand for freedom of religion in the 1830s is a message that the world still needs to hear today.

Thank you, Abner Kneeland for your beliefs and for the courage to stand your ground. Thank you for a message that the world needed to hear then and needs to hear today. Thank you for seeing more clearly than most of those about you. Thank you for standing for freedom of religion. May we do the same. Thus, let it be.

PARTING WORDS

We are taught (Matt 5:16) that no one lights a candle and hides it under a basket, but rather places it on a candlestick so that all may see. Let your light so shine that it may show the pathway to those around you. Go in love. Go in peace. Amen