The Choice is Yours, Choose Wisely

Rev. Marisol Caballero
August 3, 2014

We celebrate the closing of another Camp UU year by looking to Harry Potter and the lot from Hogwarts to teach us life lessons. We explore how the seventh principle might be understood to one of J.K. Rowling’s witches or wizards!

Call To Worship
By Amy McKenzie Quinn

Welcome to this common,
Sacred space.
Common, because we are all welcome.
Sacred, because here we transform the ordinary
And attend to the profound.
We carry with us regrets, doubts, fears, stories, laughter;
And they may inspire our worship.
Above all, may we each meet what we need most to find,
On this day, in this common, sacred space.

Reading: “Back-Scratcher”
by David Bumbaugh

The fall from grace,
The great disruption of primordial order,
The original sin, had nothing to do
With eating apples or talking with snakes.

The instrument of our fall was a wooden back-scratcher,
That piece of wood, bent at the end
So one piece can reach the unreachable spot-
There, between the shoulder blades,
Down just a little bit lower,
Now up a little bit,
There where the most persistent itch
Always takes up residence.

Before the back-scratcher,
Before that simple, infernal device,
We, like our primate kin, depended on others to do for us
What we could not do for ourselves:
“You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.”
Before the back-scratcher,
Before that simple, infernal tool,
We needed each other to scratch that unreachable itch.
The wooden back-scratcher dissolved the bonds of reciprocity,
Unloosed the ties of community,
And tempted us to believe in our own godlike self-sufficiency.

And God walked in the cool of the garden,
And saw a primate standing alone.
“What have you done,” God asked, “that you stand alone?”
I have found a back-scratcher,” said the beast,
and now I need no one.”
“Poor beast,” said God, “now you must leave this garden:
In Eden, no one stands alone; each depends on the others,”<

And thus began our wandering, our pacing up and down the earth,
Scratching our own itches, pretending self-sufficiency,
Trying to ignore the persistent sense of loss,
The vague yearning for a primordial order,
A world where you scratched my back and I scratched yours.
A wooden back-scratcher is poor compensation
For the gentle touch of a living hand.

Prayer
By Victoria Weinstein

Divinity is our birthright. God nods
To God from behind each of us. But let us remember, as
Mr. Emerson said, “divinity
Is behind our failures and follies also.”
In the silence that follows, let us pray
That we may notice and accept the Divinity of tiny things
The Divine of ordinary miracles
And even in the awkward mistakes.
In frivolous conversation with friends
In wordless companionship with a loved one-
In the work that seems futile one day
But resonates with meaning the next.
In the shared meal,
And the shopping list
In the peaceful sleep
In the simple procession of the [summer] days.
We pray this moment to keep tender vigil over
Our precious, imperfect lives.
To know each other as a vessel, however
cracked or broken, of the Holy.
So we may strive to recognize the indwelling
Presence of God in all people,
In all living things,
And even in ourselves.
In the silence, may we open our hearts. So may it be.
Amen.

Sermon: “The Choice is Yours, Choose Wisely”

A pregnant woman leading a group of five people out of a cave on a coast is stuck in the mouth of that cave, In a short time high tide will be upon them, and unless she is unstuck, they will all be drowned except the woman, whose head is out of the cave. Fortunately, (or unfortunately,) someone has with him a stick of dynamite, There seems no way to get the pregnant woman loose without using the dynamite which will inevitably kill her; but if they do not use it everyone else will drown. What should they do? http://psychopixi.com/misc/25-moral-dilemmas/

In real life, our ethical dilemmas are usually nowhere near the drama of this story. Without realizing it, we make hundreds of ethical decisions in an average day. Should I let my neighbor know that their teen snuck out late last night? Should I consider placing my aging parent in a nursing home? Should I submit a project I know to be sub-par? Should I laugh at a racist joke to fit in? Should I spend the extra money to buy organic, free-range groceries or give that money to charity? Should I give my spare change to that panhandler?

Jesuit ethicist, Thomas Shanks, tells us that, “Most people would indeed like to live an ethical life and to make good ethical decisions, but there are several problems. One, we might call the everyday stumbling blocks to ethical behavior. Consider these: My small effort won’t really make a difference. People may think badly of me. It’s hard to know the right thing to do. My pride gets in the way. It may hurt my career. It just went by too quickly. There’s a cost to doing the right thing.

Shanks goes on, “Now, how would you respond if your own children were the ones making these excuses for their behavior? Oh, Mom, what I do won’t really make a difference. Dad, I just didn’t know what to do. Grandma, my friends won’t like me. I won’t get invited to anybody’s home. I know I’ll just never date again.”

It has been awhile since I took that undergraduate ethics class, but with a small amount of refreshing, I became reacquainted with every manner of philosophical theory ever written by a long-dead guy on the subject. Immanuel Kant, wrote about our free will, which separates people from things. Moral behavior is that which does not inhibit or harm the free will of another individual. I am not sure how Kant would respond to the pregnant woman stuck in the cave, To blow her up would surely inhibit her free will, and we can safely assume that to not do so would inhibitthe free will of the tour group as they drown.

John Stuart Mill and Jeremy Bentham’s utilitarianism instructs us to choose the action which will provide the greater amount of good to the most people and will produce the least harm. Mill and Bentham would have us do away with the pregnant woman posthaste and allow the majority to survive.

Over 2,000 years ago, Plato, Aristotle, and Cicero all wrote of the common-good approach. Though less individualistic than the previous two, the common-good approach to ethical decision making calls us to reflect on our place within a society and asks us to consider how our actions and governmental policies affect everyone. This has proven to be a task easier said than done in a capitalist society, When the bottom dollar is the final word, usually the “haves” remain having and the “have- nots” continue to not have. While the Grecian greats make it sound good on paper, I am not sure that imperial antiquity was altogether that utopian, either.

However, Aristotle also wrote about another criteria by which we might base our morality- the justice approach. If we ask, “How fair is this action?,” we must analyze the level of discrimination or bias toward an individual or group over another before acting. This is an approach that is popular, at least in theory, with Unitarian Universalists, who pride ourselves on our social justice activism, leveling the playing field. Aristotle was right on to something when he said, “equals should be treated equally and unequals unequally.” I’ve observed the problem within UU ranks of a great denial with regard to who among us are treated unequally.

Although Unitarian Universalists don’t share a creed or a hard doctrine, we do have a set of guiding principles that each member congregation of the Unitarian Universalist Association agrees to affirm and promote. When misunderstood as a creed by another name, UU’s will often argue the exact language of the Seven Principles until they are blue in the face. The vague, poetic language of the Principles is not for everyone. But, what each of the Principles points to is a deeply held virtue that we do tend to have in common. More than any other technique, UU’s will often, over time, begin to employ a virtues approach to ethical decision making.

Our Seventh Principle refers to the “respect for the interconnected web of existence of which we are a part,” On Friday, I shed my skin as Rev, Mari and took on the role of Professor Hagrida, Chair of the Care of Magical Creatures department at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I had a great time dressing up in a silly costume and leading five classes of campers in a spiderweb-weaving craft. I enjoyed telling the kids that spiders are magical creatures not only because they protect us from biting insects and produce silk, a material that has a strength-to-density ratio that exceeds that of steel. Spiders are magical because they spin webs to not only serve themselves, but to leave as reminders to witches and wizards, the only ones in the know to interpret such signs, that we are all connected. We are all part of an interconnected web of existence that we cannot see, we can only feel and acknowledge by our actions.

As I often do, I began to wonder about how and why we came to understand our interconnectedness through the metaphor of a web. Words intrigue me. Rev. Ann Schranz once preached, “I am not the first to note that spider webs exist as a way to trap tasty morsels of food. A web is a weapon. Also, the typical web exists on a plane; it is flat. There is no hierarchy of wholeness, not even a healthy hierarchy (in contrast to a “dominator hierarchy”). The philosopher Ken Wilber might call something like this “flatland.” I do not see myself as part of a “web” of existence. The “web” metaphor is not sophisticated enough to point to the nature of existence.” I don’t suffer from this same affliction, though I respect her opinion, As much as UU’s everywhere love a good semantics free-for-all, I’m not sure that we split hairs too much in Texas over poetic license. This is a place where we all know what someone means when they proclaim that, “That dog don’t hunt.” And we understand that when someone says that another city is, “not a far drive at all,” we should ring plenty of road snacks and leave first thing in the morning,

Nonetheless, curiosity led me to discover that a spider web as metaphor for our interconnectedness and implied ethical responsibility to each other and our world has no known origin. According to Fritjof Capra’s book, “The Web of Life: a New Scientific Understanding of Living Systems, “The “web of life” is, of course, an ancient idea, which has been used by poets, philosophers, and mystics throughout the ages to convey their sense of interwovenness and interdependence of all phenomena. One of the most beautiful expressions is found in the celebrated speech attributed to Chief Seattle,”

This we know, all things are connected like the blood which unites one family… Whatever befalls the earth, befalls the sons and daughters of the earth, [A person] did not weave the web of life; [they] are merely a strand in it, Whatever [they] do to the web, [they] do to [themselves.]

So, in this way, spiders really are magical creatures who leave reminders of our interconnectedness to those who know how to interpret their meaning. Not to beat this metaphor to death, because surely there are many flaws within it – poetry, after all, is not meant to be precise but to point us to a truth that we are then to discover for ourselves. But, if we are to understand ourselves as mere strands within the web of life, then each point of connection is as important as any other and each strand is crucial to the overall strength of the web.

Why, then, do we feel less of a moral obligation toward those across the world from us than those across the street? Moral psychologist Joshua Greene argues that the notion that morality is mostly common sense and following our gut instincts doesn’t work so well when we are considering a global ethics. Greene says that we are biologically and culturally wired to understand right from wrong with regard to our local group, our “tribe.”. In other words, “evolution didn’t equip us for modern judgements.” Our intuition is sewed to care more for those in close proximity and similarity to us. The farther away we perceive an ethical dilemma to be, the more unrealistic we believe our ability to effect change – or, the more “other” we imagine a people to be, the less likely we are to devote energy to acting. Our moral compasses seem to have a harder time navigating in an increasingly small world. Our brains seem more comfortable thinking in the “us vs. them” binary, despite the intentions of our bleeding hearts.

Enter, the world of Harry Potter. The character of J.K. Rowling’s creation and his trials at Hogwarts school reads like a modern-day morality play. Though not without flaws, Harry continually proves that, given the option, he will choose to do what’s right over what is easy.

This character’s example has inspired books, college courses, and serious academic analysis, In tier essay, “Moral Fibre and Outstanding Courage: Harry Potter’s Ethic of Courage as a Paradigm for the Muggle World,” Eliana Ionoaia writes, “Harry’s authentic courage comes from his valuing of other people’s lives even beyond his own; he feels strongly about his friends; he truly appreciates freedom, and seems to possess an inner compass pointing to justice.” Paradoxically, she points out that Potter’s tragic flaw lies in his difficulty in asking for help or vocalizing his own needs. He feels responsible to the web of life but does not feel worthy of being cared for in return. I’m sure this is relatable to many of us.

With such a fine example as the Harry Potter books toward virtues-based ethical decision making, it’s no wonder that our Hogwarts Camp UU has been such a success in teaching young campers what it means to be UU. In fact, “a study published in the journal of Applied Social Psychology found that J.K. Rowling’s books have been helping fight prejudice by altering young people’s perception towards stigmatized groups,” such as immigrants and LGBT people.

Ethical decision making is not something we finish learning about in adolescence, it is something that we must practice and explore until our last days. This year, Dr. Andy Gerhart will be teaching a course for adults based on the Tapestry of Faith curriculum, “What We Choose: Ethics for Unitarian Universalists.” This course will be offered on alternating Wednesday evenings, beginning September 17th. Keep your eyes out for more information in next month’s newsletter.

Perhaps our downfall has been the advent of the back-scratcher. We have become too independent and forgotten that we need one another, that we need to be taken care of as much as we need to take care of others. Thank goodness for spiderwebs and their reminder to the contrary. Thank goodness for all magical creatures and the lessons they teach us, including each and every one of us. May the magical creature in you thrive in this wonderful web of existence!

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Most sermons delivered at the First UU Church of Austin during the past 14 years are available online through this website. You will find links to them in the right sidebar menu labeled Sermons. The Indexes link leads to tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on the topic to go to a sermon.