August 26, 2007
Sometime last fall I was asked to contribute a sermon as a prize in a contest. I had forgotten all about it until Roland Chirico informed me he had won the sermon. He asked me to preach in response to a lecture delivered in 2004 by the Rev. Davidson Loehr entitled, “Why ‘Unitarian Universalism’ is Dying.” Since the lecture was three years ago, I wrote to Rev. Loehr, the minister of the First Unitarian Universalist Church of Austin, TX, to see if he still believes now what he did then. He does. He sent three long responses to me, copies of five other lectures he’s delivered on the same topic over the past decade, and he recommended some books for me to read.
Rev. Loehr is very smart. He knows theology, philosophy, and the history of religions. He is the only minister serving a Unitarian Universalist congregation who is also a Fellow in the Jesus Seminar, a collective of 200 Biblical scholars who meet regularly to discuss the latest scholarship on the historical Jesus. While I think Rev. Loehr’s analysis of our movement is at times too general, and occasionally too glib, and while I also think he would benefit from greater familiarity with the vision and experience of some of our younger ministers, not to mention our successful and growing congregations, he makes some very important claims which we ignore at our peril.
Here is my best rendition of the main points of Rev. Loehr’s analysis:
1. Unitarian Universalism is not a religion in the traditional sense. It is an association of congregations created through the consolidation in 1961 of what Loehr considers to be two “moribund” liberal Christian denominations—the American Unitarian Association and the Universalist Church of America.
2. At the time of consolidation neither denomination “had any common set of religious beliefs … beyond a general lack of interest in supernaturalism.”
3. At the time of consolidation and to this day there is no common ontology within Unitarian Universalism. That is, no distinctive and defining understanding of the human condition, its inherent problems, or the solutions to those problems. Hence there is no useful or relevant salvation story.”
4. “What was significant about [Unitarianism and Universalism] at the time of consolidation was not theological, but political. Both [denominations] had merged, to differing degrees, with the general assumptions of America’s cultural liberals.”
5. Unitarian Universalism is very good at asking what individual UUs believe. It rarely, if ever, asks the question, “what’s worth believing?”
6. As we heard in our reading from Rev. Loehr earlier, the Unitarian Universalist principles lack profundity. They come from the secular culture and secular values of American liberalism. They do not distinguish Unitarian Universalism as a religion, at least not one with a clear and compelling spiritual path or lasting spiritual insight.
“Does this begin to sketch a living faith, or a dead one?” asks Rev. Loehr. I begin my response with an appeal for patience. Although I certainly mean “let’s be patient with Rev. Loehr because we have much to learn from him,” I also ask Rev. Loehr to consider the virtue of patience—the patience necessary to bear witness to the passing of generations; the patience necessary to bear witness to the passing of centuries. Rev. Loehr is correct. While Unitarianism was (and still is) a religion—a liberal sect of Christianity—and while Universalism was (and still is) a religion—a liberal sect of Christianity—Unitarian Universalism is something new, something that had never existed before 1961, something that doesn’t meet all the criteria of a great world religion. But I contend it isn’t dying. It is still being born, still making its way down the birth canal, still seeking that first full breath of air, still awaiting that first hearty cry that says: “I am here!” Let us not confuse the darkness of death with the darkness of the womb.
Did Judaism emerge into the world, fully formed, once Abraham received God’s promise? No. It formed over the course of more than 1,000 years. Did Christianity begin with the death of Jesus? No. It was not fully codified for another 300 years. I am not well-versed in the origins of Islam, Buddhism, and Taoism, but I suspect they did not become fully formed in a few short decades, but rather took centuries to create lasting institutions, theologies, language, symbols, rituals, and structures of authority. Patience, please. The birth of a new religion takes time.
Am I assuming Unitarian Universalism will become a great world religion in the future? No. But as I survey the current global religious landscape I see the ascendancy and the world-shaping power of religious fundamentalism. Given this, I believe there are opportunities now and in the coming decades for liberal religious movements to provide life-saving—salvific!—alternatives to fundamentalism’s spirit-killing rigidity. Whether or not Unitarian Universalism becomes one of those movements depends on the decisions we make. I’m not talking about decisions to grow our churches or to grow our denomination, though those are important. I’m talking about decisions to collectively lead spiritually compelling and provocative lives; decisions to lead spirit-affirming lives, love-affirming lives, earth-affirming lives, life-affirming lives; decisions to lead community-oriented, justice-seeking lives. In making such decisions and acting on them we contribute to the long, slow birth of Unitarian Universalism.
At the time of consolidation, says Rev. Loehr, neither denomination “had any common set of religious beliefs.” He’s correct. Unitarians didn’t have a common set of religious beliefs leading up to 1961, nor did Universalists, nor did Unitarian Universalists after 1961, nor do Unitarian Universalists today, nor, I suspect, will Unitarian Universalists in the coming decades. Rev. Loehr has challenged me to consider whether a common set of beliefs is necessary for a particular assembly of spiritually-minded people to be identified as a religion. I have two thoughts.
First, I’m mindful that 200 years after the death of Jesus, Christians had no common set of religious beliefs. All through the Hebrew Scriptures the Israelites had no common set of religious beliefs. I am aware of Christian members of the same church who believe and practice radically differently from one another. I am aware of Jewish members of the same synagogue who believe and practice radically differently from one another. I am aware of Muslims—not members of the same mosque—but who nevertheless believe and practice radically differently from one another. I don’t think any religion meets this requirement of a common set of religious beliefs among its people. Yes, there is always an official belief, but let us not confuse the official belief with the actual beliefs—the wildly disparate, eclectic, privately held beliefs of those who gather for worship—beliefs that all too often remain unspoken because the risk of speaking—the risk of naming an alternative to the official belief—is too high.
Second, religion: from the Latin, re ligare, to bind back. In liberating ourselves from the requirement of adherence to ancient, human-made doctrines and professions of faith in archaic theologies, Unitarian Universalists claim the freedom to openly explore those privately-held, eclectic and wildly-disparate beliefs which reside in every religious assembly. We claim the freedom to discern and nurture what is sacred to us without fear of sanction. When we exercise that freedom with responsibility and intentionality, our souls flourish, our spirits soar, our roots strengthen and deepen. In the presence of this freedom the broken pieces of ourselves begin to bind back together, bind back to that which is most sacred. Don’t show me a commonly held set of beliefs. I don’t buy it. Show me people finding wholeness. Show me people healing. Show me people binding back. And I’ll show you religion.
Just as we don’t have a common set of religious beliefs, according to Rev. Loehr Unitarian Universalism doesn’t have a common salvation story—even one that is accountable to the findings of science—and we don’t have consensus on ontology, on the nature of the human condition and the appropriate spiritual responses to that condition. I agree, but I’m not sure how significant this is at this time. Birth is messy. Birth is painful. Birth is loud, bloody, mucky and funky. The birth of a religion takes time. I am comfortable with Unitarian Universalism’s lack of coherence when it comes to beliefs, salvation stories, ontology, and other traditional hallmarks of great religions. It is premature in our history to seek consensus on these things. For Unitarian Universalism this is an era of creativity in our collective religious life, an era of searching and experimenting, dialoguing and dancing. This is an era of birthing. Let us be as intentional and disciplined as possible. Let us also be patient, open and trusting of the birth process.
“What was significant about [Unitarianism and Universalism] at the time of consolidation,” says Rev. Loehr, “was not theological, but political.” Many of us see this trend continuing in our congregations today. When describing Unitarian Universalism to those who aren’t familiar with it, we often find it easier to describe our politics than our theology, easier to describe our social views than our spiritual practice. Rev. Loehr sees this phenomenon as a fatal flaw. I have two thoughts.
First, it is true: we often tend to unite around liberal and progressive political and social agendas more than theology and spirituality. We often forget the theological and spiritual sources of the social and political views we hold. I don’t see this as a fatal flaw. I see it as a trap we fall into. We fall into it because talking about politics, especially in such a polarized nation as ours, is easy. Expressing contempt for a morally bankrupt federal administration and cynicism at an ineffectual federal legislature are easy. Railing against the ascendancy of a conservative social agenda and proclaiming a progressive social agenda are easy. Real theology is not easy. Real spirituality is not easy. And figuring out why we believe the things we do about society and politics and then finding the language to speak it? Not easy. We are not typically educated in theology and spirituality. So we take the easier road, and suddenly Unitarian Universalism doesn’t feel like a religion. We need to start recognizing the trap before we fall into it. I have complete faith that as we mature as a liberal religious movement, as we become more sophisticated in nurturing theological reflection and spiritual practice, we will stop falling in. We will learn to let our theology and spirituality precede and form our politics rather than following as an irrelevant afterthought.
Second, I am angry at the demonization of liberalism in our time, and that liberal presidential candidates fear to refer to themselves as liberal. I am angry at the way the history of liberalism—especially economic liberalism which conservatives call Reaganomics—has been completely forgotten in our nation. I make no apologies for being proudly liberal, for valuing liberation, for valuing social justice, for imagining a more balanced national and global distribution of wealth, for believing that we just might be able to stem the tide of climate change, that women ought to have control over their own bodies, that gay and lesbian couples ought to be able to marry legally, that government ought to take generous care of the most vulnerable, that taxation plays a valuable role in civil society, that workers ought to have the right to organize, that immigrants whether documented or not ought to be welcomed and treated with compassion and respect. If I forget the theological and spiritual sources of these values from time to time then, yes, I have fallen into the trap, and I know I need to enter a period of reflection and reground myself spiritually. But if I become fearful of proclaiming my liberalism and thereby betray the theology and spirituality that create it, then my Unitarian Universalism might actually be dying.
Finally, we are not completely adrift in this birthing process. We have guides. We have widespread (though certainly not complete) consensus on seven principles. Rev. Loehr argues our principles are simply a restatement of the values of secular liberal culture and do not serve well as the core of a religion. He calls them the seven banalities. I sometimes feel this way. I remember a time in seminary when a fellow student said, “The seven principles are the last thing I want to hear on my death-bed.” That may ring true for many of us. No Unitarian Universalist has ever said to me, “I want you to talk about the seven principles at my memorial service.”
Here’s what I propose for my next sermon series. I will preach sermons on the Unitarian Universalist principles. The series is called, “How Shall We Live?” I’ve never preached directly on the principles before. I’ve never prayed over them as I shall be in the coming months. I’ve never taken the time to ask whether these principles are worthy of my spiritual loyalty—I’ve always just assumed they were. So, you and Rev. Loehr will have to sit through seven more sermons before this response to his lecture is complete.
Here’s a brief glimpse into where I think I’m going with this series. One of the books Rev. Loehr recommended to me is Karen Armstrong’s The Great Transformation, in which she tells the religious history of the Axial Age, the period from about 900 to 200 BCE, which witnessed intense spiritual and philosophical creativity, and which gave birth to the great spiritual traditions we inherit today: Confucianism and Taoism in China; Hinduism and Buddhism in India; monotheism in Israel; and philosophical rationalism in Greece. Armstrong says that today “it is frequently assumed…that faith is a matter of believing certain creedal positions. Indeed, it is common to call religious people ‘believers,’ as though assenting to…articles of faith were their chief activity. But most of the Axial philosophers had no interest whatever in doctrine or metaphysics. A person’s theological beliefs were a matter of total indifference to somebody like the Buddha.”
“What mattered was not what you believed but how you behaved…. The Axial sages…put morality at the heart of the spiritual life. The only way you could encounter ‘God,’ ‘Nirvanna,’ ‘Brahman,’ or the ‘Way’ was to live a compassionate life. Indeed, religion was compassion. Today we often assume that before undertaking a religious lifestyle, we must prove to our own satisfaction that ‘God’ or the ‘Absolute’ exists. This is good scientific practice: first you establish a principle; only then can you apply it. But the Axial sages would say that this was to put the cart before the horse. First you must commit yourself to the ethical life; then disciplined and habitual benevolence, not metaphysical conviction, would give you intimations of the transcendence you sought.”
My intent is not to rank Unitarian Universalism with the great religions of the Axial Age. But I sense that because our principles have less to do with belief and more to do with behavior—community-building, justice-seeking, and compassionate living—they enable us to do in the modern era what the Axial Age philosophers and sages were proposing 2500 years ago. They enable us to live in such a way that we open ourselves up to encounters with the sacred, to intimations of the transcendent.
No, the Unitarian Universalist principles are not the core of a great world religion and should not be considered such. They are rather, for our era, midwives of a new religion which is experiencing a long, slow, beautiful birth.
Amen and Blessed Be.
