Popular images of Unitarian Universalism in American culture.
In one of my favorite Doonesbury cartoons, Gary Trudeau depicts Scottie, chaplain of the Little Church of Walden, talking with two prospective parishioners, a man and a woman.
Scottie: "So what would you like to know about Little Church of Walden, folks? Don't hold back - I know how difficult it can be to choose a church."
He: "Well, what's your basic approach here, Reverend? Is it traditional gospel?"
Scottie: "In a way. I like to describe it as 12-step Christianity ... Basically, I believe that we're all recovering sinners. My ministry is about overcoming denial, it's about recommitment, about redemption. It's all in the brochure there."
She: "Wait a minute - sinners? Redemption? Doesn't all that imply ... guilt?"
Scottie: "Well, yes, I do rely on the occasional disincentive to keep the flock from going astray. Guilt's part of that!"
He: "I dunno. There's so much negativity in the world as it is."
She: "That's right. We're looking for a church that's supportive, a place where we can feel good about ourselves. I'm not sure the guilt thing works for us."
He: "On the other hand, you DO offer racquetball."
She: "So did the Unitarians, honey. Let's shop around some more."
Church shopping seems to be the way of the religious world these days - an entrepreneur's dream. The market of critical shoppers is huge. And Unitarian Universalism is very much in play - as a Boston Globe writer put it not long ago: "Bucking the trend in declining church membership, the Unitarian Universalist Association's enrollments have risen dramatically, reflecting baby boomers' search for a comfortable canon."
Garrison Keillor loves to play with Unitarian Universalists. In The Book of Guys, he writes about how hard it is to be a "guy" these days, and ways we can overcome the problem. "Or we say the prayer of St. Geoff: 'Breathe deeply, relax, let go of all stress and anger, and be here within yourself in the universe where you are truly welcome - really.'" Then he goes on: "Or we go to a Unitarian monastery in New Hampshire. The rule there is complete silence but if you think of something really good you can go ahead and say it."
In her novel Fly Away Home Marge Piercy gives us some family religious background of her main characters: "The girls had been raised Unitarian, which had seemed a nice sensible compromise to Ross and Daria between having no religion at all and having to lie to the children about what they believed, enough religion to be respectable but not enough to get in the way."
Now, what do these glimpses of Unitarian Universalism have in common? In one way or other, and despite the good-natured humor, they each put down liberal religion as rather inconsequential, insubstantial, a kind of theological joke.
The couple chatting with chaplain Scottie doesn't want to be too disturbed by religion and finds Church of Little Walden racquetball as innocuous as that offered at the Unitarian Church. The Boston Globe writer coins the phrase "comfortable canon," the scripture people who don't like challenge would choose. Garrison Keillor pokes fun at our alleged lack of spiritual discipline - we can violate the rule of silence if we really have something good to say. And, finally, Marge Piercy thinks of Unitarianism as "religion that doesn't get in the way."
Now I don't think any of these writers really has anything against us - I rather suspect they may even be positively disposed toward the liberal way in religion. However, in their clever humor they do take aim at our cherished freedom run amok. Because there are few formal requirements for our faith - in belief or practice - it may well seem that there is no core, no center, no demand.
Not so! I believe Unitarian Universalism is a disturbing and demanding faith that does get in the way of easy answers to hard questions, that challenges the conventional religious wisdom without blinking and that demands much of us without apology.
Take the recent experience of one of my ministerial colleagues. Their five-year-old grandson uttered these words to his grandfather: "Grandpa, I need to talk with you about time. Where did yesterday go and where is tomorrow coming from?" I suppose it might be tempting to ignore the question and move on to another topic or mumble something about the eternity of God, but this kind of religious opportunity is one that Unitarian Universalists relish - or at least ought to relish. One of the delights - and frustrations - of our open-ended and open-minded faith is grappling with questions that have no answers - and admitting that they don't - or at least that we don't know them.
What a gift it is to stand with a child at the edge of the immensities and contemplate them! What a gift to have a child unafraid to ask the questions that empty the room! What a gift to be open to our ultimate ignorance about the nature of time and reality and still enjoy living in them! This kind of honest humility before the ultimate is religion that gets in the way of pat answers to tough questions. It disrupts the conventional assumption that all the important religious answers have already been found and our task is simply to learn them and teach them to our children.
As Ralph Waldo Emerson said a century and a half ago, "we need to have an original relation with the universe." We are not content to memorize the old answers, though we learn from them. We ought to appreciate those answers, but more important find some of our own.Wade Clark Roof, one of today's most astute observers of the religious scene, suggests something of the excitement of this liberal religious quest: "My own experience interviewing hundreds of baby boomers over the past decade is that the people most excited about telling you about ... their spiritual lives - and often the most articulate - are those with hyphenated labels: charismatic-Catholics, nondenominational-Christians, vegetarian-Unitarians, recovering-Presbyterians, eco-spiritualists, and yes, one or two Lake Wobegon-Lutherans."
I especially liked that mention of "vegetarian-Unitarians", not only because I am trying to be one, but also because of the thrill the spiritual quest engenders. If my religious pilgrimage is not adventurous, full of danger, if I do not consider it of utmost importance and crucial in the way I live my life, then I'm not doing it right. This life, whatever else it may or may not be, is an exciting proposition. If my faith does not turn me on, light my lights, stir my soul, I'm just in the wrong pew.
Unitarian Universalism is a spirituality of risk. Probably many of us do not understand how religiously dangerous it is. We begin the journey not really knowing how it will end. We cannot see all the curves in the road; we don't know for a certainty what forks in the road lie ahead or where they will lead us. Only this we know - the journey is worth it.
This liberal faith demands much of us. Because there are relatively few theological givens, because we are skeptical of easy ethical absolutes, because doubt is as much a part of our religion as faith, it requires time and energy - it gets in the way of doing whatever we feel like doing.
It is opposite the philosophy of Microsoft Mogul Bill Gates who gives us his take on religion: "Just in terms of allocation of time resources, religion isn't very efficient. There is a lot more I could be doing on a Sunday morning." That's right, Bill, you could be making another billion dollars or so if you play your chips just right. I'd be curious to know how you spend your time, but it's none of my business, of course. I would like to suggest, however, that efficiency may not be God after all. There may be some other values worth exploring. Like what to do with your billions in a world where the rich like yourself just keep getting richer and the poor get poorer. Like what is the impact of all this technology you generate upon the human spirit. Now, don't get me wrong, this manuscript has been generated in Microsoft Word 6 - so I am not unappreciative of what you have created. But for your sake - get the chip off your shoulder and consider the quest for meaning - that very inefficient undertaking which is at the core of religion. Just a hint. There is more to life that making better widgets or chips - more even that getting rich. Think about it.
You might even think about Unitarian Universalism - now there is a very inefficient religion. With no creed or dogma, with no set of unchanging rituals, this is a very inefficient way to be religious. You have to think about it. You have to struggle with hard questions. You have to worship with people who may disagree with you and like it. You have to actually live your values out in your everyday life - and that is not easy. You don't check your religion at the door of home or office, school or factory.
One of our ministers, after conducting a memorial service, was told by a woman, "I'm not a humanist because it is too scary." We might well substitute the words Unitarian Universalist - "I'm not a Unitarian Universalist because it is too scary." And it is scary to think for oneself, to respect the opposite conclusions of others, to go against the theological grain, to build one's own theology. That is a spirituality of risk, but there are many of us who think that it is worth it.
It has been written that a Unitarian Universalist "... would rather admit to having a social disease than to having a mission." And there is a popular story going around that suggests Unitarian Universalists really don't have one: What do you get when you cross a Jehovah's Witness with a Unitarian Universalist? Someone who knocks on your door repeatedly, week after week, for no apparent reason.We do not go around knocking on doors. We are not proselytizers.
But we do have a mission - that mission is to take religion so seriously we believe freedom and responsibility are at the heart of it - that mission is to take our religion into the world so that all people may know love and peace and justice - that mission is to celebrate life in all its triumph and tragedy - that mission is to let our religion get in the way of shallow spirituality, egregious ethics, self-righteous religiosity - that mission is to help people develop a faith that will both comfort and challenge them - a faith they will create for themselves out of the raw stuff of their own experience.
My religion constantly gets in the way. It prompts me to be consigned to hellfire and damnation by a counter-demonstrator at an abortion rights rally when I would rather go home to put my feet up. It prompts me to share my contacts in the interfaith community with parishioners, though I have other ways to spend a Tuesday night. It prompts me to challenge the economic status quo even though I preach to people who mostly benefit from it. It prompts me to create worship services that include a broad religious spectrum when it would be easier to reflect only my own theology. My religion constantly gets in the way of my self-indulgence, my indifference, my life.
Clinton Lee Scott has written a "Parish Parable" that succinctly and dramatically depicts a religion that gets in the way - but a religion I would not want to trade for any other:
"Now there was a certain man that for many years did frequent the Temple on the Sabbath day. Then did he cease to be found in the Great Congregation. And a neighbor inquireth of him, saying, "how is it that thou art no more seen in the Temple on the Sabbath day? And the man did give answer, I like not the words that the Master speaketh: for he putteth not an end to the questions that vex my mind, neither provideth me with a sure salvation for my soul: verily he leadeth us into deep waters, and leaveth us there without means of rescue. Now when this conversation was told to the Master of the Temple he answered, saying, Go tell him that remaineth away from the Great Congregation that the Temple standeth not to provide life preservers, but is a place wherein one learneth how to swim."
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