Legacy of Love

I woke this past Thursday morning as usual - made my way through the shower and out the door, rushing a bit to make it to the bakery down the street for a muffin and some treats for my morning meeting at church - standing there in line I caught sight of a television - the reporter on CNN standing in the midst of mayhem telling the terrible news of bombs exploded on the subways of London, of a double-decker bus with its top torn off - the story of an unknown number of casualties and the city at a standstill - as I stood and listened I felt my heart sink deep into my chest, feeling for the injured, the frightened, the ones so angry and powerless that they turned to violence - I stood there remembering September 11th here in the United States, remembering the fear and sadness, the rush for safety, the outpouring of love and support from stranger to stranger - the days of decision when our nation turned away from its initial response of unconditional care for one another, turned away from the mirror that had been placed so clearly before our face, turned away from the possibility of creativity, of understanding, of a non-violent response and into instead the seductive lure, the draw of violence and retribution, the illusion of safety if only we could destroy those who hate us.

The cashier ringing up my order interrupted my swirling thoughts - Can you believe it?, she asked, looking up at the tv. I can, I said, I can. Just days before I had flipped through the paper and came across the headline - "Iraq called school for terror - Official studies indicate that US war has made problem worse."[1] The article that followed announces that according to US counter-terrorism officials and classified studies by the CIA and the State Department, "Iraq has replaced Afghanistan as the prime training ground for foreign terrorists that could travel elsewhere across the globe and wreak havoc." While we cannot know if that is what happened in the case of these most recent bombings in London, we can surely know that we exist as a part of an interdependent web, and we can surely know that as it always has, violence begets violence, and hate begets hate.

This message - that violence begets violence and hate begets hate, should, of course, come as no surprise to any of us. All of the great peace and civil rights activists have proclaimed these words with singular clarity. Standing in the wreckage of his home country of Vietnam, Thich Nhat Hahn wrote that "Using hatred to fight hatred is the surest way to create even more hatred. Those who create love," he warned, "are fewer and fewer, while those who create hate are more and more."[2]

We are learning this again, first hand, as the nation we invaded in the name of freedom, in the name of fighting terrorism, becomes the training ground for ever-more advanced means of terrorism - our hatred is breeding more hatred. Standing in line at the bakery this past Thursday morning I felt wave after wave of frustration and hopelessness wash over me - How could this be happening again, I asked myself. Have we learned nothing these past few years, these past decades and centuries? How is it that when we humans feel most desperate we turn to violence, choosing separation from those around us, separation from the web of life, disavowing the innate connection that exists between each of us and all that is living?

There is no doubt in my mind, we live in a world where hatred is on the rise, where fear of our neighbor and of those who are different from us pervades our national psyche. In the United States we see this rise in hatred and fear in our growing military budget, in the so-called Patriot Act, in mistreatment of foreign and local prisoners, in the rise of movements against human and civil rights, against environmental and evolutionary science, against gay rights. The culture of our day is pushing us backwards - threatening institutionalization of not only fear and hatred but of discrimination and violence as well.

So where do we stand in the midst of all this? What does our faith teach us? Who does it call us to be, and what does it call us to do?

I hate to oversimplify things, but I believe that the essence of our Universalist heritage can be summed up in one sentence I've seen rolling around on a bumper sticker lately - it reads, "God Bless the World - No Exceptions."

Several hundred years ago as the first Great Awakening and then the second Great Awakening swept through this country - preachers rode from town to town holding revivals and bringing the message of salvation for the chosen few and eternal damnation for the masses. One of these preachers, Jonathan Edwards, grew famous for his sermon, "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God." In "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God," Edwards likened the human experience to a spider being dangled over a fiery pit - God might drop you in, or he might not, but he was angry and there was absolutely nothing you could do to save yourself but believe in this angry God and hope for the best. Not surprisingly, Edwards instilled fear in many, and the converts to his brand of faith grew in number as he made his way across the country.

But just behind him across the country came a different kind of religion, the Universalist circuit riders, preaching a religion based in unconditional love. The Universalists claimed that while some places in the Bible supported the image of an angry, vengeful God, other places - especially the words written since the arrival and death of Jesus - portrayed God as a loving parent - a parent whose love knew no bounds, who drew no one outside the circle of its gentle embrace - in short, a God who would bless the whole world - no exceptions - whether we thought we, or any one else, deserved it or not.

This kind of God - a God that offered its love and care to everyone, a God who created no distinctions between people, no saved and unsaved, no chosen few and no masses left behind - this kind of God made a powerful impact - and as the Universalists grew in faith and in numbers, their belief in God's unconditional love for all naturally led them to a new way of understanding the world and who they were called to be in it.

Believing that each person was worthy of love, the Universalists, along side the Unitarians, swelled the ranks of the anti-slavery movement, the women's rights movement, and humanitarian efforts of all kinds. They took one of their primary preachers, Hosea Ballou, to heart when he said of religion, "If you can't reduce it to practice, have none of it."

Our Universalist ancestors preached and lived a clear message of God's unconditional love for all, and this message naturally translated to a belief in the inherent worth and dignity of every person, a principle we hold dear today - This belief in unconditional love for all, in the inherent worth and dignity of every person, called the Universalists to put their faith into action - action that brought the world ever-more into alignment with their vision of equality and justice rooted in love.

Here in Rochester, we share in this long legacy of love. From its earliest days, our congregation played a strong role in the abolitionist movement, with many members of the church hosting stations of the Underground Railroad in their homes. Our church served as the meeting place for the completion of the first Women's Rights Conference in 1848, where we joined in the women's suffrage movement - Over the years we have served the community as a boys home and a neighborhood meeting place for girls. Planned Parenthood had its origins in our building, and we joined with so many other people of faith in the civil rights movement of the 1950s and 60s. We continue to live out our faith today in numerous ways - through our generous donations of time and money and through our commitment to enhancing the education offered at School 22 - just to name a few.

Most recently, Unitarian Universalism has figured prominently in the fight for equal marriage for same-sex couples, and we have seen some success. When the state of Massachusetts declared marriage a legal right for same sex couples on May 17th of 2004, 7 of the 14 plaintiffs in the landmark case, Goodridge et al vs. the Massachusetts Department of Health, were Unitarian Universalists - and later that day the president of the Unitarian Universalist Assocation, The Reverend William Sinkford, legally married Julie and Hilary Goodridge at our headquarters in Boston. As Unitarians, Universalists, and Unitarian Universalists, we have long put our faith into action, allowing love to guide us even when to do so was not popular, not revered, not safe.

Our legacy, our heritage is clear, friends. Love has long been at the center of our faith, and love has long been at the center of our actions. But as we are reminded by our own past minister, The Reverend Bob West, "As we review the history of our denomination in this country, the names of numerous Unitarians appear as leaders in government, literature, education, social and humanitarian causes, scholarship, the arts and science...But as we Unitarians today recall these facts, we would do well to heed John Milton's admonition that the light from our past is given us, not to be ever staring on, but by it to discover onward things...to make of our own life a worthy vessel. If the waters of the streaming fountain of Truth flow not in a perpetual progression, they sicken into a muddy pool of conformity and tradition. Unitarian religion today is us. We decide the nature of those waters of the streaming fountain."[3]

We decide the nature of those waters of the streaming fountain. Standing in a long legacy of love, we are blessed also with a history and a faith that calls us to use our own minds - our own reason and conscience and experience - to test the words and the beliefs that are set before us and that arise within us - and to decide for ourselves exactly who we are called to be and what we are called to do in this world. The waters of the streaming fountain flow in perpetual progression through us. We stand within this long legacy of love - receivers of a grand heritage we did not create, but that we are called not only to sustain but to continually create anew.

The Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., the great peace and civil rights activist whom we heard from earlier this morning in our readings, continues to put the challenge before us today. "Love is the most durable power in the world," he said. "The highest good is love...It is the unifying force of life." And it is the greatest of all virtues. "In a world depending on force, coercive tyranny, and bloody violence, you are challenged to follow the way of love. You will then discover that unarmed love is the most powerful force in the world."

Unarmed love is the most powerful force in the world. Love that embraces us and surrounds us when we ourselves do not feel worthy of kindness, of care. Love that leaves no on behind, love that reaches out, saying to each one of us and to those we have yet to encounter - I value you, I believe in you, I have faith in you. A love like this is so powerful that it alone can break the hard shell of fear, dispelling the despair of isolation and hopelessness that ultimately turns us away from our innate connection to all, that turns us to violence.

Whatever it might look like for each of us - We are called by our past and by our present to follow the way of love. We are called to start where we are - trusting that as we pay attention and let the knowledge of our connection to all soften our hearts - the way will open before us. As Thich Nhat Hahn reminds us, "Out of love and the willingness to act selflessly, strategies, tactics, and techniques for a nonviolent struggle arise naturally..."[4] - "...If you are alert and creative, you will know what to do and what not to do. The basic requisite is that you have the essence, the substance of nonviolence and compassion in yourself."[5]

We have the essence of love, the substance of nonviolence and compassion within us. It has been given to us by our heritage and it exists at the center of each of our beings. May we be returned to ourselves, to our innate connection to one another, and to the desire to be of service again and again by love. When we are tired and frustrated, when we are overwhelmed by the enormity of the work ahead or simply by the demands of our own daily lives - may the smile of a child, a stranger singing as she passes on the path, a boy who offers us directions so avidly - may these small kindnesses given and received, re-engage us with our hearts and with this world - That we might come to know who we are called to be and what we are called to do - that we might answer the question posed before us - what is the next chapter in our story, in your story, of this legacy of love?

Jen Crow, Associate Minister
July 10, 2005

1. Democrat and Chronicle, Tuesday, July 5, 2005, 3A.
2. Thich Nhat Hanh. Love in Action: Writings on Nonviolent Social Change, Parallax Press: Berkeley, CA, 1993, 34.
3. Rev. Robert West. Sermon - "The Story of Unitarians" Delivered on September 27, 1964 at The First Unitarian Church of Rochester, 3.
4. Thich Nhat Hanh. Love in Action: Writings on Nonviolent Social Change, Parallax Press: Berkeley, CA, 1993, 39.
5. Thich Nhat Hanh. Love in Action: Writings on Nonviolent Social Change, Parallax Press: Berkeley, CA, 1993, 45.