Ours is a religion, one of my most respected colleagues said recently, not of doctrine but of covenant. Well, yes, but that never quite explains to me where the boundaries are, what we stand for, what our mission is. We agree to walk together -- okay, but where are we going? And who are we who are walking together? A covenant is a sacred promise of continuing relationship, but relationships are many and varied, and though that is how we gather, it does not, it seems to me, say all there is to say about this free faith of ours. Perhaps it can be argued, because it's always nice to be able to fit everything in to a broad, simple statement (and the broader it is the more you can fit in) that that does say it all. We freely agree to work things out together. All kinds of things, because religious questions -- and I would argue that most questions can have at least a religious dimension -- cover a wide range, as did the topics for this year's potpourri sermon. They were about relationships, moral and ethical issues, and the status and nature of this faith to which we have given our hearts.
This is father's day, and there has been more than one person to note that my objection to mother's day does not seem to carry over to this one. That may be in part because I don't take it so personally, not being a father, but the real reason is that we don't drown in a morass of sentimentality for Father's Day. The concept of fatherhood doesn't seem to cut off our ability to think critically about either itself or our own fathers. I was asked to talk about the ways in which relationships with fathers have changed today from what they once were. That they have changed is clear, but it is harder for me to think clearly about that than seems reasonable. Men, at least among educated liberals, are far more involved with their children than they once were. They are no longer the only breadwinners, and mothers are no longer the only caretakers. The question is then, is a parent a parent except for the biological difference of who provides the sperm and who the egg, and who does the actual incubation? Or are there necessary differences or are cultural differences necessary? How different are men and women really, and with the blurring of roles do we really need different role models for boys and girls -- and what about the in-betweens? I find the questions confusing and the answers mixed beyond even confusion when I ask myself these questions, and it becomes more confused and more urgent when the issues become involved with the children of same-sex couples.
I was asked to comment on the hypocrisy of Florida law that allows same-sex couples to become foster parents but not to adopt children. Well, of course it's ludicrous, and for Florida to have a ban on adoption by same-sex couples is shameful, since all of that angst in my previous paragraph aside, one loving parent is better than none, and two loving parents is more than twice as good, whatever their sex may be. Support for this kind of oppressive bigotry seems to be waning, and I suspect that our children will find it as primitive as we do the Jim Crow laws of a generation ago. There are still those questions, however, which I keep struggling to answer about whether there is an inherent difference between fathers and mothers, and whether gender role models or even roles are important.
Relationships are varied and not usually easy. They take work, and they take giving and forgiving. I was asked if there is a dual responsibility in friendship, and of course there is -- if it isn't mutual, it isn't true friendship. It is, however, impossible to judge from the outside, and sometimes difficult from the inside, whether one is really giving more than the other. The gifts are different, and it is hard to weigh the value of them. If one friend feels that they are doing all of the giving and none of the getting, that person needs to discern what needs they have that are not being fulfilled, and whether their friend is able to fulfill them. Perhaps the friend is doing the best he or she knows how to do, or perhaps sees the relationship in a different light. We all have different needs and different gifts and that is the reason for the difficulties that nearly all relationships run into now and again. With real trust in the other's goodwill and affection we can perhaps be able to communicate and overcome the issues, but perfect love and perfect understanding are superhuman characteristics. That is why, as Reinhold Niebuhr says, forgiveness is the final form of love.
The questions of life and death, why we live and why we die, are basic religious questions, but they become moral and ethical ones only in relationship to others. Dr. Kevorkian was just released from prison on parole, so his actions and what he stands for are again issues in the public consciousness. If any of you have been living in a cave for the last ten years or so, Dr. Kevorkian was the man who was sentenced to prison for second degree murder for assisting terminally and chronically ill patients to kill themselves. He still feels that what he did was right, and I tend to agree with him, though I will admit that it always seemed to me that he was enjoying it more than I was quite comfortable with. It probably takes fanatics, though, to be willing to go to prison for an important cause. It has never made sense to me that we are considered cruel when we allow our pets to linger in pain and suffering rather than having them euthanised, yet we insist that human beings be kept alive in the same circumstances. Even when, in hospice, people are kept as comfortable as possible but otherwise allowed to die without heroic measures being taken, it has seemed to me that it has sometimes just gone on too long. Why should they have to lie there, unaware of their surroundings, in occasional pain and sometimes in fear when it would be so easy to end the suffering? We make physical life itself a sacred idol when all that makes one human is gone. Oregon allows physician assisted dying, although the federal government continues to make it as difficult as they can, and they are the only ones who have been able to pass such a measure. There must, of course, be all kinds of safeguards to make sure that it is not done casually or greedily or when there is still hope, but most people who have seen a loved one dying, lingering without consciousness or hope or in fear and anguish have longed for a way to shorten the process. It had always seemed to me that it should be entirely voluntary and personally willed at the time, as it was with Dr. Kevorkian's patients, but in the case of Terri Schiavo, I found myself agreeing with a colleague who said in response to it that she felt that she herself would have no right to the resources used to keep her breathing if her real life was essentially gone. I hadn't thought about it in terms of resources before, but I would certainly feel that way about it myself were I conscious enough to make such a judgment. Although the law passed in Oregon is not quite the same as Kevorkian's intent, it was sparked by the discussion of his case, and to that extent he succeeded. I hope that more states will follow Oregon's lead.
The arguments against allowing people to die are primarily religious arguments. One of the interesting questions I received was, what difference does it make whether people are theists, deists or agnostics -- or, I would add, atheists. On one level I would suggest that it makes no difference at all. There are people of each school of thought who are upright, generous, loving people who live deeply and meaningfully, and there are also of each school who are self-absorbed, indifferent, selfish, violent and cruel, and there are all the others in between. The chronicler of the Second Great Awakening, Charles Finney, who knew beyond doubt that only fear of hell could keep people from sin was maddened by his recognition of the upright lives of many Universalists who believed that everyone would eventually be reconciled to God. Whatever our theology we tend to behave as our upbringing and our culture have trained us, even when we leave the religions which were at least supposed to give us the parameters within which to act. We often even adjust our theology to match, whether we realize that or not. Nevertheless, although it objectively to others may not seem to make a difference, I think it does on a personal level. To have decided those questions or even just to ask them gives us a clearer sense of who and what and even why we are, making us realize that there are things that are more important than we are -- more important even than our personal gratification.
I have said before that our differences in theology within free religion are the icing on the cake, the fun part of our faith, that what matters is not these beliefs which we can share and discuss with one another, but how we agree to walk together. The rest of the questions had to do with the teachings and status of free religion today. The first one was, "Is Unitarianism a form of secular Christianity?" and the answer to that is that it is neither secular nor Christian. By definition a religion cannot be secular, and though I have run into many people both within and without our movement who don't consider Unitarian Universalism a religion, it seems to me that they are clearly mistaken. There are many different religions with many different sources of authority -- that being the one thing that distinguishes one faith from another -- but they all are, again by definition, the institutional and traditional relationships within which people discover or shape the purpose and meaning of their lives. Unitarian Universalism fits that definition and it is the only one that fits all religions, east and west, primitive and sophisticated. Our being (or not being) Christian is another question. I would call us post-Christian, because Christianity is our heritage. We are the direct descendent of the Enlightenment and radical Protestantism. It is reflected in the shape of our services and even the hymns that we sing. We still have many Christians among us. Nevertheless, we can no longer be called Christian because the life and teachings of Jesus of Nazareth are no longer our source of authority. Instead, and this was true even when we were still within the Christian fold, we rely on the evidence of our experience refined by reason and the free church tradition and tested in community. This would seem to fit into his next question which was "Can Unitarianism become a new religion stressing scientific experience and moral ideals instead of the traditional form Unitarianism now takes?" In a sense I think it has already done that, but it hasn't left all its traditions, its history and its culture behind, nor would I wish it to. Not everything can be packaged in reason and scientific evidence. There is also the aesthetic sense to be satisfied, the understanding of the mystery that can't be understood of which we get glimpses when we hear great poetry and lovely music or revel in the beauty of nature. I think even moral ideals may have that transrational aspect, a commitment to love and justice that goes beyond the survival needs of the human race. For me the rational and the scientific, although they are important are only one dimension of the religious adventure. Belief cannot be contrary to them, but they do not reveal the mystery. We are as close to the scientific method of religion, I think, as it is possible to be; we revere the search for truth and the use of critical thinking, but we also revere the beauty and goodness beyond understanding that calls us to its service.
"Where does the word 'comfort' come from a religion based on reason?" That was the question that I think my answer to the last one begins an answer to since there is more than reason in our faith, but it is really more the covenant that matters, the relationship. We cannot give the easy answers of other faiths -- that the dead do not really die, that virtue is rewarded, that we will see those whom we loved in another life -- because we suspect they may not be true. However, we can walk together, in friendship and in love, supporting one another not only in our quest but amidst our failures and our losses. We can't promise supernatural intervention to make us feel better, but we can hold one another's hands so we do not trip and fall, and we can work together for a better world.
The last two were essentially the same question: Why are we so small? Why didn't Jefferson's hope for a day when every young man in the United States would be a Unitarian pan out? Why are there billions of Catholics and only, counting the kids, 200,000 Unitarian Universalists? I think there are a lot of reasons. The easy one, the one that makes us feel good and is even, I believe, true, though by no means the whole story, is that most people don't really want to do the hard work of freedom. Most people want to be given easy, authoritative answers to their religious questions, even if the answers have only authority and no evidence to support them. Taking responsibility for your own life and your own beliefs, using your critical intelligence in the face of unanswerable questions is not easy. I think, though, there is another answer that is also true and is much less flattering to ourselves. We have lost track of what we stand for. We say covenant, not doctrine, and that is true, but it doesn't set the boundaries that are necessary for definition. We say, "It's what we do, not what we believe," and that's true, too, but we have never articulated the basis that tells us what to do. We follow the latest fad or the latest politically correct opinion and turn a Unitarian Universalist Association bylaw into a creed in our efforts to repair the omission. Free religion, I believe, is the hope of the world, the only one that makes sense as the world becomes more complex to our understanding and thus the only one that can truly guide us as we walk together. I find it hopeful that some of our leaders are looking for new ways to define and articulate our purpose and the meaning that that holds. Perhaps the day will come when Thomas Jefferson's hope will be fulfilled. At least perhaps we will learn to what end we are walking and who we are who walk together.