Sermon preached 17 Apr 2005 by Rev. Mary Katherine Morn at a joint worship service of All Souls Church, Unitarian, and Universalist National Memorial Church
I remember when my older brother Chuck was ten years old he got the job of vacuuming the stairs in our house. Needless to say there were a number of things that Chuck was more interested in than vacuuming. After he had done only a few stairs, he decided that he could surely make the vacuum cleaner more efficient. He carried it down to the landing and turned it upside down. Then with all of his ten-year-old curiosity and dexterity he managed to take it completely apart.
Belts and bolts. Cords and canisters. A couple of wheels, a bag, some switches and several totally unidentifiable parts. All lying on the landing. Chuck must have been sitting there staring at them for several minutes before my mother found him. Just staring at the parts wondering how in the world he would recreate the vacuum cleaner that he was supposed to be using.
Of course the parts didn’t make any sense to him. He was a bright kid, but at ten, Chuck couldn’t possibly have had the vision to see that all those separate parts really did connect with each other. That each part, worthless by itself, was necessary for the vacuum cleaner to be a vacuum cleaner. They were isolated bolts and singularly useless belts on the floor there where Chuck had put them; but, reassembled, a vacuum cleaner—that, he had to admit really was working just fine before he took it apart.
We are awfully good at taking things apart. It is a critical tool for us in understanding. Divide and then divide more. We have learned to divide organic material to a point that is difficult for most of us to comprehend. But then we are faced again with a need to see and understand the larger organisms, say the rain forest, or even the earth. And we become like children when faced with this challenge. Yet there is in us an urge to wholeness. Even if it does not always come easily. Even in the midst of a world so fractured. Even when we experience barriers all around us.
And barriers there are. Some of the barriers protect us; create space for us to be who we are; define us even. And some of the barriers hurt us; divide us from ourselves; and defy us. In our increasingly complex world knowing when to unite and when to divide is extraordinarily important.
Take our congregations, for example. Well, not our congregations exactly. In the late 1950’s many Unitarians and many Universalists were embroiled in negotiations over a possible merger (that would eventually come to pass in 1961). The youth of the two movements had led the way by merging in the early ‘50’s to form Liberal Religious Youth. But there were doubts. Two vocal opponents to merger, in fact, were A. Powell Davies and Seth Brooks, respectively ministers of All Souls Unitarian Church and Universalist National Memorial Church. They believed, for many reasons, I’m sure, that merger was not advisable.
I’m certain the two men had respect for each other, as prominent religious leaders in this community. There is no doubt, though, that their vision of religious community was dramatically different. The Rev. Brooks quietly shepherded his Christian congregation toward spiritual growth and stewardship. The Rev. Davies had an evangelical spirit for the free religious tradition of Unitarianism. Both congregations joined the newly formed Unitarian Universalist Association—and yet have remained distinct in their worship and their mission.
Some years ago I spoke with several ministers who were involved in the debates over merger. My favorite story came from a retired Universalist minister who told of the Universalist fear that Universalism (which was the smaller of the two movements at the time) would be swallowed up by Unitarianism. Some Unitarians, he added, were afraid they might get indigestion.
Still today I have heard divisive (and sometimes derisive) characterizations made of each by the other. I’ve heard some who identify as Universalists belittle the sometimes heady, sometimes humanistic approach of Unitarians. And I’ve heard some who identify as Unitarians belittle the sometimes more ritualistic, sometimes more traditional Universalists. Maybe there is too great a divide between us. Maybe we should just go home, those of us who worship at Universalist National and stick to our more traditional liberal Christian approach.
I know it’s tempting. It is tempting to enjoy the security of the barriers that keep us apart. It is comfortable to stick with trappings that do not force us to stretch our understandings of ourselves and our spiritual orientation. It is so easy to divide ourselves by our differences and then lower our heads to avoid facing the truth about what we are doing.
There is another path, friends. A path that Rob and I are hoping might lead to a deepened relationship between us, a growing understanding of our kinship, a mutually beneficial relationship. At the very least we have a hope that our coming together this morning will be an occasion to remember and celebrate the rich and wonderful heritage of our liberal faith. Because our liberal faith invites us, challenges us, it may even demand of us, that we consider carefully how we see what unites us and what divides us. This is a critical question not only in our religious communities, but in our whole lives. Our answer guides us in the work we do for justice; and, it shapes our more intimate relationships as well. When we allow ourselves to focus on what divides us, to lose sight of the connections, we see ourselves as isolated and alone. We find ourselves vying for position and possession. We begin to believe that we can “do it” alone.
On the other hand, when we can shift our gaze toward a more unified vision of who we are, we manage to perceive, even if dimly, wholeness, the web, the universal love of God. With this vision we will find ourselves empowered not only in our intimate relationships but also in our relationship with “others” whom we have feared and sometimes belittled. Even “others” whom we have oppressed, as we desperately seek to maintain position and possession. Simply put, when we are able to maintain a vision of unity, we become less able to tolerate injustice.
So this question of being together is no trivial matter. We are sister congregations, neighbors, too—and even with all of the difference between us, we share a calling, as religious liberals, to seek wholeness with each other, with all of Life, and with the source of Life, with God. And, we share a rich and wonderful religious heritage that should inspire us every day toward this vision of wholeness.
In 1841 the Rev. Theodore Parker preached an inspired sermon on this question of what barriers serve us and what barriers cause us harm. “The Permanent and the Transient in Christianity” challenged the Unitarians of his day to stop quibbling over matters that were, he believed, trivial and transient. He said: It must be confessed, though with sorrow, that transient things form a great part of what is commonly taught as religion. An undue place has often been assigned to forms and doctrines, while too little stress has been laid on the divine life of the soul, love to God, and love to [others].
Parker, following the transcendentalists, was attempting to broaden the parameters of Unitarianism. The more traditional Unitarians of his day saw a great threat in this effort and sought to stifle his ministry by excluding him from their pulpits and publicly denouncing his ideas. But Parker’s message, while radical for that day, held the great truth of the universality and permanence of God’s love.
During this same period the Universalists were similarly seeking to spread the good news of God’s universal love. They preached the radical gospel of universal salvation, adamantly denouncing any doctrine that divided human beings by the state of their souls. This was a radical message of hope then, as it is now. No one is beyond the reach of the love of God. No one will be left behind. And so, no one is unworthy of human love and justice.
Universalism in the nineteenth century was a vibrant and influential faith. Many social reforms were initiated by Universalists seeking to live their faith. From abolition to women’s rights to prison reform to abolition of the death penalty, to name a few. This work was a logical extension of their faith. They not only shared the good news of God’s universal love, they showed it. Their work was almost always about bringing people together, about living our wholeness, about moving beyond the divisions between us.
As the inheritors of these traditions of liberal faith, we have a mighty task before us. We are called by the gift of our heritage to move toward wholeness when we can, to come together in difference. Further, I believe we ought to celebrate this calling. Bring glad and generous hearts to our worship and our service. And give thanks for the wonders and signs of God’s love among us.
I was terribly moved when I first read the passage from the lectionary which I shared earlier. There is disagreement among scholars as to whether this passage is a description of the early Christian church community—or whether it was an idealized expression intended to inspire. I’m going to take the side of an actual description. Though it is a glowing account, with some idealized language, I believe it. Because I’ve seen it. I’ve experienced it. Certainly not all of the time. Communities of faith falter and fail. We get it wrong. But sometimes, by grace, we experience this kind of awe. Sometimes we witness the redeeming power of love in community. Especially when we are moving toward one another seeking to live in the universal love of God. This is the message that Jesus taught. By living as brothers and sisters in faith, or some might say, by affirming the inherent worth and dignity of all, we will experience the wonders of God’s love. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people.
The urge to wholeness and connection, our striving for God’s love, is sometimes overcome by fear. All of us, at times, live in fear that leads us to separate ourselves and jealously protect whatever position and possession we may have gained. We even have leaders who would encourage a kind of spiritual protectionism. Dividing us for the sake of their own power and privilege. May we remain steadfast in our calling to unity, faithful to God’s universal love, and mindful of the inherent worth and dignity of all.
Amen.
Posted by Mark McNabb at May 5, 2005 05:29 PM