The Values I Live By

A sermon delivered at the Unitarian Universalist Congregation (Blacksburg, VA), December 12, 2004, by the Reverend Christine Brownlie.

In the weeks since the election, you’ve probably read a number of articles in newspapers and magazines about how the battle over values influenced which lever was pulled in the voting booth, or which candidate’s box on the computer screen had the most fingerprints on it at the end of the day. As I said in my post election sermon, the claims that the moral issues of abortion and gay marriage had a big impact on the election are debatable and it would be easy to shrug off this discussion of moral values as just so much hot air. But instead, the past few weeks have found me thinking about my personal values and reflecting on the foundations for the beliefs and ideals that guide my life.

I’m sure that one motive for my self-evaluation is a defensive response to the claims that the “elitist liberal left” is the source of what’s wrong in America. In case you’re not sure just who is a member of this group, I’ll offer the thoughts of Mortimer B. Zuckerman, the editor-in-chief of U.S. News and World Report. Mr. Zuckerman describes this group as “ a progressive, highly educated” group of people who hold “sophisticated, liberal values.” Does this shoe fit your foot?

Well shucks, I’m just a girl from the Midwest. I’ve never really thought of myself as “sophisticated,” but I will claim the adjectives, “progressive, highly educated, and liberal”. Maybe they describe you too. If so, then you and I probably share some of the same core values. But I want to be careful about my assumptions.

I know some of you well enough to realize that there are important differences of opinion and politics within the Congregation. I want to be clear that this sermon isn’t an attempt to hold up my values as the best or to claim that everyone should accept my values as their own — at least not without some careful thinking. And I’m not going to cover the whole landscape of human morality in this sermon. So I hope that during our time for reflection and discussion that you’ll share those values I didn’t mention that are important to you.

I found that trying to discern and articulate the values that I live by is a bit like trying to put a jigsaw puzzle together. I started with lots of small pieces; maybe we could call them virtues. These are the things that were instilled in me as a child: honesty, sharing, treating others with respect and kindness and so on. These pieces are important, but as I worked with them it became obvious that they are expressions of larger, more comprehensive values: acknowledging the worth and dignity of every person, upholding the right of all people to just and equitable treatment as members of society, protecting the great web of life. As I thought about these more comprehensive values, I found that I wanted to put them together as parts of an over-arching value that I can best describe as a commitment to responsible freedom in the context of community.

I wish I could come up with different words for this meta-value. The construct I’m offering to you is admittedly abstract and intellectual. How would someone live this value in everyday life? What kinds of relationships and actions would come out of this value? To answer such questions, I want to pull this meta-value apart by looking at the three key words: community, freedom, and responsibility.

Many of you have heard me refer to our Congregation as a “beloved community.” I hear these words as a paraphrase of Jesus’ term, “The Kingdom of God” or The Kingdom of Heaven.” When we come across these words, we tend to think of a fantasyland, something far off and unreal. But in the Gospel of Luke, and also the Gnostic Gospel of Thomas, Jesus makes a radical statement that challenges this thinking. He says that the Kingdom of Heaven is here, now, on this earth. It’s spread out all around us, he says, but people don’t see it. And I think the same can be said of the beloved community. It’s not a far off utopia of perfect people and perfect relationships. It’s here right now, waiting to be realized.

The phrase “beloved community” is associated with the teachings of Martin Luther King Jr., but he didn’t coin it. It came from an American philosopher named Josiah Royce. In the late 1800s he wrote an essay called The Problem of Christianity, and in this essay he envisioned a “beloved community” that would create a unity that included all of the various religions of human kind. He said that this unity would be accomplished by the power of “gracious love” which would overcome hatreds among the various faiths, something very much in harmony with our Unitarian and Universalist ideals

This vision of a beloved community calls me to the service of love and compassion and to turn away from judgment and rejection. It asks me to find the commonalities that we share among us, even when our beliefs and desires clash. It reminds me that my personal truths and hopes are only a part of a larger picture of something that is powerful beyond my individual grasp of truth and meaning. The work of creating the beloved community is difficult, and at times it seems almost foolish — especially when the emphasis in our society is on what separates us from each other. But I find that this ideal holds the energy of possibility for growth, reconciliation, and transformation. That energy keeps me going.

This idealized vision of unity while embracing diversity speaks to the second value that I’ve named: freedom within the context of community. There is tension that’s inherent in this value — how does my freedom of belief and expression affect your freedom of belief and expression, and vice versa. Can we make space for different opinions, different theologies — even different vocabularies — without feeling that our personal sensibilities are being dismissed, or offended?

I think that this is something that we struggle with as a Congregation, and I include myself in that struggle. Yet I believe that if I am truly committed to the ideal of the beloved community, then I must be willing to take the risk of freedom and share my deepest beliefs and concerns with all of you, knowing that doing this may challenge us. And of course I have to be willing to listen deeply, with an open mind and heart to what you have to say, as you too have the right to speak freely in the context of community.

I believe that the payoff will be worth the effort and the risk of disagreements that are likely to crop up when we feel free to be honest and authentic with one another. I know that the friends and members who are participating in our covenant groups experience this freedom and deepening as they share and listen to each other over many weeks and months, learning to trust each other, learning to accept differences as opportunities to look at an issue or a belief from a different perspective.

This free and committed exchange is an opportunity to experience the kind of creative interchange that nurtures spiritual growth as we explore our beliefs together. It brings us to new understanding and appreciation of our lives and the world we live in. This freedom to grow and change — and to know that there is always more to learn and discover — encourages a sense of humility in me that I hope will allow the process of growth and change to continue in me all my life.

But if freedom is to be a useful tool, and if a community is to endure, then the value of responsibility must be a part of the picture. When I think of being responsible within the context of community, I think of the obvious: supporting the work of the group with time and money. And that’s all well and good, but there are other areas of responsibility that are easy to overlook. Self-care is a responsibility that is often pushed to the bottom of the list in our Congregation. And by this I mean physical, emotional, and financial care. There is also the responsibility to help create the kind of change I want to see. If I hope to see our community be more generous, or tolerant, or hospitable, then I have to be intentional about my own attitudes and choices. If I long for a stronger commitment to working for justice, or a greater concern for the environment, then I have to start with my life and my willingness to address these needs. I may not have the ability or the time and resources to make a significant commitment of time or money to every cause and need that speaks to my heart, but I can encourage and support others who take up these causes and examine how my life reflects my concerns, considering changes and adjustments that speak to my values.

Or, perhaps I should call them my dreams — the hope and the possibility of what we as a Congregation could create here together for ourselves, for our children and youth, and for the larger world. I may struggle day by day to be faithful to the virtues that I learned from my parents, teachers, and the Sunday school teachers who graced my days. Obeying these principles may help me get along in the world, but they don’t inspire me to passionate actions; they don’t energize me when courageous actions are needed. They don’t comfort me when the path seems long and lonely. My over-arching value, my dream of the beloved community does, and I hope that in sharing it with you I may have kindled a spark. For I believe that this is a value and a dream worth sharing and growing together.

May it be so.

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