These Roots That Hold Us Close. A sermon delivered at the Unitarian Universalist Congregation (Blacksburg, VA), September 16, 2007, by the Reverend Christine Brownlie. It was an awkward moment. I was sitting with a group of strangers in a noisy room, waiting for the main course of the wedding rehearsal dinner to arrive. The gentleman seated next to me asked, “What denomination do your serve?” I answered that I was a Unitarian Universalist minister, and that I served the congregation in Blacksburg. The man looked puzzled and proceeded to ask the inevitable string of questions that I know all too well: Are you Christians? Do you believe in the Bible? Do you have a creed or doctrine? Do you believe in heaven? How do you know what to believe? How can you be a congregation if you don’t all believe pretty much the same things? I told him that sometimes it’s a challenge. What brings us together is our values. We uphold the value of every person, we believe in the free search for religious truths, we uphold human rights and equity for all people. At the same time, we have definite differences in our individual theological and religious beliefs and our approaches to religious practices. The man thought for a while. Then he said, “So maybe what you all are is some kind of intellectual discussion society. But I can’t see why you use the word “congregation” if you don’t have some kind of a creed or some doctrines that you all believe together. I don’t think I’d be comfortable if I thought that the person sitting next to me didn’t hold the same beliefs that I do.” He looked a little startled by what he’d said and quickly turned to his wife to get back to someone he could trust to say what he expected to hear. I would have loved to listen in to their conversation as they went home, to find out what he thought about my explanation of our way of the spirit. Unitarians and Universalists have a long history of dealing with diversity of belief within their ranks. The practice of tolerance has been strained at times, and there have been heated theological debates within both denominations. But over time, the movement has been toward tolerance. This acceptance of difference comes from our historic connection to the fertile soil of the heretical branch of Protestantism know as the “Radical Reformation.” Those who subscribed to this way of faith claimed that revelation was to the individual, not the institution. These brave souls were seekers, doubter, questioners who wrestled long and hard with issues of belief, proper ritual, and the role of the church in society. Individual conscience was the final arbiter of truth — not some official of the church — which meant that individuals had to wrestle with their own questions and doubts and faith claims, and then stand on their own conclusions. This was a serious issue. False beliefs were more than wrong; they might put one on a potential path to eternal damnation. In theological terms, congregations that followed this path of tolerance were called “confessional.” We still fit into that tradition, although we probably take it much farther than even the most radical Protestants in those days could have imagined. Scripture was a powerful source of authority for these rebellious Christians, who held firmly to the doctrine of the Trinity. Even for them, freedom had limits. We UUs are still exploring the territory and coming to our own conclusions. Being a “confessional” church offers us the wonderful and spiritually invigorating opportunity of deep dialog, as we examine our very different perspectives on our individual sources of faith and meaning. I know that our small “covenant” groups provide one venue for this kind of discussion. The sermon reflection time on Sunday mo9rnings offers us another opportunity. But for many of you, neither of these works well. Some of you need more time to process your thoughts; others of you dread speaking in front of a group, so you hold your thoughts in silence. There’s another reason that some of you are reluctant to share your personal beliefs, and I’m going to name it because I want to find some means of addressing this issue. I’m told that some you fear that if you share this deep and sometimes tender part of yourself, you will be met with an attitude of rejection and even derision. Why? Perhaps because the beliefs you hold dear are based in traditional Christian teachings. Or you believe in a power you call God. Or Jesus is an important figure in your spiritual life. Maybe you find value in the teachings of the Hebrew and Christian scriptures, and you feel that your beliefs will be ridiculed or equated with those of the religious right. I’ve seen that kind of response here, and I know it happens in other UU congregations. I find it both sad and puzzling. We like to boast of our tolerance and diversity, but there are certain words like “God,” “sin,” or “salvation” and certain common religious practices like prayer that elicit a knee-jerk negative response from some UUs who insist that these words have only one definition, and this definition makes the word meaningless or unacceptable. For them, the vocabulary of theology is firmly planted in the often-unhappy experiences and emotions of their own lives. Nuances or new shades of meaning are discounted. “God” is that figure in the Bible who frightened them or ignored their prayers for a dying loved one. “Salvation” can only mean Jesus’ agonized death on the cross. There is no possibility of reframing these words, based on our modern understanding of human psychology or new ideas in theology. These words are red flags that don’t belong in our Sunday services. My own tendency has been to avoid these words and practices — even though I know they are deeply meaningful to some of us. Yes, I include myself in this group who hold more traditional religious beliefs. I do this because I don’t want to start an argument over religious vocabulary or particular religious practices. But I’m coming to realize that while this way of handling our diversity feels safe, the reality is that avoiding the conversations and the possibility of conflicts actually dilutes the power of our diversity, because we never really get to experience what it’s like to hear very different points of view on these theological concepts or practices. I dream of the day when together we will share and explore, our differences, respectfully disagree over some points, and still come away richer and more aware of the beauty of diversity. Why can’t we read the sacred scriptures of the Christian, Jewish, Muslim Buddhist, and Hindu traditions without worrying that some of the words in the texts will offend some folks? Our Principles and Purposes remind us that we draw from the sacred texts and teaching of the world’s great religions, and that we accept and encourage each person’s individual spiritual quest as his or hers to pursue. This doesn’t mean you or I have to share every belief or faith-claim made by our brothers and sisters in Free Faith. In my own forty years as a religious liberal, I’ve heard plenty of theology and philosophy that did not speak to me at all — and sometimes I’ve been very forthright about that. As a UU minister, I have offered sermons that have been critical of certain Christian doctrines and described our historic stance on traditional teachings about the nature of God and humanity, Jesus, atonement, and salvation and sin. But I hope that I never convey the attitude that those who believe deeply in these traditional Christian doctrines are stupid or objects of derision. I hope that I always listen to the views of someone who believes in the teachings of Islam, Hinduism, or a modern figure like Edgar Casey with respect for that person and his right to hold those beliefs. I like to quote the words of Frances David, a courageous Unitarian minister of the 1500s, who said, “We do not need to think alike to love alike.” The path of diversity is sometimes very rocky, but it can also lead us to new insights and deeper relationship if, when we meet differences, we can meet them with respect and an open heart. So, how is it that we can face such deep differences in our theology and still consider ourselves a congregation? If we are not bound together by a creed, what does hold us together as a religious community? Again, we can look to our Protestant heritage for the answer. Our Puritan ancestors relied on covenants as the power that bound the people together as a congregation. This may strike you as a quaint term for our very modern way of the spirit. I would point out that those of us who are members of this congregation are bound together by our covenant of membership. Like many other UU congregations, we say that our members be “in sympathy” with the Principles and Purposes that state the covenantal basis for our Association of Congregations. When we welcome new members into this congregation, we ask that they support the Congregation with their time, energy, and financial resources; that they do all they can to foster healthy relationships with others within the congregation; and that they continue to nurture their own spiritual lives. The current members pledge to support and accept the new members, promising to be tolerant of differences. Again, we do not need to think alike to love alike. But we are more than a spontaneous gathering of people who have come to this place by accident on this particular day. The next time someone asks me “How can you be a congregation when you don’t all believe in the same things?” I will offer this answer: “ Our roots are both broad and deep, and these roots hold us together as a congregation. We are a confessional and covenanted body, heirs to the radical reformation and the Puritan tradition of the free congregation. We gather in sympathy with Principles and Purposes of the Unitarian Universalist Association, which call us into mutual respect, a lived concern for justice and equity, and care for the great web of life. We draw from the wisdom of the great religions of the world, science, philosophy and the arts, as we search together for truth, meaning, and hope as grounds for our life. We welcome all who share our commitment to the unending search for truth, a reasoned acceptance of differences, and the joyful way of the beloved community.” May it be so. Copyright 2007, Helen Christine Brownlie; Commercial duplication prohibited without permission of the author ![]() ![]() |