Saturday, September 20, 2008

Religion, Theology, Vitality

September 22, 1963
Rochester

Sermon Series – The Free Church in the Changing World

II Theology and the Frontiers of Learning
3. Religion, Theology, Vitality

For many persons, the most unsatisfied human need is a religion which is deep in the dimension of feeling, while being a religion which binds together beliefs in a bundle that satisfies the mind, and more than that, is a religion which expresses that feeling and that truth in action. Such a religion of heart, mind and hand is a pearl without price. My concern today is to speak of the search for such a religion of wholeness. In an effort to suggest a three-dimensional view of what religion is and does, three words are emphasized: religion, theology, vitality.

No realistic seeker can find a formula for religion which would satisfy everyone. However, no unbiased observer can point to any place in any time where humans have ever been and say of them, "they were not religious." Many persons there have been, and are, who have said in their parochialism, their arrogance, or their dependence, "ours is the only true faith; all others, are false." But the passing of time and the critical testing processes of human thought have always demonstrated that such claims of supernatural sanction were born of human experience, validated by human experience and the assurance was human faith.

If all men everywhere could agree on a definition of what religion is, our way of faith would be more clearly charted. But such agreement does not prevail. What religion is for you hinges on what definition of religion would draw your affirmation.

English Victorian, Matthew Arnold said, "religion is morality touched with emotion." In the same age, Schliermacher, the inspirational German theologian asserted, "religion is the feeling of absolute dependence on the divine."

These two points of view are separated from each other by a wide chasm of difference in meaning. But both are definitions of religion. A long list of definitions could be compiled to show both major and minor differences in the basic starting foundation for
constructing a religious faith. Is religion within the workings of the universe itself – that is, natural? Or is it a response to a power which is outside the universe and which controls the universe externally – that is, supernatural?

One could argue the spectrum of differences of what religion is from obscure shading to wide contrast, without securing any essential agreement except from those whose views are grouped most closely together.

But one can describe the quality of human experiences which are the common possession of persons and from which various evaluations of religion proceed.

First – while there are various living organisms in uncountable quantities, to the best of our knowledge, man is the only species which seems conscious of himself as a unique and distinct being, capable of reflecting on the universe in which he lives and making suppositions and abstractions about the cosmic order. Man says, "I am." Man asks, "From where do I come?" Man wonders, "Where do I go?" Awareness of the mysteries of origin and destiny provokes man to wonder, to suppose, to search, to believe that there is purpose to his life; to surmise that there is more to the relationship of his life to the universe than can be explained in mechanistic, fixed, unending cycles of sameness.

Furthermore, almost without exception, man relates his consciousness of himself and his relationship to others with religion. He seeks the sanctions of religion to support his solitary reflections and his standards of social behavior.

The experience of guilt, suffering, sorrow, joy, fear, courage, love, hate, pride, humility all seem to turn man to religion in order to justify, to purge, to forgive, to transform, to celebrate, to mourn.

Religion is the effort to take seriously the way one understands the universe; to look honestly at one's own self; to regulate one's conduct with others on a basis of moral values which are believed to be right, rather than just expedient.

The personal and social basis for religions is this overlap of self with other selves in a universe which conveys a message of overwhelming creativity, but a creativity we can get to know, or even share, in a very limited way. But persons starting with this core of experiences have always differed, always will, in their symbolic interpretation and expression of the basic stuff of religion. Their theologies differ.

If religion is the basic experience, theology is the human framework of words which attempts to construct an orderly philosophy which will explain, defend (and a good many times, rationalize) a particular way of comprehending the experiences of religion. A thorough theology will attempt to set forth, all that can be stated about the experience of religion. Theology is methodical theory about religious experience.

In other times, theology was called the "queen of the sciences." In our more practical times, there has been much doubt that theology either qualifies for royalty or resembles the measurable requirements needed to deserve the name "scientific." Professor Walter Kaufmann, (CRITIC OF RELIGION AND PHILOSOPHY, p. 152) once commented in a rather skeptical vein, "theology is the finding of dubious reasons for what the theologian has believed all along."

While all theologies are subject to the attrition of changing times and new ways of knowing, there is just no real warrant for rejecting theology lightly, as though this were beneath the intellectual dignity of the liberal. Perhaps we tend to associate "theology" with dogmatic creeds; and because we disavow creeds, we find it easy to dispense with theology.

Theology may not be the queen of the sciences, but it ought to rank high on the list of challenging disciplines we respect. Theology attempts to affirm meanings with words., All language is symbolic; religious language particularly so. Words are essential for us to communicate our understanding of life. We need to try to interpret religious experience comprehensively in words. One of the finest statements I have read to support that proposition was contained in an article in SR, 8/31/63, by J. Donald Adams, noted New York Times book editor. His perception was keen when he said, "Whatever the present situation, words remain one of the most living things of man's creation; indeed, one might argue that they have more vitality than anything else we have fashioned. What else is there that seems to lead an independent life? Words do; they acquire strength and lose it; they, like people become transformed in character; like certain persons, they may gather evil about them, or, like others, prod our wits or lift our hearts." And again, "Our greatly increased interest in semantics, the science of meanings, is not, I think, a merely chance matter. Words are more important today than ever before, because men have become less united in their attitudes, and have increasing difficulty in understanding one another."

Words do have power. This is reason to plead for conscious effort to state one's faith, even though neither can one faith for all be ever stated nor reconciliation of contradictory assumptions be achieved.

Let me try to illustrate by one example which is a watershed of crucial differences of religious conviction. What is the absolutely correct name for the creative power that is responsible for creation and existence when all cause and effect is moved back to its ultimate genesis? Is it God? Om? Orenda? Mana? Yahveh? Christ? He? It? She?

The new translation of the Torah by the Jewish Publication Society of America contains a most stimulating translation and comment in the wonderful legend of Moses and the burning bush. When Moses inquires about the name he shall use for God to the Israelites, (Exodus 3/5 ff.), the new Torah translation of Exodus reads, "Thus shall you say to the Israelites, Ehyeh sent me to you. Thus shall you speak to the Israelites The Lord, the God of your Fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob has sent me to you: This shall be My name forever, This is my appellation for all eternity." In a footnote, the translators comment about the name Ehyeh-Asher-Ehyeh, "meaning of Hebrew uncertain; variously translated: 'I am that I am,' 'I am who I am,' 'I will be what I will be, etc."

This explanatory footnote demonstrates how difficult theology can be. It is clear enough that the old scripture says that it was to be God's name forever, his appellation for all eternity – but the meaning of the word is uncertain. Indeed all the great mysteries of religious emotion have been variously translated in all times and places. The uncertainty of the old word in Exodus can be attributed in part to the awe which the Hebrews and others placed on the names of the supreme gods. That name was too sacred to be sounded. Is the experience less valid because the name sounds differently and the abstract concept varies?

There is almost complete agreement among Universalists and Unitarians that any claim to absolute religious knowledge can not be a legitimate bond among us. At the same time, we individually tend to become anxious unless we hew out words and attitudes that express for each a personal theology which interprets the basic stuff of religious experience.

Religion is basic; theology attempts to fit that into a framework of verbal statement. For the free church, that framework need satisfy only the one who has constructed the statement. But certainly the zest of religious relationships increases when the individuals expose their personal theologies to the searching examination of continuous test and discussion with others. Sometimes the keen edge of discussion cuts answers into questions. This may be trying at times, but good for our growth in mental maturity.

Religion will continue its basic encounter with the individual. Theology will always be an attempt to interpret that experience in words which explain, justify and satisfy, usually according to rules of reason, logic and the seat of authority for religion, as each person may decide that place of authority to be. At least that is so with us, for while most Uni[tarian]s Uni[versalist]s can be separated theologically into general grouping – theist, humanist, naturalist, existentialist, there is neither certainty nor limits to the imaginative ways that thinking persons can put into words what to them is the meaning of religious experience and ethical challenge.

Religious experience will continue as long as persons experience the emotions of the world. self and others. Theologies will maintain their inevitable places in the mental lives of individuals. Always there will be some who will accept a theology documented by something outside themselves: A church, a magnetic individual, a philosopher. There will be no lesser continuation of individuals who will accept no creed stated by others because they will always be unsatisfied with any theology, unless it bears the stamp of their own thoughts expressed by their own words.

The Study Commission Reports, THE FREE CHURCH AND THE CHANGING WORLD, emphasize how our unity is achieved by voluntary association of persons, who for the most part are numbered among those who insist on individual right to individual expression. There is almost no possibility that any verbal theology can become our official expression, either by vote or disinterest.

Yet all the interpretations of theology in whatever time or place amount to not much more than insignificance without constant vitality – the third word. Here, the dictionary directs our attention to the relationship of vitality to religion. Vital is from the Latin, vivere, "to live." The vital part is that on which life depends. Vitality is the manifestation of life – the animation which provides enduring power.

To give religion enduring power, vitality, there must be not only interpretation, that is, theology, but also and more important, there must be a lasting sense of moral obligation. Consider what the great religious leaders in all times have condemned without hesitation – the failure to do what is the right thing – consciously committing wrong against another. Sometime read through the New Testament gospels with a view to seeking out the things that Jesus believed to be wrong. You will find, I think, that his most severe words are spoken against those who defaulted moral obligations: "Woe unto him who shall harm any of these little ones, it were better for him to have a millstone about his neck and be dropped into the sea." "You have made my father's house a den of thieves."

The acts he flashed out against were violations of ethical conduct .

Religion may be more than morality – debates continue in every generation. But religion must be at least that – morality. Whatever you may label yourself, believer, non-believer, skeptic, agnostic, atheist – and you have a right to be any of these in this free church – if you are seeking a belief that will make you and your actions morally responsible and responsive, then you are on the road to a faith to which you may safely trust your life. The source of vitality in religion is the conduct it commands, the action it urges.

There is a strong spark of this ethical necessity in the early Christian tradition. James, believed by many to have been the brother of Jesus, became leader of the Jerusalem group of disciples sometime after the execution of Jesus. Unlike Paul, James was not greatly concerned with theology. You will remember some of his enduring words, (1/22) "But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if any one is a hearer of the word and not a doer; he is like a man who observes his natural face in a mirror; for he observes himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But he who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer that forgets but a doer that acts, he shall be blessed in his doing.... Religion that is pure and undefiled before God and the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world...."

Not only the vitality of religion, but the strength or our strange, tense days, and uncertain future will be people like James who believe that religion is not alone a matter of saying, "I believe," but rather that religion is a constellation which involves feeling, thought, concern, action.

Moral actions for our time are not limited to caring for orphans and providing for those needy of food, clothing and care. The moral obligation of our time, whether or not we secretly would rather turn away, is to act in terms of our troubles.

How can one separate from religion the commitments needed to bring the Negro equality and opportunity? You cannot give any man citizenship, unless you also make him your neighbor, fully – feel his pain, feel his resentments, stand with him, grow in stature yourself by sharing his courage and patience. There are many other ways to put your faith in action, but indeed in this year of the 100th anniversary of the emancipation, no one has the right to overlook the chance to be a part of the struggle to overcome by being a good neighbor on your street with your welcome, at your job, in your school, in your church.

This religious vitality obtained by action has always been the message of the great prophets. I was reminded of a modem prophet, although he would think it an unlikely designation. Al Capp, the cartoonist who creates Lil Abner, is both ethically aware and perceptive. In this week's fantastic adventure, a Sultan has attempted to buy the little boy, Honest Abe and has taken him to a far country. Because of the oil-lands the Sultan owns, the matter has become sensitive diplomatically. An American is sent to straighten the matter out – and he is drawn suspiciously like a famous international ambassador—who says to Daisy Mae, "If you don't give up your child, the Sultan will sell his oil to the Russians. Our nation's safety depends on that oil and the world's safety depends on us. Is the life of one measly child worth the whole world to you?" And Daisy Mae snatches up Honest Abe and says emphatically, "It sho is."

And that I believe is the vitality of religion, to respond with, "it surely is," when the question arises about the value of one human life. This is why we should mourn the children of Birmingham and persist in the struggle to make all Americans free. In the third act of Maxwell Anderson's play, VALLEY FORGE, Mary Philipse brings General Washington and General Howe together and the British General learns that Washington will not surrender, dreadful though the suffering is at Valley Forge. Howe leaves and Washington thanks Mary for bringing him information that the French will help the Colonists. And he says, "it will be remembered." Mary then says,

"Why, then, I'm glad.
I know my own destiny, little though I may like it,
and it's not as high as yours. There are some men
who lift the age they inhabit—till all men walk
on higher ground in that lifetime."

Vitality becomes the third and great force for religion when we lift the age we inhabit. Unlike Washington's, the work of almost all persons will remain unknown and unsung, but that obscurity will not alter the spark of vitality of those who have not only believed, but acted that all men (may) walk on higher ground in that lifetime.

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