Salvation Reconsidered

November 29, 1964
Rochester

Salvation Reconsidered

“What must I do to be saved?” That is the question that a fear-stricken Phillipian jailer asked of Paul and Silas.

The Christian Book of Acts (70-80 a.d.) recorded the fascinating story of Paul and Silas, jailed for disturbing the peace. Their real offense had been to prevent the owners of a disturbed slave girl from further exploiting her delusions. Paul and Silas were beaten and placed in irons in the town jail. At midnight, when an earthquake occurred which opened the doors and sprung the locks of the hand and leg irons, the prisoners did not escape even though the opportunity was present. It was after this astounding series of events that the jailer asked the salvation question.

As a Roman citizen, Paul had a right to be tried in Rome. Therefore he was immune from sentence in a province if he claimed his legal right. This was the historical seed which flowered in to this sensational story. Fond editorial hands of later generations have embellished the basic story with miraculous trimmings. This is not surprising; many ancient stories have supernatural escape as the theme.

What is relevant to our theme today, “Salvation Reconsidered,” is Paul’s answer to the jailer, “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and you will be saved, you and all your household.”

All religions attempt to deal with the question of salvation. Can persons holding Unitarian Universalist faith like ours, a faith rooted in freedom and trusting in reason, find meaning in “salvation?” How do we confront the nature of this religious idea which seems universal in time and place?

Because we believe in the essential dignity and capacity of all human beings, many of us find little relevance in the question, “Are you saved?” Because of our appraisal of the supreme worth of human personality, we may reply, “I didn’t know I was lost.”

But Christianity is a salvation religion (listen to evangelists on TV). Historically, Universalism was founded as a salvation denomination, proposing that all persons would be saved through the goodness of God. No God of love and justice would sentence any human being to eternal punishment. All persons would be saved and there would be a final harmony of all souls with God.

What is salvation? The dictionary first defines salvation as “the saving of man from the spiritual consequences of sin, especially in the after-life.”

One of the most influential and central doctrines in most branches of the Christian churches is that all believers must “believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and be saved.” “As in Adam all die, so in Christ all shall be made alive.”

If you believe this is the final and ultimate “word of God,” nothing that is to be said will be of much interest or usefulness to you. On the other hand, if you reject any consideration of ancient religious ideas because you see no place for such reflection in a modern age, then you too might think on other things. But if you share my belief, that ideas, dogmas and institutions are the result of forces moving within the dimensions of human’s natural history, then the idea of salvation deserves investigation to ascertain whether it has any meaning for us today.

There is great confusion about religious salvation in my opinion. Generally both the religious conformist and the non-conformist think of it as a future state to come as a reward for those who have obeyed rituals or believed creeds. The believer hopes for a happy land beyond the grave. The non-conformist rejects the idea of salvation because any concept which requires postponement to an utterly uncertain future seems to him either to be “pie in the sky” or wishful thinking. Paul Tillich observed, (THEOLOGY OF CULTURE, p. 35) “... salvation is beyond time, it is always independent of any stage of time. It is the eternal present above every temporal present.”

I, too, find that unless salvation is an experience we can know in the present time, there is no profit in pursuing its meaning. But to search out any relevance for today, we must review its historical development.

The various Christian doctrines of salvation have been subjected to several ancient influences:

First, in primitive Jewish religion, there was a great ceremonial occasion when the people rid themselves of the sins which they felt guilty, by rubbing their hands on the hide of the scapegoat. This scapegoat was then driven into the wilderness, carrying the sins of the people.

In a more enlightened and responsible age, this primitive notion of carrying the guilt burden for all became transformed into corporate responsibility [in the] exalted poetry of Isaiah (53 4/5):

“Surely he has borne our griefs
and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteem him stricken
Smitten by God and afflicted.
But he was wounded for our transgressions,
He was bruised for our iniquities
Upon him was the chastisement that made us whole,
And with his stripes we are healed.”

Most scholars agree that Isaiah was not predicting the advent of Jesus, or any other individual Messiah who was to come as “the suffering servant.” Rather Isaiah in a superior blend of poetry and ethical prophecy was referring to the whole body of Israel which must bear responsibility.

Theologically and culturally the idea carried over into Christian theology, but with a complete reverse emphasis. Instead of a whole people bearing corporate responsibility for the sins of many, Christian theology proposed that Jesus was a single “suffering servant” who “bears our stripes.” This is a remarkable instance demonstrating that theology is not necessary always evolutionary, progressing to higher ideas. Here is an instance of regression to a more primitive and less human point of view.

As time went on after the death of Jesus and the missionary activity of Paul and others, Christianity not only began to influence the Oriental-Greco-Roman world, but also the new Christian faith was affected by that world also. Many of the ceremonial rites of the pagan mystery religions – initiation, baptism, sacramental meals and ornate ritualism became Christian practice. Not only pomp and circumstance, but also uniformity of belief transformed a faith which had been simply begun as a rural, communal, wandering brotherhood of disinherited people who had committed themselves as disciples of a disturbing, inspiring, non-conforming prophet, Jesus of Nazareth.

Consequently salvation became associated with sacraments. One was saved, if he was to be saved at all, by baptism, communion and death rituals. Not until the Protestant reformers, Luther, Calvin and others, who insisted that the “just shall live by faith,” was there a challenging new note in the Christian scheme of sacramental salvation.

In spite of all the weight of powerful Christian institutions, there is not the slightest evidence that Jesus would have subscribed either to the sacramental scheme of salvation or the simpler, but equally dogmatic, New Testament evangelicalism of Protestant orthodoxy.

We know Jesus only through the reports of others. But enough is recorded so that we have some assurance that the way of salvation for Jesus was not the way of most of the historic Christian churches. A man of means asked Jesus about the way of salvation. Jesus answered, “sell all that you have and give it to the poor.” (Luke 18) The man was sad, for he had great wealth.

On another occasion, Jesus seemed to shock his own followers when he told a woman her faith had saved her because she loved much. Is more needed?

I believe that Jesus held the salvation idea cherished by most of his fellow-Jews in his own time – an idea primary in modern Judaism. Salvation is moral; responsi[bility] is both individual and corporate. A person must find his own way to the good life and to the God he/she will worship or to the highest value he commits himself to cherish.

Paul said, (Ph 2/12), “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.” This seems somewhat foreign to the spirit of Jesus that I sense coming through the ancient pages, for Jesus faced life differently. I believe Jesus might have said something like this, “Do not be overcome by your fears, but work out your own salvation in reverence, morality, and hope.”

We live in a different age. Their ways are not our ways. What is the way of salvation for us? We too, need a “way” - whether we will call it a philosophy, code, or way of living. Even as 1900 years ago, Christianity provided a strengthened morality to a world bubbling with ferment and change, so in our day we need a religious basis for salvation to give us inward assurance and social unity.

Most of us who would gather here would not feel at home either with over-simplified doctrinal formulas which proclaim the only way of salvation is to be linked with belief in a single Savior or over-elaborated ritualism which assert that we are saved by seven sacraments.

When I reconsider the idea of Salvation, three expressions have meaning to me: character, reconciliation, imagination.

One of the other dictionary definitions of salvation offers the thought that salvation is “preservation from destruction, disintegration, failure or other evil.” This definition uses words easier for me to understand than “the spiritual consequences of sin.”

First, salvation by character was explicit in one of the Unitarian affirmations of faith; it has been implicit in Universalist teachings for a long time. We do not claim originality. Salvation by character is an old and respected basis for living. This has always been the mainstream of prophetic, ethical religion. Centuries before Jesus, Ezekiel proclaimed (18/5), “If a man is righteous and does what is lawful and right – if he does not oppress anyone, but restores to the debtor his pledge, commits no robbery, gives his bread to the hungry and covers the naked with a garment ... withholds his hand from iniquity, executes true justice between man and man, walks in my statutes and is careful to obey my ordinances – he is righteous, he shall surely live, says the Lord God.” Clement of Alexandria (ca 200 a.d.), a searching thinker among the early Church Fathers, remarked about this passage from Ezekiel, “This indeed is the blessed life, the life of goodness.”

Character is what we are and what we do. Character should focus our perspective so we will not make any artificial and unrealistic distinctions between things alleged to be “spiritual” and things alleged to be “material.”

John Murray Atwood used to tell the story (from a Quaker source) about the little boy who was well-smeared with dirt as he happily made mud-pies. A lady said to him, “come with me and we will wash you up and tell you how to get to be an angel in heaven.” The little boy answered, “I don’t want to be an angel in heaven, I want to be an angel here in the mud.”

Regardless of what may await us in worlds beyond our experience, salvation by character involves what we are and what we do here in this world. The English educator, the late L.P. Jacks asked, “What should we know of goodness if we only had heard it talked about and never seen a good man or a noble woman?”

When the jailer begged Paul, “What must I do to be saved?” he may not have been asking a theological question. He may have been serving self-interest. It has been suggested (Interpreters Bible) that what the jailer really wanted to know was “what must I do to escape the consequences of this?” That is, the consequences of responsibility for an unlocked jail and [unlocked] prisoners’ handcuffs and leg irons. Salvation by character is a viewpoint that affirms you do not escape the consequences of what you have done.

Whatever motives that throb within me and whatever acts I perform that consciously or insidiously separate me from the things and the principles I believe highest place additional barriers between me and redemption – whether I define redemption in some orthodox fashion or whether I define it simply as humanistic self-fulfillment and maturation.

The great poet John Masefield told (Saturday Review) how, when still in his teens he had left the sea and taken a job in a factory, although he yearned to be a poet. But like many aspiring writers, he had received little response from publishers. Then he chanced upon these homely lines,

“Sitting still and wishing
Makes no person great
The good Lord sends the fishing
But you must dig the bait.”

John Masefield was sufficiently reproved so that he persisted in his literary efforts and eventually the world recognized his ability and success came to him. The lines, “the good Lord sends the fishing, but you must dig the bait,” express a dual trust in the universe and the quality of human initiative and integrity which “salvation by character” implies. David Hume (An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding, p. 308 Harvard Classics) expressed the same challenge succinctly, “Be a philosopher; but amidst all your philosophy, be still a man.”

But this is not enough. We must confront the social nature of character. Thus, there is salvation by reconciliation, also.

Plain-speaking Jeremiah, another of the great prophets of our Jewish heritage mourned, (8/20) “the harvest is over, the summer is ended and we are not saved.” “We” are not saved! Salvation is not an individual affair, but an achievement of community. The leaders of the American Revolution endorsed the Declaration of Independence, “we pledge our lives, fortune, and sacred honor.” There can be no individual salvation worthy of the name unless that redemption involves reconciliation between human beings in the human community.

Herman Melville in his great novel, MOBY DICK, expressed a sensitive understanding of salvation by reconciliation, in the chapter, “The Castaway.” Melville introduced the portion, “A most significant event befell the most insignificant of Pequod’s crew.” Pip, the little cabin boy, ordinarily did not accompany the whaleboats when these were launched from the vessel when a whale was sighted. Pip, a native of Tolland County, Conn. loved life and usually remained in safety in the Pequod. But, one day on the broad Pacific, one of the oarsmen hurt his hand and Pip was enlisted as the substitute. Pip was tangled in the harpoon rope after the harpoon was fixed in the whale and was pulled overboard. Stubb, the second mate cut the rope in order to stop and pick up Pip. Strangely enough, shortly after a similar event occurred. When a whale was harpooned, it turned under the boat. One of its fins made a sharp rap on the underside of the boat. In terror, Pip jumped overboard. This time the second mate did not cut the rope. He assumed that one of the other whaleboats would pick up the cabin boy. But these boats had turned in another direction and had not seen Pip jump.

Pip was alone. He saw no other humans as he struggled to keep afloat in the Pacific Ocean. By rare chance, he was sighted after a considerable time by the vessel, the Pequod. Pip’s life was saved; but his reason was forever gone. Henceforth, he was mentally helpless. The strain of feeling that he had been completely abandoned by his human kind had been too much for him to bear. The old myth of Cain carried the same terrible condemnation, “My punishment is greater than I can bear,” when he was rejected and excluded from human community.

Salvation without restoration to bearable community seems a pointless and hollow achievement. Our world is dotted with persons yearning for fellowship, dreading rejection and hoping that there will be a breakthrough of the crusts of self-centeredness. The saving way points to persons being saved by reconciliation of individual [deeds] in cooperative citizenship, universal churchmanship and happy family living.

Last, I would submit to you that there must be salvation by imagination. Jesus remarked to Nicodemus, (John 3/3), “Truly I say unto you that unless one is born anew, he cannot see the Kingdom of God.” Ordinarily, the orthodox thinks of being “born again” as referring to the Christian conviction of guilt and consequent conversion that sometimes follows – a polarization of emotional extremes.

But, it seems to me, that one can also believe that Jesus was saying that imagination is necessary for salvation. You must acquire a new vision. You must “get a glory” as Berton Braley versified – see things as they could be. Even persons of moral stature and integrity can become deeply depressed unless hope continuously offers the vision of a better world.

We need the imagination to appreciate the varied ways different persons formulate salvation. Some Hindus find salvation in the way of Bhakti, “devotion.” Through faith, love and service, they find salvation, rather than in vows, pilgrimages and sacred rites. We need the imagination to welcome these different ways and say, ungrudgingly, “thou are not far from the kingdom.”

When the Buddhist holds up the Four Noble Truths and pledges himself to the Eight fold path to salvation, we need the imagination to recognize a fullness to such a faith if one embraces it wholeheartedly. Whatever power impregnates the universe, it is a universal power, available to all who seek it in honesty, even though myths and rituals and attitudes differ in time and place. Salvation must be for all, or it is for none. In our world, torn with misunderstanding, this affirmation requires a born-again imagination, but without it, we shall not be saved.

Few, if any, Unitarian Universalists believe in the myth of the Fall of Man through Adam’s sin, yet there is a symbolic way that this old religious story may be a signpost directing us to meaning. (see Alan Watts, MYTH AND RITUAL IN CHRISTIANITY). The “Fall” might represent human illusion, born of self-centeredness that he is completed in irresponsible individuality. Redemptive love might represent a born-again vision that whatever is hold or divine in our lives is linked to character, reconciliation and imagination. We are saved by our vision of what we want to become and the nature of our struggle to reach that goal.