Reach and Grasp: An Attempt at Self-Definition

June 20, 1965
Plainfield

Reach and Grasp: An Attempt at Self-Definition

Because I believe there will never be a better time to state as clear as I can what I believe a good minister should be and do, I am devoting this sermon to the subject of “Reach and Grasp.” I shall try to refrain from excessive use of that first person singular pronoun, but you should know that I am speaking of the goals I reach for as a minister. You will not need to be assured that my grasp or achievement of these goals is far from full realization – at times perhaps inadequate. But unless there is general sharing, understanding, support, or tolerance of the religious values for which I reach, then we, as congregation and minister, should never enter into an enduring relationship.

Admittedly it would have been easier for me and perhaps more inspiring for you if I had brought along a sermon which had been successful in the dimensions of audience response to inspirational qualities. Every minister has at least one of these. But it would be just as logical and more realistic to trot out a sermon that was a dismal failure which did not lift the hearts or stir the consciences of the congregation. And every minister has an abundant supply of those too. But I am not here to convince you that you might hear a good sermon now and then or that often enough I am a crashing bore in the pulpit. To be a minister is to qualify on both counts and I’m sure that most of you have listened to enough preachers to be more sure of that than I am.

One additional introductory comment: In listing in some order the activities one minister believes important to his profession and the goals for which he reaches, there is not necessarily an order of importance in ascending or descending fashion. The assignment of much of a minister’s time pivots from the hinge of necessity or timing. He must constantly place some measures of variable priorities on the time available to him. These priorities will constantly change according to his evaluation of current need.

First, although the Unitarian Church of Plainfield is an independent religious society with rules and goals established by the membership, there should be a persisting and whole-hearted effort to participate constructively and creatively in the affairs of the Metropolitan District, the Unitarian Universalist Association and the Unitarian Universalist Service Committee. Our congregation's independence does not warrant isolation because our religious movement is not a local phenomenon. Voluntarily we share the obligations and enjoy the fellowship and benefits of the movement beyond our local influence.

Everything I have learned about the general denomination climate of the Plainfield Unitarian Church persuades me that there is strong majority agreement with the position outlined. Neither the local society nor the UUA and District has all the answers to the pressing problems of our day. But our journey on the roads of better expressions of and more persuasive, relevant interpretation of great religious truths and ethical acts will be a better pilgrimage if we join voluntarily with like-minded societies across the continent and across the world. Our faith is not right for this age unless we concur in considerable measure with the saying, “everything that has anything to do with anybody else, has something to do with me.”

Second, I believe a minister should be careful to apply his experience and skill to the day-to-day affairs of the church. Administration is a word that is more than a description of boards, committees, records, statistics, publications and directories. Administration represents staff members, their human foibles and human strengths. Administration represents the manner persons relate to each other, understand each other, become angry with each other, establish communication with each other, forgive each other, inspire each other. Certainly in terms of a Unitarian society with multiple staff, the senior minister [should] be granted his seniority to the end that the complex and unending details of the relationship of paper and persons will contribute to the health of the religious society and the happiness and personal growth for every member of the staff.

Third, a minister reaches for the understanding and skill to be of help to persons when their sorrows are great or their anxieties are overwhelming. Traditionally this is the role of the minister as pastor. Personally I am not comfortable with the term “pastor.” The word derived from the idea of a shepherd who watches over his flock. I know myself well enough to know that I am no shepherd; I have met, listened and talked with enough of you, so, believe me, you are not sheep.

But I believe that a minister should be there; when the stress is turned on, he has a priority to be on hand when he is needed. Most ministers are not professionals in the field of psychiatry or psychology, but because they believe you to be innately worthwhile, they can be a sympathetic ear when grief is great or tensions tight. Ministers want to share your joy and participate in your sorrows.

William Saroyan, creative author and playwright once told the story of the day his first book was published. He bought a copy and started walking around in San Francisco. He showed it to a policeman and said, “Hey, look, I wrote this book. That’s my name on it. He showed it to a news dealer and a fruit peddler. But they didn’t care. People really don’t care unless it concerns them personally.”

I believe a minister should reach for the skills and be ready to give the time to let people know that someone cares. Both as the minister of the church and as the man he himself is, [he] should be there with persons in their grief or disturbance for the purpose of helping them find for themselves a renewed relationship with the stubborn experiences of living.

But I want to give most of my remaining time to the always sensitive matter of the minister and human events, particularly controversial matters. In our faith, a minister has an obligation to place the resources of his mind in the service of human affairs. Furthermore he should not shrink from reasonable action when this is clearly the logical consequence of his convictions.

We have great traditions in Unitarianism and Universalism. We treasure them and revere the great names and remember their noble words and courageous deeds. Servetus, Priestly, Jefferson, Channing, Ballou, Murray, Parker, Emerson, Clara Barton and the others on our roster of the great will never be forgotten as long as there is a Unitarian Universalist pulpit to honor their memories.

But our task is not to stop with pious recollections of the prophetic words they spoke or the courageous acts they performed. Our task is to approach living experience and current problems as they did, with wisdom and courage. Rufus Jones, the late and renowned historian and philosopher of the Friends, once defined “Liberalism” in a manner that seems pertinent for this Unitarian society and for another Unitarian or Universalist society, “Liberalism if it is to have a signal future must have a well-matured philosophy of life, it must have a program to be accomplished and it must reveal a propulsive dynamic which is powerful enough to change the line of march and to bring new energies into play.” (p. 193)

But here one cannot deal with the preacher and human affairs unless two recognitions are made which are essentially twin foundations of the structure of our religion. On the one hand religion, culture and morality are all interwoven in a manner which completely defies unraveling. Not for us is the idea that religion is an escape hatch from the rough and sticky issues of human living. There are those whose religious beliefs insist that this world is separated by sin from salvation. But we are in the tradition from the time of the Hebrew ethical prophets – and even before that – which holds that peace, justice and mercy are inescapable from high religion. Justice, mercy, liberation, peace are values without meaning unless they apply to the social order. They are values which are only relics if we but praise the past. They are values which are but vague and ephemeral promise if they are applied only to some elusive future. I believe our religion would be only cruel deceit unless we are involved now and constantly in the creation of a just social order which is ever more free and fair.

On the other hand we also create our structure of organized and individual religion on the foundation of individual freedom of belief. Not only is our pride that our bond of fellowship does not require identical religious beliefs, but also we are free to disagree about the nature of problems and proposed answers in controversial social, economic and political issues.

Over the years, in all our intra-denominational disagreements about theological and social issues, the right to disagree has been ever more clearly emphasized. We have responded to a spirit of fellowship well expressed by Victorian novelist George Eliot:

“Ours is a faith
Taught by no priest, but by our
beating hearts,
Faith to each other; the fidelity
Of men whose pulses leap with
kindred fire,
Who in the flash of eyes, the clasp
of hands,
Na in the silent bodily presence, feel
The mystic stirrings of a common life
That makes the many one.”

We have proudly proclaimed our unity amid diversity. In all candor, however, many times our diversity has been painfully clear and our unity difficult to locate.

Many of you know that I believe congregational procedures can be worked out so that the congregation can speak on social issues and be publicly known for its consensus; that a group within the congregation can speak out, and be known for its stand, and, furthermore, be known for speaking and acting only for itself and not for the entire congregation. That these democratically defined procedures are difficult to work out, establish and communicate is obvious; that our times demand courageous declaration and pertinent action is as necessary as the difficulty is obvious.

Church historian, William Alva Gifford once wrote, “Institutions outlive the ideas that created them, and organized religion must confront the perpetual process of new and adequate vehicles of faith.” In this decade at least, I believe our societies are attempting to power and guide a vehicle of faith which confronts the necessity of communication, concern, responsibility and action in the areas of the bare and anxious social problems: war and peace, civil liberties and rights and the struggle to establish equality of opportunity for all persons.

In the pulpit I speak for myself; in the streets, I act for myself; when I write a letter dealing with controversial matters, I use personal stationery unless it deals with an issue on which the congregation has taken a stand.

More than that, I believe that I have no warrant to stand in judgment of you, when you disagree with me. In Christopher Fry’s play, THE DARK IS LIGHT ENOUGH, Belmann says,

“A man can’t know
How to conduct himself towards another man,
Without the answer to certain basic questions,
What does the man choose to believe?
What good and evil has he invented for himself?
In short, how has he made himself exist?”

In a Unitarian society such as in this pulpit I now stand, I can only announce what I believe to be the resolution of facts in dispute and values in conflict. To censor you because you are not persuaded only multiplies the problem while diminishing possible answers. To attempt to burden you with guilt because you may not share my views or support my action is to compromise what I believe to be the precious relationship between minister and member.

In Maxwell Anderson’s sensitive drama, “Valley Forge,” Washington asks Lafayette about the French nobleman’s young wife, “Yet loving her, you left her?” Lafayette replies, “It’s a poor love that belittles whom it loves, or would hold him back from the best and highest.”

Similarly, believing as I do in the affectionate bonds of good-will, I can only say, when I am moved by men and events, “this is what I believe, this is what I should do. If in good conscience you can, we will stand together. If you cannot, this issue will not breach our acceptance of each other.”

Let me again quote Dr. Robert Ulich, the Harvard educator as he deals with this difficulty of the free individual in a society which tries to speak with group consensus: “Least of all should we see a contrast between our liberal individualistic tradition and the desire for the unity of mankind.

“The contrast appears only when individualism is but a better word for egotism and when unity mistakes itself for mechanical collectiveness. Everyone who works on himself opens the door to humanity, and whoever cares for humanity enters deeper into self, and thus helps to balance the ambivalence that has been a part of man for centuries.” (EDUCATION AND THE IDEA OF MANKIND, p. 33, Harcourt, Brace and World, Inc., NY 1964)

Some years ago when I served one of our churches in a New England seaport city, I experienced an encounter I hope I never forget. Walking back home one noon, I met a man; [he] stopped me and introduced himself and expressed appreciation for something I had said at a meeting. He was a man of venerable years, perhaps in his late eighties or early nineties, thin of body, wizened of face and trembling of hand. Pointing to an orthodox Christian church near where we were standing, he said, “I’ve always been a member of that church but I should have joined your church sixty years ago.” When I asked him why, he went on to tell me how one of my predecessors had been the only clergyman to take a public stand on a matter involving human rights and working conditions among the fish-cutters. Said the old man about my predecessor sixty years removed, “He spoke up for Man.”

A preacher is a human being, who is fallible who errs, who may say the wrong thing at the right time or the right thing at the wrong time. He can only pledge to speak up for Man. He will speak with you and for you when you will; speak alone when he must.